#i took a closing shift tonight by switching with a coworker and my manager got mad

[kissingarthurclaus]

Save me middle aged whiteman....whiteman save me

[purinfelix]

possibly, maybe i'm falling for you [pt. 2]- joao felix

summary: after almost a month of ditching shifts to avoid the new barista at work, you're forced to work a closing shift together with no way out ( read part 1 here ) w/c: 2.4k

a/n: okay if i'm being completely honest this isn't my best work and also ended up being way longer than i expected (but i'm on a roll tonight and ik if i don't finish this rn i never will sooo....) hoping this won't flop <//3

You had done a lot of stupid things in your life, but you were fairly sure this had taken the cake. Though part of you, the immature part was also slightly proud of how smart you had been about all of these - it was borderline genius.

You had spent the past month or so meticulously orchestrating your work schedule. Whenever the roster for the week dropped, you would scan over it obsessively, every name and every timeslot. If it wasn't to your hopes you'd immediately message your boss with some excuse - "Uni work is piling up.", "I need to catsit for a friend.", "Caught a nasty cold." - for why you wouldn't be able to make it. You were fairly sure she would catch on soon enough, but even if she did she still obliged and let you switch to another day. Was it tedious and a little more stressful than you'd like? Sure - but it was what you had resorted to, in order to avoid the new barista.

At first, you weren't entirely sure why you were going through all this effort after only working a single shift with him. He hadn't been that bad of a coworker, in fact, he was perfect. He managed to stay on top of orders and keep the station clean at the same time, a feat not many could achieve - and to top it all off, he was thoroughly polite.

But the more you caught yourself avoiding him, the more it started to click. Sure, it was annoying that he was basically perfect at his job and even more irritating that he got tips for just looking good, but even those weren't good enough reasons to hate him. It dawned on you throughout the weeks, with each shift you took without him - which was still full of people coming in to ask "Where that good-looking barista is?" - that you didn't really hate Joao at all. In fact, that couldn't be further from the truth.

The realisation dawned on you largely against your own will. You tried everything to combat it, tell yourself you couldn't possibly feel like that about someone you had barely spoken to, let alone your coworker. And strangely enough, avoiding him - which you had hoped would help you forget about him - only made it worse, giving you time to conjure up ridiculous thoughts about him, what he was doing, what he thought about you. Admittedly, you regretted slightly being so mean to him the first, and last, time you shared a shift.

If only I had a chance to apologise, then maybe it would be alright, you thought, turning over in bed before bringing up a hand to shield your tired eyes from the morning sunlight. As you soon learned, Joao tended to take a lot of morning shifts, which let you get used to the feeling of sleeping in. The soft ping of your phone alerted you though, to an unexpected notification from your boss.

Your eyes widened slightly when you opened it up to see her begging you to work tonight's closing shift, despite you knowing full well that he would be working as well. You knew you had wanted a chance to talk with him, but this had come far too soon. Already halfway through typing up an excuse, another message came through explaining that the staff who was meant to take it had dropped out, that it was an unexplainable emergency and that you'd really be helping her out by coming. You paused your frantic typing, letting out a soft sigh.

After all, you did have a duty to your boss and you'd feel guilty if you let her down now - even after her obliging all your ridiculous requests for shift changes. Slowly, you typed out your response before rolling onto your back, letting your phone fall somewhere amongst your crumpled bed sheets. All you could do now was get ready for work and hope it wouldn't be too bad.

The afternoon came far quicker than you had hoped and before you realised it, you were standing at the door of the cafe. Despite having grown a sense of comfort attached to this door and what lay beyond, having been an employee for so long, your heart twisted at the fact that you had let something as simple as a boy throw a wrench in that. You wiped your clammy hands on the sides of your shorts before reaching out a hand to the doorknob.

Through the frosted panes of the door you could just make out the foggy silhouette of the very boy you had been avoiding, as he busied himself with wiping down tables and clearing empty cups. For a moment, you felt bad for having avoided him all this time, because as he rushed back and forth there was a sense of loneliness in his actions. You recognised it, having worked many closing shifts alone in your earlier years, and soft guilt washed over you at the thought of him feeling the same isolation you had then.

"Hey," you said in unison with the tinkling bell at the top of the front door. You watched as Joao whipped his head around and his expression turned from one of slight boredom into a mix of surprise and relief.

"Oh, hey!" You walked slowly over to the employee entrance to the back counter and he followed quickly, seemingly eager to rid his hands of the several plates he was holding. "I didn't know you were working tonight too."

"Oh yeah sorry, the boss called me in last minute," you fixed your attention on the display case of cakes, unable to bring yourself to look at him.

"No, don't apologise. It does tend to get a little sad here alone," he laughed guiltily and you can only offer a sympathetic smile in response.

"Well I better-" you begin, gesturing to your bag.

"Oh yeah go ahead," he says, moving out of your way though he pauses for a minute - almost as if he's about to ask you a question, but quickly decides against it. You don't think much of it as you move past him into the employee room.

The first half of your shift passes by quickly with waves of customers keeping both of you busy in your respective areas. With each ring of the bell, alerting you to the arrival of a new customer, you felt a slight wash of relief knowing they had bought you a couple less minutes alone. You weren't sure why, but more than anything you feared the awkward silence that would inevitably fall once the two of you were alone.

And of course, with your luck, the stream of customers soon trickled out to just a handful of regulars finishing off the last of their meals. There was less than half an hour left until closing, and you felt your stomach churn with worry each minute that ticked past.

"It's been a while since we worked a shift together," comes Joao's voice from behind you, causing your stomach to drop. You hadn't been expecting the conversation to start so soon.

"Oh yeah, I've just been sort of busy," you laugh, hoping your excuse and attempt at a light-hearted tone do enough to dispel any more questions.

"It's funny though, every time I looked at the first roster and we'd be scheduled together, the next time I checked you would be moved." Maybe not.

"Really?" You're not the best at acting but you try anyway. "I guess it's just a coincidence."

"I guess." Hearing his mocking tone, you grab a hold of a rag and dash out from behind the counter to go clean a couple tables - anything to get away from him, and this conversation. But he's relentless, and you hear his footsteps as he begins to follow you.

Just in time though, the very last of your customers gets up from her seat and waltzes towards the counter, forcing him back to the register. You smile to yourself as he takes her payment, but this happiness is short-lived once you watch her walk out the door, leaving the two of you alone.

You continue wiping down the tables, starting with the ones as far away from him as possible.

"You need any help with that?" he calls out.

"Nope, I'm good."

"Alright."

It's almost painful how awkward this is, and the way you feel as though the last ten minutes have inched by excruciatingly slow. Once you reach the last of your tables though, you have no choice but to head back behind the counter and start cleaning there too. As you do, you're suddenly made aware just how little space there is for the two of you to pass by each other - and you end up accidentally pushing past his shoulder.

"Sorry," you mumble, though it comes out a little ruder than you'd expected. Suddenly though, you feel a slender hand wrap around your wrist, forcing you to drop the rag on the floor and spin around o face him. "What th-"

"Did I do something?"

His question comes so quickly, so suddenly - though you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been expecting it. For the first time since your last shift, you're forced to look Joao in the eyes, and a part of you is caught up by how beautiful they are, looking directly into yours. But another is more concerned with the almost painful pleading expression they hold, and your heart twists while your brain searches for a response.

"No, you didn't, you're actually a great coworker for what it's worth." It feels cathartic, to tell the truth after forcing yourself to speak the language of polite niceties.

"You know that's not what I'm talking about, I get tipped enough to know I'm a fine barista."

"Then why do you care what I think?" You try to wriggle yourself free from his grip but your feet stay planted where they are, almost paralyzed under his gaze.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Stop acting so stupid, you know exactly why I've been avoiding you!"

"Do you think I'd be here if I did? Do you think I would have prodded you with so many questions?!" His voice rises with each question, and it's almost as if he's speaking without thinking. "Do you think I would've begged our boss to roster us together if I did?"

He shrinks back almost immediately, realising what he's just said. "I-"

"You what?" He sighs.

"I had to get you to talk to me somehow, I knew you were avoiding me, I'm not that daft."

You pause, taking this in. This entire time you thought you'd just been serving yourself, and that he hadn't even given you a second thought - and now you're forced to realise that it's in fact the opposite.

"I didn't like that you were getting more tips than me," you sigh, voice tiny and confessional even though you know that isn't the full truth. And he does too.

"That can't be it."

"Well, what do you want to hear, huh Joao? That I don't like the way you push past me or how you're so easily friendly with our regulars?"

"No-"

"Do you think I don't like the way you wipe down the counter, or how you steam your milk?" You're not sure why you're raising your voice so much, but it's almost as if all the frustration from the past month has bubbled up to the surface.

"No!" He's yelling too, but strangely enough, it doesn't scare you at all.

"Then what? Tell me what you want to hear huh!"

"I want to hear you say you don't hate me!"

"God, you're such an idiot," you laugh, a mean and spiteful laugh as you throw your hands up in exasperation.

"Am I?"

"Yes!" you huff, "because clearly you've been too stupid to realise that I've been avoiding you because I like you!"

Shit.

You physically feel yourself recoil after hearing what you've said, and Joao does the same, his eyes widening and mouth dropping agape. The two of you stand there in a thick, tense silence for what feels like ages.

"You what?" his voice is tiny when he speaks again.

"Please don't make me say it again."

"You like me?"

"Yeah, no need to rub it in."

"Oh, thank god," he sighs, and the relief in your voice confuses you. You watch as his body finally relaxes, and he trudges over to lean against the cafe counter, rubbing his eyes with his hands like he has a headache.

"Excuse me?"

"Here I was, stressed out of my mind thinking the coworker I had a crush on was avoiding me because I had creeped her out or something." It's almost as if he's talking to himself.

"You what?!"

"Oh, and I'm the idiot here?" You resist the urge to hit him.

"You," you pause, almost not being able to believe what you're saying, "you like me too?"

"Is that not obvious?" he laughs, and you let out a scoff of disbelief as he stands up and closes the gap between the two of you. The cogs in your head finally start working to put the pieces together, but you're still a little shocked - even when you feel Joao's hand reach up to hold your chin.

"Now that we've cleared things up," his voice is low, causing your cheeks to heat up, "can I kiss you?"

He still has that innocent tone, and it almost reminds you of the way he asked you questions during his training session. A little unsure but still wanted to make sure he was doing everything right. You nod, and let out a gasp as you feel his lips on yours.

When you finally pull away, he holds you close, almost ready for a second when you put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"What now?"

"We finish closing?"

"I mean, with us."

"You doing anything after this?"

"Don't think so."

"How about dinner, on me?" You roll your eyes at the smirk spreading across his face but nod regardless. Freeing yourself from his embrace, you go to pick up the rag you dropped earlier.

When you stand back up, Joao pulls you in once more for a quick peck, before pressing his forehead to yours.

"I'm guessing you won't be avoiding shifts with me anymore?"

[panic-at-the-fiction]

Pizza Girl

Summary: You work at the pizza place right across from Scoops Ahoy and you have a massive crush on Steve. Only problem is he only ever sees you in you’re working uniform and all you need is one day where he sees you outside of work.

Warnings: I genuinely projecting here.

A/N: Yes I work at a pizza place, yes this is exactly how I am. Yes these are based off real friends. Yes I totally make up excuses for my crushes who only see me in my work uniform to see me dressed up looking hot (shout out to my favorite cashier and the guy from sheetz!). Honestly this isn’t for anyone, but me. I haven’t written in a while cause I got drained from writing stories I didn’t care about so this one’s for me babe. Hope you like it anyways.

Working at the Starcourt mall had its benefits, starting with Scoops Ahoy, more importantly one of its employees, Steve Harrington. Sadly, there are also downsides of working at the Starcourt mall, which also include Steve Harrington.

The first two months as a pizza cook had been fine, the uniform fine, the workload fine, the coworkers fine. I worked hard, I was good at my job, I befriended all the managers. I always considered myself to be ambitious anI didn’t stop until I was the best at my job.

Then Steve Harrington got hired across the food court. You can see directly into Scoops Ahoy from the counter, it made me crazy wanting to be a cashier just to see him, even asking to switch shifts occasionally. Before he started working at Scoops, I had already made it a weekly routine to visit the store. Whenever I got off early or my boss didn’t feel like eating pizza for the thousandth time, I would bring Robin free pizza in exchange for free ice cream.

Robin and I hadn’t been the best friends in school, but that was from a lack of classes together, not anything personal. We had both been in AP English together last year and since neither of us knew many people there we were often partners, but apart from that, we only had a casual friendship. Mainly we just recognized another tired out nerd working hard at a minimum wage job, and we respected that and since then, we were becoming better friends.

But now when I stop by Steve is there, in that stupid sailor's uniform and with his hair, God his hair. It was making it hard to focus at work, and it was a struggle not to stop by scoops every day. The last two nights I’ve worked until close and Scoops closes an hour earlier than we do, so I haven’t had a chance to stop by, meaning that tonight I was free to go after work.

I walked over after my shift with two pizzas in hand to find no one standing at the counter this time. “Hello… Anybody home?”

Steve jumped up from the ground where he had been hiding behind the counter. “Oh, sorry, didn’t hear you come in. Robin, it's our favorite customer!” He yelled at the back door. He turned back to me and smiled, god his smile. “And how can we help you today?”

Robin quickly popped out the shuttered window from the back. “You got the Hawaiian pizza?”

“As always,” I held up the box for her.

“Yes!” She fists pumped as she ran around the front to take it from me, sitting down at a nearby booth with it.

“Gross,” Steve scrunched up his face in disgust, “who likes pineapple on pizza?” Robin only flipped him off as she continued eating her pizza.

“I like pineapple on pizza,” I added in, smiling to piss him off. He gave me the same disgusted face he gave Robin. “But it’s okay, I know you don't, that's why I brought you stuffed crust pepperoni.”

He smiled and clapped his hands like a child and took the box from me, setting it to the side on the counter. “Ok, I haven’t forgotten yet, what would you like in return?”

“I’ll just take a scoop of salted caramel in a cone.”

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, that’s it? You brought us two pizzas, you must want more?”

“Fine, make it two scoops.”

“I’m making it three in the big cone.” He said, not happy with my answer.

“Fine, if you have to twist my leg.” I laughed.

We all sat down, enjoying our food at the booth. Steve and Robin laughed and bickered, and I only wished that for once I could hang out with Steve outside either of our workplaces. I loved these moments, but god I smelt like pepperoni and my uniforms were always stained and nasty after a shift. There was no helping it in the kitchens. And then there was my hair and face, it’s hot in the kitchen during the summer and I have to wear those stupid hats and always have my hair pulled back. I don’t wear makeup to work because I’ll only sweat it off. If only he could for once see me at my best and not at my worst all the time.

“You in there, pizza girl?” Robin snapped at me.

“What, yeah, just off in outer space.”

“Oh well, Steve asked you if you work tomorrow?”

My mind raced, why? To ask me to hang out? To ask me on a date, or just general curiosity? “No, actually, I don’t. I have the whole week off, actually.”

“Oh, sounds fun, any special plans?”

“Yeah, I’m leaving this weekend for a family trip and I just decided to take the whole week off and chill with friends.”

“Guess we gotta pay for pizza this week then, Robin.” He laughed. I deflated slightly, of course he wasn’t trying to ask me out, that was just over thinking.

“Hey I should get going, it’s getting late.”

“Well hey if you want any ice cream this week, stop by we’ll hook you up.” Robin said, smiling.

“Thanks.”

Steve’s perspective

“Any special plans?” Robing mocked, “that doesn’t sound creepy at all.”

I placed my head in my hands, “yeah I know, I just didn’t know what to say, it was weird. I could just jump in and ask her out, had to check if she was busy first.”

She rolls her eyes and walks around to the back only to come back with her stupid board, adding another tally to the “you suck” side.

“Thanks” I groan.

“Well hopefully she comes back this week, and you can try again.”

(Y/n)s perspective

“I’m bored,” Carter said, climbing out of the pool. I rolled my eyes, but Jamie set up from her lounge chair. “Yeah me too.”

“What? Come on, guys, we've barely been here an hour. It’s hot, and we have a pool, how are you bored?”

“Don’t get me wrong, we love the pool, but we aren’t outdoorsy people. We want air conditioning.”

“Fine, how about we go to the mall?” I suggested, totally for no personal gain or agenda.

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound too bad right about now.” They agreed.

“If we’re going out in public, I have to change first.” If I’m doing this, I’m doing this right. I’m not a superficial girl, but I know an opportunity when I see one. I quickly put on my shorts, that tank top my mom didn’t like and fixed myself up a bit.

“Oh come on, you didn’t really need to completely change?” Carter argued.

“I like looking my best, is that a crime?”

“It does when I don’t get to go home and change.”

“You’re the one who was bored.” Jamie laughed.

We all hopped in my car and drove to the mall. I waited until we had hit a few stores before I proposed lunch at the food court. When we were done, I stopped outside of Scoops.

“I’m just going to pop in and say hi to a friend.” They gave me a questionable glance as they looked inside. They both knew about Steve and only laughed when they saw them.

“Oh now I see why you did all that. Well, in that case we’ll be over there, try to get us some free ice cream if you can. I, personally, like rocky road.”

“Oh me too!” I flipped them both off as they laughed.

The store was a lot busier than when I came in after work. Almost every booth was filled, but Steve was at the counter and only two people stood between me and him.

I waited patiently, trying to keep my nerves down, finally it was my turn. He didn’t look up from the register at first. “Ahoy, welcome to scoops, how can I help you?” he said emotionlessly as he counted the money in the drawer.

I paused to think what to say, “yeah just one scoop of the salted Caramel in a cone and two Rocky roads.”

He continued looking down, “that’ll be $8.47”. He held his hand out for the money and finally looked up. “Oh, hey (y/n), you’re here.” He paused for a while. “Wow, yeah you uh clean up nice, I uh how can I help you?”

“I’m just stopping in with my friends, and I was hoping to get some ice cream, two rocky roads and…”

“Salted caramel, three scoops in a large cone. I got it.” He winked.

“Hey is Robin here?”

“Yeah she’s on break in the back. Robin! (Y/n)s here!”

I heard some shuffling, then she popped her head out the window again. “Hi (y/n), you look good today.”

“Thanks.”

“Steve, stop staring at her and make the ice cream we got customers waiting in line.” She added before closing the window shut. He scolded her under his breath as he went to make the ice cream. I tried to hide my excitement over the idea he was staring at me.

He handed me my ice cream, which was much larger than the ones he handed me for my friends. “On the house.”

“Thanks, Stevie.” I said before turning to walk off.

“Hey, you still have to pay for your friends. I only give out free ice cream to my favorite customers.” He smirked. I could feel how much I was blushing, and I knew there was no hiding it. I paid for Jamie and Carters ice cream prepared to make them pay me back for it later, when Steve stopped me again. “Hey, I don't know when you intend to leave for this family vacation you got, but if you’re not busy, I’ve been thinking about trying out this movie theater over here. I haven’t been since the mall opened, and it could be fun.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

I could barely breathe, “I leave tomorrow morning, but I’m free tonight.”

“Tonight it is then, how about we meet here at 8:00?”

“Sounds perfect.” I said, taking my ice cream before I fainted in front of him.

“It’s a date.” He called out as I left the store, and I nearly squealed once the door was shut behind me.

[bobawitch]

Saving my Rebel (Eddie Munson x Reader)

A/n: this is my first time with this kind of thing, I hope everyone likes it

It was a typical Tuesday and you couldn't help but bite your bottom lip as you looked at the clock waiting for Eddie and his band to burst through. Your focus snapped back to your job when your coworker walked up by you, bumping your shoulder. 

"I'm headed out buddy! Don't get too distracted tonight. We still have the drunks to serve." 

You rolled your eyes and flipped him the bird, your other hand wiping down the bar. You threw the rag over your shoulder, feeling it dampen your Dio shirt. You brushed a hand through your frizzy bangs before pulling a hair band from your wrist and tying your permed hair. 

You were the outcast back in the school year of 84 but Eddie was too. He wasn't so confident back then either but he managed to compliment your metal band shirt and you and him hung out since. You got him into dnd and he taught you the basics of guitar. You were a drum player but you wanted to switch so he helped you out saying something about owing you for his vest. When you graduated but he didn't you were ready to repeat the year so he wouldn't be alone but he told you to wait for him when he does graduate. But then another year went by and he didn't graduate. You were by his side and made him feel a bit better but he was still isolated for a while. By the end of your summer break away from Hawkins with your dad Eddie and you had fallen off. Not completely but you guys just kind of drifted apart. It wasn't until he came into your work with his bandmates that you guys reconnected. 

"Hey pretty lady! You spacing out already?" 

You snapped out of the memory to be faced with Eddie smiling at you, his band already setting up. A smile spread across your lips and you rolled your eyes. 

"Hey Munson. Shouldn't you be helping your bandmates up there?" 

He shrugged, leaning across the bar. He wore his usual Hellfire shirt which you recognized since you guys made it together. Back when you helped him plan it they hadn't thought of shirts, it happened after you graduated. The only difference today was that he didn't have his leather jacket on. His vest was there but not the leather jacket. You eyed his chest and he noticed, opening his mouth to tease. 

"BARTENDER" A drunk yelled and your eyes shot away. 

"Sorry! Coming!" And you gave Eddie a smile, grabbing a glass and filling it with that customer's usual. 

He sighed and walked up to the stage with his band as the show was starting. Once you took the last few orders and delivered the drinks you just sat behind the bar watching and listening to them play. 

You and Eddie kept making eye contact but you broke it anytime he made it. After what felt like nothing, you sighed as you looked at the clock, closing was soon and you had a lot of cleaning to do. Almost all the drunks had cleared out so you felt decent about starting to mop around. 

As you mopped behind the bar and turned off the taps you looked up at Eddie who was all packed up but he stayed unlike his friends. You tilted your head and a confused expression furrowed your brows. 

"Whatcha doin Munson?" 

"Waiting for your shift to end so I can take you home." 

You scoffed but a big smile spread on your lips. 

"How long till Spring Break?" 

Eddie sighed loudly and rubbed the sides of his head. 

"2 weeks." 

You laughed and set down the mop, hopping on stage to sit next to him. 

"You gonna pass this year?" 

"Oh hell yeah! 86 baby!! It's gotta be my year." 

You nodded before jumping back off the stage. 

"It better be dork." 

"Awe you missing me??" 

"Nah I just need a ride" you teased. 

He mimicked an offended scoff before smiling. He hopped off the stage with his guitar and you both walked out of the bar, you locking the doors behind. 

In the car Eddie pouted angrily since you had beat him to the music, slipping in your favorite mixtape. 

The car bumped down the road as David Bowie's Rebel Rebel filled the air between you two. You sang along happily and even if it wasn't the typical metal that you and Eddie liked he still sung bits and pieces. As he turned on your street you nudged his shoulder. 

"This song should be your theme." 

He rolled his eyes. "Suuuure" 

You smirked and hopped out of the car, leaving your mixtape. Eddie popped it out and leaned over the passenger seat trying to give it to you. 

"You left your mixtape goon!" 

"Keep it!!" You shouted back before running into your house.

[whump-town]

(I have been very fortunate in the men that I have befriended in my life. It’s sad that isn’t the case for everyone)

The first time it occurs to Jennifer Jareau that she shouldn’t be safe where she is, it’s midnight. Her eyes snap open and a panicked exhale leaves her lips. She sits up, pulling the thin, chilled sheets of the hotel comforter around her. For a moment all she can do is glare at her roommate. All she can do is think about how stupid she’s just been. 

The first rule in the sisterhood is to never trust a man too much.

Especially one like Aaron Hotchner.

He’s half a foot taller than her and probably about a hundred pounds heavier. He could pin her down, hurt her with no problem at all. Yet, she’d fallen asleep with no less than six feet separating them. She’s seen him mad, he could easily hurt her if he wanted. The ring on his left-hand means nothing… not really. Not to the wrong men but… 

Guilt floods her chest. 

He’d apologized three times coming up here. Telling her that he understood she’d be much more comfortable having a room to herself, as she typically does, and he was so sorry he couldn’t make that happen tonight. That she’d have to share a room with him, acknowledging how scary it might be for her, as a woman, to sleep beside a male co-worker.

The man in question shifts in his sleep, drawing his long legs closer to his body and pulling the blanket tighter over his shoulders. 

But he’s not just some male-coworker. He’s the man she trusts to watch her drink at bars and the man who brings her coffee when he gets his own each morning. 

Hotch. 

She settles back down in the bed, rolled to face him. His back is facing her, completely oblivious to her racing thoughts. With a sigh, she pulls the blanket back up over her own shoulders. It’s kind of… strange to be able to trust in a man. But she does and that’s strangely nice.

The next time it happens he’s awake. It’s nearly two in the morning and he’s still sitting on his bed, eyebrows crooked and frowning into the paperwork in his lap. The case is solved. They’re going home. To his right, Emily is laying in bed. He can feel her gaze on him. 

He doesn’t say anything though and she’s found that to be just another example of the strangeness of this team. There’s no pressure to talk. No pressure to always say what’s on your mind.

Working with Interpol, she’d had more than her fair share of sexual harassment seminars. The men always act like they have no idea why they would be here while their female colleges are forced to lower their gazes. Not here, though. Not with this team. 

She’d swapped rooms with Reid this afternoon. Morgan had convinced him to go to a bar and Reid had been kind enough to realize that she might not appreciate him coming back in the middle of the night. And… she’d realized how frequently she and JJ roomed with the boys and not one another. Technically, it should be safer and more comforting but…

Last night she’d come out of the shower without a bra and in shorts that were very revealing. Leaving little to the imagination.  Yet, Morgan had looked up from whatever crappy program the hotel’s tv picked up and he hadn’t said a word. He didn’t look her up and down like meat at the deli or make a passing comment about her ass or boobs. He’d just yawned into his fist and asked if she was done with the bathroom because he felt nasty and needed a shower. 

This afternoon when Reid had told her his plan-- that he should take her bed with Morgan and she could have his with Hotch-- she didn’t think it would be weird. And it isn’t now. A few years ago, though, on a different team, she would have freaked out a little. Thought of all the things that could wrong. Today, she’d just shrugged and took the deal. 

Hotch doesn’t snore, Morgan does. Switching rooms sounds like heaven.

And now she’s falling asleep and he’s still awake. Technically, she’s leaving herself vulnerable to him but Hotch, like Morgan, is harmless. They’re both mushy bastards. He’s not going to bother her other than to, maybe, add a blanket to the one she’s already got wrapped around her shoulders.  

She wears clothes that are comfortable, not worried about how much skin she’s showing because they’re not going to treat her differently because of that. For the first time in her life, her male friends aren’t perverts. She’s they’re equal. They’re friends and nothing more. There is no abuse of power or size. Just respect and that’s so strange.  

At first, David Rossi throws them all a little off. 

He’s a very flirt first and make friends second kind of guy. 

When he joins the team, the three of them hoard up in Garcia’s office and discuss their opinions on him. One thing is very, very clear-- none of them want to ever room with him.

How very quickly that changes…

“Rossi?” Garcia’s standing outside his door, her blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. 

He comes to the door in his pajamas. A whole set. Bottoms and a white t-shirt. In the settling this afternoon, he’d ended up alone in his room. She’d called Morgan while Emily vehemently stated she would not be rooming with Reid. Hotch had been in the middle of rolling his eyes at the comment when JJ had taken some pity on the genius and told Hotch she didn’t mind rooming with him.

Which left two rooms for Hotch, Rossi, and Emily. 

It was a lucky guess that Hotch and Emily would let Rossi have his own room.

“What is it, sweetheart?” 

He was very obviously sleeping before she’d come knocking. She feels a little bad about that. “Morgan’s snoring up a storm,” she explains. “Do you mind if I crash in the other bed in your room?”

Rossi shakes his head and steps to the side, letting her in. “Course not,�� he mumbles, shutting the door behind them. “Go for it,” he motions to the bed and rubs at his eyes. He sits heavily on the edge of the bed, yawning. He waits a moment for her to settle down. “Goodnight,” he mumbles, the sound of his sheets moving as he settles down sounding through the dark as he cuts the light off.

It doesn’t occur to her the way that it occurs to JJ or Emily. 

One moment she’s drifting to sleep and the next she’s smiling at where she knows Rossi is in the dark. Her little team can be badasses, they really can, but they’re just a  bunch of sweethearts.

They never find the words to say exactly what that means to them. 

How comforting it actually is to have them close instead of awkward. 

That Emily knows Hotch isn’t looking down her blouse when he silently walks up behind her and reads from the file in her hand. She just shifts it in her grasp so that he can see it easier. 

Or that JJ isn’t creeped out when Morgan drinks from her mug or offers her his. In fact, she does drink after him. It’s just Morgan. He’s like her brother and, frankly, sometimes drinking/eating after one another is the only way to get things done. 

They take it for granted a lot of the time. 

That hugging their friends isn’t ever going to result in a slap on the ass or a casual glance at their breasts. 

(although, other men have done it and earned prompt glares)

Not even Reid and his strange ability to place himself under-foot. Right next to whoever he’s standing beside. 

It feels weird to want to thank them for something so simple. Hell, for something no one should have to feel but…

So they find other ways. 

JJ kisses Hotch’s cheek and takes Morgan dancing. Even that doesn’t feel wrong because she knows neither will take it anyway but the way she means it to be taken. Morgan places his hands on her hips and it doesn’t feel dirty. It feels like friends having fun. Dave slow dances with them, and kisses their cheeks. Garcia manages to pull Hotch for a dance. 

They have fun and never for a moment to feel anything but perfectly safe with their male friends. And what a unique experience that really is. 

[burnedbyshoto]

disconnected

— Kirishima answers a phone call that wasn’t intended for him, and of course he can’t help but be interested in the beautiful voice and soul that angrily began to rant about their day. —

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pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, lil angst (lol sorry), cursing

word count: 7,786

a/n: this was a stupid thought that slammed into my mind, and here it is!!!! now I have a calc midterm tomorrow that I did not look at because why think about double derivatives and integrals when I can think about kirishima????

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It was eleven at night when Kirishima strolled out of his bathroom, ready to go to bed. After a rather long day, he was looking forward to sleeping and not having to wake up at the crack of dawn. Tomorrow for the very first day in a very long time, he wouldn’t have to work at the local coffee shop he was hired at. It was a job he had acquired with his good friends on the promise of it being a manageable job on top of his college work, and of course, the pretty girls who would go in.

From what Kirishima had gathered from the four months working there was that there were a lot of pretty girls who entered the coffee shop — most of which were focused on the angry ash-blond friend of his — and that it was so unnecessarily stressful. 

Some days he was up at four in the morning to open at six for the morning regulars, then he’d go to his afternoon classes, only to return for a two-hour shift in the middle of rush hour, and would leave while trying to keep the peace between a certain ash-blond and two new hires. To say the least, it was hell on Earth at times. 

Regardless, he didn’t have to open tomorrow morning, so he was content! On top of not having classes tomorrow, Kirishima was excited to sleep in.

Falling on his bed with a massive sigh, Kirishima snuggled his face into his pillow, rejoicing in the way that the laundry detergent still clung to the fabric and relaxed.

Sleep sounded so—

RIIING.

RIIING.

Kirishima’s eyes slammed open, his head snapping to see his illuminating phone on his nightstand. He had no idea who the hell was calling this late. There was no way it was Bakugou; he was asleep already at this point. Sero had broken his phone two days ago during a failed stunt and wouldn’t be able to get a new phone until the weekend. Kaminari only called him when there was a bug in his apartment, but he was currently closing… maybe it was Mina? Kirishima shook his head, no, he hadn’t spoken to Mina in ages.

Grabbing the phone, he didn’t bother to look at the caller ID and answered.

“Hello—?”

“Oh my god, I am fucking raging! You can’t believe what kind of fuckery I just went through tonight!” a voice shouted into the receiver, and Kirishima flinched a bit at the loud and angry voice. “So you know how I wasn’t supposed to work today, right? Because my coworker had sex with her ex-boyfriend like an idiot, and I owed her for covering my shift three months ago, but anyways irrelevant. I’m taking the order of this one group of adults. That’s right, A-D-U-L-T-S, adults! They are completely staring at my tits the entire time, and not my face. At first, I thought maybe you know, I had spilled something on my tits earlier, no. No! NOTHING! So I call them out on it, and they say something along the lines of ‘you could be a camgirl with that body, but like not in a sex sort of way’ I’m sorry, WHAT?! Like yes, continue sexually harassing your server who is a college student and therefore has no will to live, so will gladly beat your Gucci belt wearing ass into a bloody pulp! What they gonna do? Sue me? I have one dollar to my name, fucking take it, I don’t care, I’ll find another dollar in the sewer after I beat their asses up!

“But you know, I’m saying all this in my head because I’m broke and can’t afford to be fired from this place because the tips are hella good here. But they continue saying dumb shit, and then the obvious ringleader — I know he was the ring leader because his beard looks like it was the first picture printed on a new ink cartridge and his manspread was ten times wider than all of theirs — have the fucking audacity to slip his number while only tipping TEN DOLLARS ON A TWO HUNDRED DOLLAR TAB!!!!” Kirishima doesn’t know what to say, his jaw on his mattress, breathing having stopped while your voice wheezes from your lack of air. He makes a croaking noise, wanting to speak up and apologize for what had happened and for not being the person you thought it was, but it seemed that you weren’t over. “AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THAT FUCKING KAREN!!! ‘I didn’t like the way you looked at me so I won’t be tipping you tonight!’ yeah, well maybe if you didn’t order enough FOOD TO FEED AN ARMY AND KEPT SENDING IT BACK I WOULDN’T BE LOOKING AT YOU LIKE THAT!!!”

There was a pause, and Kirishima, while feeling entirely sorry for you, finally spoke, “Fuck, that sounds... horrible.”

“Damn right, it was horri— wait, who the fuck is this?” your voice squeaked, and Kirishima almost started to laugh at the difference in the tone your voice took. Once so loud, angry, and entirely ‘fuck the world,’ had changed into a meek and embarrassed voice.

“Um, this is Kirishima. Kirishima Eijiriou?”

“This isn’t Hagakure?” you moaned into the phone. “03-9082-2395? That isn’t this number?”

“2-2-9-5,” Kirishima repeated his own number back, a small smile overcame his features knowing that you had accidentally misdialed a number.

“Fuck my fat fingers,” you cursed, and Kirishima chuckled lightly at the mutterings that were poorly picked up. “Well, um, I am so sorry for calling you and dumping that unnecessary bullshit on you—”

“No, no,” Kirishima interrupted, rolling onto his back, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling. “It’s totally okay! You seem less stressed out now too, and it really isn’t a big deal!”

“You are very kind, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, and Kirishima can’t help but imagine a figure curled up on a couch.

“Thank you!” he beamed, a hand threading through his hair, “um, but what happened with the Karen? And why were you typing in your friend’s phone number?”

“Do you really want to know?” you ask after a fit of bubbling laughter; it seemed that you were not at all convinced.

“I work at a coffee shop for one, so I totally understand the Karen situations! Secondly, all my contacts are on my phone, I don’t have a single one of them memorized!”

“Okay, okay, okay, I do not have this number memorized! Hagakure is my roommate, and she has a new number that she left posted on our fridge and because Mr. Sprinkles left in the middle of my rant, I called her to finish it!” you explain in what Kirishima could only consider being childlike glee. “And a coffee shop? Oof, Kirishima, you might have it just as bad as I do then.”

“Ever had a boiling cup of coffee thrown back at your face?”

“Shut. Up.”

“I wish I was joking!”

“The nastiest thing I’ve ever been put through is a highschool couple breaking up in the middle of the restaurant, and a bowl of cold soup and milkshake were thrown at me! And I had to work for another five hours!”

“That… that beat mine by a long shot…”

“Okay, but like, it was cold. If you hadn’t dodged, you’d be dead!”

As time passed Kirishima soon found himself sitting up on his bed, his back pressed against the headboard, a lamp on so that he wasn’t in the dark while he talked to you. Somehow conversation flowed so perfectly between the two of you, so smoothly, so naturally. You had extremely compelling energy and a pretty bright one at that as well. Your stories were exceedingly extravagant, most derailing into hundreds of side stories before making its way back to the main point, but he didn’t mind. Though there was no proof, he imagined that your arms were swinging around while you talked, a bright smile on your face, and lights shining in your eyes.

“So anyway, I had to beg my professor to let me remake this exam because, for some reason, my brain would not switch back to Japanese. I almost cried because I was only speaking in English, and I think because I am an amazing person, my professor let me do that!” you laughed after explaining an issue with being fluent in a third language. 

“My English skills deteriorated after leaving high school, I’m rather jealous you can speak three languages,” Kirishima admitted, his head falling back onto the cold wall. “My Japanese professors probably think my Japanese sucks too.”

“Just because I am amazing and can speak three languages doesn’t mean I’m perfect at it,” you laugh, obviously trying to make him feel better about himself.

“Mm, I don’t know, you’re painting yourself as a pretty perfect person,” Kirishima sighed. “Or you have an enormous ego…”

A loud scoff came from your end of the phone, and Kirishima waited for your verbal retaliation but was met with a moment of silence.

“Oh! Welcome home!” you called out, and Kirishima quickly put together that your roommate Hagakure was home. “Yeah, no, I’m talking to someone right now! ...who? Oh, um, a friend! ...no, I tried to call you when I got home but misdialed your number and got him instead! NO! You’re not going to get a pic of him! Wait, it’s what time?!”

Kirishima’s eyes fell over to his alarm clock and saw in the dim red light that it was 04:57. 

His jaw dropped.

“Well, um, Kirishima, it seems that our call is going to end,” you whisper into the phone, and Kirishima lets out a breathless chuckle, sudden sleepiness creeping into him. “It was pretty fun chatting with you stranger, thanks for putting up with that ranting in the beginning! Most normal people wouldn’t have picked up or let me rant like that!”

“It’s no problem,” Kirishima smiled softly, his fingers stretching out to turn off the light. He licked his lips, five hours on a phone call with an absolute stranger, and he didn’t have your name, and better yet, a part of him wanted to ask if it was okay to be friends. You were magnetic to him, and he wanted to know more about you, even if this was this weird modern and accidental penpal thing. “I didn’t have anything to do today, and you were fun talking to!”

“Aww, thank you!”

Silence.

Ask, he thought, his teeth biting down onto his bottom lip. Ask!

“Um, I know this is weird and all, but do you think I can keep your number?” you ask, your voice almost timid and meek.

Kirishima’s heart rate spikes at those words, he very much wanted that, but his mouth had a mind of its own it seemed. “Why?”

“Wha— well, I just had a lot of fun talking with you! It was fun, and I don’t know, you seem like a pretty chill guy!”

His fingers gripped his phone, a warmth spreading through him when he relaxed under his sheets. “On one condition.”

“Oof, if you’re going to ask to decide between Crimson Riot or All Might you’re going to be—”

“No, no,” Kirishima lets out a snort, his shoulders rolling while he imagines the curious look coming over your face. “I would like to know your name?”

“My name? Why would you want— HOLY SHIT! I never gave you—” there was a loud noise on your end of the call, and Kirishima heard you apologize profusely before returning in a hushed whisper. “Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t give you my name?!”

“No,” he laughed loudly, one that was pushed from his belly, spreading warmth through his body. “You never did, but I did learn every name of every person you’ve ever talked with!”

“God,” you groan, a small whine emitted from you. “I’m an idiot, I’m so sorry! Y/l/n y/n at your service!”

Y/l/n y/n, that’s a pretty name, he thought while imagining just what you could look like. 

“Well, goodnight y/l/n, I’ll save your number, and we’ll see if you still would like to be friends when you wake up?”

There was a small noise of agreement, “I’m like a drug, Kirishima, you’ll be back for more.”

“Okay, okay, goodnight…”

“Goodnight, sweet dreams!”

“Sweet dreams.”

Kirishima listened to the line ending, and he pulled his phone away from his ear and no sooner did he do that, a text came in at what he believed to be your number:

don’t let the bed bugs bite! 🕷😱‼️

He snorted and replied back before eventually letting sleep consume him.

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“You’ll never believe what just happened!” you squealed into the phone, and Kirishima laughed while wiping his sweaty face with a white towel. You had called thirty minutes earlier than usual and had caught him leaving the gym.

It had been a bit over two months since your misdial, and things with you had been going pretty well for strangers. The two of you didn’t talk every day, most weeks going by with just a single call, but they were always delightful talks. You worked most nights, and he most mornings, the two of you discovered. So most calls took place the night he didn’t have to work the following morning. 

“You got a customer who complained that there was too much salt in their meal that had no salt in it?” he asked, pulling a random story of something that had happened at his own coffee shop today. You let out an amused snort, a clear indicator that he was wrong, but found his guess to be amusing at the very least.

“No, but oddly enough, someone did ask for an insane amount of salt on their food and hated it!” you sang, clearly happy with how you found their distress to be funny.

“Close enough!” Kirishima laughed, but he was straight out of guesses, so he stopped. “So, what happened?”

“I tried coffee for the first time ever today!” you squealed loudly, and Kirishima cheered happily.

Through these two months, there were some hard facts that Kirishima had learned about you. One, you were living in the same city as him. Two, you worked at a semi-classy restaurant. Three, you had two roommates named Hagakure and Jirou. Four, you were twenty, just like him. And five, you were a child who only drank hot chocolate and tea because you were afraid of coffee.

~

“Caffeine is a drug you know,” you had snarkily teased him one night when he said he was going to make a cup of coffee. “Nice to know I’m friends with an addict!”

“If drugs were as amazing as coffee, I’d be an addict!”

“You know…” your voice whispered, your voice suddenly taking a guilty approach. “I’ve never actually tried coffee…”

“WHAT?!”

~

“Wow, look at you, becoming an old woman in front of my own eyes!” Kirishima chuckled, starting his walk back home. 

His fingers pushed the headphones to be more secure over his ears, hopeful that there it wouldn’t pick up too heavily on the wind of the outside world. 

“To be honest, it wasn’t that good, your taste buds are just tarnished from drinking that bitter crap all day!” you huff and he half imagined you turning your nose up.

“Okay, okay,” Kirishima laughed, a warmth flooding in his chest at the sounds of your muffled laughter. A visible indicator that you were also amused at this. “I hated coffee until I started working at a coffee shop, and that was because I needed to know my shit.”

“Wow, you only got that job while not being a coffee addict?” you tease. “Seems like a fake barista to me.”

“It’s pretty hard to believe, I know,” Kirishima stated his tone one of fake melancholy. “I’m so sorry for deceiving you, and honestly, I am a shit barista.”

“Aww, don’t say that!” you exclaim, and it seems like you’re ready to fight him. “I bet you put all those fancy TikTok baristas to shame!”

“TikTok?” he laughed, his pace speeding up just a bit so he would get home faster. “Wow, I am honored you think that!”

The light conversation continued, nothing too deep or too intense, just chatter about today's shifts and classes. Eventually, Kirishima made it back into his apartment complex, and stumbled into his room, collapsing onto his bed. 

“Can I ask something?” you ask suddenly, and Kirishima lets out a small hum.

“Yeah, of course, what’s up?”

“What do you look like?” you asked softly as if you were curled up in bed, seconds from letting sleep consume you. “I haven’t come up with a mental image that I like, and well, I want some hints.”

“I can just send you a picture of me,” Kirishima smiles, his eyes closing. “It would be much easier than me trying to explain to you what I look like.”

“No!” you disagree, and there's a long sigh from your end of the phone. “I’m not ready for that kind of information yet, Kiri. I just… I can’t accept a pic of you without sending one back, and I’m not mentally ready for that yet…”

“Don’t tell me the big fat Gucci bougie you is shy?!” Kirishima exclaimed, humor drowning his words as he referenced you to something you had called yourself one drunken night weeks ago.

“Not shy!” you bemoan, your voice muffling out at the end of it. “I’m more scared you’ll find me ugly and ghost me…”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Kirishima interjected, his voice stable and confident.

“Which part?”

“Both parts.”

“How do you know that? You don’t know what I look like…”

“...call it… Kirishima’s intuition,” Kirishima slowly stated, his eyebrows furrowing. “I find your voice and your personality to be attractive on their own, so I would never ghost you. And of course, appearance isn’t anything; plus, there’s no way you’re not gorgeous.”

He says these words with honest truth, and a part of him fears he overstepped and made you wildly uncomfortable with the amount of silence that is heard from your end of the line. But finally, as Kirishima is ready to apologize to you, a soft exhale is heard.

“You’re a dork,” you whisper, and a soft grin spreads on his own face. “Anyways, I’ll ask questions, you answer them first, and then I’ll do the same.”

“Sounds good!”

“Hair color?”

“Black, but I dye it red.”

“Mm, edgy teenager, I like it, and also knew that because you complained about your stained sheets! Eye color?”

“Red.”

“Oh, am I sensing a theme? How tall are you?”

“I’m… a bit over six feet?”

The list went on, most questions becoming more of a joke than anything else, but he was glad that you were asking these things because now he had an insight on how you looked too. You had told him your eye color, your hair color, how tall you were, and a whole bunch of trivial things he would have never thought to ask about to begin with.

“Okay, last question!” you cheered, happy to have finally included Kirishima into your inside joke that revolved around your eyebrows. “Do you have any distinguishing features?”

“Well, I don’t actually...” Kirishima admitted, his fingers brushing against the scar on his eye, and then it hit him. That was one! “Oh, wait—” CRASH. A loud crashing noise emitted from your side of the call.

“Shit, hold on!” you curse and Kirishima can only remain silent while he hears you yelling in the background, it was too far away for him to quite understand, but it was enough to know that it didn’t sound okay. 

Kirishima sat on his side of the call, the phone pressed to his ear while he tried to strip his gross and sweaty shirt from his body. His teeth bit into his lip, his canine pressing into the permanent indent of his lip, an indicator of how anxious he used to be. 

“Fuck, Kiri?” your voice suddenly snapped back onto the call, your tone frantic and quick.

“Everything okay?”

“No, Hagakure showed up drunker than… a drunken drunk, I don’t know expressions, ANYWAYS I know tonight is our unofficial official call night, but anyway I can get a rain check?”

There was guilt that swallowed your voice, a pang of guilt that made Kirishima warm a bit because it showed that you valued these calls, just like him. 

“Of course, I don’t have class or work Friday morning this time around, so Thursday night?”

“That works perfectly,” you sigh, gratitude. “I owe you, text you later if you don’t fall asleep! Goodnight, sweet dreams, love ya!”

Kirishima couldn’t repeat the whole statement before you hastily hung up, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face the entire time he showered. The shower didn’t take too long, and by the time he emerged from the shower, towel around his neck and his waist, he had a text message. 

sero - hey bro!!! i can’t pick up my morning shift tomorrow i know you have tonight to speak w y/n but todoroki and bakugou can’t cover it!

Kirishima sighed, he definitely didn’t have anything tomorrow anyways, he could manage with going in for an extra shift to help a friend.

kirishima - yeah sure what time?

sero - youre a life saver T-T im covering 8 am - 3 pm!!!

Kirishima sent a simple affirmative emoji before finishing up his nightly routine. 

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Kirishima looked at his apron while he was assembling himself in the backroom. The aroma of roasted coffee beans and pastries was almost pungent in the back, and he was eager to get out of there. As per employee regulations, he was to wear a black apron, a name tag, and something to hold his hair because it was a bit too long, for that, he wore a white bandana around his forehead.

“Wait, where’s my name tag?” Kirishima called out, his eyebrows furrowing when he turned out to Kaminari, who was currently in the back with him.

The blond froze and scratched the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly, “About that…”

So Kirishima was in the front of the store with a shiny silver name tag that read Hanta Sero. Because Kaminari was the best barista they had on hand currently, he was busy teaching Midoriya — their newest hire — around the bar. For now, Todoroki was nowhere to be found, and Kirishima was handling the cash register. 

Today was a slow morning, most people had their day off today, so morning coffee rush wasn’t in existence. Sure, there were a few outliers, but it was never chaotic. 

The gentle bell of the front door rang, and Kirishima automatically called out.

“Welcome!”

You had walked into the store, your eyebrows furrowed while you prayed that this was the coffee shop your roommates had been raving about. You’d never been here before, but it was the closest coffee shop available that wasn’t something generic and basic like Starbucks. You looked up from your phone at the voice, a thank you automatically being repeated while you neared the register.

You froze when you saw the red hair and the red eyes of the handsome man at the register. A careless thought entered your mind, Kirishima said he had red hair and red eyes… but he said he didn’t work today… 

A kind smile sat on his face, his eyes taking you in, waiting for you to approach him. 

This couldn’t be him, right?

The last time you had assumed a redhead working in a coffee shop was Kirishima, it had ended embarrassingly. 

“Um, hi,” you drawled out, your eyes reading the board to figure out your own order. 

Kirishima couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, you were exactly what you had described to him, but he wouldn’t ask until he was sure. He would ask you for your name after collecting your order for either tea or hot chocolate, and if it was you, he’d reveal that he was Kirishima. But he didn’t want to be wrong; he didn’t want to pin any other person as you, after all.

“I’ve never been here before,” you confess, your hand rubbing the back of your head. You were transfixed on the caramel macchiato that was spelled in the prettiest font, though, plus Hagakure promised all their coffee was good. 

“Oh, well, welcome! If you need any recommendations or have anything else to order, I can put those through while you look?”

His smile was kind, and you felt blood rush to your face, something you desperately tried to fight off by thinking of anything you didn’t like. 

“Oh! I do have two orders, though! There’s going to be one chai tea latte with three pumps of vanilla, and a lavender tea with a splash of oat milk.”

Kirishima nodded his head, “Will this be for here, or to go?”

His voice sounds so similar to Kirishima, you hoped, studying his face. While you answered that it was to go, you saw a distinctive scar on his right eye. Kirishima had said he didn’t have any distinguishing features… 

“What are your favorites here?” you ask, your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, your thoughts very evident in your face.

Kirishima couldn’t help but find hope bubbling up in his chest, there was always the possibility that you two lived in the same city-based off the same area code, and with what seemed like an incomplete knowledge in coffee, maybe…

Kirishima rambled off about the different seasonal drinks right now, his recommendations leaning towards the teas and non-coffee things primarily after his general and basic list. You seemed to take every word out of his lip like gospel, agreeing and nodding when appropriate, and his lips stretched into a grin when you bluntly exclaimed your ill knowledge of this all.

“To be honest, I only step into coffee shops to take a cute pic and then leave,” you laugh, pressing your hands against your lips and screaming a bit in your throat. 

Kirishima laughed, more confidence blooming through his body over the hope that this was you. It had to be you.

Your eyes then found the nametag on his apron, and like a sinking ship, you read Sero.

Not Kirishima.

“And for you?”

“I’ll have the caramel macchiato,” you decide, a grateful smile on your face while he looks down and writes the orders.

“A name?”

“Penny,” came your automatic response.

You never used your real name in coffee shops.

Kirishima suppressed the way that his mouth wanted to drop into a sad smile, and like two rejected teenagers, the money was exchanged. Before Kirishima could attempt to calm his disappointed soul, you walked out of the shop with the coffees and tea in hand.

“What was that about?” Kaminari asked, his eyes wide. “There was so much flirting and then poof, gone from both sides. Come on, dude, it’s my job to fail at flirting, not yours!”

Kirishima laughed, ignoring the way that his three friends looked at him with concern and curiosity. “Nothing, I just… the customer looked like how y/n described herself to be…”

“Oh… sorry, bro.”

“Nah, it’s all good,” Kirishima waved it off, and without so much as another slap on the back, he went back to work.

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“What the hell are you doing?”

Kirishima looked up from his phone, his fingers mid-type pausing only for a millisecond before continuing to text blindly. 

“Oh, hey, Bakubro, what’s up?” he cheerfully spoke, ignorant to the controller in the ash blond’s hand. 

“It’s your turn, shitty hair, pay fucking attention!” Bakugou barked, tossing the plastic controller into his chest. Kirishima grunted, the feeling of the plastic slamming against his chest was less than ideal, but the smile on his face didn’t waiver while he offered his best friend the controller back.

“It’s all good, you can have another turn, I can handle being out this round!”

“Kiri, that’s six rounds in a row,” Kaminari spoke up, his face in a teasing smirk.

It was then that Kirishima’s face turned approximately the same color as his hair. “I didn’t—”

“Awww, Eijirou has a little crush on y/n!!!” Kaminari sang, resulting in agreeing with noises from Sero and Midoriya. Only Bakugou and Todoroki remained silent. 

Kirishima only laughed, he knew he couldn’t deny that fact, but he wouldn’t say it aloud — especially because Bakugou seemed to hate you. It had been now four months since the two of you had ‘meet,’ and while he still had no face to imagine you with, things had taken a slightly flirty route between the two of you.

Calls were much more frequent, nearly all nights the two of you would speak, even if it was just a measly summary of the day and a ‘sweet dreams’ and a ‘goodnight’ and an ‘I love you.’ It always happened nowadays.

Tonight was an exception, of course, because he was out with his friends, and apparently, you were doing the same. 

“You can’t be fucking serious?” Bakugou spat, a laugh spluttering from his lips, but it was cold and held no humor. “You caught feelings for a person who’s too much of a fucking coward to reveal a picture of themselves?”

“That’s not fair; besides, it's not about physical appearance!” Kirishima waved him off, pressing send to his text message.

have fun tonight! text me when u get back home if ur able to!

“Just how naive can you be?” Bakugou sneered, his hand taking the phone from Kirishima's side. “Six months of talking every week, texting every day, and this y/n still hasn’t trusted you with a single picture of them? I know you said that she told you how she looked, and all that shit, but let's be real, it’s so easy to lie about how you look like when you don’t have to provide a picture. What y/n say? Big tits? Big ass? Small waist? What about her did she say that made you so fucking insane over her?”

“N-Nothing! We didn’t talk about our body types!” Kirishima’s eyes widened significantly, the once comfortable atmosphere of the room wholly gone while Bakugou’s vermillion eyes seethed silently. “None of that matters! I told you the truth! I like y/n because of her personality, she’s manly, and I like that a lot! It’s not about her appearance, how pessimistic can you get, bro! I promise you, she’s trustworthy!”

“Is she really?”

“What?”

“How can you be in love with someone who you trust entirely, but doesn’t trust you at all? You said that y/n won’t show you a picture of herself because she’s scared you won’t like her? How is that trusting you? How is that fucking fair? To me, that sounds like some fucked up catfishing thing.”

“We talk on the phone, dude,” Kirishima said softly, but those thoughts were invading his mind. Did you not trust him? He knew he wasn’t the best option in the world, and he had accepted that in time and by improving on what he thought he was best at. But did you, after all this time, really not believe him when he claimed nothing would change when he saw you? “Catfishes don’t even do that… besides, the first call was by accident, why would someone—”

“Dunce face, what’s that one fucking idiotic thing you do for fun?” Bakugou snapped at the blond, not even bothering to look at him.

“Well, there’s a lot of things I do that you—” Kaminari laughed awkwardly, his smile tight and awkward.

“Kaminari.”

“I call… random numbers… pretending to have a big issue to see how they react…” he admitted, and Kirishima’s stomach clenched.

“And?” Bakugou snarled.

“I pretend to be a girl…”

“Don’t be stupid, Bakugou, this is more than one time!” Kirishima groaned.

“It's a voice that you can’t attach a face to, who knows if this is a person you can trust! People with voice acting exist in this world, how the hell do you possibly know that they’re not one of them?! Be fucking real, if ‘y/n’ trusted you, if that’s even their name, they wouldn’t be hiding their face from you.”

Kirishima didn’t say anything else, the acid piling in his throat was too much for him to even look at his friend. The night didn’t really recover from that conversation, and Kirishima eventually found himself back home.

He sat at the edge of his bed, his phone in his hands, waiting for a message from you. He couldn’t sleep, and even though he had work tomorrow morning, he found himself wide awake, unable to let sleep consume.

It was three in the morning when you sent a text, his eyes still wide awake, and with shaky fingers, he read the message.

i just got home can you believe that i drank three cups of wine and didnt get tipsy??????? thats on being a raging alcoholic ;D

Kirishima wanted to laugh; on god, he would’ve found this beyond delightful to read because he knew you couldn’t handle your liquor, but that bitter stream of acid destroyed the humor in his thoughts.

Were you really telling the truth? Was this all a lie?

He didn’t text back; instead, his finger pressed the call button, and he held his breath.

“Helloooo?” a voice picked up on the second ring, but it wasn’t your voice. It was a voice he didn’t recognize at all.

‘Voice actors,’ Bakugou’s voice reentered his thoughts, and the phone in his hand nearly dropped.

“Sorry, hello?” the voice he knew as you finally came through, and Kirishima let out a shallow breath, one so small, so mediocrely weak it burned his lungs.

“Do you trust me?” he asked softly, maybe too softly because you asked with a strained laugh for him to repeat his words. “Do you trust me, y/n?”

There was a pause on your end, too long a beat for Kirishima to be comfortable with.

“Of course I trust you, Ei, are you okay?”

“Do you actually trust me, or are you lying?”

“Woah there,” you said a small laugh on your tongue, but there was only confusion in it, not your contagious sound. “Did you drink? It’s a work night, you never do that!”

“Answer the question,” Kirishima spoke with finality, his shoulders tense, tears pushing past his eyes while he struggled to maintain composure.

Prove Bakugou wrong, please, prove Bakugou wrong.

“Of course I do,” you spoke with genuine clarity, but still, Kirishima was rattled, his confidence blown. “What’s going on?”

Did he want to confess to his insecurities? Was it worth it? His breathing became frantic, almost as if he was going insane just thinking about where his thoughts were. But Kirishima was never good at hiding things, no he was as open as a book.

“Why won’t you let me see you… we’ve been friends for six months, and the only thing I know about you is your eye color and your hair color. It’s so insanely generic that I can’t… I can’t do this.”

“What are you trying to say?” you ask, your voice small, almost a whisper of all the energy one could have at this time of night.

“I can’t be friends with someone who doesn’t trust me, who’s using me,” he spoke with perfect clarity that hid away his insecurities about this all. “For all, I know nothing about you is real, that this is all just some ploy to hurt me in the end. Six months and you can’t trust me with a single meet up or even a picture? I just… has this been a game for you, y/n? Or is that even your name.”

The call ended and a single message held on his screen, this call has been dropped, but you didn’t seem to want to call him back.

Kirishima didn’t sleep a wink that night, his words coming back to bite him in the throat each and every time he thought he was close enough to sleep. Insecurities riled up in him, consuming him entirely.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

He tried to call back.

For fourteen straight days, Kirishima attempted to call you back.

Every time he called you, he would always hang up before he could take back his words. But each call, after he had prematurely hung up, he would recant his mean words to the unresponsive phone. He did trust you, he was weak, he was unmanly to assume those things. You could take, however long it took to finally trust him again because he would wait for you no matter what. He apologized again and again until the very last one he broke down into silent tears, a single message of ‘I hope one day you’ll forgive me’ hung weakly on his voice and put his phone away. 

It was sixteen days since he had spoken those cruel words to you, and in that time, he didn’t regret finally talking about his ill feelings towards wanting to reveal yourself to him. But he did regret the way it came out; instead of it being a deep and personal conversation, it came out as bitter and one-sided. The two of you were disconnected, and he felt empty.

But he couldn’t focus on it, not today, after all, it was Bakugou’s birthday, and everyone was gathering at the local fancy restaurant to celebrate. 

Kirishima dressed up presentable, wearing a navy blue button-up, and dark slacks. He walked towards the entrance of the restaurant where Kaminari, Sero, and Midoriya were eagerly leading the group of them into the building. Typically Kirishima would’ve been with them in terms of spirit, but he felt energyless at the moment.

With the moon high in the sky, Kirishima stilled when Bakugou called out his name.

He stared at his best friend, the ash blond’s lip curled into a sneer while he huffed, “Listen, Kirishima, I’m sorry for what I said that night.”

“What? Oh, no, it’s okay, Bakugou!” Kirishima laughed, his hand slapping to the back of his neck. “You weren’t wrong.”

“I never said I was wrong,” Bakugou grunted, his eyes locked on Kirishima’s while he shoved his hands into his pockets. Kirishima stilled, unsure as to where this would be leading. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. I know that Mina hurt you badly, and you’re too big of an idiot to not see when things arise. Maybe y/n is genuine, but if you aren’t fucking honest with her about your own feelings about how she’s so secretive, it’s not going to work.”

Kirishima smiled softly, a weak shrug moving through him, “I know, thanks, man.”

Bakugou nodded, and without a word, he continued on ahead where Midoriya was yelling at them to hurry up and come so they could be seated. 

Kirishima sighed, rolling out his shoulders before following afterward.

Kirishima followed after the hostess, smiling at her gratefully when she sat the group into their own private room and left. 

“Bakugou’s paying, right?” Kaminari stage whispered to Midoriya while staring at the prices on the menu.

“Eat shit, dunce face, learn how to save up your fucking money the next time you offer to come to this fucking place!” Bakugou roared, hearing the whisper.

“I’ll be covering the bill,” Todoroki informed with a smirk on his face. Kirishima laughed, looking at the prices and indeed agreeing with Kaminari’s statement. Having a wealthy friend was very convenient at times like this.

“Hi, welcome to Eiko, I’ll be your waitress today!” a voice chirped from the entrance of the room, and Kirishima froze, he recognized that voice and face.

It was the person he had mistaken for you all those months ago.

By the smile on your face, it seemed that you recognized them all too.

“And what is your name,” Sero winked, his eyes captivated by you.

“Oh, haha, sorry, my name is y/n,” you smiled, moving the menus you held in your hand to show the silver nametag on your uniform.

“Oh, like Kirishima’s y/n,” Kaminari laughed, pointing a finger at Kirishima, not at all being as quiet as he probably thought himself to be. But it seemed that he wasn’t the only one who thought that because while Kirishima was staring at your face, embarrassingly taking you in, you followed Kaminari’s finger.

Your sight sat on the redhead in the middle whose name was Kirishima, and you straightened up in what felt like panic. 

“You’re Kirishima?” you asked quietly, your finger grasping the menus so tightly, your knuckles turned white. “Kirishima Eijirou.”

“The one and only,” Kaminari voiced for him, his arm thrown over Kirishima’s shoulder while he nodded like a scholar. “And why do you ask?”

“Shut the fuck up, dunce face.” Bakugou hissed.

Kirishima continued to stare at you, a million words running through his head, yet not a single one being translated on his tongue. You were beautiful.

What should he say?

What could he say?

Your lips pursed, and you shook your head, a smile of disbelief spreading across your face, “Unbelievable.”

“Y/n—”

“Be quiet,” you snap, your tone angry, but your eyes beyond hurt. “What can I get you guys to drink?”

Dinner wasn’t exactly a pleasant time, you came in and left faster than anyone could blink, and yet none of their drinks went empty, nor did they really have a problem. Much quicker than Kirishima would’ve liked, they were done and were soon piling out of the restaurant after Kirishima decided to leave a very, very generous tip.

“I’m going to stay until I can speak to y/n,” Kirishima said, waving off his friends who were expecting him to follow. But he couldn’t, not when he felt like the world's biggest ass for what he did to you.

“Good luck,” they all wished him well before eventually leaving, knowing better than to stick around.

So there at the outside bench, Kirishima waited.

Two hours he sat there until you emerged from the front door, your hair was no longer put back, you held your apron in your hand, and your purse on your shoulder.

“Y/n!” he called out, his feet no longer cemented into place; he strode after you.

You didn’t seem to pick up the pace, nor did you slow down. You were focused on your car that sat at the edge of the parking lot, and you ignored his calls.

It wasn’t until his hand touched your shoulder, and he appeared before you did Kirishima freeze again. Angry hot tears slid down your face, your face screwed up, your shoulders stiff.

“What do you want, Kirishima?” you spat, but there was only exhaustion in your voice, nothing bitter, nothing at all what Kirishima deserved from you.

“I want to apologize,” Kirishima whispered, his hands struggling to reach out and wipe your tears away. You were crying because of him, he did this to you. “I was a dick, I was… beyond unmanly to you, and I’m so sorry! I just let Bakugou get into my head, and I’ve never been a secure person because, well, I’m just… fuck, I don’t even know, but all I know is that you didn’t deserve this. And I like you so much, but I didn’t — I don’t know what to do?!”

Your eyes stared up at him, they were bright with tears, wounded beyond anything Kirishima could hope to fix.

“That night, you said if I didn’t trust you, but I did trust you! I’ve always trusted you—” your finger jabbed his chest— “but it was you who didn’t trust me! I get that it’s hard to not have a picture of someone you care about after a long length of time, but we were always fine for a while! It was going to happen, but while I trusted you, I didn’t trust myself, okay?! I couldn’t trust myself to see that if you were so much more handsome than me that I couldn’t be confident enough to let myself be friends with you! I constantly fuck up relationships when I have crushes on people because… I don’t know, I just do! But you were someone with no risk and the highest risk, and I wanted to be sure in my own feelings before giving you a picture of me! But… fuck, Kirishima, you didn’t trust me!”

Kirishima’s throat tightened, the tears on your face a guilty reminder that this was because of him. But how could he fix this?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his hands grabbing onto your arms just above the elbow, and his head hung by your forehead, not quite touching you, but just enough that his spiked hair teased the atoms between you. You were taller than he expected, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t deal with, no, not at all. “You’re right, I didn’t trust you, and you didn’t deserve that. I don’t think there’s anything that I can say, or do for that matter, to change your mind, and I’m sorry. I just panicked because who gets into this type of situation, how do I tell my phone friend that I have feelings for her? I was weak, and I am so fucking pathetic, and I just want to make things better. If you’ll let me be your friend again…”

He slowly looked back up at you, and you were frozen in your place, tears falling down your face still.

“I don’t think we can be friends,” you confessed, and Kirishima’s heart broke in two, his hands dropping from your arms in his embarrassment and humiliation.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry still, um… maybe I’ll see you again?” Kirishima smiled despite it all, he kept smiling despite the crack in his chest and his soul.

“You will,” you murmured, and before Kirishima could blink, your fists wrapped in his collar, and you brought him down for an ardent kiss that he was not quick to respond to. It took three seconds for him to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in, kissing you again and again and again.

It didn’t seem to matter to either one of you that you were both now kissing without a care in the world in the middle of a parking lot, because you both had your emotions exposed to the other, and you didn’t want to be friends. At least not when the man who held your heart confessed that you held his in yours. 

The two of you weren’t truly disconnected, it was just a little lost moment in your call.

[sckyie]

word count: 2.5k

genre + warnings: enemies to lovers; coworkers, office love, alcohol mentioned, swearing

pronouns used: she/her

a/n: hi hi here’s my exchange gift for @coophi! happy holidays and stay safe, i hope you like what i wrote for you! [ this was apart of @/haikyuucreations secret santa ]

You put your forehead on the table groaning at the recent news. "You'll get'em next time, Y/n," your coworker rubbed your back. You sighed louder as you heard something being placed on your desk. You shift your face towards the corner of the surface to see a coffee cup with your name scribbled on the side.

You rolled your eyes and looked up to see the new lead, Kuroo, being congratulated by everyone. "That was supposed to be my promotion," You grumbled. You stared at the coffee up and walked over to Kuroo's desk. Leaving the filled cup, you excused yourself to the bathroom.

Kuroo watched as you rejected his peace offering before leaving the office. He understood how you felt once you heard that you didn't get the promotion. Your papers were perfect, clients loved you both, but the one thing keeping you from getting the promotion was simple. Kuroo's numbers were much higher than yours and it crushed yours.

The thought of endless nights staying late to catch up became pointless. The effort in surpassing him wasn't necessary anymore. All your work, all your stressful nights, everything didn't matter to the manager and execs.

"Hmph," Kuroo seated himself and stared at your drink on his desk.

"Something wrong, Kuroo?" Your coworker peeked beside him.

"Oh nothing," He responds.

You return to your desk, side-eyeing your now superior. You took a deep breath before returning to your paperwork.

Numbers, numbers, numbers. You spent your shift calculating, writing, and fixing errors. The jumble of text on your screen began to hurt your brain for working so hard.

The day dreaded on as the anger in you fumed. It wasn't that you were mad for not getting the promotion. You were furious that out of all people it'd be Kuroo who got it. You despised his snarky, overly confident facade and his petty ways of trying to show you how great he was.

Finally, your shift comes to an end but so does Kuroo's. You two walk together to the elevators though you tried your hardest avoiding him. "Did I get your order wrong?" Kuroo smirked as he pressed the lobby button.

"I don't want your pity coffee," You muttered.

"It's not a pity coffee," He rebutted. "It was a hot chai latte."

"Haha," You mocked. "I don't even like chai."

"Then what do you like?" Kuroo smiled.

"Not you," You immediately walked out of the elevator, making your way to the parking lot.

"Tsk," He was the tiniest bit irritated by your tone but decided to try again tomorrow.

Papers, papers, papers. Endless papers for you to edit and write at home. It was torture but how else could you succeed in your career. Things were already shit with Kuroo trying to be friends with you. Nevertheless, you finished at least ten pages of reports for tomorrow's agenda.

Early morning, you arrived at the office before everyone like normal. Kuroo arrives with two coffees and a small brown bag. He walked over, placing the snack and cup on your desk without a word. He walks to his desk and begins his work without interacting.

You turn the cup to check what it was. "Café latte," You mouthed. You peeked in the small bag to see a blueberry muffin. Before you could return the drink, people began to file into the room. You rolled your eyes and sipped on the drink.

"Success," Kuroo thought to himself as he watched you snack and sip the offerings.

It became a daily thing for Kuroo to bring you drinks. Never the same one twice, but always a blueberry muffin. You gave in to his gesture and thanked him silently whenever he passed by.

Your favorite interaction however was his failed attempt in talking to you. "You come here often?" He asked as he placed your coffee on your desk.

"Considering I work here, yes," You say sarcastically.

"Wow I'm literally so stupid," Kuroo thought. Kuroo saw many opportunities to talk to you more but fell nervous every time. It was always hard for him to get close to someone new. His past relationships had left him hopeless for his own future. The toxicity from the past girls left him thinking he'd never be happy with someone. These past few years, he'd been focusing on himself.

Then you walked into his life. After being transferred to a new branch, you seemed different than any other girl he's met. Kuroo saw hope in you and believed that you could be the light of his love life. He admired your attention to detail, your determination, and well, your beauty. Kuroo saw all your greatest features yet he could never bring himself to tell you his admiration.

One day, you had already a shitty morning and didn't want to deal with anything at work. From annoying traffic to angry clients to the blisters from your heels, you wanted more than anything for the day to end.

A few upset clients later, your head began to pound and you excused yourself for an early break. Kuroo turned to see you sulk away, causing him to furrow his eyebrows.

"What's with Y/n?" He asks his desk neighbor.

"Oh, two of her clients weren't co-operating and it's getting her frustrated," She responded. "She's been having a bad day."

Kuroo looks at your desk curiously and noticed how you had removed your heels under your desk. "Be right back," Kuroo gets up from his desk and walked over to the shared kitchen area to grab some things.

You returned from your short break to be greeted with a small pile of things. Bandages for your blisters, medicine for your headache, water, and a cut-up apple. "Take it easy," You found a post-it on the water bottle. You looked at your screen to see your client queue cleared with everyone on the list as approved. Confused as ever, you make use of the mystery goods to tend to your needs.

"Attention everyone, tonight Ryu here is throwing a little work party at his apartment," Your manager announced. "It is a small goodbye party for him and congratulations to our new lead, Kuroo." You rolled your eyes at Kuroo's name and continued to snack on the apples.

Later that night, you arrived at Ryu's house, catching Kuroo's attention. "Woah," Your male coworker gasped at the sight of you. "Damn, how is she single."

"Hey calm down, Kuroo-san has a crush on her," Other teased.

"Fuck off and keep my love life out your mouth," Kuroo nudges his shoulder. Though they weren't wrong, you were stunning. Dressed to impress and you even put your hair down from your usual updo. Kuroo was left speechless, thus leaving him too anxious to tell you anything.

After one cheesy speech and a big congratulations, the drinking began. Kuroo began to get too into the moment, having one too many drinks. You, however, stayed sober the whole party. You snickered at the sight of your drunk colleagues.

Kuroo's cheeks were bright red and he walked funny. He made his way towards you and you couldn't help but laugh. This was his chance to confess. "I- I- want-" He hiccuped between words. Kuroo began to get lost in thought, forgetting he was drunk confessing. "I- want my- keys- I- need- need  to go- home."

"I don't think so," You snatch his keys from the key holder before he could. "Do you want me to take you home?" He nodded excessively as you rolled your eyes. You chat with Ryu shortly before taking Kuroo to your car.

"Kamikita Apartments," You say. You had asked Ryu as you saw no hope in getting anything out of Kuroo. He slowly fell asleep in your car as you drove through the lit city. "I hope you know, I'm only doing this because you're drunk. I still don't like you."

"Mhm," Kuroo says in his sleep. You giggled at his expression all the way to his apartment.

Kuroo rests his arm around your shoulder as you two made your way to the apartment. You unlock the door and Kuroo immediately walks to the bedroom. Once he realized you weren't behind him, he turns back. "Where'd you go?" He pouted.

"Nowhere," You followed into his room. "Where are your pajamas- Oh, here. Change while I get you water."

Kuroo obeys your order and seats himself as he waited for his water. To him, he had already confidently talked to you about how he felt. Yet in reality, he was too drunk to even comprehend the front of his shirt.

"Here," You notice the tag in the front of his shirt as he chugged the water. "Your shirt is backward."

"Help me?" He begged. You facepalm at his tone but agreed. It felt like you were taking care of a baby. Your cheeks flushed pink once you helped him take off his shirt. You stopped to admire his face as you adjusted the middle of his sleep shirt. His hands move to rest on your hips. "It's so cold. Thank you for helping me change. Oh, and Y/n?"

"Y-yes?" You stuttered at his large hands.

"I have something to tell you," His voice started to sound sleepy. "I love you." Your eyes widen and you couldn't show him your shy expression.

"Tell me that again when you're sober," You move his hands away from you. Making your way to the light switch, you looked at the sad Kuroo. "I'll sleep in the living room. Just- go to bed."

Thankfully you had a change of clothes in your trunk that you used to sleep in. You got ready for bed, chuckling at the sounds of Kuroo snoring next door to the bathroom.

You laid silently on the couch staring at the ceiling. Those three words, you never thought you'd hear them from him of all people. It'd been years since your last break up, so you'd always been so closed off when it came to men. After getting heartbroken, you didn't think another man could love you. Kuroo was no exception. Sure he was handsome but you were adamant about staying single for the longest.

The thought of Kuroo in your life lingered up until the morning. He had woken up before you and found himself with a pounding headache. He made his way to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. As he drank his water, he spit-sprayed the water out of his mouth when he spots you sleeping. He began to cough aggressively before collecting himself. "Wha- what is she doing here?!" He whispered.

You woke up to the sound of your dying colleague, rubbing your eyes to the bright room. Kuroo walked over to you as you sat up, pulling the blanket to your lap. "Good morning," You yawned. "How's the hangover?"

"What are you doing here?" Kuroo panicked.

"You were shit-faced. This was the one thing I could do for repaying you for the coffees," You say.

"Did I do- did I say anything stupid?" He hides his face in his hands.

"You told me something," You began to fiddle with your thumbs. "I don't know if you meant it or not, but you told me you loved me."

"I...did?" Kuroo slowly moves his hands to look at you. Your face was red and you were playing with your sleeves now.

"Well, did you mean it?" You ask. "If you didn't..."

Kuroo reached over and pulled your chin up with his index knuckle and thumb. "I meant it," He says. "I really did."

Your face grew warmer at his words. "Why?" You sighed. "I'm so mean to you."

"Because," Kuroo moves his hand away to stare at his lap. "I love your smile. I love the way you work. I love how determined you are. The way you sign your papers with a tiny heart. The way you laugh at the smallest things. And...I know you might hate my guts but ever since I saw you, I admired you. You make so many people smile and bring happiness to the room. I thought I'd been on your shit list but I'm glad you took care of me- See that's another thing, you put yourself after everyone else. That's why I gave you bandaids, buy you coffee, finished your quotas for you. I just think you deserve better than what you have right now. And I'm so impressed by you-"

You got annoyed by his rambling and decided to grab his cheeks. You interrupted his words by crashing your lips into his. "You literally talk so much," You pulled away. "Can I talk now?"

Kuroo was stunned at the fact that you just kissed him to shut him up. "You just- kissed-" You pressed your lips on his again to keep him quiet. He deepened the kiss before you could pull away. "You can talk." He smiled as he pulled away.

"Okay," You move from his face. "I wanted to say, you weren't on my shit list or whatever. I was upset I didn't get the promotion and I didn't like your attitude. But, getting to know you I learnt how different you really are. Especially when you’re drunk, it's funny. Besides that, I didn't know how you felt, I didn't notice all the things you've done for me."

Kuroo placed his palm on yours, carefully comparing the size of it to yours. "I didn't think I could fall in love with someone who didn't give me the time of day," He says. You moved your fingers to trace his.

"How are you so sure that you love me?" You laced your fingers with Kuroo's.

"That's the thing, I'm not sure," Kuroo looked down at his lap. "I did all those things just to make your days easier. I thought all the small gestures I did, wouldn't matter to you. That they were just tedious things that bothered you. To be honest, I'm afraid of letting someone into my heart. I was drunk when I told you and I meant it but I want to know for sure that I'm in love with you before anything."

"Do you want to find out?" You say softly.

"Only if you'd let me," Kuroo looked up to see you smiling at him. You nodded and leaned in for another kiss. "Man if only your kisses made this hangover go away."

You rolled your eyes and pressed your lips against his once more. The feeling of his hands move to your waist caused the heat in your face to return. Kuroo pulls you to straddle his lap as he deepened the kiss. Your hands rest on his shoulders while he rubbed your sides.

"I promise to make you the happiest woman in the world," He whispered as he pulled away.

"Do I still get morning coffee?" You giggled.

"And your blueberry muffin," Kuroo chuckled. You smiled before pecking his lips. You rest your head on the crook of his neck as he rubbed your back. "I won't disappoint you."

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @just-a-siiimp @d0llpie @elianetsantana

[yandere-daydreams]

A Yandere!Dazai/Reader piece for the lovely @ramannnn​. It’s been a very Dazai-centric few days, but... I think it fits the theme well, considering how *controlling* I got to make him, here. I can only hope everyone else is having as much fun as he is, honestly. 

TW: Dub-Con, Explicit Material, Groping/Rough Sex, Gun Violence, Blood, Death, and Slight Emotional/Physical Abuse. 

Word Count: 5.2k

Dazai still wasn’t used to it, he guessed.

Relationships were a foreign concept to him, intimacy as alien as an unknown creature and affection just as strange. Hell, gestures as simple as holding hands made him flinch and pull back, even when he knew it was only you, the girlfriend who could main him about as brutally as a house-cat. It’d taken him two months to get used to cuddling, another three weeks to actually initiate a session, and he still had to think over his actions strategically while going in for a kiss, if only to keep from embarrassing himself. You were patient with him, sickeningly so, smiling and letting it go whenever he failed to reciprocate, always asking before trying something new. You didn’t have to be told that this was his first relationship, his first real relationship, and you didn’t make him say it. It was something Dazai loved about you, why he’d bothered with making himself seem vulnerable in the first place.

The feelings were new, too. You could still make his heart skip a beat by looking at him the right way, the air around you always too thin, his head in a constant state of spinning, regardless of how composed he presented himself as. It was embarrassing, at first, a lovesick spell more fitting of someone Atsushi’s age than his own, but you were great about that, too. Dazai was neglected when it came to love, simultaneously chasing after your approval and refusing to accept it, but you nursed him on small displays and gentle touches until he could stomach entire dates. He wondered if you knew you were doing it, sometimes, if you’d been conscious of the effect you had on him. Stuck on the thought, Dazai let his attention stray from the case-file in front of him, thankful he’d taken it down to Uzumaki before starting.

It would’ve been a pain to walk down from the Agency every time he thought of you, considering how often his paranoia tended to flare up. Kunikida never seemed pleased by the honest reasons behind his absence, either.

He relaxed as soon as he found you, helping a customer at the end of the cafe’s bar. It was only natural that you worked so close to him, managing to infiltrate your way into the fringes of Dazai’s life. He liked being able to find you, too, even if he was rarely in the office most days. Seeing you was like a tranquilizer to him, a narcotic, Dazai getting… twitchy whenever you weren’t around. Still, he couldn’t help but wince when he got a better look at the person you were chatting with, the conversation having gone on too long for you to only be taking his order. The jealousy was fresh every time he felt it, restored and more powerful than any time before, blunt nails soon tearing through the thin folder as he watched you close your eyes and laugh at something the man said.

You shouldn’t be doing that. He didn’t like it when you did that.

Without a hint of hesitation, he pushed himself up, not thinking as he moved towards you. Your attention from the interaction at hand didn’t waver, letting Dazai approach without notice, his arms wrapping around your waist and earning a small yelp, quickly covered up by a breathy giggle. Reflexively, you leaned into him, not looking away from the customer. You two had gone through this too many times for that.

“I’m sorry… he can be clingy sometimes,” You said, the remark equal parts an excuse and a tease. He felt you make a weak attempt to pry him off, an elbow jabbing at his rib cage, but Dazai only buried his head in the crook of your neck, letting his teeth graze over your skin as you sighed, exasperated. “Will that be all, sir? I can get you something on the house for the interruption.”

Dazai perked up just enough to stare at your customer through his bangs, narrowing his eyes just enough to get his point across. Whether or not he noticed, Dazai wasn’t sure, but the man squirmed nervously, gaze dropping to the floor as he fiddled with the lid of his cup, the disposable kind. Good. It meant the bastard wouldn’t be staying very long. “I… I should be going,” He mumbled, half-heartedly throwing a few bills on the countertop. “See you tomorrow, (Y/n).”

He didn’t speak until the man had gotten up, forgetting his drink as he headed towards the door. Even then, Dazai found a tender spot on your neck and bit down before you realized what he was doing, his teeth managing to sink in enough to leave a mark, only separating when you shoved him back. You were scowling when you turned to face him, barely suppressing a grin, trying to look hurt as you rubbed at the forming bruise. “You a real creep, you know that? I’m going to get fired one of these days, and all because you keep harassing my regulars.”

“Wonderful,” Dazai replied, pausing to peck at your lips. It was a hasty kiss, but there would be more later. He’d make sure of that. “You can be my adorable little housewife, and I’ll be the loving husband you brag about ever time you see your old coworkers. That sounds dreamy, doesn’t it?” He sighed loudly, overdramatically, closing his eyes and slumping against your chest. “Why don’t you quit now, sooner than later? We’ll get married this afternoon, I’ll invite Chuuya to the ceremony, and you’ll be a widow by the time the sun rises! It’s better not to draw these things out.”

“Oh, no, you’re not allowed to die after you trick me into marrying you. Chuuya or no Chuuya.” It was tentative, but soon enough, you were carding through his hair, feeding into his neediness. “We’re still on for tonight, right?”

Dazai pursed his lips, thinking before answering. “Tomorrow. The Agency’s trying to drain me dry, this week. Will dinner and a movie be enough to buy your forgiveness?”

You took the news with a sober nod, but he didn’t miss the heat that rose to your cheeks, the red tint you suddenly couldn’t hide. “I want… something else, too,” You admitted, the confession not needing an explanation. Your ‘purity’, for lack of a better way to put it, was something Dazai was well aware of, and it made sense. You were as innocent as they came, doe-eyed and naive, even if you tried to hide it. Just asking to be defiled, really. He couldn’t help himself, his hold on you tightening ever-so-slightly, clueing you in much too soon. “You’re a pervert.” With a huff, you crossed your arms, wedging a barrier between you and the offending aggressor, despite said aggressor’s complaints. “Don’t make me regret it, I’m doing this because I love you. I don’t want it to turn out like--”

“It won’t.” He was quick to reassure you, knowing just the right way to cup your cheek, straightening his back and meeting your eyes in a way that always made you more agreeable. This time was no exception, a shy simper returning as you melted into the support. “And you won’t regret it, either. I promise.”

There was a short silence, his words rolling over in your head. Your answer was a painstakingly slow one, but the bright, beaming smile that accompanied the wait more than worth it.

“I trust you, Dazai.”

~

Yuri. That was what the man went by. Dazai hadn’t bothered with a surname.

A warehouse worker, night-shift. He’d stop by Uzumaki before every shift for a black coffee, and he’d always ask for you, leaving without making a purchase if he couldn’t get his favorite barista. He didn’t have friends, his family lived overseas, and from what Dazai could tell, he was a coward no one would miss when he finally bit the bullet. If anything, Dazai was doing the leech a favor. He was doing you a favor.

The fewer inconveniences you had, the better.

The less competition he had, the better.

‘Yuri’ was already trembling by the time Dazai’s pistol had been drawn, the barrel forced into his mouth when he tried to scream. It hadn’t done much to muffle the sound, but the sharp click of the weapon’s safety switching off had his breath hitching, any sounds turning into high-pitched squeaks and cries when he realized exactly what kind of situation this was. Dazai wasn’t sure how he hadn’t caught on earlier. Hidden between packed-together buildings, the sky dark and the city fast asleep… not much good can come under those conditions, but luckily, ‘good’ was the last thing Dazai had in mind.

“I don’t want to kill you.” Some of the tensions in Yuri’s shoulders dissolved, a mistake quickly corrected by a tap of the front-sight against the roof of his mouth, Dazai’s finger sliding onto the trigger. “It doesn’t matter to me, whether you live or die. I’d let you go, if I had a choice. It’s less clean-up.”

Yuri tensed up, glancing at Dazai’s hand, at the grip of the Desert Eagle currently half-way down his throat. As if to ask what the catch was. 

He obliged swiftly.

“It doesn’t matter to me, but I don’t like people touching things that don’t belong to them,” He explained, not bothering to keep the venom out of his voice. “And you’ve been doing just that, haven’t you? Coming into a place you don’t belong, talking to someone who’s not yours, and acting like you have the right to step onto someone else’s territory. It’s disgusting. I should’ve ended your pathetic life months ago. You’re just lucky I’m so nice.”

In a confident, practiced movement, he brought the Desert Eagle out of Yuri’s mouth, letting the worn metal scrape against his lips, tearing at the thin skin. Before Yuri could move, the muzzle was shoved into his solar plexus, bruising the underside of his ribs. “Talk,” Dazai commanded, shoving his free hand into his coat’s pocket. “Make me believe you won’t fuck-up again.”

Opening his mouth, Yuri stuttered incoherently, swallowing and mumbling and getting on Dazai’s nerves before spitting out something intelligent. “I… I’m sorry! (Y/n) is nice, we’re friends, I didn’t know she had a boyfriend!”

“You’re friends, or you didn’t know she was taken?” Dazai paused, raising an eyebrow. “I’d keep my story straight, if I were you. Considering the stakes and all.”

“I’m sorry!” He was yelling, now, eyes shut and voice shaking. There was an attempt to grab the handgun, but Dazai was able to discharge his attempts at bravery with a sharp thrust and a sigh, the ordeal turning out to be much duller than Dazai thought it would be. “I won’t go near her, I swear! Just… just let me go, and you’ll never see me again. I won’t even think about your girl. You two can have your weird-ass romance, I won’t be a problem!”

Dazai smiled, unable to stop himself. “You’re not a negotiator, are you, Yuri?”

Yuri only shook his head, daring to open his eyes, almost relieved at the slight softness in Dazai’s tone. That might’ve been what did it. He was moving before he realized it, slamming the grip into Yuri cheek with the force of a grown man’s weight, the suddenness and the power behind the blow knocking him to the ground, Yuri hardly even tried to push himself up. He made the mistake of looking back at Dazai, of wasting those precious seconds, but their eyes never met. His silencer muffled the gunshots, muted ticks the only sound to signal the end of Yuri’s life. There wasn’t a scream, no fighting or struggling or pleading, just a labored breath and a splatter of blood on Dazai’s shoes.

Still, that didn’t stop Dazai from emptying the rest of his magazine into Yuri’s head. If only to save such a pitiful creature the pain of having to go on for another hour.

~

You didn’t think you’d ever been this nervous before.

Calming down was a fruitless effort. You’d tried to tell yourself that you were an adult, that Dazai loved you and didn’t care, but… just the thought had you buzzing. It was a palpable anxiety, something that had you walking unevenly and dropping mugs while you cleaned them and laughing when anyone said anything because everything was funny. Your coworkers took notice, but they were dissuaded with an excuse and a few comments about an ‘off-mood’, and luckily, your regulars hadn’t been around enough lately to witness your odd behavior.

They hadn’t been around at all lately, really. You made a mental note of that. You’d have to check in on them, soon, if you remembered to. It was hard not to worry, considering how many frequent visitors had disappeared so abruptly, recently.

Still, Dazai was a source of comfort. You were a timid person, closed-off despite how badly you tried not to be, but you really did love Dazai. He was persistent, consistent, and just as unused to affection as you were, albeit on the opposite side of the spectrum. That might’ve been why you trusted him so much. He was like you, in a way, but so different at the same time. Just as closed-off, but with all the confidence you lacked.

Without thinking, you let your mouth fall open, mumbling the first thing that came to mind. “Thank you.”

Dazai hummed as he glanced over his shoulder, sending you a questioning look as he unlocked the entrance to his flat. It took him a second to understand, but you didn’t have the nerve to explain yourself, letting Dazai come to his own conclusion. It must’ve been a good one, though, judging by the way he pulled you a little closer as the door fell open, kissing your temple and tugging you through the threshold. “Don’t thank me yet,” He chuckled, softly. “We’re just getting to the fun part.”

You didn’t have time to ask what he meant. As soon as you’d stepped into his apartment, his mouth was on yours, the kiss as overeager as it was underplanned. No attempt was made to ease you into it, no trace of reluctance or consideration, only his arms wrapping around your midriff and your back hitting the wall, crashing into it as he found the first available surface to pin you to. Keeping up with him was a futile effort, but you tried anyway, pushing your lips against his and nipping at the tip of his tongue playfully when he tried to deepen the gesture. You could feel it as he smirked, pulling away and focusing his kisses on your jaw, hands falling to your thighs and lifting you off the ground without a trace of effort. It was easy to forget how strong he was, but as Dazai slotted himself against you, far closer than you’d ever let anyone else get, it slipped your mind to tease him about it, too.

Instead, you let out a cracked laugh, one that turned into a small whimper as his teeth brushed against your jugular. “It… this feels kinda sudden, doesn’t it?”

“Not at all,” He said, before choosing a spot and biting. This wasn’t your first hickey, this wasn’t the first hickey he’d given you, but this was the first time Dazai’d been so violent about it, sucking viciously until a purple, bruised mark covered the area. Hot, open-mouthed kisses traveled downward, each a little more primal than the last, only pausing when he hit the unwelcoming fabric of your shirt, the annoyance eliciting something near a growl. He dropped you in a heartbeat, leaving you to wrap your legs around his waist and cling to him as he all-but tore at the offending clothing, not seeming to care what he ripped. “You wanted this, too. It’s a natural progression.”

A natural progression. That’s what it was, a natural progression.

This was the next step.

So, you didn’t complain as your shirt fell away, his coat dropping to the floor not long after. Your whimpers and yelps turned to low, muffled moans as he went on, the pain fading into a light sting. You pulled at his collar, too, beginning to undo the first button with one hand while the other remained uselessly draped over his shoulders, but if Dazai noticed your work, he didn’t see it necessary to show it. He occupied himself with pushing up your skirt, letting it pool around your hips as he groped at whatever he could reach, only growing more aggressive as you writhed against him. It was only as he slipped a finger under the edge of your panties that you spoke up.

“Bed.” Your voice cracked, the whisper coming out helplessly. “Please, Dazai.”

Again, he didn’t waste time. You were pulled wall from the wall one moment and thrown onto a plush surface the next, the terrain suddenly strange, unfamiliar. You couldn’t help but freeze-up, but Dazai wasn’t hit by the same affliction, kneeling between your legs and continuing where he’d left off. Your panties were discarded in a matter of seconds, leaving you partially dressed and unprepared when thin fingers started to run over the length of your slit, his thumb hardly making contact with your clit, testing the waters. He slid two digits in as soon as he decided your wet enough, pausing for a moment.

“You’ve touched yourself, haven’t you?” The question is punctuated by a curl, his fingertips rubbing against slick walls. The stretch made you want to whine, but you bit your lip instead, nodding as he scissored you open. You balled your fists around the sheets, closing your eyes as Dazai moved lower. “Naughty girl. You won’t be allowed to do that, anymore.”

Before you could wonder what he was doing, his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking just harshly enough to have you grinding against his face. Your thighs went stiff, then twitched, attempting to clench around Dazai’s head, but he held them open easily, his other arm too busy finger-fucking you to do much else. You almost got used to it, almost, but the moment Dazai’s fingers hit something spongy and soft, your composure was done-for. Pressure pressed down on your chest, the air choking you, but Dazai never let-up, never relaxing, not until you were clenching and squealing, slicking building up and flowing over his fingers, Dazai only slowing down to pull out.

You thought he would kiss you, or smile, or say something.

Instead, he began to undress.

You watch in anticipation as a layer fell to the floor, then another, a sensation between excitement and dread forming a tight ball in your throat. This wasn’t how you pictured it happening. This wasn’t how you wanted it to happen. It was supposed to be more… romantic, less passionate and more loving. You thought it’d feel more loving. This wasn’t how you pictured it, but you couldn’t make yourself say something.

So, you laid back and shut your eyes again. You hoped he would notice.

The kiss came too late, but you accepted it nonetheless, running your hands through his hair as his lips brushed against yours. It was conciliatory, if anything, simultaneously more apologetic than it should've been but less than it needed to be, for whatever reason. “Don’t worry,” He reassured, lining himself up with your entrance. “I’ll be gentle.”

But he wasn’t. As soon as he was inside you, all pretenses of self-control abandoned him, Dazai bucking into your wildly and forcefully. The ache was worse, eliciting something near a sob, but it was all you could do to hold onto him and let it happen. His hips rolled against yours without any regard for the way his cock couldn’t fit inside of you, determined to go deeper, faster, harder with every movement. You found yourself burying your face in his chest unconsciously, grabbing anything you could reach, just trying to find a center before Dazai ripped you away from it, again. Distantly, you could hear the bed creaking, wet sounds echoing off the walls, but his voice was close enough to overtake it all.

“Mine, mine,” He repeated, the single word turning into a mantra. The head of his cock pushes against your cervix, Dazai intent on fitting you to his shape or tearing you open in the process. “None of them can have you. You don’t belong to anyone else.”

You tried to speak, but the sound was cracked, hollow. “I don’t--”

“None of them can have you.” He pushed himself away from you, fucking into your with twice the strength and half the consideration. Still, a coil forms in the pit of your stomach, something tense and hazy taking root in your mind and refusing to leave. Something you didn’t know if you liked. “Say it. You belong to me.”

You obeyed. You weren’t sure what would happen if you didn’t. “I-I only… I only belong to you!”

Your orgasm was less earned and more torn from you, crashing down with the same delicacy of the man who’d caused it. It was suffocating, euphoric, the world going white as you forgot how to inhale, Dazai’s mouth slotting itself against yours. So enraptured in holding you, he hardly remembered to pull out, your cunt clamping down on him like a vice. Still, you felt it as cum splattered across your thighs, warm and sticky, as repulsive as it was disgustingly comforting.

Neither of you said anything, heavy pants and enduring whines monopolizing the conversation. But, after a long minute, Dazai’s attention re-focused, his eyes meeting yours and a small grin spreading across his features. His hand came up to cup your cheek and willingly, you melted into it, relaxing as he wiped the stray tears from your skin.

You only smiled back, wondering when you’d started crying.

~

“I’m just worried about you.”

You could’ve groaned at the familiar sentiment, hardly gathering the energy to glance up from the order you were punching into the register. Lucy was a new recruit, still green around the edges and not quite a skilled communicator, but you could appreciate her for what she was… most days. It was just the two of you on staff, at the moment, only a handful of customers in the cafe at such an ungodly time in the morning, leaving her with plenty of time to voice her oh-so-persistent concerns. It was sweet, honestly, a newer girl becoming so protective of her coworkers so quickly, and you couldn’t help but feel the same way, even if the age gap between you two was barely two years long. She wanted the best for you, and you for her.

So, you let her go on.

“Osamu’s not a nice guy.” Her voice was impassioned, just as genuine as the muffled curses she let out as a few drops of steamed milk spilled over the side of the cappuccino she was working on. “You should hear the stories Atsushi tells about him, they’re not… they’re not good. It’s hard to listen, sometimes. Especially when it’s so easy to tell he’s got the poor boy wrapped around his finger.”

“I’d hate to say it, but ‘they’re not good’ isn’t exactly compelling evidence,” You reasoned, biting the inside of your cheek. Your legs were still sore, your back aching, but you ignored the pain. That was normal, wasn’t it? For the first time, at least. “He’s a hard man to warm up to. It took me a while, too, but he’s really not as bad as he seems. Playful, but nice. With me, at least.”

Lucy sighed, shaking her head. “It’s the way he looks at you. I don’t like it,” She explained, a little too bluntly for the comment not to irk you. “Sometimes he’ll just sit and stare at you, and it’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking. He’s always asking the other girls which regulars you’re talking to, or for a copy of your schedule, and he gets so rude when we refuse. It’s not playful, it’s obsessive. Like he doesn’t trust you.”

You hoped she didn’t notice the way you frowned at her last comment. “He… he asks about my regulars?”

“Oh, all the time.” The words were too tired to be rehearsed. Not angry, annoyed. Like she was used to it. “A few of us slip up, occasionally, but nobody ever tells him anything. That doesn’t stop him from tryin’, though, nearly every time you’re not working. He tries to say it’s for the Agency, like half our customers aren’t detectives.”

Now, that got you to pause, your fingers slipping as you tried to focus on the task at hand. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that. Please let me know if he does it again.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” She mumbled, stopping to wave her free hand in some abstract, dismissive gesture. “Trust me. Or talk to him, do something. I just don’t want to see you cry over someone like him.”

It was hard not to smile, to thank her, even if you weren’t sure how you felt just yet. It would’ve been a lie to say you’d never had your doubts, but hearing someone else voice them was an entirely new experience, one you couldn’t say you were used to. You wanted to say that, you wanted to tell Lucy how much you appreciated her, you wanted to ask if there were supposed to be bruises on your hips, but as soon as the words made it to your tongue, they were swallowed back down, your mouth refusing to let them escape. It felt wrong, but staying quiet felt terrible.

You did the best you could, considering.

“You don’t have to answer, but…” You trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it. “Do the people you love ever start to scare you?”

For a second, she didn’t respond. She pursed her lips, something between surprise and concern coming across her expression, both emotions disappearing in an instant. A reply came eventually, tender and reassuring, but you had your answer the moment she failed to meet your eyes.

You needed to talk to Dazai.

~

Dumbfounded didn’t seem like the right word.

Shock would’ve been better, maybe. Dazai didn’t know how to react, flinching and laughing half-heartedly, the two acts mixing into something painful to see. He only grew more sure of your discomfort as you looked away, keeping your eyes on his walls or his rug or anything but the man who owned them, despite failing to pull away as he moved a little closer, closing the space between you. It wasn’t hard, the furniture in Dazai’s apartment as sparse as it was scattered, the loveseat no exclusion to his rule. He still hadn’t adjusted to having guests, even with all the time you’d spent together.

“Could… could you run that by me again?” He asked, the question more a whisper than a demand. “I don’t think I understand.”

“I just think it would be a good idea if we… took a break.” You were nothing short of meek, defenseless, curling into yourself as you spoke. “You haven’t been acting like yourself, lately, and everyone seems so worried about me. I don’t really think--”

“It’s those girls, isn’t it?” Dazai didn’t try to ease you into it, he couldn’t ease you into it, he was too angry to ease himself into it. That what it was, anger. Dark, ugly anger, potent enough to make him pull you closer, a hand on your knee and the other around your hips, refusing to budge when you nudged at his arm. “I knew they were against me, against us. You can’t trust anything they say, especially if it’s about me. They don’t want you to be happy--”

You cut him off abruptly, catching Dazai off-guard. Even if your actions didn’t reflect your violent tone. “They don’t want me to be with someone who can’t stand making me happy,” You retorted, digging your nails into his arm, this attempt to distance him more sincere than the last. “You don’t have to pretend you care about me, anymore, I get it. I’m some… thing, to you, that’s why you’re always checking in on me, why you’re always acting like I can’t handle myself. It’s fine, or, it was fine, I mean.” You sighed, shaking your head. Confliction wasn’t a good look for you, Dazai realized. He didn’t like that look on you. “I don’t want to do this anymore. You got my virginity, you win. I just want to go home, Dazai.”

He was silent, for a moment, as motionless as he was stiff. “You can’t do that.”

“I don’t care.” This time, you tried to get up, to pull yourself away from him, only gritting your teeth when he dragged you back down. “Let me go. I’ll call the police, if I have to.”

“And I’ll break your fingers before you can find a phone.”

You snapped around, but you didn’t have time to respond, not before you were thrown against the couch-cushions, Dazai straddling you reflexively, acting on instinct. He didn’t want to lose you, he couldn’t lose you, not after how far you’d come, how beautifully you’d opened up for him. You fought back, weak and misguided, but Dazai only had to shift his weight onto your diaphragm to stifle your rebellion, the hands soon wrapped around your neck more of a flourish than a safety-measure. You tried to grab at his wrists, but the resistance wasn’t forceful.

Still, Dazai tightened his hold, pressing up into the bottom of your chin. If only to hear that whimper he doubted you show him willingly, anytime soon.

“I thought this might happen. Chuuya used to call me crazy for planning ahead, but this always happens.” His laugh was genuine, this time, light and airy and genuine. Dazai could feel you go still under him, your stare burning holes through his skin, but he didn’t care. What you were feeling was secondary, as long as you were directing those feelings towards him. “People get inside your head, and they turn you against me. It doesn’t matter how many parasites I get rid of, there’s always a dozen there to take their place. You know how annoying that is, don’t you?”

This time, you were the speechless one, swallowing thickly before answering. “You’re insane--”

“There’s only one thing left to do, when keeping the bugs away doesn’t seem to help.” The smile that spread across his lips must’ve been wicked, because you began to struggle once again, kicking and thrashing and fighting, but Dazai was far from caring. He bent down slowly, letting you bite at his lips, not caring when blood was drawn. The metallic taste spread across your lips as he kissed you, only making him all the more keen to remind you why you belong to him, in the first place.

“I’ll just have to keep you away from all those bad influences, won’t I?”

[mikeisthricedeceased]

You’re My Home

Catfish x OC

Part 1: Winds Change

Word Count: ~1.9k

Part 2  Part 3

A/N: This is an idea I’ve had for a bit, and it’s been a little easier to actually type out than the Mando fic I’ve been working on. It’s probably because I’m planning for this to be some sappy, smutty fun while the Mando fic is a bit more involved.

Edit: replaced some Spanish lines because I’m nowhere near fluent and have no way of knowing how well they actually translate

Summary: Frankie has had a rough year since the whole heist shit show. It’s been one bad thing after another, leaving him all alone in a dingy apartment and steadily slipping back into old habits. He’s more than a little surprised when a pretty stranger approaches him at a bar and coaxes him into having an actual conversation. Nita guides him into a whole new world that might be just what he needs.

(The last sentence of the summary is more of a hint to the series as a whole.)

~*~*~*~

Frankie sat alone at the bar, nursing his third beer of the night. He could’ve been drinking at his place for cheaper, but the empty apartment just served as a reminder of how alone he’d become in the past year. He’d been able to meet up with the guys a few times since the divorce, but they all had lives. Pope was always traveling to see Yovanna. Will and Benny had each other, even with how often they butted heads. He just had himself, and the few days that he got to spend with little Isabella. He and his ex technically had shared custody, but she kept their daughter most days, afraid of what could happen since he clearly still clung to old habits. He couldn’t really fault her for that, as much as it tore him apart.

He was trying. He really was. But, with all that had happened, it was just so easy to find himself sliding back into shit. And going out to drink on his own so he wouldn’t have to sit in an empty apartment where most of the boxes still sat unpacked because it wasn’t home didn’t come close to his worst night, but fuck, was it sad.

He pulled his hat off and dropped it onto the bar top, running his fingers through his too-long hair. He knew he looked just as much the mess that he felt.

~*~*~*~

“Oh, Boss.”

Nita raised an eyebrow, gaze flicking across the table. “Oh, Ryan,” she said, mimicking his sing-song tone.

He smirked, gesturing toward the bar. “You’re staring.”

“And?” she asked.

He scrunched his nose. “Little rough around the edges, don’t you think?”

Tiff nudged him with an elbow. “Careful, bucko, she’s paying for our drinks.”

Nita leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms with a small smile. “You should listen to her, pretty boy. You wanna insult my taste, you can buy your own shots.”

He held up his hands. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Just trying to bring you back to the table.”

She hummed, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Honest,” he insisted, a grin breaking through.

“You couldn’t kiss ass to save your life, could you?”

Tiff snorted at that and Ryan sighed, clasping his hands behind his head.

“I wouldn’t have the job you gave me if I could, Boss,” he said, giving a quick wink.

Nita rolled her eyes. “Switches exist. You can just go ask Jorge or Monique,” she waved a hand toward the small group of their coworkers on the dance floor. “At least they don’t insult their employer.” She jabbed a finger at him “And fair warning, I am wearing a belt that I’m not afraid to use.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

She slid off of her chair, straightening her shirt before grabbing her glass.

“Where are you going?” asked Tiff.

Nita held up what was left of her bushwacker. “Grabbing another one of these,” she said. A quick glance at the figure at the bar and she smiled back at Tiff. “And testing my luck.”

~*~*~*~

She appeared next to him, a hand on the back of the stool beside him.

“Hey, is it okay if I sit here?”

He looked over at her. A soft smile and warm eyes greeted him. “Yeah, it’s fine,” he told her, looking back down at his beer.

“Thanks.”

She set an almost empty glass on the bar and slid onto the seat.

The bartender came over immediately, a broad smile on his face. “Hey, boss. Need another one?” He tapped near her glass.

She nodded and jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “And I think los idiotas in the back need another round, if you don’t mind.”

He pointed to her and grinned. “Claro.”

“Gracias, señor.”

Frankie glanced over at the woman beside him as she rested her elbows on the bar and looked up at the lone tv on the wall.

Her eyes flicked to him and he had the decency to feel embarrassed about being caught, face warming.

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat a bit, offering a polite, if awkward, smile.

“Hi,” she said softly, gaze now fixed on him.

He sat up a little and met her eyes. “Hey.”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke again. “I’m sorry if this is too forward, but I really just came over here to talk to you,” she told him, lips pulling into a small smile.

His brows shot up. “Oh.”

The bartender breezed past, smoothly placing a new bushwacker in front of Nita before lifting a tray laden with tequila shots and small bowls of lime wedges.

“Just ‘oh’?” she asked, eyes alive with amusement.

Frankie found himself smiling back at her, even as he looked down sheepishly. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting that.”

She shrugged, stirring the chocolate syrup in her drink around. “I do like being unpredictable sometimes. Keeps things fun.”

He turned toward her a little more. “Does it? Probably makes planning a little hard.”

She wagged a finger. “That’s why I said sometimes. I have responsibilities that require forethought on occasion.”

“Like owning a bar?” he asked, gesturing around them.

She laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t, actually. This just happens to be one of my go-to places to bring out-of-towners and colleagues who want to get tipsy on my dime. Lorenzo there has seen me drag a few of my friends outside with the help of a bouncer,” she said, grinning at the bartender.

“¿Los idiotas?” Frankie asked, nodding to the group in the back.

Nita smiled into her drink. “A few of them, yeah.” She took a sip and set the glass down, turning in her seat a bit to look at them. “I’ll probably be doing that again tonight.”

“Someone has to make sure everyone gets home alright,” he reasoned.

She nodded in agreement, focusing back on him. “It’s honest work.”

He almost wanted her to stop looking at him like that. So warm, so inviting. It didn’t feel like the sort of thing that should be happening to him, especially with how life had been treating him recently. He couldn’t believe that he was actually managing to hold a conversation either. He’d been communicating almost exclusively through grunts and monosyllabic words for the past few months.

But, sitting there with her eyes on him, it just made the words a little easier.

“So, what do you do, if you don’t own a bar?” he asked before taking a sip of his beer.

She shifted, eyes sliding to her friends in the back again. “I own a few clubs. One of them is local, that’s where all of them work. There are a few more spread out across the States. I also have a business with an old friend of mine in New York.”

He nodded, eyes dancing over her face as she spoke. “A pretty successful business woman, then?”

She smiled. “Something like that. Being your own boss has its pros and cons.” She lightly bumped his arm with the back of her hand. “What about you?”

It felt like his chest was going to burst with that small touch. It finally clicked that this woman was really, honest to God flirting with him, and he might’ve been losing his mind about it.

“I’m a pilot. Been working some odd jobs recently, though, waiting for my recertification to go through.” He tried not to wince as he thought about it. “Some old buddies of mine have an MMA gig that I help out with sometimes. Adds a little bit of excitement to my weeknights.”

“Sounds like it would,” she said, a hint of a laugh in her voice. “They have some amateur kickboxing tournaments at the gym my business partner’s husband works at. Always a fun time.” She swirled the straw in her drink absently. “Do you fly commercially?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah. Mostly private stuff. Helicopter tours or cargo transport.” 

“Ah, a chopper guy,” she said, pressing her lips together to hide a grin as she nodded.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “What? Do I seem like the kind of guy who wears a suit everyday?”

She bit the inside of her cheek lightly and ran a finger through the condensation on her glass. “You just seem like the kind of guy who’d look really good in one,” she said, tilting her head at him.

He blinked at her, mind going a little blank. He looked down, grinning like an idiot as he picked at the label on his beer. “I don’t— I don’t know about that.”

She waved a hand, her broad smile making his face hot. “Oh, you’d probably look great in all kinds of stuff. Gotta love a uniform.” She studied him as she lifted her drink. “You’d make a good cowboy, too.”

He let out a surprised laugh, a little louder than he’d meant to. “A cowboy?”

She sipped her drink, humming affirmatively, and gestured at his head as she narrowed her eyes. “I’m picturing the hat. It works for you.”

They just laughed for a moment, gazing at each other. At some point in the conversation, they’d both fully turned, each of them resting a single elbow on the bar as they faced one another.

Frankie sighed, lips still turned up in a smirk. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. In the meantime,” he grabbed his old ball cap off the bar and slipped it on, “I think I’ll stick with this.”

“That’s a good look, too,” she said, smiling softly with her chin in her palm.

“You think so?”

“It’s definitely working for me.”

He bit his lip. “Y’know, I feel like an ass, sitting here and getting compliments from a beautiful woman without coming up with a way to return them that won’t embarrass the shit out of me.”

She dropped the hand she’d been leaning on, letting the tips of her fingers brush where his elbow rested on the bar. “I think that one was pretty good.”

It took everything in him not to look down at her hand. “I’ll take your word for it.”

A hand appeared at her shoulder and they both turned to face the newcomer.

Tiff looked between them apologetically. “Sorry,” she said before directing a frown at Nita. “Matt’s had about six too many shots and he’s gonna break his neck trying to backflip off the stage.”

Nita gave a long-suffering sigh, pinching the space between her brows. “And that means that Ryan is two shots behind him and everyone needs to be taken home before more chaos starts.” She shook her head and set her glass back on the bar, gaze lingering on the clear condensation ring it had left on her jeans. “I’ll be back there in a second.”

Tiff scurried off and Nita met Frankie’s eyes again.

She offered a half-hearted shrug. “Idiotas.”

He chuckled softly, hoping that she couldn’t tell just how disappointed he was to see her go.

Her gaze shifted to something over his shoulder. “Lorenzo! Do you have a pen?” she called, making a writing gesture in the air.

Frankie could only watch as she thanked the bartender for the pen and pulled her wallet out of her back pocket.

“All I have are business cards,” she told him, biting her lip sheepishly. She slipped one out of her wallet and started writing across the back. Then, she was handing it to him. “This is my cell number. And I don’t think I ever got your name.”

He took the card in a daze. “It’s Frankie,” he said softly.

“Nita,” she said, gesturing to herself with one hand as she returned her wallet with the other. “Maybe we can do this again sometime, Frankie. Sin los idiotas.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

She offered him one last breathtaking smile. “Have a good night.”

“Night. And good luck with the carpool,” he said as she started walking away.

He heard her laugh.

He turned to face the bar again, a smile plastered across his face.

A few moments later, he saw some of her group walk out the door. A few stumbled. The woman who had brought an end to their conversation stopped to talk to the bartender before moving to hold the door open. Then, Nita was half-carrying, half-dragging a chattering man out of the bar, a bouncer following close behind.

Frankie chuckled to himself, shaking his head. It was probably time for him to head out, too. The beer in his hand was beyond lukewarm and it wasn’t going to help him feel any better than he already did.

He waved down the bartender as he reached for his own wallet, carefully tucking Nita’s business card away before thumbing through his cash.

“How much?” he asked.

Lorenzo shook his head, holding up a hand. “You’re covered.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Boss took care of it,” said the bartender, nodding to the door and offering him a shrug.

“Oh.” Frankie let that process as he slowly put his wallet away. “Gracias, señor.”

He felt a little light-headed as he made his way out of the bar. So much had happened so quickly. He’d started the night determined to wallow in self pity, only to end it with a warm feeling in his chest and the promise of a date in the near future.

~*~*~*~

If anyone wants to be tagged, send me a message and I’ll add you!

Taglist: @zeldasayer @tarrevizslas

~ Mike

[get-your-fics]

Whatever He Wants

Summary: You’re an intern at Wayne Enterprises, and you mistakenly catch Bruce Wayne’s eye.

Pairing: dark!Bruce Wayne x reader

Warnings: Smut, rape/non-con, sexual harassment, language

You stood in the back corner of the executive-conference-room-turned-work-party with a drink in your hand and your arm folded protectively around your waist. The air was filled with chatter and laughter, and you stared at the clusters of business execs and board members who all got paid ten times what you did. It was supposed to be a casual affair, but casual meant something completely different at Wayne Enterprises than it did to you. You felt out of place in your plain slacks and button up blouse. Everyone was wearing what they had worn to work that day, but that meant the women wore Louboutin stilettos and designer dresses, and the men wore two piece Givenchy suits. It looked like a casting call for New York Fashion Week models more than a work party.

Being an intern, you didn’t have many friends at Wayne Enterprises, especially not ones of this high of status. In fact, your work only ever required you to talk to one person, and you hadn’t spotted him yet...

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)!” You snapped your head to see your boss Lucius Fox walking up to you. Spoke too soon. “Shouldn’t you be on a coffee run somewhere?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, shut up.” You knocked your shoulder playfully into his.

Contrary to his joke, Lucius was one of the few bosses you had while interning that didn’t make you fetch Starbucks orders or make copies the entire time. He actually taught you things that would apply to your career later in life, and sometimes he would even let you handle projects he oversaw. For someone in this cutthroat line of work, he was surprisingly nice and levelheaded. He never talked down to you or acted you like you were less than him. He treated you more like his coworker than anything, and you severely respected him as your mentor.

He opened his arms, and you gave him a big bear hug. “How are you?” He stepped away. “Why are you lurking in the corner by yourself?” he asked.

“Waiting for you to show up, don’t you know?” you taunted him.

“Oh, I’m flattered.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “But relax tonight. Mingle, meet some people.”

“Right, ‘cause who wouldn’t want to talk to a broke college intern in a room full of world class business execs?” You scoffed.

Lucius opened his mouth to speak, but he never got the chance to as a tall figure approached. Bruce Wayne strolled up to you, dressed in a black Yves Saint Laurent suit. His jet black curls were parted and slicked, and his dark, brown eyes were sharp like a hawk’s. “Lucius.” He gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

“Bruce.” He met his gaze before shooting you a look out of the corner of his eye.

Bruce Wayne was an absolute foil to Lucius Fox. He walked around like he owned the place even though he had just recently come into his inheritance of the company within the last year. He would strut into Lucius’s office and completely ignore you most days. On the days he didn’t, he would send you on meaningless errands and talk to you like how an owner would talk to his dog. He claimed the title of advisor and CEO, although he hardly did more than prance around and flaunt his abundance of wealth and condescend to anyone who had the unfortunate displeasure of crossing his path.

He turned his head, and his dark eyes locked with yours, scalding you. “Mr. Wayne.” You clasped your hands in front of you and kept your tone passive and neutral.

His eyes narrowed into slits as he looked you up and down. You felt like you were under examination. “Intern, I have some papers in my office I need filed.”

Your eyes widened. He didn’t just... did he?

“Bruce,” Lucius’s tone was sickly sweet and artificial, a warning, “it’s a work party. Nobody’s doing any work right now.”

He laughed like he had said a joke. “Like she does work any other day of the week? All she does is sit there and watch you type on your computer.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your side, and you bit your tongue. He was acting like you weren’t even there. You so badly wanted to tell him off for speaking to you in such a rude manner, but you knew better than to do so. As much as you hated it, he was your boss, even more so than Lucius, and he could have your ass thrown out of the Wayne Enterprises building any time he liked.

“Come on, Bruce. Let her enjoy the party. You should enjoy it too,” he suggested.

His face remained stone cold and unfeeling. He switched his gaze to you. “Let’s go. I’ll show you where they are.”

He spun around on the heel of his polished dress shoe, and you knew better than to disobey him. Lucius let out a sigh next to you. “Have fun, intern,” he accentuated the last word, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh, you know I will.” You took one last look at Lucius’s smile full of blinding white teeth and chased after Bruce. You hurried to close the distance between the two of you before he could realize you had tarried.

You turned out of the conference room and into the hall as you followed him. Your flats slapped against the glossy, marble floors as you approached the elevators. He jammed the button displaying an up arrow with his thumb, and a second later, a resounding ding sounded as a red light flashed above the elevator to your left. The sleek, metal doors of the elevator slid open.

He placed his hand on your lower back. “Get in.” You stiffened under his touch. His hand moved down until it was resting just above the curve of your ass. You were about to step out of his grasp when he gave you a nudge with his hand towards the elevator.

You caught yourself on the frame of the elevator door before you could tumble. You thought you heard a deep chuckle behind you, and you gritted your teeth before walking into the elevator. He got in beside you, entering with grace and elegance, and hit the button for the top floor of the building. It lit up as the doors clicked into place, and the elevator jolted as it started its ascension.

Silence settled over the elevator, and you could feel it eating you up inside. You fidgeted and shifted your weight from foot to foot as Bruce stood beside you, stoic. The prospect of spending time alone with him made dread form deep in the pit of your stomach, although you didn’t mind getting away from the party. You were slightly grateful for having an excuse to escape, if only he hadn’t have been that excuse.

The elevator halted, and a moment later, the doors opened. Bruce stepped out first, and you followed after him on instinct. You walked down a corridor before stopping in front of a tall door. He fished his keycard out of the pockets of his suit pants and swiped it through the scanner. The red dot changed to green, and he turned the handle without a problem. He pushed the door open and stood to the side, gesturing you inside.

You walked into his office. All of the lights were off. He stepped in behind you and let the door fall shut. With a flick of his finger on the light switch, the dim, overhead lights cast a warm, yellow glow down on his office. You had never been in here before, but it looked just how you expected it would. The walls were lined with floor to ceiling bookcases, the shelves filled with neatly stacked, color coded books. A grandiose, black desk was in the middle of the room, a overstuffed, tufted desk chair on one side and a plain one on the other. You assumed whoever had sat in the plain chair was either really lucky or really unfortunate. But the most breathtaking part of his office was the wall behind his desk that consisted of large windows looking out onto Gotham City’s skyline. You could see every neon light, every digital billboard, and every headlight of the cars stuck in traffic several levels below your feet. You wanted to press your hands and face to the glass and stare out the window all night, but resisted the urge to.

“You have a beautiful view,” you broke the silence, your voice wavering.

Bruce didn’t say anything. He merely walked past you, and you swore you felt his hand brush up against your ass. But it must’ve just been your imagination. You shook off the feeling as he got out a stack of loose papers piled a mile high. He dropped it onto the desk with a solid thud.

“Here’s the papers.” He maneuvered around the desk and pulled out the bottom drawer. “And here’s where you can file them.”

You walked over and peered down at what he was talking about. The bottom drawer of the desk was a built in filing cabinet. It was separated by multiple dividers all a different color. They each had a tab with a letter going from A to Z in bold, black font and a manila folder behind each divider.

“I want all of them sorted by the first letter of their last name.” He put his hands on his hips. “Think you can manage that?”

You quirked a brow, but his face was hard and unreadable. Was he joking? You learned how to do this in middle school. “Yeah, I can,” was all you said, however.

“Good. Then get started.” You thought that he would leave, but he remained stationary where he was.

You grabbed a paper off of the top of the stack and scanned it with your eyes. It looked to be contact information of some sort. You found the person’s last name and bent over the filing cabinet. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw Bruce lean over as well, as if he was trying to get a peek down your shirt. You fixed your blouse so it covered more of your cleavage and shrugged it off. You were just paranoid, and now your mind was playing tricks on you. You searched for the corresponding letter and filed the paper into the appropriate folder.

You still felt his presence behind you. Maybe he was just trying to make sure you knew what you were doing. He didn’t trust you to file a few papers correctly? “Like that?” you asked, hoping the slight edge to your voice made it clear you wanted to be left alone.

“Yeah, just like that,” he answered. His voice sounded breathier and lower than it had before.

That’s when you felt it: two hands on your hips, and something hard brush up against your ass. You immediately retracted and turned around, your back bumping into the desk. You stared at him with wide eyes. “What the hell?”

Unfortunately, your position allowed him to trap you between him and the desk. “You’re such a tease, you know that?” He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and pressed an openmouthed kiss to your neck. “Walking around this office with your nose in the air like you’re better than everyone, like you’re better than me.”

He nipped at the skin on your throat, and you squeaked. You grabbed him by his shoulders and shoved him back far enough so he wasn’t touching you. What was he talking about? He was the one who thought he was better than everyone! “I... I think I should go.”

You made to slip between him and the desk, but he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and jerked you back. “You’re not going anywhere, not until I show you where you belong.”

You furrowed your brows. “What are you doing?” It was becoming increasingly hard to hide the panic in your voice. You tugged against his hand on you, but his grip held strong. “Let go of me!” You struggled to break out of his grasp. “Help!”

“Go ahead, scream. Most of the floors below us are empty. No one will hear you.” He pushed you back against the desk and held your body flush against him. His erection was now painfully evident as it strained against the fabric of his pants and poked you in the stomach.

Your eyes widened with fear as you realized no one was coming to save you. Now that flight was no longer an option, you decided to fight. You raised your free hand and clawed at him with a snarl. However, he caught your hand before it neared the smooth, pale skin of his cheek. Your vengeful expression fell, and his lips curled into a devious smirk.

“We’ll have to work on your behavior,” his hold on your wrists was tightening, his fingers painfully digging into your skin, “especially towards your boss.” He leaned in and buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent. His hips bucked against yours, and you yelped when you felt how hard he was.

“I’ll... I’ll tell someone!” you threatened, your voice shaky and uneven. “I’ll tell-”

He reared back. “Who are you going to tell? Lucius?” he cut you off. “He can’t do anything. Besides, I’ll just fire you, and you’ll look like you’re making up shit to save face.” He took the skin of your neck between his lips and sucked, clearly aware of the power he had over you.

You bit down on your lip to hold in any moans that wanted to escape as your body tensed against him. You didn’t want to lose your job - couldn’t lose your job. It was the first internship you had found that you had actually enjoyed, not to mention being an intern as a freshman in college at Wayne Enterprises was a major feat. You knew you would have to give into him eventually. It was inevitable; he was Bruce Wayne. Everything got handed to him on a silver platter. Anything he wanted, he got, no matter the cost.

“Please, don’t fire me,” you squealed. You despised how pitiful and helpless you sounded.

He pulled away and cupped your face in his hands. “Oh, you want to be a good girl for me now?” You were forced to stare directly into his eyes. They were dark with lust, and his pupils were extremely dilated. They looked completely black.

You sucked in a breath before your next statement. “What will you do for me if I do?”

He grinned like a wolf barring its teeth. “Now, you’re talking.” He moved his leg in between yours and pressed his thigh right against the sensitive area in your crotch. You gasped at the pleasure that ran through you like a chill as warmth pooled in your gut. “I’ll double your salary,” he rocked against you, causing his thigh to rub your clit, “and guarantee you a job in four years time.”

“Do you like doing this?” You tried to seem tough despite your wavering voice. “Forcing yourself on vulnerable interns?”

He chuckled at that. “Lucky for you, you’re my first. There’s just something about you I find so... irresistible.” He ran this thumb over your bottom lip, and your jaw went slack. You were the same age, but right now he seemed so much older than you. “So, do we have a deal?”

You were absolutely aching now. As much as you hated the wetness that gathered in between your thighs, it was growing unbearable. You didn’t think you could stand it any longer, and his offer was pretty much impossible to pass up on. Securing a job at Wayne Enterprises would set you on a good career path for the rest of your life.

You nodded. “Okay.” Your voice cracked.

His grin widened, and his eyes darkened until they swallowed all light that hit them. “Good.”

He crashed his lips against yours. You were so taken aback that you bumped back into the desk, causing the stack of papers to crash to the ground. They scattered across the floor, and some floated in the air before slowly descending and coming to rest. He didn’t seem to care and continued to move his lips against yours. You closed your eyes and tried to relax into the kiss. He tilted his head to the side and slipped his tongue into your mouth, quickly gaining dominance over yours. He tasted like whatever drink he had been sipping on downstairs at the party: sweet, but bitter. You loathed the fact that you enjoyed the taste and found yourself yearning for more.

He disconnected your lips, a flush of red across his pale features and one dark lock out of place on his forehead. “Get on the desk,” he whispered huskily, his lips tickling the shell of your ear.

You did as he said and grabbed the lip of the desk, pushing yourself on top of it. You laid down on your back and hugged your knees to your chest. You caught sight of the red marks he had left on your wrists and rubbed at them. You rolled out your sore wrists, knowing you would find bruises there later.

He grabbed your blouse and tore it open, causing buttons to pop off and fly everywhere. You listened as they bounced off of the desk and onto the floor. He covered the cups of your bra with his hands and left a trail of wet kisses over the swells of your breasts. He moved his hands lower to the zipper on your pants. He pulled it down and practically ripped your pants and your underwear off of you. He pushed your legs apart, and you became aware of how exposed you were. You felt like you were on display for him.

He stared down at your pussy like he was mesmerized and ran a finger through your folds. “You’re so wet, all for me.” You felt your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. He slipped his finger inside of you, and you gasped as the burning stretch gave way to pleasure. “Don’t pretend you don’t want this.”

He got on his knees and wrapped his lips around your clit as he continued to pump his finger in and out of you. The sensation was too much for you, and you couldn’t stop the filthy stream of expletives that spilled from your lips. You needed something to grab onto, so you threaded your fingers through his hair. He moaned against you as you roughly yanked on his dark curls, the vibrations only aiding the arousal pulsing through you.

Just as you felt your climax building, he pulled away. You almost whined at the loss, but stopped yourself by biting down your tongue. He ran his tongue over his lips, licking your juices that dripped off of his chin, and sucked your slick off of his fingers. He shrugged off his suit jacket and loosened the tie around his neck. Then, he reached down and undid his own zipper. You watched as he pushed his pants and boxers over his hips, freeing his straining erection. You got a good look at just how big he was, precum dripping off of the red tip.

He leaned over you so his face was mere inches from yours. You felt the head of his cock at your entrance. He pushed in, and a squeak fell from your lips. You felt like you were being pulled apart in different directions. You sat up on your elbows and spread your legs wider to alleviate some of the tension. He pushed you back down and pressed his chest flush against yours. He finally pushed in to the hilt, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

He pulled out of you only to thrust back in with a sharp snap. You yelped, your walls still too tight to accommodate him comfortably. “Relax, intern,” he purred, his tone strangely soothing. He planted one arm on the desk next to you to steady himself as he set a pace. “Fuck, I knew you’d feel amazing.” Sweat gathered on his brow as his lips parted in rapture. The sight made your stomach crawl, and you looked away. He grabbed your chin, squishing your cheeks, and turned your head back to face him.

He forced you to stare into his eyes as he fucked you. They were like two blackholes, endless, bottomless voids that you could fall into. He pounded into you faster now, and you could feel your orgasm starting to build once again. His white button up clung to his chest with sweat where your bodies met, and the creaking of the desk under your weight filled your ears. Your breaths came shorter now, and there was no stopping your desperate mewls. He grunted in time with his thrusts, the head of his cock hitting that spot in you just right each time he pushed in to his max.

You were on the cusp of your orgasm as you latched onto his shoulders. “Are you going to cum for me, intern?” he almost sneered at you.

You wanted to curse him out, but found that your brain couldn’t form any words. All you could do was let out a breathy sigh and nod your head. You locked eyes with him as your pussy constricted around his cock, drawing a high-pitched whine from you. Your juices spilled out of you and coated your thighs as you came. You arched your spine, the back of your head painfully connecting with the desk, and curled your toes as every nerve ending in your body was set on fire. You raked your nails up his back under his shirt, leaving goosebumps and red, irritated skin in your wake.

He groaned and sped up. “Gonna fill you with my cum,” he muttered and licked at your breasts. “You want that, intern? For me to cum inside you?”

You couldn’t say anything; you were still coming down from your high. He growled and pushed your knees up by your shoulders. He thrust into you all the way as he came, spilling his warm seed into you. He stilled on top of you, his thighs twitching and his face frozen in ecstasy. Then he pulled out of you, and you could feel his cum drip out of your sore pussy.

He collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your hair. You both stayed like that for a moment as you recovered from your climaxes. Then, he pushed himself up and covered your face in kisses. It was a strangely sweet and intimate gesture for the harsh fucking he had just done to you.

He got completely off of you and pulled his pants up, zipping his fly. You slowly sat up, your head spinning. You looked for your discarded pants on the floor and eventually located them through your blurry gaze. You reached for the lacy underwear sitting on top, but a hand snatched them out of your grasp before you could get to them. Bruce brought them up to his nose and sniffed, a mischievous smirk coming over his face. “Consider these assurance of our agreement.” He dangled them from his finger tauntingly before stuffing them in his back pocket.

You grimaced as you pulled on your pants, the material sticking to your legs. You didn’t know why you were getting dressed; there was no way you could go back to the party looking how you did. Your hair was mussed, your lips red and swollen, and you were covered in sweat and saliva and cum. You looked thoroughly fucked, and everyone would know what you were up to with your boss in his office. It wouldn't be hard to come to some conclusions.

Speaking of... “So, when will I get my raise?” you asked as nonchalantly as possible. You tried to casually lean back against the desk. You could see an outline of your entangled bodies in sweat on the surface.

You watched as he adjusted his tie. “Probably by the end of this weekend.” He fixed the collar of his button up. “However, it is going to come directly out of my personal bank account. Not that that’s a problem, but I think that I should be the one getting the benefits of your hard work instead of Lucius.” He smoothed out the fabric of his shirt with his hands. “So you’ll be interning under me for now on.”

Your heart sank to your stomach. “Wha... what?”

He smirked. “You heard me, intern.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his chest, pressing a kiss to your matted hair. He had gotten the last laugh. “It looks like me and you will be working very, very close together.”

[girlbabyvelez]

Hasta La Muerte // Chapter Six

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Violence (not graphic tho), mention of drugs and guns, illegal stuff yk, 

A/N: I know Richard’s family isn’t terrible! They are great people who are very supportive of their children and love them! But for the purpose of this story, they aren’t. Just a reminder it is fiction!

Also thank you for being patient ❤ I’m going to be updating more just ahh you know? Any who I hope you enjoy this chapter!

You plaster a smile onto your face as the bartender slides you the drinks, unaware of the men threatening you. You could still feel their grimy hands on you, slightly loosening their grip on you so they wouldn't raise red flags to the bartender. You took this chance to turn on your heels, finally facing the men that threatened and groped you. They looked down at you with dirty smirks on their faces, waiting to hear what you would say.

"Papasitos, let me tell you a little secret." You begin, flicking the hair from your face and setting the drink back down on the bar. They both still had their smirks, but this time they were intrigued by what you were about to tell them. In a swift movement, you grabbed the one that was closest to you and your knee found his groin, you could hear him stumble over his words because of the pain you caused. "Don't you dare ever fucking touch me again. And tell whoever sent you here to have the guts to say it to my face instead of sending his little minions." You whispered in his ears, pushing his body away from him and leaving the drinks behind as you went back with your friends.

"I need to talk to Richard. You and Liddya should go back to your place and wait there for Yashua. It's not safe here." You whisper to her. Tati was the only one of your friends that knew about your family business and that was only because she was family to you already. She nodded at your words as you quickly escaped the crowded club.

~

Half an hour later you found yourself storming down the hall and into Richard's office. As soon as you had pushed the doors open, Richard and Joel turned at you with their hands resting on their guns.

"Mana? What are you doing here? It's one in the morning." Richard questions, he knew by your outfit and the smell of alcohol that you had been enjoying a night out on the town. You didn't care about that though, you needed to know who was threatening you and why because they threatened the life of your family.

"Who the fuck is Paulo and Sergio?" You ask crossing your arms and looking expectantly at your brother.

"Why are you asking?"

"They told me to tell you that we're targets and should sleep with one eye open." You repeat to Richard. Joel took a step towards you as you finish your sentence, he knew what this meant for you, Richard, and the mob.

"They threatened you?" Joel asked.

"What the fuck?!" Richard explains, anger bursting out of him. They couldn't just threaten and green light his family and get away with it.

"Yes. I mean I can protect myself but I want to know who they are." You respond and turn back to Richard with demanding eyes. Richard let out a deep breath before his eyes met yours.

"No, you can't. If they threatened you, it was ordered by Santiago and he is out for our blood." Richard tells you as he runs a hand over his face. "There is a lot you missed when you left the mafia Y/N."

"What do you mean?" You ask this time you were confused because your brother usually ended up telling anything that could put you or his family in danger.

"Santiago controls the drug and gun flow from Colombia into Miami. But we control the drug, money, and guns flow from Mexico, Cuba, and Puerto Rico."

"So it's a war over control?" You ask and Richard nods. You shake your head knowing that Colombia had a lot of power as well, and now you were greenlit. "Okay well, obviously we need to do something for protection."

"I have an idea. But I don't know how much you'll like it," Joel begins. You turn your focus back to him and look at him expectantly.

"We'll need to push up the plans for you and Chris to get married. Chris can protect you, and you would help secure our process of switching and flipping money and drugs." Joel explains. You groan having forgotten everything with Chris. But there was nothing you could do now, it was out of your hands and you needed to do it for your safety and the business.

"Okay, so how will we do it?" Richard asks as all three of you sit down at his desk, ready to talk business.

"Well, we need their engagement to seem real. We need your coworkers and friends to witness it Y/N." Joel tells you and you nod your head.

You needed to make all of this seem as real as you possibly could, considering that this was all just a front for the illegal things you would be doing behind closed doors.

"Okay, so we'll have a party. My birthday is in 3 days, we can have it next weekend and Chris would surprise me with the proposal?" You suggest. This would be the perfect way to fool everyone that didn't know about the secret illegal things your family did.

"Okay, we need to start planning." Richard orders.

~

All of you sat gathered in Richard's living room. You sat between Richard and Chris, Tati sat on Yashua's lap, Erick and Joel stood alone while Zabdiel had an arm around his girlfriend's shoulder. Everyone that needed to be here to execute the plan you guys had come up with last night was here.

"So are you going to explain what's happening and why we're here at 5 in the morning?" Tati questioned as she looked around the room.

"Santiago threatened Y/N and me," Richard states, leaning forward and propping his elbows against his knees. You analyzed the reactions of the boys: Zabdiel furrowed his brows at the information because he knew what this meant for the mob, Erick crossed his arms, Yashua tightened his fists before you turned to Chris who just stared at you with concern in his eyes.

"What does this mean for the mob then?" Erick asks, he knew why Santiago threatened you but he was confused as to what the next step was.

"Well, our plans have moved up the timeline. Chris and I will be getting engaged next weekend at my birthday party." You begin to explain. "And we need you all to help, we're going to invite Paulo and Sergio so they can pass along the message to Santiago but we need to make this engagement as believable as possible."

"Which is why Mariana and Tati are here. You three need to plan this party and who to invite, as well as protecting each other. Santiago was bold to threaten Y/N in person and we know he's capable of hurting our loved ones." Richard orders. You shift your gaze from him to Tati who just nodded at him before your eyes found Zabdiel girlfriend who you assumed was Mariana. She softly smiled at you because she knew that this was a dangerous situation for all of you.

"Well as your event planner, I got this. We just need to meet up later tonight to figure out the details." Mariana tells both you and Tati.

"Mariana will help plan the party and the wedding since she is our event planner," Richard adds on. You nod at his words and smile at Mariana.

Once Richard and Joel were done explaining the role of everyone they all began to disperse, ready to go back to their homes to catch those extra hours of sleep. Neither you nor Joel and Richard had gotten the chance to sleep, how could you after that threat?

"Vamos, te llevaré a casa para que duermas." You hear Chris tell you, his hand found its way towards yours and he gently wrapped it around yours. You let out a sigh and nod your head, you knew this conversation needed to happen especially now that it's set in stone for you to be married. You stood up and allowed Chris to guide you back to his car, his hand only leaving yours to open the door for you.

"Can I take you back to my place?" Chris asks you as he turns on the engine and you nod at his question. You were scared to talk because when you got back to his place, you would need to look him in the eye as you lied to him. You could feel his warm hand envelops your again, giving it a gentle squeeze as he kept his eyes on the road.

The entire twenty-minute ride back to his place was only filled with the sound of Latin music playing on the radio. You had never been to his place before, it was always him going to yours so he placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you up the stone steps to the front door. Chris stepped in front of you to swiftly unlock the door and push it open. You quietly thanked him and let him close the door behind you.

"My room is down the hall and to the right. I'm just going to make us some tea first." Chris tells you waiting for you to say something before you both parted ways. You managed to find your way to his room, the bed was undone and you knew it was because he was asleep when Richard called him, and you spotted the framed pictures he had of his family sitting on the dresser. You looked at them for a minute noting the wide smile he had with his mom and grandma as well as pictures with his dad and younger siblings. You sighed and turned around, setting your stuff down on his bedside table and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Chris waited for the kettle to boil enough water for the both of you, his hands playing with the string as he allowed the tea to steep. His mind was everywhere from the fact that he had to propose in a week, he didn't even know what you meant last week, and now it was his job to protect you because you had been green-lit by Santiago. He sighed and grabbed the two hot mugs before slowly making his way back to his room.

He saw you sitting on the edge of his bed, your eyes were focused on your hands. He cleared his throat to let you know that he was there before handing you the hot cup of tea as he placed himself on the other side of the bed next to you. The windows were almost as big as the wall and you could see the light blue shade begin to peek up with the rising sun.

"We need to talk." You whisper and look over at Chris. His honey eyes we already on you and he nodded at your words.

"Let me get you some clothes first," He told you taking your mug and his and setting it down on the dresser, he quickly rummaged through a drawer before pulling out a comfortable black shirt and handing it to you.

"Can you help me unzip the dress?" You asked as you stood up, Chris nodded before he spun you around, his warm hand unzipping the dress and letting it fall to your feet. You pulled the shirt over yourself and let it fall around you before the both of you sat back on the bed, your left leg crossed on the bed so you could face Chris.

"So?" Chris awkwardly begins.

"I'm sorry for the past week. Look Chris if I'm being honest, I'm just scared." You tell him. You looked at him and lied through your teeth. "I'm scared to be a mom."

"Por qué?" He asks and wraps one warm hand around your smaller one. You took in a deep breath before deciding what you were going to say next.

"It's just something scary and my mother wasn't always the best to me. I'm just scared to be like that with our kids," You say. Partially lying but also telling the truth. Chris squeezed your hand and pulled you closer to him.

"I get it. But we'll all be here if we do have kids. And you'll be an amazing mother, I've seen the way you are with Aaliyah." Chris whispers. He removes his hand from yours and wraps his arms around yours, pulling you closer as the both of you fall back into the bed.

"I hope."

And soon Christopher fell asleep with his arms around you as you lay there looking at the ceiling. You felt the guilt engulf you, you were lying to him and you knew you were going to do anything to prevent having a kid as long as you could, you couldn't put them in danger or the life of being related to the mafia. You lost a majority of your family when you left the mob and you couldn't have a child if you knew they would suffer the same fate. You needed this marriage for the safety of you and your family, and you would do anything for them, including lying to your future husband.

Taglist:  @babecita-1 @yashuazbabygirl @getmealifepls @cyaneaa @codename-nyx @phanislife124 @cncoh-damn @mamacamacho @smoljoelito @itsmaytimetosaygoodbye @ladykxxx08 @la-undercover-latina @lostpil52 @undeadspazzattack @plentyoffandoms @bbyyelyah @babyyynatty @juneninetynine @disneydejesus @cnchoe-imagines @cncloca  @valeriiaaass @moonlitzabdiel @damnthoseyes  @disneydejesus @ourkarlanicoleuniverse @niallisworld @multi-fandomgoddess @california-creator @ ego-allie-bap 

[beanfic]

Diary Pt. 1

Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader

Word count: 1296

Warnings: Fluff and talk of a past relationship that ended badly.

Author’s note: This fic ended up being longer than I expected so I am splitting it up into 2 parts!! Hope you enjoy! :) 

He has pink hair. You heard that right. Pink. Hair. AND he plays the drums!! It’s the universe was like “hey Y/N likes musicians and boys with dyed hair so lets have him work at the same place!” But I doubt he would like someone like ME. Someone who is just ordinary. 

You sighed as you finished composing that last sentence in your diary. It was true, you were just ordinary. You didn’t have dyed hair. No piercings. You couldn’t even play any instruments that well. 

You twirled the mechanical pencil that you were scribbling with around your fingers as you pondered about what to write down next. This was always your problem when you were writing in your diary, you had so many thoughts in your brain that it was hard to organize and compile them. 

It’s not like I am afraid of love or a relationship, even though I should be after my last one but we don’t talk about HIM anymore...plus Josh seems so sweet. Maybe I should just try to be friends with him! Maybe I should try hanging out with him or something like that. I don’t know...I get so awkward and nervous around him! I work with him tomorrow and I will see what happens, I suppose. 

You softly shut your diary as you held it close to your body. You felt stupid for feeling so giddy about a boy that you had barely talked too. You stood up from your desk where you were writing and walked over to your mirror and started playing. with your hair a little bit, and you started to wonder what it would look like if your hair was pink too. 

*****

“Bye!” you called out to your roommate in between bites of a bagel as you rushed out to your car. You were running late for work once again, even though you had woken up and given yourself enough time. You might have spent a little extra time on your outfit. You wanted to look good! Not just for Josh, but for yourself! Okay... maybe it was just for him. 

It was a weekday which meant work wasn’t going to be too busy, and you were probably going to be paired up to work on a project, and you knew that since Josh is the newest employee he would get paired up with you. You thought this would be a great opportunity for you to talk to him and try to get to know him better. 

“Y/N!” your manager called out as you rushed through the door with a minute to spare.

“I know I’m almost late again, the traffic was worse than I expected!” you tried to explain.

“It’s okay! It’s been slow today anyways, Josh is already in the back doing some organizing if you want to go clock in and head back there and help him!”

You nodded, “Sounds good!” You walked to the back and dropped off your bag in the locker before heading to the computer so you could start your shift. You saw Josh’s bright pink hair in the corner opening up a box. He looked up once he noticed you walk in and nodded to you. 

“Hey,” he mumbled. 

“Hey,” you responded back softly. He was acting off, maybe today wasn’t a good day to ask him to hang out outside of work. You clocked in and walked over to where he was kneeling. He was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans with ripped knees. He looked good. 

“Here to help?” he asked without looking away from the items he was organizing.

“Yep, you’re stuck with me,” you chuckled, testing the waters.

“Hey now, that’s not such a bad thing,” he spoke back, making your stomach flutter. You quickly told yourself not to think too much into it. 

The first thirty minutes were spent by Josh explaining how he was organizing the items, and you correct him. You felt bad about correcting him, but every time you did he would smile a little as he apologized. 

“I should have waited until you got here so you could have shown me,” he laughed as you were flipping through a stack of very old papers. 

“True, but I enjoyed teaching you.”

“You’re a good teacher,” he gave you a little shove with his shoulder making you almost lose balance. You were resting on your knees so you caught yourself quicker than you would have if you were standing up.

“You know I’m really glad you started working here,” you blushed. You usually you weren’t this forward with boys, but Josh was different. You were able to be yourself and not act fake around him. 

“Me too, this place is way better than the last place I worked.”

“Where did you work?”

He chuckled, “Starbucks.”

“No way,” you smirked.

“I was a barista,” he gave you a wink but you responded by giving him an eye roll. 

“The coworkers are better here,” you said.

Josh nodded, “For sure.”

You took a deep breath, “Hey Josh, would you like to hang out outside of work?” You talked faster than you ever had before, and you quickly diverted your eyes to the ground. 

“I would love to,” he bellowed. You looked up at him and he was flashing you the widest smile, and his eyes creased. 

“Really?” your lips curling up into a grin. 

“Yeah, what would you like to do?” 

You thought about it for a second before responding, “I don’t really know! You could always come over to my house and we could play video games, or we could do something outside too.”

“I think your house sounds nice.” Josh looked up at you and you could tell he was blushing by how pink his ears had turned. They looked as if he had spent a whole day in the sun and forgot to put sunscreen on the ends of his ears. 

“Cool,” you sighed. “I’ll text you tonight my address.”

“Sounds good.”

*****

He wants to hang out with me! I straight up asked him and he said yes! I think he might like me, and im not just saying that! I wish i could describe how the tone of his voice was. It was like almost flirty? Ive also heard him talk to the other coworkers and it doesn’t sound like that! 

You laid in your bed covered by blankets, freshly out of the shower, and was busy writing down the adventures from today into your diary. You knew you were not going to be able to sleep well tonight because you were so anxious for tomorrow. 

I want to look nice tomorrow! What if he kisses me? Man, I haven’t kissed anyone in a while! Hopefully im still good at it!! I need to stop overreacting! I will just make him food and we can play Uncharted or another game he wants and just get to know each other more! 

You usually tried to convince yourself to not stress by explaining different scenarios in your brain. It might have been an only child thing, but you used your diary for every thought you had. You never talked to anyone about your personal issues, they all got scribbled down into this leather book. 

His hair reminds me of pink clouds. Soft pink clouds. I bet he smells good. I bet his hair smells good. I want to run my hands through the soft pink clouds.

You closed your diary and placed it on your nightstand, and you switched your lamp off. Your heart was racing as you continued to think about Josh in your head. You were falling hard, and you really hope you were going to be caught and not left to fall and get hurt. You didn’t want a repeat of your last relationship.

[jawnjendes]

i’m not usually like this | shawn mendes

university au, shawn x goth gf

if theres anything you wanna see happen in this series, let me know!

masterlist | series playlist

It all started because he asked a simple question. “Do you ever wear anything that isn't black?”

I've heard this question many times in my life, from family members, to coworkers, to strangers in my classes. The context in which Shawn asked me, however, was different than normal; He was pulling off my sweatpants and noticed my dark underwear. I told him to shut up and proceeded to ride him into oblivion.

When I wasn't surrounding myself with a brick wall to keep me safe, when I was not being stone cold and expressionless, I was quite the sex fiend. I'll take it anytime, and just about anywhere. I mean, you already know the story of those three hours Shawn and I spent in my bedroom, knowing that my roommate was home. That's not even the worst of it. We've had sex in his car, my car, outside my car, my living room, his kitchen, a bar bathroom, and a stranger's dorm room.

Listen… Shawn Mendes is a man of many talents. If he wasn't my boyfriend, he would be a fuck buddy.

Anyway, he liked to tease me about my wardrobe choices just as much as he liked to praise me. Sometimes he would ask who I’m about to sacrifice to the dark lord, and other times he would thirst over my black skirt and tights. Even better, sometimes he put on his black floral shirt as an attempt to match my ensemble. But this story is about his teasing.

After going at it for an hour at his apartment (my thighs were incredibly fatigued and shaky), I had to get ready for work. It was easy to get out of Shawn's hold since he was so loose and sleepy. As soon as I was ready, I kissed him goodbye and left his apartment in spirits so high it was considered abnormal for me. How did I know it was abnormal? My manager kept pointing out how chipper I was as I answered phones and helped customers. When people notice, that’s when you know things are changing.

It wasn't until I stopped by Walmart after my shift did Shawn's words sink in. I do wear black all the goddamn time. My closet is 99% black t-shirts, button ups, pants, leggings, and even underwear! The 1% is when I'm slacking on doing my laundry, that's when I would wear white.

That's not to say I don't like other colors. I used to experiment with bleaching my hair and dying it blue or green. I was a sucker for neon eyeshadow, and I was an absolute slut for red lipstick. Things are fluid, nothing is ever set in stone.

I looked through some of the clothing racks, but it’s Walmart, so nothing really stood out to me. Then I found myself in the underwear department. I was trying not to laugh at myself in front of other shoppers, because this was mildly insane. Was I really considering buying Walmart lingerie to prove a point to my boyfriend? There were some decent options after all.

My eye caught a black, sheer nightgown with a matching g-string. I studied it for a minute before deciding that I had a lot of black lace already, and half of it wasn't even intimate apparel. The next set I noticed was a simple sheer bra and underwear, also black. Getting there, but it wasn't enough. There weren't any in my size, anyway. I dug through the racks until I spotted something girly.

The first thing that put me off was that it was pink… baby pink. It was another nightie, but it was made of sheer tulle instead of lace. There were little pink and red hearts all over the skimpy fabric, and it came with a lace thong. It was cute, but it was the least Me thing here. On any other day, I would not be caught dead wearing anything pastel.

That's exactly why I ended up taking it home.

I quickly raced back to my dorm, feeling like I had some dangerous weapon hiding in the bag I was carrying. I didn't stop to speak to anyone I knew, and I was very glad that Shawn wasn't currently on campus. However, he did text me asking me to spend the weekend at his place. It only added to the butterflies in my stomach.

“Stella!” I frantically called once I had shut myself in my room.

She came practically running, bursting through the door. “What happened? Who died? Oh - oh my god.”

I was facing the full body mirror that was leaning against the wall. I tried on the daring piece of lingerie, testing it out on whoever was willing to see me like this. Stella was the only person who had seen me in my underwear apart from my boyfriend. However, I still had the decency to cover my breasts with my hands because the nightgown showed a bit too much.

“You trying to seduce me, ‘cause it's working,” Stella teased, wiggling her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

“Listen!” I turned to face her, trying to justify my outfit choice. “This was probably a stupid idea! It, it was an impulsive buy!”

“Dude, if he sees you in this, you're gonna end up pregnant.”

“Don't say that!” I looked down and twirled my body from side to side, watching the fabric swirl. I felt and looked a little too nervous.

“Seriously, you look hot. Just, y'know, maybe skip the heavy eyeliner and add more perfume. He'll link the scent to the time he had the best sex of his life.”

I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “I'll do the perfume thing, but I can't skip eyeliner. I need something to make up for all the pink I'm wearing.”

Stella nodded. “Yeah, that's another thing. I know this is something you wear when you wanna get dicked down, but you look so soft and adorable!”

“Shit, if you keep saying things like that I just might spend the night with you instead.”

~

It was night by the time I was at Shawn's apartment. He was in the middle of songwriting, and he wasn't alone. His friend, Teddy, was over. I guess she helped him write sometimes. The two of them were singing to themselves and throwing potential lyrics back and forth at each other. Teddy was frequently writing on a scrap of paper or typing on her laptop. Shawn was strumming his guitar, and sometimes he would glance at me and wink.

I sat silently on the couch and half listened to them brainstorm. I was glad I decided not to leave my Switch at home.

“You're so quiet, is something wrong?” Teddy pointed out. I don't know why I wasn't expecting it.

“Don't wanna bother the artists at work,” I said, keeping my eyes on my intense game of Smash Bros.

“She's like that,” Shawn told his friend. “She'll warm up eventually.”

“That makes me sound like an asshole,” I replied with a chuckle, and then I gasped as my character on screen got knocked out.

Still, I remained quiet as they continued their session. I stayed in the same spot on the couch, curled up and thoroughly entertained. Shawn insisted I sit closer though, considering that I was on the opposite end of the couch from him. He liked my company I suppose, even if I wasn't speaking.

Eventually, Teddy got her things together and left. She gave me a hug, said it was nice to meet me, and then gave Shawn a look that said “have fun you two.”

When we were finally alone, I went into Shawn's room, telling him I wanted to change into my pajamas. It was sort of true, I mean. I grabbed my overnight bag and dashed into the en suite bathroom. Normally, I would have started with taking off whatever makeup I had on, but I only had on some intimidating winged liner and mascara. I needed that tonight.

Fixing up my hair and spritzing on a ridiculous amount of perfume helped keep my nerves at bay. My stomach fluttered when I pulled out the frilly pink item of clothing. This just might be my demise.

Once I was dressed, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and placed my hands on my hips. A wise lady in a hospital drama said standing like a superhero helps increase confidence, so that's what I did. I tried to channel my inner dominatrix, despite the fact that I was probably very far from being just that.

“I'm a strong lady,” I whispered to myself, then I huffed out a breath.

I ruffled my hair one last time before going to the door. I had my hand on the knob, but I could hear the sounds outside this very room. I could hear Shawn's footsteps, I heard the bed creak as he sat down. I heard the sounds of his guitar.

My heart started to race. It was ready to beat out of my chest.

I don't know why the first thing I thought to do when I finally opened the door was to unattractively clear my throat. It's not like Shawn wouldn't notice if I quietly left the bathroom.

He looked up from his guitar, and it took a second for him to process what he was looking at. His eyes lit up, and his jaw went slack.

Awkwardly, I placed one hand on the doorway and the other on my hip. I didn't know what to do with my face, so I slapped on the mock composure. I looked at my boyfriend, unsure if I should say something or not.

“No way,” Shawn finally spoke, a grin forming on his face. He set down his guitar and moved so he was sitting at the foot of the bed. “Come here…”

His eyes were moving up and down my body as I timidly stepped towards him. The look on his face was full of surprise and wonder, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. I mean, I was in skimpy attire and none of it was dark. Anyone who knew me wouldn't believe it.

Shawn took my hands when I was close enough, and he shamelessly checked me out. His eyes stuck on my tits just long enough to raise the tension in the room.

I was still finding my voice. I was probably more flustered than he was.

“You're too cute,” he told me, finally looking at my face. “When did you get this?”

“Today,” I said softly. “I don't know, I looked for something black… this was all I could find in my size.”

“I'm really glad you went with this. You're so cute. The pink makes you look almost innocent. Turn around for me.”

A shy smile crept up on my face as I slowly spun around. I quickly came to realize that I was willing to do just about anything he wanted. Wow, and I thought I was going to have power tonight.

“So adorable,” Shawn mused when I was facing him again. “You're the cutest fucking thing ever, you know that?”

My roommate had said similar things, but it hit me different hearing it from my boyfriend. My face was probably redder than the hearts on this stupid nightie, and Shawn could probably see that.

“I don't wanna be cute,” I mumbled, looking down at our hands. “I wanna be sexy.”

“Trust me, you're very sexy. I, I don't even know what to do. That's why I keep talking. God, you're so pretty.” His hand went up and stroked my cheek.

Stop fucking talking and just take me already!

The only way I could express that was by bringing Shawn's hands to my waist, giving him permission to touch me wherever the fuck he wanted. His breathing picked up a little more as he ran his hands down to my lower hips, reaching around to grab my ass.

I delicately placed my hands on his shoulders, and he leaned in to kiss my collarbones. He kept mumbling about how pretty I was, and it made me feel some kinda way. I could feel just how hot his body was getting being so close to mine, it made me even hotter. His hands moved up to my stomach, moving under the nightie, and running along my skin. My body felt so alive and ablaze.

“Your heart's going fast,” he pointed out, placing a hand on my chest. “You nervous?”

I nodded. “More than I'd like to admit.”

He smiled warmly, and then showed me his hands. Seeing them tremble gave me some kind of relief and an ounce of confidence. I made him feel like that. He was turned on because of me.

Shawn stopped me when I grabbed the ends of my nightie to take it off. “No. Leave it on.”

“Really?” I asked. “Won’t it be in the way or something?”

He shook his head, looking up at me with something like desperation in his eyes.  “I… wanna do unspeakable things to you in this thing. We're leaving it on. Now get your ass on the bed.”

I would have fainted if he hadn't given me an order.

[ofsinnersandsaints]

safer in your arms

rating: E word count: 3171 one shot

AO3

Karen's apartment is getting painted, and since she was given absolutely no notice, she needs a place to stay for the night- which is how Frank ends up waking from a nightmare in the middle of the night with Karen in his bed and going on instinct he reaches for her.

Frank was staring at a can of soup, trying to come up with the interest to make it when he heard the knock at his door. Exactly five people knew where he lived and four of those people he wouldn’t mind dropping by on a quiet Tuesday night.

The fifth he was just as likely to hit as offer him a beer.

Moving to the door he checked the peephole and quickly opened it. “Karen? Everything okay?”

Her smile was a little wry. “Yeah, everything’s good. Weirdly, I haven’t come to you because of a deadly government conspiracy and no one has shot at me recently.”

Frank braced a hand on the open doorway. “It’s still early in the week. Want to come in?”

“That’s exactly what I’m here for.” Frank furrowed his brow but opened the door wider to let her inside. His place was sparse but it wasn’t the first time she’d been by, so she knew what to expect. “I need a place to stay.”

He shut the door, and watched her drop her bag on the only armchair in the room before turning to face him. “My place is being painted.”

“They didn’t give you any kind of heads up?”

“No,” she smiled and dropped onto his couch and he realized she was basically dressed for an evening in, leggings and a loose tank top. She looked warm and soft and a little too welcoming for his sanity. “Apparently when your tenant is an investigative journalist you don’t give them a heads up about possible lead paint and risk them writing an expose on you.”

Frank laughed and settled next to her on the couch. “And that leaves you without a place to stay tonight.”

“I tried hotels before barging in on you,” she promised. “But the only places with any kind of availability are more than I can afford.”

“I don’t mind the company.” She looked genuinely shocked which almost made him laugh again. “Despite my reputation as a lone gunmen, I’ve spent most of my adult life surrounded people.”

She curled up on his couch like she belonged there, her arm on the back of it so she could rest her temple against her hand. “I never thought about it like that.”

“I was an only kid growing up, but I had a pack of friends and we were always in each other’s space and then the army. Shit, there wasn’t a day that went by I had more than ten minutes to myself.”

“And then you got married,” she added with a small smile.

Frank returned it because he knew how careful she was about bringing up his ghosts, but he was getting better about it. “Then I got married, so even when I wasn’t deployed with a hundred other guys bunked in a single tent I had her, and our first apartment was about as shitty as this one is. We were constantly bumping into each other.”

“Did you fight a lot?”

“We drove each other crazy those first few months,” he admitted. “But we figured it out. We made good.”

“And now you’re back in a shitty apartment,” she teased and he smiled at her, shaking his head because he didn’t have a defense against that. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“I think I’ve got a can of chicken soup.”

“That’s just sad, Frank.” She moved to her knees and braced herself on his shoulder so she could reach her bag on the chair. “I’m ordering pizza, my treat since you’re letting me crash on the couch.”

“You’re not sleeping on the couch, Karen. You can take the bed.”

“Chivalry’s not dead,” she smirked, putting the phone to her ear. She ordered a pizza, loaded with everything but onions and anchovies, and then tossed her phone on the coffee table. “But seriously, I’m not taking your bed. You’re eleven feet tall, you wouldn’t get a minute of sleep.”

“I’ve slept in worst places.”

“Just because you have, doesn’t mean you should,” she argued, then tilted her head. “Can you share?”

“On occasion.”

“I sleep on the left side, that’s not up for negotiation.”

He felt like someone had tasered him, he was suddenly frozen and stupid. “You want to share the bed?”

“Sounds like the easiest solution,” she shrugged and got off the couch to take the three steps required to be in the kitchen. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“By all means,” he gestured towards the fridge. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks, I will. Do you want a beer?”

“You’re offering me one of my own beers?” he clarified. “Sure, why not?”

She grabbed two bottles and returned to the couch, legs crossed as she faced him. “I’m glad you were home, I would have hated to break into the Punisher’s apartment.”

“This isn’t the Punisher’s home,” he reminded her. The intercom downstairs was for Pete Castiglione, a construction worker who was gone for long stretches at a time. It was an easy cover, and on occasion he actually did work legit jobs.

The last job he’d worked on, one of his coworkers had suggested a blind date but Frank had turned it down, not in small part because of the woman sitting next to him.

“And still, it’s the safest place in New York.”

That warmed him, that she figured him as somewhere safe, especially considering how much danger he’d put her in over the years. “That’s mostly because there’s nothing here worth stealing.”

“That’s not true,” she argued. “I brought my laptop so there’s that.”

“Do you need to work?”

“If you weren’t home I was going to sleep at the paper,” she explained with a shrug. “There’s a couch where I can get a few minutes of shut eye.”

He caught the evasion, barely there, but something he noticed it because of how her eyes avoided his. Frank remembered the diner, when she’d confessed that she’d gone with him because he’d never lied to her. He liked to believe that she’d never lied to him either.

Reaching over he picked up her bag and pulled out her computer so he could hand it to her. “Here.”

She looked guilty but reluctantly took it. “You don’t mind?”

“Nah, go for it. I get that you’ve got shit to do.”

“Thanks.” Karen opened the laptop and set in on the coffee table, shifting so she could lean forward and log in. “Do you want to know what it’s about?”

“Sure, since there’s a fifty/fifty chance I’ll have to save you from something regarding it might be good for me to be in the know.”

She spent the next half hour describing her investigation and he happily joined her in the conversation, mostly listening, but butting in now and again with questions of his own and the only time the conversation stopped was when the food came and they switched to the television as they shared slices of pizza.

“I’m going to crash,” she announced sometime around midnight. “Don’t feel like you have to go bed just because I am.”

“Okay,” he said as she got up and headed to the bedroom which was just on the other side of an open archway. He waited another fifteen minutes for the movie to end before following, stepping into the bathroom to ditch his street clothes for shorts and a t-shirt.

When he climbed into bed Karen was already breathing softly on the other side.

It had been a long time since he’d gone to bed with someone else, even longer since he’d fallen asleep next to someone and it was a strange feeling.

Not unwelcome, just different.

Turning on to his stomach he closed his eyes and with the warmth of Karen beside him, quickly fell to sleep.

 He woke with a start, the room dark except for a flash of pale skin as cool hands touched his face in slow, soothing motions. “I’m here, Frank. I’m here.”

Karen, he realized, blindly reaching for her in the heavily shadowed darkness.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Shit, he must have said her name out loud.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice quiet but concerned, and close enough he could feel her breath on his cheek. “I think you were having a nightmare, you wouldn’t wake up.”

“Nightmare,” he managed to get out, but even to himself it sounded more like a question. He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming out. Frank’s hand found her shoulder and he ran his palms down her arm. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” she promised and her fingers ran up and down the back of his neck as if trying to soothe something untamed and scared. “Do you need anything?”

Frank thought of the adrenaline still coursing through his veins from some unknown terror, of the erratic beat of his heart which was slowing with every caress of Karen’s touch.

“You,” he heard himself saying as his hands moved to her hips and clenched tightly, the jersey fabric wrinkling in his hands. “I need you.”

“You have me,” she promised, but he didn’t think she understood.

Frank ran his hands over her body, the pads of his fingers pressing into her spine. “I need you, Karen.”

She stilled in his hands and he expected her to pull away, or evade the suggestion, but after the span of a few heartbeats he could feel her lean forward, and in the dark her mouth found his.

He knew he shouldn’t think of her as salvation, that wasn’t healthy for either of them, but after the turmoil of whatever demons had been chasing him in his sleep she was like a drink of cool water, of moonlight pushing through the storm clouds.

Frank sipped on her lips, pushing the hem of her shirt up until she reached down and took it off. She wrapped her arms around his neck, moved to straddle him in the dark as his hand slid up to cover her breast.

The panic in his veins turned into something else as they kissed; Karen was slow and deliberate as if she could calm him down by touch and gesture alone, so even while he wanted to take and ravage she soothed and comforted.

It had been too long since he’d had someone to hold onto in the middle of the night.

She ran her hands down his back and pressed herself closer, the center of her pressing against his growing erection.

He wished he could see her better, but there was something intimate about touching and tasting her without being able to see her because he knew what she looked liked. He ran his hand through her hair, his thumb brushing the skin above her temple where he knew she had a small scar from the hotel.

Frank pressed his lips to the beauty marks on her neck, one on each side.

When had he memorized her so completely?

He pressed his hands to her lower back, holding her steady, so he could shift on the bed and lay Karen on her back. “I shouldn’t need you like I do,” he murmured against her skin as he kissed down her sternum, over the bit of lace that wasn’t quite a bra, and down her stomach. “But goddamn, I can’t stop myself.”

“You have me,” she promised, her fingers threading through his hair. “I’m here.”

With a tug he pulled down her leggings and underwear, leaving them on the floor as he kissed his way back up her legs, along the inside of her thighs. She stiffened beneath him which gave him pause. “I can stop.”

“No,” she whispered, he could feel as well as hear the shift of her body on the sheets. “I’m just pretty sure I’m dreaming.”

Frank kept his touch soft on her legs as he traced the length of her legs. “Is this what I do to you in your dreams, Karen?”

“Yes,” she breathed out. “But usually I can see you.”

“Next time,” he promised without even thinking about the words. If they kept the lights off, the world stayed somewhere else.

The darkness had always been theirs.

He used his tongue to spread those lips he hadn’t yet kissed, to find the hard bud already damp with arousal. With his lips and teeth, along with his tongue, he tasted and teased her in an ever quickening rhythm, taking her comfort and mixing it with his desperation.

Karen’s thighs tightened against his temples and he had to reach up to grasp her legs and hold her down and away. As much he wouldn’t mind dying in the heat of her, he wanted to hear her come first.

“Frank,” she whimpered, her body starting to clench beneath him. “Frank, I’m so close.”

“What do you need?”

“More.”

He shifted onto his hands, towering above her even though he could barely make her out in the shadows. Frank spit into his right hand and wrapped it around his erection, pumping himself a few times before guiding the head of his cock into her.

It was a slow slide as she shifted beneath him in an effort take more of him inside her.

Frank gripped the sheets on either side of Karen’s head, trying to control himself because he’d love nothing more than to take her quick and hard, a purging of sorts, but he wanted better for them both.

He dropped to one of his elbows, the other hand moved the bralette aside and cupped her breast and brought it to his mouth so he could lave her with his tongue, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucked on her. All the while he was moving against her, with her, a slow in and out of slick friction.

Karen reached between them as he pleasured himself on her skin, he could feel her hand brushing against his erection whenever he pulled out and Frank shifted on the bed so he could watch the pale hand between them. Her fingers were busy on her clit, trying to get to the place they were both reaching for.

“What do you need?”

“Faster,” she answered as she put her free hand on the breast he’d been paying so much attention to, and Frank was entranced at the image of Karen taking what she wanted.

Frank obeyed the direction and braced himself on his elbows, picking up speed as he drove into her, realizing belatedly that he hadn’t put on a condom.

He realized he’d have to pull out, and he didn’t relish the idea of leaving the tight, wet heat of Karen’s cunt, and he wasn’t going to last much longer. But he couldn’t come before Karen, so he put one arm around her back and lifted her hips off the bed, changing the angle of his slid into her.

The strangled sound which came out of her mouth told him everything he needed to know, and even if it didn’t, Karen was more than happy to tell him. “God, yes. Right there, Frank. Right there.”

So he fucked her, the rapid speed echoed in the room with the sound of their flesh meeting.

“Yes,” Karen started saying, repeating the word as she reached out to hold onto his arm like an anchor. “Shit, Frank.”

And then she shattered beneath him, and Frank had half a second to pull out before coming himself, spending all over the sheets.

“Christ,” unable to hold himself up anymore he rested his weight on Karen. “I’m going to move in a minute.”

She chuckled beneath him, her hands running up and down his back. “You have thirty seconds before I won’t be able to breathe anymore.”

“Copy that,” Frank muttered, and then rolled off of her. “Fuck, what a way to wake up.”

“You scared the shit out of me,” Karen told him as rolled over so she could look at him. “I couldn’t wake you up.”

“Sorry,” he apologized. “It’s been a while since I’ve needed to worry about someone in bed with me when I have a nightmare. I’m going to get some clean sheets, feel free to use the shower if you need to clean up.”

“Thanks for that,” she said, her hand finding his. “You didn’t have to pull out.”

He shrugged because it seemed like basic decency to him. “I figured you were probably on something, but it felt rude to assume.”

“I am, on something I mean.” Karen sat up on the bed and now he wished for some light so he could see her a little better. “Was this a one-time thing, Frank? Take the comfort offered?”

Frank put his fingers around her arm and drew her forward so he could kiss her, tried to keep it soft and warm even though he was rarely either of those things. He’d try to be that, and so much more for her. “You have never been a one-time thing for me, Karen. And thank you.”

She didn’t pretend not to know what he was talking about, “I’m glad I could be here for you. I hate the idea of you having to go through this alone.”

“It doesn’t happen as often as it used to,” Frank admitted. “But I’m glad you were here, too.”

Karen framed his face and kissed him. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”

Frank nodded and while she used the restroom he pulled off the now dirty sheets, thought about the fact if Karen was going to be there on the regular he should invest in something better. “I’m impressed you have spare sheets,” Karen said from the doorway.

She was still naked except for the bralette, and now that the lights were on he could see every bit of perfection.

“Goddamn, you’re beautiful.”

Her blush nearly covered her entire body even as she bent down to pick up her clothes and started redressing. “Thank you.”

“You’re not leaving are you?”

She laughed and finished pulling on her leggings, balling up her underwear and putting in her overnight bag. “No, I’ve just had enough bad shit happen to me I don’t like going to bed in clothes I can’t be interviewed by the police in. I don’t want to be jumped naked and unarmed.”

“Smart.” He’d pulled on his shorts and climbed into bed, Karen slipping under the sheets. “What time do have to be at work tomorrow?”

“I kind of come and go as I please, I don’t have a set schedule to be at the office. Why?”

Frank debated with himself before reaching over and pulling Karen against him, and he could feel her smile on his bare shoulder. “I was thinking we could get breakfast. I know this really great diner that recently remodeled after being shot up.”

Karen laughed, a bright, happy sound. “Maybe not there. The poor waitress would probably quit on sight.”

“Fair point. We’ll figure something out.”

She snuggled against him, her arm draped across his stomach. “We always do.”

[winchester-with-wings]

Best $20 Ever Spent (Peter Parker x Reader)

Requested on Tumblr by @book-loving--anime-chick with the prompts:  

Catch me if you can!

Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night

Give it back!

Word Count: 1500ish

Summary: You and Peter work at the local movie theater but sometimes have a little too much fun so you don't get scheduled together very often.

Posted this on my Patreon back on the 15th! If you want teasers and early access to my fanfics, consider becoming a Patron! I have 3 tiers at 3, 5, and 10

The managers were seriously considering no longer scheduling you two together.

Even if you asked to work on a Wednesday night for a completely different reason, they were inclined to reject it.

“Peter works that night.”

“So?”

“You distract him from his work,” they’d say.

Sure, you two were best friends and had fun working at the local movie theater but you didn’t really see it that way. The closing duties always got done properly. What does it matter if you had a few laughs and breaks to talk while doing it?

Maybe they saw something you didn’t? Maybe they were listening to you and your best friend Cali gossip about the crew and the rumors about who had crushes on who. You’d hoped that the managers were smart enough to keep the gossip to themselves too. Hopefully, they wouldn’t tell Peter that you had a crush on him.

No. If anything, they were inclined to keep you apart for efficiency. They had to do that with a lot of people too, schedule those who work best together and those that don’t get along or perhaps get along too well…

But they hadn’t officially said no to you and Peter working together all the time. If they had, they wouldn’t have allowed Peter to swap shifts with Ned on Sunday night.

Peter was a tease. He loved riling you up and messing with you. His proudest accomplishment was hiding in an auditorium, waiting in the dark for a solid 5 minutes until he could jump out and scare you. The boy was actually laying on the carpeted ground hiding behind the reclining chairs!

This is probably the perfect example of how you two didn’t work well together.

He probably should’ve been somewhere else doing his job but instead he’d disappeared and gone radio silent, the managers were literally calling for him over the radio and he wasn’t answering.

You were actually doing your job! Ushering the auditorium and picking up trash.

“Y/N!” He jumps out and shouts your name.

“AHH! Peter!” You shout right back at him, throwing an empty cup at his face before collapsing to the ground and covering your face. Your fight or flight complex was actually fight, flight, or fall. “Peter!” You squeal rolling on the ground and laughing. “You almost scared the pee out of me!” Peter hops over the reclining chairs with ease and tries to help you up.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps between his own laughing.

“No, you’re not.”

“You should’ve seen your face!” His laughing is renewed while you get back to work, finishing the auditorium. He’s kind--or perhaps guilty enough--that he helps you by wiping down the recliners.

Later in your shift, you’re texting Cali and telling her about Peter’s latest shenanigans.

“I think he likes you,” she suggests for the thousandth time.

“Nooo he’s just a pain in the ass. He annoys everyone. He’s like that with everyone. It has nothing to do with me,” you respond.

“Don’t put yourself down like that! I really think Peter likes you! You should tell him how you feel!”

“I can’t tell Peter that I like him like that! Then it really will be impossible to work with him. It’ll make it hard to work here and then I’ll have to quit…”

In his typical, annoying fashion, Peter grabs your phone the moment you’re about to set it down. No one’s phone is safe around him. But you hadn’t locked your phone in time either!

“Pete! No!”

“Give it back Peter,” the manager says from their position at Guest Services. He doesn’t listen to them. It was all part of the routine.

“Whoya textin?” he asks, getting ready to scroll through your messages. “Cali?”

“No! Peter, give it back!”

It’s probably a good thing that the theater is absolutely dead on a Sunday night.

“Who does Cali have a crush on? You guys talking about boys?” He wiggles his shoulders and smirks at you. You lunge at him, trying to get your phone back. He dodges you.

“Catch me if you can!”

You engage in a game of cat and mouse running around the theater lobby. He holds it high above his head. You can’t reach it. You pinch his sides and he giggles. Catching him off balance, you two become tangled on the floor in front of your coworkers and manager. Everyone seems to be getting a laugh out of it, including the two of you. But the fact that he still has your phone unlocked and is still trying to read your text messages has your heart racing for a completely different reason. He can’t see those texts! He can’t find out like this!

A guest walks up to box office. You coworker goes back to their position. The manager leaves guest services to come mediate and separate the two of you before making a scene in front of the customers.

“Peter, give it back,” the manager says in their authoritative tone. The managers are usually fun and happy but they’re willing to lay down the law when things get out of hand. Just in time too. Peter scrolls for .5 seconds and then hands over your phone. You lock it right away but you also have no idea what he’s seen.

Your shift ends at midnight. The rest of the night was nice and uneventful with less hijinks from Peter but still fun conversations about friends, school, and summer plans.

Peter has your number. You text quite often too. But never at 2 am when you’re both so obviously tired from working late.

Your phone screen lights up and the vibrations of it on your nightstand wakes you up.

“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever spent $20 on?”

“Well hello to you too,” you text back.

“...” He actually took the time to send those three dots. “So what is it? Or better yet, what’s the best $20 you ever spent?”

“Uh...my iridescent hombre metal water bottle…” It’s probably not the right answer but it’s all you can think of. You and Cali both bought one on a day off at the mall and kept getting them mixed up so they have stickers on them now to tell them apart. “Now stop texting me weird things so late at night. Lol.”

“Don’t you wanna know my answer?”

“Uh sure.”

“Tonight.”

“??”

“I paid Ned $20 to swap shifts with me so I could work with you.”

That stumps you. What does that mean? Why would he do that? Yeah, you guys had fun working together but you could hang outside of work too. You saw each other at school too. So...why would he do that?

“Lol wtf why?” you send that after realizing you’d left him on “read” for about two minutes when normally you guys respond within seconds.

“Because I wanted to work with you tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to see you…”

“Why?”

Then your phone rings. It scares you. Enough that you drop your phone on your face.

“Hello?” you whisper, rubbing your nose. You fluff up your pillow so you’re sitting up in bed, fully awake now. It’s quiet on the other end. “Peter, I swear to god if you’re outside my window and are going to scare me, please don’t,” you beg. You chuckle when you finally hear Peter on the other end chuckling too. “Why are you calling me? What is this all about?”

“Y/N,” he says you name.

“Peter?” you say his name with the intent to make it sound awkward.

“What if I told you that I liked you?”

“Wh--” he cuts you off.

“That I bribed Ned to switch shifts with me so that I could work with you. So I could see you. So I could spend time with you. Because I…” he sighs, “because I like you, ya’know, like that?”

“Um...Peter…” you’re pretty sure your heart has stopped. You’re praying this isn’t one of his pranks. Peter is an annoying dweeb but he wouldn’t do that, right? That’d just be cruel.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Um...I might’ve read your texts to Cali.”

“Oh.”

“Do you really like me?” he asks. You don’t answer him right away, making him stew in the uncomfortable silence. “Y/N?”

“I mean, yeah, Pete. I like you. We’re friends.”

“But do you like me? Like enough to date me?”

“Oh um...yeah...I guess.” Peter sighs. Relieved? Happy? You’re not sure. Peter chuckles. You can imagine him running his fingers through his curly brown hair, the same way he does it when he finds that he’s passed a spanish test.

“So,” he sounds smug all of the sudden like he’s smirking at the phone. “Do you wanna go out sometime?”

“Pretty sure I just answered that.”

“But I wanna hear you say it,” Peter teases. You roll your eyes.

“Yes, Peter, I would like to go out with you. But first you have to answer one question.”

“Shoot.”

“How long have you liked me?”

“Oh, yeah...um...it’s gonna sound bad. But, uh, I kinda called dibs the first day you ever worked at the theater. And I’ve been bribing Ned for shifts every couple of weeks too.”

“Oh my god,” you giggle.

“Yeah, pretty silly huh?”

“No. It makes sense. But you know...once we’re dating, management is definitely not going to let us work together anymore.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to go on a bunch of dates.”

tagging: @faithtrustandpixiedust95 @thinkwritexpress-official @autoblocked @book-loving--anime-chick @abbessolute @overlyobsethed @bookworm4ever99 @whoopxd @therealcap @geeksareunique @potterwolf16 @frankie2902 @ravenhaviland @starksparker @gracehappyfeet @softdudebro @blckthrns 

[birooksun]

An Angel Like You Pt. 3

Read on AO3! (Part 1) (Part 2)

The next morning when you woke up you felt achy again. You frowned as you tried to stretch your aching muscles and massage your thighs. You quickly dressed and walked into the living room to see Connor sitting on the couch with his eyes closed and his LED a soft blinking yellow. He opened his eyes and turned to you with a smile, “Good morning y/n, I trust you slept well?” You gave a quick nod and scurried into the kitchen to start making some breakfast.

Connor followed behind you, giving a soft smile as he brushed your hair behind your ear. You couldn’t help the small flinch that came from the unexpected contact. As you dropped your eyes to the toaster instead of him you missed the frown that crossed his face. He wanted to make you feel completely safe around him, make it so you leaned into his touch instead of flinching away.

You glanced up at Connor, wondering what he was doing during the night. Then you wondered if androids even had a sleep mode? The toast popped up and you jumped at the sound as your hand jumped up by your throat. “Is everything alright y/n?” Connor’s question surprised you a little, but you did just jump at nothing.

You gave a small smile, shifting your hand to play with your collar instead of just hovering to block your throat. “Sorry, just- lost in thought for a moment.” Connor moved over to the small table as you buttered your toast and sat down with your drink. “Just wondering- do androids have a sleep mode?” He gave a small frown and tilted his head just slightly as he thought about it. You resisted the urge to giggle at how cute he looked right then.

“Some do, as one designed specifically for police work I do not require sleep. I can go into a rest mode if I choose to, but otherwise no. I do not have a sleep mode.” You just nodded in response. He had said he didn’t require sleep yesterday. You slowly ate your toast, wondering when he would leave- should you tell him to leave? Maybe Hank was going to pick him up, they were cops, it wasn’t like Connor could just take today off or something. You were pulled from your thoughts when Connor sat up straighter and his LED blinked yellow for a moment.

He turned to you with a soft smile. “Hank if on his way to the station, he’s picking me up.” You gave a small smile as he got up from the table and put on his shoes. You hadn’t even noticed he had them off. He paused before turning to you, “Y/N, may I ask a question?” You gave a half shrug in response. “How do you own a house? Someone of your age with a house in this economy seems a bit difficult to believe.”

You gave a small laugh, “It used to be my grandma’s and she left it to me when she died. We were kinda the last ones around so I guess she just wanted to make sure I’d always have a home.” You both turned to the door at the sound of someone knocking, probably Hank. Connor went and answered the door. Hank was standing in the doorway when you followed after Connor.

“Everything went alright?” He looked between the both of you, a smile on his face. “Come on Connor, let’s go.” Connor turned towards you, he seemed to be debating something before he just reaching over and squeezing your hand. You didn’t know how to react like that, instead just watching him walk out the door with Hank.

You doubled checked the door was locked then went back to your room to collect laundry. You felt proud of yourself, even remembering to grab the laundry in your bathroom. While laundry was being done you sat in front of the tv and started up your console, ready to play some games. Once the laundry was ready to be folded you turned off your game, put on a movie and folded while watching it.

Later that night you were preparing dinner for yourself, debating if you should join some of your coworkers out for drinks or not. A few more texts and you relented to joining them once you finished dinner. You had to laugh at one of your friends insiting they would come over early to make sure you were dressed nice. You knew they just wanted to steal some food.

A knock at the door startled you, but thankfully you managed not to drop your food. “Hey y/n!” You gave a sigh of relief at the sound of her voice. You quickly went to open the door. “Smells good. You’re not going out in that right?” You looked down at your eans, and loose shirt. “Just ‘cause some of us are hoping to catch a guy doesn’t mean we want them to ignore you!” She paused and made a motion with her hands to signal rewinding. “Wait. I just heard what I said. You’re pretty but we want you to still stand out! There! That sounded better.” You just shook your head at your friend’s antics and let her in.

The two of you ate and then you rinsed off the dishes and put them in the dishwasher to wash later. “Alright, alright. Let’s have you poke and prod at my closet.” You sighed as your friend led you into your room. You sat down on the bed as she did rifle through your closet. “I don’t have very many clothes your style. I’m frumpy and a plain Jane.” You shrugged and turned your face to the door. You didn’t want to see her reaction.

You didn’t expect her to give such a loud one though. “Bullshit. Plain Jane my ass! You’re beautiful and anyone who tells you otherwise can fuck off!” You laughed and shook your head. “Yeah I’m a girly girl but you’re still pretty. Just a natural pretty. Which makes it so much more fun when we blow everyone's socks off tonight!” She pulled out a dress from your closet and tossed it at you, “Try.” then she darted back in to see if there were other options. You quickly undressed and began to pull the dress on, pausing when you realized it was one with a low back and you had to remove your bra. You quickly tossed that off and resumed pulling the dress on. You tugged the bottom of the dress a bit lower, you never felt confident in a mini dress but when you were thinner it used to go halfway to your knees.

She came back out the closet holding a skirt and stopped to whistle. “Oh no, that is what you’re wearing. Damn you have legs for days in that dress!” You felt yourself flush at the attention. “Please tell me you have heels to go with it?”

You shrugged and looked under your bed, tossing a shoe behind you at your friend when she whistled. “You’re not allowed to bend over tonight, that’s for sure! Also don’t you have any sexy underwear?”

“Fine, you look for shoes under there.” You scooted back and went into the closet, closing the door behind you to search for nice underwear. You found a pair of black lace hip huggers and switched those for your plain cotton ones. A small part of you wondered if you really were attractive, and another part drifted to the dreams you’d had involving Connor the past two nights and what he would think of seeing you dressed like that. You quickly pushed down the thoughts and stepped out of the closet to see your friend sitting on the bed holding two pairs of heels.

“Strappy or clunky?” She held out each as she looked you over. “Strappy would look better on your legs, and if you drink too much one of us can always lend an arm.” She nodded and held out the strappy heels to you. You just smiled and sat down next to her and put the heels on. “Look at you girl!”

You rolled your eyes at her and picked up a purse to put your phone, keys, and wallet in. “Come on, I’m sure everyone’s already on the first round.” You glanced at your phone, wondering if anyone had texted you. You froze at the text from an unknown number. I hope you had a pleasant day today y/n.

You didn’t respond to it, you weren’t going to. You weren’t sure who sent it but a shiver ran down your spine regardless. The two of you left and you made sure the door was locked before climbing into the cab with your friend. The two of you walked into the bar everyone else was at to see them sitting at a large table. You didn’t notice the man and android at the bar. He turned and his eyes traced over you, from the sparkle in your eyes as you laughed at your friend’s jokes to the bottom of your dress that just hugged every curve and rode up slightly when you would walk.

His eyes drank you in as he watched you stroll up to the bar, he felt envious of the android who was holding your arm. “You know you don’t need to walk up with me just to the bar Rupert.” Your teasing tone drew a smile out of the other android. Connor started to stand up to go over to you but a gentle hand on his arm made him pause.

He turned to see Hank pulling back his arm and taking a sip of his drink. “Hold your horses Connor. Girls don’t like when a guy gets all clingly over them. She’s with her friends and enjoying a night out. He’s probably their DD and right now trying to make sure she doesn’t fall over in those heels.” Connor felt himself get angry at the way Hank leaned back to look at your backside. “Man if I were 20 years younger.”

“She’d still be out of your league Hank.” The words came out of Connors mouth before he could stop himself. Hank let out a loud laugh instead of feeling insulted about the comment.

“Hank? Connor?” Your voice carried and the two of you turned to see Hank and Connor at the other end of the bar. Rupert recognized the two of them and with a quiet word in your ear slipped back to the table. He tried to hide in with your coworkers and kept an eye on Connor. You grabbed your drink from the bartender, handing him your card to keep your tab open and walked over to them. “How’s everything?” You took a sip and tried to keep down your blush as you felt Connor’s eyes traveling over you.

Hank slapped Connor’s arm to get him to stop staring. “Well I know his night has improved seeing you. You doing alright kid?” You nodded and looked back to your coworkers.

They were waving and a few lifted up their glasses in a mock toast. You returned the gesture and sipped your drink. “I should get back to my friends.” You paused before finishing your first drink and asking the bartender for another.

As you waited you gave a small smile to the two of them and started to turn away. Connor reached out and grabbed your wrist. Unfortunately for you, sudden turns or sudden stops were not great in high heels. You stumbled and fell into his chest as he moved to keep you from falling. You looked up at him from where he had caught you against his chest. After what felt like too long he let go of you and you stepped back, brushing your hands down your dress to make sure it hadn’t ridden up. You flipped off whichever of your coworkers had whistled in response. “Y/N? Is there a chance you're available Friday night?” You looked at him for a moment in confusion before he clarified, “I mean, would you be available to go out on a date with me?”

“Oh.” The small exclamation left your mouth in surprise. “Uh, I guess so? I mean, yes. Yes I am available for a date.” You quickly took your drink and turned to rush back to your friends. Several of them were squealing with joy. You wanted to pour your drink on them, but that would be a waste of alcohol you now really felt you needed. “Tell me that didn’t just happen Tiff.”

The woman in question gave a low laugh as she patted you on the shoulder. “That happened. You just got asked out on a date. Not only that, you- Miss ‘I don’t think I’m attractive, y’all are just blind’ accepted that date.” You gave a weak smile as several coworkers patted you on the back and you brushed them off.

You glanced over at Hank and Connor, Hank was watching a basketball game playing on the screen behind the bar and Connor was looking at you again. You turned back to your friends and joined in on their conversations, missing the dark looks Rupert was giving Connor. After an hour Hanks’s game ends and he leaves with Connor. Hank pats you on the shoulder as he leaves. “Make sure you get home safe kid.” You stood up and gave him a hug, thanking him and giving a smile to Connor. You watched the two of them leave and resumed your night out with your friends. An hour later everyone was starting to call it a night and your head was spinning as you regretted having so much to drink. It felt like all of them had bought you at least one drink. As everyone started to pile into cabs you assured Rupert you would grab the next one before going back in to use the restroom.

You went back outside to see all your friends had left already, and all the cabs were gone. One of the self driving cars pulled up and someone inside rolled the window down. You could hear Connor’s voice. “Y/N, get in. I’ll give you a ride home.” You didn’t question why he didn’t come into view, you just climbed in the car and was glad he came back. You were too drunk to question how he knew you were just leaving the bar.

As you sat down in the car and leaned your head against the window he put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you against his chest. You tried to push away from him, but he held you firm and pulled you in a position to rest your head under his chin. You tried to push away his hands trailing up and down your leg before he put your hands on his chest and pinned them there with one hand. The other still trailing up and down your body. “Your so beautiful y/n. You look so sexy like that.” You struggled against him when you felt his hand slipping under your dress. “No no, you don’t get to dress like that for me and expect me not to do anything, can you?” He kept your hands trapped as he pulled you up for a kiss.

You had thought he was kind, that he was sweet and caring. Instead you could feel your teeth clicking against his, feel how he was forcing his tongue into your mouth as he turned you around and pinned you to the seat with his body. You felt repulsed as he pushed up your dress, his long thin fingers tracing over your underwear. “Let me go Connor! Stop please!” You knew your words were slurred as you tried to push him away. He didn’t budge until the car stopped. Then he got off of you, straightened up both your clothing and guided you out of the car as if nothing happened.

You felt ready to run, but a quick glance around let you realize this wasn’t your neighborhood. In fact it seemed to be somewhere you didn’t recognize at all. Connor wrapped an arm around your shoulders and with an iron grip guided you into a house. The outside looked condemned. The inside though, that made you want to scream. It didn’t match the outside. It looked pristine, and as you looked at the wall you realized they had soundproofing. You hadn’t realized he let go of you until you heard the lock clicking shut behind you. Then he placed a hand on your lower back and guided you further into the house.

He led you into a bedroom and you froze. He applied more force before pushing you in. “There’s clothes for you in the closet. You should get changed.” He shut the door behind you and you gave a sigh of relief. You decided it would be better to play along for now and went over to the closet. You felt your heart sink as you looked at nothing but lingerie. You saw a long slip dress mixed in and grabbed that to wear. It might still be slinky and much different from what you usually wore to sleep in, but it wasn’t sheer or as revealing as the others. You walked over to the door and checked it, swearing under your breath when didn’t budge. It was locked from the outside. Not sure what to do you sat down on the bed. After 10 minutes you laid down and passed out.