#i was giving real reactions flopping around and talking to my phone

[mandalhoerian]

I've read this a while ago and I FINALLY have time to gush about it like oh my god OH MY GOD

READER, SWEETIE I JUST WANT TO

i've only ever seen this type of denial in Sylus who was terrorizing MC when they first met and going "haha we're just simulating she'll be fine" .

I can analyze her down to the bits I know she's running away from rejection, she's running away from affection, she thinks she doesn't deserve it therefore it can't be the case and she's got a coping mechanism and she'd rather pretend nothing happened forever than address anything but. BUT. GIRL IM BEGGING YOU, TALK TO SOMEONE. TALK. LET SOME THINGS OUT. IM HUGGING YOU BUT ALSO SOMETIMES YOU NEED TO SAY WHAT YOUR RIDICULOUS SELF-DEPRACATING AND SABOTAGING THINKING OUT LOUD TO **HEAR** THAT IT DON'T MAKE ANY SENSE . PETITION IN WHICH CALEB AND HER BECOME DERT ORTAĞI (COMPANIONS IN MISFORTUNE/FELLOW SUFFERERS/COMPANIONS/SHOULDERS TO CRY ON WHO SHARE THEIR WOES AND BECOME FRIENDS OVER IT IN TURKISH) OR ELSE IM GONNA PERSONALLY ISEKAI INTO THIS STORY AND SHAKE HER FROM THE SHOULDERS

Worst of all is that Sylus has no idea how bad she's got it in her head and can't accordingly comfort her, he's got the soft approach in the way that he doesn't want to pressure or overwhelm her but it's just. awkward and she's avoiding him and he doesn't know what's wrong because THEY JUST WONT FUCKING TALK TO EACH OTHER AND IM SO STRESSED OUT . THEY ARE STRESSING ME THE HELL OUT. MC WHYYYYYYYYYY DID YOU HAVE TO COME BACK AT THE WORST TIME EVER

CALEB BE AN INSTIGATOR AND FIX THIS RIGHT NOW . RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!

carpe noctem [ falling action ] | sylus

— summary: he kissed you. you pretend it didn’t mean anything. sylus tries to show you it meant everything. — cw: reader is not mc, language, sexual tension, self-loathing, mutual pining, jealousy, blood & violence, self-deprecating thoughts, profanity, misunderstandings, romance, self-indulgent, wild caleb sighting, mdni — notes: thank you @subliminalwish for inspiring this part! and thank you all for reading! [ pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 ] — now playing: fuel to fire - agnes obel btbt - b.i

Their timing couldn’t be more impeccable—the twins. Your saving grace.

Sylus is a tempest. A storm ravaging the rickety foundation of your boat. He kisses greedy. Commanding, sipping from you like a fountain amid a desert. Swallowing the gruff little keens you make. You burn hot wherever he touches. His hands are like branding irons on your skin, amplified by the thin taffeta of your dress as they smooth up and down the curvature of your waist.

You’re dizzy when he snatches away, a growl in his throat. His lips are kiss-swollen. Burn a pretty red, stained by your lipstick. His eyes smolder like embers through the living room’s haze. Catch in the moonlight, gleaming a potent shade of scarlet. He reminds you of something beastly. Predatory. 

You did this to him?

In contrast, you’re sludge in his hands, swimming, blinking, drunk, and trying to remember how to breathe. For a moment, he appears hesitant. Gaze flits between your eyes and mouth as he holds you by your hips. Rubs reassuring circles into your hip bones with his thumbs. He’s so pretty like this. Inebriated by passion, silken white hair mussed from your greedy fingers. Expensive, pleated shirt all rumpled, bow tie loosened, composure thrown to hell.

But his phone keeps ringing. An obnoxious chime that makes your lips quirk despite the vertigo sweeping over you. It cuts through the wispy film of the night. Cleaves through the nebulous cloud of desire hanging between you, and with a bitten-off sound, he finally tugs his cell free of his pocket. 

He watches you as he brings it to his ear. Cups your cheek, brushing over your bottom lip with the worn pad of his thumb. Tugs it down, entranced by its elasticity. It’s fullness. Your fingers clasp around his wrist. You nuzzle into the safety of his palm. Turn your mouth inward, blistering it with a kiss. Affection intermingled with amusement colors your eyes. He’s like a spoiled child, snatched off the playground before he was ready to leave.

“What,” he clips into the mic. 

A hesitant voice peers through the low static. Luke. “Mission accomplished, bossman.” You imagine Kieran peeking over his brother’s shoulder in the background, wariness hidden behind that gaudy bird mask. “All cleaned up over here.”

Sylus sighs something weighted. Shaky. Relieved. His shoulders drop with it, then tense again. The agitation doesn’t leave his face. Something’s on his mind. Something more pressing than a few ornery goons trying to hunt you down. You nip at his fingertips to assuage the divot forming between his brows. The taut pull of his lips. 

He hangs up without another word, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Draws you close, preparing to kiss you breathless once more. 

But it seems fate is a cruel, mischievous mistress, intervening when she deems it fit.

Because, this time, your phone rings. 

You stiffen. Sylus glowers at your—his—coat pocket. Studies you. He’s conflicted. Looks as if the world is descending into hell around him. Like he wants to take your phone and shatter it on the wall. You offer him a placating smile. Smooth a hand over his cheek before tugging your cell out. It’s only fair you leave him as on edge as he left you. 

He doesn’t let it deter him, pulling you impossibly closer. Peppers your neck with kisses, drawing a soft huff of laughter from your chest. Your head falls back, and he cradles it with his fingers, baring your throat to him. Groans something appreciative, writing the most beautiful compliments of all against your skin with his lips. 

You’re not thinking when you answer, too swept up in the moment. Dizzy from the needy drag of his lips over your carotid. Don’t think until a familiar lilt touches your ear, and a cold thrill shoots down your spine.

Little. Ms. Hunter. 

Fuck. 

Reality trickles in like the slow creep of a rainstorm, mooring you to the spot. You shove against Sylus’ chest. He ingests you with pinched brows, heavy lids, an open mouth. ‘What’s wrong?’ his expression reads. He’s desperate. Needy. Like you’re his lifeline, an IV drip.

You push against him again, chest so very hard and so wonderfully defined against the heel of your palm. You need space. You can’t breathe, but for an entirely different reason now. 

His hands reluctantly drop from your waist, falling listlessly at his sides. He turns away, rubbing the scruff of his neck with a sigh.

“What’s up?” you bite. Try to mask the waver of your voice, your quivering tendons. 

“Hey, how ya doin’?” She’s infuriatingly chipper. Happy for someone halfway across the world, as if she knows you’re up to no good. 

You don’t bother with pleasantries. You’re caught between wanting to laugh and cry. Damn the universe for spoiling your fun. “What do you need?”

The hunter’s hesitant for a beat. You envision her shifting her weight between her feet. Fiddling with her nails, her gaze cast to the floor. It’s not often you’re terse with her, at least not these days. You worked through those kinks of your relationship months back. But forgive you for being a little impatient. A little snippy when you finally satiated the ache between your teeth. 

“Sooo, I’m back earlier than expected. My ride cancelled on me. Would you mind picking me up from the airport? I’ll pay you back! Promise!” 

“You can’t catch a cab?” You push back your hair. Peer over your shoulder, hand cupped around the mic as if you’re whispering a secret. Sylus is behind you a little ways off, hand on hip; silhouette suffused in amber as he examines some picture frames on the sofa table, pretending not to eavesdrop.  

“Yeah, but it’s late! I don’t wanna get kidnapped, ya know?”

You suppress a frustrated sound, disbelieving. Not just of her, but the timing of everything. The reminder of what you’ve done and what you still want to do. One day, you’ll learn not to answer your phone. And one day, you’ll learn to tell your conscience to fuck right the hell off.

“Fine. Yeah, sure. Just…gimme a minute.”

“You’re the best! I don’t care what the twins say about you!” 

The call ends, and you sigh, leaning into your palm, propped against the frost-bitten windowpane. It grounds you in a way, its crispness a welcome contrast to your fevered skin. 

You jolt when Sylus emerges behind you in the form of artful hands melding to your waist. In the form of warm breath kissing the sensitive space behind your ear. His lips graze the shell of it. You snatch away as if scorched by fire, turning, spine acquainting itself with the window. Space. You need space. 

He gives you no time to breathe, spilling over you like liquid fire. Cages you in with his arms. Angles closer, swaddling you in the dangerous warmth of his body. Bathes you in the bewitching scent he carries, in the lazy, lust-laden stir of his eyes. You shirk away from his touch when his fingertips graze your cheek. He bristles.

Your heart pinches at the wounded look on his face. At how his fingers twitch before curling into a loose fist and falling back to his side. You duck away from him, a nervous smile dragging itself across your face. 

“She’s back,” you state plainly. It tastes bitter, acknowledging it aloud. Your belly swoops. You think you might be sick. “Asked if I could pick her up.”

His expression slackens. Gaze descends to the floor. “This late?”

You nod solemnly. 

Shouldn’t he be happy his Aphrodite has returned?

It’s unnervingly quiet between you now, making way for the whisper of the wind threading through the leaves outside where the sticky click of your lips and labored breaths once lived. 

Your throat clicks when you swallow. You want nothing more than to pull him against you again, to be wrapped in the possessive circle of his arms. To pick up where you left off before morality leaked in. But that call served as your reality check, and you’re both grateful and resentful it came when it did.

Sylus beholds you with beseeching eyes. Looks as if he might protest, lips quivering around an excuse to draw you back in. But he drops it. Instead, he opts for, “I’ll bring the car around,” sounding so uncharacteristically somber that you wince. 

He brushes past you through the front door, swallowed by the dust-speckled night. Leaves you to nurse the violent thrum of your heart and battle the maelstrom in your head. 

She’s back. Things will return to normal. This moment never happened. This night never happened. 

Still, your lips burn with the remnants of the kiss. You unconsciously touch the trembling, distended things, deciding to tuck the memory into the furthest hulls of your mind. 

He’s not yours, remember? Never will be. Never could be.

—

The ride to the airport was uncomfortably tense. 

Sylus tried vainly to reignite the flames sparked by the night—little displays of affection, possession. Spindly fingers curling around your thigh, a peek at you through the corner of his vision, knuckles deftly brushing your cheek to bring you back to the present. 

You inched away from his touch despite every synapse in your brain screaming for you to let it happen. He gave up after the third try. Gripped the gear stick, white-knuckled and radiating a silent dejectedness. 

You forced out a shaky breath when the overwhelmingly bright, fluorescent airport signs panned into view. 

“Heya!” chirped Ms. Hunter, pulling you into a tight hug once you dismounted the car. “You look all fancy. What have you been up to?”

You were stiff in her embrace, a tight smile pulling at your lips. She smelled of stale perfume and wet earth. Long hair tickled your neck. She radiated a warmth you envied as you rigidly returned the hug.

“Oh, you know. Nefarious things and all that.”

Ms. Hunter drew back, hands roosted on your shoulders. Her smile faltered when she got a good look at you. When the driver’s door slammed shut, and Sylus rounded the car to stand behind you, hands stuffed in his pockets. Her honey-dipped eyes flit over your face. She sensed something was up. Of course, she did. Anyone within a 50-mile radius could see the tension dangling off your shoulders. She looked like she wanted to interrogate you, but—

“Welcome back,” said Sylus, his tone easy. You were thankful for the save. Didn’t have to look back to know he was wearing that familiar cant to his lips. A look he, until tonight, only wore for her. “I take it your mission went well, given how early you returned.” 

You would've tasted the faint notes of indignation there had you not been so swept up in your head. 

“You have no idea,” she laughed, exhaustion lancing through her words. You pat her head, fondly ruffling her hair. 

He helped her put her suitcase in the trunk as she animatedly regaled the details of her mission. He smirked and nodded, listening intently. You tuned everything out in favor of listening to your pulse drum beneath your skin. 

Sylus held the passenger door open, watching you expectantly. Signaled for you to get in with his eyes as Ms. Hunter stood awkwardly behind you. The tension was tangible. Obvious. It made you sick.

He frowned when you forwent the passenger seat, sliding into the back. The front seat was always her place. You were merely squatting there, keeping the leather warm in her absence. You caught sight of the tense set of his jaw when he shut the door behind her. Your heart sank to your feet. 

As Sylus eased the car onto the highway, they filled the stiff, blue-light-tinged air with small talk. Their conversation was seamless as if no time had lapsed between them. You propped an elbow on the door, watching the scenery fly by in a blur beyond your window. 

And you shut your eyes against those scarlet irises occasionally observing you in the rearview mirror, a silent question brewing beneath bowed lashes.

‘Have I done something wrong?’

No. Never. It’s you who’s royally fucked up.

—

“Listen, sweetheart. You both seem like nice girls. But I ain’t budgin’.”

You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time. Scoff, a rigid set between your teeth. You’ve been like this for what feels like hours, propped against a wall, arms crossed, mind tumultuous. 

A few days after the hunter returned, Sylus sent his two gems to reclaim some of his property. Thelma and Louis at it again. 

You should be thrilled. You’ve been itching for a distraction since that night. When you let your emotions overwhelm you, and you gave into your selfish little whims. You can’t focus on much else, the pressure of Sylus’ lips still ingrained in your mind. The texture of his shirt sleeves between your fingers, the sound of his voice as he rasped his satisfaction into your skin. It replays like torn film reels in your mind, refusing to release you from its flimsy clutches. 

Since that night, he’s been uncharacteristically attentive. Filling the space with errant touches and lingering gazes. Rare quirks of his lips, an affectionate, secretive undernote to his timbre whenever he speaks to you. And his eyes. They bear more emotion than what you’re accustomed to seeing. 

It’s all been so very confusing, this new attitude of his. You don’t like it when things aren’t clear-cut and dry. Hate to beat around the bush.

You figured his attention would shift with the center of his universe back in rotation. 

To your chagrin and surprise, you’re wrong. You assume he’s only being so disarming because he needs you. Not just as his pretty little violent marionette. His honeypot. When Ms. Hunter inevitably leaves again—the life of a hunter must be so taxing—he’ll need someone to fall back on. A failsafe to keep his loneliness at bay. You just so happen to fit the bill.

The notion makes you scowl. The butcher’s voice isn’t helping curb your vexation, his laughter obnoxious and filled with phlegm. His fat ass isn’t taking either of you seriously. Of course, if you were him, you wouldn’t, either. 

Ms. Hunter’s been at this for a while, playing good cop to your bad. Trying to nice her way into getting him to sign the deed to his property back to Sylus. Really, it belongs to the latter man. He was just allowing the butcher to squat here while he carried out his work for Onychinus, slaughtering its opposition and packaging up their remains like fresh meat, shipping them off to anyone who dared utter the organization’s name in vain.

His use has run its course. He’s grown sloppy. Complacent. Disloyal. Been letting other faction leads buy him off, selling his knack of butchering to the highest bidder. He should be so lucky you’re not here to slit his throat.

Inwardly, you wonder if someday, you’ll suffer the same fate. If Ms. Hunter will be sent to snuff you out—your successor wiping you off the map like a blip on the radar. 

Until then, you’ll make yourself as indispensable as possible. Prove your worth. 

You push off the wall with a huff, face set with determination as adrenaline spumes through you. You close the distance between you and the hunter in four brisk strides. Snatch her pistol from the holster at her waist, barring her sentence in her throat. It’s weighted. Loaded. Good. 

You rack a round. Release the safety. The butcher barely has time to register anything before you aim. Inhale. Exhale. Pull the trigger at the lowest lull of your breath. And it’s so gratifying, the sound of a bullet whizzing past his ear and embedding itself in the plaster behind him. 

He’s petrified with fright behind his desk, mouth hinged open. Ms. Hunter blurs into focus beyond the front sight, turning incredulous eyes on you before narrowing them. The barrel’s still smoking, a satisfying, wispy cloud furling skyward. The leather grip squeaks in your hand, you’re holding it so tight. 

“Was that really necessary?” she berates. She’s doing that whisper-yelling thing. You’re in for an earful later. 

You shrug half-heartedly, reholstering her weapon. Push past, tugging the sleeves of your blazer up. “I’ve had enough of this,” you grate, snatching your leather gloves from your pocket and slipping them on with practiced precision. 

Neither of them knows what’s coming until you step behind the butcher. Until you’ve taken a fistful of sweaty, grease-slicked hair and acquainted his face with the bubbling finish of his desk with a loud thwack!

Ms. Hunter watches the scene unfold with horror twisting up her features. She’s rooted to the spot. Something plops on the desk. Evolves into a steady, sticky drip. Blood. Corrupted speckles of red staining the deed you’re meant to get signed. 

You lock eyes with your partner, bending at the waist over the butcher’s shoulder, grip unyielding on his hair. A show of power. Dominance, meant to convey, ‘This is how it’s done.’

A smirk twitches onto your lips. Your mouth brushes the outer shell of his ear, voice coming out deceptively doting. “Sign the fucking paper, or I’ll string you up like one of your little pigs and turn you into dog shit.”

His voice is wet. Strained, unflattering streaks of crimson leaking from his nose to puddle on the desk. “But—”

The hunter winces when you slam his face down again. He’s disoriented now. Swaying. If not for your iron grip on his hair, he’d fall into the arms of unconsciousness. 

“Okay, okay!” he relents, garbled and wet. 

You release his hair, shoving at his head none-too-gently, a facsimile of a smile rounding your lips. Perch a hand on his shoulder, squeezing with enough coercion to remind him of your potency. “Pleasure doing business with you, old man.”

The air thickens with fear. It’s quiet, save for the scratch of the butcher’s pen, as he shakily scrawls his signature on the deed, relinquishing his shop back to Sylus. You scrutinize the blood-flecked paper, satisfied. 

“I’ll give you until midnight to get the fuck out of here,” you casually say, snatching off your gloves to smooth out the lapels of your blazer. “Otherwise, I can’t guarantee your safety after.”

You leave the butcher to nurse a broken nose and a nasty headache, pushing past Ms. Hunter with a cocksure grin. 

“What the hell was that?!” she squeaks, rushing to keep pace with you as you step into the warm atmosphere outside, walking towards the sleek outline of your SUV.

“Business.”

“Yeah, but…did you have to threaten him like that? I mean, you could’ve killed the guy!”

With a scowl, you snatch the passenger door open for her to get in. “If you have a problem with how I do things, maybe you’re not cut out for this life, sweetheart.”

She scoffs disbelievingly. Haughty as she plops down on the passenger seat, crossing her arms. You’re being more venomous than usual. More pushy. You’re too far gone. You’ll apologize for making her your punching bag later. 

“What’s up with you?” she pressures once you’ve settled on the driver's side, discarding your gloves in the center console. Leans closer, squinting. You ease back. “You’ve been more bitchy than usual. You and Sylus have been acting weird.” 

She’s closer now, bursting your metaphorical bubble. Dangerously perceptive. You avoid eye contact as if doing so will reveal all the contents of your mind. Not that you have to. She’s alarmingly observant for someone who acts so naive. 

“Did something happen between you?”

You side-eye her as you start the engine, unknowingly confirming her suspicions. She quirks a brow, catching onto your game. Falls back against the leather of her seat to sulk over folded arms. “I knew it. Unbelievable. Didn’t I tell you to play nice while I was gone?!” 

“I’m always nice,” you counter under your breath, glaring at the console screen as you back up the SUV. 

The steering wheel scrubs between your hands after you shift to Drive, and as you slide the vehicle into the steady stream of traffic, you catch sight of the blood mottling the cuff of your sleeve, begging to differ. 

Maybe you’re being more ornery than you think.     

— 

The base is a network of paneled walls and glittering floors. Had you not been well-versed with its layout, you would surely get lost. But you’ve been here too many times. Once slept between these walls, laughed with the twins, and shared a glass of wine or two with your boss. 

Sometimes, he’d let you lie in his bed when your head was too fuzzy, and you couldn’t stop smiling after the wine left you tenuous and dazed. Nothing ever happened, much to your dismay. He was a gentleman through and through. And you never questioned him on why it was always his bed.

Things changed once Ms. Hunter entered the scene. 

This place used to be your asylum. Your respite from a world so vapid. For a moment, you could pretend the blood caked beneath your nails didn’t exist. And you could pretend you weren’t a weapon to be used at your employer’s disposal. But these days, you’ve avoided his mansion like a sickness, instead retreating to your own place in the city. You’re impeding. These walls no longer welcome you. 

You feel like a specter with unresolved conflict as you round the hall where Sylus’ study sits at its center. Your heart hurls itself against your rib cage. You’ve been distant since that night, shying away from his attempts to disarm you. All half-hearted ventures to keep you dangling on a frayed string until he next needs you to fill the void the hunter inevitably leaves. 

You tamp down your anxiety when the cool steel of the door handle bites into your palm. The voice inside is muffled. Deep. Resonant. Sylus is talking business. Orchestrating things that don’t concern you until he makes them your problem. You’ll be quick. Don’t want to stick around longer than necessary.  

Pushing open the heavy mahogany wood, you’re greeted by a shock of white nestled behind his desk. He’s on the phone. Looks up upon your entry, scarlet eyes narrowing, then softening with recognition. Your throat thickens.

You try to ignore how his look makes your stomach somersault. How every crevice of his office smells like him—bourbon, raw energy, and all things safe. You’re thrown back into the memory of that dusky night. The seal of his lips to yours, his fingers easing over the contours of your body like points on a star map.

Ignoring your thoughts, you conquer the distance between the door and his desk in measured strides, looking everywhere but at him. It’s too risky to maintain eye contact. He has a hold on you without trying. Without the straggly pull of his Evol, without the smoky compulsion of his voice. 

You plant the deed on the desk’s center with a muted thunk. His fingertips brush your knuckles, over the clutch of your hand. Static radiates between you. You reel back quicker than you mean to, bereft of the roughened slide of his fingers. Clear your throat, straighten your jacket. There’s a pinch between his brows, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. 

Sylus peers down at the paper, an inquisitive brow lifting at the oxidized brown dappling it. You give him a half-hearted shrug. You did your part. How you got there is a story for another day.

You don’t wait for him to dismiss you, wordlessly stepping away with a curt nod. He continues his conversation over your shoulder, and your body swells with relief. It’s short-lived when Ms. Hunter brushes past you on your way out of the door, tight-lipped and side-eyeing you with all the vexation of the world. 

Before you leave, you wait for the door to click shut behind you, catching wind of the hunter’s ire before thick layers of wood distort it. 

“Hang up the phone. We need to talk. Now.”

—

It’s a pleasure to dance. To forget yourself. 

Lux is lively tonight. Colored with mirth and strobing lights. Pounding music. You feel it in your chest as you move, a seductive, rehearsed smile crooking your lips. You rake your fingers through your hair. Drag your hands down the sweep of your waist, swiveling your hips, playing up your allure. You don’t have to do much to garner attention—it’s your job, remember?

You peacock about in the white metal birdcage you're housed in. Grab the bars, grinning down at the writhing crowd. It was your idea to give Lux a little umph, sweet-talking Sylus into having massive bird cages mounted from the ceiling. Fitting, given his obsession with pretty caged things.

Lux’s theme is ever-changing, courtesy of your eccentric mind. It keeps people coming in droves. Forces his enemies to rear their hideous mugs, lured to the nightclub by the promise of pretty women. 

The air between you was still dense. Rife with pheromones and unbidden feelings. But you were back donning your playful, arrogant mask as if the night you shared never existed. Back to flirting and giving Sylus the piss. 

The large faux wings you wear are surprisingly light. Stark, like the beautiful white tiger lounging on one side of the cage. The Bengal tiger yawns wide, giving you a show of pointed teeth. Teeth that could easily rip you asunder, yet he’s as docile as a house cat when you bend to pet through soft tufts of white. 

He slow-blinks at you, his gorgeous eyes shining like emeralds uncovered in a cave. You smile as you smooth your thumb over his nose. A pink tongue darts out to lick your palm. He reminds you of yourself—capable of extreme violence, yet docile in patient hands.

Your skin prickles. You notice you’re being watched, but not in a way you’re used to. A way that typically exudes desire. 

You turn to ingest a set of galaxy-infused eyes watching you intently through the throng of people. Youthful pockets of fat hang beneath his lower lids. A dark sweep of hair, thick brows. He towers over the crowd, a distinct cutout of virility and shrouded intentions. You don’t recall ever seeing him before. 

When your gazes intermingle, he smiles something corrupted. It doesn’t reach his eyes. You’re all too familiar with that look—one of a predator scoping out its next meal. Prey it intends to take its time eviscerating, licking its bones clean.

You smile all the more wider, and you smooth your hands over your body, maintaining eye contact as you play up the theatrics. It’s ritualistic in a way, how you move. Like you’re provoking him. You don’t know who this man is, but he’s ballsy, stepping into your den, challenging you.  

You tear your eyes away when the door to your cage swings open behind you, rocking it slightly on its hinges. A sizable hand peers in. You glance out, met with a riotous mop of white. Sylus. Gaze half-slit, relaxed. 

“Take five,” he says above the thumping music. 

You peer over your shoulder while taking his hand. The stranger you earlier locked eyes with has vanished, almost as if he were never there. You don’t pursue it. Not now at least. You allow Sylus to coax you down from the cage via hands at your waist. Stumble into him once on the ground, the air siphoned from your lungs. You're dizzy and breathless, being so close. He’s warm, smells divine, and you feel safe. Your palms press against his chest, his fingers wrapped about the crooks of your elbows to steady you.

He studies you with a reverent gleam to his irises as if he intends to kiss you, uncaring of any witnesses. Any questions. You shake away the thought, remembering yourself—your stance in his life. You offer him half a smile before retreating past him to the private bar for a drink. Something to ease your nerves, to cool your fevered skin.

Sylus’ expression hardens behind you as he scrutinizes the space you once stared at yourself. You don’t see the tenebrous threads of his Evol pouring from his body, licking the air. Don’t feel his aura bleeding a quieted malice, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. 

— tags: @unknown-ends, @viqlume, @nicohii, @beewilko, @lunebulous, @subliminalwish, @emneedshelp, @inkonparchment, @snowfall-jess, @bingbongchu, @greeenbeean, @shiorihoshino, @sillyfreakfanparty, @glamouroki, @midiplier, @kiri-tuk, @delulusimps, @moonlight-inthe-sea

climax 2.0 | masterlist

[alwaysonthemend]

Carpe Noctem | JTK x Reader

Author’s Note: Naming this fic Carpe Noctem in honor of my new tattoo lol. The beginning of this fic is inspired by the shitty date that I went on last night... Unfortunately, Jake did not in fact sweep in to save the day but a girl can dream. I was complaining to @jakeyt and she had the wonderful idea to turn this into a fic so I hope you all enjoy! As always, apologies for any typos/mistakes

Word Count: 4979

Content Warnings: Fem!reader, terrible flirting (bc I can't flirt in real life either), oral (m and f rec), unprotected sex, edging, orgasm denial, p in v sex, slapping, sir kink, pirate kink? idk. 18 + MINORS DNI

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

You don’t think you’ve ever been on a date worse than the one you’re on right now – and you’ve been on some interesting ones in the past… But this guy just takes the cake. To begin with, he’d chosen a very expensive steak restaurant in East Nashville and while you’re not opposed to finer dining every now and again, this just seemed like overkill for a first date. 

But you’d agreed when the guy had suggested it and had proceeded to spend a far longer time than you’ll ever admit trying to pick out a nice outfit for the date; Time, you came to discover, which was totally wasted given that your date had shown up in basketball shorts and flip flops. And normally you wouldn’t give a damn about what someone else wanted to wear, but damn he could have at least tried a little bit – especially given the location.  

Still, you’d persisted and sat down with him – intent on giving him the benefit of the doubt. But he’d quickly let you down, launching into rant after rant about himself and all the amazing things he’s done and about all the places he’s traveled, hardly letting you get a word in edgewise. 

The few times that he did actually ask you about yourself, you could tell that he was only asking because he knows that he’s “supposed to.” Everything you said he just turned into another way to talk about himself, and it didn’t take you long before you just gave up on trying to say anything – choosing instead to just sit there quietly and let him go. 

By the time the bill was paid (at least he’d had the decency to pay for your meal), you were more than ready to get the hell out of there. You walked briskly to the door with your terrible date hot on your heels. 

“Y/n.” He said, turning to you as the two of you stepped outside onto the pavement. “I think this date went really well.”

You open your mouth to protest but he continues on, yet again preventing you from being able to say a fucking word. 

“I think we have a real connection, and… I think you should come back to my place tonight.” 

Your jaw drops at his audacity and you whip your head around to gape at him. Seeing your reaction, he’s quick to try and backpedal. 

“I don’t mean to presume, but-” 

“Oh would you just shut the fuck up? Please?” You bite out, and it’s his turn for his jaw to drop in shock. 

“Excuse me?” He asks, voice raising in volume. He looks so offended but you can’t find it in yourself to care. 

“All you talked about at dinner tonight was yourself, you hardly let me speak at all…” you gesture angrily towards his lower half, “you show up in fucking shorts and flip flops – and you have the audacity to ask me to come home with you?” 

You’re suddenly so angry you can barely think straight and his stupid face – gaping at you like a fish out of water, is only making it worse. 

“Well I’m sorry that I didn’t realize that you’re such a stuck up bitch.” He says angrily, glaring at you as you both stand there staring at each other. 

“Oh fuck you.” You say, whipping your phone out of your pocket to call an Uber. 

“You wish.” He snarks, turning to leave. 

As he passes you, he bumps his shoulder into yours, sending your phone flying from your grip and crashing to the ground. He keeps walking, not bothering to stop or to apologize. 

“Douchebag!” You call after him, huffing angrily as he climbs into his car without a second glance back. 

You sigh, turning your attention back to your phone lying face down on the concrete. Hopefully it’s not broken, because that would honestly just be the icing on the cake for your horrible night. 

Just as you're about to stoop down to grab it, another hand darts out and grabs it for you. Startled, you take a step back, noticing a man standing next to you, holding your phone out to you. You don’t know where he came from, but you’re stunned into silence for a moment upon taking in his appearance. 

He’s gorgeous, to say the least: long brown hair flows down his shoulders, and a light dusting of facial hair adorns his top lip. In the dim light of the night, you can just make out his chocolate brown eyes staring at you from beneath his wide-brimmed black hat. His shirt is only buttoned at the very bottom, leaving his chest on display for you. His silver necklace glitters in the moonlight. 

“Um.” You say eloquently, trying to swallow around the sudden dryness in your throat. 

“It’s not broken.” He tells you, and fuck his voice is attractive too – smooth and lilting in a way that makes your knees weak. 

“Thank you.” You take your phone, shoving it into your pocket without even glancing at the screen to confirm that it’s not cracked. “How long have you been standing out here?” 

“Long enough.” He says, giving you a smile that makes butterflies erupt inside you. 

“So you heard all that, then?” You gesture vaguely in the direction of where your date had gone, cringing at the thought of this beautiful stranger bearing witness to what just transpired. 

“Yeah, I heard all that.” He confirms, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Seemed like a real piece of work.” 

You nod your head, grinning a little at him. 

“I seem to only ever attract assholes, unfortunately.”

“I’m not an asshole.” He says, eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “At least, I don’t think I am.” 

It takes you a minute to catch onto what he’s implying, but once you do your cheeks grow impossibly hot under his gaze. He’s attracted to you – the thought seems almost ridiculous given how beautiful he is. He doesn’t seem real with the way he’s standing before you: seemingly appearing out of nowhere and practically glowing under the light of the moon. 

“Oh?” You raise your brow playfully at him, “You don’t think you are?”

“I think I’m alright. Most definitely better than that guy.”

“That’s a low bar.” 

He chuckles, and the sound of it makes you feel all warm inside. You’re struck with the sudden desire to make him laugh again. You want to hear it over and over and over again. 

“I’m Y/n, by the way.” You say, extending your hand for him to shake. 

He pulls his hand from his pocket and grips your hand. His palms are warm and smooth, but his fingertips are rough and calloused. You revel in the feeling of touching his skin for the first time. 

“I’m Jake.” He tells you, and you can’t help the snort that escapes you. “What? Something wrong with my name?” 

You shake your head, grinning from ear to ear as you assess him. 

“You just don’t look like a Jake, that’s all.” 

He quirks a brow. 

“And what do I look like, then?”

You hum, looking him up and down for a moment. 

“I’m not sure. William maybe? Or just Will for short.” You shrug, “Just not Jake.” 

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.” He says honestly, tilting his head at you. You can’t help but notice how the moonlight accentuates the curve of his jaw in the most delicious way. 

You pause for a moment, thinking. 

“It’s a compliment.” You finally assert, nodding your head once as you speak. “You just seem so…” You trail off for a moment, searching for the right word. You can’t think of one. 

Jake just laughs again, shaking his head at you. He takes a step closer, and you swear your heart skips a beat. 

“Can I ask you a question, Y/n?” He says, voice suddenly a lot lower than before. 

“Technically you already did, but go ahead.” 

He shakes his head again, lips quirking into a mischievous smile. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” He jerks his head towards the restaurant. 

You can’t for the life of you think of one reason why you shouldn’t let him buy you a drink. 

“You promise you’re not an asshole?” You ask, though your mind is already made up.  

“I promise.” He assures you, holding his arm out so that you can link your arm with his. 

Grinning like an idiot, you loop your arm with his and the two of you make your way back inside, this time taking your seat at the bar. As you sit, Jake signals a hand for the bartender. 

“Whiskey. Neat.” He says before panning his eyes to you. “M’lady?”

That makes you smile, and the butterflies are back in full swing inside you. 

“Gin and tonic. Hendrix if you’ve got it.” Jake raises his eyebrow at you again but you ignore it, opting instead to smile at the bartender. 

He smiles back before turning his back to make your drinks. 

“Wouldn’t have pegged you to be a gin girl.” 

You just shrug. 

“You most definitely seem like a whiskey guy.” 

“Again,” He says, smiling at the bartender as he places your drinks in front of you, “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.” 

“It is.” You say, taking a sip of your drink. Silence lapses between the two of you for a moment before you speak up again. “Mysterious.” 

“What?” Jake asks, eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. 

“I couldn’t think of a word to describe you earlier when we were outside.” You clarify, swiveling in your seat to get a better look at him. “Mysterious is it.” 

“What makes you think I’m mysterious?” 

“Dunno.” You nod at his form, eyeing his clothes. “Maybe the outfit… It's very piratey.” That earns a chuckle from him and the sound warms you even more than the alcohol has. “Or how you just sort of appeared – like a knight in shining armor, to save me from the worst date of my life.” 

“I hardly saved you. I just picked up your phone.” He reminds you, placing his elbow on the bar top and leaning his cheek against his palm as he watches you. 

“Saved me from the boredom of going back to an empty apartment, then.” 

He inclines his head, accepting your addendum. 

“Happy to help. Though I much prefer to be likened to a pirate than a knight.” 

“Righty-o, Captain Jake.” You exclaim, putting on your worst pirate accent you can. 

Jake laughs – a full belly laugh, for the first time tonight and you can’t help but preen over eliciting such a reaction from him. His laugh isn’t loud, but it’s downright musical and so very contagious. 

-

Your conversation flows freely after that, as the two of you talk about anything and everything you can think of. Your work – he’s actually interested in hearing what you do and what you’re passionate about (he even asks questions and seeks out more detail as you speak.) His music – it’s very fitting that he’s a guitarist, and you’re in awe at the passion and love that he so clearly carries for his music and his other bandmates. You talk about books, movies, your cat, his brother’s dog – you talk about just about everything, and it seems like no time at all has passed before the bartender lets you know that they’re closing. 

Disappointed, you rise from your seat and turn to leave. Quickly, almost as if he doesn’t want you to see, Jake leaves a $100 bill resting on the bar before he turns to follow you. You make no mention of it. 

“Thank you.” You tell him as the two of you find yourselves out on the pavement for the second time. 

“For what?” 

“Restoring my faith in men.” 

Jake smiles, sweet and genuine, and his eyes practically sparkle as he looks at you. 

“Glad to be of service.” 

The two of you are silent for a long moment, both seemingly unwilling for your time together to end. The thought of leaving him… of going your separate ways, almost makes you nauseous. Though you’ve only just met, you feel an unexplainable pull towards the man in front of you – like your very soul is reaching out to him, desperate for some sort of comfort that you didn’t know you needed. Not to mention the dull ache between your thighs that makes you want to latch onto him and never let go. Seemingly reading your thoughts, Jake speaks up first. 

“Y/n,” he starts, and you shiver at the sound of your name from his mouth, “I’m trying to come up with a way to ask you this in the least asshole way possible, but I’m failing miserably.”

Without a doubt, you know exactly what he’s going to say.

“Ask anyway.” You demand, taking a step to close some of the distance between the two of you. 

“Carpe noctem.” He mutters to himself, and you look at him in confusion. 

He just shakes his head. The phrase wasn’t meant for you. 

“I’d love it if you came back to my place with me, Y/n.”

“And here I was thinking that you’d never ask.” 

He grins wickedly at you, and you get the sudden feeling that there’s trouble waiting for you – the good kind. The kind that makes your thighs tremble and your body weak with pleasure. 

“Did you drive here?” He asks, pulling his car keys from his pocket. 

“No, I took an Uber.” 

“Perfect.” His beautiful white teeth glitter under the light of the night sky and your breath stutters in your chest. He really is stupidly attractive. 

-

The drive to his home is torturous. You’re so close to him – close enough that you can smell him (vanilla and whiskey and his natural musk), but you can’t touch him. At least, not the way that you want to. Not yet.

He looks downright sinful behind the wheel, and you take the opportunity to admire him. Your eyes track the angle of his nose and the way his plush lips look so soft. You watch his adam's apple bob as he swallows and you watch the way his long fingers wrap around the steering wheel. His beauty is like nothing you’ve ever seen – like some divinity coming down from the heavens to bless you with his presence. 

“See something you like?” 

His question snaps you out of your trance and your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment after being caught. 

“Maybe.” 

He just hums, the corners of his lips just barely turning up into a smile. 

Your body betrays you, and your thighs clench together as you watch him. 

He tracks the movement from the corner of his eye and his smile widens. Wordlessly, he drops his right hand from the steering wheel and brings it over to rest on your thigh. He squeezes, pressing his fingertips into your flesh and earning a breathy little moan from you. 

Seemingly satisfied with the way you react to just a simple touch, he pulls his hand away from you and returns it to the steering wheel. You ignore the whine that wants to bubble out of your chest at the loss of contact. 

-

After what seems like ages, he finally pulls the car into his driveway. You make the conscious effort to unbuckle yourself and exit the car slowly, trying and failing to conceal how desperate you’ve gotten.

As soon as the front door closes behind the two of you, Jake pushes you up against the wall. A surprised squeak falls from between your lips as he presses into you with his body. He’s warm and solid and your core throbs with need. 

His face is close to yours – so close that your lips just barely brush against his. 

“Kiss me.” You whisper, not caring about how needy you sound. 

“As you wish.” He says, before pressing his lips to yours. 

They’re warm and soft and the feeling makes your knees go weak already. You part your lips, allowing Jake to explore you with his tongue. His hands grip your waist, pinning you to the wall as he presses his hips into yours. You slide one hand beneath his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin and the softness of his belly while the other travels up to tangle in his hair. You give it a slight tug, eliciting a groan from him. 

“You’re divine.” He whispers, pulling away from you so that he can look at you more clearly. 

“Speak for yourself.” Your voice sounds wrecked. You hardly recognize it. 

He attaches his lips to the skin of your neck, licking and biting, and you toss your head back to give him better access. He presses one thigh between your legs, and you can’t help but rock your clothed pussy against the hard muscle. It’s thick, and you whimper at the thought of the power that it likely holds. 

With shaky fingers, you unbutton his shirt and slide it off him, tossing it somewhere on the floor. He pulls his lips away from you just long enough to pull your own shirt over your head, before he resumes leaving searing kisses down your throat and over the valley between your breasts. As he does so, you take the opportunity to splay your hands over his torso, exploring the feel of his skin beneath you. Everything about his body is solid – a perfect mixture of soft and strong and your mouth waters as you explore him. Though he isn’t a tall man, the power and strength that his body holds is undeniable. 

“Jake.” You finally mutter, the ache between your thighs becoming unbearable. “Take me to bed, Captain.” 

He smirks and groans, before taking your own hand in his and presses it against his clothed erection. You can feel him – ridiculously hard and throbbing beneath the fabric of his pants. 

“Feel what you’ve done to me?” He asks and you nod breathlessly. “So hard it hurts.” 

He extracts himself from you, and your body thrums with the desire to press yourself into him again. He beckons you, leading you through his home and up the stairwell to his bedroom. The house is dark, lit only by the moonlight that spills through the windows. 

A king size bed waits for you. The room is tidy, with small little bits of messiness that just show that the room is lived in. A pile of books shoved into a corner, reading glasses left out on the nightstand and an empty whiskey glass sitting next to them. 

Jake unbuttons his pants and steps out of them before turning to you. Wordlessly, you follow his example – stripping until you’re completely bare. Somehow, you don’t feel overly exposed as his eyes drink in your naked form. The way he’s looking at you: predatory and dark, only serves to stoke the fire between your legs. He wants you – no, he needs you. And you’re more than willing to give him whatever he wants. 

At last, Jake slides his boxers off himself, letting them join the pile of yours and his clothes on the floor. His cock, hard and throbbing, springs up and slaps against his belly. It’s just as beautiful as the rest of him – long and flushed red with his own need, and just barely curved to the left. 

“Jake.” You whine as he brings his hand up to stroke himself, spreading his precum over his length as he watches you struggle to find words at the sight of him. 

Giving up on trying to formulate a coherent thought, you approach him slowly before sinking to your knees. You look up at him, eyes wide, as you silently beg for his cock.

“Let me taste you.” You implore, slick dripping down your thighs. 

His eyes are so dilated they look black, and his chest is flushed and heaving as he looks down at you. 

“You look like an angel on your knees like that.” He tells you, his voice husky and rough. He traces the velvety head of his cock across your lips for a moment, before pushing the tip between your lips. You relax your jaw and push forwards, taking as much of him into your mouth as you can. He groans loudly, tossing his head back as he nudges the back of your throat. Pressing your tongue into the vein that runs up the underside of him, you slide your mouth almost off him before pushing back down again. You use your hand to grip his base wear you can’t reach, and you use your other hand to massage his balls. 

“Oh fuck.” He whines, tangling his fingers in your hair. 

You pull off him for a moment and look up at him through your lashes. 

“Fuck my throat, Jake.” 

He groans and nods as you swallow him again. You brace your palms on his thighs as he rocks his hips, thrusting deeply into your throat. You relax as much as you can and focus on breathing through your nose as he fucks into you. The sounds he’s making are sinful, and you drop one hand to finally rub tight circles onto your swollen clit – the relief causing you to moan loudly around his cock. 

His length twitches, and he pulls himself from you and he moans at the string of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. 

“On the bed.” He commands, and his voice has lost the softness of earlier. It’s an order, and you scramble to obey. Though you must not be quick enough for Jake’s liking, as he grabs your hips and lifts you – tossing you into the bed on your back. His strength surprises you, and you whine out his name as he settles his weight between your legs. 

“You’re soaked, angel.” He says appreciatively, admiring the view of you spread out before him. “Wish you could see how you look right now – dripping and needy.” 

You spread your legs wider, trying to entice him to finally touch you where you need him to. 

He leans down and kisses up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You whine and toss your head back as he nips at your skin, so very close to where you want him. 

“Jake, don’t tease.” You beg him, squirming as he continues to ignore your throbbing cunt in favor of your thighs. 

You cry out as he delivers a sharp smack to your ass, the sting of it catching you off guard. 

“Patience, angel. I’m calling the shots.” He tells you, and it’s all you can do to nod your head at him. 

Another harsh smack lands on your skin, and this time a loud moan escapes you at the feeling. 

“Say ‘yes sir.’” He demands, and if you weren’t so desperate, you’d laugh because of course he has a sir kink. 

But your mind is far too clouded with lust and you quickly do as he says. 

“Yes sir.” 

“Good girl.” He says with a sinful smile, smoothing his hand over the red mark that he’d left. “Good girls get rewarded, you know?” He says, before diving downward to lick through your wet folds. 

You cry out his name, eyes screwing shut as he eats you out – the pleasure of his tongue like no other pleasure you’ve ever received from someone else. 

“Oh fuck, Jake.” You whimper, rocking your hips downward onto his face. His tongue breaches your entrance, fucking in and out of you as the bridge of his nose presses against your clit. 

He grips your thighs in both hands, spreading them apart as he lavishes attention on your cunt. The sound of your wetness is obscene, and you’re embarrassingly close to orgasm already. 

Fighting to get your eyes to focus, you glance downwards to see him resting between your thighs. He's got his legs kicked out behind him as he buries himself in your weeping cunt and you whimper as you watch him rock his own hips into the bed. He's groaning into your heat, coming undone at the sounds that are escaping you.

“Jake, I’m close.” You warn him, thrashing your head as the pleasure inside of you builds. Just as you’re about to fall over the edge, Jake pulls away. You groan in protest but he silences you with a look. 

“I’m nowhere near done with you, baby.” 

Slowly, he dips his finger into your folds, swirling through the wetness and grinning like a little kid on Christmas morning. 

“You make such pretty noises, Y/n.” He tells you, pressing the tip of his finger just barely into you. You whine and rock your hips. "Almost came from the sound of you alone."

His voice is low – gruff and warm and you wish that somehow it could fuck you too.

"Fuck, I feel like I could explode." He admits, and you whimper at the honesty in his tone.

“More. Please.” 

He laughs wickedly and pulls his hand completely from you. 

“Greedy little girl. Want me to play you like I play my guitar, angel? Make you sing for me?” 

“Yes. Fuck. Yes sir.” You correct yourself, and he smiles approvingly. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” 

Finally, he sinks his finger into you, messaging your walls for a moment before adding another finger. He curls his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot and your entire body jolts as you moan loudly. 

“There it is.” He mutters to himself, repeating the action – sending white hot sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, making sure to hit that spot with each thrust of his fingers, and his thumb circles your swollen clit. Once again, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build up in you. This time, you can feel the strength behind it after being denied your release last time.

“Ooh, you’re close aren’t you?” Jake asks, increasing his pace to bring you even closer. “I can feel you squeezing around my fingers.” His attentiveness to you and your body would be sweet if it weren't for the desperation clinging to you as he coaxes you to orgasm yet again.

You can’t reply. All you can do is moan and cry out his name as you approach that edge again.

But you should have known. Jake pulls his fingers from you, denying you your climax once again and you could sob at the loss. You let out a wail, and tears leak from the corners of your eyes. 

“I know, baby.” Jake croons, looking down at you in sympathy. “But not yet. Just a little longer.” 

Jake sits up and grips your hips, flipping you over and pulling you onto him so that you’re straddling him. 

“Ride me, angel. Been thinking about it all night.”

Without hesitation, you line him up with your entrance and sink down. You both moan loudly at the feeling and you bring your hands up to grip Jake’s shoulders for support. 

“Oh fucking hell.” He groans out through clenched teeth, “you’re so fucking tight.” 

“Jake.” You cry, lifting yourself up and then slamming back down again. Your body feels like it’s on fire – overstimulation and the need to cum battling within you as you ride him. Your thighs burn and your mind is completely overtaken with your need to finish. 

“Jake, fuck. I’m gonna cum. M’gonna-” You can’t finish. 

“That’s it, angel. Cum on my cock. Let me have it.” 

Your climax tears through you – completely overtaking you as you ride out your high, You’re shaking as the pleasure slices through you, and the noises that fall from between your lips aren’t even English anymore. Just animalistic, helpless little noises as you finally start to come down. Your body falters, unable to continue and so Jake flips you over, pressing your back into the mattress. His cock is still inside you, hard and throbbing as he begins to fuck into you. 

His hips snap against you, the sound of his skin hitting yours and the sound of your wetness filling the room. You blink your eyes open to see Jake, hair stringy and messy, with his mouth open in a silent scream. He places both hands on the bed on either side of you for leverage, and the muscles in his arms and shoulders flex with each thrust of his hips. 

He’s fucking you like no one else ever has – hard and deep and so. fucking. good. 

Little grunts accompany each thrust and his skin glistens with sweat in the moonlight. 

“Fuck you feel like velvet around my cock.” He’s reckless, driving into you like an animal in rut. All you can do is lay there and take it, eyes rolling back into your head as you let out high pitched, pornographic moans and whines. 

“Touch your clit, angel. Take care of her for me. Fuck, I’m so close.” His voice is completely wrecked and his thrusts are growing sloppy. 

You bring your hand down to your clit, frenziedly circling it as your entire body begins to tense up. 

“Give me one more. Fuck, one more, angel.” He’s begging now, face contorted as he holds himself back – waiting for you to cum again before allowing himself to finish. 

“Jake!” You scream, walls clenching around him as you cum. Your vision fades to black around the edges and your entire body shakes and quivers. 

“Oh shit. Fuck! I’m gonna cum. Where- fuck.” He’s losing it, face contorting into agonized pleasure. 

“Inside!” You manage to say and that’s all it takes for him to explode in you. 

The growl that he lets out is sinful as he finally allows himself to cum. His eyes are closed tight and his mouth hangs open as keeps fucking you – riding out his orgasm until there’s nothing left in him. 

Spent, he collapses on top of you, breathing heavily and cock growing soft inside of you. 

“Holy fuck,” You breathe out, beginning to come back to yourself a bit. 

“Mmm.” He mumbles into your skin, lips pressed into your neck. 

Jake sits up, and the both of you hiss as he pulls out of you. 

“I am so glad that asshole knocked my phone out of my hand.” You say breathlessly, and Jake lets out an honest-to-god giggle. The sound catches you off guard and you can't help but to laugh alongside him.

“Me too.” He smiles, and pecks you on the lips. 

“I’m keeping you by the way.” You tell him, brushing some of his sweaty hair behind his ear. "Captain."

He smiles wide and jubilant at you in the dark.

“My very own Elizabeth Swann”

-------

If you're reading this, I love you! 💗

Taglist:

@ignite-my-fire

@demolitionndann

@brujamagik

@mybussyinchrist

@writingcold

@jakesguitarsolo

@sinarainbows

@sinsofstardust

@way-to-go-lad

[aluciahaz]

lose control

—val x vox

—includes: dubious consent, aphrodisiacs, bottom vox & top val

unfinished work/abandoned sorry☹️

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK you, Val!” The static coming from Vox’s voice was almost unbearable as he flopped down onto his bed face-first, gripping the sheets so tight that they tore underneath his claw-like hands. That tall bastard was gone from the condo, and Vox wanted to fuck. Like, desperately. Sure, when he woke up this morning he was feeling up to it, calling out Val’s name to ask for a quick morning hook up as he groggily got up out of his bed, only to be welcomed by the empty space beside him.

But this was completely different. It was like his desires were turnt up to 10x more than before. He didn’t know where it came from, but it hit him like a god damn truck when he drank the—Oh.

Oh, no.

Vox scrambled to the kitchen counter, his robe scantily covering his body as he checked the bottle he drank from earlier today. He had took it out of the fridge this morning, his eyes half-opened from fatigue as he picked out a random drink to taste. Unfortunately for him, it seemed like he had drank the bottle with the ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ note tapped onto it.

Great.

It was one of Val’s stupid prototypes for his love potion or whatever. Vox didn’t really pay attention to that stuff, all he knew was that it raked in good money. So, when his body started to feel like it was melting, and his mind was short-circuiting, it was safe to say he was not familiar with it.

He practically limped back to the bedroom, slumping against the bed frame as he laid on the large bed. God, this was bad. He eyed his phone on the bedside table before looking away, huffing. No, he can deal with this! Besides, this wasn’t just normal ‘fuck Valentino until you both passed out’ vibes he was getting, it was actually.. vice versa. Which was strange.

Very strange, and honestly, kind of unnerving. He’s never one to bottom, always needing to be in control in any situation. But for some reason he had this need to let go. Give someone else the reins, have his hands pinned to the bed, his eyes covered with silk as he let himself be—

“Ah—hah…nn,” Vox dug his toes into the bedsheets, shutting his mouth in order to stop making those annoying sounds. Seriously, he hated how loud he was. It was different when he was on top, cause he’d just dirty-talk so much that the amount of noises he made felt minuscule. But, when he wasn’t, he sounded like some amateur pornstar who records with bad audio quality and peaks the mic every four seconds. Or, at least that’s what he thinks.

Clearly Valentino had a different opinion, considering the instant smirk that grew on his face as he entered the condo. Red smoke swirled around him as he took his last hit, placing his cigarette holder away as he strutted his way to where Vox resided.

“Oh, Vox~! What have you gotten yourself into, baby?” Valentino cooed, surprising Vox so much that his screen seemed to glitch out before the shorter responded.

“When did—nzz—you get here?—fuck, Val!” Vox whined the other’s name in a pitch he didn’t even know he could hit before he felt Valentino crawl over him, his golden tooth glittering under the ambient lighting of their bedroom.

“Just now. Forgot to pick up my wallet, but it looks like I don’t need it,” the taller of the two easily picked up the debauched man below him, placing Vox in a more comfortable position with his head laying down on a plush pillow. Not without whiny complaints of him wanting to be put down, of course. Oh, Vox and his silly need for control!

Valentino smirked as he looked down at his partner, placing his hand on the screen with a gentle touch. When would he realize he didn’t always need to be in charge? Valentino’s tongue slid up Vox’s neck slowly, his eyes darting to his face to see the man’s reaction.

When would he realize that his position in sex translates nothing to the real world? Val untied Vox’s robe quickly, tossing it aside before trailing his tongue down the overlord’s chest, his spindly fingers flicking and pinching one of the buds on his beautiful chest.

When would he realize he was the same, snippy, handsome asshole to Valentino no matter what?

The moth growled in annoyance, biting the man’s collarbone and eliciting a drawn out, static filled cry from Vox.

Valentino couldn’t understand why Vox would always try and to reject the fact he wanted to bottom from time to time. Val was the most well-known pimp in the whole Pride Ring for fuck’s sake. He could tell when a guy wanted to switch it up! He’s counted 30 times where he got the hint. 30!

“Zzz—Val! More, pl—please, fu—uuck!” Vox whined, barely able to wait anymore. Always impatient, the man.

“You’re so pretty under me, babe. You really should have asked me to do this sooner~,” Valentino admired the mess of a man on the bed, his fingers trailing down Vox’s torso. Seriously, it was like the man was made to be fucked by him. If he had let him, Val would have already done this to Vox more times than he could count. And he had 20 fingers!

“Sh—shut, up!” His cries were so pretty. The taller couldn’t wait any longer and pulled out a bottle of lube from their drawer, two hands popping it open with the other pair spreading Vox’s thighs apart.

“That’s not very nice, is it?” Valentino reprimanded, shaking his head in disappointment as he dragged his now wet fingers around the man’s entrance. He was so glad he had multiple arms. Pinning Vox’s arms over his head while he played with the shorter’s chest was just amazing, and all of this while he teased the man’s ass? Fucking perfection.

The way Vox writhed under his grasp was spectacular; his face was flush with a bright red and his was voice was cracking with the cutest moans. The overlord’s ego completely shattered as he felt the other pushed in a finger, cause he fucking loved this. Yeah, Valentino was right. Why did he wait this long to get fucked? This was perfect.

One finger became two, and two became three as Valentino took his time preparing his partner for the main event. He wasn’t small, and he wanted to make sure he could still have privileges to fuck his pretty overlord after today.

The moth made sure to avoid Vox’s cock, which of course the other noticed. The string of curses and complaints were hushed as Val placed a rough kiss on the man’s lips, his tongue shutting the man up quite effectively. Sure, Vox had stamina, but it was clear as day that Valentino had 10 times his, and Val wasn’t going to let this be some quick fuck. No, he was going to truly savor this.

Val, who’s fingers had left the other to quickly spread the lube over his length, couldn’t help but chuckle as the powerful man with him whined in disapproval, his hips bucking up in wanton desperation.

With a single, quick movement, Vox instantly cried out at the feeling of being full, looking up at Valentino whose saliva was dripping with its dangerous red hue.

“Taking it so well, baby. Already a pro at this,” Valentino cooed, placing a kiss on the top of Vox’s screen. All the shorter could do was scowl in disapproval, clearing not a fan of patronizing phrases before his eyes shot open as the other started to move.

“Give a guy—zzn—a w-warning, asshole!” Vox scolded before finding himself lost in the rare pleasure Valentino so graciously introduced him to.

“Ooo, feisty are we? Let’s see how a slut like you can keep up that attitude, hm?” Val cackled as his hands left the man’s wrists, finding their place around his hips and holding the man with a firm grip. His other arms folded the man in half, or at least as far as Vox could manage before Val started to move, groaning with a never-ending hunger for this night.

Seeing Vox like this was truly a gift. Needy, wailing at only a few shallow thrusts, and so fucking beautiful as his whole body shook and strummed with subtle electricity. Sure, Val could fuck any random sinner on the street, but Vox was different. Nothing to could compare to how the overlord squirmed.

“I’m not—not a szz—slut! Shit, wait—!” Vox clawed into their sheets with desire swirling in his mind like a vortex, sucking any other thought into nothingness until his brain was fried. His chest heaved quickly as his breath picked up, his eyes rolling back before a quick error message flickered onto his screen and back to his flushed face.

tags - @drlucichen @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @luciferspetduck

[strawberri-elixir]

— Notice anything? — ~ R. Itoshi ~

╰⇢ In which you decide to poke a little fun at your usually expressionless boyfriend. Only, his reactions aren’t what you expected

Requested: Absolutely! Right here

Pairing: Rin Itoshi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None(?) but this is a High school AU with all the different characters, so it doesn’t follow plot at all.

Note: Thank you so much for letting me write this for you. I tried my best to get it how you envisioned it. Enjoy!

“Good game as always, love.” You give your boyfriend a pat on the back.

“Mhm, thanks.” Was all he said as he looked around for his teammates.

Once he found who he was looking for, he walked over to the group of guys who were all happily chatting with their girlfriends. Leaving you to stand there, hurt that he brushed you off.

But you quickly regain your composure and join him and his teammates. You notice a few of your friends, who were also dating soccer players, standing around as well.

“Oh, perfect! Come here real quick!” Your friend waved you over.

“What’s up?” You hover over to them.

“Have you seen those tiktok trends that couples do?” She turns her phone screen over to face you, a video of a couple doing one of those cute photo trends. “Wouldn’t it be so cute to do one of these with them?”

You glance over to the boys in question, looking for your boyfriend. Rin was still deep in conversation with one of his teammates. Isagi was it? The more you thought about it, the funnier you sounded.

“There’s absolutely no way that Rin would do one of those trends with me.” You give a small chuckle. “He’d probably think it’s a waste of time.”

“Just give one a try! What’s the worst that could happen?” She gives you a nudge.

Maybe giving it a shot wouldn’t do so bad.

So you thought you would try a little something. Not too much, but maybe just something cute. Like a little prank or one of those texting questions. What could go wrong?

A lot could go wrong apparently. Now, not only did you get a rude awakening about your boyfriend’s opinions on Disney princess’s, you also had this ache in your chest.

Surely he didn’t mean it… right?

Right! You decided to try again tomorrow. But what would you do to get a good reaction out of him?

You send a quick message to your friends asking about possible ideas.

Ignore him. Well, the original idea was to ignore his affections, but seeing as Rin never initiates any sort of affection, ignoring him completely might work.

You walk to school, not bothering to wait for your boyfriend like usual as you enter. Normally, you'd wait for him and talk with him from your lockers to your class. But now that you thought of it, the conversations were rather one-sided.

A little while later, you settled into your seat as the teacher began his lecture. As he starts writing stuff down on the board, the door bursts open, effectively stooping the lesson momentarily.

"You're late Mr. Itoshi." Your teacher resumed his writing. "Hurry up and take your seat."

The dark haired boy silently complied and took his seat next to you, looking confused as he saw you sitting in your seat.

"Where were you?" He whispered.

Unfortunately, his question fell on deaf ears as you ignored him and kept writing, not even bothering to look up at him. He just scoffed and focused on the task at hand.

You kept going for the rest of the day, walking away whenever he approached and not answering him when he tried talking to you.

Days turned into weeks. You moved on from completely ignoring him to giving him half-assed responses. All of that, and he still didn't care.

"He doesn't love me." You dramatically flop onto your friend's bed. She was the poor soul who got all of your rants about how Rin wouldn't bother trying to fix whatever was wrong and continued to act as if nothing even happened. Even his teammates picked up on it!

"Don't say that." She chuckled. "If he didn't love you, he would've broken up with you by now."

"But still! He hasn't even bothered to ask if something was wrong! It's like all this is normal for him!" You groan.

“Well me and the other girls tried this one trend on our boyfriends, maybe you could try it on Rin. Give yourself a reason to be mad at him.”

An actual reason to express your anger? That sounds a little too good to be true. But if it meant that Rin would finally acknowledge your attempts, why not?

“What is it?” You sit up.

“So basically you go up to Rin and tell him you look different from yesterday, and you ask him if he knows what changed”

“Pfft. Knowing him, he’d say nothing.”

“Well then you can use that as an excuse to just be mad at him! Besides, most of our boyfriends said nothing looks different anyways, so nothing bad can happen.”

After being ignored for so long, you did have some pent up anger in your system. Maybe you could give it a shot?

“Rin!” Your boyfriend looks over as you run up to him.

“What?” His eyes widen slightly as you use his given name rather than a sappy nickname.

“I look different from yesterday! Can you guess what it is?”

Now for the fun to begin.

“Your bangs.” He pushed your hair out of your eyes.

Huh?

“Just the same!”

“Makeup?”

Well technically you had to use a different foundation today because your old one ran out… doesn’t count though.

“It’s the same.”

“Your eyebrows.”

You were in a rush this morning and didn’t have time to fix your eyebrows, but they’re still the same.

“Nope!”

“And your nails?”

Nothing changed with your nails.

“Still the same~!”

“Where’s the difference?” He finally let out a sigh of defeat.

“Look closely silly!”

He leaned forward, scanning every inch of your face and body, trying to figure out what you changed about yourself. “I don’t know…”

“Give up?” You grin.

“Yeah, I give up.” He finally admits defeat, giving you a fearful look, like you’ll snap at him for not noticing.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. It was funny to see your stoic boyfriend crumble at your mercy.

“Actually, nothing’s changed…” You look around the two of you. Anywhere but into the set of teal eyes staring at you in confusion.

“What?” His eyebrows furrow.

“I just wanted your attention.” A blush found its way onto your features.

After taking a second to process the information, Rin lets out what you believe to be a sigh of relief.

“What?” You shoot him a look.

“My friends were right.” He suddenly pulled you into a tight hug.

“Right about what?” You leaned into him more, appreciating the hug.

"They told me about how you would probably do something like this because I haven't put much effort into our relationship."

He finally admitted his behavior out loud. You couldn't but feel emotional. It was like all your efforts were finally acknowledged.

You let yourself breathe a sigh of relief as you reciprocate his hug.

"I was being immature, I should've just talked to you about it. I'm sorry." You sigh.

"Don't be sorry, I'm just glad you're not mad."

"Oh she definitely was!" Your friend steps out from around the corner.

"You should've seen how worried Rin was when we told him about your little plan." Isagi pokes his head out. "He was scared shitless."

"You told him?" You turned to your friend in confusion.

"Yep!" She exclaimed. "We figured it would be a fun way to get Rin to realize how bad he makes you feel sometimes."

You turn your attention back to Rin who's glaring at the duo, a faint blush on his cheeks. "Rin? What are they talking about?"

"Nothing." He grumbles.

You look between your friends and your boyfriend, everything coming together. The prank suggestions. The whole 'looking different' idea. The responses he gave to you. It all made sense.

You couldn't help but let out a laugh, it was all ridiculous. Rin didn't say anything else, just hugged you tighter.

"I know I'm not the best at showing my true feelings but... I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too." You smiled.

~ Please do not repost on other platforms! ~

[thefanficmonster]

Friend of a Friend

Karl Jacobs x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: After a lot of back and forth with her best friend Bretman, Y/N is talked into joining an Among Us stream with him and members of, what she later learns is the Dream SMP - one member in particular stands out to her.

Requested by Anon. Hi lovely! Thank you so much for being the first person to request for Karl and one of the first people to request for any of the members in the Dream SMP. Sorry for the long wait on the fic but here it is and I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

“Bitch, where have you been?“ 

To be fair, Y/N shouldn’t have expected anything else. Knowing Bretman for as long as she has, she should’ve known this would be his reaction to her calling him back after a double digit missed calls from him.

Dead week has been hitting her hard to the point her phone was left uncharged and dead somewhere in her dorm a couple of times. On other occasions it was left on either airplane mode or on silent so it’s safe to say Bretman isn’t the only person who’s been left in the dark about her and her wellbeing. However, he’s gonna give her the hardest time about it.

“Hi! Hey, sorry for vanishing for a week or two. Exams were kicking my ass left and right and now burnout is kicking in so...consider this an SOS to get me out of this looping hell.“

“If you want an SOS from me you better listen to what I tell you, got it? Imma be your mom for the next couple of days till you pull yourself together, copy?“ He huffs, his voice getting somewhat lost in the background noise of the loud traffic, suggesting he’s out and about at the moment.

Thinking she’s got nothing to lose if she asks for help during these difficult times, she agrees although somewhat reluctantly, “Ugh fine, but you better not throw me some crap out of left field, ok?”

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t think you were in any place to be giving orders.“ He barks back, causing her to roll her eyes.

Turns out she’s got a lot to lose after all - a ton of patience as he bosses her around.

“This is gonna be interesting...“, She mumbles to herself before flopping down on her bed, “Ok mom, I’m listening.“

*   *  *   *   *

"No! Absolutely no!" Y/N almost yells, but being in a park, she doesn't want to disturb anyone around her. Also would most definitely not want them to think she's crazy or something. "What does that have to do with me pulling myself together?"

So far, she's followed Bretman's very reasonable instructions: took a shower, brushed her hair, did her makeup and left the dorm to meet up with him as to get some fresh air.

And then this bombshell of nonsense onto her, leading her to believe the whole thing was a setup.

"You haven't had a human interaction outside of college since the semester started! It'll be good for you to meet new people and have some fun!" He argues, standing by his very valid point.

Y/N also stands by hers, "That's not it, Bret! I've never met these people before! I don't know what they're like! Who knows if they're gonna like me! What if I end up being annoying to them? Or-"

Luckily, Bretman doesn't allow her to continue, "You can never know, Y/N, not unless you meet them. Come on give them a chance, they are some of the nicest people I've met. "

“That doesn’t change anything! I’d still much rather just play video games alone!“ She complains, crossing her arms over her chest like a child.

“Bitch, we need to get you some friends and unfortunately I cannot duplicate myself so if you have any better ideas please, the floor is all fucking yours.“ Y/N rolls her eyes at Bretman’s sass but she’d be lying if she told herself he wasn’t right.

“I have friends! The fact that you don’t like them is entirely your fault!“ She barks back, eyes glinting with annoyance bordering into anger.

“If I, as your best friend, don’t like them, doesn’t that tell you anything?“ He gives her a curious look, one she can not look at without bursting into laughter which is why she quickly turns her head to stare ahead at the passerbys.

“Yeah, it tells me that you’re incredibly judgmental.“

“And you not wanting to meet my friends tells me you don’t trust me!“

Furrowing her brows she leans forward and turns to look at her friend who looks smug as ever.

“That’s messed up! That’s manipulation 101 you can’t do that to me!“ She retorts, eyebrows twisting into a semi faux frown of hurt.

He, however, is not at all bothered, “Sure I can when it’s for your own good.”

“You don’t know if it will be!“

“Neither do you!“

And that’s how he caught her on technicality and practically won the argument.

*  *  *  *  *

The way Bretman phrased it: “Just a harmless Among Us stream” - definitely didn’t sit right with Y/N. She’s still, even now as she sits down in front of her computer and puts on her headset, rather unsure, a half of her adamant on her deserting the scene although she could never do that. Not so much because of Bretman as for the other players. She doesn’t wanna leave them hanging by any means and leave a bad impression on them without even meeting them first. Considering it’ll do more harm than good to leave now that she’s already got herself a spot in the lobby - one her friend got for her and was hoping he’d forget - she decides that there’s probably gonna be little to no harm in staying.

Obviously, the anxious and shy half of her doesn’t agree with that claim but she’s already made up her mind when she joins the VC where there’s already breezing chatter.

“Y/N is that you?“ Bretman’s voice comes through.

“Yup, definitely is.“ She tries to mold her voice into a gleeful one to hide the nervousness although no one can probably notice other than her best friend.

Luckily, he doesn’t comment on it, “Heyy! Was kinda worried you’d chicken out at the last second.”

Damn, he knows me well, She thinks to herself, half bitterly, half fondly.

“Well I didn’t, as it’s pretty obvious.“ She shrugs her shoulders, taking a sip of her stress-reducing soda which doesn’t even manage to get the job done - as expected - but it’s still a good way to trick her mind into taking the metaphorical chill pill.

“And we’re very glad you didn’t. I’m Dream by the way.“ Says a male voice who she hears for the first time, on she didn’t even manage to catch up on when she interrupted the chatter with her entrance into the call.

“Nice to meet you, Dream! I’m Y/N as you probably heard. It’s a pleasure to be here today and I have Bretman to thank for granting me the opportunity.“ Y/N plays off confidence very well, as evidenced here, she might be shaking in her boots, which she kinda is, but she’d never show it, not unless she’s ‘confessing‘ it to someone she trusts.

Soon, one by one, each and every person present in the call introduces themselves to Y/N with her hardly managing to remember which voice belongs to who but she’s so far managed to add Dream, Sapnap, George and Wilbur to her mind’s memory directory which is by no means easy when you don’t have an appearance to relate it to.

“That’s about all of us, just one dick running....“ Dream starts saying before he’s cut off by the noise cuing that someone has joined the VC, followed by a very boyish voice:

“Hello everybody! Sorry I’m late. What’ve I missed?“’

“Thank you for gracing our stream today with your presence Mr. Jacobs. Please, no apologies needed, we’re sorry to have started too on time for you.“ The sarcasm in Georges tone almost makes Y/N laugh. She manages to suppress the majority of it but a giggle still escapes her. Her hand immediately flies to cover her mouth as a result, never mind how not effective of a gesture it is.

“Oh, we have a guest? Hello, I’m Karl.“ He too, like the rest before him, introduces himself, tone almost apologetic as he does so, “Sorry to have kept you waiting.“

“Not a problem at all, Karl. Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N, Bretman’s friend.“ The girl replies timidly, cheeks flushing a faint pink she’s glad no one can see.

The members of the VC explain to her the mechanics of playing Among Us with the use of proximity chat which Y/N’s quick to pick up on, allowing the game to finally start and put an end to the agonizing wait the viewers have been put through.

She let’s out a sigh of relief at the sight of her being declared as a crewmate, knowing being an impostor would cause her too much pressure - more than she’s already put herself under. So, satisfied, she goes on to take on her list of tasks and eliminate them one by one.

Meanwhile, Bretman, who’s an Impostor has taken it upon himself to always be a few steps behind Y/N to make sure she’s doing well and is alive. Hey, if she’s to get killed, he’ll at least make sure to be the one to kill her. Just what friends do for each other, you know.

But then he notices that Y/N is not alone in O2 and is instead in the company of Karl who’s holding something between a small talk and and interview with her since they apparently both got the same task.

“Oh, I’m an ECON major and I hate it, all in all.“ The girl admits with a giggle.

“Why’d you choose it then?“ He asks, audibly cringing before correcting the ‘mistake‘ that Y/N didn’t even notice, “What made you choose it?“

“My parents are both accountants and both of them hate their job which would make you think they’d tell me to stay away from it, but no! Quite the opposite actually.“ She huffs, showing the sheer frustration the topic provokes in her.

“Their excuse?“ Karl nudges her playfully, earning him a slight laugh from Y/N.

“I’ve been told it pays well so...“ This gets them both to laugh, “So they made it seem as though it’d all be worth it in the end. Spoiler alert: I doubt it.“

Although suspicious of the situation, he knows Karl isn’t an impostor so, believing his friend is in safe hands he goes about his way, looking for people he could slaughter.

“Bretman! Come ‘ere!“ He’s startled by the disembodied voice that soon gets its body to follow in frame - it’s Karl’s avatar insinuating he’s left Y/N on her own.

“What’s up?” Bretman asks, mostly uninterested and expecting for it to be a troll attempt.

“Well, um, just wanted to say your friend’s super nice and sweet and uh...how do you know each other?”

Bretman’s eyebrows rise at the question, “Well, if you must know, we met at a convention where she was an assistant part time. What’s it to you?“

Feeling like he needs to defend his intentions behind the question, Karl quickly replies, “Just wanna get to know her better, you know. Who knows, she might appear in more streams and...I gotta know who I’m playing alongside with. You get me, right?”

“Oh I get you, hun, I get you, but let me ask you this: would you want her to join in on other streams?“ Before the poor guy could even reply, Bretman gasps dramatically, “You like her don’t you?!“

“NO!“ Karl exclaims in distress, hoping Y/N has moved onto a different task. “It’s just that you’re my friend, which makes her, um....a friend of a friend! And I wanna make sure she’s....a reliable friend like you deserve.“

Oh boy, he thinks to himself, now I’ve got myself in a deep pile of shit

And he couldn’t be more right. His claims wouldn’t have flown with anyone and especially not Bretman who he can just see smirking right now.

“Awww,“ he gushes, “You so like her! But don’t be embarrassed! You know what they say: enemy of my enemy is a friend, friend of my friend can be my partner!“

“That’s not how the saying go-!“

“You guys talking about me?“ Y/N’s voice cuts Karl off, causing his heart to drop and face go pale as a canvas.

“Yeah, he likes you.“ Bretman casully drops the bomb and waddles away, leaving the two blushing messes alone in the hallway, knowing better than to cut either of their losses by killing one of them.

Meanwhile, the chat is going wild and while Y/N is spared the chaos, Karl is making a LOT of effort not to look down at it, mostly cause he already knows what he’ll see.

I mean, after all, every love story has to start somewhere, doesn’t it?

@mintbunbun

[xoxo-teddybear]

Competition - Bakugou Katsuki - Victorious Inspired

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Cursing, Fluff(ish), Crack, Jealous Bakugou, tatted Bakugou Cuz we love a lil spice

Summary: You were doing homework online with your friends when a needy Bakugou wanted your attention and was pouty when he didn’t get it. After Mina slipped up and said something stupid, Bakugou assumed horrible things and went over only to find out something so very comical.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

You were in your second year of college and the work was killing you. Thankfully, this time around, your assignment was the slightest bit easier, as it was a group project. You, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Mina were currently working on the project through the computer while being on video chat. The night was still young and you still had plenty to do.

“Okay, after I type in this paragraph, what should the next section be abou-“ You were cut off by the sound of a little French bulldog barking and scampering your way. The cute little black dog jumped onto your lap and made itself comfortable, causing you to look down and smile at it before petting it’s ears.

“Awww, look at the little puppy!” Mina said.

“He’s cute, right? I’m watching him for my neighbor while he’s at his football game.” You explained.

“You live next to a football player?!” The pink girl exclaimed.

“I do,” you said with a smile.

“Figures. I live next to an old man who likes to throw lemons at me!” She ranted. The group all laughed at her before continuing the job.

You all worked and finished about 4 pages of the assignment. While in the midst of the 5th page, your boyfriend requested to join your video chat. “Oop, hold on. Suki’s asking to join.”

You added your junior high school sweetheart to the call and was met with a frustrated pout. “Hi babe!” You squealed.

The group all tried to say their greetings to their friend but he spoke before they could. “Where have you been?”

“What? At home.” You said.

“I’ve been calling you, texting you, and basically blowing up your phone, and you haven’t been answering for hours!” He whined. His friends got a small kick out of seeing their tough friend be a softie for his girlfriend and remained quiet to enjoy the show.

“Sorry. I’ve been doing homework and-“

“What is that? Why do you have that animal on you?” He interrupted and asked as he slanted his eyes towards the small canine.

“It’s my neighbor’s dog,” you said with a pitched voice as you cradled the pup closer, almost like you were defending it’s honor.

“Her neighbor, the football player.” Mina mentioned with a sly voice. You shut your eyes and released a slow sigh as you knew what was coming.

“Football player?!” Bakugou shouted.

“Why? Why would you say that?” You said to Mina with a disappointed tone. She was one of his friends, she knew what the reaction would’ve been.

“Sorry,” she genuinely said.

“Why are you doing favors for some football player and what is he doing for you?” Bakugou seethed.

“There’s nothing going on, he’s just-“

“I’m coming over there.” He blatantly said.

“No- no. You don’t need to-“ without letting you finish, Bakugou signed off and went to get ready for his leave. You sighed at your jealous boyfriend and threw shady eyes towards Mina.

—

Some time had passed and your group had finished the 7th page. Almost done! Thank god for this being a small little assignment. Unfortunately, your boyfriend’s little fuss put you all behind schedule a little and it didn’t help that he finally made his arrival to add a little more drama to the show.

A bang was heard at your door. “Open up Y/N!”

“Uhh, I think you’re getting robbed Y/N.” Kaminari said.

“Nah, it’s just Suki.” You said to the blonde through the screen. You then turned to your front door to speak to your boyfriend who was on the other side. “You’re being ridiculous!”

Bang! Bang! Bang! “I need to talk to you!” He said.

“Sorry, door’s locked!” You replied. Unfortunately, the door busted open and you sighed in frustration. “And now it’s not.”

“He has a key?” Kirishima asked.

“No, he has a foot.” You said and then turned to your boyfriend with a sarcastic but also genuine smile. “Hi baby.”

And now here stood your angry boyfriend, Bakugou Katsuki. He was dressed in his combat boots, a pair of black jeans and a white tee. He held a dark green bomber jacket in his hands that he wore due to the slightly cold weather out in the night. With the jacket off, his fully tatted arms were exposed along with the few tattoos that adorned his neck. He had his silver chain on along with a few rings and his cross piercing on his left ear and a few other random ones on his right. To anyone else, your boyfriend looked like a ruffian especially with his motorcycle that was surely parked out front. He definitely was an attractive man. Girls wanted him, guys wanted to be him, and you felt so blessed to have him and have him want you and only you.

He looked like the typical bad boy who was mean as fuck and also happened to be good at everything he did. In reality, he was just your Suki who was a softie that can be a little tempered at times. Like right now.

“What is going on?!” He asked in frustration.

“You just kicked my door open!” You said as you pointed to the evidence.

“Put the dog down and tell me about this football asswipe who lives next door!” He demanded.

“No! I will not put the dog down!” You said, cradling the sweet baby even closer.

“Oh you’re not?!” He said in a threatening tone but you knew your boyfriend would never do any real harm.

“No! If you want to meet the football player then you can wait to talk to him when he gets back.” You said.

“Then I’ll wait for him!” He said, taking a seat a little bit behind you from your setup on the couch’s ottoman.

“Fine!” You said, turning back to your friends. After a second, you realized something and turned back to face him. “No kiss?”

He only stuck his tongue out at you to which you pouted in anger and did the same before turning around. However, you smiled once you felt him come up from behind you and place a peck on your cheek before going back to his spot on the couch.

“Awwww,” your group of friends cooed to which you and Bakugou both smiled and rolled your eyes.

—

Some more time passed and eventually, Mina and Kirishima both grew too tired (thanks to that college schedule) and signed off for the night. Surprisingly, Kaminari was the one who stayed up with you to continue to do the work and was more than happy to help.

“Guess it’s just you and me.” You said to the electric blonde.

“And me.” Your boyfriend said with sass in the background of your screen.

You and Kaminari continued to work until you got to the 15th and final page. Like what was previously said, very easy, very simple, very short. All you had to do was finish this last page and you’d be done! Unfortunately, the universe had different plans and an expected knock was heard at your door.

“Ouu, is that the football player?” Kaminari cooed and teased knowing Bakugou would hear.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Come in!” You kindly called.

“Yeah, COME IN!” Your boyfriend rudely said, setting himself up to sit a little straighter and look a little meaner.

To his surprise, in came a young boy who was dressed in his school representative hoodie and a pair of sweats. “Hi Y/N!”

“Hi Ryu!” You said to the young boy who took a seat next to you. “Katsuki, this is my next door neighbor, Ryu. Ryu, this is my boyfriend, Katsuki.”

“Nice to meet you mister!” The boy said with excitement as he looked towards your “scary” boyfriend in the back.

“Hello Ryu.” Your boyfriend said in a defeated tone that he hid with a smile and wave towards the little boy. You smirked at your boyfriend as you recognized his tone. The tone he usually had when you proved him wrong. Ryu being the sweet boy he is also waved towards your friend at the camera to be polite.

“What’s up little man,” Kaminari said as a greeting. Ryu turned to you to pick up his little frenchie.

“Thanks for taking care of Natsu!” He said sweetly.

“Anytime kiddo!” You said, giving him the dog. Ryu pet his pup for a second before looking back at Bakugou and whispering to you. Luckily, it was loud enough for Bakugou to hear.

“Your boyfriend looks really cool!” He whispered excitedly.

“I know!” You whisper-yelled back with a smile. Kaminari let out a little laugh while Bakugou had a sad face. He felt guilty for wanting to come here to beat the shit out of a football player, only for that football player to be a cool lil kid who thought he was pretty cool too.

“Well thanks again! Bye now!” Ryu said before getting up and leaving with his dog. You waved at them until the door shut, you crossed your legs and smiled as Katsuki got up with a sigh and took Ryu’s seat next to you.

“Wow Bakugou, looks like you got some competition!” Kaminari teased. Bakugou only sighed and rubbed his temples with one hand before feeling you push on his shoulder.

“You gonna say you’re sorry~” you teasingly asked.

“You didn’t tell me he was 9!” He argued.

“You didn’t give me a chance!” You laughed out. Bakugou flopped onto his back as he began bantering with you. You both went back and forth and Kaminari chuckled to himself before signing off to let the cute couple have their time in privacy.

Bakugou remained on his back until you poked his face and he grabbed you before flipping the both of you over so that you were under him. He flopped down onto your body, getting comfortable on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair in a successful attempt to soothe him.

“Just wanted some attention from my baby.” He muffled out with a small blush. You smiled and looked towards your screen.

“Well Kaminari signed off, Natsu’s gone, and it’s just you and me. You now have my undivided attention, Suki.” You said. Bakugou sighed in content before going up to place a kiss on your lips.

“Good.” He said before tucking his head into the crevasse of your neck. You held him close while he played the small spoon and you both cuddled up nicely. If it was attention he wanted, it was attention he’d get.

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101 @ebiharachan

[jadequeen88]

Incel Tomura

I couldn’t think of a good title for this, so... I just went with something real blunt. Anyway, this was inspired by a friend and how she actually met her IRL boyfriend.

PAIRING: Incel!Shigaraki x egirl!reader

TW: face sitting, degradation, mommy kink, reader basically bullying Tomura (he deserves it)

3.2k~

AS ALWAYS MY FICS ARE STRICTLY 18+

“TCH!”

Tomura scoffed at the screen of his laptop. The Discord server he helped admin had gone to shit since he let that idiot Dabi loosen the requirements to join. It was one thing when Toga joined. He knew she was a decent gamer. But you? With those stereotypical cat-ear headsets, perfectly done make-up and short skirts? Please… He saw right through you. Just another fake ~uwu~ e-girl trying to pretend they knew what they were talking about.

It didn’t end with you being annoyingly informed in the gaming chat, either. You were always in the anime and manga chats, too… Suggesting different ones that there’s no way you actually enjoyed.

But the WORST part of you being in the server? Spamming the picture chat with selfies and outfit pics. No, it wasn’t against the guidelines and yes, you got lots of compliments (of course, you were clearly hot), but it made Tomura livid. Where there used to be pics of half-built PCs and screenshots of character upgrades, now there were endless pictures meant to tease and bait the guys in the server.

Today’s picture is what sent him completely over the edge. Your hair was put up in two messy space buns, signature pink cat-eared headset perched on your head. Your black, mesh top was straining against your tight, hot pink bra, barely hiding your cleavage and your slender neck was adorned with a chunky, black collar with a large, silver ring hanging from the front. The icing on the cake, though… the thing that broke him, was the face you were making. Eyes crossed, little pink tongue lolling past your perfect hot-pink lips, it was an obvious ahegao face. The caption read:

“New collar! Thank you for da gift @XxXknifey_wifeyXxX”

Followed by a bunch of annoying ass emojis.

Tomura shifted in his gaming chair, his growing bulge making his sweats tight. He gritted his teeth and opened his DMs…

******

You snickered as you opened your text chat with Dabi. Poor Tomura… He had no clue his friend was an old high school buddy of yours and sent screenshots every single time he bitched about your presence on the server. At first, it was just a couple of snide comments, but you quickly decided to turn it into a game. You’d add more emojis than you normally would, flirt shamelessly with Toga in the chat, and be very vocal with your opinions. Then it progressed with more and more selfies, pics showing off your new skirts, and pics of your pink, girly gaming setup. Today you pushed it with the ahegao face, you’ll admit. It was pretty out of character for you, but you couldn’t wait to hear about Tomura’s reaction from Dabi.

It was everything you hoped it would be:

Decay_666_

So can we give those bitches their own chat or what? Seriously, I’m sick of seeing their shit everywhere. Did you see her ahegao face selfie? This server was supposed to be for ACTUAL gamers, not fake e-girl sluts spamming the chat with their bullshit…

Cremation_Daddy

Lol, damn dude, calm down… we can make a separate chat. You’re the only one on the server complaining. Y/N really fucking you up that bad?

Decay_666_

Oh, fuck off… she’s just being an attention whore and it’s getting on my nerves.

Cremation_Daddy

Yeah, whatever you say. Prolly jerkin it to that selfie right now

You didn’t know why, but you kinda had a crush on the skinny loser. Knowing how worked up he’d get over the smallest things you did thrilled you. You wanted to know just how badly you affected him and today was the day you’d find out.

*****

Tomura heard a ping from his monitor alerting him to a new DM. expecting it to be Dabi giving him more shit, he scowled and clicked over to his Discord tab. When he saw that it was you DMing him, it was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head. He could barely type he was so nervous.

Y/N

Hey :)

Decay_666_

Hi

Y/N

How did you like my new collar?

Tomura panicked. Had Dabi said something? There’s no way he’d do that. How did he even respond to that? He decided to feign ignorance.

Decay_666_

What collar?

Y/N

*image*

He audibly gasped. You sent him the selfie you’d posted in the chat earlier. Somehow, it was even hotter than the first time he’d seen it. Probably because you had sent it to him. You wanted to make sure he saw it. The thought alone made him painfully hard. He typed out a shaky response:

Decay_666_

Yeah… you look really pretty :)

He grimaced. He couldn’t think of anything clever when he was put on the spot like that. Plus, how long had it been since he’d spoken to a girl one on one? Much less a hot one? Never. That’s when.

Y/N

Aww, you’re so sweet :) wanna see it in person?

Now Tomura was wondering if he’d died and gone to heaven. Did she want to meet up? Wearing that fucking collar? There’s no way… He stared at the screen for a good ten minutes before another ping brought him back to reality.

Y/N

I’m free now if you are. Plus, there’s a new episode of *insert favorite anime* out and I didn’t wanna watch it alone.

Decay_666_

Yeah. Sure.

His response was almost uninterested but inside he was panicking. When was the last time he showered? How much time did he have to get ready? Did he even have any clean clothes? He leaped from his chair and ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Another ping rang out and he raced to check his DMs to see that you’d sent your address. To his surprise, you only lived a short walk from him. Another jolt of excitement shot through his spine as he quickly responded.

Decay_666_

Be over in 30 :)

He turned on the shower then started picking through his pile of clothes finding the ones that smelled the least offensive. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous and excited at the same time.

*****

 Tomura shifted from one foot to the other, nervously scratching at the side of his neck. He caught himself before the skin there broke and he ended up having to deal with a bloody neck on top of already being a nervous wreck. He’d only been standing outside your apartment for a minute or two, but it felt like an eternity. He kept checking his phone to distract himself. Just as he was starting to question if this had been a good idea, the door flung open.

His eyes widened and his mouth turned into a thin line. You answered the door in a fucking towel. He began opening and closing his mouth like a fish that had been plucked from the water. You giggled innocently like it was perfectly normal to answer the door nearly naked.

“You’re here a little earlier than I expected! I just got out of the shower. Come on in,” you moved to the side to give him room to walk through the door into your small apartment. You were sure to not move completely out of the way so he’d have to almost brush against your chest. You could feel him stiffen and hold his breath as he passed by.

This was going to be so much fun…

*****

Tomura’s dick had been painfully hard the moment he’d seen you in that towel. Luckily, when you’d gone into your bedroom to get dressed, he was able to position it in his waistband so he wouldn’t be pitching a tent in front of you. The thought of you noticing him popping a boner just by looking at you in a towel was mortifying. 

However, what you decided to change into didn’t help his situation. Your baby pink terry cloth shorts would have shown the curve of your ass had it not been for the little row of ruffles around the bottom. Your tank top, the same baby pink color as your shorts, was pulled tight across your chest (holy shit, were you not wearing a bra?!). A fleeting glance at your chest proved to Tomura that you definitely were not wearing a bra.

“You can come on back,” you beckoned from the doorway of your bedroom, “I thought we’d be more comfortable in here…”

He gulped and rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans before nodding and rising to walk towards you. Your room was foreign to him. Decorated with all shades of pink and purple, soft, plush bedding, and a soft pink glow emanated from the LED strip lights that lined the walls. Tomura stood awkwardly, looking around for a chair to sit in when you flopped onto your bed and began pulling up the streaming app on your tv. 

You looked up at him sweetly and patted the spot on the plush comforter next to you. “Come sit, Tomu! You don’t have to stand way over there. I don’t stink, ya know,” the wink you gave him made his knees buckle.

“Umm,” he chuckled nervously, “No, of course not. You, uhh… you smell…”

No, you were way too close. This was bad. There’s no way he would be able to string together a coherent thought, much less hold an actual conversation with you. You pout and lean in even closer to him.

“Tomuuuuu!” fuck, he hated that he loved that stupid nickname, “You think I smell?!”

“What?! N-no, not at all. I was trying to say that-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you tilted your head to the side offering up your neck for him to smell and he swears his eyes crossed as he tried to absorb what was happening.

“I even wore my new perfume! Go on, smell. Tell me what you think,” you smirk looking out of the corner of your eye.

Fuck.

You were teasing him, he knew you were, but his dick was so hard that he was completely at your mercy. He leaned in to take a tentative sniff and his eyes wandered lower. His breath hitched when he noticed the outline of your hardened nipples peeking through the thin material of your tank top. Before he knew what was happening, you turned your face forward and put your mouth next to his ear.

“Are you looking down my shirt, you pervert?” you purred. Tomura made some sort of incoherent noise and pulled away.

You laughed and pushed his shoulder playfully, “Geeze, I’m just kidding! You’re wound so tight.” you pause making a thoughtful face.

“Oh, I know how to help! Come on, over here,” you pulled him between your spread thighs and proceeded to rub his shoulders, working out all of the knots in his lean back.

After a few seconds, Tomura began to relax into your touch, slumping slightly and letting out a tiny sigh. He was deathly still the entire time you massaged him. He was terrified if he moved too much that his raging boner would free itself from his waistband. When your hands left his shoulders, he started to move away just to be pulled back into your lap. His head landed in your cleavage as your hands trailed down his chest. 

“Hmm, so tense, Tomu,” you whispered into the crown of his hair, “Is my massage not working?”

He wanted to yell that of course he was tensed up. That his dick is the hardest it’s ever been in his life and if he doesn’t hold as still as possible, he’s scared he might start humping the air like a pathetic dog. Before he can answer, your hand trails down to the waistband of his jeans, and he freezes. The tips of your fingers brush across his leaking tip and Tomura lets out a low, needy moan before he can stop himself.

“Just what I thought,” you purred as you began to trail your fingers up and down the hard bulge in his jeans, “Pathetic. Look at you, so fucking hard for me. And all I did was rub your shoulders.” He wanted to defend himself, but all he could do was whine as his eyes rolled in the back of his head while you continued touching him through his jeans.

“And to think, I never thought you’d want anything to do with some fake bimbo like me. Because I only game and watch anime for attention, right?” you squeeze his cock through his jeans, causing him to yelp. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself, incel? Wanna tell me why your dick is this hard for me if I’m so annoying to you?”

The realization that Dabi had told you everything flitted through the back of his mind, but he didn’t have room in his brain right then to be mad at him. He had to do whatever he needed to do to keep you touching him.

“I, ahh... I’m s-sorry,” he stuttered pathetically. The front of his jeans was wet from your teasing and the denim was rubbing him raw through his thin boxers, “D-didn’t, fuck, didn’t mean it like… ahh, l-like th-that.”

You loved how easily you could wreck him. You pet his hair back from his sweaty brow as you cooed at him lovingly.

“You know,” you removed your hand from the front of his jeans and he whined from the lack of friction, “You really hurt my feelings, baby. I thought you were so cool and the whole time, behind my back, you said just mean things about me.”

He sat up and turned to face you. His pathetic, needy gaze shot straight to your core. The power you held made you drunk and you desperately wanted more.

“No, no no no…” he grabbed your hands and you realized how clammy they were, “I’m-I’m so sorry. Please! Please…”

“Hmm,” you studied him for a moment, “Well… There might be a way you could make me feel a little better.” you tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, “You were so mean to me.”

“Anything! Please! I-I’ll do anything for you!” desperation started creeping in, thinking you’d leave him hanging with no relief. Little did he know, you had no intention of letting him go any time soon. Your plush lips curled into a devious smile. A soft hand reached up cupping his jaw.

“What a good boy, Tomu,” a tremor passed through his body. You reached over to your nightstand and pulled out the collar you’d taken the selfie in. 

“You know,” the collar danced between your painted nails, “This also came with a leash. I was thinking,” your lust-filled eyes meet his, “If you wanted to be a good boy for me… You’d let me see how pretty it looks around your neck.”

Tomura hesitated, his eyes rapidly moving between your eyes and the collar you held. After a moment of consideration, he nodded. You giggled and clapped your hands together excitedly leaping off the bed. You returned with a short, chain-link leash.

“Now,” you leaned in and fastened the collar around his neck. Your bodies were centimeters apart and Tomura thought he might pass out, “When you’re wearing your collar, you don’t call me Y/N,” you nudge his ear with your nose and whisper, “You call me ‘Mommy.’ Do you understand?” you feel him nod against your face.

“That’s not how good boys answer their Mommy. When you answer me, you say, ‘Yes Mommy’ or ‘No Mommy.’ Is that clear?”

“Y-yes… Mommy.”

“Mmm, what a good boy,” you placed a soft kiss on his neck and he let out the most delicious whimper. You hooked a finger through the ring on the front of the collar, “You’re gonna go sit in Mommy’s gaming chair and let her use you as a toy. Okay?” 

Tomura’s head was spinning and he almost couldn’t answer until you jerked him by his collar, “Y-yes, Mommy. Please, please make me your toy.”

You stood and dragged him over to your chair and made him sit, “What a polite boy you are! Saying ‘please’ without being asked. If you keep that up, you just might get a reward,” his belt buckle rattled as you worked his jeans down his narrow hips. 

A ragged breath escaped his chapped lips as you removed your tiny shorts revealing a black, lace thong. You straddled his lap, your dripping slit hovering a centimeter over the angry, leaking head of his cock. His hands shook as you placed them on your hips and slowly moved your thong to the side. Descending an inch at a time, only teasing his tip, was causing him to come undone underneath you.

“You’re already so close and I’ve only put the tip in. You better be a good boy and not come until I tell you to or you’re going to be punished,” you pushed another couple of inches inside and he nearly wept.

“I-I’m trying, M-mommy! I wanna be a good boy!”

“Mmm, I know, baby. You’re doing so,” another inch, “So…” and another, “Well.” you were fully seated on his cock now. Tomura knew he wouldn’t last. Your velvet walls were sucking him down harder than anything ever had before. It made his fleshlight feel like it was made of sandpaper. You had ruined him for anything else. 

With a few rolls of your hips and some high, airy moans, he was about to bust. “Mommy! Mommy, please! I-I’m g-gonna…”

“Tomu,” your voice was authoritative now, “If you come in Mommy’s pussy, I’m going to make you clean it out with your tongue then I’m going to sit on your face until I come as many times as I want.” your hand wrapped around his throat and you started bouncing on his cock. Your filthy words and aggressive motions catapulted him into an orgasm.

“You bad, BAD boy,” a smack to his cheek broke off his moans, “You disobeyed me! Did you do that on purpose?” your hand around his neck flexes, “Are you just a dirty incel that wants Mommy to get mean with you? Answer, Tomu!”

“Yes, Mommy!”

“Tell Mommy what you are…”

“I-I’m a-a… dirty incel.”

“And what do you want?”

“W-want… want Mommy to b-be mean to me…”

You lift him by the collar and attach the leash. He’s thrown onto the bed and you waste no time hovering your dripping slit over his face.

“Now,” you jerk the leash, “Clean up your mess.”

Tomura knew he should be disgusted right now, but his dick was getting harder by the second. With each lick inside your sloppy hole, he shamelessly moaned against your skin. The vibrations were going straight to your clit, causing you to ride his face harder. This went on until you’d almost reached your peak.

“Oh, baby,” you’re making Mommy feel so, so good, “I-I’m gonna…”

Tomura grabbed your ass and moved you back and forth on his face as he sucked your clit into his mouth. Your orgasm hit hard and fast. You lifted your body giving him a moment to breathe before sitting back down, earning a startled mumble from him.

“Don’t think that’s all,” you laughed and humped his face, making his eyes roll into the back of his head, “Be a good boy and mommy might even let you come…”

Tomura only nodded as he began to eat you again like he was starved. Maybe all the stuff you posted in the Discord server wasn’t so annoying anymore...

[volleychumps]

I think I've seen this done before but I wanted to see your take on it; could you do hcs/scenarios (up to you) for daichi, iwa, akaashi, yaku, and kita (if you write for him) of their s/o calling them by their full name? Maybe with an unreadable expression on their face (in reality they just to see their reactions)? I chose the boys who are generally viewed as the responsible and sensible type lol; I hope this isn't confusing. I adore the way you write, and thank you so much!!

ahah I’m still getting used to characterization for Kita, and I’m really tired tonight guys- have some headcannons tho;)

Calling Them By Their Full Name w/ Daichi, Iwaizumi, Akaashi, and Yaku

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

Daichi 

- “Y/N, give me one second-” “Dai, please- you have so many pairs of sneakers for practice-” 

- tightens his grip on your hand to keep you from going anywhere as he examines the over-priced shoes sitting through the glass , and you sigh before hardening your voice while masking a giggle 

- “Daichi Sawamura.” 

- immediately stiffens, turning 100% of his attention to you and kind of standing at attention while eyeing you worriedly as if you had just hit him 

- Gently loosens his grip on your hand before tilting his head slightly in confusion when you almost breaks into a fit of giggles, the captain scratching the back of his neck guiltily 

- “Are you hungry? I’m sorry for being inconsiderate, we can go eat now-” 

- winces when you punch him playfully in the shoulder in passing, walking ahead of him, now slightly irritable that that was his first reaction 

- like damn you were kind of hungry but he didn’t have to asSUME

- “Why are you mad?” as he frowns, attempting to grab your hand and succeeding before making you stop walking to face him, Daichi genuinely confused as you resist the urge to hug him 

- “...why do you think I’m mad?” 

- “...you didn’t call me Dai...” he mumbles before narrowing his eyes when you laugh, stroking his cheek gently as he catches on, looking at you in an unamused manner  

- “That’s not funny.” “You’re cute when you worry, Dai.” 

Iwaizumi

- “Iwa~!” “Y/N, not in school.” 

- doesn’t notice the look of dissappointment that passes across your face when he takes your arms from around his neck loosely, your arms drooping by your side as he openly rejects your hug in the middle of the halls 

- heart been broke too many times

- turns on his heel to begin walking in the direction of your next class before realizing you’re not standing next to him

-  “Iwaizumi Hajime.” 

- blinks at your unreadable expression as you turn in the opposite direction, not realizing that you were holding in your chuckles from the way his face fell

- “What?” “See you later, Iwaizumi-san?” 

- catches your wrist before you can make it far down the hall, ignoring your protests as he tugs you into a nearby empty classroom and shutting the door tightly behind him

- “Iwa-” “So it’s Iwa now?” 

- narrows his eyes at your even smile, tilting your head teasingly as your boyfriend figures it out before sighing 

- rolls his eyes as he pulls you into his chest by the waist, holding you there until you still in his arms  

- “This is what you wanted, right? Don’t call me that.” “Eh, but you hate it when-” 

- “Not when you do it, alright?” As he tightens his hold on you, and you softly smile into his shoulder as he pulls back abruptly, gaze hardening all over again

- “-Don’t tell shittykawa I said that.” “aaaand the moment’s over. Just get me to class already, Iwa.” 

Akaashi

- “’Kaashi!” “Sh. Give me a minute, I have to talk to the sensei.” 

- lmao what did this mf just shush you- 

- Doesn’t see the way your energy depletes, pouting a little bit when Akaashi turns his back towards you, and you huff and decide to go on ahead of him before he can notice

- you weren’t really that mad you just wanted to mess with him 

- so when he comes back not even three minutes later, he’s literally like what the hell when he saw you weren’t waiting for him 

- deadass jogs to catch up with you just as you leave the school gate, catching your hand along with his breath as he tries not to sound annoyed 

- “Y/N what-” “Akaashi Keiji, I don’t want to go home with you today.” 

- eyes widen a little as he connects the dots in his head, not being able to hide the amused glint in his eye as he doesn’t let go of your hand 

- “Are you mad I shushed you?” “You shushed me Keiji? Didn’t notice.” 

- eyes you evenly as your petty actions actually make you a little more endearing, the setter’s lips curling into an amused smirk 

- “Keiji. I like it coming from you.” “Wait no-” 

- mans really said uno reverse- 

- “Should I call you by your real name as well, or-?” “No!” as you clamp a hand over your mouth quickly at the automatic response, Akaashi simply growing more amused as he steps forward to kiss the top of your head

- “Let me walk you home, beautiful?” “I hate you, ‘Kaashi.” 

Yaku

- “Yaku Morisuke.”

- openly flinches when that name leaves your lips, your boyfriend looking at you with a wait what did I do kind of expression as you try to keep your face expressionless and forward, not meeting his eyes

- slowly puts his phone down before sitting criss-cross in front of you seriously on his bed, taking your hands in his as you almost break into laughter at the way he guiltily traced his thumb over your hands 

- “...Is this about me forgetting to drop off a juice for you during that one lunch period because it was one time-” “Mori, what are you talking about?”  

- it’s a damn juicebox someone help this man he’s too pure

- sighs in an over-exaggerated manner before flopping across your lap, and you amusedly run circles against his back as he mumbles into your thighs

- “Oh thank god.” “You are so dramatic, Yaku Morisuke.” 

- frowns before sitting up, leaning into you before cradling your face with one of his hands as your giggles die down 

- “Hey. What if I just called you Y/N L/N all of a sudden, what would you do about it?” 

- quirks a brow before smirking when you stiffen at the sound of your name leaving his lips, prompting the libero to lean into you even more 

- “That is, unless you like it.” “Go back to sleep, perv.” As you shove a pillow in his face, laughing all the while as Yaku grins, tackling you into his bed before turning so you were laying in his chest 

- “Ever just try to take a nap only for your girlfriend to scold you for no reason-” “I mean it, Mori.” 

- stifles a laugh into your hair, stroking it languidly with his fingers as he hums, voice falling to a whisper

- “In all reality, my name is gonna be yours one day- so you should get used to saying it.” 

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

General Works: @takemetovalhalla​ @kasandrafaye​ @dreebbles​ @savemesteeb​ @yams046​

[shadowofahope]

NOT Gonna Happen

Warnings: Swearing? One bad word near the end.

Premise: Fight or Flight. Meet BTS or run away from BTS?

“Uh guys…. She’s rolling away.” Yoongi points to you and your attempt to escape the room. Hands grab your ankles to halt your getaway. “I hate all of you.” You groan up at Yeonjun, who still had hold of you. You give up, letting out a deep sight, wishing the ground would open from under you.

Ft. TXT

Authors notes: My honest to all the kpop gods, reaction to meeting these boys. YEET!

This is also a response to people constantly asking me, what would you do if you met BTS?

ALSO this is heavily un-edited. I'm really tired and I'm trying to write 3.5 stories at once! Wooooh, wish me luck!

masterlist

Today marks your 8th week working at BigHit, currently working with TxT on their new album and the chaos that always followed them. Walking down a hallway with one of the backup dancers you had become quick friends with, you felt at home in this monumental building. You are comfortable here, everyone making you feel at home.

“Pleasssssse” Sung-ho begs again. Hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently as he walks behind you. “You have to come.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” You whine back, swinging your staff badge back and forth on your neck. “You know I don’t want to meet them.

He tugs on your shoulders lightly forcing you to halt. Jumping in front of you, palms pressed together, eyes closed he starts begging.

“You promised you would come to one practice. Just this one. Please Please Please-”

Huffing in frustration, you screw up your nose. He silently waits for you to give in, as he knows you will eventually.

“Just this one.” You finally give in.

“Yaaay!” He cheers, jumping to your side.

In all the comotion you don’t notice the footsteps approaching you two from down a connecting hallway. Shrugging your friend off, you’re about to round the corner when you hear it. Instantly freezing.

“I think it’ll be safer to go over the choreo with the dancer one more time.”

“I agree, the timing still seems a little off. We should take a look at the schedules.”

“Sung-ho!”

Your friend smiles and turns to the voice that called him, turning his back to you.

“Hello, Taehyung. Jimin. Hoseok.” Sung-ho greets cheerfully.

“Do you have time to come with us to discuss the schedules for practice?” Jimin asks politely.

“Of course, I was just on my way to grab a snack with -” He starts to explain, turning to where you once stood. Hand hanging in the air, he’s dumbfounded.

“With-?” Hoseok questions.

“Apparently myself.” He turns back to the boys. How had you disappeared so quickly and to where?

He chuckled awkwardly at the idols, cursing you for putting him in this embarrassing situation.

They mirror back his awkward laugh, excusing themselves as they continue on down the hallway.

Your friend stands there for almost two full minutes, trying to figure out what in the hell just happened. He hears a rattle coming from the small storage room near him.

The door swings open.

“You did not just-“ He’s wheezing, trying to catch his breath.

“Don’t talk to me” You walk out of the storage room, in reality it’s more of a tiny linen closet. Upon hearing the idols voices, In sheer blind panic, you threw yourself into the closet and shut the door behind you.

Walking past your still wheezing friend, you push him playfully before continuing on towards the lounge. His loud cackles bouncing around you all the way there.

💜♾💜♾💜

You are sitting in a waiting room with TXT. You’ve made yourself comfortable on one of the couches facing away from the door across the large room, angled towards the wall full over mirrors for makeup and hair. Scrolling through your phone, while Kai and Taehyun talk about something animatedly behind you. You can see them every once in a while, flailing their arms, mimicking wild gestures.

You three had chosen to stay back while the other three needed to ‘stretch’ their legs and find something to drink. So when the door opens you don’t look up, expecting it to be the missing members. Your body lurches forward at the reflection in the mirror, panic spreading.

“Hyung!” Kai exclaims excitedly, bounding over to the 2 members of BTS that have entered the room. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, we were looking for Jungkook. Have you seen him?” Namjoon asks, looking around the room.

“No, he hasn’t been through here.” Taehyun chirps next to his bandmate.

“Ok, I’ll try calling him again. '' Jin responds, pulling out his phone from his back pocket.

“What are you guys doing here?” Namjoon questions the younger idols.

“Oh, we are working on a concept for one of the singles off our album. Our producer -” Kai motions to the couch that you were on. Now being completely empty. Your slouching form gone, the room appeared empty as well. “Who apparently is gone now, was here helping us.”

Jin and Namjoon shared a skeptical glance at each other. Kai rubs the back of his head as he looks at his beandmember, giving him a confused tilt to his head, to which he gets a shrug in response.

“That’s the newer producer right?” Jin questions.

“Uh yea, that’s her.” Taehyun confirms, still utterly confused by your houdini act.

“We’ve heard a lot of great things about her, from all over, but we still havent seen her.” Namjoon concluded by nodding his head, in thought.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll meet her soon. It’s bound to happen.” Kai reassures.

The duos bid each other goodbye, BTS leaving the room and TXT walking back towards the empty couch.

“How did she-where did she-?” Unable to fully ask his question, Taehyun looks around the room again.

Kai rounds the side of the couch, noticing a hood under the coffee table.

“Noona?” He tries to hide his laugh but fails miserably.

You lift your head from the floor, removing your hood, peering up from underneath the coffee table at the younger. You glare at him, crawling out as he falls back onto his butt laughing, Taehyun joining him on the floor. Both now convulsing with uncontrollable laughter.

Flopping angrily back onto the couch in your previous position, you ignore their incessant chattering and laughing. Recounting you hiding again and again. Even when the other members returned and they explained everything that happened while they were gone, you chose to angrily scroll on your phone until their pestering and teasing died down.

💜♾💜♾💜

Pacing back and forth in a secluded lounge area, you waited with all of the members of txt. You were waiting to hear back from the execs about your concept ideas. The boys had worked extremely hard to come up with a fully thought out concept, you had backed their ideas the whole way as they presented them to the higher staff. Now you waited, anxiously.

Drumming your hands together while pacing you chewed on your bottom lip nervously. Each member stationed on the couch, lounger ottoman, facing you. Legs bouncing in anticipation, knuckles cracking you stopped in front of the large window, facing them, the outside world behind you.

“Look guys, regardless of what happens you did amazing.” You smile at them. “And I’m unbelievably proud of you. All of you.”

Breaking them out of their stoppers, they look up at your faces glowing, pride swelling in their chests.

“Soobin-ah?” A deep voice calls from somewhere unknown, and you freeze.

The members of TXT jump up from their seats, whirling around in time to see all the members of bts walking around the balcony area over to them.

“Taehyung-hyung,” Soobin greets politely. “How are you all doing today.?”

“Good, we just finished rehearsals.” Taehyung explains, once they were standing just on the other side of the couch to him. “Have you guys heard anything yet? We saw the concept art, we really liked it!”

“Nothing yet. We were actually just waiting. Noona was just trying to-” Soobin attempts to explain, motioning behind him to you. Seeing the skeptical looks on their faces, he turned his head to see nothing. You had completely vanished. With furniture and a structural wall surrounding you, there was no place you possibly could be hiding.

Confusion evident on his face as he looks over at Yeonjun. Eyes silently asking him where you had gone, the older only shook his head, eyes just as wide, he shrugged in response.

“Right, the elusive producer we keep hearing about but never seeing.” Yoongi responds comically. “Maybe she isn’t real? But a ghost!”

Spooking Jin and Hoseok alike, they give him an alarmed glare.

“No, we promise she’s real.” Soobin persuades, his voice coming out in almost a plea.

Trying to affirm your existence to their Hyungs, Gyu becomes overwhelmingly curious. He walks over to the spot you had been standing, a deep frown settled on his features.

He does a full 360, in an attempt to understand where you could have gone. Upon turning around he notices something. Stifling a laugh and breaking into a full blown smile, he subtly waves Kai over, when they make eye contact. Kai nonchalantly makes his way over to him, Gyu mumbles something to him and he looks in the direction that Gyu was nodding. Trying to hide his own laugh, the two youngest members stand snickering, waiting for the members of BTS to walk away before exposing you to the group.

Once the groups bid each other goodbye, they both break out into hysterical laughter.

“What guys?” Yeonjun jumps at the unexpected hollering. But neither boy can speak, too consumed by laughter they both point to the semi open window.

“She didn’t” Taehyun launches himself over the ottoman in front of him rushing to the window. Soobin and Yeonjun right behind him. The three of them look out to see your figure hopping down from the last branch of the tree outside.

With lightning speed and zero hesitation, you had climbed out of the already opened window on the second floor. Stepped from the ledge onto a tree that's long, thick branches were supporting itself against the building. Then walked to the center of the large tree and climbed your way down.

Mass hysteria broke out between the 5 members.

“That’s it. We have to make her meet them.” Soobin exclaims, wiping a tear that fell down his cheek.

“Guys, I think I have a plan.” Yeonjun smirks. So they all huddled around to listen.

💜♾💜♾💜

Today was supposed to be your day off. But upon receiving a text from Soobin, saying they needed you there urgently for their concept proposal, you raced straight there. So there you were standing in the hall talking to an exec in a black oversized pullover hoodie and workout leggings. Today was about comfort over professionalism, well it was supposed to be.

But when you had finished your pleasant chat with the exec, he started apologizing profusely about something he couldn’t say. Trying to hide his chuckle, his eyes dart over your shoulder. Before you could press him about his comments, you were spun around and hoisted off of your feet. Draped over a shoulder like a sack of potatoes. In alarm you manage to struggle enough to see your kidnapper, Yeonjun.

“What are you dooooooiiiinnnng?” You whine, struggling more.

He says nothing, but turns down the hallway to the dance practice rooms.

“Put me down shrek.” You quote. Wiggling even harder to escape the ironclad grip on you.

“There’s no point Noona, just accept it.” A sweet cheerful voice, butts in, shoes coming into view as you tilt your head up to look.

“Really Kai, they have you in on this too?” You slump in defeat. “Fine, but don’t you dare fart.”

Your capture lets out a chuckle before entering the dance room. The other three members you can kind of see. Or at least their shoes. Your hood keeps flopping down and making it hard to tell.

“Guys seriously, why are you-” You begin as blood starts rushing to your head. Making you slightly dizzy.

“Hello Hyungs.” Yeonjun greets politely. Panic rising, you tilt your head to the side to look into the wall mirror, there you see all 7 members of BTS sitting on the floor, along with the other members of TXT standing around you. “This is Y/N-Noona, the real, not a ghost, producer.”

Realization hits you like a ton of bricks, as snickers and muffled laughs resonate behind you.

“Yeonjun…..” Your voice is a little shaky. “You did not just introduce me to BTS ass FIRST?!”

Everyone in the room breaks into rounds of full belly laughter as you are hoisted back over the shoulder, feet planted on the floor.

Turning shyly to the side, you make eye contact with each member of BTS. Your legs crumble beneath you, muttering ‘I could have lived my whole life without this’ angrily. You lay on the ground face down, hood over your head as more laughter ensues.

“You had to meet them at some point, even backwards!” Gyu exclaims between heaves of laughter, clutching his stomach .

Waving your hand blindly towards the members of TXT you bark “That’s it! We are no longer friends. Done, Forever, never again!”

Apologies begin to flow toward you but you ignore them. Eventually you ignore any comment that comes your way, still plastered to the floor, the 12 men begin to talk about other things. Completely unaware of you.

...Or so you thought….

“Uh guys…. She’s rolling away.” Yoongi points to you and your attempt to escape the room. Hands grab your ankles to halt your getaway.

“I hate all of you.” You groan up at Yeonjun, who still had hold of you. You give up, letting out a deep sight, wishing the ground would open from under you.

[shakey-hands]

please please can we get fukuzawa awkwardly having to tell ranpo he’s dating reader and the two of them start fighting and reader is subjected to it??? 😍😍

haha yeah. first ask that imma answer, let me know if you guys want more. my asks are open for any (except mineta gross) mha, ouran, or bungo characters :)

{this one is gonna be done with she/her pronouns but if you ask for gender neutral or he/him or any other pronouns, i can do it}

---

The clock struck two when Y/N looked at her phone, leg bouncing up and down in a way that always annoyed the people around her. Great. It was thirty minutes past their meeting time and her boyfriend still had not shown up with what she understood was his adopted son.

It had been a good plan. Meet on neutral territory, gas up (what Y/N assumed was) a teenage boy with a sweets addiction, and then break the news. Y/N was not sure why they needed to go through such lengthy troubles to inform her boyfriend’s son that they were dating. He was at least old enough to understand what dating was. And from what she had heard from Kunikida, Fukuzawa’s son had a very prominent dating life of his own. But Y/N trusted her boyfriend, no matter how many times he looked off into the distance with quiet wisdom that felt vague.

Y/N sipped her tea, realizing that caffeine would only worsen her anxiety. It didn’t matter how many times Fukuzawa and Kunikida tried to tell her that the meeting wouldn’t be a big deal and that the son would love her, she wasn’t so sure. He was working at the Armed Detective Agency and was good at what he did. At least those were Kunikida’s words as Y/N and him were quietly reading in the same room as they did on Saturday nights. While Y/N appreciated Kunikida for his straight forward/driven personality, he did not fare well in comforting her.

Which brought her to her boyfriend. His solid, piercing eyes would always soften as she talked about her day over their dinner dates and he would brush the back of his hand on her cheek in the moments they were alone with one another. While Y/N rarely noticed because she herself was too infatuated with him, Fukuzawa cared deeply for her after seven months of dating. Their last hurdle was introducing Y/N to Ranpo. Fukuzawa was not at all worried since Y/N had a knack for making sweets and made people feel as if they were special when she smiled at them. There was never a shortage of praise around her.

Y/N checked her phone again, hoping that an apology text would come through and she would not be left in the dark. That however was proving difficult. Fukuzawa was driving with Ranpo eating cotton candy in the passenger seat. He had to be bribed away from the sweets table Dazai had set up for some ungodly known reason to mess with Atsushi. It was embarrassing how long it took for Kunikida to pry Ranpo’s little grubby hands away from the snacks and then another amount of time for Fukuzawa to get Ranpo to put on his seatbelt.

It made Fukuzawa nervous that he was so late. He knew Y/N would be understanding, it was part of the reason he enjoyed her company so much. Knowing her, she would probably be bouncing her knee and staring down at the table, overthinking things. He, of course, was right.

As Fukuzawa was pulling into the parking lot, he spotted his girlfriend’s car. It was pristine, as always, and had a small cat paw sticker on the back left bumper. He smiled inwardly, realizing that he had been waiting for this. There was a future with Y/N and Fukuzawa couldn’t wait.

Ranpo still had yet to get out of the car, his glasses dangling from his shirt pocket and a light dusting of sugar crystals on his lips. He was pouting, of course. Kunikida did not pack enough snacks for the car ride, meaning Ranpo did not have the mental energy to get out of the car and go into whatever flop coffee shop the president insisted they go into. People were so stupid and Ranpo already just finished a case that was so obvious. The local police really needed to be more useful.

“Get out of the car,” Fukuzawa said, getting more and more agitated.

“No,” Ranpo said.

“Let’s go. I promise there will be sweets inside the shop.”

“So? There were sweets at the agency.”

Fukuzawa rolled his eyes, knowing Ranpo would sit in the car out of stubbornness. “Ranpo-”

“Yukichi?” A soft voice called out from the entrance of the cafe.

Fukuzawa turned to see Y/N standing right outside. She had a to-go cup of something hot in her hands, jacket sleeves pulled over her hands to stop the warmth from burning her skin. Even though it was overcast and windy, Y/N still seemed to have a certain glow about her that always took Fukuzawa’s breath away. She waved timidly, not knowing why he was awkwardly standing behind his parked car with a weird defensive stance. He nodded over to her, giving her a genuine smile before turning his head back to the car and glaring.

“Is everything okay?”

Y/N began to approach her boyfriend. The only other time she had seen her boyfriend have this stance was when she had bumped into some eyebrowless pale emo kid in an accident at the mall. Fukuzawa seemed to pick the weird fights, but she just smiled through it. His eyes held a certain annoyance the Y/N had not seen before. Her eyebrows furrowed as she took a step off the curb. Fukuzawa held out his hand, motioning her to not get closer. Y/N paused, unsure about his demeanor.

“Ranpo, don’t make me ask again.” Fukuzawa’s voice held a bass to it that Y/N had never heard before. She could only assume it was his dad voice that he has never had to use with her.

The window rolled down on the old car for just a crack. “I don’t remember a question being asked.”

The voice was whiny and slightly muffled, as if the speaker had sweets in his mouth. Fukuzawa rolled his eyes and put his hand on the glass. Y/N was slightly shocked by her boyfriend, but decided to let him do his thing. She was not a parent and the closest time she had ever been was when she had a babysitting gig decades ago when she was a teen. While she was interested in a family, she had neither the time nor mental capacity to follow through. So she stepped back onto the curb and took a sip of her tea, relishing in the warmth it provided.

“Ranpo, if you don’t get out of the damned car, there will be no sweets at the agency for a year.”

A clear threat had been made.

The door slammed into the car next to it, causing a dent that Fukuzawa watched form. Out from the passenger seat, a short man with a slight pout crawled out of the car. Definitely not the young teenager Y/N had been expecting. He was only slightly taller than Y/N and wore a cape. In fact, he looked like a full grown adult, maybe only ten years younger than Y/N. Her face said it all, though neither men were looking at her. They just stared one another down before Fukuzawa remembered his loving girlfriend stood awkwardly behind him. He motioned for her to come over.

Ranpo did not look impressed as he looked her up and down. Y/N looked too ordinary to know Fukuzawa in her jeans and plain jacket combo. Her shoes were dirty from all the yard work she had done throughout the years. As she got closer, Ranpo watched closely as Fukuzawa gently touched the small of her back before wrapping his arm around her waist. While Ranpo had never seen the President act like this, he did not care.

“Ranpo, I would like you to meet-”

Ranpo yawned loudly. “She’s way too old for me. Almost to hag status.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. She began to stumble over her words, not knowing how to respond. Fukuzawa’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe that Ranpo would even think he was trying to set them up. Ranpo made a disgusted face.

“No offense lady, but you don’t even look fun. Like all you do is sit in the dark and contemplate the excitement of frostingless yellow cake.”

How do you respond to that?

Y/N looked down, not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. She was suddenly thankful for the sudden gust of wind that burned her cheeks, a sign that snow was rolling in. Who insults like that? The little sniffle that Y/N let out set Fukuzawa back into the present instead of the daydream he had slipped into where Ranpo got his ass beat.

“You can’t talk to her like that,” Fukuzawa said sternly. “And she’s not here for you.”

“Obviously. She could never handle the Greatest Detective.”

“No!” Fukuzawa said, tightening his grip on her waist. “I wanted you two to meet because we’ve been dating for a while and I thought it was finally time for you two to meet.”

Ranpo suddenly scoffed dramatically. Once. Twice. Three times. “And here I thought we agreed never to keep secrets! And all this time you’ve been giving your praise to someone else!”

Fukuzawa looked at the small man incredulously. “I’m allowed to date, Ranpo.”

“Not really!” Ranpo exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the air. Those who were passing by continuously glanced, wondering why they were arguing so loudly in a public space. “How gross is that! You’re like centuries old!”

“Look, I just thought you’d want to be in the know. If I had known you’d throw a tantrum, I would have just waited until after we were married.”

In that moment, Ranpo and Y/N spoke simultaneously:

“Tantrum?!”

“Married!?”

“Oh I’ll show you a tantrum!”

Ranpo pushed the old car to make it move back and forth in its parked place before beginning to punch the glass. There was no real power behind his throws, so there were soft thumps being emitted. Next he started to kick the tires, also without power behind his movements. He truly had transformed into a toddler, making the people walking by walk a little faster. He came off as some random crazy person on the street rather than an acclaimed detective.

Fukuzawa didn’t know where to look until a warm soft hand held his cheek, guiding his eyes towards Y/N’s. She smiled softly, ignoring Ranpo as he began to get physical. Her smile caused a chain reaction in Fukuzawa’s heart, making him resist the urge to get down on one knee at that very instance. He did have the ring adding weight to his pocket. She kissed his forehead, making him awkwardly bend down as she chuckled against his skin.

“You want to marry me?”

Fukuzawa blushed slightly. “In due time, of course.”

She chuckled again and nodded. “Of course.”

“I’m not calling her mom!”

[skylarmoon71]

Bumblebee (Extra)

"Nothing exciting ever happens here, it's so damn boring. " your friend complained. You were sure if she knew half of what you did, she'd be thankful for the boring days.

"By the way, Mr. Henderson got a new assistant, I heard he's a real cutie, maybe we can get you a boyfriend."

"I'm not interested. " you didn't care for anyone but Bumblebee. Just the thought of him had you smiling. You opened your locker, switching books. "You keep saying that. Do you have a secret I should know about?" she raised a brow.

"Quit playing, it's nothing like that. I'm just interested in someone else already."

"I know, that's what you always say, when can I meet your mystery crush."

"It's a long distance thing, so who knows when." she just looked unimpressed. If you say so (Y/N)."

You kept walking, still chatting with your friend. Someone coming out hurriedly from a door in front of you made you backtrack. The male spun around, almost knocking into you. The frantic way in which he moved indicated that maybe he was looking for someone. When his brown eyes locked unto you, his smile got brighter.

He was decked down in a pair of slacks and a button up white shirt. The dark hair matched his pretty eyes. You weren't sure if he was a student of part of the faculty. You barely paid much mind to people other than the ones you conversed with on a regular basis.

"(Y/N)!" the excitement on the man's face was unnerving. What threw you completely off is his voice. It sounded exactly like the one in your dream that time with Bee. Your cheeks color, and you take some more steps back. "W-Who are you?" You can tell he wants to talk, but his eyes move to your friend.

"I'm uhhh, well that's a good question I'm.."

He's not really forming sentences, or making much sense. Your friend however is gushing.

"No need to get bashful, I can tell when I'm being a third wheel. See ya (Y/N)!" Her enthusiasm is high as she completely abandons you with this strange boy.

"She likes sushi!!" she calls, right before she's gone, all the way around the corner. You know she doesn't suspect that this guy is in any way harmful, but you don't have the same level of trust. The last guy that ran into you like this turned out to be a psychotic Decepticon hellbent on assassinating you. You aren't ready to replay that record anytime soon. You keep the distance between the both of you, watching him wearily.

"Listen, I don't know who you are, but this place is packed with people. There's no way you'd risk getting caught here." you're on the defense. But at least this time you're not alone in the building.

"What? Wait no no, I'm not a Decepticon (Y/N)." some more students buzz by, a few girls sending the male a little smile and wink. He doesn't even seem to register it. His focus is completely on you.

"I know I look different like this but I-" He takes a step forward, and you move back. He raises his hand to assure you there's no need to be afraid.

"It's me (Y/N). Bumblebee." You don't really believe at first, but when the quick glimmer of blue rushes over his orbs, you gasp in surprise. That look, the one he'd given so many times when you were just lounging around, There was no mistaking it.

"Bee..." He smiles in relief, rushing over and pulling you into his arms. He picks you up, spinning you around laughing, and you clutch unto him unprepared, letting out a small squeal.

"B-But how did you.." You just saw him this morning and he in no way looked like this.

"I'll tell you everything."

This was about to be one hell of a story.

~~~~

The next few hours feel like torture. You're so anxious for school to let out so you can talk to Bee, who you found out was the assistant mentioned earlier. The entire day he spent practically at your side when he wasn't working. You were still adjusting to the fact that he was walking around in your school. Another shocker was his ease carrying out the job. Being an advanced robot probably helped a lot in that department. The ringing of the final bell goes off, and before you can seek out Bumblebee, he's already found you.

"(Y/N)!!" His call directs a lot of female attention in your spot, and you avert your eyes. There were no doubt a few bitter girls. Bumblebee catches up, taking your hand into his. The smile he sends you banishes the stares you once felt, and he guided you out the school doors. Out of earshot of the other students, Bumblebee goes on a full on rant.

"This is so awesome! I never thought being human was this incredible, of course humans are amazing. Not as amazing as you of course (Y/N). You guys do some much down here although you're so tiny. Doesn't it get tiring being this small. And the girls at your school are really curious too, they kept asking so many questions. "

They were definitely hitting on him.

"I'm just so happy to be able to be with you like this. When Optimus first told me about it I was so skeptical, but look at me, I'm human!" his yell earned a weird look from a passer by, and you pulled him off to the side.

"M-Maybe don't say stuff like that in the open okay Bee." he looks at the woman who just walked by, giving a little smile and wave. She just keeps walking forward.

"Huh, thought humans liked it when you waved." he looks down at his hand to maybe inspect it to see if he did it wrong, and you just watch him. Parts of this still barely made sense, but you had to admit, the human version of Bumblebee was almost as cute as the autobot one. He still held that innocence and curiosity.

"Hey Bee, If you're here, who's' with Sam?"

"Oh, Ironhide. He said being human is overrated. He's gonna be Sam's ride for a while. I can still transform you know, wanna see!" you shake your head.

"N-Not here!" he blinks. "Oh, right right. Good call." just like that he's grinning again.

"I'm so glad I can hold hands with you like this." he takes your hand softly in his, and you do love the warmth it gives off. It's the same way you always feel around him.

"Let's get back to my house." Maybe when you're in your own environment you'd be able to question him freely.

~

The moment you step through your door you fully expect your mother to be there. Because for once, you're able to show her the boy you've been madly in love with for months. But you meet nothing but silence. "Mom?" you enter, and Bumblebee follows close behind. When you make out the note stuck to the fridge you sigh.

"Hey sweetheart, I have an overnight shift. There's money for pizza on the table when you get hungry. Enjoy!"

Figures.

"Hey Bee, can you come here for a second?"

"Yep!" He's by your side in seconds, and you pull out your phone, switching the camera.

"I just wanna take a picture to send to my mom. I was kind of hoping she'd be here, but she has to work late today. Say cheese." he turns to the camera and as you're about to snap the picture, he presses a kiss to your cheeks. You blush, a bit unprepared. The camera snaps it and you lower your hand, looking at him shyly. He just returns it with a cheeky smile. His eyes move down to the picture. "I love it." he mutters.

Although you know this is Bumblebee, to you it's still a bit strange. As a human, it almost feels like he's a different person. A lot more forward about everything. His eyes shift in your direction as you make your mini assessment, and something flickers in his brown orbs.

The minute they zero in on your lips, you take a step back lowering your head as you tuck the phone into your pocket. You start a trip to your room, and Bumblebee trails behind. The silence that follows has you a bit unnerved, so you decided now is as good a time as any to find out how it all came about.

"W-Well how about you tell me how this all happened Bee."

"Yeah.." His answer sounds distracted, and you peep to the side to read his expression as you're walking up the stairs. Upon entering your room, you open the door for him to step in. He does, closing it as he enters. His eyes dart from one side to the next, and the excitement returns tenfold. His eyes shine an electric blue, and you can only guess it's a lapse of control because he's so eager to see and understand it all.

"Your room is amazing!! " To you it isn't that great. There's a few posters on the walls of your favorite bands and artists. Your desk with all your school equipment and some little nicks and knacks to the side. The bed is situated a bit closer to the window that gives you a view of the neighborhood below.

"Thank you Bee."

His enthusiasm is so adorable, and it just reminds you why you adore the Autobot. He moves closer to the bed, poking the soft surface. "I-Is it alright if I sit down?" You nod.

"Of course Bee, make yourself at home." He's grinning, flopping back on the bed with a little cheer, and you giggle.

"Awesome!!"

"For you I guess this is all brand new. You guys don't exactly sleep like the rest of us. "

That and his adjusted size, you probably would have a similar reaction if you were in his shoes.

"I'm glad you like it." You placed your bag down, taking a seat on the bed. Bumblebee sat upright, shifting closer to you, and you just titled your head with a smile.

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm just really happy that we're this close."

There he goes again, saying stuff like that to make your insides flutter in the most heavenly way.

His body is now facing you, and you can practically feel the pull he's giving off as he looks at you. He bits his lower lip, and you can hear the small breath he takes as he begins to lean in. You pull back, standing and wringing your hands. "A-Are you hungry? We should get something to eat. '' you try to take a step to the door.

"Why do you do that?" you freeze in place. Bumblebee stands, and the hurt that he expresses causes your heart to constrict. He looks down at his palm as if searching for something.

"I thought if I looked like this it would bring us closer, but it seems to have done the exact opposite. Am I not appealing to you as a human?"

You rush over to him shaking your head. "Of course not Bee, you'd never be unappealing to me no matter how you look. Autobot or human, I love you regardless." As the words leave your lips, you become still. Neither of you have really said that particular word yet. You look away bashfully.

"I love you too (Y/N), so much."

He doesn't even need to say the words, you already know. Nevertheless, you love hearing it.

He takes your hands in his, and the warmth is familiar.

"Then why do you keep running from me?"

You need to explain, but it's just so embarrassing. The red that graces your cheeks only adds to Bumblebee's puzzle.

"Bee...do you remember when I kept avoiding you that week." His brows knit in utter confusion now. What did that have to do with anything. Truth be told he rather not remember. Because it was a tough week for him.

He was so convinced that he'd done something to tarnish your friendship, but he had no idea what it was. That's what drove him crazy. "I remember." He answers tightly.

"It wasn't because of anything you did, and I should have explained it all that day I was just so embarrassed about it all so I tried to deal with it on my own but I just made everything worse."

"I don't understand, what did you try to deal with?"

"Bee, I had a dirty dream about you."

"Dirty?" Oh how you wish you didn't have to explain that concept to him.

"A sexual dream." you clarified.

He stilled. "Sexual.." His brain seems to be computing the meaning behind the words. When he does, you can see the way his eyes become wide.

"B-But w-what I-I was still an h-how did you...I-I.." you cover your face.

"I-I'm sorry!!" you're mortified. "N-No it's fine I just never thought that you felt that way. For so long too." He sounds almost in awe. There were so many questions whirling in his mind. He knew since that day that he followed you to the warehouse that something was different. The way he felt about you was not the same as Sam or even Mikaela.

"(Y/N), how long have you...been in love with me?" He really needs an answer. It's important.

"I think..since that day that you touched me.."

Your hand moves to your cheek, the memory of it all rushing back. There was a light in his eyes that just struck you and nothing had been the same.

Bumblebee stands, and as he approaches, you kind of want to run. Not because you're scared, but the emotion that is revealed to you, it's so prominent, strong and almost raw. His hand reaches out, sliding against your cheek. You only manage one syllable before he claims your lips. A short sound leaves your lips, and his free hand secures around your waist, pulling you flush to his form. The sudden movement causes your hands to flatten on his chest. Your body is slowly but surely catching up with what's happening, and you grip at his shirt, letting out a moan.

"Bee.."

He doesn't relent. The eager kisses feel as though he's been deprived of the opportunity for centuries. Bumblebee's hold is firm, soft, loving. Your melting just by the sensations that travel through your body. He is pretty good at this. He slowly backs you up, and you fall ungracefully unto the bed. He barely processes it. Because his lips still have you captive. One of his hands press into the mattress, and the other links with your own, fingers entangled. This very moment, you pray that'll never end. He finally pulls back to regain his breath, and you're also fighting to get yours. You're both heaving, and you grin at him. He smiles back, pecking your lips.

"I'm really going to enjoy being human."

There's no doubt about that.

[quickspinner]

Oops - Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

(See part 1 for summary and warnings)

Marinette was having a hard time keeping her mind on girls’ night. Rose and Juleka had just signed a new lease to move in together in the coming month, and it should have been exciting, but somehow she just couldn’t get into the discussions about decor and whose couch they should keep and how many dishes they really needed.

Marinette had other things on her mind. 

Her phone buzzed in her hand and she glanced at the others quickly before turning it over. 

Sorry, babe, I’ve got a gig that day. Wish I could.

Marinette bit her lip, trying not to be upset. She started to type a reply, when another set of messages came in. 

You could come if you want We could go home together after Just go easy on the drinks this time ;)

Marinette giggled, but sent back You sure? I won’t be in the way?

I’d want you there even if you were. You’re small, we can stick you in an instrument case if we need to

Marinette laughed aloud at that. 

Should I dress up? she typed.

Anything you wear looks good on my floor. Do what makes you happy 

Marinette pressed her legs together, bouncing her knees, and then sent, before she could rethink it, Doing you makes me happy.

There was a long pause before his next message, and then it was just an address and a time, followed by Can’t wait to see you Friday . And Saturday morning. Don’t make lunch plans. 

Marinette gave a little squeal, hiding her face in her hands. 

All of the girls were looking at her with varying expressions. Juleka and Alix looked amused, Rose excited, and Mylène just looked happy for her. 

Alya was looking at her with a slow spreading grin. “Well weeeeell,” she drawled, leaning on the counter between them. “Let me guess. Setting up your next booty call with your new boytoy?”

There was enough truth in that to make Marinette blush deeply. Alya cackled. 

“Details, girl,” she said, slapping the counter. “You’ve been doing this guy for weeks now, what’s the story? He must be good to still put that dopey look on your face after all this time.”

“What—n-no!” Marinette spluttered, looking at the rest of the girls. Juleka was rolling her eyes while Rose and Mylène covered giggles. Alix had that same amused expression as she shook her head slightly. “I’m not gonna talk about that,” Marinette insisted. “It’s none of your business!” 

“Come on, Mari, spill,” Alya said, leaning forward again. “It can’t be that embarrassing. Does he fuck you up against a wall with all your clothes on and call you a naughty girl?” 

Marinette choked, and Alya laughed. 

“Oh, Marinette, you’re such an innocent,” she chortled, sitting back with a smirk like she had gained some kind of victory. 

Marinette’s face burned with both shame and...anger. How dare Alya dismiss her just like that? Like they were still silly teenagers and Marinette couldn’t even talk to a guy, let alone take him home and—suddenly she realized she was tired of Alya’s patronizing, and on top of that, she felt insulted on Luka’s behalf. Taking a breath, Marinette straightened her shoulders and put on the best air of nonchalance she could manage despite her red face. “He probably would, if I asked him to,” she said airily. “But he really likes to take his time for that part.” Summoning up every ounce of the boldness Luka inspired in her, she blurted, “If he wants to make me come fast and hard, he uses his hands.” 

The entire room went silent as they all stared at her. Pretending like she didn’t feel like she was going to throw up from nerves and embarrassment any second, Marinette added dreamily, “He has amazing hands.” 

Alya raised her eyebrows, clearly amused and at least half disbelieving. “Not his tongue?” 

“He’s a great kisser,” Marinette smiled, deliberately misunderstanding. Alya grinned wolfishly. 

“No, girl, I mean when he e—“

“Oh, he’s great with his mouth on me too,” Marinette interrupted, eyes widening innocently. “It’s just, when he uses his hands, he can still use his voice. Mm, he has such a sexy voice.” The shudder that went through her was entirely real. “It makes me so…” she couldn’t quite bring herself to say it, and took a sip of her wine instead.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I can’t believe that you like this guy dirty-talking you,” Alya accused, narrowing her eyes as she set her cup down with a slam. “Little miss sweetness and light. You can’t even handle it when we talk about fucking.”

Marinette shrugged as if she was completely indifferent to what Alya believed. “You don’t say it like he does,” she commented, and took another sip of her drink, staring off into the distance as if she’d completely forgotten Alya was there. She was stretching the truth a bit, she knew. It wasn’t dirty talk, not really, not the way Alya was thinking. Luka didn’t have to be filthy to work her up; he could recite phone listings in that hot, growling voice, and it would be enough to put her over the edge, so when he told her she was beautiful, that he loved the way she smelled or tasted or felt or sounded, or asked what she wanted, or suggested something he wanted her to do for him, or panted out how close he was…

She shivered again. 

Alya didn’t need to know that though. Marinette flicked her eyes around the others, a little nervous about their reactions. Mylène was smiling, Juleka was smirking, and Rose had her hands clasped together and was practically vibrating with excitement. Alix was snickering behind her hand.

“Aw, did Marinette just shatter all your illusions, Alya?” Alix laughed. “You just can’t handle that your oh-so-innocent bestie has a hot side piece.”

Marinette frowned. “Can you have a side piece if you don’t have a...a main piece?”

Alix patted her shoulder. “You can be your own main piece.” 

“Marinette,” Alya said, putting her drink down, suddenly serious. “This isn’t like you. Just who is this guy, anyway? Does he even have a day job?” 

“Yes,” Marinette frowned. “He’s a teacher.” It wasn’t a lie; Luka did teach private music lessons in addition to his performance work, but with Alya giving her that judgemental look, Marinette didn’t intend to give her any details. 

“Ooh, hot for teacher, nice.” Alix reached over and, though feeling a little foolish, Marinette met her high five, but Alya looked unconvinced.

“Well, just be careful,” Alya cautioned her. “You’re still on the rebound—” Am I? Marinette found herself wondering. It didn’t feel like it, actually, when she thought about it. “—and I know you’re feeling pretty vulnerable right now and I don’t want this guy taking advantage of you. If you wanna have fun with him, whatever, but be careful what you tell him and don’t loan him any money.” She sighed. “And especially, don’t fall in love with him. He’s a good time, and that’s it, and he’ll only break your heart if you start wanting more.” 

Marinette just stared at her, mouth hanging open slightly, as Alya turned away. There was a tense moment and then Rose piped up, “All right, are we ready for the movie? Let’s get started!” The girls all murmured agreement and began moving toward the living room.

Marinette put her drink down, 

“Hey,” Alix said, leaning over her shoulder. “Alya’s just trying to look out for you. She didn’t mean it how it sounded, you know that. If you say this guy is cool, I believe you, but it never hurts to watch out for yourself, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Marinette managed a weak smile. “I get it. Sure.” 

***

Marinette was having a shit day. One of her underlings had screwed up at work, which meant, to the bosses, that Marinette screwed up, and then she had to smile and take in the teeth from her bosses while soothing her horrified intern and trying to deal with the problems he’d caused. She’d complained about it to Alya when she got home, and stupidly, she’d mentioned that knowing she had a date with Luka tonight was the only thing that got her through the day. That earned her another well-intentioned condescending talking-to about being careful and not getting invested in something that was clearly only temporary. “I know you, Marinette,” Alya insisted. “He’ll say something sweet just trying to get you naked and you’ll get infatuated and start planning your whole future while the whole time he’s got one foot out the door.” Nino, who’d showed up to pick up Alya in the middle of it, had grudgingly sided with Alya over the whole thing. 

“It’s not really like you, Nette,” Nino said with an uncomfortable shrug. “I mean, I don’t want to be all judgy and weird. I just…well, you’ve...” He’d trailed off and hustled Alya out the door when he saw tears in Marinette’s eyes, leaving her at least with the dignity of breaking down in private. 

She flopped over the arm of the couch and sobbed until her phone beeped a reminder at her. Luka , she thought, touching her swollen face. She couldn’t go out like this. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to anymore. She just wanted to crawl into bed and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

But she had this date, and…

Alya’s words flooded back and fresh tears fell down her face. Maybe Luka wouldn’t care if she canceled. Maybe…maybe she shouldn’t be feeling so sick about that thought. Maybe Alya was right and she was on the road to another heartbreak. Luka had never said anything, after that first day, about wanting anything more. They weren’t always having sex when they were together, they did other things, but they did always end up in bed eventually. But that didn’t mean anything! Right? Maybe—Marinette sighed. Maybe she didn’t need anything else to spiral about tonight, thanks so much, Alya. Why wasn’t she allowed to just have fun without Alya telling her what was best for her? She enjoyed spending time with Luka, and yeah, he made it clear he enjoyed all the... intimate things they did, but that didn’t mean— 

Focus , she reminded herself, wiping her eyes again. She still had a date tonight that she was in no condition to go to, and if she didn’t call soon Luka would already be on his way to meet her. 

She took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself and called him.

“Hey, beautiful, what’s up?” Luka asked, his smooth voice light and cheerful.

“Hi,” Marinette squeaked, and then gulped down a sob. Shit, she should have texted, she sounded awful.

Luka’s tone shifted immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“N-nothing major, I just...I had a really bad day and...I don’t think I’m up for our date tonight. I’m so sorry, I know it’s really last minute, I hope you haven’t left yet, I just—” She caught a tear on her hand and wiped it away, trying not to sniffle into the phone.

“Of course it’s okay,” Luka said, his voice low and soft. “Don’t force yourself, it’s fine. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No,” Marinette choked, her throat tightening again. 

“Okay. Well, how about if I grab some takeout and bring you dinner? I can pick up something for your roommate too if you like.”

“Oh, you don’t—you don’t have to do that. Alya’s out with her boyfriend, I’m not sure she’s even coming back tonight. I mean, you don’t have to pick up anything at all, I can just scrounge something, I'll be fine, I think we have some...some ramen or something I can make…I’m not very hungry right now anyway.” Ugh, she was a babbling idiot, why hadn’t she just texted him.

“Late lunch?”

“No…” Marinette frowned, trying to think. “I don’t think I ate lunch.”

“Thought so,” Luka chuckled. 

“B-but—I—“

“I don’t have to stay if you’d rather be alone,” Luka told her, his voice so full of sympathy that she wanted to cry all over again. “But at least let me bring you something to eat. It’s not like I had other plans. What’s your favorite food to cry into?” His tone turned teasing. “I can at least bring you some real ramen instead of the instant stuff, if that’s really what you want.” 

Marinette bit her lip, picturing for a moment the congee she used to get at the shop by her old office. She loved it, because it reminded her of her mother’s, but she hadn’t had in in ages because they didn’t deliver to this part of town, and—

“Anything you want,” Luka told her softly. “Come on, what are you thinking about?” 

“It’s out of your way,” Marinette said, shifting on her couch. “I...give me just a second, I’ll think of something, um…” 

“Marinette,” Luka said, a touch of amusement in his voice. “Just tell me what you want. I’m all over this town for gigs all the time, a few extra subway stops won’t kill me.” 

She told him, and gave him directions. 

“Okay. I’ll go pick it up and be there as soon as I can. You take a nice long bath or a shower, or at least wash your face, okay? Get comfortable for a night in.”

Marinette smiled a little at his prescription, and whispered, “Okay.” She sat there a few minutes longer after they hung up, trying to gather enough caring to get up and do as he suggested. Finally she made it up off the couch, and drifted into the bathroom.

She cried more in the shower, but she did feel better after standing in the hot water, which at least relieved some of the stiffness and stinging of her face and eyes, and helped her breathe easier. She sat on her bed wrapped in her towel for a long moment, feeling limp and languid, but if she was sitting here naked when Luka showed up, he’d probably think she wanted some other kind of comforting, and she just wasn’t sure she felt like it tonight. She dug out one of her more modest nightgowns, made of thin, soft fabric that fell to her calves, with wide straps and a shallow scoop neck that covered most of her chest. It was still pretty, because Marinette liked pretty things, but it wasn’t seductive or anything like that. 

Not that she was in any condition to seduce anybody, she thought, as she pressed her fingers below her aching eyes. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to let Luka come over. Would it hurt his feelings if she made him leave the food at the door?

Marinette had almost decided to do just that when she heard him knock. She paused with her hand on the doorknob, and then sighed. Well, if her puffy, blotchy face and stuffed up nose grossed him out and he didn’t want to see her anymore, then at least that would be one less thing for Alya to bitch at her about, she thought as she opened the door.

Luka’s expression shifted from concern to sympathy as soon as she came into view. “Aw, come here,” he said, reaching for her as he stepped inside. Marinette let him wrap his arm around her and leaned into him as he squeezed her. He kept her under his arm as he walked to the table, where he put the bag of food down and then turned to embrace her fully, folding her in a tight hug, as he swayed slightly and rubbed her back. It felt amazing, actually, and Marinette pressed her face into his chest, inhaling his scent and enjoying the firm feel of him, warm and solid. 

“You want to eat at the table or somewhere else?” he asked. 

“Couch?” she mumbled into his chest, and he steered her over to it. 

“Sit down then, and I’ll get it all ready.”

He brought her the bowl a few minutes later, sitting down next to her as he made sure she had a grip on it before he let go. “Do you want me to go?” he asked, tucking a damp lock of hair back from her face. “Or would you rather have some company? I won’t be offended, if you’d rather be alone.” 

Marinette looked up at him and opened her mouth, and then changed her mind, looking down with a blush. “Actually some company sounds nice,” she mumbled. 

Luka smiled, and leaned forward to kiss her temple gently. “Let me grab my food then.”

When he returned with his plate, he sat next to Marinette and put his arm around her shoulders. Marinette cuddled against his side, tucking her feet under herself. She admired the ease with which Luka balanced his plate on his knee as he ate, but then from some of the stories he’d told her she supposed he was probably used to eating in weird places

The congee felt good on her raw throat, and she ate almost the whole bowl before she sighed and set it on the coffee table to snuggle more firmly against Luka’s side. He’d already finished, and he put both arms around her. She told him a little bit about her day, leaving out the details of the argument with Alya, and Luka made sympathetic noises and kissed her forehead. 

Alya’s wrong about him , Marinette thought, tucking her face against his neck. He’d never treat anyone the way she thinks, even if it was only physical. He’s too sweet. And I don’t...I don’t think that’s what this is. I think...maybe he really meant what he said at the cafe. Maybe he still does. She took a shaky breath, and Luka’s face turned a little closer to hers, so she knew he was listening.

Marinette chickened out. “Could we...maybe get in bed and watch a movie?” 

“Sure, I’d love that.” Luka smiled. “What’s your favorite thing to watch when you feel crappy?”

Marinette blushed. “You’ll laugh.”

Luka grinned. “So what if I do? If you like it, that’s all that matters. Be selfish tonight, Marinette.” 

Luka followed her to her bedroom, and his eyebrows shot up when she produced a dusty old DVD with a picture of a bus on it. “Speed?” he said, sitting on the bed, and then bit his lip. He held up a finger, turned away from Marinette, and buried his face in her pillow as he laughed. Marinette grabbed her other pillow and whacked him with it. 

“I told you you’d laugh,” she pouted as Luka pushed himself up and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I love Keanu Reeves.” 

“Give it here, and get comfy,” he told her, getting up. Marinette gave him the movie, and he put it in as she tossed the blanket back to the bottom of the bed and got under the sheet. Then she had an internal panic attack as Luka kicked off his shoes and socks and shimmied off his jeans. Oh, maybe she should have—but he’d never have been comfortable if she made him stay dressed, and it didn’t mean they were going to…Stupid, they could have stayed on the couch, why did she invite him to bed?

Barely thinking, Marinette caught the hem of his shirt just before he went to pull it off. “Can you...leave it on?” she asked, and blushed when he looked at her quizzically. “I really like cuddling with you but I...I just—”

“Just?” Luka asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Never mind, it’s stupid,” Marinette sighed, letting go, and feeling like an idiot. “You should be comfortable.

“So should you,” Luka said, sitting back down on the bed. “I can wear a shirt if you want, it’s no big deal.” He reached over and smoothed back her hair—now mostly dry, thankfully. “Is something wrong? You know you can tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable.” 

Oh, she was the worst. He was so kind to her and she was the worst , and how could she admit anything like this to him? Marinette hung her head, and told a truth that wasn’t the truth. “I just...don’t like it when our skin sticks together,” she confessed, and then put her hands over her face. “I’m so sorry. Forget I said anything. I’m being stupid.”

“I’m not forgetting anything,” Luka laughed, sliding under the sheet beside her. “Why are you acting like you did something wrong?” 

“It’s...not very romantic,” Marinette sighed, wrinkling her nose. 

Luka rolled his eyes. “I’d rather you be comfortable than preserve some imaginary aesthetic that no one but us would even be aware of. I don’t mind wearing my shirt or keeping the sheet pulled up if it makes you more comfortable.” He slid down a bit, and stretched his arm out towards her.  Marinette snuggled up next to him again, and sighed contentedly as she rested her cheek against his chest, glad that he wore a soft, slightly worn t-shirt instead of a crisp dress shirt. 

“Comfy now?” he asked, his hand sliding up to massage the back of her neck. 

“Mm,” she agreed, and leaned into his touch with a hum. Eventually they slithered down to lay flat in the bed, Luka curling against her back with his head on her pillow, murmuring sly comments about the movie every now and then that made Marinette giggle, and occasionally reach back to elbow him when she thought he was getting too far out of line. No one, she told him, dissed Keanu in her bed. 

“Yes ma’am,” he agreed, laughing into her hair before he kissed the top of her head. Marinette smiled. 

It was nice, having him snuggled up against her, his teasing voice in her ear, and Marinette’s mood was lifting with each passing moment. She found herself focusing on his broad hand resting on his stomach, his breath tickling the back of her neck, and the warmth of him behind her, the brush of his chest against her back when he breathed. Heat began to pool low in her belly, and her breathing quickened. She pressed back a little, just enough that her back was resting against her chest now, and Luka nuzzled her neck, placing a little kiss below her ear before settling again. Marinette sighed, annoyed with herself. Here she had been worried about giving him the wrong idea, but now that she was comfortable and relaxed, she was starting to change her mind. 

Marinette sniffed experimentally, and found she was breathing much better. She shifted slightly, biting her lip, and then rolled over to face Luka. He blinked at her a little sleepily, and then he smiled. “I’m glad you didn’t revoke my bed privileges. I’m really comfortable right now,” he murmured. “You look like you’re feeling better.” . 

“I am,” she said, and wiggled a little closer, her body already warming at the thought of his touch. She leaned up and kissed him, and any hesitation she’d still been feeling vanished at the soft feel of his mouth against hers. It seemed to wake Luka up too, because his hand went to her face and he returned her kiss with equal enthusiasm. Marinette caught hold of his shirt, and tugged him closer when he would have leaned back. “Can I be selfish, Luka?” she breathed, and felt him shudder as she kissed him again. “Even after all you’ve done for me? Can I ask for more?”

“Always,” he rumbled, rolling up onto his elbow to follow her as she kept tugging on his collar, wiggling to get beneath him. She gasped as he pressed against her, and arched her body up into his, suddenly feeling desperate. Had he been turned on this whole time and said nothing? Alya is so wrong about him. 

“Comfortable , huh?” she teased, and Luka grinned sheepishly.

“I was,” he defended, “Mostly. I can ignore it when I have to, and you didn’t seem like you were up for much.” He kissed her softly.  

“I wasn’t,” she admitted, and then rolled her hips up into him. Luka groaned, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as he grabbed at her hip, and her own eyes closed in pleasure. “I am now,” she sighed. “Please, Luka.” She shivered as she felt the fabric of her nightgown bunch under his big hands, the hem sliding up her calves and over her knees. 

Alya was wrong about him, Marinette was sure, looking up into his eyes as he bent down to kiss her gently, but thoroughly. He only broke the kiss when he finally found the hem of the nightgown. “Can I take my shirt off now?” he asked teasingly as he dragged the nightgown up over her head. Marinette made a muffled sound. “What?” he laughed, but his laugh cut off when she pressed her hips up into him again. 

“I said, yes please,” she told him smugly as he reached back for his collar.  

Marinette settled her arms around his neck and pulled him down into her, eager now for the press of his skin against hers. Luka’s hands carded into her hair, tipping her face to the perfect angle as his mouth descended on hers again. She spared one fleeting thought fr Alya’s warnings before she gave herself up to the moment.

Alya is wrong about Luka...but she might be right about me. Maybe I am falling in love with him. 

***

The movie menu screen had been playing for a while when Luka finally picked up the remote and turned the tv off. “I’m going to grab a drink,” Luka said, kissing Marinette’s jaw. “You want something?” 

“Yes, please,” Marinette sighed. “I don’t think I can move yet.” 

Luka chuckled and kissed her again. “Be right back.” 

Grinning to himself, Luka stopped to pull his boxers and jeans on and made his way to the refrigerator, leaning down to find the water bottles he knew were tucked into the back for him. He’d gotten picky about water on the road, so Marinette, thoughtful as always, kept a few bottles of his favorite brand for him. He grabbed one and cracked it open, taking a long gulp, and then bent to reach in and grab the filter pitcher to make a glass for Marinette. 

“Excuse me?”

Luka jumped and straightened, and turned around to find a woman standing in the apartment doorway, lit from the hall behind. She had one hand on her hip and the other on the doorknob, where a set of keys was still hanging. 

“Hey,” he said, shutting the refrigerator door. “You must be Alya. I’m Luka. I’m Marinette’s—ah—” He’d almost said boyfriend, but he wasn’t, technically, and he suddenly realized he had no idea what word to use. “Friend,” he finally finished lamely, acutely aware of how the word hung between them as he stood there half-naked and disheveled. He lifted the water bottle to his lips again, still parched. “Sorry, we didn’t realize you were coming home tonight.” 

He turned to get a glass from the cabinet, and felt Alya’s eyes on him as he poured the water for Marinette and put the pitcher back. He glanced up and, as he suspected, the look she was giving him was not one of appreciation. Luka had seen that look before and knew that she was seeing the dye and the piercings and the tattoos and not much else. He waited for her to say something, but when she didn’t seem inclined to, he shrugged. “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” he said quickly, and then made his way past her and back to Marinette’s room. “I’ll let Marinette know you’re home.” 

He shut Marinette’s bedroom door behind him, blowing out a breath, and then looked at the bed. 

He forgot about Alya for a moment when his eyes fell on Marinette, looking relaxed and blissfully happy, one lovely shoulder and her feet peeking out of the sheet she had tucked around herself. He could still see the marks of her earlier breakdown on her face, but she looked at peace now. 

If he hadn’t already been sure he loved her, he didn’t think anything on earth would have saved him from falling in that moment. 

Luka brought the water over and set it on her nightstand, then leaned over her to set his on the other one. Marinette smiled dreamily up at him, and he bent down and kissed her gently. She smiled against his lips.

“Your mouth is cold,” she told him, and giggled. 

“Yours is hot,” he teased, kissing her again, a little deeper. Then he sighed. “Your, um...your roommate is home,” he told her, half-regretting it as Marinette stiffened instantly. “I kind of ran into her in the kitchen.”

Marinette bit her lip, looking up at him as a blush lit her face. “Oops,” she murmured, and then giggled in a way that said maybe she wasn’t all that sorry. Laughing, Luka all but tackled her, pressing her back into the pillows as he kissed her messily, moving his lips to her neck and collarbone when she tried to squirm away from him. 

“What was that for?” Marinette giggled, pushing lightly at his chest until he propped himself up on his arms. 

“You are criminally hot,” he told her, smirking when the red tinting her cheeks darkened. “Especially when you blush.” Always when she blushed, but especially now, looking so ravished and yet so sweetly pretty, shy and shameless at the same time. 

He leaned down and kissed her again, more gently, and she hummed against him, kissing him twice more when he would have pulled away. 

When she finally let him sit back, he asked, “Do you want me to leave?” 

“No,” she said with determination, slipping her hand around the back of his neck and pulling him back down into another kiss. “Come get back in bed with me.” 

Not at all unwilling, Luka shimmied out of his pants and crawled over her, slipping under the sheet and tucking it around his front before laying an arm down in invitation. Marinette shifted over to him, and Luka shivered when she moved the sheet away from between them. Instead of settling her head down on his shoulder, she kissed his chest, and his neck, and pressed herself up against him. “I don’t think you’re as done as you led me to believe,” she whispered with a teasing smile. 

“Well not anymore.” Luka grinned up at her, shifting onto his back in answer to the press of his hands on her shoulders. “Feel like scandalizing your roommate?”

“Believe me, it’s her turn,” Marinette huffed, climbing on top of him, and looking up at her pretty face with smiling lips bruised from his kisses, haloed by mussed black hair he couldn’t wait to tangle his hands in again, Luka promptly forgot anyone else even existed. 

Later, he was nearly asleep, curled around Marinette with the sheet tucked between them, when she whispered, “Luka?”

“Hmm?” he blinked his eyes open, though he couldn’t see much. He felt her tense, though, and moved a hand to her arm, rubbing his thumb along her skin. 

“I think I’m falling for you,” she finally said, the sentence half a sigh as the air rushed out of her. 

Luka froze for an instant, completely awake now, and he felt Marinette flinch and tense. Quickly he pressed his lips to the back of her neck, and slid his arm around her waist. “Let me know when you’re sure,” he murmured against her skin. “I’m waiting at the bottom to catch you.” 

He felt her sigh and relax, and then she rolled, scooting up close against him and pillowing her head on his shoulder. Luka held her, rubbing her back softly, and turned his head to bury his face in the pillow to keep himself from screaming. 

On his way out in the morning, Luka gave Alya a broad grin and a two-fingered salute.

***

“Girls, we have a problem,” Alya announced, plopping into a chair and slamming her to-go cup down on the table.

“Good morning to you too, Alya,” Alix muttered, face propped on her fist. “What the hell is it that you needed to talk to us about this early?”

“I met Marinette’s boytoy last night.”

Blank stares from around the table. Alya sighed. “The one night stand? The guy she’s been fucking every night she had free for the last month and more?” 

Alix raised her eyebrows. “Still not seeing the point. So Marinette’s getting laid. A lot. Good for her. Wasn’t it your idea for her to get back out there in the first place?” 

Alya slapped the table. “That’s just it! She’s not out there! She’s hung up on this dude and my point is that this isn’t like Marinette. You know she can’t just do random hookups. This has been going on for a month straight and you know she’s going to catch feelings, if she hasn’t already. And that guy, he—he’s not Marinette’s type . He’s got tattoos and piercings and dyed hair and his clothes are practically rags!” 

“Sounds hot,” Alix observed, and Alya rolled her eyes. 

“It’s not Marinette , and he’s definitely not the type who’s looking to settle down with one girl. He’s going to fuck her until she starts wanting more and then he’s going to break her heart. If we’re lucky. If we’re not, he’ll string her along with a bunch of promises, probably cheating on her the whole time, and then really break her heart. This isn’t the kind of relationship Marinette wants!” She waved her hands around for emphasis. “Marinette wants a house and a picket fence and a—a hamster. She needs husband material .” 

“It does seem like Marinette wouldn’t be satisfied with a purely physical relationship,” Mylène said hesitantly. “But are you sure this man is no good? What if he does like Marinette?” 

“They could totally fall in love! Opposites attract, you know!” Rose added, hooking her arm through Juleka’s with a giggle. “Maybe all Marinette needs is somebody a little bit different to take her mind off...you know. Him .” 

“Rose, there’s different and then there’s different, ” Alya sighed. “Some different is okay, but picking up punk guys in nightclubs is a little extreme, don’t you think?”

“Mkay,” Alix sighed. “Even supposing we agreed with you, and I’m not saying we do, what would we even do about it?” 

“What we need is a distraction,” Alya said, tapping a finger on the table as her brow furrowed in thought. “Someone who can get her mind off of her fuckbuddy and back to thinking about kids and hamsters.” 

For a moment the girls sat in silence. 

“Well,” Juleka said slowly, as heads turned toward her. “There’s my brother, I suppose. He just got back into town a couple months ago.”

“Oh, that’s true!” Rose exclaimed, laying a finger alongside her cheek as she thought. “Ooh, that could work, Juleka. I mean, if Marinette and this guy are in love, then she’ll just be making a new friend, right? And if Alya’s right, then there’s no harm in just introducing Marinette to someone else.”

Juleka shrugged. “Hard to say with him though, whether he’ll be into Marinette. He’ll either get bored or fall hard. He likes creative types—“

“That’s definitely Marinette,” Alix said dully.

“People who are honest—transparent, even.”

Alix snorted. “Also Marinette.”

Juleka was looking even more thoughtful. “People who don’t back down, who think outside the box...yeah, we could try it.” She shrugged. “Don’t know what Marinette’ll think of him, though.”

“He is very handsome,” Rose pointed out. “Not much like— you know , but that might work in our favor after everything. He looks a little bit like Keanu Reeves, and you know Marinette loves him.” 

Juleka snorted. “He wishes he looked like Keanu Reeves.”

“They have the same vibe,” Rose defended. 

Juleka just shook her head. “Well, if Marinette’s into ink and piercings and the whole bad boy look right now, it shouldn’t be a problem, anyway. Dumbass looks like the rough type but he’s a total teddy bear. Best of both worlds, I guess.” 

“Okay, I’ve heard enough,” Alya declared, clapping her hands. “Plan A. Juleka and Rose are throwing a housewarming party.”

“We are?” chorused Rose and Juleka.

“We’ll invite Marinette, Juleka’s brother will be there, we get them together, and they hit it off, and she kicks her loser booty call to the curb. Problem solved.” Alya nodded firmly. 

Alix dropped her head onto her arms. “What’s plan B?” she mumbled. “Seems like this whole plan could fall apart if they end up not liking each other.”

Alya waved a hand dismissively. “We’ll figure that out after we see how this one goes. I’ll have thought of something before the party.”  

***

“This is a pleasant surprise,” Marinette said, tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear as she folded her laundry. “I didn’t expect to hear from you today. I thought you had plans tonight.” 

“I do,” Luka replied. “I just have a few minutes and I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” Marinette frowned. “What?”

“Well, I had a very interesting conversation with my sister today,” Luka told her, and she could hear amusement in his voice. “She invited me to a party later this week. Said there’s a friend of hers she’d like me to meet. Thought we might hit it off .”

“O-oh,” Marinette managed, dropping the shirt she held. “Really?” Insecurity flooded up and threatened to drown her. Aside from that one late night conversation, they hadn’t really revisited their relationship status. She hadn’t had the courage to bring it up again. If Luka wanted to meet someone else, he was still technically free to do so, but...but she’d thought...

“Yeah, maybe you know her,” Luka laughed. “She’s in your field, after all. Some hot-shot, up and coming designer named Marinette Dupain-Cheng .” 

“Oh. Oh. ” Marinette’s eyes widened, and then she frowned. “Wait, do I know your sister?”

“Well, that’s what I called to find out.” Luka snorted softly. “Know a Juleka Couffaine by any chance?” 

“Juleka?” Marinette shrieked. “You’re related to—how did I not know that? Why didn’t she ever say anything? Why didn’t you?” She racked her brains, thinking back. 

“Mm, generally we’ve been busy not saying other things. Gotta say Jules hasn’t exactly been on my mind when we’re together.” His low chuckle made Marinette blush. 

“Right.” Marinette blushed. “And I suppose I never mentioned your name to her, and Alya just calls you—” She stopped, embarrassed.

“What?” Luka asked, humor in his voice.

“My, um...boytoy.” Luka laughed uproariously, and Marinette began to giggle again. “Or sometimes things that aren’t quite so nice. She thinks you’re not good for me. Because...because of how we met, and all. Um.” She took a breath, hesitating, but then remembered that awful feeling just moments ago when it seemed like the floor had dropped out from under her, and decided it was time to put everything on the table. “She thinks you’re just in it for the sex, and I’m going to get invested and end up getting hurt.” 

“Oh, I see.” Luka drawled. “As if I haven’t been head over heels for you since the moment I saw you.” Marinette blushed, and bit her lip, but Luka went on before she could say anything. “I get it. Sounds to me like your roommate’s trying to set you up with someone who’ll take care of you. Get you away from that sex-crazed loser that’s seduced her poor little innocent bestie.” 

Marinette buried her face, phone and all, into the throw pillow next to her and giggled until her sides hurt and she was gasping.

“Are you done?” Luka asked, still sounding amused, when the giggling finally subsided. “Or do I need to send someone over there to administer oxygen?” 

“I’m fine,” Marinette snickered. “Listen, Luka, my friends are having a party next week and I’ve got this weird feeling they’re trying to set me up. Will you come be my date to Juleka’s party? Maybe—“ She steeled herself and took the plunge. “Maybe if I introduce them to my boyfriend , they’ll back off.

There was a moment of silence. Marinette forgot to breathe.

“I’m going to need you to say that again when we’re in the same room,” Luka said, voice deliciously deep and husky, “So I can kiss you properly. Can you come over?”

Air rushed out of her. “Aren’t you busy tonight?” she asked, and smiled at the sound of his laugh. 

“Not anymore.” 

“Are you sure?” she teased. “I thought you had plans.” 

“Consider them cancelled,” Luka told her, “Get your gorgeous ass over here.” 

She did, and after she had said it again, after the kissing and the other soft words, after the more-than-kissing, they cuddled close, happy, sated, and basking in their newly upgraded relationship. Marinette felt Luka stir and prop himself on his elbow.

“You know,” he said, his breath washing across her cheek. “I’m thinking about this party the girls are planning.”

“Do you still want to go?” Marinette asked, reaching up 

“Absolutely,” he said, and then his voice dropped, making her shiver slightly as he nuzzled her ear. “But why don’t we make things a little interesting.”  He whispered his plan in Marinette’s ear, and she began to giggle. 

***

Juleka sighed as she looked at their new apartment, cleaned and decorated without a scrap of cardboard left in the place, and gazed with exasperated fondness on all the little finger sandwiches and appetizers Rose had spent all day making. Luka had better appreciate this, she thought, as she pasted on a smile and started letting in the guests that began to arrive in ones and twos. Well, at least Rose was happy. Any excuse to bust out the glitter and craft paper and try out all these super cute recipes she found on Pinterest.

Juleka was genuinely happy to see Luka, though, when he finally knocked on the door. Her schedule had been packed lately, which was great from a career standpoint, but she hadn’t seen as much of him as she wanted to since he’d come back from his travels. She felt a little guilty that it had taken Alya’s plotting to get her to make room on her schedule to see him. 

Well, hopefully she was about to make up for it.

“Hey, Jules,” he said, kissing her cheek and then Rose’s. “Congratulations on the new place.” 

“Thanks,” Juleka half-smiled, all the admission she was willing to make that she was glad to see him. She was pleased to note that he’d listened to her admonishments and dressed up. He looked nice, in a black dress shirt open at the collar and jeans that were mostly intact. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the tattoos on his arms, and the dye in his hair was bright and fresh. Good. Maybe he had half a shot with Marinette, if he didn’t open up his big mouth and screw it up. 

“We’re so glad you could make it, Luka!” Rose squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. Then she drew back with a dismayed expression. “Oh, but she’s not here yet.”

Luka shrugged. “That’s okay, I’m in no hurry. I meant to tell you, I’ve...actually been seeing someone, to be honest.” He had the grace to look sheepish, and winced at the way Juleka’s eyes widened.

“What?” she asked sharply, and then smacked his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Luka shrugged, and Juleka’s heart sank at the stupid grin that spread over his face. “We weren’t really official until just a few days ago. After we talked about this. I don’t think I’ve put my guitar down since then except to pee, so…I kinda forgot.” 

“Gross,” Juleka muttered out of habit. 

“Oh,” cooed Rose, clasping her hands together, before grabbing Juleka’s arm and shaking her lightly. “Ohhh, he looks so happy!”

“I am happy,” Luka grinned. “Really, really happy. She’s amazing, I’ve never met anyone like her. It’s maybe too soon to say it, but...this could be it, you know?”

Juleka felt a little sick. She hadn’t realized she was so invested in setting up Luka and Marinette, but the crushing disappointment she now felt said she was. She liked Marinette a lot, and she loved Luka more than almost anyone else in the world, and the more she considered the idea of them together, the more she thought it could work. Even though she had told herself (and Rose) not to get her hopes up, she absolutely had. 

But Luka was practically glowing, so Juleka swallowed the sick feeling and told him she was happy for him. And she was, really. She had to be happy about anything that made him smile like that. As much as she would have liked to have Marinette for a sister, she wanted Luka’s happiness over all. 

She wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Alya, though. Focus. Luka was looking at her with a little hopeful half-smile on his face and Rose would kill her if she crushed his enthusiasm.

“Well, when you’re sure we won’t scare her off, bring her to dinner.” Juleka punched his arm lightly. “I have to meet the lunatic who would date you.” 

“Sure, sounds good. So, is there a tour?” Luka asked with a grin, and Rose bounced on her toes before grabbing onto his arm and tugging him further into the apartment. She gave Juleka one commiserating glance behind his back before she began introducing him to the small gathering of friends in their modest living room. 

Juleka sighed and stationed herself back by the door to head off Alya when she came in and warn her. 

The next person to show up, though, was Marinette, which was a bit surprising. She was supposed to be coming with Alya, and she wasn’t nearly as late as she usually was. Juleka felt like pouting as she looked over Marinette. She was dressed up too, in a chocolate brown dress that hugged her figure nicely to the waist, covered with a sheer lace overlay that ran up over her neck and shoulders. The skirt hung to her knees in sheer layers edged in scallops of pink lace that were piled thick enough to cover everything important, but thin enough to tease. Her hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders, and she was smiling so cheerfully, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. She’d have been the perfect bait if the trap hadn’t already been sprung. Dammit, Luka , Juleka thought grumpily. You’re missing out, dumbass . 

“I brought cookies!” Marinette said breathlessly, holding up a cellophane-wrapped platter. “You can keep the plate, I got it for you.” 

Juleka mumbled her thanks, smiling at the combination of cookies shaped like roses and black bats on a platter that matched their new dishes. “Thanks, Marinette. That’s really thoughtful.”

“Of course,” Marinette grinned, bobbing on her toes a little. “I’m so excited for you guys!”

She looked so genuinely excited that Juleka had to smile. “Most everybody is here already,” Juleka told her, waving her on into the apartment. “Rose is in the back showing some people around, but she’ll be back up in a minute. Wine?” 

“Please,” Marinette said gratefully, and Juleka poured her a glass. “You did a great job of blending your styles, it looks so pretty in here, but, you know. Juleka pretty and not just Rose pretty. I really like what you did with the curtains—” 

Juleka let her ramble on, glancing at the clock now and again. Alya and Alix were due any minute and she had to head Alya off before she did anything...pushy. Luka didn’t like pushy. Marinette drifted into the living room to chat with some other friends—and damn, the front of that dress might be all sweetness and light but the back was really sexy. “Damn it, Luka,” Juleka muttered with a frustrated sigh. “This girl better be fucking incredible.”  

Luka was just following Rose back from the spare bedroom the girls were turning into a combination craft/music room, when he caught sight of Marinette chatting with a few other people in the living room.

Rose saw her almost at the same time, and gave a little squeal. “Marinette, you made it!” 

Marinette came to hug her, and Luka waited while they exchanged pleasantries, trying to keep his cool so he didn’t give anything away. Finally Rose remembered he was there and turned to him, tugging Marinette forward a little. 

“Oh, Marinette, this is Juleka’s brother Luka!” Rose chirped. “Luka, this is Marinette, the friend we were telling you about.” 

For a moment, they just looked at each other. Just long enough to give Rose pause. Then...

“Hi,” Luka said, grinning down at her. 

“Hi,” Marinette murmured, smiling up at him. 

 “You look good enough to eat,” he told her, settling a hand on her hip and tugging her closer. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rose’s eyes widen and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

“Is that a promise?” Marinette winked, and the tremble in her voice said she was about to laugh too. 

He bent down and she pushed up and they met in a passionate kiss. Her arms went around his neck (she remembered just in time not to dump her wine down his back) and his hands found her back—which was mostly bare, he realized as he felt warm skin under his hands. The noise he made wasn’t very dignified but it would only add to the show; he slid his hands down her back and onto her ass. Just to really sell it, naturally. No doubt she was kneading his chest and shoulders for the same reason. 

Damn, she even tasted like chocolate, the little minx. He’d be willing to bet she did that on purpose.

Beside them, Rose practically had to stuff both fists in her mouth to keep herself from screaming. She looked around and grabbed Mylène’s arm, shaking her as Rose hopped up and down. 

“Rose, what is—oooohhh,” Mylène’s eyes went round as Rose spun her around to face the kissing couple. Rose leaned down and began to hiss excitedly into her ear. “Wait, slow down— what? ” Mylène slapped her own hands over her mouth and looked at Rose. 

“ I know!!” Rose whisper-squealed, reaching up to tug at her short hair with both hands. Both of them looked towards the door, where they could see Juleka letting in Alya and Alix.

“Marinette gave us the slip,” Alya said, rolling her eyes. “Something about needing to pick up a card or some nonsense. She’s looking good, though, which is a good thing for us, right? She’s got this cute little brown dress with pink and she looks like a chocolate strawberry macaroon.” 

“Wait till you see the back,” Alix grinned. “Just these two lace panels that meet between her shoulderblades and the rest is bare. Seriously hot. I’m totally begging her to make...” She trailed off as she looked at Juleka’s face. Juleka sighed.   

“Listen, Alya, I need to tell you—” Juleka began, but Alya interrupted her, her face scrunching up as she looked at something over Juleka’s shoulder.  

“Oh you’re kidding me, I can’t believe she brought him. What is she thinking?” Alya demanded, grabbing Juleka’s arm. “How could you let him in?” Juleka raised her eyebrows, but before she could say anything, Alix had leaned around them to see what Alya was looking at.

“What now?” Alix grumbled. 

“Marinette brought her boytoy,” Alya spat, frustrated. “I can’t believe her.” Juleka nearly laughed at the irony until connections started snapping together in her head. With a feeling of dawning horror, she paused and turned slowly to look behind her, just in time to see her brother sticking his tongue down her friend’s throat. I’ll kill him , she thought. “No wonder she didn’t give me any pushback when I suggested she dress up a little,” Alya muttered, but Juleka barely heard her. 

“Nice,” Alix said, still leaning around Juleka to see, eyebrows raising in appreciation. Then she frowned. “Hold on, isn’t that—” 

At the same time, Juleka blurted “Wait,” and Alix broke off as both she and Alya turned to look at Juleka, who had gone pale. “ That ’ s the guy Marinette went home with? The guy she’s been banging every chance she got since—”  A look of horror crossed her face. “That’s who she’s been telling us—oh, gross. ” She put a hand over her mouth, sure she was about to vomit. “Oh my God, I don’t know what I did to deserve this but I deeply regret whatever it was.” 

“Never mind all that, we have to find a way to get him out of here before your brother shows up,” Alya hissed. 

Juleka groaned and put her face in her hands. 

Alix began to laugh. “I do feel sorry for you,” she told Juleka. “I really do. I definitely wouldn’t want to know any of that about my brother.” She paused, and made a face, turning slightly green. “Oh God, did not need that mental image, and mine’s not even real.” 

“I’m gonna hurl,” Juleka mumbled. “I can’t believe I have to live with this knowledge.”

Across the room, Marinette broke their kiss long enough to ask, breathlessly, “Think they got the point?” Luka glanced up and began to laugh into her hair as she nibbled his collarbone. 

“Juleka’s face is priceless right now.” He dropped his head and licked her neck, before moving his face up to whisper in her ear. “If we don’t get out of here right now I’m going to bust a gut and ruin everything.” 

“Then by all means, let’s go,” she giggled. “Tell me the next time they look over.” 

Luka glanced up. “Now.” 

Marinette slipped her hand between his legs and squeezed, making him jump with a “whoa.” 

“Sorry. Too much?” Marinette whispered. 

“Not if we’re leaving right now,” he grinned back, and let Marinette take his hand, giving him her best bedroom eyes as she backed towards the door, tugging him along. He didn’t even have to feign the dopey look on his face as he stared back at her. As they passed the knot of her friends, all staring saucer-eyed at them, she waved at them.

“Thanks for inviting me, Juleka! Sorry I have to bow out early, but um...I have something to take care of,” Marinette giggled, handing her wine glass to Alix as she kept towing Luka towards the door. He smirked at Juleka and winked.

“I’ll text you about dinner,” he called over his shoulder, laughing, and then grabbed Marinette’s ass just before they stepped out of the door.

“Holy fuck,” Alix muttered, still gaping at the door. “Was that really Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” She began to laugh. “I am so fucking proud.” 

“This isn’t funny!” Alya hissed. “This is a disaster!” 

“Oh, it’s hilarious,” Alix gasped, barely able to breathe, and Rose and Mylène nodded, both giggling. Rose squealed, bouncing on her toes. 

“This is amazing, I can’t believe it, it’s like fate or something—”

“I’m not sure that’s how fate works.” Mylène was trying to hold in her laughter for Alya’s sake. “But they certainly seem happy together.” 

Juleka, still looking a little green, put her hand on Alya’s shoulder before Alya could retort. “Look, it’s fine. You don’t have to worry about her. Luka’s the only person on the planet who’s a bigger sap than Marinette. If he’s into her, he’s all in.” Remembering the way Luka had been glowing when he’d talked about his new girl—when he talked about Marinette —she managed a tiny smile despite her nausea. If Luka got his way maybe she’d have Marinette for a sister-in-law after all. 

It was wiped away a second later as Alix guffawed, “Oh, she loves him being all in,” and Juleka groaned. 

“I need alcohol now ,” she grumbled. “I am going to give him so much shit in the wedding speech to make up for this.”

***

Outside, Luka and Marinette got to the elevators, and then collapsed against the wall in a brief fit of giggles.

“That was brilliant,” Marinette laughed, squeezing Luka’s arm. “I’m so embarrassed but it was so worth it, did you see Alya’s face?” 

“Juleka’s gonna kill me,” Luka chortled. “I can’t wait. Come here.” He pulled her close and kissed her, softer and more carefully than he had inside, and Marinette hummed with pleasure. Not that she hadn’t been enjoying their sloppy makeout, but this was more Luka’s style, and since she loved Luka, she—Marinette paused, and pulled back to look at him, biting her lip as he blinked and smiled softly at whatever he saw in her face. Marinette took a breath.

“I love you,” she said, keeping her eyes on his, though her pulse hammered in her veins. She hadn’t thought his eyes could get any softer, but he looked at her as if she was the greatest treasure in the world as he cupped her cheek and laid a soft kiss on her lips.  

“I love you too,” he said roughly, and gathered her up in his arms, squeezing her tight, lifting her off her feet as he squeezed her hard. 

Marinette giggled into his shoulder. “Poor Alya,” she muttered. “So wrong and so right at the same time.” She pulled back and kissed him again. “Take me home, before someone catches us making out in the hallway.” 

“Too late, dudes.” 

They both looked up, and Marinette’s mouth fell open as she saw Nino stepping out of the elevator with a pained expression. “Does the phrase get a room mean anything to you guys?” 

“Oh,” Marinette ducked her head sheepishly. “Sorry, Nino. By the way, this is Luka. He’s...Juleka’s brother?” 

Nino blinked, and then groaned. “Oh, shit.” 

Marinette giggled. “We’re um...we’re leaving now. Uh...Alya might be a teensie bit—” She held up her pinched fingers. “...stressed?” 

Nino rolled his eyes, but reached back to catch the elevator door for them before it closed. “Guess I’m on damage control,” he sighed, but with a grin. “Come on, get out of here.”  Needing no further encouragement, Marinette pulled Luka into the elevator. “Bring him to dinner or something next time,” Nino called as he let the door close. “We can’t keep meeting like this.” 

In the elevator, Luka and Marinette looked at each other. “Oops,” she whispered, and they both broke down laughing. Luka hugged her close, and Marinette sighed. “You know,” she mused. “As far as mistakes go…” She smiled up at him. “You’re the best one I ever made.” 

[love-and-monsters]

Fake Dating pt. 2

M Faerie X F human reader, 6,405 words

This is a part two to this story. Elwain and his human are safely in the human world, dealing with things far more mundane than an assassination attempt. Both of them are adjusting to the new life and to each other. Very fluffy, with some caretaking. I was in a very romantic mood while writing this and I think you can tell.

Content notes: mentions of parents trying to kill their child, descriptions of minor illness.

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. Why do humans like this?”

You repressed a snicker. “You’re watching it.”

Elwain didn’t even look away from the screen to reply. “You put it on.”

“I just turned on the TV. You’re the one who started watching.” Elwain made a noncommittal noise. You pressed your lips together, trying not to smile. “I can change the channel, if you want. There’s a documentary on that I wanted to-”

“No, this is fine,” Elwain said. He hopped onto the couch next to you and curled up. “Ugh. These people know that expensive doesn’t mean good, right?”

You covered your mouth with a hand. Elwain actually, legitimately enjoying trashy reality shows was by far the best thing you’d learned about his personality since you’d started living together. The worst thing was probably that he’d grown up with servants and had no comprehension of household chores. It had taken a few weeks to get him to put his food back in the refrigerator when he was done with it, and you weren’t sure he was ever going to get the hang of doing dishes. Still. He was getting better.

“You’re still going to need to vacuum later tonight,” you reminded him. Elwain groaned.

“I spent all day at work!” he said. “I should get a day off.”

“You only had a five hour shift today. I worked seven. Plus, I have school. You don’t get breaks on household chores. Doesn’t matter how much you worked, they still have to be done.” Elwain looked away sulkily. That was an expression you were getting uncomfortably familiar with. “And you’re not allowed to do magic for it, either.”

“What? Just because you can’t use magic, there is no reason for me to be forbidden!” Elwain said.

“Yeah, sure. You remember what happened last time you used magic to clean the apartment?” Bright pink spots appeared on Elwain’s cheeks. He glared down at the couch, expression screwed up in irritation.

“I fixed that.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. You fixed the apartment. What you’re never going to fix is my trauma from walking into my apartment and finding everything covered in spiders!”

“I apologized!”

“Look, the next time you decide to enchant a bunch of bugs into doing household chores, just. Don’t.”

Elwain huffed. “They weren’t even venomous to humans! All of you are so easily frightened. They weren’t going to hurt you.”

“I think the heart attack I had upon entering my own apartment could be considered as hurting me,” you muttered. Elwain looked sour, but didn’t respond, apparently returning to his TV show. Elwain’s adjustment to the human world had been… difficult. He had no real understanding of conventional social norms and obviously still expected everyone to treat him like a noble, despite working a minimum wage job at a fast-food restaurant. Not to mention that he seemed to have very loose morals when it came to enchanting mortals. As far as you were aware, he’d never done it to you, but he didn’t seem to have any sort of restraint when it came to anyone else. Before he’d gotten his job in customer service, he’d made all of his money by charming random people off the street into handing over their wallets.

Admittedly, his skills had come in handy. You didn’t feel particularly good about it, but he had charmed the landlord into giving you the apartment for significantly less than the going rate. In your defense, there hadn’t been many options. You couldn’t stay in your parent’s house with a Fae hanging around, and even with both of you working, there was no way to afford an apartment otherwise.

It did not help that Elwain apparently found your moral crisis very funny.

“You all live by such dumb rules all the time. If you really wanted, I could probably charm someone into giving us their house, or just letting us stay there.”

“That feels morally dubious,” you said.

“Ugh. You won’t let me steal anything, you won’t let me charm people into letting us use their things without stealing them, you won’t even let me charm people into handing some things over!” Elwain flopped across the couch. “So now we’re living in a garbage apartment and I have to work at a greasy food place where customers yell all the time and-”

“It’s a nice apartment, especially considering what we’re paying for it,” you interrupted. “And if you use magic too often, people might start figuring out that something weird is going on.”

“I doubt it. Mortals are stupid.” But Elwain didn’t protest, and went to his job as usual, and didn’t steal, which was more respect for your rules than you were worried he’d show. And, really, you were glad you’d instated the ‘no magic’ rule at large, given how unpredictable the results could be.

Elwain sprawled across the couch. He had a tendency to take up ridiculous amounts of space, pushing you to the edges of the couch to avoid contact. Eventually, you got up.

“Where are you going?” Elwain asked as you walked out of the room.

“I’m going to study for a bit before bed,” you called back. “Enjoy your show.”

He stared after you until your door clicked shut. Weird. He’d seemed almost annoyed about you leaving, even though it meant he could watch his shows for longer and you would stop bugging him about vacuuming. Whatever. He’d been acting weird recently, though. Maybe you should talk to him about it. He’d seemed fine for the first month or so after leaving his home and his parents trying to kill him, but maybe he was having some sort of delayed reaction.

You buried yourself in your textbooks for the next few hours, trying to get a solid start on one of your papers. The back of your mind seemed to be focused on the little noises in the apartment, though. Every sound of footsteps or things being moved pulled your attention back to the rest of the house. Eventually, you heard the sound of the vacuum running for a while before Elwain headed into his room.

He never went back into the main area of your apartment and, buried in work, you were soon thoroughly distracted. Gradually, as you worked, your mind grew less and less focused until you were face down in your books, dead asleep.

“Wake up!”

You bolted upright. There was a piece of paper sticking to your cheek from a stream of drool. You hurriedly pulled it off. “What? What’s going on?” You blinked, focusing on Elwain’s fine face in front of you. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Your alarm was going off. I can’t believe you didn’t hear it. It woke me up.” Sure enough, your phone, which was still sitting across the room from you, on its charger, was ringing furiously. You weren’t surprised that you hadn’t noticed it, though. Your head felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton.

“Oh. Sorry.” You rose a little unsteadily and turned the alarm off. “Thanks for waking me. Probably would have slept right through it if you hadn’t.”

“Uh huh,” Elwain said. “Did someone curse you?”

You blinked at him. He seemed dead serious. “Uh, no. I doubt it. Unless you know something I don’t.”

“If you’re asking about my parents, I would assume they are no longer concerned about me,” Elwain said. His voice was clipped, like it always was when he talked about his parents. “I don’t think they would bother to curse a mortal. If they had the means to lay a curse on someone, it would be far easier and more effective to just curse me.” He paused. “I was only asking because you look terrible.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled.

“You do. Why didn’t you sleep in your actual bed last night?” he asked.

“Because I fell asleep at my desk by accident. Are you going to stand here and just insult me or-” You broke off into a round of thick, hacking coughs. Elwain took a step back, alarm crossing his face.

“What is happening to you?” He lifted his arms in front of him, like he was trying to ward off some kind of evil spirit.

“It’s a cough,” you said. “Have you never seen a cough before?”

Elwain lowered his arms, still looking at me like he thought you would start convulsing at any moment. “Fae don’t do that.”

“They don’t cough?” You rubbed at your chest. A significant amount of phlegm had settled there. God, your body really had to pick the worst time to get sick.

“Not like that,” he said. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I’m sick,” you told him.

He nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of that. A mortal thing. Your forms are weak, so you occasionally fall ill. It is a sign of your small, failing lifespans.”

You considered correcting him, but decided that you had better ways to spend your morning than trying to explain germ theory to a Faerie. “Yeah. Sure. Well. I’m sick. So that’s why I’m coughing. It’s just a cold. I’ll be fine.”

Elwain narrowed his eyes. “Hmph. Well. I have work. Don’t die while I’m out.”

“I’m not in any danger of dying,” you told him. “Go head to work. Have fun.”

“That’s unlikely,” he muttered, but he left your room without protest. You closed your door after him and set about getting ready for your day.

The cold had settled into your head and chest and you could tell it was going to be bad already, even before it had come on fully. God. You could not afford to get sick.

Elwain was eating breakfast when you shuffled into the kitchen. You’d needed to absolutely cake your face in makeup to look presentable, and you saw his brows rise as he looked at you. Fortunately, the Fae at least knew how to keep their mouths shut. He just looked back at the frozen waffles he was toasting.

You snagged a granola bar and headed for the door. “Have a good day at work!” you called over your shoulder. Elwain grunted in response. The door swung shut behind you.

Work was exhausting, as per usual. It was better than Elwain’s job by a long shot, since you were working in a local candy store run by a sweet older couple, but between keeping an eye on any batches of candy being produced, sorting out customers, and having to deal with the requisite child-throwing-a-fit-for-not-getting-sweets, it was tiring. Trying to look bright and perky while being weighted down with a cold was awful.

As soon as work was off, you had class. Dragging yourself through it was a slow, painful slog. By the end, your head was fuzzy and you felt dead on your feet. Slowly, you hauled yourself on the bus and fell asleep.

Naturally, you missed your stop.

About an hour after you were supposed to be home, you dragged yourself in through the door. Elwain practically slammed into you. His hands clapped on either side of his face and he peered intently at you. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you! I thought you were dead!”

You pushed him off you and bent to one side to cough heavily until you were nearly sagging to the floor. Elwain stared at you. “Sorry,” you rasped when you’d stopped. “I fell asleep. And then my phone was on low battery and I wanted to make sure I had enough battery to use my GPS to get home.”

“You couldn’t have texted me?” Elwain drew himself up, hands on his hips. The entire situation reminded you, ridiculously, of your mom when you came home after a night out. “I was worried! I didn’t know where you were, and mortals are so ridiculously fragile-”

“Aw, you’d have been fine,” you said. “If anything, you’d be able to do more without my stupid mortal morals.”

Elwain’s expression went strange for a moment. “Are you feeling well? You seem… off.”

“I’m not feeling well. I’d like to lie down, actually.” You coughed again. “That okay with you?” Elwain was still frowning, but he stepped aside, allowing you down the hall and into your room.

You went down into your bed face-first. Almost as soon as you hit the pillows, your mind faded into sleep. Sleep came to you in fitful waves. You kept waking, coughing, rolling over and falling asleep again. When your alarm pulled you back to full consciousness, you felt thoroughly awful. The cold had settled firmly into your chest and head, gumming everything up. Your chest rasped every time you breathed in, prompting heavy coughing fits, you shivered even when you were wrapped in blankets, and your head felt full, achy, and cloudy.

The cold had apparently decided to upgrade to a full-blown illness. Slowly, you shoved yourself upright. It was hard to breathe through your nose and your mouth. Your throat stung with every inhale. Every cell of your body just wanted to pop some of the cold medicine that made you sleep and hopefully you’d wake up when it was all over.

Just as you were standing up, someone knocked on your door.

Well, you knew who. There was only one person who it could be. Grimacing, you walked over to the door and pulled it open. “Elwain. What?”

He stared at you. “I was- are you okay?”

“I’m sick. You remember the discussion was had yesterday?” you said. “Anyway. You needed something?”

Elwain looked you over. You hadn’t looking into a mirror, but given his expression, you probably looked terrible. He seemed to think you were five seconds from crumbling into a pile of ash, like a vampire exposed to sunlight. “Do I need to call 911?” he asked.

“Uh, no. It’s a cold. I don’t need an ambulance. I need to sleep for a while. Why are you knocking on my door?” you asked. Elwain’s mouth moved wordlessly. Whatever he had wanted to talk to you about, it seemed to have been completely derailed.

“I… er.” Elwain’s gaze flicked over you again. “Well. I wanted to see how you were doing. You went to bed right after you got home last night and I never saw you again. And you seem to be doing… poorly.”

“Yeah. I’m not doing great. I really just want to go back to bed.” You rubbed your hand over your head. “I feel like shit.”

Elwain hesitated. “Do you need me to do something?”

“Just go about your day. I’ll try to keep my gross self out of your way.” You slouched across your room to your bed. “If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to try to get a little more sleep.”

Elwain lingered in the doorway for a few moments longer. Finally, he turned and headed into the kitchen. The door remained open behind him, and you couldn’t be bothered to get up and close it again. Instead, you buried your head in your pillow. Sleep claimed you again within moments.

Less than an hour later, your alarm went off again. You slapped at it balefully until it shut off. Somehow, it felt like you gotten negative sleep, like sleeping had made you even more tired. Slowly, painfully, you pushed yourself upright. Shivers wracked your frame. How had sleep made everything worse?

You threw on the first clothes that you could get your hands on and shuffled into the kitchen. Elwain looked up from his breakfast. His mouth opened slightly. “Good lord. Maybe you have been cursed.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “I don’t look that bad.” You did, but you’d slathered enough makeup on your face to cover most of it. Then again, maybe that wasn’t enough to hide from Fae eyes.

“You look like a walking corpse,” Elwain said. You collapsed in the seat next to him and coughed into your fist. The force of the motion made your head throb. Elwain curled his lips back from his teeth in a grimace. “Are you certain you don’t need me to call 911?”

“No. It’s a cold. I’m-” You dissolved into a fit of coughing so severe it was difficult to catch your breath. Elwain stared at you, eyes wide. “I’m fine,” you croaked.

Elwain narrowed his eyes, but returned to his phone. You didn’t know where he’d gotten it from, because he certainly hadn’t purchased it, but you’d decided you weren’t going to ask. You ate slowly, mostly because your stomach felt tender, and you couldn’t finish even half of your normal portion. After a while of picking at your food, you dumped your dishes in the sink and started gathering your items to head out.

“Where are you going?” You startled. Elwain had appeared at your shoulder, completely silent. You might have chalked up not noticing him to your cold-dulled senses, but he could sneak up on you no matter how well you were feeling.

“Work,” you said.

Elwain looked back down at his phone. “You are not supposed to leave the house if you’re sick.”

“It’s a cold. I’ll be fine,” you said.

Elwain kept looking at his phone. “If you are sick, you are supposed to stay home, both so you can avoid infecting others and so you can recover.”

“Are you reading that off a website? Where are you reading that from?” You tried to grab his phone, but he gracefully slipped out of your reach.

“I searched about human illnesses on the internet,” he said. “Your symptoms are consistent with the common cold, but they are also consistent with pneumonia. It says you should sleep and drink water until you are recovered.”

“Look,” you said. “I’m fine. It’s a cold. I’ve had them before. I will have them after this one. I know how to handle them. I’ll pop some cold medicine and I’ll be fine.” Elwain stared at you. His expression was hard to read. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll live.” You sniffed and blotted at your face with a tissue. “I’m going to leave now. I’ll see you later.”

You swept out the door, giving Elwain a wave. He stared after you, not moving until you slammed the door shut.

It was a long, slow, awful day. You could barely keep your head together. By the time you got home, your limbs were heavy with exhaustion and your mind was swimming.

You dragged yourself through the door. Your body felt like you were wrapped in a massive, thick blanket. Everything was warm and it was hard to move, like everything was stiff.

Elwain stared at you as you pulled yourself into the kitchen. “You look like death warmed over.”

“Fine,” you mumbled. “’m fine.” You slouched over the counter and leaned against it. Elwain stood, stepping closer to you. “I’m good. I… I’m good. Just… Tired. Tired. Need to nap.”

“Perhaps you should nap in your room,” Elwain said. “Not on the counter.”

“I’m fine here.” Your words were getting mushy. Why weren’t your lips moving correctly? “I’m good. I just, um. Need. Something…”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Here, hold onto me. I’ll-” Elwian’s hands were on your waist, on your back. You felt boneless, mushy. Your limbs weren’t moving the way you wanted them to. The only thing you could feel were Elwain’s hands supporting you. Was he carrying you? Maybe. You felt like you were floating. Your head was disconnected from your body, floating. Someone was speaking to you from far away, a soothing voice. It was so soothing. Maybe you could just sleep for a bit. Just sleep. It would be nice to just sleep.

Dimly, you came back to yourself. You blinked your eyes open. The ceiling was unfamiliar, at least as ceilings went. Not that you were familiar with many ceilings, really. Looking down at yourself revealed why the ceiling was so unfamiliar. The bed was covered in heavy, dark blue sheets. Elwain’s sheets. You were in his bed.

Slowly, you pushed yourself upright. You still felt bad, but less bad than you had been feeling. A raking cough escaped your chest, thick with phlegm.

“You’re up!” Elwain appeared in the doorway. He looked… frazzled? You weren’t sure the Fae could look as frazzled and unkempt as a human could, but he didn’t look as ethereally beautiful as he usually did. He looked sort of ruffled. “I was considering dragging you to the hospital, but the internet said that maybe ginger tea would actually be better, so I got you some of that.” He indicated the cup in his hands.

“You have got to stop getting all your information from the internet. Or at least I need to give you a media literacy course on identifying good sources,” you croaked. Your voice sounded bad, but it no longer hurt to speak. It just felt uncomfortable.

Elwain gave you a bewildered look and held the cup out toward you. “Drink it.” You took it obligingly and took a sip. Elwain must have dumped half a bottle of honey in it, because it was so sweet you almost couldn’t taste the ginger. You swallowed it carefully.

“Thank you,” you said when you’d finished the cup. “What, uh. What exactly happened to me?”

Elwain sat on the end of your bed. He was wearing his old cloak, the one he’d taken with him when he’d fled from Faerie. He tucked it tighter around him, fingers fidgeting at the hem. “I was hoping you could inform me of that, actually. I was quite frightened when you collapsed like that.”

“Oh, yeah,” you said. Vaguely, you remembered passing out. “How long was I out?”

Elwain glanced at the clock. “Mn. Less than an hour? You were in and out for the first ten minutes, mumbling a lot.” You had vague memories of Elwain leaning over you, expression panicked. Must have been from then. “Once I got you into bed, you fell asleep. I wasn’t sure if I should wake you or not.”

“It is,” you said. “Probably a good idea to let me sleep. Though if I ever do collapse again, please call 911.” You considered. “Well, I guess don’t call 911 unless I’m actually dying. I can’t afford the ambulance.”

Elwain nodded, even though he looked politely confused. “Is your illness getting worse?”

“Maybe,” you said. “It’s hard to tell. I think I have a fever now, so that sucks.”

With absolutely no warning, Elwain leaned forward. His face was abruptly so close to yours, close enough to feel his cool breath tickling your skin. The hairs on the back of your neck lifted. Suddenly the only thoughts in your head had to do with his lips pressing to yours, his cool mouth meandering along your skin-

His forehead touched yours. His eyes closed, a little furrow appearing in his brow. “You’re warm,” he said. “Very warm.” He sat back.

You blinked. “Uh. You can do that with your hand, you know.”

“Oh? I saw the forehead one on the internet,” Elwain said, but he reached up and cradled your face in his hands. With a soft, delicate touch, the back of his hand brushed against your forehead and down your cheek. The touch made something in your chest tighten and your breath catch. “You still feel warm.”

You moved your mouth, trying to get your brain back in gear. “Uh, yeah. Fever! That’s, uh. Bad. I need, um. You remember that pill bottle in the bathroom I showed you? The one with the little red pills?” Elwain nodded. “Get those and a glass of water. They’ll bring the fever down.”

Elwain vanished for a moment and returned with a tall glass water and the bottle of pills. He watched as you downed them and sank back into bed. His sheets were softer than yours, his bed even more luxuriously plush. You weren’t sure where he’d gotten the sheets from, or if maybe they were the sheets you’d bought him, just augmented with magic. “Why did you put me in your bed, anyway?” you asked. “My bed’s not that much further away.”

“I wanted to keep an eye on you,” Elwain said. “And you do not like me coming in your room.”

“I don’t like you just walking into my room whenever you feel like it, but you can come into my room,” you said. But you were pretty glad he’d put you in his bed. Everything in his room smelled faintly floral and herbal, a smell that relaxed you. Everything was cozy.

“I am not familiar with how to deal with sick mortals,” Elwain said. “Do you need anything else?”

“No. I just need to rest.” You paused, looking toward the window. “I should probably head back to my own room, actually. You’ll probably want to sleep here tonight, right?”

Elwain shook his head. “Stay. You need to rest. I will sleep elsewhere.” He swept out of the room, cloak fluttering behind him. You stared after him for a moment before sinking back into bed. Despite just waking up, your head was already muddy again. Maybe Elwain had gotten you the pills with the sleeping medicine in them. Your eyes closed. Within moments, you were drifting away, fast asleep.

You dreamed of strange things, of hands on your face, cupping your cheek, of soft lips pressed to your neck, of kind eyes and strong arms carrying you around. When you opened your eyes to see the same kind eyes staring down at you, you were half-convinced you were still dreaming.

“Hello,” Elwain said. “You have been asleep for a while.”

You blinked. Your body did have that foggy heaviness that came when you’d been sleeping deeply. Even your discomfort from the illness seemed far away and dim. “Elwain.”

“Yes. I’m right here.” He said it more gently than a simple statement of fact, almost like a reassurance.

“How long was I out?” There was bright sunlight streaming in through the window and across the bed. You lifted a hand to clumsily shield your eyes.

“Over twelve hours. I thought you should probably sleep. That’s what the internet said.”

“Oh, man, we are going to need to get you some better resources than just ‘the internet,’” you said. “But you were right. Thanks for letting me sleep.” Slowly, you shoved yourself up into a sitting position. “What’s that?”

Elwain held a bowl out to you. “I was told that soup was good for mortal illnesses.”

You took the bowl of vegetable broth. Elwain’s cooking was usually pretty hit or miss- he could follow recipes just fine, but he also had a habit of deciding that he had a better idea than the recipe and going completely off the rails. The soup just seemed to be broth, though. You took a cautious sip. It was watery, but tolerable.

“Are you feeling better?” Elwain asked. You nodded, glancing over at the clock.

“It’s past nine,” you noticed. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I called in sick. I wanted to stay home to make sure you were all right.” Elwain looked completely serious.

“It’s just a cold. I’m fine.”

Elwain’s eyes narrowed. “You collapsed.”

“Well, yeah, but…” You trailed off. There wasn’t much you could say in response to that. “Fine. But if you get fired for this, I’m going to be pissed.”

“I will not be fired. My boss loves me.” Elwain gave a superior little sniff, nose stuck up in the air. You laughed into your bowl of broth.

When you were finished, Elwain took your bowl back into the kitchen, returning only a few moments later. “Do you need anything else?”

“I think I’m okay,” you said. “You really didn’t have to stay home to take care of me. There’s not going to be a lot to do. I think I’m mostly going to sleep.”

“Regardless. I think it is better to be safe.” Elwain looked at you from the doorway for a moment longer. “I need you.”

He left the doorway. You could hear his footsteps retreating into your apartment, perfectly steady, like what he said hadn’t made your chest tighten intensely. You sank back into his bed. His scent wreathed around you, gentle and reassuring. Oh, god. Warm feelings were fluttering up in your stomach, swelling through chest and trembling in your lungs. Worse than that, they felt familiar. How long had these feelings been lingering in the background of your mind? And now they had surfaced and you didn’t know what to do with them. Naturally, you would have some kind of emotional crisis when you were sick.

You faded in and out of dreams where Elwain’s scent wreathed around you and his gentle hands stroked your forehead and cheeks. You woke up feeling oddly melancholy.

The sounds of the TV drifted through the open door. Shaking some feeling back into your heavy limbs, you hauled a blanket over your shoulders and headed into the living room.

Elwain was draped over the couch, staring at the TV. There was some soap opera on with a woman and a man hysterically throwing themselves at each other. Elwain looked up as you padded into the room. “Is it okay for you to be out of bed?” he asked.

“Yeah. I feel better, actually.” The sleep had helped quite a bit. You still felt foggy, but the pain in your head and chest had faded. Elwain sat up, drawing his limbs in closer to himself so you could sit next to him.

“You look less… corpse-like,” he said. Before you realized what he was doing, he took hold of your face in both hands and pulled you closer to him. “You are still warm.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m getting better.” You reached up and carefully pried his fingers off your face. You were overly aware of how your fingers lingered together. “How’s your day off going?”

“Human TV is still strange,” Elwain said, turning back toward the screen. “I can’t imagine any humans really behave like this. I have never seen it.”

“No, it’s a soap opera. It’s supposed to be deliberately over-the-top and crazy. That’s why they’re fun to watch.” Elwain rolled his eyes, but there was amusement in his expression.

“Is there anything you want to watch?” he asked.

“No, this is fine.” You settled into the soft cushions, staring at the TV. As much as you were looking in the direction of the TV, most of your attention was focused on Elwain. His gaze kept flicking toward you, as if he was unable to focus on the show either. After a moment, he reached out toward you.

One of his hands settled on your head, the other on your shoulder. Before you realized what had happened, he pushed you so your head was resting in his lap. You stared up at him as he, apparently unconcerned, started weaving his fingers through your hair.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“You did this for me when I first came here,” Elwain said. “It was soothing. I thought you might like it as well.” He paused. “Was I incorrect?”

You considered for a moment. His fingers were still carding through your hair, twining strands around his fingers. “No. I don’t mind.”

Elwain continued to stroke your hair. His nails scratched lightly at your scalp. The feeling of being touched made something tremulous swell in your chest. It was a pleasant feeling, but one so sharp and overwhelming that it almost made you cry.

You lay with Elwain for a while, his hands absently playing with your hair and trailing along your head and neck. He seemed to be paying far more attention to you than to the TV. “You should take better care of yourself,” he said, stroking your bangs back from your forehead. “If you were to die, I would be alone in the mortal world.”

“You’d manage,” you said.

“Perhaps.” Elwain removed his hands from your hair and hesitated for a moment. He seemed to be struggling to speak. Then he sighed. “But I would prefer it if you were with me.”

You looked up at him. He was staring deliberately to one side. There was a faint pinkish color to his cheeks and his eyes were narrowed. “You could have left, once our deal was up. I only asked you to stay with me for the night. And yet, you helped me. There was no reason to. I no longer have my connections or any particular Faerie skills. Even the few powers that remain with me, you don’t like me using. You have gained nothing from this deal and you help me regardless.”

“Of course, I did.” Thinking about that night only brought one image to your mind. Elwain, who had nearly been killed by his own parents, looking lost and confused and abandoned. He had been cocky before, but in that moment, he had just looked forlorn and upset. He had just looked scared. “I wasn’t going to just leave you on your own.”

“You could have,” Elwain pressed on. “Easily, you could have. You could have justified it, even by mortal morals. There’s not a lot here that could kill me. As you have pointed out, I would be fairly fine on my own. But you stayed with me regardless, for no other reason than just helping me.”

“You’d just almost been assassinated. I couldn’t leave you,” you said.

“You could have. But you didn’t. And, at least so far, you have asked for nothing from me in return. To be quite honest, you’ve been almost annoying with how little you allow me to do.”

“I try,” you said. Elwain snorted. It was an inelegant noise, but somehow also incredibly attractive. “Where are you going with this?”

“I’m trying to explain to you that I care about you. I want you to be well and safe and healthy because you saved me and you didn’t have to and I appreciate it.” Elwain’s cheeks flamed red. “That’s what I’m trying to say.”

You reached up slowly and let your hand cradle the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing. “It’s strange. I’m not used to this,” he said. “My parents loved me as far as they could use me. It’s how Faeries are. But you have used me for nothing, gained precious little advantage from having a Faerie living with you. And I wasn’t used to it. I still think I’m not used to it. But I am so… so… happy. For this. For you.” He blinked his eyes open. They were hazy with emotion. “Thank you.”

It was an impulse maybe you could have resisted if you were feeling better, but you were overwhelmed with feeling and not in the mood to fight with yourself. The hand on his cheek shifted position toward the back of his neck and pulled him down on top of you. His mouth pressed into yours, tense and unyielding, then softening as he realized what was happening.

There was a moment of fumbling, while Elwain registered that you were kissing. You broke away from his mouth, but he was pressing into you again, pulling you close to him and meeting your lips over and over with his own. His tongue brushed your lower lip and his moan sounded against your mouth.

You weren’t aware of how it happened, but suddenly you were lying back on the couch with Elwain on top of you. He was kissing you furiously, his hips flush to yours. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pushing him as close to you as you could get.

One of your gasping breaths caught in your chest, triggering a coughing fit. You rolled over, trying not to cough right into Elwain’s face. He sat back. His lips were already slightly kiss-swollen and he looked a bit rumpled. “Right,” he said, trying to finger-comb his hair back into a presentable state. “You’re still not feeling well.”

“Hold on. Give me a minute, we can keep going,” you said between coughs. Elwain pressed his lips together, but they were twitching toward a smile.

“You are admirably determined, but I think it would be better for you to rest,” he said. There was a pause. Elwain tugged on a few of the longer strands of his hair. “I take that to mean you feel the same way?”

“That I like you? Yeah.” You pulled him down so he was laying across your chest. He looked at you, eyes surprisingly wide and innocent. “When I first met you, I thought you were kind of an asshole. And you are kind of an asshole. But you’re also charming and endearing and you try to follow my rules even when you totally don’t have to. And you’re willing to take care of me when I’m sick.”

“You took care of me when I had lost everything,” Elwain said. “I only wished to return the favor.” His fingers wandered over your stomach, tracing absent patterns on your shirt. You could feel his warmth against your skin. “Usually, that’s how it works, with Faeries. Favors are given because giving means you can get something in return, and you’re always trying to leverage the deal to get more than what you’re giving.” He closed his eyes for a moment, brows furrowing. “But when I saw you were sick, I wasn’t thinking that I needed to pay you back. I was only thinking that I wanted to help you.”

You stroked your fingers through his hair. “That’s what love is.”

“Mortal love,” he sighed. “I always thought it was flimsy and weak and short-lived.” His eyes opened again and he nestled into you. “It’s much stronger than I thought. So much more than I believed. It almost hurts, but it’s a good hurt.”

You started coughing again. Elwain swung himself up and gathered you into his arms. “I’ll take you back to bed,” he said. “You need to get better. I want to continue this.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. You rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. His heartbeat thudded against you, slow and steady. The feeling of him holding you swelled and ached inside you, a pleasant ache. You clung to him as he eased you into bed and settled in next to you. Your illness was all but forgotten. Everything was soft and pleasant under a heady wave of love.

[the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo]

Missed Opportunities | Helmut Zemo x Reader | Chapter 3

Welcome to Part 3! You've made it this far? I'm impressed. Thank you for sticking around. This is quite the long chapter so, I hope you enjoy the juicy action all around.

And this one was quite the doozy to write. It's 3AM now? Hah, I've spent the entire day writing two chapters. But definitely don't expect more at quite this frequency. But I appreciate you all none the less.

-----

Tag Requests: @lostghostgirl94 @neoarchipelago @fillechatoyante @fanfics-ig

Did I miss someone? For future tag requests: Please send me a direct message if possible, it's easy to lose people in the mix and I don't want to miss anyone!

-----

For previous chapters go here: Part 1 | Part 2

Word Count: 5.358

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It had been precisely three hours, forty-two minutes since two Avengers and a criminal mastermind had left the safe house you were staying in.

You were currently staring up at the ceiling with mild boredom waiting for the next round of texts to come in. An alert notification rang through the near empty residence, the noise echoed off the walls of the living room intensifying the reverberation of sound.

Rolling over, you flopped onto you stomach from your position on the couch, stretching your arm out to grab the phone off the coffee table.

Carefully, you read the incoming message. 'No recent signs of Karli, but following up on a handprint Bucky found a couple miles from our initial start position. Zemo has a theory it might lead to a section of tunnel that veers off towards the harbor. Will update again in another hour. - S'

Great.

So they'll easily be gone at least another couple hours, leaving you to your own devices. That's dangerous. There's no telling what kind of trouble you could get into without something to do. Your mind was always processing, constantly formulating new plans and calculating risk probabilities. It's why you were so fidgety and animated. You didn't inherently have ADHD, but your brain was so active the symptoms manifested as such. You had a genius level intelligence, you just chose to down-play it most of the time. You craved activities to keep your mind from going into overdrive; it's why you spend most of your mornings running. To drain your body of excess energy and let your brain rest.

You groaned in irritation, tossing the phone back onto the coffee table. Sam could have at least given you a pin point location so you could do some research on the area where the handprint was found.

Maybe you could read for a bit.

You got up and headed to your room at the back of the apartment. Zemo gave you the last room at the end of the hallway, it also happened to be the only room that had a half bath attached to it. Which in retrospect, was quite thoughtful of him.

As you reached your room, a chilly draft fell across your body, causing goosebumps to raise on your fair skin. You noticed you left a window open in the room and moved to close it. Often times, late at night you sat at the window sill and read to pass the time when you couldn't sleep. Sometimes, you'd crack the window open and simply listen to the sounds of the outside; they were just as soothing. There was no denying it was quite lovely where you were staying. Helmut Zemo had impeccable taste.

You grabbed your book and crossed the room, rubbing your arm to help circulate some heat back into your body, but before you got to the door, a patch of blue caught your eye. Zemo's hoodie. It had been left draped haphazardly over the back of one of the chairs in your room. A constant reminder you needed to give it back to the Baron, but you weren't ready to just yet, and funnily enough, he hadn't asked for it.

Shifting from foot to foot, you debated what to do. It was comfortable. Wearing it one last time couldn't hurt, right? There wasn't anyone here to cajole you about it anyways and you could just take it off before the guys got back. Perfectly reasonable. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you snagged the garment off the chair and pulled it on as you walked back out to the main living room, book in hand.

As you rounded the corner and made your way through the kitchen back to the couch, you heard a loud metallic bang against the entry-way door accompanied with the tell tale signs of door knobs turning. Caught off guard by the sudden intrusion, you had leapt off the ground, clutching the book to your chest.

You stared at the door in fear knowing it was way too soon for anyone to have returned yet. And they wouldn't have caused the disruption in the attempts to break in. Pushing down your apprehension, your senses started to return to you, and you realized you need to get to your phone. Now.

Your eyes moved across the apartment and landed on the coffee table a short distance away from you. Bingo. You took a step forward towards the table when the front doors suddenly swung open and a whirl of red, white and blue flew past your face. The projectile, nearly hitting you, caused you to stumble, knocking you backwards onto the floor. You landed clumsily, but thankfully caught yourself before your head smacked against the ground.

You didn't need to look up to know exactly what object flew at your head. The sound alone was unmistakable.

"Apologies for the erratic entrance, I only meant to use it to help open the door - I hadn't planned on Lemar here unlocking the them so easily. When the doors fell open, it kind of just flew right out of my hand."

Annoyance had now replaced your fear.

John Walker.

You had many opinions of the man based off what Sam and Bucky had told you, but you hadn't had the pleasure of actually meeting him. Until now.

This did not help sway your opinion of him in the very least. If anything, it only solidified that the government had made a rash decision. You don't just had over the shield to anyone.

You glared up at the intruders from your position on the floor. This was completely unexpected. How did he even manage to locate this safe house? Something nagged at the back of your mind that Captain Walker might have had help from people with a questionable background. You shoved the thought aside for the time being.

Lemar had gone around to the back of the couch and pulled the shield out of the wall embedded in between the two stained windows. Walker, who stood next to you, was offering his hand to help you up.

You didn't even make an effort to consider his gesture and got up off the floor without his assistance, dusting yourself off in the process.

Walker appeared undeterred by your dismissal of him and instead put on a winning smile and rotated his hand in the attempts of a handshake.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot. John Walker. Captain America," he proudly stated.

"I know who you are Captain Walker, as well as your friend here," you briskly answered, crossing your arms in front of you.

You could see the smile start to drop off his face and his eyes turn a bit darker.

"And I know who you are as well, you're well documented along with the Avengers, but I was trying to be polite," Walker grounded out with forced effort.

You didn't want to start an argument with the newly anointed Captain America, but there was something off about him that just irritated you.

"Polite?" you sarcastically question. "How is barging into someone's residence, polite? Please, do explain," you shifted your weight onto one side, giving him an expectant look.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. In case you've forgotten, I'm Captain America," he took a step towards you, his body language highly suggesting an intimidation tactic.

You held your tongue and took a step back to place more distance between yourself and Walker. You spared a glance at his partner to gauge his reaction, but his expression was guarded, although he was watching with rapt attention.

"What do you want, Walker?" you bit out. You attempted to keep some of the contempt out of your voice, but he had quickly turned your mood sour this afternoon.

"Where's Zemo?" Walker cut straight to the chase this time.

"Not here, obviously," you held your arms out, gesturing around.

"I want to know where Zemo is. He's coming with us," the captain took another step towards you, this time with a more forceful intention.

You furrowed your brow and took another step back. His posturing was starting to make you slightly nervous.

"Even if I did know where he was, I'm not saying either way. Zemo has been surprisingly helpful to us, and we need him to locate Karli along with the rest of the Flag-Smashers, including the missing vials of serum. And he's more likely to continue working with us, than provide you with any information at all. That I can say with absolute certainty," your words sounded confident, but inside you were trembling.

That was apparently the wrong thing to say to Captain America.

His entire demeanor changed. Once where there was some warmth and light-heartedness, there was only a cold emptiness left in his gaze. He reached back to grab the shield from Lemar, and then without any warning shoved you back against the wall to your left.

You heard the distinct sound of your right shoulder pop as is slammed into the wall along with the rest of your body. The rapid movement from Walker and impact from the shield knocked the wind right out of you. The pressure from the amount of force he was exerting pinned you to the wall and caused the shield to be painfully pressed into your side, separating you from Walker. You could feel the rim of the shield digging slightly into your neck, but not enough to cause any real damage.

"John!" you heard Hoskins shout with alarm from behind Walker.

You swallowed thickly; very real fear had settled into your bones. You were capable of defending yourself, but hadn't actually needed to put those skills into any use. Bucky and Sam had taught you some moves and hold to get out of, but it never crossed any of your minds once you'd have to fight Captain America. You tried to shift your head to the side to see how far away your phone was. What possible options you had. Maybe you could appeal to his partner and deescalate the situation before things got too ugly.

"I'm only going to ask this one last time. Where is Zemo?" Walker spit out, putting force against the shield, which in turn, caused you to grimace in pain.

"Hoskins, you really going to allow Captain America to torture an innocent citizen trying to help in a cause we're all aligned in?" you gasped out, trying to swallow as much air as possible through the pain wracking your body.

You refused to let it show. Holding back as much of the discomfort you were in. You didn't want to give Walker the satisfaction.

"John, ease up. She's not a terrorist, and frankly, I agree with her," Hoskins voiced, his footsteps bringing him closer to Walker with the hopes of gaining his attention no doubt.

The pressure from the shield against your form was lifted slightly, though the shield was still closer to your body than you'd like to admit. You closed your eyes to focus on regaining some stability and figure out your next course of action to get yourself out of this mess.

"Stay out of this Lemar," John replied, but his menacing stature had lessened minutely.

You opened your eyes to stare at Walker. He had removed the shield between the two of you and placed it on his back; however he stepped into your personal space instead and placed a hand against your collarbone, essentially rendering you immobile again.

Well, at least now you could breathe.

Walker peered down at you with distain, "You're really not going to give him up are you?"

You clenched your jaw and lifted your chin defiantly at him.

"No," you answered.

The wheels were turning inside Walker's head. You could literally see the fire burning in his eyes, realizing he wasn't going to get an answer out of you. Not willingly.

He dipped his head and released his hold on you, pointing a finger right at your face, "This isn't over. Not by a long shot."

You saw Lemar walk up and pat Walker's shoulder, "Alright, let's get out of here."

Walker straightened up and stiffly walked away, leaving Hoskins trailing behind. His ego had taken a blow today.

Hoskins gave an apologetic shrug, "He's under a lot of stress."

Before Lemar could fully clear your line of sight, you quietly spoke up, "He doesn't deserve that shield."

Hoskins didn't have a response to that.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

In wake of the aftermath, you had tried to clean up as best possible. You assessed your injuries were non life-threatening, though your right shoulder was most definitely dislocated. The arm was kept close against your body hoping to not jostle it too much. You felt spikes of pain as you cleaned the area where Walker had thrown the shield into the wall, but ignored it so you could get the place back in shape before Sam, Bucky and Zemo returned.

Sam had messaged not too long ago, they were roughly 20 minutes out from the apartment.

Your ribs were throbbing from where the shield had been buried into your side, but you didn't think they had been broken, only bruised. You were going to have to ask one of them pop your shoulder back into place.

You were dreading the conversation, but were determined to remain as calm as possible to help alleviate the immediate reaction they were going to have once you revealed what happened.

The events of the day had finally caught up with you and coupled with the cleaning efforts, your body was signaling it's exhaustion. You were in the kitchen, and honestly didn't think you could make the short trip to one of the sofas; so you carefully sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen and waited patiently.

Sure enough, 20 minutes later, the doors to the apartment opened and the guys swiftly came in to greet you.

"Did you even leave the kitchen?" James inquired, coasting around the kitchen to grab a drink.

You smiled tightly and responded in kind, "For a short while, yes. Did you guys find anything worth while?" You quickly wanted to change the subject but knowing you were only delaying the inevitable.

"Yeah, we think we've discovered a possible building Karli is using to hideout in. We had planned on eating something quickly and then leave again to check it out tonight," Sam explained.

As Sam was talking, Bucky had accidently bumped into you, causing you to wince and pull your arm tighter to you. Luckily, he didn't see your face, but Sam did.

"Hey, you okay?" Sam questioned, voice filling with concern.

You blew out a breath bracing yourself for what you were about to say.

"What happened to my wall?" Zemo piped up, giving you a curious glance, he had moved to run his hand along the diagonal cut, inches deep, in the space between the ceiling to floor windows.

Bucky left his glass and walked over to get a better look, as did Sam. Both of them would know precisely what caused a mark like that to become etched into a wall.

Sam and Bucky snapped their heads back to you as soon as they saw the indention, but it was Zemo who spoke first.

"John Walker was here," he stated, shrugging off his coat and hanging it over the back of the couch he was nearby.

"It was an, eventful afternoon here," you tried to put some overly cheerful, comedic tones into your voice, but failed pretty miserably.

"What happened?" Sam immediately asked.

The trio had made their way back to the kitchen to get answers from you.

Zemo came to stand nearby, eyes roaming your body, searching. With his expertise, there was no question that he would quickly figure out you were injured; so you tried to tell your story as concisely as possible.

"Um, so - Walker and Lemar showed up. He asked for Zemo. I told him he wasn't here aaaaand they left. The end," you hurriedly spoke, wanting to get this over with and not draw any more attention to yourself.

But you could see in Helmut's eyes, he knew there was more to your story. His carefully crafted mask was starting to crack as you saw his gaze drift down to you cradling your arm underneath the island away from Bucky and Sam's eyeline.

"You're hurt," Zemo said. His face showed open concern as he walked the remaining distance to you.

With more tenderness than you thought possible coming from him, he slowly and carefully moved your right arm away from your body. He kept his eyes trained on you for any discomfort or signs of pain.

Once your arm had left your lap though, you reached over with your left hand to grip one of his wrists to prevent him from moving your arm any further.

"Don't, please," you pleaded, gritting your teeth and swallowing down the pain threatening to erupt from you. You were panting now, and more clear than ever something had happened to you while they were gone.

Helmut released your arm without hesitation, but did not leave your side. You saw him exchange tense looks between James and Sam. Normally, Bucky would have been focused on keeping Zemo away from you, but with the current circumstances, he was no longer a priority.

"What actually happened?" Bucky softly called out, he and Sam had gotten closer to take a better look at you. Sam brought a chair out to sit next to you and give you a once over, while you explained.

The expressions on their faces were grim as they anxiously awaited your reply.

"It wasn't - it's not quite as bad as it seems," you started, stuttering out the words as Sam brought his hands up to check your head for any injuries first.

"He just barged right in and was insistent on finding Zemo. He was acting so arrogant and pompous, I just refused to give him any information on his whereabouts," you continued on. "He didn't like the fact I wasn't willing to cooperate with "Captain America" and he got a little.....rough with me."

Sam paused his surveying to meet your gaze. You could see the guilt beginning to creep into his eyes. He turned his head to look up at Bucky, who was angrily flexing his vibranium arm in displeasure. Probably only affirming his notion that Sam should have never given up the shield in the first place.

"What did he do?" Bucky's tone brook no argument. He wanted to know the truth.

You scrunched your face in unpleasantness when Sam checked your lower neck and collarbone, he had found the place on your body where the shield and his hand had met you.

"Is this from - ?" Sam couldn't finish his sentence and he looked away in anger. You could tell he just wanted to get up and throw something, and that was commonly uncharacteristic for him.

Zemo had shifted his position to take a peek at what Sam was doing while he checked you out. You saw how his eyes had darkened with quiet rage taking stock of everything. There was an outline of a thin scrap mark against the underside of your neck and jaw, but it was a clear demarcation that would only be caused from the shield itself.

You nodded sadly and focused on answering Bucky's question as you gave Sam the okay to keep going.

"Walker, didn't get what he wanted, so he did the only other thing he knows how to do," you cleared your throat and rubbed your hand against your forehead.

"Use brute force," Zemo darkly said.

"He used the shield to push me up against the wall over there," you pointed over as you continued re-telling what happened. "I was knocked into the wall pretty hard, but Walker lost all focus and nearly suffocated me from the force of the shield against my body. I think he -" you yelped like a wounded animal, not able to finish your story when Sam touched your shoulder.

Bucky's eyes had widen and became deeply concerned over your pained scream.

Your muscled were clenched tight as you tried to ride out the pain, face starting to turn red.

Zemo had placed a light hand on your back, leaning down to comfort you and remind you to breath.

You fumbled with your good arm as you tried taking in deep breaths and motioned to Sam what was wrong with your arm.

Even with your poor mime animation of pretending to have your arm pulled from your socket, James picked up on what you were getting at. He tapped Sam to switch places with him. Your eyes were watering at this point and you blinked back the tears wanting to fall.

"Alright doll, on the count of three, I'm going to raise your arm and put pressure on your shoulder, okay?" Bucky solemnly said.

Sam gave you a smile of assurance while Zemo ended up taking your good hand, letting you know you could use him to brace yourself. He and James shared a silent conversation before nodding at one another. If Sam had a problem with Zemo providing you comfort, he didn't show it. You figured he was letting some of his dormant humanity rise to surface in this moment.

You shook slightly trying to prepare yourself for the next round of pain once your shoulder was fixed, but James didn't give you any time.

"Three," he commanded, snapping your shoulder back into its socket before you had a chance to even reaction.

You let out another cry of pain, holding onto Zemo's hand tightly, but somehow, the fear of the oncoming pain dissipated as you let go of his hand and rubbed your shoulder with minimal soreness.

You cleared your throat and looked at everyone after a few moments of rest. Surprised at how efficiently James had handled your shoulder, but then again, he was the perfect person to do the job.

You scrunched up your nose at James, "What happened to one and two?"

He huffed out a laugh, "It worked didn't it?"

"Thank you. All of you," you gave a lazy smile through the tiredness that filled you up. "I think I'll be okay now - that was the worst of it. Promise. Walker didn't do any further harm to me. I managed to convince Lemar to get Walker to back down," you glossed over the section where Walker threatened you, but you could bring that up later.

None of them were satisfied with your response, but you're guessing they let it slide given the circumstances.

Zemo reached into the freezer to grab an ice pack. He handed it to you to place on your shoulder helping with your recovery. You accepted it from him extremely grateful. You mused your opinion of him was constantly evolving the more time you actually spent with him.

Sam had asked if you were sure there weren't any other areas you wanted to have checked over for injuries.

You assured him, you were alright, just tired and very sore.

Bucky had swiftly gotten up from his chair and made it known he wanted to go after Walker this evening. You knew he wasn't going to let this incident go any time soon. Sam had also been in agreement after fully understanding what transpired, but Zemo was eerily silent.

"You guys should follow your original plan. Don't let Walker distract you. I'm alive and I am going to be okay. Go follow your lead on Karli," you interjected, trying to be the reasonable one. There was no need for them to go off halfcocked while they were still very upset. You were too, if you were being honest with yourself, but your focus was on your friends first and foremost.

"Well, we're not leaving you here alone. I can stay behind and let Zemo and Sam check things out," James said.

"Actually, it makes the most sense if I stay behind," Zemo chimed in.

"Why is that?" Sam countered warily.

"The particular location you are going to, I have....a history there. It would be wise for me to not be seen in that part of town as to not raise any alarm bells," he reasoned with them.

"And why should we trust you with her?" Bucky asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"Because I have no motive to do any harm to her nor shall I allow any further injury come to her. On this James, I give you my word," Helmut replied, the seriousness of his tone was not lost on anyone in the room.

"Okay," Sam relented, moving about the kitchen to pack some food for their evening night out.

"Just like that, huh?" James said with disbelief.

"Yeah, just like that," Sam parroted back.

Bucky wasn't happy about the situation, but there was an urgency to find Karli, so he caved.

James leaned over on the counter to make sure you were 100% okay being left along with Zemo, reminding you at any time you can call and they'd rush back instantly for whatever reason.

You stood up slowly, balancing the ice pack on your shoulder and shuffled over a few steps towards him, "Thank you. Now, go."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You waved to to your friends a second round of goodbyes for the day. You sagged against the counter, temporarily forgetting about Zemo for the moment. You really needed to lie down.

As if he read your thoughts, you suddenly felt his presence as an arm wrapped around your waist, resting firmly against your hip.

"Here, let me help you get someplace more comfortable than this," Zemo asserted, taking his free hand and dropping the ice pack from your shoulder onto the counter. He then grabbed your left hand, raising your arm and wrapped it around his neck to help support you. So now most of your weight is on your left side, allowing your right to have most of the pressure released from your injuries.

You were so close to him you could smell his expensive cologne and aftershave. It was intoxicating and caused your head to swim a little. You stumbled slightly, but Zemo kept you steady as you both made your way to your room.

In your exhausted state, you managed to sneak in a few glances to Zemo, who was concentrating on the task at hand, not wanting to cause any jarring movements. He deserved more credit than you had been giving him; he truly did seem to care in his own warped way.

Once you had gotten to your room, he guided you to the bed to lie down. Not once had you complained. A true testament of just how tired you were. You couldn't even muster a snarky reply at his disheveled state of being, from practically dragging you down the hallway.

You snuggled into the hoodie you were wearing and tried to lie in a position that wouldn't cause too much discomfort for your shoulder and ribs.

Zemo had stepped into the closet and when he returned he came back with a couple extra pillows. He propped them against your injured side to prevent you from rolling over during the night.

If nothing else, Zemo was incredibly thorough when he focused on something. And right now, that focus was you. It was unnerving, but also thrilling at the same time. Maybe you did have a head injury, because all you could do was smirk at how utterly adorable he was tending to you. It made you curious as to whether this was what Zemo was like before. For the first time, you really wanted to know more about him.

You saw how he was confident in everything he does, and this situation was no different apparently. He had been muttering to himself as he adjusted bedding and made sure there was nothing in the room that you could trip over if you had to get up. He was taking in all the possibilities, like you did.

He had been actively avoiding looking at you though since Bucky and Sam left. You weren't entirely sure why, as he's had zero problems watching you over the past several days. You have a feeling it's because you're one of a few people who have seen beneath the surface of Helmut Zemo, and he's reacting the only way he knows how to at this moment.

Distraction.

You were too sleepy to ponder this any further and turned your head to the side to see what Zemo was fiddling with now.

He had finished up the last of his tasks and looked around the room satisfied with his work. Only then did he turn to look at you.

If it had been anyone else, you would swear that Zemo almost seemed nervous. He was, at many times in your experience, hard to read; so all of these new expressions are a different side for you to see.

Zemo tentatively sat on the edge of the bed next to you.

"Do you need anything?" he genuinely inquired.

You shook your head, indicating you didn't.

All of a sudden he laughed. It ended nearly as quickly as it had began. You raised an eyebrow him in reply, but he simply tugged on the sleeve of his hoodie you were still wearing.

Too tired to be embarrassed about it, you simply mumbled, "Shut up. I still plan on giving it back, although, given it's track record, you should quite possibly get rid of it. After what happened today, I think it might be bad luck."

You saw Zemo dip his head and chuckle at your reply. He look much more carefree when he laughed. You'd have to add him to your daily list. Make Zemo laugh.

His expression sobered rather quickly though and became pensive after that, staring out the window briefly before resting his gaze back on you.

"You keep it. It looks better on you."

Not knowing what to say, caught up in the storm in his eyes, you give a small smile. You can feel your cheeks turning red under the intensity of his stare.

Zemo stood up, getting ready to leave when you stopped him by latching onto his wrist.

"Wait," you murmured.

The swift action caused him to furrow his brow in confusion.

You weren't sure exactly what you wanted from him, only that you didn't want him to go.

"Stay."

You could tell you startled him with your request. Your eyes grew larger realizing the potential double meaning.

"Just until I fall asleep?" you clarified, a yawn escaped as you covered your mouth.

Zemo visibly relaxed and had you relinquish your hold on his arm so he could pull up a chair to your bed. He turned his head around the room in search of something. He went to the nightstand and picked up your book.

Amusement flitted across the features of his face as he read the cover. Zemo sat down on the chair and propped his feet up on the side of the bed.

You shut your eyes and tried to block out the soreness covering your body. Tomorrow would be worse. The next day always is. You had begun to doze off, when ever so quietly, you heard Zemo's voice fill the room.

He was reading to you. Lulling you into a peaceful sleep and letting you know he was still present. Wanting you to know, in his own way, he was upholding his promise to Bucky and Sam. That you were safe with him. That you could trust him just as you had, when you asked him to stay in the first place.

With those final thoughts, you drifted off, listening to the subdued sound of his voice.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[i-desire-jake]

HICKEY PRANK (MC PART)

· GENRE: a bit angst, dom Jake, and a little bit romance.❤️

· CHARECTERS: Jake and fem(MC), slight mention of Hannah.

· Word count: 2251

· SUMMARY: MC does a hickey prank which doesn’t go as expected. (author’s note at the end)

“It is going just according to the plan” I say to Hannah and Lilly giggling.

Well, I have decided to do a hickey prank on Jake. I have been acting cold to him since morning and will continue this act until tomorrow when I’ll show him my fake hickey.

“This is what you get for always sticking to your computer and ignoring me” I say to myself with an evil smirk.

After a few minutes, I’m sitting on the bed with my phone scrolling through some social media when Jake enters the room. He glances at me but again becomes confused when I don’t return his actions. He flops on the bed next to me and wrap his strong veiny hands around my waist.

“Baby…….(cute voice) did I do something wrong?” he asks sulking, I control myself from smiling and remove his hands from my waist. I get up from the bed, “I have to cook dinner (cold voice)” with that I leave the room and go to the kitchen, leaving Jake confused of my actions.

The day went on like this with me ignoring him and acting cold. He tries his best to talk to me but I always either ignore him or give him short cold answers.

The next day in the evening I’m getting ready to go the aurora with Hannah and Lilly.

“MC” he says in a loud voice making me startled. “Hmm” I replied coldly.

“Where do you think you are going wearing that?” he says pointing to the dress I wore. Well, it’s a really short and revealing dress. I wore it on purpose to make my prank seem more real.

“None of your business” I reply coldly and go out of the house before he could say something.

Now, I feel bad for him, I can see he was sad when I said it’s none of his business. Well I can’t do anything now, the prank has started and I will complete it.

(TIME SKIP)

I come back late, really late with that fake hickey mark on my neck. I’m standing outside of our house with phone in my hand and in a call with Hannah. “Hannah, he’ll kill me for sure.” I say a bit afraid of jakes reaction. “Trust me he won’t, and don’t forget to tell me how it goes” Hannah replies from the other side.

“At least wish me luck” I say whining.

She giggles and replies “best of luck, let’s see how my big bro reacts” she says and laughs evilly.

I sigh then open the door to go inside mumbling “you can do it”

I am welcomed by darkness when I enter the house; I make my way to the living room thinking where Jake is. I switch on the lights and flinch slightly when I see Jake sitting on the couch staring at me with his dark eyes. He has covered his head with the black hoodie which is making him look even more creepy.

I gulp then try to go to my room without saying anything, when he interrupts me by saying.

“Do you know what time it is?” he says in a dark voice which sends shivers down my spine. At this point I have completely forgotten about my prank and the hickey makeup on my neck.

He stands up from the couch and slowly walks towards in my direction. My steps automatically make its way backwards, and in no time I’m trapped between the wall and Jake’s huge body.

I gulp, Goosebumps are completely visible on my whole body. Jake then places both of his hands on the sides of my head, trapping me completely leaving no space for escaping. He bends his head down at my level and stares deep into my soul with his piercing dark eyes.

I have never seen him like this before. He looks scary as a demon which can eat you anytime. About the prank it has been long vanished from my mind because of Jake.

He scans me head to toe, that’s when he sees purple red bruise on the side of my neck. His eyes darken even more, it becomes bloody as if he will kill me now with his stares.

He grabs my face in his hand and tilts it sidewards to get a better view of the mark and rubs his thumb gently over my neck.

“You’ve been to aurora, haven’t you?” he asks growling. I have no courage left to speak anything because of his this side. “ANSWER ME” he yells this time.

“y-yes” I say almost whispering. Now, I’m shivering with fear. I never thought this prank will go like this. I thought he would cry and would apologies for his behavior towards me after seeing the hickey mark. But here, it has gone completely opposite. He is angry, super angry. His death stares has already drained half of my soul out of my body and now his dark voice is making me lose my mind.

He pressed his body even more into me after hearing my answer, then says “Does he feels better than me?” he asks darkly still staring at me with his bloodshot eyes.

“w-what?” I ask having no clue what he means.

He chuckles like a maniac then again stares at me and yells “I fucking asked does Phil fucks you better than me?”

I flinch, I’m in the verge of crying now. I know Jake would never do something bad to me, but his words and stares are scaring me as hell.

“J-Jake…..I-I-it’s not what you think….I-it’s just-“before I could complete he interrupts me “it’s just what mc?! What is it mc? You have been cheating on me with that trash. ”He shouts.

Now I can see tears brimming in his eyes, it broke my heart into a million pieces, I can’t control my tears anymore seeing him like this and it starts flowing out like a waterfall.

“J-Jake I-I’m not…..please listen” I say crying

“Listen what? Everything is over….it's over MC”

He holds both of my shoulder and starts shaking me asking me “why? Just why?”

“Was my love not enough? I know I sometimes can’t spend enough time with you but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. My always was always the same for you. I loved you with my whole heart. I loved you from here” he says pointing at his left chest. “Then why? Why did you break me? You were the only one I ever trusted but you broke-“

I was shaking my head continuously sideways when he was saying all of this indicating it’s not like that. I can’t bear anymore so immediately wrap both of my arms around his waist hugging him, but he immediately pushes me away saying “no more, please don’t give me more pain.”

“I understand it now, I was never an ideal type of boyfriend, I never spent enough time with you, it was all my fault……..I’m sorry I bound you in this relationship” he said gloomily, then runs both of his hands through his hair, crying.

“Jake NO!!” I replied sobbing.

“You’re free now mc, you can have a nice life now. I wish you all the best with Phil or whoever he was. After all nobody wants to be with this miserable hacker” he says then turns around to leave, I fell on my knees and hug his leg stopping him from leaving.

“Leave me now mc” he says in his weeping voice.

“No, no Jake. Please…..it’s nothing like that……I love you Jake…I love you….” I say sobbing while he is crying too “j-Jake…I-it was just...just a prank……just a prank Jake, please don’t leave, please I’m begging you” I finally manage to say this between my sobs while still hugging his legs not letting him move from his place.

Jake takes a few second to process what I said then asks shocked “WHAT?!” ………….”No, I know you’re lying now” he says in a stern voice then looks away. As much as he wants all of this to be a lie, but he doesn’t want to get hurt again because of his false hopes.

Just when he was about to push me again and leave, I hear a ringing sound in the room. I look around then found that it was coming from my phone.

Jake raised an eyebrow then asked “who’s calling you this late at night?”

“I have no idea” I said, then opened my purse to takeout my phone but before I could see the callar id, Jake immediately snatched the phone from my hand. “Let me see,…..”.”Hannah?” Jake asked.

“Why is she calling you now” saying this he immediately answered the call and put it on speaker.

OTP: (Hannah) “hey mc, how did the prank go?......tell tell, did he realized his mistake? Did he apologies? I’m sure he cried like a baby…Hey mc why are you not speak-“

He cut the call before Hannah could speak further and looked down at me with his cold eyes. “So you and Hannah wanted to play with my feelings” he said in a cold tone.

“No jake, I-Im sorry…..please…I’m sorry” I replied sobbing harder.

“You have hurt me mc. I never expected this from YOU”. He said then untangled me from his legs and went straight to our bedroom locking the door from inside.

His words pierced my heart, how he emphasized on the word you is making me feel even more guilty. I slowly picked myself up from the floor trying to control my sob and made my way towards the door. “Jake?” I say in a cracked voice, knocking on the door twice, but no response. I tried again, but still no answer.

I slide down on the floor, outside the room trying to control my tears and regret my decision. “I have hurt him. I have hurt him so bad…….h-he was always so good to me, I-I broke his trust….” I am trying to control my tears now, but it has worsened with the negative thoughts I have in my mind now. It didn’t take long for me to choke on my own tears.

“I-I don’t even deserve him…..*sob* he deserves someone better…….*sob* I’m such a bad girlfriend…….”

“What if he will leave me now……I-I can’t live without him. It’s my own fault, my own god damn fault.”

Mumbling these things, I just sit on the door crying whole night. Soon my eyes became heavy and I drifted off to sleep without realizing.

(Time skip)

It was very cold outside. I was shivering due to the Cold weather and also because my clothes were short and I was sleeping on the floor. I was shivering but I was still asleep, morelike half asleep.

A few moments later I can feel myself being lifted up and then someone’s warmth in my sleep.

JAKE POV

It was late, so Jake decided to once check on you cause he was worried. You both have the habit of sleeping while cuddling with each other so that’s the reason he can’t sleep.

He came out of the room, with dried tears on his cheek and saw you lying on the cold floor outside his room. He saw you were shivering.

He couldn’t see you in that state so he picked you up in bridal style and took you to his room. He placed you gently on the bed and got inside the blanket with you.

“What are you doing to me mc?” he said tucking the hair strands behind your ear while you were sleeping in his arms. “What was the need of that stupid prank?” he gently caressed your cheeks then saw that the fake bruise was still there. He rubbed his fingers on the hickey, then got up from the bed.

He took the makeup remover in the cotton ball and wiped off the makeup. “So you even used smudge proof so it won’t get removed when I touch it” *sigh*

“You did this much effort for what, making me apologies to you. You should have talked to me instead of doing these stupid things.”

He said still caressing you cheeks. You then hugged his waist tightly and buried your face in his chest cuddling, finding warmth while still sleeping.

Jake smiled at your sweet gesture.

“I still don’t forgive you. It won’t be that easy to convince a hacker”

Saying this he kissed your forehead, the pulled you more closer to him and slept while cuddling in your embrace.

THE END.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I hope you all like it. I have changed the way of writing. This oneshot is written in a kind of diary format so it would be easier for readers to interact with the characters. If you don’t like anything in this, then you can comment down and tell me so that I could improve.

I originally wanted to write an imagine oneshots of max 300 words, but somehow as I started typing my fingers couldn’t stop itself so here we are with more than 2000 words.😅😅

I WANT TO SAY THIS. PLEASE DON’T DO THESE TYPE OF STUPID PRANKS ON YOUR PARTNER OR ONE DY YOU’LL END UP LOSING THEM.

THANK YOU.❤️❤️

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

It's Delicate: Part III

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 3.9

Author’s Note: Here's Part 3!! This was super difficult for me to get out, but I think I'm happy with it. I rewrote it like 3 or 4 times

It's Delicate: Part III

Spencer notices everything. He’s been trained to notice the slightest change in his environment. He supposes that his profiler training has helped him be more comfortable in social situations. But still, Spencer feels like a fish out of water as he pushes the door to the bookstore open. He knows he should feel at home when he’s in a bookstore, but his heart seems to be racing. Spencer tries to quiet his nerves before he can feel himself running away.

Thinking that it might be a good idea to distract himself, Spencer walks over to the bookshelf filled with books from the floor to the ceiling. He runs his fingers along the spine of the books. Some are old and used, and others are well cared for with their enabled and embossed writing on the spines. He recognizes some titles, but others aren’t too familiar. There’s a whole world of books out there that Spencer has yet to explore. There’s a couple other patrons in the store, an older woman who sits on the soft rocking chair in the back corner and a young woman who already has a pile of books tucked under her arms.

Looking around, Spencer walks towards the back of the store where a glowing sign directs him to the restroom. He goes into the Men’s Room and locks the door behind him. Spencer looks at his reflection in the mirror. He wouldn’t consider himself a vain man, nor would he consider himself aloof about his appearance. He’s very much aware of the deep lines that collect around his eyes and the dark bags underneath. Spencer runs his fingers through his hair, wondering if he should have gotten a haircut. He likes the way his longer hair looks. It took so long after getting released from prison to get his curls back. His hair is the one part of his physical appearance that Spencer can say he likes; the rest he’s a little less than indifferent about on a good day.

Spencer shuts the light off in the bathroom and heads back to the front of the store. He approaches the store clerk, who sits behind the counter. She’s talking with the young woman who had the pile of books tucked under her arms. Spencer looks around the store, trying to find a sign for where the book club meets. He realizes that he doesn’t even know what Y/N looks like. He decides to take out his phone to text Y/N that he’s here. Spencer walks to the short stories section of the store and looks for the “P”s. Once he finds the book he’s looking for he takes a photo and attaches it to the message.

Spencer: How have I not discovered this place sooner??

He doesn’t expect for Y/N to text him back right away, so he tucks his phone back into his pocket. Spencer walks to the front of the store. The display highlights the books of the month with different authors, genres, and themes. It’s a quaint little store and Spencer wonders why he put off visiting so long. The young woman finishes with the clerk and brushes past Spencer, her face buried in her phone. Spencer walks towards the shelves of True Crime books. He sees Rossi’s latest release about the Golden State Killer. Before Spencer can pick up the book, he feels his phone buzz in his pocket.

Y/N: Ooooh a man after my own heart :) I’m guessing you’re here too

Spencer: Yes...I just realized I don’t know what you look like?

Y/N: Well, I guess that means you have to find me

Spencer looks around at the patrons in the store. The older woman and the younger woman seem like the only logical candidates. The young woman doesn’t look up when Spencer brushes past, her attention is intently focused on the book across her lap, while the older woman swipes on her e-reader.

Spencer: You know I could just call you and your phone would ring

Y/N: That’s like cheating

Y/N: Turn around

Spencer turns around and is greeted by the young woman who brushed past him before. She smiles up at him and Spencer can’t help but grin back at her. He didn’t really give much thought to what Y/N looks like, and he can only hope that she didn’t think too much about him in that way. Spencer has to stop himself from that spiral, and remind himself that it’s not a date.

“You’re Y/N?” Spencer asks, hoping that he doesn’t sound too nervous.

“Yes, and I really hope you’re Spencer,” she says, “you’re nothing like I pictured,”

Spencer’s face must have shown his shock because Y/N’s hand comes up to gently touch his upper arm in an attempt to quell his worry.

“No, nothing bad, Spencer. You just text like a grandpa so I figured you were a lonely old man. I’m just surprised that you’re pretty...young is all,” Y/N finishes her voice climbing up a couple of scales making her nerves evident.

Spencer nods in agreement, used to people thinking he’s older than he actually is his entire life. He supposes that’s because of his intelligence coupled with his social ineptitude.

“Well, judging by your texting, I predicted that you would be around my age, or younger,” Spencer says he’s always had difficulties keeping conversations going, yet right now his mind is swimming of different things he can tell Y/N.

“So you ready for your first Book Buddy meeting?” Y/N asks. The corners of her mouth turn upwards in a playful smile. Spencer likes her smile and grows disappointed that the only time he’ll be able to see it is when they meet together. As much as he is technology adverse, he wouldn’t mind being able to see her smile through her emojis and snarky messages.

“I’m still not too sure what we’re supposed to do, but at least I’ve got you to show me,”

“Come on Book Buddy virgin,” Y/N says winking at Spencer as she walks past him to the staircase that leads to the store’s basement.

Spencer tries to ignore her comment, but even with his brain power he can’t stop his ears from turning pink. He’s always blushing around people who listen to him, especially when those people are so enthralling to watch.

In the basement, there’s shelves and shelves of books lining the walls. A couple of couches and sofas are tucked in the corner with a table and lamp. The soft light is warm and inviting. Spencer’s eyes can’t help but to scan the various titles in the collection. Y/N flops down on the couch and taps the seat, signalling for Spencer to sit next to her.

Sitting down next to her, Spencer wonders how much space he should put between them. He doesn’t want to sit so close and have her think he’s only here to make a pass at her. Nor does he want to sit so far away, because the scent of her peppermint and eucalyptus perfume threatens to mesmerize him.

Y/N brushes her hair from her face with her right hand, that’s adorned with a ring and a couple gold bracelets. She looks over at Spencer apprehensively and he tries to give her a comforting smile back, but he’s afraid that he just looks awkward. He suddenly is very aware that his breath tastes like stale coffee and his hair is wild, pointing out in several directions.

“So Spencer,” Y/N says, “usually we meet in a big group to do these Book Clubs, but this year the store decided to do this Book Buddy thing. Reading and picking out books for someone can be a very personal thing, so I’d like to get to know you a little bit better if that’s alright?”

Spencer’s eyes steady the woman before him. She looks over at him, her eyes never breaking from his. Psychology shows that holding eye contact is a sign of confidence, for a litany of reasons, Spencer has always had difficulties maintaining eye contact. He sighs loudly. It’s almost a mix between exasperation and confusion. Even though Spencer has spent a good portion of his adult life surrounded by very forward people, he still feels slightly nervous when he comes across those types recreationally. Especially when those types seem to have smiles so contagious that they throw every scientific study on germs out the window.

“You want to know about me?” Spencer repeats. He can feel his ears flush, and is thoroughly reminded that he hardly knows who he is.

“Yes, I want to know all your salacious stories Spencer,” Y/N says with a sly smile.

Spencer chokes out a strained laugh before he tries to think of an answer. He can’t remember the last time someone wanted to get to know him. Or maybe he does, and just wants to pretend that those memories died with her. But he can’t, because they are painful and real.

“I’m an FBI Agent, uh the Behavioral Analysis Unit specifically. We track down serial killers and other time sensitive cases,” Spencer says, used to giving the speech about his job on the rare occasion he does talk to another lonely soul at a random bar in a city.

He looks over at Y/N, ready for the reaction he usually gets. Sometimes it’s pity, other times it’s awe. But it all tastes the same with a shot of whiskey.

“That must be an incredibly exhausting job, Spencer. It takes a special kind of person to do that,”

That’s strange, Spencer thinks. Her words aren’t full of pity or awe, but almost understanding. It’s strange, but Spencer likes strange things, after all.

“It is,” Spencer says. He doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence with useless words that he knows are stale and meaningless. Somehow the silence doesn’t feel awkward.

“How long have you been in the FBI?” Y/N asks. She’s curious, but cautious to proceed and Spencer appreciates that.

“Since I was 22. I’m 34. I’ll be 35 soon,” Spencer says, still not fully believing that he’s spent nearly 13 years at the BAU.

“22, that’s a baby. I didn’t think that the FBI would recruit that young,”

Spencer grimaces, realizing that sooner or later this conversation would arise. He figured it would have come up when he got through the books in an hour or two. Spencer hates having to tell people about his intelligence. He never wants to make someone feel inferior about themselves because of his brain chemistry and genetic lottery.

“I’m kinda smart. Technically I’m a genius but I really hate that term. The idea behind intelligence testing has a very sexist and racist background. Besides, I don’t think true intelligence is accurately quantifiable,” Spencer tells her, repeating his speech usually reserved for arrogant detectives.

“That sounds like something a genius would say. You’re a humble genius. That’s a rare breed, Spencer” Y/N says, that contagious smile turning up the corners of her mouth and threatening to take over Spencer’s.

“I think that’s a compliment,” Spencer says “what about you? Tell me about yourself?” Spencer says, trying to remember the points of the conversation books he used to read as a kid in hopes of making a friend.

“Let’s see, you already know the boys. I don’t have any siblings and my mom lives in Florida, so we don’t see each other too often. I’m a Funeral Director in Alexandria, took it over after my dad passed a couple years,” Y/N says.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Spencer responds. Y/N smiles again, clearly a little tense to be talking about a sensitive topic.

“So Second Cat, I take it you’re a Poe fan,” Spencer says, holding to help ease into a more pleasant conversation.

“I like his short stories the best, but Emily Dickinson poetry will always have my heart. There’s something so ordinarily beautiful about the way she writes. She was so brilliant. And her and Susan, that’s a tragic love story,” Y/N finishes. She plays with the hem of her jacket absentmindedly almost like she wants to say something more.

“I first read “The Tell Tale Heart” when I was around 5,” Spencer starts, he rests his elbows on his knees to tell a story and he can’t help but feel a little excited when Y/N leans in a little closer to listen in, “I checked it out from the library and brought it home to read. Now it just so happened that I got a chemistry set. I will not incriminate myself but I may or may not have used the set as the directions intended,” Spencer says, holding up his hands in innocence.

Y/N scams him with a calculated stare, it’s not mean or judgmental, but cautious and careful. It’s like she’s deciding if she can trust him or not. He supposes she does when she winks back and says, “I’m sure that’s true Agent Reid,”

“It’s actually Dr Reid, but I’ll get there another day,” Spencer says quickly, eager to get back to his story, “so the chemistry set had some chemicals, the kind that won’t hurt kids. But I stole some sodium chlorate from the local gardening store and a pack of gummy worms from the Mini-Mart. Then I got back home and took out the chemistry set. I drop some of the sodium chlorate and gummy bears into the test tube and it starts to glow!” Spencer says, his voice gets excited when he remembers the experiment. There’s very few happy moments of his childhood, and this is one.

Y/N, listening to him eagerly, wears an excited expression as Spencer continues with the story. He’s forgotten what it’s like to have someone so interested in what you have to say.

“How does Poe fit in?” Y/N asks. Spencer’s fingers make a “1” as if to tell her to be patient.

“So I do the experiment and there’s pieces of molten gummy worms in my hair and on my clothes, but then I hear my mother walking up the stairs so I panic,” Spencer says, he’s an animated storyteller and Y/N is a captivated audience. He tries to not pay close attention to how her eyes hardly leave his or how they seem to be looking at him with wonder. But it’s hard to ignore that when you’ve never been looked at like that before.

“I scramble into my bed and shove the experiment under the bed, and it’s still smelling like burnt chemicals and gummy worms, mind you. And I pretend to read, but I’m reading The Tell Tale Heart, which you know is about a man who’s trying to cover up a terrible deed but literally shoving it under the floor. You know I think my 5 year old mind exploded that day,” Spencer says, he leans back so his head rests against the wall.

“It must have made quite an impression on you at what 5? How on Earth did you read Edgar Allen Poe at 5 years old? I didn’t read that until like Freshman year of high school,”

“I told you I was kind of smart,” Spencer replies, hoping that it would suffice.

“Yeah, but like a child prodigy that must have been very lonely,” Y/N says in a voice that tells Spencer she knows a thing or two about being intensely lonely.

“No one ever says that,” Spencer says in a hushed tone, “no one ever gets that it’s a lonely thing being a genius,” he finishes, putting air quotes around genius to show his discomfort with the term.

Y/N nods, “I’m not a genius by any means, Spencer, but I was an only kid. Part of me thinks it’s my fate to lonely,”

“I’m an only kid too,” Spencer says, “when I asked my mom why they didn’t have anymore kids she just told me why mess with perfection. I know it was meant to make me feel better, but part of me wonders what it would have been like to have a built in friend,”

“Tell me if I’m overstepping, I tend to do that, but do you want kids?” Y/N asks, she twists a ring that’s wrapped around her finger over and over like it’s a bad habit. She looks at him, expecting an answer, from the corner of her eye.

“I did,” Spencer says in a quiet voice, terrified that he’ll reveal too much to this enticing woman with eyes that never seem to want to look anywhere, but his.

“So did I,” Y/N tells him. Her voice mirrors his in it’s guarded, yet scared to reveal too much tone. Spencer is too busy hiding his own worry to recognize Y/N’s.

“I was thinking,” Spencer starts, determined to end the stale silence that settled between them, “of what book I thought you’d like. It’s actually a personal copy of mine. I had know clue how these things work, but I thought we could write notes in the margins. You know our thoughts and ideas about the book,”

Y/N gazes over at Spencer intently, as if she’s trying to think of how she’ll respond. Spencer notices the way Y/N pauses to think before she speaks, he tries to subdue the profiler training that ebbs to the surface, but he can’t control what his instincts tell him. He knows that Y/N is holding something back, but then again, so is he and who is he to judge.

“You’re okay with writing in a book?” Y/N asks, “I know that could be touchy for some,”

“Most of my books have little writings in the margins. I always thought that a book is a love letter from the author to the reader. You get to see inside their mind and to me that’s incredibly personal,” Spencer says, rubbing his palms that grew sweaty on his pants. It’s useless, because they just slide off.

“Well, you’ve convinced me, I brought a book too, but it doesn’t have notes,” Y/N says, “but if this works out, I’ll do it next time?” Y/N asks him, the hope in her voice apparent.

“I’d love nothing more than that, Y/N,” Spencer says, wanting nothing more than to reach out and brush his fingertips against Y/N’s. Her hand keeps on creeping closer to Spencer’s, he thinks that she’s trying to send him a signal, but Spencer feels too wounded, too raw to take that first big leap.

“So,” Spencer starts, he decides to clasp his hands together to avoid this new predicament, “what book did you decide on?”

“Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro, it’s one of the few books that is perfect,” Y/N says, putting emphasis on the “perfect,”. Spencer thinks that he can grow to be eager to wait each week for the hour or so he’s able to watch Y/N speak with such passion and love.

“I’ve heard about, but I generally read technically books and other that it’s mainly just books that aren’t in English,” Spencer tells her, he rummages through his bag, looking for his book for Y/N.

“Close your eyes please,” Spencer says, he hides the book behind his back, he smiles as Y/N’s absurdly contagious smile grows.

“Come on Spencer, I don’t like being teased,” Y/N whines, faux pout and all.

Spencer grabs her hand and guides it to the cover of the book, The Goldfinch. He lets go of her hand; his practically stinging from the way her fingertips pressed up against the back of his hand, even though it was only for a couple of seconds.

“The Goldfinch” Y/N says, “ooh how on Earth did you know I love Donna Tartt?”

“Lucky guess, I suppose,” Spencer says, a surge of confidence bolstering him enough to wink at Y/N.

Spencer watches as Y/N flips through the pages of her book. Spencer read it a couple of weeks ago and loved the way the author intertwined the mystery to create a riveting story. Spencer checks his watch, realizing that nearly two hours have passed since he and Y/N sat on the couch.

Just as Y/N goes to say something, Spencer’s phone rings, ripping him from his modest paradise. He gives Y/N an apologetic look and mouths “work” as he steps away from Y/N.

“Reid,” he says, he forgot to check the caller ID, a little too excited to finish this call and get back to Y/N.

“Is that seriously how you greet your favorite person in the world?” the voice, presumably Garcia asks.

“Garcia,” Spencer says, unable to hold back his slight annoyance.

“I know it’s time off, but I guess like male serial killers don’t respect women, they don’t respect our time off either,” Garcia quips.

“I’ll be there in 20, I’m out and I’ll need to get my go bag,” Spencer tells her, preparing for the inevitable.

“I know exactly where you are, Spencer. A little birdie told me you’d called him in panic. I really hope your lady friend appreciated your lavender shirt,” Garcia says. Spencer can hear the click of keys as she talks.

He rolls his eyes, but knew that this was to be expected, “Later, Garcia,” he says, hanging up the phone call. Spencer walks back over to Y/N, whose face is buried in the book. She twirls a pen in her right hand, like she’s thinking about what she’ll write in the margins.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, but I have to cut this short, work emergency,” he explains to an Y/N understanding Y/N, who nods her head.

“Don’t worry, text me that you got home safe, please,” Y/N tells him, looking up at him with genuine worry in her eyes.

“I promise, Y/N. I’ll see you soon,” Spencer says, grabbing his book and making his way up the stairs. He reaches the top flight when his phone buzzes.

Y/N: I mean it :)

Y/N: It was nice meeting you officially….

Spencer reads over the messages as he walks, replaying the interaction in his head. It’s strange to have someone care if you make it home say. The only people on Earth, besides Spencer’s mother, that care if Spencer makes it home are the people that risk their lives with him as well.

Spencer shoots a quick message back.

Spencer: I promise and I hope you like the book, it’s very special to me.

Y/N: I’m sure I’ll love it! Now go save the world :) :)

Spencer smiles to himself as he reads the message, amazed that her contagious smile can make its way through the string of code from his smartphone. As he drives off, Spencer thinks about the way Y/N actually listens to him or the way her hair sees fall perfectly into place. He thinks about her laugh and the way she almost makes him feel safe in the short time he’s known her.

But all those good thoughts amount to nothing, when the biggest thought on Spencer’s mind revolves around the shiny ring that sits on her left hand on the finger between her pinky and pointer finger.

A wedding ring.

-TAGLIST- (Comment to be added or if I forgot to add you)

@shemarmooresfedora

@april-14-blog

@willowrose99

@calm-and-doctor

@spideygenius

@measure-in-pain

@nomajdetective

@spencerreid9

@saspencereid

@laurakirsten0502

@thatsonezesty13 (I'm trying what's wrong with this tag)

Thank You For Reading