#i was gonna do a full set but then i ran out of ideas oops

[callsign-rogueone]

questions

Ridoc Gamlyn x reader (sweetheart!) Part three of Ridoc and Sweetheart's story words: 2.9k 🏷: no real book spoilers, this will make more sense if you've read Resson (Garrick's version) but it's not required, set a week or two into Iron Flame, this is a sweetheart chapter so warning for intrusive / self-deprecating thoughts and anxiety spirals, I made a bunch of stuff up about Ridoc's life because RY never told us anything, Rhith being a cool mom, this hasn't been proofread, oops. gonna go have a bagel now byeeee

Rhith had told you that Ridoc would meet you at the gates at eleven — so naturally you’ve been standing there since 10:45, rocking back and forth on your heels and peeling your cuticles.

Why did you agree to do this? Actually, this was your idea — why did you bring it up? What if he’s not going to show up, and you’re just going to stand here for an hour like an idiot?

“Hey! Am I late?” he asks, startling you out of your thoughts. He’s a little out of breath, like he’d ran here, but he offers you a wide smile nonetheless.

You open your mouth to speak just as the bells chime. 

“Guess not,” he laughs when they’re done. “You ready to go?”

You nod, stuffing your hands into your pockets so he can’t see the state of your fingers. Thankfully it’s not too hot to wear your flight jacket. This is your first venture into town, and you don’t want to have your relic on display when you’re in a new place — just going is scary enough.

He leads the way — of course he knows where you’re going. He probably goes out every weekend with his friends; another way you’re completely different.

“I figured we could play twenty questions,” he offers. “Get to know each other a little more. You can go first, if you want.”

You take a second to remember how to speak again. “Alright, um… do you have any hobbies?”

“Coming up with jokes is pretty time consuming.”

“And here I thought they were all completely spontaneous,” you say, shaking your head. “Do you write them all down in that fabled diary of yours?”

He laughs. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t actually have one?”

You tilt your head to the side, considering it. “Only because I don’t see you spending your free time sitting down, writing.” 

“You wound me, sweetheart. I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of writing complete sentences.”

“I never said you weren’t. I just said that I didn’t see you doing it.”

“Fair. Tell me about your book,” he prompts. “The one you’re always carrying around.”

“That’s not a question.”

He gives you a sly smile. “Well played. I’ll rephrase, then. What’s the book about? Do you like it?”

“That’s two questions.”

He laughs, warm and full. “I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Three.”

“Okay, okay. The first one, then — what's it about?”

“The main character is a trained assassin who is called before the king to join a contest to become his hitman, basically. But the contestants keep getting murdered in the night by some creature that they can’t track down.  It’s part of a series, but I’ve never seen the other volumes anywhere. I like to imagine a different ending every time I read it.”

“You’ve read it more than once?”

You ignore the fact that that’s yet another question, answering it without protest. “Yeah. I know that’s dumb, but it was the book I was in the middle of when my life went to shit. It’s technically property of the library in Aretia, but it was burnt to the ground, so I never gave it back.”

Your heart beats a little faster at the mention of your hometown, and you immediately regret bringing it up, but thankfully Ridoc seems none the wiser. 

“There’s nothing dumb about it if it makes you happy.”

You’ve just stepped into the tiny restaurant when a man that you guess is the owner sees Ridoc and pulls him into a tight hug. “I was wondering when you’d bring your girlfriend!”

Your cheeks warm, but you don’t correct him — that would be too awkward.

Ridoc doesn’t correct him either. “I set up Ezra here with ice that never melts,” he explains with a smile.

“It’s been a blessing. Keeps everything fresh longer, so I don’t have to waste it. You two sit — I’ll make you something special, on the house.” He disappears into the tiny kitchen in the back, leaving the two of you alone in the nearly-empty dining room. 

Ridoc gestures to a table in the corner, away from the door, and you settle into the chair silently. You can’t help but run through Garrick’s mental checklist — your back is to the wall, and you have clear sight of the two exits. You have a knife in your right boot and one in your left sleeve — plus the blunt one laid on the table in front of you. The fork would probably do more damage, though.

“I think it’s your turn.”

“Hm? Oh. Right.” You take a moment to look at him. “Why are you here?”

He gives you a stupid grin. “Because you asked me on a date.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I mean, why Basgiath? Why the rider’s quadrant?”

“Oh, I know. I just wanted to remind you that this whole thing was your idea. But really… probably because I’m an adrenaline junkie who feels like he has to prove to the world that he’s not an idiot. And I’ve always admired the riders and their magic. We can do some pretty cool shit.” 

There’s a pause, and his voice softens as he continues. “I know you didn’t want to be here, so I probably sound super ignorant saying all that. I do think it’s fucked up that you didn’t get a choice — and the way that they handled all of it.”

“I respect your answer. It was honest.”

His turn for a question. “How do you feel about it, really, being here? Not here as in here,” he clarifies, tapping the table, “but at Basgiath.”

You look at him for a second. “Is that your question, or…”

“It can be. But if you don’t want to talk about it, we can go back to the dumb ones.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say quietly, thinking for a second. “I’ve accepted it, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.”

He’s quiet, giving you space to elaborate — the same way Garrick does; not prying, but silently offering to let you tell him what you’re thinking, if you want to.

“Challenges are the one thing here that doesn’t scare me, because I don’t have to think about it anymore. I know what to do if someone takes a swing at me, and I know how to disarm someone, because Garrick made me practice hundreds of times. But everything else…” 

“Is uncertain and unfamiliar, and therefore scary,” he finishes for you. 

You’re a little surprised by the gentle tone of his voice, the lack of judgment in his words. “That pretty much sums it up.”

Another pause.

“I’ve had an anxiety disorder pretty much my whole life,” you admit. “I was that kid in school that everyone thought couldn’t speak, because I never talked to anyone, except my siblings. Liam was my first real friend who was my age. He didn’t mind the quiet. We would just sit together, and he’d do his wood carvings while I read my books. That was good enough for both of us.”

“Where are they now? Your siblings, I mean.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking down at the tablecloth and the barely distinguishable pattern of flowers woven into it. 

“I know that’s two in a row for me,” he says, backpedaling. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I had a brother and a sister. They were eight and ten years older than me, but they were my best friends. I think they knew that I didn’t have anyone my age, so they always let me tag along for everything until they left for Basgiath.”

“They went here?”

You nod. “As infantry. When they graduated, they joined Fen Riorson’s movement, and a few years later, they were executed along with my parents.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Something compels you to keep talking, to push past the awkwardness and condolences. “I don’t mind talking about them. It’s hard, but they were an important part of my life, and they deserve to be remembered. Losing them was devastating, but Garrick and my foster sister helped fill that void.”

You trace a fingernail over one of the tiny flowers. “I think… I think that’s why I kept pushing you away, and why I haven’t really made any friends here. Being marked doesn’t help, but I can never let myself get close to anyone, because everyone I’ve ever been close to has left me, one way or another.”

You can’t bring yourself to say “died” — and that wouldn’t be quite correct, either. Garrick is very much alive, last you’d heard, but he’s at least a twelve hour flight away. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I only met her twice, but she was always kind to me and everyone she met.”

It takes you a second to realize that he means your foster sister — as far as Ridoc and the rest of the school know, she’d died at Resson along with Liam and Soleil.

“She was,” you say softly. 

It feels weird speaking about her in the past tense. You know she’s not dead, that she’s safe with Brennan and the elders, but the last time you saw her, she might as well have been — she’d felt so cold, and looked so drained, unable to respond to you or even open her eyes. 

She has to be awake by now, starting to recover. She has to push through, if for no reason other than that it would absolutely shatter both you and Garrick if she didn’t. 

Ridoc exhales, choosing his next words carefully. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that, especially so young. But for what it’s worth, which probably isn’t a lot — I think you’re handling it all incredibly well, and you’re really brave for it.”

You, handling anything well? and being brave? Yeah, right. You take a sip of water to cover the look of dry disbelief on your face, but he sees it anyway. 

“I mean it. Bravery isn’t “never being scared”, it’s “being scared but doing the scary thing anyway”, and you’ve been doing that every day for the last year — for your whole life, honestly. I think that’s admirable.”

You blink at him for a moment, surprised. 

“It’s true,” Rhith says gently. 

“Thank you,” you say softly — to both of them. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

He offers you a soft smile. “I think that’s enough deep questions for now. Thank you for telling me all of that, though. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” you agree. “But I feel… lighter.”

“Lighter is good.”

Ezra arrives at the perfect time, holding a tray with two plates of steaming noodles and two glasses of water, placing them in front of you and making a quick exit.

Ridoc brushes a hand against his glass, and you watch the pattern of frost crawl over the edges as it chills itself near instantly. “Want me to do yours?”

You blink, realizing he’s speaking to you. “Sure. Thank you.”

He pushes the cold glass toward you, taking the other and chilling it for himself.

The question comes out before you can think. “How long did it take you to get used to the cold?”

He looks up at you, surprised. “Not long. A week, maybe. I run hot, so sometimes it’s kinda nice.”

You nod in understanding. He’d been warm to the touch when he’d wrapped his arms around you, and you’d melted right into him. That was a first. But so is this, and it seems to be going okay.

You both eat without further discussion, every minute of quiet a little more comfortable than the last. The food is good — better than anything they serve at Basgiath. 

“So, where’s home for you?” you ask after a while.

“Deaconshire,” he answers. “My dad’s still out there. It’s been just me and him for a while.”

“Not too far, then,” you comment, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he hadn’t mentioned his mother. 

“Yeah. I’ve thought about going AWOL for an afternoon, just to see him for an hour or two. But at least the letters will arrive fast.”

“Right,” you say softly, pushing the last piece of pasta around your plate idly. 

It hadn’t really sunk in yet that you can write letters now, as a second year. You could write to Garrick, but it would be too dangerous to send anything to Aretia, with the professors reading everything to make sure there’s no classified information being spread. You might be able to write to the Duke, and hope he passes it on to the right people, but that would still be deemed suspicious. 

Maybe Bodhi could help you.

“Where’d Garrick get stationed?” he asks.

“Samara,” you answer quietly. 

He winces, knowing that’s right on the front between Navarre and Poromiel, but he recovers quickly. “He’s with Xaden, right? They’ll take care of each other.”

“Yeah.”

“They’ll be fine,” he reassures. “They were the two biggest, most intimidating dudes in fourth wing. Nobody’s going to mess with them — but if anyone’s dumb enough to try, they’ll get what’s coming to them. And they can definitely kick ass in the air, too.”

He’s right — they’ll be fine.

Probably.

“Yeah,” you say again, hoping it sounds convincing. “They can definitely hold their own.” But against wyvern… what if what happened to Deigh happens to Chradh or Sgaeyl, and there’s nothing they can do? 

You force the thought out of your head before the universe can hear it and make it come true. 

“You ready to head back?” he asks gently.

You nod in affirmation, and he gets up, finding Ezra. The owner bids him a cheerful goodbye that includes a hearty pat on the back, while you stand by the table and offer him a weak wave and a soft thank you.

The walk back to the school is quiet, only the crunching of gravel under your boots, but this time the silence isn’t as loud.

You’ve already said everything you needed to say, laid all your cards face up on the table and shown them to the other — almost all of them, you think with a little flare of guilt, but there are some things you just can’t tell anyone, for the sake of Tyrrendor in its entirety.

“This one’s mine,” you say quietly, stopping in front of your door. 

You call it yours, but it doesn’t feel that way. Just because you sleep here and your stuff is piled up in the corner, yet to be unpacked, doesn’t make it feel like yours, and doesn’t make it feel safe, despite the ward that Garrick had helped you put up before he left for Samara with Xaden.

Ridoc offers you a warm smile. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. I’d really like to see you again, if you want.”

“I’d like that too.”

He lingers, and for a moment you’re worried that he’s expecting something of you, but he remains a few steps away, his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” you add. “For today. And for finding me yesterday.”

“Of course, sweetheart. And next time you start to feel that way, you can have Rhith tell Aotrom to get me, okay? You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone.”

“Okay,” you say softly. 

He gives you another knee-weakening smile before he heads off, disappearing into a room that must be his — eight doors down, on the other side of the hall.

You make it inside just as the bells strike twelve thirty. The afternoon is still young.

You decide to unpack — starting by shoving the box of your sister’s things into the bottom of the armoire. You’d burned most of her stuff, to maintain the appearance that she’s actually dead, but you and Garrick had both taken some for yourselves. Malek couldn’t get mad about that, right?

You don’t know if you should worry what he thinks or not — you despise him for taking everyone away from you, but you need to remain in his good graces if you want to keep the few people you have left. But you aren’t sure how — it remains unclear what you did, or didn’t do, to deserve that. 

“It was nothing you did,” Rhith says gently, startling you. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

“Sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to project that to you.”

“We’ve talked about the apologies, sweet one,” she prods. “They’re never necessary.”

“Sor—” you stop yourself before you can finish the word. “I’ll work on that.”

She changes the subject for you. “I’m proud of what you did today. I know that was difficult for you.”

“It’s easier with him,” you say quietly. “I don’t know why, but it is.”

“Many things don’t require explanation. It is enough to simply appreciate them.” 

Spoken like a true green. “I wish I could be as logical as you,” you sigh. 

“There is value in both logic and emotion, but there is a balance to be found between them.”

You sit with the statement for a moment as you start to fold the laundry you’d shoved into a bag and dragged up the stairs when you’d moved, trying to smooth out the wrinkles to no avail.

“What do you think?” you ask. “about him, I mean.”

“I think he has a good heart. He genuinely cares for you, but it is your decision whether to trust him or not. And even if you do, there are some things that he can never know.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I know.”

“I’m proud of you, my girl.”

You’re a little bit proud of yourself too.

[mochabreeze]

~Somewhere that desires me~

Kakucho x reader

(Reader is also friends with Izana)

Fluff,wholesome, angst (TW:guns)

Somewhere, beneath the heart,is where our memories set.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊**＊✿❀○❀✿＊**＊✿❀○❀✿＊

"Cmon! Let's go outside!"

Shouted happily.The young yet innocent Izana said.As he sway his hand to tell the other two to come.The three ran towards the halls while putting there beaming smiles.Once they are in front of the exit of the institution,they forcefully open the doors with both of their hands. As they look at all of the whiteness of the snow.They all smile. "Snow!" They all said.They began to play with the snow, suck as snowball fights or even making a snowman. "Take this!" Reader said as she throws one of her snowballs at Izana.He laughed as he throws a snowball at reader and Kakucho.

"Nice snowman, Kaku-kun!"

Kakucho stops his movements of making the snowman. As he looked at her with his cheeks full of dust of red.Izana giggles "Someone is in love~" he teased. "S-shut it!" Kakucho said with his whiny tone while heavily blushing. As he look at reader with soft eyes, "yea.. Thanks" he said. Reader smiled happily

"You destroyed my snowman, Izana!"

Kakucho whined at him while Izana, oh well. Sitting on the destroyed snowman.

"Oops,sorry.didn't know that I was sitting on it"

As Izana sat up. Kakucho looks at him with his rage eyes "you!-" as reader cuts him off with her soft finger placed on his lips to silence him. "Don't worry Kaku-Kun. At least we will do something else" she smiled. "Talking about "something".lets actually make an igloo!".Kakucho's eyes shine brightly and nods his head while reader was proud at Izana's idea.

"We will make a kingdom..and make the people happy in their place"

Izana says while writing inside the Igloo. While Kakucho and reader looks at him while writing."a kingdom?" Reader said as she look at Izana's plan. "Of course! We are gonna make a kingdom!"

They later got out of the Igloo and lay on the snow with their arms and legs free.as they look at the tiny snowflakes falling. "So.If I'm Tang Sanzang...Then your Sun Wukong, right Kakucho? And Reader, your Guanyin"

"Huh? Journey To The West?" Kakucho questioned as Reader smiled.

"Then that means the our kingdom's name is Tenjiku!" Izana smiled.

"Oh I see. That's a great name!" Kakucho and reader said. "Why not we count snowflakes first for a while? Let's see who counts the most snowflakes!" Reader said

"That will be fun!" The boys laughed.

As they counted the snowflakes happily

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊**＊✿❀○❀✿＊**＊✿❀○❀✿＊

6 years later, February 22nd.

Reader suddenly heard her cell phone ringing at night...whi could've be?... As she flip her cell phone and slides the call.

"Hello?" Reader said.

.....

Reader's eyes widen in darkness and her whole body turned into stone and her heart crashed down.

"Yes.. I will be there in the hospital."

Reader puts her phone down and gets her jacket and scarf and hurries to Yokohama's hospital.As she barged in to the hospital and tries to find her dear friends. She looked in the window of the patient room and saw Kakucho. Laying on the bed while his eyes were closed. The shoot on his chest was still visible. But who would do that?... As she sighs in relief. But then...what about Izana?.. Where did he go?..Her eyes started to become dual as she realized..

Is he dead...?

The next day

The patient door opens slightly as Kakucho looks at the door, confused. But it was just reader as she closes the door

"Morning" she said

"Morning.." Kakucho said with his matured voice.

Reader sits on a nearby stool next to Kakucho. As she looked at him with her eyes

"... What happened?."

Kakucho stares at her. He sighs

"Tenjiku had a gang fight with Toman yesterday at night. Kisaki shoot me in the chest. While-.."

Kakucho couldn't continue his words as he stutters a bit

"While Izana,He got shoot 3 times and..died"He said.

Reader looked at him with disbelief

"...what?.."

Reader's eyes wells up with tears as she sniffs

"N-no..why.."

Kakucho suddenly wraps one of his arm around her as he pulled her close

"I'm sorry but..I couldn't save him. You can cry on my chest."

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊**＊✿❀○❀✿＊**＊✿❀○❀✿＊

12 years later.present

Kiyomi walks around the place in Yokohama. She saw her old institution and walks in. As she looked around the snow. As it is winter.she crouches a bit and touches the snow with her hands. She suddenly heard footsteps and looks at the figure...

Kakucho?

She looks at him shocked. He fully grown his hair and saw him wearing a black coat.He was quiet infamous because of Bonten since reader always looks in the news reports.

"Kakucho?"

She said bluntly.

Kakucho looks at her and walks on the snow with his boots sounds stepping on the snow. He crouches a bit like reader as he looks at her.

"What are you doing here in this place?"

"Just wandering around to catch my nostalgic."

Kakucho takes out Izana's earring that doesn't have a pair. The earrings that Izana always wore since when he started Black Dragons's 8th generation.Kakucho smiles softly while tangling it around.

"Look what I have"

"Is that Izana's earrings?"

Reader smiled and held the earrings softly.

It still looks brand new.

As the two lay on the snow while looking at the night sky.Kakucho placed the earring in the middle of reader and himself.

"A new kingdom..huh?"

Reader acts out. A tear comes out of her eye.

"Yes.A new Kingdom" Kakucho acts out as he hums.

"Izana, Kakucho. Let's count the snowflakes again. Shall we?"

Reader smiles as Kakucho nods while looking at Izana's earrings.

"Sure"

The two of them both count the snowflakes just like how they did when they were young with Izana.As thinking that Izana will always watch them from above.

The memories of childhood and their friendship won't disappear after "he" died. But they will still be in the snowflakes up from heaven that he gave us

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊**＊✿❀○❀✿＊**＊✿❀○❀✿＊

[katedites]

The Lightning Thief musical inspired home screens! Formatted for an iPhone 6, but can easily be formatted for a different device if you send me a message with your phone type! Please like/reblog if you intend to use them!

[sylvie-writes]

Dr. Husband

word count: 5278

pairing: doctor steve rogers x wife reader

warnings: talks about heat exhaustion? there’s nothing graphic, but if the hospital theme bothers you, then this isn’t the fic to read!

prompts (from @/fluffyomlette): “Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?” and “You’re not supposed to pick favourites, doc.” “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

a/n: this just popped in my head about a month ago and i had to write it for no explainable reason. i really couldn’t think of a title oops. if you all have a better idea please tell me so i can change it lol.

please excuse any mistakes!

Summer was finally in full force, blazing sun rays beamed down on the dry ground and once gorgeous flowers drooped in dire need of water. Sounds of children playing outside, pool water splashing as a result of cannonballs, while lawnmowers whirled to life and laughter from the watching wives resounded this afternoon. In your neighborhood, it was tradition that the women would get together every other Saturday and have drinks in the cul-de-sac while their husbands had unsaid competitions of manicuring their yards. Unfortunately for you, your husband was a doctor and that meant little time for him to do the yard, and you didn’t have children at the moment that could go play with the others. The women who were your neighbors were a bit too picky choosy for your taste. They only seemed to bond over their children and sitting around home, two of which you didn’t have or do, so you weren’t ever truly invited to their day-drinking. It was actually fine with you as these people were so hot n’cold and you were just tired of trying to fit in with faux friends. You had plenty of true friends and then your husband who was a child of his own.

For three weekends so far, Steve had told you he’d cut the lawn and as much as you wanted to believe him, you knew that he was so exhausted from work and being on call a majority of the time, that he would never find the hours to do so. That was okay with you because what he did was important and you weren’t gonna be on his ass like the feds about the yard when you could easily do it yourself. It wasn’t like he was just sitting around, no, he was working so you just decided to cut the lawn yourself, something you’d done plenty of times before. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Unfortunately the day you chose to do so, the sun was out blazing and a simple walk out the door was a trip to an off-brand hell. Instead of making a wise decision and waiting to cut the grass in the evening, you chose the latter and decided to cut the grass at noon, the very time the sun was in full shine. 

Dressed in attire for yard work and having already eaten a sandwich for lunch, you headed out the garage door to tackle the mess there in hopes of finding the push mower within. Steve’s father, Joseph, had given you both a lot of his lawn equipment, but the riding mower was broken at the moment and you (again) stupidly decided to push mow the almost two acre lawn. It took a good half hour to get the darned thing out on the driveway and while doing so, you noticed that your neighbors, the wives to be exact, had decided to come out for one of their occasional and somehow spontaneous get-togethers which consisted of unattended kids drawing with chalk as their mothers sat a few feet away dipping their feet in the small splash pool. You often found the idea both inventive and funny. 

For only a second more did you let your attention linger on the group before returning back to fill the lawn mower with gasoline. After doing so, you tossed on a pair of sunglasses and went full steam ahead with cutting the grass, disregarding the rising, and very unsafe, temperature. 

About an hour in, the temp had already risen to be above 100 and something no one should have spent any longer than half an hour in. Steve had always said you were stubborn at all the wrong times and boy was he right. You had just finished up half of the front yard and quarter of the back yard. It was mad that you were actually thinking about pushing mowing two acres, especially in this unruly weather. 

You were so determined and when your mind was set on something, you let all other matters slip away, including regards for your own health. The unusual amount of sweat on your skin seemed to go unnoticed by you as well did the growing headache. 

Finally, about half an hour later, more of the backyard was finished and your inner saboteur continued to influence your goals. 

“Just finish this half and you will be close enough to the end,” translated into “Just finish the whole yard, you might as well since you are this close.” 

This was the worst mindset to have, especially with the given circumstances as you had been out here for at least two hours, no drinks of any sort, no real breaks aside from fueling the lawn mower, and no cares to the worsening symptoms that now included noticeable dizziness. 

The lawn mower eventually ran out of gas and you went to refill it once more. Making your way through the front yard, your unknown adrenaline rush came to an end along with the machine’s power. It wasn’t until your vision started to star and blur that you finally noticed your decline in health, but by then it was too late and you were on the plush and groomed grass of the front yard. Ironically, you noticed the fruits of your labor since you were currently laying on it.

Five minutes had passed since your drop to the ground and one of the ladies out in the court, Genevieve, noticed your figure, quite the contrast to the viridescent grass. Despite that she thought you were “demented” for cutting the grass yourself, she knew you weren’t unhinged, so to say, that you would just lay on the grass as it would serve no purpose to do so. She didn’t take you for a nature lover either so this was not normal. 

Genevieve squatted down in the lawn, her sparkly sandals reflecting in the sea of green. Unknowing of what to do, the woman in a panic threw the back of her hand to your forehead and you burned hotter than a metal kettle. By time she stood, the other ladies had gathered around and were now circling in mass hysteria as if they were staring at a dead body and not your unconscious, yet breathing frame. Many long seconds later, Priscilla, who was Genevieve’s closest friend and who despised you as much as you did her, decided to call 911. The other moms then left to go usher their children away from what they described as a “traumatic experience” and back to their large homes for some sort of last minute luncheon. 

Eventually, an ambulance arrived in your usually quiet neighborhood, something that was clearly displayed as almost every neighbor popped their heads out of their houses in sheer curiosity. Their nosey nature often bothered you but was normally put behind some sort of service act such as a baked cake or bottle of wine just to be invited into your house. You didn’t miss the way your neighbors would study your house when they were finally welcomed in. Steve was much better at hiding his cross nature and would return some compassion of his own while you struggled to bottle your annoyance and sealed it with a forced smile. As luck would have it though, you were knocked out and couldn’t give them a piece of your mind for staring because heavens know this would’ve been the last straw and no one could have stopped your rant. 

It was when you were in the red wagon and being attended over by paramedics that you noticed you were on the way to somewhere that wasn’t home. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

 At the hospital, the doctor and nurses hydrated you back to reality and suddenly you appeared in a bed, a doctor standing at the side with a clipboard in hand allowing your mind to draw up a million conclusions before you remembered what you had done last. 

The doctor spoke a fast introduction and he then moved on to fill you in on what had happened as confusion still painted your face although when he told you Genevieve’s account of what led up to your ultimate passing out, you visibly cringed at such carelessness that ended up bringing you here. Hundreds of falls, burns, and bruises thanks to your clumsy nature, but this had to be the one thing to send you to the hospital. Some sort of twisted joke it sure was. 

Moving to roll a stool to your bedside, the doctor passed you a cold bottle of water before bringing his eyes to give your IV a quick check as a nurse had put it in not too long before you awoke. 

“Luckily, Mrs. Rogers, your neighbors found you in time and you only experienced severe heat exhaustion. Had you prolonged your exposure anymore you could have experienced a heat stroke. For now, I ask that you rest and I’ll come back to release you.” The doctor expressed his reassurance with a kind grin before walking out of the plain and boxy room that could make one go insane with its lack of liveliness. 

Staring out the open doorway and into the empty hallway, you knew that Steve worked on this very floor, but honestly what were the chances that he’d see you? At one point he’d eventually find out about today’s mishaps, but that was a problem for later when you were more conscious and caring. Letting your worries temporarily go (something that was only happening thanks to your fatigued mind), you slightly shifted into a somewhat “comfortable” position on the stiff bed and rough cotton sheets. Albeit that there was an IV uncomfortably stuck in your arm, you fell into a much needed slumber. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Lunch break at last. 

That was all that had been on Steve's mind for the past three hours which had been extremely hectic. Granted, he was used to this fast-paced workplace having worked here for almost a decade, but today was absolutely out of control with injured patients coming in left and right. It wasn’t some sort of bad omen, rather just an unlucky day for many Steve had assumed. He had just finished up with a pediatric case and was now on his way to enjoy the leftover baked chicken salsa that you had made just for him last night and packed for his lunch this morning. You knew how busy his week had been and you took the liberty to make his favorite dinner dish to compensate for the work that had left such a toll on him. A smile immediately overtook his face when he walked in the house last night and that’s when you decided that you would gladly cook anything he’d like over and over again just to see that look of adoration. As Steve held you in his arms at that moment, he kept thinking how he really didn’t deserve you and little did he know, the same thought ran in your own mind. Yet, in reality, you both went together like a puzzle piece to a puzzle. Without the piece, the picture would never be completed and without the other, you and Steve would have never enjoyed life to the fullest. 

Strutting down the never ending hall, Steve passed many doors, some he had been in just a mere hour or two ago. As he walked past an open door and did a double take as he saw a patient asleep, but no sign of anyone else in the room. If he were that patient, he’d want the door shut for some privacy, something which the man highly valued, so he crossed the short distance and closed the door. He didn’t mean to look at the patient for so long as they weren’t in his care and that would be awfully creepy, but Steve could help but do a double take and noticed that the familiar face was, in fact, you. From first glance it didn’t even look like you and that was coming from the man who had studied your face just to commit it to his memory. In a loving way, of course. 

He slowly walked in your room, taking in the image before him of you lying in a hospital bed. His mind had assumed that the worst thing had happened to you and for a moment, Steve’s breathing ceased and his legs were glued to the ground. As his eyes scanned over your body again, his fears were calmed when there were no visible wounds and you just seemed to be resting. Although as a doctor, he unfortunately knew anything could be possible. 

Hunching over the top half of the bed, Steve smoothed your stray hairs away from your forehead and placed an awakening kiss there. You were a light sleeper a majority of the time and your spouse knew that this small action would wake, but not startle you. Every night he’d come home from work and do the same thing except then he knew you were safe and sound. Now, he was just filled with uncertainty. 

“What happened?” Those were the only words he was able to get out and you gave him an answer, just not one that he was looking for. You were already getting defensive and he could sense it.

“Genevieve saw me pass out in the yard and overreacted, Steven. You know they all don’t exactly have good track records with medicine.” You rolled your eyes at the last statement remembering how your neighbors have often nonchalantly tried to get Steve to diagnose them when it came to something as simple as a scrape. Then again, all of your neighbors were in the business industry so that explained their lack of medical knowledge or at least that is the excuse you drew up for them. 

“Nice try, (y/n), but you do have a medical chart and it’s over there,” Steve pointed over his shoulder and towards the doorway where a plastic chart holder sat mounted on the cream wall. “You didn’t just pass out, and the neighbors did not overreact. They did the right thing despite how much I know you hate that. Now, either you tell me the truth or I go read that file.” His tone was serious, but not condescending. Hidden in his eyes was a tad sprinkle of mischief.

Stubborn as ever, you didn’t respond and folded your arms over your chest in a form of defiance. 

Against what is probably legal, Steve picked up your medical chart to read what had happened as you wouldn’t disclose the information to him. Your husband was a worry-wart sometimes and while you appreciated how he doctored you when you were sick, he could be a bit overbearing. A great example would be the time when you were cooking dinner and burned your forearm when taking the casserole out of the oven. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

“Babe, dinner is ready!” 

The timer on the oven was currently beeping and you walked towards it. Turning off both the oven and the timer, you grabbed a short oven mitt and reached in to grab the casserole dish off the top rack. As you did so, you lifted your arm a bit too high and hit the side of your forearm on the interior roof of the oven. The temperature was ridiculously hot and the pain was immensely strong that you immediately pulled your arm back, the casserole long forgotten. 

Steve came running in at your string of curses and came in to see you holding your arm and hissing a bit as if that would relieve the pain. He walked closer to you as you leaned up against the island. Your husband delicately took your arm in his hand, raking his eyes over the burn that was soon to blister. 

After a short inspection, Steve placed his other hand on the small over your back and led you to the sink, flipping on the cold water and running it over your burn. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see you squeezing your own eyes shut in pain. 

“I know, sweetheart, it hurts, I’m sorry.” He continued to rinse your scalded skin, but turned his head to sweetly kiss your temple. 

A few minutes passed and Steve was content with the rinse job as you had finally opened your eyes, even engaging in some of your jokes that were always said at the wrong time. From the kitchen, the man guided you down the hallway, through your bedroom and into your joined bathroom. He sat you on the edge of the bathroom tub while rummaging through your unorganized medicine cabinet. It was barely ever touched and when it was, it was often in a state of panic hence the messiness of it. Fortunately, Steve found a tube of bacitracin and some cotton dressings from God knows how long ago. At this point he could care less and would rather have you cared for. 

You curiously watched him as he dug through the cabinet and a loving smile grew on your face. How lucky were you to have this man. You were really appreciative of him in times like these especially. 

Said man returned and crouched before you, distracting you from your thoughts as he softly grabbed your hand once more. 

The doctor worked his magic and in no time was your arm wrapped up and lathered in ointment.

“Wow Doc, you did a great job.” Steve was still holding your hand as you quietly giggled in content. He placed a kiss on top of your knuckles and peered up at you with those gorgeous (and borderline seductive) sapphire eyes. Chuckling, Steve murmured against your skin, “Only for my favorite patient.” 

As always, you decided to play along with Steve’s playful banter. “You’re not supposed to pick favorites, doc.” 

Your husband knew your clumsy nature and seemed to have the perfect response, “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

With your non-injured hand you went to hit his shoulder and he grabbed it in faux hurt. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

“You know, Dr. Rogers, that is a violation and I can actually report you for it.” You lifted your line of sight to see Steve who looked back at you with his lips pressed in a fine line. He shook his head disapprovingly after reaching the end of the report and now looked like he was going to sit back in the seat beside your bed. 

“Hey, what are you doing? They already examined me and I am about to get released.” The man ignored you and instead leaned over the flimsy bed railing. Steve rubbed his hands together in a warming manner before placing two fingers on your next in an attempt to find your pulse. He unfortunately carried that common trait among doctors of having hands that were colder than that of a penguin’s ass. You knew very well this pulse check was useless as you were in conditional health and that he was probably doing this to annoy you. 

“Well I like to do a check of my own. It never hurts to get a second opinion, darling.” Blue eyes squinted at you and you returned the patronizing gesture. 

The free hand that was not on your neck had found its way to hold your own hand and when your husband pulled back, he wore a smug smirk on his lips. 

“Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?” 

“You know, your shoulders must hurt from carrying such a big head all the time.” Steve had the nerve to laugh at your elementary grade insult and even though you weren’t really mad, your face would have said otherwise to anyone else. 

“So I’ll take that as a yes then, wifey.” He then quickly dropped to press a chaste kiss to your lips before releasing your hand and sitting down in the chair. 

Looking to the clock on the wall, you focused your vision on the distant numbers to read that it was most likely Steve’s lunch break.

“Are you spending your lunch break with me?” Your tone was now sweet and soft as it usually was towards Steve and his heart leaped at the progress being made. 

“It seems that I am. ‘Was really looking forward to that chicken salsa, though.” A heap of blonde hair rested on your hand that Steve had now laid his head against, still holding tight with both of his own hands. You giggled at his dramatics and ruffled a free hand through his greasy hair. 

“I haven’t eaten anything, you think you could spend your lunch break with me?” His head popped up at this and his face held the eagerness of an energetic puppy. 

“Of course, sweetheart. We can head to the cafeteria. Hopefully they have something good for my girl.” It was now your turn for your heart to swell at his words. Not even a second later though, the sentimental moment was replaced with Steve’s usual sarcastic humor. 

“See, I love you so much that I am willing to sacrifice my precious chicken salsa just to have lunch with you. You should be grateful to have me as your husband.” Steve’s pearly whites beamed at you in a cheesy smile and you gave a dismissive wave of your hand. 

The two of you talked and enjoyed the rare time together for the next ten minutes until Steve noticed you shifting to sit up against the pillows. He thought nothing of it until suddenly you were throwing your legs over the side of the bed and making to get out of the so called cotton prison. 

Waving a finger, Steve tutted you and hurriedly scooped your legs back onto the bed. You looked absolutely peeved and Steve knew it was from the way that he was treating you like a child or better yet, a patient. His wife, the fighter and he, the doctor. Two unlikely personalities but ones that worked best together nonetheless. This made Steve laugh whenever he thought about it.

“You can get up the minute you get released by the doc, okay?” Caring eyes now gave you a pleading look and you felt a small tinge of guilt crawling up your chest at how mean you had been to your husband when he has only been trying to help. 

A knock on the wooden door signaled a visit from the one person you had been waiting on for what seemed to be ages. 

“Speak of the devil.” Muttering the phrase so only Steve could hear you gave him an “I told you so” kind of look. 

The Doctor looked up from the same clipboard as earlier to greet you once he made it in through the doorway, but he was surely surprised by the figure sitting in the chair beside you. 

“Oh Dr. Rogers, what a surprise! So this is your wife I presume? I guess I should have put two and two together,” Your doctor of the moment laughed with Steve who added in a chuckle or two of his own. 

“Yep, this is Mrs. Rogers!” Steve didn’t look at you, but lovingly squeezed your hand that was resting against his, “We are quite the handful so I am surprised you couldn’t tell that she was my other half.” A snicker ended his words and you couldn’t help but do the same. 

Once the short introductions were over, the doctor walked over to do a speedy final exam on what was necessary as Steve watched from the sidelines still getting used to the idea of not being the one doing the examination. He hadn’t been in any other position in the hospital for such a long time that it took some time to get used to the fact that he wasn’t the one diagnosing and rather waiting for the diagnosis. 

The doctor pulled away from hovering over you and now sat back on his rolling leather stool, scooting his way over to the computer and desk. 

“Well I must say, (y/n), that you definitely live up to some of the stories your husband tells.” The other man in the white coat finished up his typing before turning back around to face you and his colleague. 

“Ah, I hope he’s giving me some good street cred,” You teased and from the side you saw Steve shaking his head and chuckling under his breath. 

“I assure you that they were all good things.” With that, the doctor formally released you, walking out of the room to give you some time to redress and such.

You went to get out of the bed for the nth time, but finally succeeded. Your legs felt a bit wobbly upon the first step, and Steve noticed this. He came up to stand beside you and placed a hand on your lower back with the other out in front in case you did fall. Placing your own hand on his scrub clad chest to steady yourself, you silently thanked him with a tender pat. 

With Steve’s guidance, you went to change out of the wretched paper gown and into your shorts and shirt from working outside. It wasn’t exactly the most flattering outfit but at this moment you could care less for the only thing on your mind was getting out of this room.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The ride in the elevator seemed to move slower than a snail and almost stopped on every floor. You were so crammed by the time you were only on the fifth floor that you used this as an excuse to lean up against Steve. He rubbed your arm and enveloped you in a side hug and planted a kiss on your head. The two of you never cared for PDA but neither of you had realized the onlooking eyes. 

You found it mildly comedic when some of your fellow passengers seemed disgusted that a doctor was handling a patient in such a way. It was definitely gonna be a joke for later on. 

Eventually you made it to the first floor and begrudgingly pushed yourself out of Steve’s warm embrace when the smell of garlic bread hit your nose. 

“Huh, they never cook spaghetti around here. They must know we have a special guest today.” Steve pressed his lips against your ear to jokingly whisper to you as he ushered you out the elevator doors. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Standing in line with a plastic tray at the cafeteria made you have flashbacks to middle school lunch and you shuddered at the thought. The memories played back in your mind like a movie and were interrupted (much to your relief) when Steve tapped your shoulder.

“You want this?” Steve held one of the plastic salad containers in hand, the white sleeve of his lab coat draped on top of the other stacked bowls in the open air freezer. 

You nodded and he placed it on your tray, slightly bumping your hips as he walked past to grab a drink.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

For a good twenty minutes, you and Steve sat in comfortable silence in one of the booths until clicking clogs came closer and closer. So close that a shadow loomed over your table conveying that someone was here to speak. 

“Dr. Rogers, I don’t think it’s entirely wise of you to have lunch with your patient. Actually, it’s quite inappropriate.” The older woman in burgundy scrubs pointed her gaze to the hospital band on your wrist and both you and Steve started laughing upon noticing. So that explained all the weird looks.

“Oh no, Dr. Williams! This is my wife (y/n),” You politely beamed up at the woman and set out your hand for a handshake. At this, her unenthusiastic expression changed to one of apologetic and she shook your hand with much grief as Steve continued on with his introductions. 

“(y/n), this is Dr. Williams. She is the medical director for my department.” 

“Wow! I’ve heard many wonderful things about you, Dr. Williams.” She went to return the praise before a beeping in her coat pocket signaled the time for her departure. 

“Duty calls, but I’ll have you know this one here never shuts up about you. It was nice to finally put a face to a name, (y/n),” You glanced at Steve and noticed he was sheepishly grinning and turning redder by the second. So much so that he was hiding his face in his palms.

““I hope you have a quick recovery as well, hon!” The standing woman gave you a nod of her head and then turned to your husband whose face had finally regained its color. “As for you Steven, I will see you later. You have another resident to deal with today.” Dr. Williams sighed at the thought, waving you both goodbye and soon enough she was out the double doors of the lunch room. 

“Ooh babe you’ll have to tell me how all of that goes.” Spooning some spaghetti into your mouth, you goofily raised your eyebrows at Steve. 

“Trust me, it is not fun at all. When I was a resident, I would have never acted like some of the people I’ve trained!” 

You snorted, “Uh huh. Sureee.” 

“No really,” Steve’s eyes widened and he leaned over the table like he was sharing some sort of secret with you, “The audacity of some of these people.” 

“I think you are just an old man now, Stevie, and can’t keep up with the times.” The blond screwed up his eyes and stuck his tongue out at you. 

“Oh hush and finish your food, Miss. ‘I am soooo young’.” A napkin flew at Steve’s chest and the two of you laughed at the childish antics that had just ensued. 

Just as both of your styrofoam containers became empty, an unpleasant ringer sounded in Steve’s pocket, just like the one of Dr. Williams’s departure. Once he gave the screen a swift peek, he looked back up at you with a long face. 

“You gotta go?” Golden strands bobbed up and down as Steve nodded and you grabbed his hand. 

“It’s alright! Thank you for spending the time with me today, though. I really appreciate it. Thanks for putting up with me, you know how I am sometimes.”  

The larger hand encompassing yours gave a sympathetic squeeze. 

“Oh darling, anytime, you know that. If you need anything, call me okay? I will try my best to answer.” 

The temporary silence that filled the room was now replaced by annoying buzzing from the device that Steve had silenced for the moment. He irritability took it out and shoved it back in his pocket. Normally this didn’t bother Steve because this was his job, but since you were here, having just been sick, he wanted nothing more than to drop everything and focus on you. Knowing that was impossible, he tried his best to juggle both yet it seemed that the world wasn’t gonna wait on him. 

“Do you want me to call Ma to come get you? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Her and Dad love your company.” For the moment, Steve appeared to look like he was ignoring the constant beeping, but you knew internally he was already out of the cafeteria and sprinting down the halls.

“No no, I’m fine, honey,” The doctor stared at you as if he didn’t believe you. “I mean it, Steve. I am fine. Now shoo.” 

Dr. Rogers shared another laugh with you before pecking your lips and running out the room shouting, “I’ll see you later!” 

He really was too good for this world. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

a/n: i really enjoyed writing for doctor!steve, so if anyone has any ideas that involves him and that you’d like me to write, send it in! <3

taglist (is open!): @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight @patzammit @iwik3it

[keigelsss]

Hard At Work - Kuroo Tetsuro

a/n: HERE IT IS!!!!! it’s really bad. i struggled. i just wanted to get it over with but this idea weighed heavily on my mind for so long and i cant seem to get it out the way i want so this is the bare minimum with what i was trying to go for sorry :/

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, timeskip!kuroo, dom!kuroo, language, teasing, literally half the fic is foreplay oops, smut, oral sex, unprotected sex (no glove no love y’all), kuroo smacks your ass once, sir kink?, SIZE KINK, belly bulge, overstim, squirting, creampie, as always my shitty writing. *thoughts in italics… if i forgot a warning pls lmk*

Summary: you never thought you’d find yourself in this situation, let alone with the man in charge of your paycheck. luckily those files weren’t that important.

word count: 4.7K

You’ve only been working in this position for about two months now, assistant to one of the smartest sports promoters in the country. It’s a wonderful job and you get to meet star athletes almost every day, but what wasn't in the job description was the super hot promoter that you would be working under literally. If you thought it was hard coming into work with someone so damn attractive, the amount of teasing that went on in and outside of the office was insufferable.

Your day began like every other; come in, bring Kuroo some coffee, a full list of the day's meetings and tidy up in his office. While setting the coffee on his desk, you anticipate what comment he’ll make about the lack of a baked good to accompany his beverage.

“Awe Y/n, looks like you forgot to bring something to munch on again,” he was currently going through emails while twirling a pen in his hand. That scheming smirk that you’ve come to recognize all too well plastered all over his smug face. 

“I’m sorry, Kuroo, they were all out at the café.” You placed your belongings on the small desk located in the corner of his office, spending some time to go over today's schedule as well as sort through a few contracts and client files.

“It’s all good,” he let out a soft chuckle. “You could always let me eat you instead, shortcake.”

You gave a pointed glare to the man before sighing and closing the file cabinet you just finished sorting. “I think it’s best if we get to work, we’ve got a long day ahead of us, sir.” he sends the smallest smirk in your direction then returns to his tasks. Shit... Did I mean to make it come out like that? Whatever he always teases the ever-living hell out of me so it's about time I had my share of the fun too, it’s only fair. Right?

Most of the day was uneventful, the typical routine coming and going without any interruptions. At around 4 pm though, you found yourself swamped with far more paperwork to go through than usual as well as having to scan and digitally file. We didn't have this many meetings today, did we? I just did a stack like this… Most of these need Kuroo’s signature, they shouldn't be on my desk.

Raising your head you shifted your gaze, letting your eyes land on him. He’s seated only ten feet in front of you behind his desk but today it seems like an entire mile. Did he always look that good going through his messages?

While gathering the papers that were wrongfully in your pile and saying a quick prayer to anyone out there, you walked over to sit in one of the matching seats opposite him. Placing the folder down softly to not mess up the flow of his work. He instinctively moves his elbow away to make room for the file and side-eyes it momentarily.

“Just give me two minutes here and I’m all yours sugar,” he says with a quick smile in your direction.

Humming your response and relaxing into the chair you take the time to admire his features. The messy but somehow put together hair that, according to his long-term clients and friends, has been that way since childhood. The sharp features of his cheeks and jaw, his pink lips permanently resting in his signature smirk that can mean an infinite number of things as you’ve come to find out. A muscular neck that is far too appealing for your taste, broad shoulders leading to strong arms, and an equally muscular chest. It’s no doubt that he is built like a god under that dress shirt, it fits him so perfectly it's almost offensive.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts of the man in front of you that you don't even notice how he moves his body, giving all his attention to you.

“Stare any longer sweet girl and you're gonna start drooling all over that cute outfit of yours.” His deep chuckle vibrates through you, definitely causing something to happen deep in the pit of your stomach. Your body was so hot and your throat was so damn dry from the way he was looking back at you. Is he undressing me with his eyes? Fuck! I’m one to talk, I’m doing the same thing.

“Uh it looks like some papers of yours got in my pile, if you can sign them, I’ll finish scanning and get out of your hair.” 

You sat up to hand him a pen then rest your palms against the desk. Those pieces of paper are the only thing separating the two of you and it helps you keep a grasp on reality for the time being.

He toyed with the edges of the folder, lifting just the corner, not even bothering to read over the contents. “Yeah, I put them there thinking it would keep you in the office just a bit longer but you caught on to my plan faster than I thought.” He met your gaze with a semi defeated smile.

“You thought I wouldn't notice at all? Kuroo, I thought you were supposed to be the mega genius here because I had just filed all of those this morning.” A sudden boost of confidence ran through your body and your hands found their way to the folder and started mimicking his previous action that, hopefully, would drive him just as crazy as it did you. Your cold fingers delicately traced above his watch then to his forearms, stopping right where he cuffed his sleeves. A small hiss escaped him through his teeth followed by an airy laugh.

“Call it an experiment.” You couldn't help but giggle at his response.

He suddenly moved back, completely reclining and relaxing in his chair. He went to loosen up the tie around his neck and even went as far as to open two buttons on the restricting shirt. Cheeky bastard.

Kuroo cleared his throat. Resting his elbow against the arm of his chair, chin resting in the palm of his hand. “I bet I can tell what you're thinking right now, shortcake,” he continued to roll his chair back slightly.

Without giving a second thought you moved around to his side of the desk, sitting and leaning on the end farthest from him. You conjured up the best comeback your normally shy and reserved self would never think of, but right now, it's war.

“Oya oya? Tell me, boss, what am I thinking right now?” you finally turned your gaze towards him, pulling off the most convincing innocent eyes you had.

He stood up from his seat, taking the slowest steps toward you and stood right beside your small body. His large hands are dangerously close to the edge of your skirt. If he could feel how hard your heart was beating in your chest you’d be done for. 

That contagious laughter of his booming throughout the room once more. He’ll never admit it but your teasing words sound a lot like him.

“Well if the way you're clenching the hell out of your thighs right now isn't the biggest sign.” His calloused fingers finally make contact with the exposed skin on your legs and slowly rise to trace the curves of your body. Finding a place to rest on your jaw with his thumb gripping your chin forcing you to look directly at him. “I’d say you're thinking of all the different ways I could make you cum on my desk,” his thumb began to slowly trace your lower lip.

You were barely aware of the small moan you let out while fluttering your eyes closed. “Let's say you're right Kuroo,” you nearly choked on the lack of saliva in your throat. “What else am I thinking?” your response barely above a pathetic whimper.

He let out a happy sigh as he placed his thumb between your lips, pressing slightly to signal you to open up. That sigh quickly turned into a small moan when you let your tongue slip from your mouth and wrapped your lips around the digit. Years of hard work and skill evident in the sensation of his thumb pressing against your tongue.

“You’re probably thinking about my cock filling every inch of your tight little pussy,” he moved to stand between your legs, his other hand finding residence on your hip and squeezing the clothed flesh possessively. “Or maybe you’re thinking you might just have the upper hand here because you caught on to my little trick,” he began to mess with the hook and zipper on the side of your skirt. Lowering the piece of flimsy metal agonizingly slow. 

“If that’s the case then you're seriously mistaken sweetheart also when it's just us, call me Tetsuro,” he whispered his name in your ear and if you weren't trying to match his teasing energy, you would’ve made the first move but the build-up was so much better.

He finally let go of the zipper on your skirt and began to pull it slowly down your thighs, all while maintaining eye contact. He slowly removed his finger from your mouth and trailed any lingering saliva along your bottom lip and down your jaw before his hand found comfort around your neck, offering the softest squeeze, eliciting yet another breathy moan from your lips. If only you knew how much those sounds of yours were causing him to short circuit.

“Tetsuro. If there’s anything I know very well, it's my place in this office.” You kept steady eye contact while attempting to squeeze your thighs together. 

Kuroo noticed your struggles and continued to strip the skirt from your body. Your lower half was beginning to burn with anticipation. His long fingers then traced the outline of your panties, if he looked any closer he would see the little wet spot forming right at your entrance. He lightly pulled on the thin material and snapped it back against your body, a small chuckle rising from deep in his chest because of how cute and responsive you are to his actions.

“And where is that exactly?” He can't help but tease you, even though his cock is absolutely suffocating, he still wants to make sure you know who’s in charge. 

“I'm an employee on your payroll, aren't I?” your voice was so soft, focusing more on steadying your breathing. He began to run the back of his hand along your hip and grazed his knuckles against the area that you ache for him the most, a throaty sigh escapes you and some of that newfound confidence as well. Where the hell did she come from?

“It only makes sense that my position is under you.” Kuroo is slightly surprised by your response but he can tell that you’ve had enough of his teasing just like he’s had enough of having to come up with new ways to fluster you. Now it seems that all his prayers are being answered, he finally has you to himself all alone in the office, and there’s only one thing on his mind after hearing the words slip from your lips. “That’s definitely the right answer, but I hope you don’t mind if I spend some time on you first?”

His fingers were now pulling the fabric of your panties down and off your body, he never breaks eye contact, rubbing his hands all over your legs and occasionally squeezing your soft skin. He finally returned to eye level and placed both hands on your cheeks, bringing you in for a hot and desperate kiss. He managed to push you further onto the desk so you can rest comfortably, the cold sensation of the wood on your bare skin forced a tiny gasp to escape. 

Kuroo began to play with the buttons of your blouse, pulling on the material. By the time he gets to the last button, you’re halfway done removing his, finally seeing the strong body underneath it all. Hot. Once he had you completely undressed he took a single step back. Biting his lip and admiring your body.

“You’re so god damn sexy.” He came back to you, hot mouth leaving kisses all over your neck and chest. He spent some time on each of your breasts, sucking and biting on your sensitive nipples, sending waves of pleasure straight to your core. His hands hooked under your knees and spread your legs. You're practically dripping onto his desk by now and can’t help but grind your hips against nothing, desperate for some sort of relief. 

“Someone's a little needy, huh?” his breath was hot against your stomach and fingers digging into the meat of your thigh. Once he got on his knees in front of you, his fingers found their way to your throbbing center. Slowly parting your folds and massaging your sensitive hole with perfect pressure. “Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ wet too,” with his other hand he used his thumb to play with your clit. You threw your head back, letting out a soft moan as you made contact with the desk below.

Kuroo wasted no time putting your legs over his shoulders, leaving wet kisses along your thighs and placing several on your hips. He finally placed a kiss on your clit, causing you to yelp and buck your hips against his face. “You taste better than I imagined baby girl,” he licked a stripe through your folds, then sucked on your clit softly. “Mmm it feels so good!” you’re a moaning, whimpering mess already. Kuroo has to use his hands to keep you still but he’s humming happily while lapping up all you have to offer him and you can't help but shake. “Am I making you feel good, pretty girl? Your cute little pussy is so sensitive huh?” his tongue was replaced with one of his fingers gathering up your slick and slowly entering you.

“Yes yes fuck I love it. I want your cock. Please.” you looked at him through lidded eyes sucking your bottom lip harshly in between your teeth. He can't help but smile at how cute you look begging for him. “Relax baby girl, we’ll both get what we want but I gotta work you up a bit more.” He added another finger curling them a little to find your sweet spot, while sucking on your clit. He knew he found it when you squeezed your thighs around him and called out his name. Your walls twitching around his fingers, reaching your first climax of the day. 

He pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, sucking off every bit of your juices, moaning in sheer delight. Another kiss was placed on your clit before he began a trail of them to your neck and jaw, teeth sinking into your skin. One of his hands caressed your cheek as he kissed you on the lips, your taste and his hot breath sending another wave of arousal through you and you moan into his mouth. He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. “Wanna make you cum with my tongue one more time okay sweetheart?”

You wanted to whine and throw a fit but his mouth was magical and you weren't one to complain. With a small ‘okay’ and another kiss on the lips he made his way to your pussy once more, already swollen and ridiculously sensitive. He began with the same rhythm as before, soft groans of satisfaction driving you wild. The grinding of your hips against his face only became more violent when he added his long fingers. Finding that same spot as earlier. 

“F-fuck oh fuck I’m gonna cum!” you arched your back off the desk and brought a hand to your chest massaging squeezing your nipples. The only thing you hear before your orgasm rips through you is the loud squelching of fingers inside your pussy and his moans of praise. When you open your eyes and finally come back to earth, you see Kuroos face, hand and wrist covered in your juices. “I haven't even fucked you yet and you squirted just like that? You're gonna be the death of me Y/n.” 

You giggled a little, hiding your face in embarrassment, body still trembling from the intense orgasm. Of course that smart mouth of his is sinfully skilled. He moved your hands out of the way, intertwining his with yours, lifting you and pulling you into another kiss. 

You let go of his hands running yours along his toned chest, leaving small scratches, quickly removing his belt and slacks. You squeal at how big he looks in his boxers, his cock begging to be free. Pulling the waistband down and letting it drop to his feet, you moan at the sight. A small bead of precum forming at the tip, now an angry red from being neglected for so long. “I wanna make you feel good too Tetsu.” 

Before you can drop to your knees for him he puts his hands on your hips, rubbing soothing circles. “Next time gorgeous, I wanna feel you right now.” he lifted you off the ground, legs wrapping around his waist and lips meeting in a sloppy mess of teeth and tongue. One of his hands made their way to your ass, squeezing softly before landing a smack. You moaned in response and ground your hips against his throbbing member, the tip creating glorious friction against your folds. He finally placed you back on the desk then fisted his cock a few times, running the tip against your folds and teasing your entrance.

“Want you inside me now Tetsuro. Please.” your chest was heaving in desperation and he loved that he made you like this. “Okay sweet girl. If it’s too much let me know.” You gave him a small nod and he kissed you while letting himself slip inside your warm walls. You were already so wet from before but he was so long and thick that the intrusion was slightly painful. 

“Holy shit! you’re so damn tight.” he says through gritted teeth. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers tugging softly on his hair when you feel him bottom out inside you. He lets out a few puffs of air because it's taking all his willpower not to cum with the way your pussy is gripping onto him right now. You let out a few whimpers and he checks your face for any signs of discomfort before retracting his hips and thrusting into you. You make eye contact with him, he’s absolutely mesmerizing with that lusty look in his eye and a small layer of sweat on his forehead. 

“S-so big Tetsu. It feels so good.” you squeeze your legs wrapped around his waist, bringing him closer to you and he groans in response. He begins to thrust into you slowly, still trying to keep his cool but finding that sweet spot inside you every time. “Oh you're gonna make me cum with the way you are clampin’ down on my cock like that sweet thing.” he shifts the angle of his thrusts and cages your head between his arms. His large upper body casting a shadow over you that makes you shiver. You can see the way the muscles on his forearms and biceps are flexing with every thrust. How he’s looking down at where you two are connected in pure fascination, tugging his lip between his teeth.

Using his arms to push off the desk, he tugs your hips to the edge and keeps his fingers embedded in the soft flesh, meeting each of his thrusts. You lift yourself as well, resting on your elbows and watching him. You notice a small bump on your belly each time his hips meet yours and it's enough to have you roll your eyes back. Holy fuck now that’s different. Kuroo noticed your surprise and pressed a hand against your tummy, making you feel him even deeper if possible. 

“I’m right there baby girl. Can you feel it?” You feel as though you're being split open but it hurts so good. His stare and dominating aura so sinful and addictive, you know you're in trouble. “Yes it feels so good. I love your cock.” He feels you fluttering around him and picks up his pace. The sharp sound of skin slapping echoes throughout the office along with his animalistic growls. 

“Is that right. You gonna cum on this cock, like a good girl?” his thumb found your clit, working small circles. “Make a mess all over my desk? Let me cum inside this tight pussy?” his thrusts were reaching deep, that bulge in your tummy only looking bigger now. You tried meeting his thrusts halfway, your hand gripped his wrist and you neared another orgasm. “Y-yeah, oh fuck. please. I wanna cum so bad. wanna make you feel good too, sir.” 

At the last word you said he thrusted into you once more. your walls fluttering around him bringing his release as well, he hunched over with a groan and found your lips as he spilled his seed inside you. The warmth filling you up and making you feel nothing but bliss. Your ankles locked around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, keeping him buried inside you while you caught your breath’s. 

He pulled away first, watching as his cock slipped from your tight hole, both of you letting out a sharp breath from the sensitivity. His cum followed right after, dripping down onto his desk. The sight of your clenching pussy and the mess was enough to get him hard again. He wants as much as you’re willing to give him. Lifting your upper body he pulls you in for another kiss, this one a bit sweeter. 

You pulled away and began kissing his jaw. “I want more.” You said looking up at him with bright eyes. Your makeup is messy but you still look delicious as ever. 

He gave you a playful grin and a peck on the lips. “You read my mind gorgeous.” 

He spun you around and bent you over the desk, pressing your body into the wood but not enough to hurt. His fingers slowly ran down your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You turn your head slightly so you can see him, right now he looks intimidating as ever. Large muscular body towering over you, one hand gripping your ass and the other teasing the head of his cock along your folds. He can see how your dripping hole is clenching around nothing, your frame trembling from previous orgasms. He's so damn overjoyed that he slips right inside you, not wanting to waste another second outside of your tight pussy. 

The stretch that he provided was nothing you've felt before, he was definitely the biggest you’ve been with. You felt every ridge and vein, every twitch, you still feel him in your stomach. Nothing beat how warm he is though, flooding every nerve with heat and electricity. 

He set a brutal pace, balls slapping against your clit each time, making you cry out and moan incoherent versions of his name. His left hand gripped your thigh and hitched your leg on the desk, the shift in position causing him to drag the tip of his cock perfectly against your g-spot. “Right there Tetsuro, feels so fucking good.” you ached your back in ecstasy. 

The hand he had hooked under your knee creeped up your thigh and rested on your hip. He used the other to raise you off the desk and wrap around you. His warm hard chest pressing into your back and his large, rough palms massaged your tits. You can feel his warm breath on your ear and you shiver when he groans. The deep rumble of his chest crashing into you like a wave. 

Hearing his moans right in your ear was like heaven, the feeling of his cock twitching inside tells you he's close. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum so fuckin’ hard. Your little cunt’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. You gonna be a good girl and let me cum inside again?” his rough pounding turned into slow, deep strokes. Slamming into your sweet spot with pin-point accuracy.

“Please. Feels so good and I want your cum. Want it in me so bad.” his hand moved to your jaw turning your head, squishing your cheeks and leaving a sloppy kiss against your lips. You brought your arm up, grabbing his face, pulling him closer. You sucked his bottom lip between your teeth and he growled in response, slow thrusts gaining some more speed.

The hand he had on your hip made its way in front of you, fingers trailing softly against your swollen clit. Tears were pricking the corners of your eyes from overstimulation but you loved every second of it. “I want you to milk my cock, take all your filling like a good little shortcake and make a mess on this desk. Can you do that for me?” you only nod and moan your answer.

The intense eye contact between the two of you, mixed with his hard thrusts and rough fingers, make that tingling feeling in your core seem like the first one all over again. Your head falls back against his chest as your body locks up and shakes uncontrollably, the tight fluttering of your walls brought his release as well. 

You can feel his warm load inside as he keeps fucking into you, allowing you both to ride out the intense wave of pleasure. All while massaging your clit, only bringing on another orgasm, making you squirt once more on his hand and desk. Feeling it drip down your legs, surely his too. 

Once the rush of euphoria passed, you both fell forward, his cock still inside you as you both caught your breath. You were still quivering with aftershocks of pleasure when he slipped out of you, a mixture of both of your cum spilling onto the floor and down your thighs. 

He stumbled back onto his chair and took a deep breath. Hypnotized by the way you’re still spread out for him to see, the beautiful sight of your plump ass becoming something he wants all the time. You finally sit up slowly turning to lean against the desk, legs feeling like noodles. Both of you catching the other staring and letting out a fit of laughter. He reached for your hand and pulled you down on the chair with him to relax, wrapping his strong arms around you. 

“So, I was thinking, maybe I should give you a promotion.” he kissed the top of your head and you pinched his nipple teasingly. “Stop fucking around Tetsu.” he smirked and gave you a knowing smirk. 

“We just did, sweet heart.” you rolled your eyes and nuzzled into his neck. 

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

After resting for a while the two of you got cleaned up and dressed, tidying up the office so it didn't look like two people just fucked in it. Once you were done you both stood and looked out the window of his office, watching the sun disappear and the stars start to shine. He made a sound like he just remembered something. 

“Do you wanna go out to get something to eat?” he looks at you while putting his coat on.

“I’d love to, I’m starving,” you grabbed your purse and put on your coat as well. “Oh, uh what time is it?” you ask him. 

He lifted the sleeve of his jacket, looking at his watch and raising a brow. “That’s weird. My watch is stuck at 4:45.” you look at him in confusion. 

A sudden burst of wheezing laughter echoes through the walls and you’re still wondering what’s so funny. He turns to you and looks at your face, melting at how cute and innocent you looked. 

“I think you ruined my watch, Y/n.” he brings a hand up to your face moving a piece of hair that was out of place. You can't help but blush at his words, instantly turning away from him and opening the doors to his office.

“Well we’re even now because you ruined any other man for me.” You walked ahead of him in annoyance but he knows it won't last long.

He’ll have you screaming his name again in his bed in no time. 

I wonder if he was joking about that promotion though…

———————————————————————

✨stay sexy my friends✨

Taglist: @bobabybo

a/n: if you made it this far... yooo... im so sorry you had to read this. it didn’t tickle the brain the way i wanted and i trashed it like ten times only to go back with what i originally started with but if you liked it and you feel a lil sum ;) lmk i would love feedback or what I could’ve done better. i don’t know what I want to do with this blog just yet but for now its just my thirsts and writings. i reply and like on @keigohoes im just stupid lol.

[hermannsthumb]

Town council Hermann vs Alien Conspiracy Newt please!!!

THIS WAS FUN!!! inspired both by this tweet and conversations abt a newt/herm AU of that tweet with @k-sci-janitor (who also thought of the funniest sign newt made in this fic, aka the cheekbones one, and what his tats should look like). this is long sorry :/ gets a little spicy towards the end but nothing worse than a high pg13/light M

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The evening of the weekly town council meeting, it pours like nothing else. Which Hermann figures is really quite appropriate. Loathe as he is to soak his trouser legs, trudge through the mud that used to be his front walk, and hold his umbrella for so long his arm aches (for the community center is a mere half-mile walk away that Hermann can't justify substituting with a bus), he can't imagine council meetings happening in any other sort of weather. In fact, they rarely tend to; their dreariness seems to be a necessity, part of the preparation, as if to put everyone in as miserable a mood as possible.

Hermann hates council meetings. He supposes he'd be more sympathetic towards the plights of his constituents—if one can call one's neighbors constituents—if he'd wanted the damned job in the first place. As it is, he feels a bit like he was conned into it. Hermann had been a lowly physics professor at the local community college, passionate about public education and funding for public education and all those proper sorts of things an educator ought to be concerned about, when he suddenly found himself seized with the idea of making a difference. So he ran for a head position on the council. And he won it. Only no one told him that the council deals a lot less with public education and a lot more with noise complaints, cul-de-sac bake sales, and raccoons in dustbins, which makes why he ran completely unopposed all the more obvious.

A fat raindrop explodes against the edge of Hermann's umbrella and splashes his glasses. Hermann grits his teeth and wipes them dry with the cuff of his sweater. Bloody meeting; bloody rain; Hermann just wants to go back home, and fix up a nice pot of herbal tea, and set a blanket in the dryer for ten minutes, and...

"Dr. Gottlieb! Hey, Dr. Gottlieb, wait—!"

A blur in an oversized yellow raincoat hurdles itself at Hermann from the stairs of the community center. Hermann considers pretending he is a different Dr. Gottlieb, one who certainly has no reason to know maniacs in raincoats, or maybe high-tailing it in the other direction. This is the other reason why Hermann loathes council meetings: Newton Geiszler.

The unfortunate thing is that Newton Geiszler was, at one point, a respectable academic type, and in fact one of Hermann's own colleagues at the community college. (Hermann only found this out after the fact—he does not make a habit of intermingling much with the biology department.) And Hermann does mean was. Around a year ago, Geiszler was asked to temporarily step down from his position after he suddenly and unexpectedly went off the deep end. He has not been asked to come back yet. And not without reason. "Dr. Geiszler," Hermann sighs. "I've asked you not to lurk about here like that. It's...unsettling."

"Sorry, man, sorry," Geiszler shouts. He stomps over and makes himself at home under Hermann's umbrella. Hermann's not sure how he's been managing to see anything, let alone Hermann approaching down the sidewalk: his glasses are completely fogged-up and rain-splattered. "Do you mind if—thanks, dude."

Geiszler flips his hood down. He’s short, only coming up to Hermann's nose, with stubble nearly overgrown to a full beard and a mess of wet brown hair. He shakes that hair now, like a dog, soaking Hermann in the process. Hermann growls. "I beg your pardon,” he says.

"Oops,” Geiszler says. “Sorry. Anyway, Dr. Gottlieb, I'm really glad I caught you, there are—there are some things I wanted to tell you about. Before the meeting. They're—hold on." He rummages around in the deep pockets of his raincoat and produces a damp notebook, which he begins to flip through frantically. "It's about—"

"I know what it's about," Hermann says. Geiszler fumbles to push his glasses back up his nose. "In fact, there are some things I need to speak with you about as well."

"You've seen them?" Geiszler says in a hushed tone.

Hermann scowls. "I certainly have.”

They first started cropping up in the forest around the little cabin Geiszler calls home. Then, like dandelions or bamboo, they spread fast and far—to the town commons, in the front lawn of the coffee shop Hermann frequents, in front of his house. Whenever Hermann dashes one down with his cane or hauls one off to a rubbish bin, two more only crop up in its place. It's annoying, frankly. As if Hermann doesn't have to deal with enough already.

3 ALIEN ABDUCTIONS IN ONE WEEK - WHEN IS THE COUNCIL GOING TO DO SOMETHING?, the new one sitting in front of the community center says.

It's better than last week's sign, Hermann supposes. THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE - AND HERMANN GOTTLIEB IS BLIND TO IT.

"You know you need a permit for those, Dr. Geiszler," Hermann says. "Or, at the very least, the council's permission. They're a public nuisance."

"My signs are a public nuisance?" Geiszler shouts. Hermann flinches back. Geiszler may be compact, but if he doesn't have the shrillest voice on the whole damned planet. "Open your eyes, dude! A dozen people went missing last month! The only public nuisance is whatever's coming from—" He bites his lip and jabs his finger at the sky, as if saying anything remotely akin to outer space would suddenly send fleets of UFOs pouring down from above. "And you're just letting them walk right fucking in."

“I thought they were flying in?" Hermann says. He raps Geiszler’s shin with the end of his cane. "Do get out of my way, Dr. Geiszler. The meeting starts in ten minutes, and you're welcome to air all of your grievances then."

Geiszler is silent as Hermann ducks around him and ascends the community center ramp. For a moment, Hermann thinks he may have won this small victory, and then he hears the wet slaps of Geiszler's rain boots against the pavement behind him. "Really funny," Newton says. "Real fucking funny, dude. I bet it'll be just as funny when they come for you next!"

Hermann unlocks the door. Geiszler waves a stack of black-and-white polaroids beneath his nose. "I took these last week," Geiszler says, and begins flipping through them as frantically as he had his notepad. Each one is blurry and indistinct, like Geiszler snapped them through a gauzy curtain with shaking hands. Hermann's not sure what he's meant to be looking at. "The day that waitress went missing from the bus stop. And two nights after that—your neighbor, the one who went outside to let his cat in and never came b—"

"Enough," Hermann says. He pushes the polaroids away, knocking two to the ground, and Geiszler scrambles to pick them up before they're ruined. "Dr. Geiszler, it is undoubtedly tragic that these people have—er—vanished, as they have, but continuously insisting extraterrestrials had something to do with it, and furthermore—" Geiszler opens his mouth as if to argue, but Hermann raises his voice and pushes on. "—furthermore, that I'm meant to do something about it, is completely—well, it's unhinged, frankly. I'm not law enforcement. Or the mayor. Or bloody—NASA. What do you want from me?"

Geiszler stares at him for a long time. He pockets his photographs. "They're gonna come for you," he says, ominously. "Just like they did for me."

The meeting goes off as expected, which is to say, badly. Hermann gets shouted at by nearly everyone in town, many of whom blame Hermann and his presumed negligence for the disappearances over the past year as well (blessedly, they don't also blame aliens), though many more of them blame him for more trivial things such as the broken water fountain in the commons or the library's slow wireless internet. Hermann can't decide which is worse.

As it is, when the clock strikes eight, he's more than ready to go home. "Right," he announces, standing up and making a show of tidying his meeting notes. They're already tidy: Hermann's notes are always meticulous. He continues—rather quickly, in case someone gets bold and attempts to interrupt him, "Thank you all very much for such a, er, productive meeting. I'll make sure to pass along everything you've said to the appropriate people. If there's nothing else..."

Geiszler jumps to his feet. A few people groan; Hermann has a feeling they're just about as sick of him as Hermann is. "Um, yeah, actually, I want to add something."

"No," Hermann says. “Dr. Geiszler, please, we can talk—”

"When we were outside," Geiszler continues anyway, raising his voice, "you asked me what I wanted you to do. Well, I just want you to listen to me! That's all! I have so much proof—so much I can show you—and you won't even—!"

"Proof?" Hermann says. "Your rubbish photographs?”

"It's not just the photographs! It's other stuff, too! Like—" Geiszler lets out a long, angry huff of air, and actually balls his fists up at his sides. Hermann has never seen him so incensed, not even when he accused Hermann of being an alien himself during a council meeting last summer. "Look, just come to my house and I'll fuckin' show you. Or are you that afraid of being—I don’t know, proven wrong?"

Part of Hermann is convinced that if he follows Geiszler out to his isolated cabin in the middle of the woods, it'll be the last thing he ever does. At the very least, he certainly has no desire to spend more time with Geiszler than he's already forced to. Yet—on the other hand—Hermann does not appreciate the challenge, nor does he appreciate being made to look like a fool by the man who chairs the local paranormal society. "Fine," he snaps, and Geiszler startles in obvious surprise. "Fine, you wretched little man. I’ll let you show me whatever proof you think you may have, so long as you take every single one of those signs down."

"Um," Geiszler squeaks. He clears his throat. "D—deal?"

Hermann seizes his cane and thrusts his chair back under his table roughly. "Well?" he says to the rest of the hall, none of whom have budged since Geiszler began shouting his head off. He scowls at the lot of them. "The meeting is over. You can leave."

It's Hermann's job to shut down the building each week, so he waits for the very last stragglers to toss out their paper water cups, shrug on their raincoats, and file outside before switching off the lights and locking up. He finds Geiszler lurking by a rather worse-for-wear green VW Beetle at the curb, the hood of his raincoat flipped back up over his hair. Hermann desperately hopes that the car isn't Geiszler’s. He is Hermann’s ride home tonight, after all. "I took the signs down," Geiszler says in a rush. "All of the ones around here, anyway. I'll have to do the rest tomorrow." He jerks his thumb at the backseat of the Beetle, where Hermann sees a haphazard pile of some of the 3 ALIEN ABDUCTIONS signs. His heart sinks. The X-Files bumper stickers should've been a dead giveaway, really.

"Thank you," Hermann sighs. "Well, let's get this over with."

"The heat is busted, so you might wanna leave your coat on," Geiszler says apologetically when Hermann manages to squish himself into the passenger's seat. The floor is a sea of empty Dunkin' Donuts cups, stacks of pulp science (or, if Hermann were to be less kind, pseudoscientific) magazines spanning back at least half a decade, and a pin-littered linen tote bag filled to the brim with boxed Annie's macaroni and cheese.

"Uh, sorry," Geiszler says. "I had to run some errands earlier. You can just—toss that in the back. Yeah."

The ride is short but bumpy, and though the removal of Geiszler's shopping bag offers Hermann more leg room, there is nothing that can make up for his tragically awful driving and his tragically awful CD collection. Hermann almost bolts from the car when they finally pull up at Geiszler's ivy-shrouded cabin, so relieved to have made it there in one piece that he's all but forgotten that he must now spend the rest of the evening with Geiszler, too. He remembers soon enough: another duo of aggressive signs have been pounded into Geiszler's mossy front path, TURN BACK NOW - ALIEN ABDUCTION ZONE, and a rather good sketch of Hermann beneath WHAT ARE THOSE CHEEKBONES HIDING? "That one's from the summer," Geiszler says sheepishly, kicking down the latter with the toe of his boot. "I keep forgetting to take it down. I don't still think you're an alien, by the way."

"Er, thank you," Hermann says. "I suppose?"

"They wouldn't be that obvious," Geiszler says, emphasizing the they with a meaningful glance up at the night sky.

"Of course not," Hermann says.

He's not quite sure what he expected Geiszler's house to look like. Some sort of—conspiracy nutter's den, perhaps, with aluminum foil hats and deconstructed radios and elaborate photoboards full of thumbtacks and red string. Or the interior of his car on a larger scale, with empty takeout containers and crumpled up papers on every surface. He's...sort of right. There's a noticeable lack of tinhats, but there are plenty of (modestly-sized) corkboards on the walls and multiple coffee cups peeking out of a recycling bin. The rest is merely precisely what Hermann would expect from an academic in his 30s: books, and mis-matching furniture, and a sink of dishes begging to be washed. It's...a bit disappointing, frankly. Though Hermann is rather impressed with the sleek telescope angled in front of the back slider door. Impressed, and envious. It's a very nice model.

"Make yourself at home," Geiszler says, unzipping his voluminous raincoat and tossing it, along with Hermann's, over the back of a worn armchair. He's wearing a pair of torn skinny jeans and a band t-shirt that reveals his heavily tattooed, and deceptively shapely, arms. Hermann tears his eyes away and forces himself to sit down at one end of Geiszler's couch. "I'm gonna make us some coffee. Do you want any sugar or non-dairy creamer?"

"No, thank you," Hermann says. "I don't drink coffee this late. It'll keep me up all night."

"Well, I hope so, that's kinda the plan,” Geiszler says. He rolls his eyes. “The aliens never come before at least midnight. Soy milk or almond milk?"

Hermann thinks, briefly and longingly, of his nice warm bed, the blanket he intended to toss in the dryer, and the herbal tea he won't be having after all. "Almond milk?" he hazards.

Geiszler stares at him in evident disgust. "Dude, I was kidding. You know how bad that shit is for the environment? It takes, like, a fuckin' thousand gallons of water or something like that for one carton of almond milk. It's insane. I mean, I guess it's still less water than what dairy needs, but there are plenty of better options."

"Oh," Hermann says. Hermann drinks skim milk. "I'm sorry. Er. Soy milk?"

As Geiszler fixes them mugs, Hermann begins to poke around some papers scattered across the coffee table. One is a list of names and dates, seemingly random, Hermann thinks, until he recognizes (scrawled in purple ink at the very bottom of the page) that of the gentleman who disappeared from his back porch just down Hermann's street. When he recognizes another—a teenager who worked as a barista at Hermann’s favorite coffee shop—he realizes it must be everyone who's vanished from town in the past year. Another paper has the same dates repeated, though not alongside any names—rather, bizarre little phrases like circling lights and that sound again. "You found my notes," Geiszler says cryptically, and then thrusts a mug out to Hermann.

Hermann takes the mug. A logo on the side tells Hermann it was from some academic conference in California ten years ago. "What are they supposed to mean?" he says.

Geiszler snorts. "Uh, I thought it was kind of obvious. Look—" He sits next to Hermann, far too close, and points at the column of numbers on the first page. "These are the dates when people have been reported missing," he says, and then scans his finger over to the second page, "and these are the dates when I've observed extraterrestrial—or at least, unexplainable—activity overhead. See how they match up almost perfectly?

"Mm," Hermann says. He does not. "So—if I am to understand you correctly—you believe that a, ah," he takes the page back from Geiszler, "a 'weird swoopy sound' from overhead had something to do with that poor young woman disappearing from a bus stop last week?”

"It wasn't just a weird noise!" Geiszler exclaims. "I showed you the pictures. I ran outside when I heard it, and thank fuck I had my camera, because I caught those lights just as they were leaving. And then what do I find out the next morning? There was another abduction, at almost the exact same time I saw the lights!"

"Ten miles from here," Hermann reminds him. "It would've had to have been a bloody fast ship."

"Yeah, no shit, Hermann," Geiszler says. "They're, like, fucking—mega-advanced lifeforms. They probably have the tech to vaporize the entire Earth if they wanted. Of course it was a fast ship.”

Geiszler is still sitting awfully close to Hermann. He runs very warm, unlike Hermann, warm enough to make Hermann warm too—like a scruffy, tattooed, freckled furnace. Yes, freckled, for Geiszler has the lightest dusting of freckles across his round chipmunk-like cheeks that Hermann finds inexplicably charming. He wonders if Geiszler would notice him loosen his collar a bit, perhaps take off his sweater. He really is getting quite warm. "So, I was saying," Geiszler continues, and though he speaks almost directly into Hermann's ear, he sounds as if he's a mile away from him. "Waitress at bus stop—weird lights over my cabin—waitress gone from bus stop. The proof is, like, undeniable!"

"Indeed," Hermann says.

He undoes the top button of his collar. He hasn't touched his coffee yet—he wonders if Geiszler even cares. The tattoo on Geiszler’s bicep, some sort of space tentacle monster, stares back at Hermann. "I'm telling you, man," Geiszler says, "this is no joke. They're taking people, maybe even for good."

They're gonna come for you, just like they did for me. When Geiszler began spouting nonsense about aliens last year, he was not booted from the biology department right away. Mostly everyone at the college, Hermann knows, tolerated his eccentricities on account of his admittedly brilliant mind and popularity among the students. The final straw came when Geiszler's extraterrestrial delusions (for what else could they be?) reached a new level: he showed up to campus in his pajamas one morning, raving that the aliens were not only zooming about over his house, but had actually abducted him the previous evening. "You seemed to fare alright, though, didn't you?" Hermann says. "When you were—ah—taken? They even dropped you back off in time for work. Quite courteous, I should think."

"That's—" Geiszler begins to shake his leg up and down, nervous energy radiating up his body and through Hermann's. He spills some of his coffee on the carpet. "That was—that was dumb. I got lucky. I think I was one of the first ones, you know? Because the disappearances didn't really get bad until, like, a month after that? I was in bed—and, and it wasn't like how it is in movies, I wasn't sucked up in a giant beam of light or anything like that, one minute I was there and then the next I wasn't, I was somewhere...else. And—uh. I don't really remember what they looked like. I tried to—sketch them out, but it was like trying to remember a dream, all the specific details about them just faded once it was over. But, um." He rubs the back of his neck, and Hermann is surprised to see him blushing. "Well, if I'm being honest, I think I kinda freaked them out."

Hermann can't help but snort. "You what?"

"I'm serious!" Geiszler shrieks. "I freaked them out. I was just really excited about it all. Like, dude, come on, I was abducted by aliens. How fucking cool is that? I just kept asking a bunch of questions, like, are you gonna probe me? are you gonna take me back to Mars or Jupiter or, like, I don't know, fucking Gallifrey? do you even understand what I'm saying, how do you communicate? and then the next thing I knew, I was landing on my ass in the school parking lot. They must've been observing me like I was observing them, like, they maybe knew I worked there? Anyway—" He shakes his head. "I tell you what, I'm real glad I decided to not just wear boxers like usual to bed that night. That would've been really embarrassing."

Bombarded with the sudden mental image of what Geiszler usually looks like in bed, Hermann (feeling rather warm again) tugs at his collar and clears his throat. He has certainly seen more than enough for the night, and if his mind is straying to something as prosaic as what does Dr. Geiszler look like half-naked?, it likely means it’s time for bed. "Er, right. Dr. Geiszler—"

"Just call me Newt, man," Geiszler says.

"Newton," Hermann concedes. It gives him a private little thrill. No one calls Newton Newton; it’s always either Newt or Dr. Geiszler. "Newton,” he says again, “this has been a very—illuminating—evening, but it's getting rather late, and I think you ought to drive me home before—"

And then Newton begins to take off his shirt.

Yes, a small part of Hermann's brain whispers traitorously, yes, yes, yes, even as Hermann recoils and stammers out, "Newton, what—?!"

"Oh, calm down, I'm not coming onto you," Newton says. He drops his t-shirt on the floor and jabs a thumb at his chest. His bare chest. "See, look. Proof."

Hermann's not sure what he's meant to be looking at. The giant Godzilla tattooed over Newton's pectorals? The flying saucer tattooed above Newton’s belly button? Newton’s nipple piercings? Hermann thinks he understands what an overheating computer feels like, an influx of too much information with processors unequipped to handle it. "I," he says. Newton’s belly button is not pierced. Hermann’s not sure why he thought it would be.

"Look at my chest, dude!" Newton says, tapping his skin insistently.

It takes Hermann a great deal of effort to pull his eyes away from the nipple piercings. In the dead center of Newton's chest, spaced perfectly between his pectorals and right over the nostrils of Godzilla, is a strange, almost luminescent glyph of a language Hermann can't begin to recognize. It's raised from Newton's skin, more like a brand than a tattoo. And...well, when Hermann says luminescent, he really means it. The squiggle seems to glow blue. "This was on me the next morning," Newton says. "I think they marked me. Like you'd tag a lab rat?”

Hermann can't help himself: he reaches out and touches the mark. "Strange," he murmurs. Compared to the heat of Newton’s body, the glyph is quite cool. Frigid, in fact, like metal, and yet as soft as the rest of his skin.

He's close enough to Newton to hear the hitch in his breath when they make contact, and as he traces his fingertips over the glyph, he can feel Newton's heart pounding beneath them. Strange, indeed; Newton has been such a thorn in his side for so many months, and yet all Hermann wants to do now is touch even more of him. He trails his hand lower, down to the flying saucer on Newton's soft abdomen. Newton inhales sharply. "Um," he says. "Should—should I put my shirt back on?"

"Do you want to?" Hermann says.

"Not really," Newton says.

He stares at Hermann, eyebrows knit together behind his glasses, like he can't seem to make sense of him. His confusion is very much warranted; Hermann can’t seem to make sense of himself right now, either. Then, to Hermann's supreme annoyance, the pieces seem to click into place in Newton's mind, and he grins. "Oh, duh," he says. "No wonder. You wanna fuck me, don't you? That’s why you’re so obsessed with me.”

That would certainly explain the strange warm feeling that comes over Hermann sometimes when he thinks about Newton in the dead of night that he has, up until this very moment, attributed to bouts of temporary insanity and/or a latent murderous desire. Nothing so dramatic as all that, then—just regular human biology. Urgh. How disgusting. And for Newton, of all people. “Obsessed with you?” Hermann sniffs, desperate to retain some element of propriety even while he begins to tug at Newton’s button fly. “Newton, you have spent thousands of dollars on yard signs just to invite me over for a coffee.”

“Uh, yeah, and it worked,” Newton says.

He curls his fingers in the front of Hermann's sweater, thumbing over one of the buttons.

“Even when I thought you were an alien,” Newton says, “I still kiiiiinda wanted to fuck you.”

Delusional or not, Newton looks terrifically good with a beard.

"Wait," Hermann gasps some time later. "Newton, stop a moment—"

Newton pulls away from him, frowning. He pushes his glasses back up on his nose. "What is it?" he says. "Did I hurt—?"

But Hermann pats at his shoulder frantically, pointing beyond him at the back slider and the dark of the forest beyond that. Newton cranes his neck around. "Only I'm sure I saw something. Lights, or…” Hermann feels a small twinge of embarrassment. The night is dead silent, and dead still. “Well, now I'm not sure."

“You probably imagined it," Newton says. He slips back down to press a kiss at Hermann's jaw. “It’s too early to be them.”

Not even ten yet. Newton kisses behind Hermann’s ear. It feels very nice. "Yes," Hermann agrees slowly, his eyelids flickering shut. He smooths his hand up and down Newton’s back. "Yes, I suppose you're right." Newton’s stories must have left him on edge. Which is of course ridiculous, because they’re all a load of rubbish—there may be extraterrestrials somewhere out there in the great wide universe, but they’re certainly not swooping down and plucking up hapless test subjects from Earth, let alone their small town, every other day. Hermann has much more important things to concern himself with right now, like how it feels when he threads his fingers in the soft strands of Newton’s hair, or the sound Newton makes when Hermann digs his nails into his skin, or how wonderful kissing Newton is...

And, unobserved by both of them, the three lights hovering above Newton's cabin blink away as quickly as they'd come.

[hermesserpent-stuff]

apologizing: a reflection

Apologizes. Ive been thinking about them. It's one of the reasons the yee haw family started in the first place. I like the complexity of a villain (cough music meister cough) having to come to terms with having made a mistake. I have had two ideas for scenes running in my head since starting to post about the au and I don't want to lose them. 

SO! These are set after meister has been with Greg and Justin for a while, is going by Dinadan , and has started to feel bad for his past behavior with Pied Piper. He seeks out each adult individually. under cut because oops.

Scene with Greg:

Meister is helping Greg put away saddles and bridles. The cowboy is working vigilantly and carefully, making sure to check each piece for wear and damage. Meister pauses for a second, takes a breath, and then asks his question.

“How do you apologize?”

Greg looks up brown eyes sharp with thought. His full attention is on Meister.

“Depends on what you're apologizing for. If it's a simple thing, like dropping something on someone’s feet, a quick sorry will do. But I suspect that ain’t the case.”

Meister fiddles with one of the bridles.

“No. It isn't. I… I've done some pretty bad things.”

“So have I.”

Greg says with a hum and then leans back. Meister puts down the bridle.

“But to address your question Din, I think it's important for an apology comes from actual sorriness, not just guilt,” He adjusts his hat, “It's also important that the apology is not an attack.” “And attack? How can an apology be an attack?”

Meister’s eyes narrow and his head tilts. Greg hums.

“It's hard to explain. Let me tell you a story. I was bullied a bit when I was younger.”

“You?”

“Me. I wasn't very big in middle school and there was this kid named Terry. Terry the terror. He loved taking other kids’ arms and twisting them till they screamed. And making nasty comments on anythin’ he could while he was at it. Anyway, he moved to another state in the first year of high school. I stopped thinking about him for a long time and the words and actions he inflicted on me settled. I felt better about myself and started doing a lot of things to improve my skills and pursue my dreams.”

Greg straightens one of the saddles, the glint of his eyes dampening slightly.

“Then the man got an itching of guilt at the age of twenty. Drove ‘im mad thinkin’ over what he’d done, I guess. He came back, spoutin’ off about how messes in his current life made him want to right wrongs from his distant past. Funny thing is, it didn't feel distant to me. He dragged forward all the rotten memories and bit into that self-confidence I’d built. And then he ran off again. He didn't mean nothin’. He just wanted to offload his guilt and brought with him an attack on my soul by tryin’ to heal his own. My father sat me down that night and looked me in the eye.”

Greg’s eyes flick back to Meister’s, bright and burning.

“He said, ‘Son, you don't have to forgive a man that ain't sorry. You owe ‘im nothin’, and if you can’t stop ‘im from hurtin’ others, you especially don’t owe ‘im your thoughts. When someone’s truly sorry and tells you, they’re tryin’ to build and repair a relationship. The fact that that child ran back off into the ether means he weren’t sorry. He was just feelin’ guilt.’ So Din. Imma tell you this as someone who has been apologized to a lot over the years and has apologized a lot myself, make sure it's worth reminding them of the pain. That you are workin’ to build somethin’ and not just off loadin’ guilt. Also, you can't make people forgive you and build out that relationship. It's their right to choose either way.”

Meister blinks, taking in all the information, and slowly nods. Greg gives a large smile and then squeezes his shoulder. 

“Takes a brave man to see his mistakes and take on the responsibility of fixin’ them. I think you’ll be brave. In time. Till then, keep talkin’ and thinkin’. Never gonna learn nothin’ if you keep on the same tracks alone.”

Greg rises and leaves Meister to think for a while.

-------

Scene with Justin:

Meister is brushing Copper while Justin brushes Victory. His conversation with Greg is still fresh in his mind. He decides to see what his other adult thinks.

“How do you apologize?”

Justin pauses for a second, clearly thinking deeply. 

“Apologies are an admittance of wrong and a way to verbally promise to rise above what you once were to not do the action again. We all fall short, stumbling in the darkness, but the key is to try and rise above our past selves. To be noble and be more. An apology should address the mis-action, make a statement of how improvement will be made, and then be followed by a change in actions. An apology is hollow if you continue to act in the same manner.”

Meister leans against Copper, chewing on his lip.

“But, what if you keep messing up? Or messed up a lot?”

“The path of nobility and courage can be narrow. It is hard to be perfect in all moments.”

Just says, pausing. He fully faces Meister and his eyes are soft.

“You cannot be your best self every waking moment. But you can strive to be. I think most people can respect trying, if the world is not more off-kilter than I think. To make the attempt is half of the battle. So even if you keep messing up, you can still rise again. Greg and I will be here to catch you when you stumble. It is what family and friends are for.”

Meister feels a small grin working its way onto his face but still has something eating away at him.

“You still want me around, even if I have done horrible things in my past?”

Justin reaches out and touches his hand.

“Of course. You are not doing those things now and clearly, your mind has come to see them as wrong and not how you wish to act. There are many in this world that are content to wrap themselves in misdeeds and evil and sleep in the filthy ditch-water of mistakes. But I think you are too courageous to be like them. You are trying to change and be better than you once were. That makes you very noble in my eyes, Dinadan.”

Justin lets go of his hand and returns to brushing down Victory. Meister blinks and looks down at his hands. He takes a breath and then returns to brushing Copper, having a lot to think about. Both in what he wants to tell his adults about his past as a super villain and how, and if, he would apologize to Pied Piper. 

[realcube]

waking up the hq boys at midnight to get ice-cream hcs🍦

characters: tsukishima, tanaka, nishinoya, ushijima, sugawara,  oikawa,  kageyama 

note: yes, this was very much inspired by that one tiktok sound where the girl wakes up her bf to get ice-cream- 

also, i use midnight as like..the middle of the night- not actaully 12AM lol

tw// fluff, sangwoo- 

Tsukishima Kei

you did not need to wake him up at 1AM to get ice-cream

man was already up, having just came off his phone and laying like this 😐 in bed as he either waited for himself to fall asleep or was thinking about an awkward interaction he had earlier that day 

anyway, as soon as you turned to him like ‘tsukki, do you wanna come with me to get ice-cream?’

he was suddenly 😴 fast asleep, fake snores and all

you were stubborn though, so you hopped out of bed up to go get ice-cream by yourself if he was just going to ignore you 

although, once you threw your coat on, tsukishima decided to start questioning your unusual behaviour, ‘why do you want ice-cream? it’s night; can’t you just sleep like a normal person and have ice-cream in the morning?’ 

honestly, tsukishima probably finds your nightly antics more endearing and cute rather than annoying 

he’d never admit it though- 

if you talk to him after midnight, on the outside he always looks displeased but really, he loves talking to you period

whether it is at 5PM or 1AM

you shrugged, without an explanation for your craving, ‘i don’t need to reason my midnight urges to you.’

with that, you turned on your heels to head out the door with the full intention of going to get ice-cream - this wasn’t a game 

tsukishima groaned as he finally deduced that you were being dead serious and not just doing this to irritate him

‘ugh, wait.’ he scoffed, forcing himself out of bed to follow you, ‘we have ice-cream downstairs, dumb-ass. don’t bother going out.’ 

you didn’t spare him a glance, continuing to venture to the front door, ‘yeah, but we don’t have strawberry.’ 

tsukishima glared at you, realising that persuasion would not work in this situation so he’d have to resort to brute force and trickery

‘ah, alright.’ he let out a sigh of defeat, ‘at least give us a hug before you go then.’

you paid no mind to how he referred to himself as plural, which is something he only does when he is lying or guilty as he is talking on behalf of his two faces 

also, you should’ve realised something was up when he actually asked for a hug instead of just expecting you to give him one

obliging, you wrapped him in a hug; allowing him to scoop you up into his arms, throw you over his shoulder and carry you to the kitchen

‘let me go, you whore!’  you squealed, lightly slapping his back as if that’d make him let you go 

tsukishima snickered at how childish you were being, ‘you can’t go out in the middle of the night to get ice-cream. you’ll die.’ 

‘i won’t die!’

‘you definitely will.’

anyway, he ends up making you both a bowl of ice-cream and eating it with you at the kitchen table while watching Spirited Away

and despite the fact he had some too, he’ll tease you about this for..the rest of your life 

like sometimes he’ll just wake you up in the middle of the night (during holidays ofc - he respects your sleep schedule) and whisper in your ear, ‘(y/n), do you wanna come get ice-cream with me?’

Tanaka Ryūnosuke

IORFHIEBGEGBO THIS MAN

ik most ppl would think he’d just go with you without a second thought or that he’d be the one asking you to go out for ice-cream but- no- 

well, yes; he wants to 

but when you wake him at 1AM 

(which he doesn’t mind btw bc  sometimes he accidentally wakes you up at like 3AM bc he’s ragin’ on Battlefield oop-)

and you’re all like ‘ryū, wanna go get ice-cream?’ *puppy eyes*

he’s like ‘sure!- but i ain’t got money so- no ❤’ 

then he goes back to sleep 

however, if you say that you’ll pay..he’s already standing with your bags by the door

so you’re definitely gonna have to fork up some cash for that good quality pistachio gelato for him if you want his presence 😌

but tbh, if you said that you were just gonna pay for yourself, he’d come anyway-

Nishinoya Yū

y’all go out at midnight for ice-cream at least once a week-

and it literally began bc you were watching ASMRs and Mukbangs together at 1AM during a sleepover 

and one person was having some lemon gelato and it looked 👌✨ immaculate

in that moment, you both looked at each other and neither of you had to utter a single word for you both to know that there was a mutual goal in mind; to get ice-cream, ASAP

so yeah ig you didn’t have to wake him up but you did need to awake the desire for ice-cream inside him

needless to say, y’all ran to the nearest ice-cream place 

and you made a race out of it 

(you won, ofc)

AND YOU BOTH SHARED A CUP OF GELATO AND IT WAS SO CUTE ! q(≧▽≦q)

and y’know the trope where you have food on the corner of your lip/chin etc and the person kisses you to get rid of it? 

yeah he tried to do that with the trope in mind but he deadass LICKED you IWFBVBBFRI

he was like ‘omg (y/n), lemme get that for you’ 😋👅

honestly, ig it depends if you are into that kinda stuff but ik some ppl would leave fast af ( ﾟдﾟ)つ Bye

Ushijima Wakatoshi

sorry i might have a bit of favouritism going on but i feel like ushijima would be a bigger bitch about it than tsukishima (at first)

but it’s like- solely bc you woke him up y’know?

‘ushijima, wanna go get ice-cream?’

he’s just laying there with his bed-head like :/

silently livid bc you messed up his potential 9 hours of sleep

‘no.’

pester all you want but that is the best you’re getting out of him that night

HOWEVER, the following afternoon (after practise ofc), he took you out for ice-cream 😊

and unlike some would believe (by ‘some’, i mean myself 2 secs ago.) i don’t think he’d be all ‘ice-cream is horrible for your health, (y/n)’ or ‘i can’t believe you’re eating that filth. your body is a temple.’

but that rather he’d just happily eat gelato with you; everything in moderation ig :)

OH AND HE’D PURPOSELLY BUY A DIFFERENT FLAVOUR FROM YOU SO HE COULD BE LIKE

‘(y/n), do you want a bite of mine?’ and give you a spoonful to try like the romance king he is  

Oikawa Tōru

you wouldn’t wake him up bc mf needs his beauty sleep

plus, it was during a sleepover at your house so ofc you didn’t want to wake up your guest 

but he’s a light sleeper so when you’re shuffling through your stuff at 1AM, sneaking around the house to find a jacket (trying to be as quiet as possible so you don’t wake him up); his eyes are open and he’s speculating that sangwoo is near

until he turns around to notice that you’re not laying next to him and he is in fact being spooned by a large pillow (probably a sangwoo body pillow smh)

after that, he hops to his feet and storms through the house in search of you so he can yell at you for ruining his sleep grr

however, once he finds you and realises that you look ready to head out, he feels inclined to firstly ask, ‘where are you going? you know it’s 2AM, right?’ 

you replied by explaining your plan to sneak out for ice-cream and he just stared at you, absolutely bewildered for a few moments

he stood like a statue with that stupid expression on his face for ages so you asked him if he was alright, to which he responded, ‘that’s such a stupid idea.’

‘so, you’re not coming with?’

‘of course i am.’

so you both ended up sitting with your ice-cream cones, in your pyjamas, on a park bench somewhere, admiring the moonlit sky along with the stars adorning it

oh, and that was actually the first time he said ‘i love you.’

Sugawara Kōshi

if feel like suga would be exactly like the guy in the sound/video: confused, tired and extremely reluctant but ofc inevitably he ends up standing outside of a dessert place, hand-in-hand with you

he’d wake up, weary from fatigue and he barely has the strength to argue with you during the day - so how exactly was he supposed to do it in the middle of the night? 

thus, he lugged himself out of bed and threw on a coat but as soon as the cold winter air bit at his nose, he was flooded with the energy and will-power to try convince you stay in with him

(It’s his parental senses) 

‘you’ll catch a cold, darling!’ (yes, he does call you that.) ‘and it’s night too, there’s probably a bunch of creeps out and around!’

at that point, it was just a battle of will

bc you both had each other’s wishes at heart

you wanted him to have peace of mind and he wanted you to have ice-cream

(and he was kinda craving some himself tbh)

so you both decided to stay in, tucking into the half-eaten tubs of Ben & Jerry’s in the fridge 

and after that, neither of you got any sleep bc you both stayed up watching movies and cuddling 🥺

Kageyama Tobio

he was wide awake at 2AM, laying beside you on the bed, practising sets 

so ofc the time wasn’t an issue

but kageyama wasn’t big on sweet treats so when you suggested that y’all should go out for ice-cream, you were shocked - to say the least - when he simply replied 

‘sure’

like why would he oppose? he was already awake. plus, he was kinda craving something sweet tbh

also, he could tell it’d make you happy and he’s whipped tbh

so you took advantage of this indifferency by immediately jolting up and dragging him to your favourite dessert place

the whole time, he acted as usual - it was as if he was just on a regular walk to school

when you got there, you both shared a sundae and he paid; what a king (❤´艸｀❤)

(it was bc you had forgotten your wallet/purse at home- but still a kind gesture 💕)

you both just sat in a booth, pecking away at the sundae while talking about anything and everything that came to mind as the low, distant R&B music from the shop’s speakers played in the background

 ‘it is flat. have you ever been on a plane before, (y/n)? did you see a single curve? no.’

you rolled your eyes, finding it physically painful how stupid kagyeama could be sometimes, ‘it’s science, kags. the earth is round! the curves are just very subtle.’

‘no.’

‘YOU CAN’T SAY NO! IT’S SCIENCE!’ 

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

A World-- Unsure

dabi / f.reader 

genre: real world to parallel world au? (is that an au? it’ll make sense dw), angst, pinning, fools to lovers? (or dabi is stubborn/scared as all get out)

warning(s): blood, violence/bar fight, descriptions of injuries, cursing (dabi and i both have a potty mouth oops) 

w.count: 9.4k 

synopsis: You were someone in the middle.  You had no mega praise for heros to speak of, but you also had no ill will towards villains either- you had seen both sides. After a few years running a hidden, underground medical base for villains who needed treatment beneath the bar that you ran and owned, you’ve met your fair share of villains.  It was odd to think of them as good people, since you depended on them a lot if you got yourself into a pinch.  In fact, a lot of your patients became bar regulars on the public downlow. It’s not a big shock that you end up meeting Dabi.  

a/n: teehee, first time writing for dabi! I’m pretty excited not gonna lie, since this idea was pretty interesting to think about.  this is the first part of A World -- a two part series! I’ll be working on the next part asap, so hopefully it won’t be a horribly long wait- but we’ll see how my time management is in the long run lol.  (also, the draft was like 8.6k, i dunno how i added a whole 800 more words)

-x-x-x-

You stood behind the bar, shining glasses as you set up the counter and glanced at the clock hanging on the wall just above the entrance of the small pub.  You sighed as you set the glass down before taking the rag you were using and throwing it over your shoulder.  It was quiet in the open room filled with circular tabs, rectangular booths and metal rimmed chairs- quiet except for the footsteps of employees prepping for opening. 

Your black jeans hung on your waist as your white button up was slightly wrinkled, the long sleeves rolled as best as possible up to your elbows.  Your hair up and out of the way so you wouldn’t be constantly fighting it when the rush started.  There was a small, pocket apron around your waist with a pocket for a receipt book, a pen, some napkins and pain medicine just in case another headache walked in the door tonight and a few other odds and ends. The only other thing on your person was the new pair of steel toed boots you had indulged yourself to.  

“Hey, Boss Lady,” one of your employees called. You looked around, seeing the one who called you peeking their head around from inside the rec room. The room itself was probably one of the most expensive rooms you’ve ever put together.  A pool table in the middle of the room, dart boards on either side of the room, a small little entertainment center, a sofa and another mini bar inside run by a trusted bargirl you hired when you opened your pub doors for the first time. 

“What is it?” 

“Is the rec room rented out for the night? I heard some of the others saying it was.”  

That was something else that was different about your little hole in the wall.  Since you weren’t all that popular or big enough for a special vip area or an area in general for occasions like birthdays or anniversaries, your patrons could call and make reservations and get the rec room rented out. However, you only let the room be rented on Fridays, Saturdays and Wednesdays.  The other days, it was open for anyone to come and go as they please so long as nothing is damaged. 

It was Friday night. You couldn’t think of anyone renting it out tonight, but there was a group coming in tomorrow so long as they don’t cancel on you. 

You shook your head. “No.  It’s tomorrow when it’s rented.  You’re clear to leave the dividing ropes put away.” 

“Right on,” they thumbs upped you before retreating back into the room to prep and clean before opening. 

7:45, a quarter ‘till eight- opening time.  You cupped one hand around your mouth. “Hurry up and get your final prepping all done.  Quarter ‘till!” Your employees all made some sort of response or sound back to you, signaling that they understood.  

Part of you always felt a little guilty each opening night since you knew it wasn’t just regular citizens or the occasional hero off duty who frequented your pub.  You knew of the bad people who walk in the doors, stay for a drink and leave without causing a ruckus.  You knew of them, because, unknown to your employees, you had a second job. 

A second job that had a lot to do with the large, concrete basement of your pub that you refused to tell them about.  It wouldn’t be a great business move if you just told people you let villains sneak into your pub to go into the basement where you had a large array of (stolen) medical equipment to treat their injuries. 

-x-x-x-

It was well into the midnight rush of the night when the door opened again.  The loud combination of everyone’s murmurs and the smell of every type of alcohol someone could name off filtered through the air and almost made you pull out your medicine. After three years running this place, one would think you’d become accustomed to the smells combined with the noise.  To no avail. 

You had stepped back away from the bar, your back close to the shelves behind you lined with bottles, cups, glasses, and a small old-style antenna radio that, despite being turned on, wasn’t heard over the ruckus. 

Heading to the opposite side of the bar after being paged by some random man for a neat glass of whiskey.  You snagged a glass, grabbing a bottle of the cheapest brand you could find- because this man’s lack of manners towards a lady, bargirl or not, didn’t impress you.  Pouring the liquor into the glass like it was second nature, you reached under the bar to scoop out a sphere of ice to drop into the glass.  

Sliding it over to the already tipsy looking man, you were called- more politely this time- from another patron for a bottle of beer.  Smiling at him and signaling to him that you heard him, you trotted over to the mini fridge under the bar and grabbed the brand he requested.  

As you carefully, and skillfully, popped the tab off with the bar’s edge, you placed the bottle on a coaster and slid it over to him, tapping the bar top with your hand and serving him with a smile.  He thanked you, which you were appreciative of, before he turned to his friend next to him and continued conversing.  

Moving back to the middle of the bar, you noticed a few empty glasses in front of empty bar stools with bills pinned under them.  Taking the bills and pocketing them, you took the glasses and stashed them below the bar in a small tub you kept in a metal cart for easily putting dirty dishes for later. 

As you wiped down the bar top, you saw another person, clad in a full black get-up slide into a bar stool that was recently left vacant.  They weren’t far from you, just a few feet, but you could smell the scent of smoke on them.  You sighed, knowing exactly who it was.  Anyone would think that the man who just sat down was just a heavy smoker- and he was, but not so much recently so he claims- but you knew better. 

He lifted his arm to rest his elbow on the bar, his chin resting in his palm as you felt him stare at you.  

You didn’t say a thing to him, only got a glass off the shelf behind you, mixed some coke with some rum and added a scoop of ice, before placing the glass on some napkins and sliding it towards him. 

“Like usual?” You asked, retracting your hand as he had already started to pick up the glass to sip on it. 

“Like usual,” he confirmed.  This particular man had a deep voice, always laced with a small rough sound- more rough when he’s tired or just plain exhausted.  It was a side effect of the smoking and other smoke-like quirks of his personality.  “You seem busy tonight.”

“We’re always busy on Fridays, nothing unusual about that.  It’s the start of the weekend, everyone wants to drink.” You threw your cleaning rag over your shoulder, shouting to a call of another bar sitting patron as you felt the black, clad, mask covered man’s eyes on your. “You gonna stick around all night, or are you gonna drink and go this time?” 

He pulled his mask down to uncover his mouth, dark scars showing under the hood of his jacket just long enough to take a sip, and pull it back over his face.  Setting the glass down, he let out a breath and circled his finger along the rim. 

“I think I’ll stick around, just to annoy you.” You could hear the smirk on his face as you held back an eye roll for professionalism’s sake. 

“How courteous, thank you so very much.” He chuckled at your reply as you left your place in front of him to tend to others paging you left and right. He pushed his curled hand into his cheek as he watched you pad back and forth behind the long bar.  You should be grateful he at least planned on paying tonight. 

He remained on his barstool the next few hours, only shifting to look around, take a short spin on the stool, or stand to stretch his hunched body before sitting back down.  Each time his glass was close to empty, you’d knock your knuckles on the bar top- a signal asking if he wanted a refill- and he'd either knock back or keep the glass away from you as a form of saying yes or no. 

Though, it wouldn’t be a proper Friday night mid-shift without something going wrong. 

You weren’t sure why, but when 2 am started rolling around, you always grew weary of your patrons.  It was the prime time for tipsy, or smashed, people to start trouble. Whether with you, or with other paying customers, or  even your employees.  Out of all options, you wished they’d pester you so you don’t have to deal with someone else being harassed.  Though, even when it did happen to you- which was often since your place was stuck behind a wooden, polished bar- you didn’t ever appreciate it. 

You glanced around the filled room and saw a few familiar faces of villains you had treated before who decided to stay in your good graces. 

Them being there did make you feel a bit better about you own safety since you knew if something were to happen, they’d jump up to throw down on your behalf, even if you could handle yourself plenty well. 

You were once again wiping down the wood of your bar for the gazillionth time this evening when some scumbag, a smashed man who was well over your age, stumbled his way to the bar and slumped himself into a stool and leaned over the counter like some hunchbacked gargoyle. 

He reached over the bar to start to fiddle with the beer spigots that lined the end of it. Before he could create a giant mess in the tray beneath them and onto the floor, you rushed over and slapped his hands away.  

Instead of hissing at your stinging slaps, he whistled at your actions to keep your property away from him grime hands as you rolled your eyes.  

“Sir, keep your hands off of the bar tools.” You reached over and grabbed the half empty bottle of beer from his hands before you poured the rest of the alcohol out of it and tossed it under the bar into the bin where it clinked together with the other beer bottles you’ve tossed tonight. “I’m cutting you off. Sober up, leave your payment and get out before I have you thrown out.” 

From down the bar, you knew the scarred man in black was watching you. Whenever this kind of scene went down, you could feel his and all the other familiar eyes on you.  For villains, they sure were people of action and debt. Made you feel bad for calling them villains- if you didn’t think about the crimes they most definitely committed on a day-to-day basis. 

The drunk man slurred what you assumed was probably something close to reluctance at you cutting him off for the night and your swift decision to kick him out after he paid what he owed.  

Persistently reaching over to try and yank on the spigots again, you once again slapped his hands away, going a step further and grabbing his wrists and tossing them away back over to his side of the bar. 

“I won’t ask you again, sir.” 

Your familiar scarred man set down his drink, the contents in it empty as the remaining, semi-melted ice cubes fell together in satisfying clinks against the glass. 

It was times like now where you wished the quirk laws would allow you to use your quirk publicly without a permit or license because of riffraff like this oh-so-lovely hammered gentleman.  You were one to break the rules anyways, so you would if push came to shove regardless and you knew that your customers would keep their mouths shut about it.  

You’ve gone many a night with bar fights and tassels and not a single cop was called because you could handle the situation yourself, or your trusty villain’s had your back. Your little pub and you were a bend in the rules with a great camouflage jacket over your head and trustful patrons willing to keep a secret or get so drunk they don’t remember what happened.  Either option suited you well. 

You weren't a hero, nor a villain.  You were in the middle- a civilian with some spare time and no interest in sharing what you did the time you're not running your pub. 

The man stood from his stool the moment you turned your back to him and not only did he shove his arm against three different beer spigots in a clumsy fall against the bar, but he partly climbed over the bar, reached towards you and yanked you back by your shoulder just so he could get a solid slap on your ass. 

The shriek you let out wasn’t loud, it was more of shock of what was happening, followed by instant disgust.  Your rear stung at the strength the disgusting man used to slap it before he was drunkenly laughing, his gross breath wafting towards you from his half climbed over body. 

Before you could take care of the situation yourself, he was yanked back off to his side of the bar onto his wobbly feet. The instant his feet hit the tile and his chin even twitched to look around to see what yanked him back, glass shattered across his face. 

The scarred man who had silently kept you company tonight- and previous nights before that- had grabbed the back of the man’s shirt, yanked him back and away from you as you righted the beer spigots that had already created a big enough mess and smashed his empty, rum glass against the side of his head. 

The drunk man hit the ground, grabbing and holding his head as blood dripped from the side of his face and ear.  The scarred man looked down at him, shaking his hand about, the purple scars of his wrist showing as he shook the limb.  The glass seemed to nick his palm a bit upon impact, but nothing compared to the nasty wound on the drunk’s face.  

As the drunk lay on the ground, groaning and bleeding, your defender bent to riffle through his pocket and nabbed his wallet.  Pulling out both a card and a wad of cash, he held both towards you. 

“What’s his tab?” His rough voice was stern as you just sighed.  

You plucked bills from his hand, a handful of twenties, before you put it into your pocket.  You looked around, seeing a table from the corner lift a bill in his hand before he waved it at you.  You nodded- they were signaling they had his bill.  They then held up four fingers and then a fist.  A four dollar tab.  You decided that you’d keep the extra as a bonus and maybe tip your workers as well for his behavior.  

“He’s good to go.” You said as the scarred man put the card back into his wallet and shoved it back into his jacket pocket.  He then picked the drunk off the tile and shoved him out the doors before making his way back to the bar. 

He stepped over his glass and ice mess as he toed at a larger piece of glass that used to be the bottom of it.  He then looked at you with a shrug. You could practically seem the smirk on his face before he spoke.

“My bad.” 

Instead of saying anything, you placed a small plastic tub on the bar top and slid it towards him. You flicked your eyes down and he just sighed.  Squatting, he picked up his mess of glass and ice the best he could before he gave the tub back to you to throw away.  You had already gotten a start on the beer mess that made your nose twitch at the stench.  

You always hated the smell of beer. 

“Smells like piss,” you muttered to yourself. The scarred man heard you loud and clear though and he stifled a laugh at your annoyance. Once you had it more or less cleaned, you glanced at the closed fist of the man’s cut up hand. You saw small beads of red drop onto your bar. You pushed a handful of napkins towards him to squeeze into his palm. “Come down when we close. We’ll get your hand properly cleaned up.” 

He didn’t argue. Just chuckled as he took a sip out of his water bottle you had placed in front of him as he shut the napkins in his grip tightly. 

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” 

-x-x-x-

4 am: closing time.  You sigh as you bid your final employee farewell before you locked the door behind them. You sighed as you walked back to the bar, untying your apron from your waist on the way.  You emptied the pockets and placed whatever was inside on the bar top.  There was only one person left in the bar, in the same stool he had been in all night.  

You thumbed through the bills in your pockets, rounding to behind the bar and unlocking the always locked money drawer just under the far end of the counter where a small card swipe sat for patrons not paying with cash.  

Tucking your cash safely away and locking the drawer shut you stashed the key on the keyring with all your other keys in the pocket of your jeans.  You pulled your phone from your back pocket and checked the time.  About half after now.  

“Okay,” you spoke, the man already standing. “Come around the bar and we’ll head down.” 

He followed your lead, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his large jacket with his hood still on even in the new found privacy.  You walked back into the kitchen and beyond to a small landing that had an unlabeled door and then a separate staircase leading upward past a different doorframe.  He looked up the stairs, knowing full well that beyond them lays your apartment.  

Part of him was envious that you lived in your place of work. Technically, he could live in his, but he had his own separate place of peace away for breathers. He could only deal with his comrades for so long in a single span of time. 

You unlocked the unlabeled door that you told everyone who asked was just a closet for your personal belongings that didn’t fit up in the apartment. Opening it, another set of stairs that lead down was beyond it. 

Descending them, the man followed and shut the door behind him. He locked it when it was shut at his back. There was a different entrance to the basement he was descending into outside the bar anyways for the people who knew it was there and needed it.  

At the bottom, you flipped on the lights to the large, open room.  It wasn’t a giant space, but it was large enough to move around and there was a sofa, a work bench you used as a counter for coffee and random objects, tables and chairs for your patients waiting comfortably.  There were two rooms off two of the left side of the main ‘waiting room’ and one to the right- all solitary rooms for overnight patients.  The furthest back room had no door and just past the frame was a storage room of medicine, wraps, gauze, antiseptics, salves- just whatever you could get your hands on. 

You’re even occasionally gifted treatment items from past clients in hopes to repay the debt they feel they may owe you.

You point towards the long, hard top operating table in the back as you make your way to one of the shelves on the wall.  You kept all the basic first aid out in the open since they were easy to replace.

“Go sit,” you direct as the man flipped off his hood and unzipped his jacket.  His white tank top was wrinkle from being inside the stuffy jacket all night and he adjusted his belt to sit comfortably and not pull on his belt loops to dig into his hips.  Ruffling his black hair, he made his way to the table to lean against it. 

You were soon in front of him, hand out towards him asking for his own to inspect.  

“You’re always causing some sort of scene every time you come by. You realize it’s getting old, right Dabi?” 

The face stapled, scarred pyro-villain just grinned down at you, chest jolting with a scoff of amusement as you pulled the blood beaded napkins he held in his hand since you gave it to him away. Then, you poked around with tweezers pulling small pieces of glass away from his skin.

“Don’t lie. You love when I come by. Besides, someone’s gotta keep you on your toes.” 

“I don’t need to be ‘kept on my toes’,” you tutted, making sure there were no pieces of glass left in his palm.  When there appeared to be none, you started dabbing the small cuts with antiseptic as he just kept leisurely leaning on your table.  “If you keep coming here and just to get all cut up, I’m going to start charging you for not only your drinks, but all the patching up I do to you too.” 

“Oh, you’d never,” he mused. He knew you all too well and he also knew that even if he were here daily for scratching his knee or getting a paper cut, you’d never have the heart to charge him anything when it came to treatment.  

Maybe he took advantage of that, maybe he didn’t.  

It didn’t help that he knew you had the hots for him- I mean, you did tell him about how you felt weeks ago; straight o his face no less. He just brushed it all off, knowing good and well that he and relationships in general just didn’t work out.  Besides, he was someone the public knew the face of and he wasn’t just someone to pass on the street and forget the face of.  

Dabi rejected you, you knew he would, but he let you down as easy as he could.  You just simply wanted to put your feelings out there so nothing would be awkward in the future.  It stung sure, but you felt more open with your feelings not bottled up in secrecy.

You wrapped his hand in gauze and called it good enough, placing all your things back where they were. Dabi looked at his hand, flipping it back and forth as he inspected how neatly you’ve gotten at wrapping bandages since the very first time. 

“Not bad,” he hummed. The first time he heard of you and came to get treated, you had to treat a nasty gash on his leg and you were clumsily with your bandaging since he was already covered in scars.  You were so confused on if you could cover them or not and if you did, if there was a special way.  You leaved quickly though. 

“Not like you could do any better.  You don’t really need any more stitches or staples than you already have.” 

“Don’t act like you don’t think they’re sexy,” he teased as he stood up straight, plunging his hands into his pants pockets as he began to follow you around the basement room to room like a dog.  You soon left your basement, going back up the stairs, opening the door and leaving before going up the second set of stairs leading up to your apartment.  

Dabi followed you the entire way with a shit eating grin on his face.  

You sighed as you unlocked your apartment door and looked over your shoulder and down to the burnt man just behind you on lower stair steps.  

“Do you need something?” 

“Yeah. Inside.” 

You cursed under your breath, going inside and him following knowing that you couldn’t argue him out of it.  He often did this, getting treated and then going up to your apartment.  In fact, there was a time when he would pick your lock and let himself in, so you ended up making him a copy so he could just stop doing it. 

He may not be good in relationships and definitely not looking for one, on top of rejecting you, but he could very well enjoy his evenings pestering you instead. they were two distinctly different situations.   

Kicking off his boots and fumbling with his jacket, he hung it on the coat wrack- not willing to be yelled at by you for making your home a mess with his junk again- and let himself in.  He immediately made a beeline for your living room and plopped himself on your couch like he owned the place and paid your bills.  

You had ventured to the kitchen before you went to the living room and tossed him something.  Catching it, he saw a poptart in his hand, still wrapped in it’s aluminum wrapping.  

“Eat. I’m taking a shower.” He shrugged as you turned and headed to shower as he flipped on your television and let himself finally relax. 

It was odd, being around you and in your home.  He didn’t even feel this relaxed and loose in his own apartment by himself.  Where he lived was nothing fancy and it was cheap, but it was his and the location was kept on the downlow just like he needed.  Spending time with the league was fine and dandy, but they could be so damned irritating sometimes, so he didn’t dare even try and nap at the base. 

He let his head fall back against the couch and he took deep breaths.  

On occasions like this, he did feel a bit guilty.  It’s not like he was actually taking advantage of your feelings or your kindness to do what he wanted, you were just  too nice for your own good and let him. Don’t get him wrong, you would scold him if he did something you didn’t like- like leaving his jacket on the floor- so it wasn’t like you didn’t want him here. 

Dabi could hear your shower running just barely under the sound of the tv’s noise.  Sometimes, he’d find himself thinking back to when you told him how you felt and how easily you accepted the fact he said no. 

He was just coming back from another stupid league mission and had a pretty nasty cut behind his left shoulder. You were cleaning the blood off his skin, trying not to snag your rags in any staples before you were smearing something onto the wound, making him sigh in of relief of the cooling sensation. 

It was when you were pasting a gauze pad on his shoulder and patching it on securely when you blurted out that you liked him. All he did when you said that was laugh at you, to which your silence that followed explained that you weren’t joking and were in fact serious.  He looked at you with a face you hadn’t seen before, a look of vulnerability for just a moment, before it shifted to one of seriousness. 

“I’m not interested. Sorry, doll.” You nodded at his quick rejection. Though you accepted it fairly easily, he could still see the slight furrow of your brow and dip in your lips with his rejection.  You may have even seen his rejection coming, but hearing it still had to be a blow to your heart. 

He was glad the relationship between you two hadn’t changed regardless of how you felt and how he said no.  You still put up with his bullshit and he still hung around like a fly you couldn’t smash under a flyswatter because it kept evading the strikes.  It was still comfortable here- in your place. 

Dabi stood from the couch, moving to your window only to lean out when he pulled his cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. You had really gotten on his ass once when you caught him smoking in the middle of your living room without a window even open.  You told him to smoke out a window, or go outside to contaminate his lungs claiming you dealt with the smell of smoke enough during bar hours. 

Flicking a small, blue flame with his index finger, he lit the stick and huffed.  Nicotine really accompanied his quirk- it was like he and cigarettes were just meant to be since he himself was a human-sized lighter.

He heard the door to your bathroom open and soon you stepped out with grey sweat and a cheap, cutoff shirt that just barely exposed your stomach on, towel drying your hair.  You looked at him, water still barely dripping off your eyelashes and hair strands untouched by the towel.  

“Glad to see you’re listening to me,” you told him as you nodded towards the smoke that he took a draw from.  He puffed the smoke out the window as he turned around to lean against the open pane.  His hand out the window to keep the crumbling ash from dropping inside.  

“I can behave sometimes too, you know.”

You scoffed at him, turning to grab a water bottle from your fridge in the kitchen and returning to the living room.  “Yeah, not likely.” You sat on the couch to mindlessly watch whatever channel the tv was on and once Dabi and finished smoking, he shut the window and rejoined you on the couch.  His arm was resting on the back of the couch as you had pulled out your phone and began to scroll through apps and occasionally looking back up to the tv. 

It was moments like this where the uncertainty really hit him.  

It was this- these comfortable situations- that frightened him.  He was a bad person, a person who’s done bad things and will continue to do bad things.  He used to sit around your apartment and bug you with questions.  Had you ever ratted anyone out? Were you really a completely secretive person when it came to your unofficial side job? Were you really someone to be trusted? Why did you do what you did in the first place? 

Now, he didn’t ask anything anymore. He grimaced at himself. Maybe he was letting himself get too comfortable here. 

“I’m going away for a while,” he suddenly blurted out.  You glanced up at him from your phone. 

“Have some big job or something coming up?” 

“Yeah,” he lied, “some league stuff I gotta deal with.” 

“Any idea how long you’ll be gone?” 

“No idea.  Probably a few weeks I bet.” Dabi couldn’t stop himself from lying to you and he got irritated at himself for feeling even the slightest bit bad for doing so. This was the only way though, the only way to try and get back to the rough, guarded villain he was supposed to always be.  

Dabi had to get away from you for a while. 

“Well,” you started, looking back down.  He looked at you, seeing you frown just a bit- he bit his cheek.  “Stay safe. If you need any patching up when you get back, you know where to find me.” 

He lowered his chin, his eyes lidding as he hardened his resolve. His decision was final, and he had to follow through with it.  He looked back to the tv, trying to bask in theses few final moments. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

-x-x-x-

Dabi’s irritated. He’s been irritated actually.  

He’s sitting at the bar, not your bar, but the bar in the league’s headquarters.  He sat slouched in a stool as Kurogiri- as usual- stood behind the bar.  The glass of some brown liquor that Dabi had nursed for the past hour started to taste like static to him.  He missed your bar’s liquor- the revelation made him more irritated. 

The entire reason he’s avoided going to your pub and always looked around corners in the city to make sure you wouldn’t bump into him by accident was so he could squash whatever the fuck he was feeling when he was around you down into dust.  Though, theses recent last couple days had proven that his plan was backfiring. 

Instead of forgetting what it felt like to be comfortable and content and relaxed, he was missing it.  He was missing the air of serene you always carried everywhere you went and he dared to say he yearned for it again.  

Dabi clicked his tongue as he pushed his forehead into his palm when Shigiraki had walked into the bar from wherever he had been before.  Seeing the hunched over excuse of a comrade, he groaned. The leader had often heard of your patchwork jobs for villains.  He himself had even met with you once- not for any injuries he had sustained, but for a simple meeting to exchange greetings with potential allies. Anything helped for his cause. 

Shigiraki also knew that Dabi often frequented your pub, and for whatever reason he hadn’t been recently.  His sour mood as of late paired with his lack of attendance to your business and attention was too easy to put together.  

“I’m really sick of you moping around here,” the leader complained.  Dabi lifted his forehead from his palm and glared across the room to the leader who now took a seat one stool away from Dabi. “Go be a killjoy somewhere else.” 

“Oh, piss off.” 

His mood began to spiral rapidly when Toga and Twice had come into the bar as well, coming back from wherever the fuck they had been.  Toga- trying her best to get on Dabi’s every nerve- was told by Kurogiri that his mood was unpleasant because he hadn’t been to a specific bar in town for some time now.  

Dabi felt offended that Kurogiri connected his bad mood to the bar and not you. 

“Maybe I should kick the crap outta you myself, so you can go back to what's-her-name and then maybe you’ll finally lose the attitude.” Okay, that one earned the hand-fetishist leader a growl from the pyromaniac. It only made Shigiraki scoff in a small victory, knowing that everyone around the league could see that his sour mood was solely revolving around you- or lack thereof.

Toga, ever on the hunt for new ‘friends’, immediately jumped at the idea of finally going to the mystery lady who heals everyone just because she has a kind heart.  An idea that Dabi shut down without so much as batting an eyelash. 

“But, why not!” Toga whined.  Dabi rolled his eyes.  Villain or not, Toga was just a high schooler with more than enough psychotic tendencies to warrant concern. If he had it his way- you’d never even get the chance to set your eyes on the blonde, twin-bunned psycho.  

The constant chartering centering in on him and you began to grate on his nerves and before long he was stomping up to his feet and out the bar door.  Shigiraki just scoffed as Toga pouted. Twice was simply mocking and jesting at the burned man who ‘just ran away’.  

Dabi had had enough.  He was going back to your pub- but it wasn’t going to be because he missed you.  He just wanted a drink in peace and fucking quiet. At least away from those idiots. 

-x-x-x- 

Dabi had slithered his way into your bar- pushing his way in with a group so that when you shouted from your place behind the bar to greet them in and to tell them to just find a seat, you wouldn’t recognize him. He had stopped by his apartment before making his way here to change into clothes he hoped you wouldn’t recognize him in either.  

The large, indigo tinted turtle neck he wore was way too large on his torso. The neck was horribly stretched out and pulled up as far as it could be to cover his jaw and mouth so that he didn’t have to wear the mask he knew you would recognize.. He traded his normal jacket with a different one he’d kept around for city crawling as he had it half way zipped up and the hood flipped up to hide his hair and scarred ears. Keeping his chin down, he used the shadow of his hood and the shadows the pub lights casted to keep the scars just under his eyes more or less out of sight.  

He grumbled at himself. Why was he going to such lengths to make sure you didn’t see him in the first place?   In the past, he wouldn’t have gone to the lengths to stay on the downlow in public like this; he would’ve just gone back home and crashed or drank alone or something of the sort.  You probably weren’t even under the impression he was back from the mission you thought he was on.

He slid into a booth in the back corner where he could still see you working behind the bar.  Pacing back and forth, talking and serving patrons and just doing your general work.  It felt strange seeing you work from all the way in the back instead of in his usual barstool, front row seat.  He bit his tongue when he caught himself almost missing his up close proximity to you. 

He was soon slid a bottle of beer- even if he didn’t really like the taste- as he nursed it.  He’d occasionally scan the bar to see what kind of business you had tonight.  When he wasn’t, he was scrolling mindlessly on his phone with glances up to the bar every so often.  He felt uneasy when you weren’t in his sights, even with you so close by.  

An hour after he had entered the pub, the doors had opened roughly enough to make tables turn their heads or hush up their conversations to see who had just made the racket coming in.  Dabi glanced, pulling his hood back just a bit to see past the fabric of it. 

A group of three men had walked into the pub.  Gruff looking fellas, but nothing all that special.  They started scanning the pub area, looking from tables, to faces, to chairs, all the way to the bar.  The flame user didn’t appreciate the snarl on the middle man’s face when his eyes landed on you busting the bar top with your rag.  

Shutting the door behind them, the three of them split apart, one heading towards the rec room and another heading in Dabi’s side of the bar. The middle man marched up towards the bar and instead of taking a seat- opted to lean on the bar between two already seated patrons.  They ended up leaving their bills and scurrying out of the joint. 

You took their payment and bit your tongue to keep from telling the obviously trouble-looking newcomer off for running off your customers.  In fact, you completely disregarded him.  

Once your bills were collected and placed into your apron pocket, you looked at the middle man leaning on the bar square in the eyes.  You held unamused eye contact with him for a beat before you shut your eyes and easily turned away from him. 

Clearly unhappy with the attention he so desperately wanted, he reached over the bar and yanked on the back of your work button up.  You let out a shocked, choked gasp as you dropped the glass you had in your hand.  The sound of shattering glass echoed around the pub as it became completely silent.  

Dabi jumped from his booth, standing at his table instead of leisurely sitting like he had been as he watched the man reach out for your shirt. He growled under his breath when he yanked you back towards him over the bar. 

This trouble-seeker was new to your pub, you could tell this the moment he came in with his two buddies.  He didn’t know of the amount of eyes on him now that he had gained the attention he wanted.  And he didn’t know how many of those eyes were villains ready to take him out. 

You coughed as he tried dragging you completely over the bar just by your shirt collar.  Your lower back pushed painfully into the wooden edge of the bar as your heels came off the floor, your toes being the only leverage you had left on your side of the bar top.  

You wanted to swing your elbow back and pop the son of a bitch in the nose, but you had to keep all ten of your fingers on the front of your collar to keep it from painfully pulling against your throat. You attempted to unbutton the top buttons for a window of breath, but you didn’t get the chance to before you were dropped.  

“Hey!” A voice you had recognized from a past medical visit came from behind you and the man yanking on your shirt.  He had groaned as he dropped you, your unsteady toes combined with your heels slamming back down to the floor and your spine dragging down the edge of the bar all made you drop to the floor.  You hunched over on the floor, gagging as you pulled on your shirt’s fabric away from your neck- the hemming all stretched out and well ruined by now.  

The bar felt like walls that encased around your slumped over body and you soon felt someone hop over the bar and rub your back.  Looking up with teary eyes from your lack of breath, you recognized the female criminal you had treated a handful of times before.  She soothed you behind the bar as it sounded like pure chaos erupted from beyond the bar. 

The short screams and shouts of whatever customer didn’t feel like fighting and fleeing.  you even heard your employees ducking out- as you instructed them to do when bar fights broke out. You did not want to feel out accident reports, so your rules of running when things get nasty was non-negotiable.

You were content to just stay sitting on the floor, catching your breath until the fighting was done.  You knew those who were fighting against the law were already defending you and your pub- they would take care of it.  

It was their safe space and these thugs had just tried disrupting that space. 

It was only when a plume of fire shot out from what looked like to be the back corner of your pub did you jump to your feet. Leaning against the bar with the villainess at your side, holding you to make sure you didn’t tumble over, you saw Dabi.  

“Dabi?!” You were shocked to see him. He hadn’t been around due to his work (so he told you), and you were confused on why he was here now.  Why was he wearing clothes you hadn’t seen before and when did he get here?  

He was quick to jump into the fray, mixing in with forces to drive the stupid thugs out of your pub, but not without beating them within an inch of their life first. Between tables being thrown, chairs knocked over, fire bursting then dispersing and fist and legs flying- it was hard to keep up with what was actually happening.  

What you did see though, was from the rec room someone coming out and pointing their fingers out towards your villains- your allies.  Their fingertips started to open and sharp, needle like tips were ready to be fired out of them.  

You climbed over the bar, the villainess calling out to you to not get involved.  You stumbled into a chair, holding yourself up as you shouted over the commotion. 

“Hey! Get behind a wall or table!” You pointed to the man under the rec room doorway.  “Don’t let whatever he’s gonna shoot out of his fingers hit you!” You were ready to duck back behind a table when you were shoved in the chest by the third man you saw enter with the thugs earlier.  He just appeared from no where it seemed when he struck you.

Knocking you into a nearby table, you slid onto it before it tipped and you tumbled off of it when it fell.  Groaning, you cursed under your breath.  You were getting really fucking sick of being pushed around tonight.  You got to your knees to get yourself back to your feet when you felt something push against your back and wrap around your shoulders, keeping you down. 

Whatever was keeping you down and covered was warm.  It covered your back and kept your shoulders encased.  Reaching up, it was an arm that wrapped around your and it was someone’s chest that pushed against your back.  Looking back you saw his scarred ears and neck before you saw his face. Not to mention the blast of burning blue that shot out opposite of his outstretched other arm.

“Dabi,” you gasped as you felt his body start to push more into yourself.  You whined, his weight beginning to crush you. “Hey, get off me,” you huffed.  

“Oh, you so owe me,” he chuckled before he fell against your completely. His arm dropped and the one that wrapped around you previous fell limp and released you. Rolling off to the side awkwardly to try and catch his fall to the tile, you saw a small needle sticking from his neck.  

“Oh, shit” you muttered.  Turning, you lifted a table to cover your back while the rest of the chaos kept going on behind you.  Pushing him onto his back, he was out cold.  Looking him over, you didn’t see any worrisome wounds on him- in fact he didn’t look wounded at all.  It was only that needle in his neck. “No doubt from that guy’s quirk,” you mumbled as you inspected it.  

Did he cover you so you didn’t get hit with the needle instead? You didn’t want to work yourself up into a frenzy at the thought of him taking a shot for you- but no matter how you looked at the situation, that was exactly what happened. 

It was a small, thin like a sewing needle with a ball point on the back of it.  Whatever this needle is coated in obviously knocked the pyro out.  You peeked over the table to see the same man ready to shoot a second round from his fingertips. 

“Take out the needle shooter! His needles will render you unconscious!” Your shouted leadership to take out one of the three low-level threats was clear and it was probably 20 minutes later when the three thugs were tied up and unconscious.  

You sighed, finally feeling safe again in your busted and destroyed bar.  You groaned for the umpteenth time knowing it was going to cost a fortune to get the tables repaired.  Not to mention the seared wallpaper that peeled from the previous heat and broken glasses, frames and damaged light fixtures.  You would have to close your doors for repairs for at least a month. 

As you looked around, you moved from your sitting position to instead kneel at Dabi’s side. 

“Can someone help me bring him downstairs? And lock the entrance.” Dabi was picked up and was soon being carried back behind the bar and through the doors, waiting for you to come unlock the way down as someone else had safely latched your pub doors shut. Your employees would understand if you just shot them a few texts.  

Before you went into the back, you pointed at the unconscious needle shooter.  “Also, bring him down too, but keep him tied up.  I need to know what his quirk is so that I know exactly why he did and how to treat it. Anyone else who needs treatment, you can come down too.” 

An hour later, you had Dabi’s unconscious body hooked up in one of your rooms to small machines to make sure he wasn’t dying.  Whatever the needle was- you concluded that it at least wasn’t poisonous.  You had taken it from his neck and had it run for tests.  It wasn’t coated in anything, but the tip of it had released a sort of potion into his body from where he had been stores in the ball point end; but you weren’t sure what it was.  

You moved away from your laptop on the small desk you had next to Dabi’s temporary bed.  You leaned your elbow against the wood and stared at him.  

“Until I figure out what exactly happened, I have no idea when he’ll wake up.” You frowned as worry began to churn in your stomach.  It eased you that his life didn’t seem to be in danger, but that didn’t really help anything else.  He was immobile and unresponsive until further notice as far as you knew.

You sighed getting up and searching for his phone.  Finding it in his jacket pocket, you plucked it out and began to go through his contacts.  You were glad you watched him punch in his lock code one day and held it in your memory. 

Finding a contact under ‘Childish Leader’, you immediately began to ring it.  You knew who Dabi worked under, and who this so called ‘childish leader’ was- you did meet with him one time after all.  When the line picked up, you were greeted with a sigh. 

“What,” a strained voice annoyingly greeted.  

“You’ll want to come to the location I’m about to send you,” you started. You swore you heard the frown and confused brow drip on his face when it wasn’t Dabi’s voice that was on the phone.  “Want to know what happened to Dabi? Then get your wrap quirked friend to get you over here, Shigaraki.” 

You quickly ended the call, letting out a shaky breath and feeling your heart pound in your chest. Dabi only ever really complained about Shigaraki, and you had only met hi that one time for general introductions, so you didn’t know much about him.  You hoped that just telling him what to do before sending him your coordinates would be enough to just get him to show up.  You’d deal with the rest later. 

You stood from your chair as you looked down at Dabi.  He always looked quite peaceful sleeping- it was odd since he was always scowling when he was awake. He’d smirk and tease, sure, but you don’t think you’d ever seen a real smile on his face before.  

You chuckled to yourself, touching his hair just once before you stopped- knowing he didn’t like you touching him like that.  He wanted to keep you at arms length because of your feelings and you knew that- so unconscious or not, you had to keep his wants at the forefront of your mind.  

A knock sounded at the door when you saw one of your allied villains come in.  “Some guys are in the bar, asking for you.  Some freak with a hand on his face and a gimp looking dude.”  You almost laughed at the villain's description. 

“Tell them I’ll be up in a moment.” The villain left as you looked once more at Dabi. You smiled down at him. “Thanks for the save, you reckless idiot.” 

-x-x-x-

Dabi groaned as he rolled from his back to his side.  He was only vaguely aware he was previously on his back ,which already annoyed him- he was not a back sleeper.  He peeked his eyes open and stared at the ceiling above him.  

That wasn’t his apartment ceiling? Sitting up, he rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes and taking a breath.  His head pounded and he opened his eyes back up to see the room he was in.  It wasn’t his apartment at all.  He was in a bedroom, but he hadn’t seen this room before.  

The last thing he remembered was jumping into a bar fight at your pub and then covering your back when that finger-freak tried shooting something out of his fingertip at you.  He didn’t even realize his body moved until he felt the needle meant for you dart into his neck.  

Rubbing at his neck, he felt no pain.  Getting up, he looked around the room.  

This room wasn’t yours- he’d seen it before- and it wasn’t anyone else’s he knew of. He wasn’t at the league HQ either, that run down place didn’t have rooms as well kept at this one. Surely you wouldn’t have pushed him off to some random villain until he woke up and this was some stranger’s room... right?   

After a moment, he started getting nosy. As he opened more drawers and books and notepads, he got more and more confused. These were all things he was interested in.  All the notebooks had his handwriting in them and his name was signed on papers and sticky notes scattered on a corkboard hanging on the wall.  The phone on the bedside table and he unlocked with his passcode and started going through it- it was all his information just like normal, but something was off. 

He felt off.  He looked at his palms, the scars he’s had since he was younger still showing on his skin.  Something nagged in the back of his head and he knew that he had to get answers and the best way to do that is to track you down.  

Grabbing a jacket and zipping it up to his chin and placing sunglasses on his face, he left the room that was filled with, presumably his own things, but definitely not his things. 

The roads and buildings all around were the same as he remembered.  However, when he came to your pub’s building, it looked different.  Shabby almost. Trying to go inside, the door was rusted and jammed. Jostling with the door wasn’t getting him anywhere and he knew if he tried to bust it down you’d have his ass on the wall for the damage.  

Looking up, he saw the window that lead into the living room of your apartment.  Walking around the building he started up the fire escape and carefully treaded the side of the building to the window before he shimmied it open from the outside and hopped inside. 

“What the fuck?” The apartment that was once filled with your furniture and belongings was empty.  Not just empty, but it was dusty, barren and isolated like no one had been in there for years. Jogging downstairs, he ran into the bar to find it the same way: empty.

No tables, no chairs, no booths.  No bottles lining the dusty shelves and no frames of art or recreational items in the rec room. it even still had the old, tacky wallpaper instead of the wallpaper he remembered. The stench of dust filtered through his nose and made his throat burn- it was apparent that the place hadn’t been aired out in years.  

Turning back, the door to the basement he had been in so many times wasn’t even there.  When he left the building to go to the basement the backway, the backway in didn’t seem to exist either.  It was like the basement he had spent so much time in with you patching him up was never there to begin with. 

“This is fucking crazy,” he mumbled as he pulled his phone from his pocket.  He wasn’t used to feeling whatever was bubbling in his chest.  It was painful, like caltrops tearing apart his stomach and chest as he searching for your number in his contacts.  He began to start walking back to where your apartment use to be, to go back inside the abandoned pub, when he dialed your phone.  He was soon stuck in his tracks when he caught sight of his reflection in a window.  

The window’s glass was cracked, barely held in place in the frame as he stared back at his reflection.  Reaching up, he ran his scarred hand through his hair. His hair that wasn’t dyed black; his hair that was as white as his mothers. 

“Where the fuck am I?” He breathed as he heard the monotone voice over the phone. 

-I’m sorry, but the number you have dialed does not exist-

[mint-yooxgi]

Mine - Slight Yandere!Wolf!Taeyong X Reader {M}

Slight Yandere!AU & Wolf!AU

Genre: Minor Horror, Smut (Breeding kink, Marking, Taeyong’s in a rut, what can I say), Minor Fluff, Mature, Slight Angst

Pairing: Taeyong X Reader

Words: 3,402

Warnings: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: For a certain someone, they know who they are~ Love you boo~ Enjoy~ Just a warning, this isn’t edited lol oops. As always, I do not believe Taeyong would act like this, this is just my interpretation of the archetype. He’s possessive in this one, too. Feedback is greatly appreciated, I hope you enjoy!

There will be no Part 2 to this.

The sound of the front door slamming shut alerts you that your boyfriend has returned home. It’s early in the afternoon and he had to go out briefly for a few things, but he’s back sooner than you thought he would be.

Walking out of the living room towards the front hallway, you round the corner to see him resting against the door, eyes closed with his whole body tense.

“You’re home early,” your brow furrows slightly as you notice he doesn’t seem to have anything he planned to get while he was out. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

He takes a deep breath as you take another step towards him, but you freeze in your tracks. In an instant his eyes are on you, a deep golden hue swimming within his irises.

“I ran into Donghyuk while I was out,” his voice is low, nearly a growl. “Well, I wouldn’t classify it as ‘ran into,’ more like overheard him talking.”

The look in his eyes is predatory, causing you to straighten up. Donghyuk is one of your closest male friends, and ever since you started dating, hell, even before that, Taeyong seems to have a problem with him. You’re worried he’s done something, considering you know your boyfriend to be a little bit more possessive due to his nature.

“Yeah?” You swallow, nervous as to where this is going despite not doing anything wrong.

“Couldn’t help but overhear him talking about you,” he begins stalking towards you, eyes dark as he stares you down. “Talking about how he’s always had a thing for you, shit like that. Took all I had in me to come back here instead of ripping his tongue out of his throat.”

His words cause your eyes to widen in surprise, which he notices. He smirks, coming to stand only a few feet away from you now.

“Don’t worry, you know I wouldn’t,” he assures you, but with the malicious gleam in his eyes, you’re not so sure he’s all that serious this time around.

“I’ll talk to him about it-“

“No,” he cuts you off with a growl, hands clenching into fists at his sides as his heated gaze locks with yours. “I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

“Taeyong, you can’t keep me away from my friends, that’s not how this works,” you begin to say, frown pulling at your features.

“I know,” he huffs, turning his head to the side briefly, his chest starting to rise and fall more rapidly, as if he’s having trouble breathing. You fail to hear his muttered ‘doesn’t mean I won’t try.’

The way he’s acting concerns you. Even though you know he can get jealous quite easily, you’ve never seen him this worked up in such a short amount of time. From the looks of things, he’s started visibly shaking, which makes you nervous for him. The full moon isn’t due for another week, so you’re not quite sure why he’s acting like this.

“Baby, you need to calm down, you’re worrying me,” you take a step towards him to close the distance between the two of you and gently place a hand on his shoulder.

It’s as if in that instant a switch has been flipped, and all restraint Taeyong has been holding onto has been thrown out of the window. His eyes lock with yours once more, flashing a deep gold as he slams you against the wall, burying his face in the side of your neck and taking a deep breath.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” he says, completely ignoring your statement.

“Taeyong,” you place your hands on his chest, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him. You know your boyfriend usually runs hot, but this is completely different. Your brow furrows in worry, “you’re burning up.”

“The only thing burning in me is my desire to fill you up with my pups,” he growls out, sending a shiver down your spine. “Maybe then people will know you’re mine.”

You can’t help the small whine that escapes your throat at his words. Oh, so that’s why he’s acting like this. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Princess?” He grins, turning his head slightly to look up at your face. His hair tickles your neck as you swallow hard. “Me fucking you full of my come until the only thing you can think of is me.”

You’ve only experienced his rut once before, just before the two of you became an official couple. He warned you to stay away from him for that week, and you did. After the two of you got together, you asked him to explain it to you, of which he told you that he tends to get extremely hot during this time, amongst other things.

“Fuck, you’re ovulating, too,” he takes another deep breath, lips parted against the skin of your neck as he presses you further into the wall. You can feel every breath he takes ghost over your skin, his grip tight on your waist. “Perfect timing for you to have my pups.”

You inhale sharply at his words, heart fluttering in your chest. You never imagined his words would have this type of effect on you, and from the looks of it, he can tell you like the idea too.

You can feel his hand sliding down your waist, moving to grip your thigh as he wraps your leg around his waist. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel him press against your core, grinding into you firmly so you can feel everything.

“Like I said,” he takes another deep breath, nose twitching as your scent starts to overcome him, “you smell so good.”

With those words he smashes his lips to yours. Swiping his tongue along your lip, you allow him access, letting out a small whine as you feel him bite your bottom lip as he pulls away briefly. He doesn’t even need to tell you to jump, for you do on your own. You can feel his grip holding your thighs tightly as he continues to grind into you, moving to trail his lips against the skin of your neck.

Another gasp escapes your lips as you feel him bite down on a particularly sensitive area. You can feel the rumble of approval that shakes his chest as he pulls aways briefly to take in your slightly disheveled state, licking his lips as he looks over the mark he’s just given you.

“Come on, Princess,” he grins as he watches you attempt to catch your own breath, “let’s take this to the bedroom.”

Pulling away from the wall with you still in his arms, he begins to make his way upstairs. He can hear your heart pounding with every step he takes, your scent growing stronger with each passing second. His own heart races in his chest as his senses go on overdrive, filled with everything you. He can’t wait to please you, to fuck you nice and deep so that you can barely walk tomorrow. Tonight, he’ll make you his, as many times as he wants.

Placing you gently onto the bed, he climbs on top of you, attaching his lips to yours once more. He sets a steady pace as he continues to grind into you, making you feel every inch of his clothed cock with every movement he makes.

“You feel that, baby girl?” He groans, eye closing slightly in bliss as he feels you kiss down his neck. “That’s all for you.”

“Shit,” you curse as you feel his hands sneak underneath your shirt, trailing up your skin and lighting a fire in their wake.

Sitting up slightly, you allow him to remove your shirt, hearing him let out a growl of approval at seeing that you’re not wearing a bra.

“So beautiful,” he hums, cupping your breasts in his hands and running his thumbs over your nipples.

A sigh of his name slips past your lips, and it’s like music to his ears. So much so, that he wants to hear more. No, he needs to hear more.

Leaning down, he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before swirling his tongue around the pert bud. He allows his other hand to fondle your other breast, tweaking your nipple between his fingers and hearing you let out another moan. Shortly after, he moves his mouth to the other side, making sure to give your opposite breast the same amount of attention.

“Gonna make you mine,” he mumbles against your skin, kissing his way back up your chest and to your neck. “All mine.”

Slipping your hands beneath his shirt, he takes the hint, taking it off before tossing it somewhere in the room. He lets out a content hum as he feels your hands trail over his bare chest, revelling in your touch as his eyes flutter closed for a moment.

A smirk pulls at his lips as he feels you attempting to flip the two of you over.

“I don’t think so sweetheart, not tonight,” he tells you, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand. “Tonight is all about you.”

After all, if you’re to have his pups, he’s going to pamper you like never before. Before that though, he wants to make you as desperate for him as he is for you, and with his hormones influencing him, his need for you has just been amplified tenfold.

Trailing his lips back down your body, he parts your legs with his hands, settling between your thighs. He licks his lips, eyes blown wide with lust as he rips your pants off, followed by your panties.

The full force of your arousal hits him square on, a deep growl sounding from his chest as he breathes in your scent deeply. He can’t help but allow his eyes to flash gold once more, his whole body beginning to shake as he lowers himself down so that he’s now face to face with your gleaming entrance.

“Princess, fuck, you smell so good,” he takes another deep breath, locking eyes with you in the next moment, “but I know you taste even better.”

Without another word, he brings his mouth to your core, licking a strip from your entrance all the way to your clit. He hums has he hears the sigh of his name leave your lips, grip tightening on your thighs as he buries himself between your legs.

Your hand immediately flies to his hair, tugging the silver locks between your fingers as he sucks your clit into his mouth. He hums around you, and you can feel the vibrations through your core.

Shifting slightly, he adjusts his position so that he can spread your lips apart, giving him unrestricted access to what he craves most. His tongue laps up your juices as they spill from your entrance, feeling them starting to drip down his chin. The only thing is, he wants more.

In an instant, he’s trusting his tongue into you, moaning from the taste of you on his tongue. He eats you out like a man starved, and when it comes to you, he’s insatiable.

Moving his hand slightly, he uses it to rub at your clit as he continues to make-out with your entrance, loving the way you clench around his tongue. God, he can’t wait to feel you clenching around his cock as he makes you come for him over and over again. When he’s done with you, you’re going to be full of him - his come, his scent, his everything. A fact which makes a shiver run down his spine.

Looking up at you, he’s careful to watch every expression you make, loving the way your face contorts in pleasure the longer he keeps at this. He can tell you’re getting close, for your moans have started increasing in volume and are becoming more frequent. He starts grinding against the mattress, seeking any sort of friction against his member straining in his jeans. Seeing you like this, at his complete mercy just drives him insane.

Licking back up to your clit, he harshly sucks on it once more, swirling his tongue shortly after to coax your orgasm out from you. His gaze is piercing as he sees your body jolt, shaking while your back arches as you come for him with a loud moan of his name.

It’s as if he’s in a daze. Your scent surrounds him as he feels your skin beneath his fingertips. He doesn’t stop, continuing to lick and suck at your clit to help you ride out your orgasm for as long as possible. Again, he wants more.

“Yongie,” you pant, attempting to push his head away from you. The sensations are becoming too much for you to handle at the moment, but he doesn’t seem like he’s going to relent any time soon. You choke on a breath, “too much.”

His heart absolutely flutters at the nickname you’ve given him. It’s one of his favourite ones, and it drives him crazy every time you use it, for it just makes him know that he’s yours as much as you are his.

Ever so slowly, he pulls his mouth away from your core, turning his head to nip at the skin of your thighs. He lets out a low chuckle as he hears you whine, loving the way your body reacts to his every touch.

Making his way back up your body, he kisses you deeply once more, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. He can feel your hands fumbling with his belt, fingertips ghosting over his lower stomach as he feels his cock twitch in his jeans. Pulling away from you for a moment, he bites his lip, staring into your eyes and searching for any signs of discomfort. Despite everything, he still wants to make sure you’re okay, and that he’s not pushing you into anything you don’t want.

Given the whine you let out in frustration at not being able to get his pants off, he knows there’s no hesitation on your end. A fact which makes him smirk. Looks like he’s not the only one impatient to have you fucked out and filled with his come.

“Yongie, please,” you whimper, voice desperate and slightly frustrated.

“Please, what, Princess?” He grins teasingly, loving that he can watch you squirm as he shifts to take his pants off, followed shortly by his underwear. He’s quick to hover over you once more, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock. It’s taking everything in him right now not to thrust into you and pound you into the mattress. “Come on baby girl, tell me what you want. Use your words.”

He can feel your body heating up in slight embarrassment as he places kisses along your neck once more. Smirking to himself, he hears you take a shaky breath as he continues to tease your entrance with the head of his cock.

“Yongie,” you mewl right into his ear, sending a shiver down his back, “please fuck me.”

“Shit,” he groans, pushing into you immediately, making you gasp. 

He’s breathing heavily once more, body shaking as he wills himself to stay still until you give him the all clear to move. As soon as you nod your head, he begins to move, setting a ruthless pace as his hips snap into yours. 

“Gonna fuck you nice and deep,” he growls out. “Gonna fill you full of my come, it’ll be dripping out of you for weeks.” A moan of his name is all he receives in response, your nails digging into his back as he thrusts into you. “You like that, huh, Princess? You want to carry my pups, don’t you?”

“Fuck, yes,” you manage to get out, feeling your body jolt with every thrust he makes into you.

His cock twitches at your words, “say it.”

“I want you to fuck me, Taeyong-“ your breath hitches as he hits a spot deep within you, “fill me with your come.” You moan, “make me yours.”

Something within him snaps and he begins pounding into you with a newfound fever. He can feel himself becoming more feral with every passing second he spends with your delicate walls wrapped around him. Not only that, but your words, combined with your scent, mixed with the sounds of your moans is driving him insane. The only thing on his mind now is fucking you, and filling you to the brim with his come, marking you as his.

“Fuck, baby girl,” he snarls, biting down hard on the side of your neck. “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you immediately echo into his ear, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders as you attempt to bring him closer to you.

He can tell he’s getting closer to the edge with every thrust, but he knows he has to see you come one more time before he does. Reaching down between your bodies, he uses his thumb to circle your swollen clit, eyes sparkling as he sees your head thrown back in pleasure. From the way your walls are squeezing him so perfectly, he can tell you’re almost there.

His mind begins to cloud over as every single one of his senses is overcome with you, the urge to claim you once and for all becoming stronger with each passing second. You’ve talked about it briefly before, but he doubts you remember the conversation, for it’s been so long since you had it.

Snarls escape past his lips as he works you both to completion, and he finds he can no longer control himself. Just as he feels you tipping over the edge, he licks a strip up your neck, sinking his teeth into your neck in the next moment.

With a loud cry of his name, your orgasm crashes into you. The feeling of his fangs in your neck causes you to let out a scream in pleasure, your whole body convulsing as you feel him still within you. In the next second, you can feel his warm come painting your inner walls, a dull throbbing coming from your neck.

Detaching his mouth from your neck, he hears you whimper slightly. Lapping at the wound, he pulls back slightly to look down at it while rocking his hips into yours, making sure none of his come leaks out of you. Finally, with you laying back on the pillows, panting beneath him, you are his in every meaning of the word.

“Did you just-“ your voice pulls him out of his daze-like state as he shifts his gaze to yours only to see you trying to look down at your mark. His mark. 

A growl of approval rumbles in his chest, “yes.”

“Oh,” you whisper as you feel him pull out of you slowly, carefully. 

He’s starting to feel nervous, even though he knows in his heart that what he did was the right thing. He did what he had to do, and now this will ensure that everyone knows you’re his. However, you don’t seem too pleased at the moment.

“Princess, I-“ he begins to say, but stops himself once he sees you smiling at him.

“It’s okay,” you say, and you can see him visibly relax. “It was bound to happen sooner or later, right?”

He blinks a few times, “right.”

He’s only planning to spend the rest of his life with you, of course he’s going to mark you as his, and now you’ll be carrying his pups, too.

“I love you,” he says, laying on his side beside you on the bed as you turn to face him. “So much.”

“I love you,” you smile back at him as he leans in to kiss your forehead. 

You can feel the stickiness of the events you’ve just done dripping onto your thigh, so you go to get off the bed to clean yourself up. However, before you can move, Taeyong has you pinned beneath him once more.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” He asks, eyes swimming with that familiar darkness you saw only moments ago.

“To clean myself up?” You answer, though it comes out more of a question.

“I don’t think so,” he growls out. “I’m not finished with you yet."

[lunatens]

take a break

-

requested by anon <3 im sorry this took so long!! i hope u enjoy (i also hope u like dogs lol)

prompt: “don’t be sorry, it was...actually kinda cute”

*part of my 2 years with luna event!

word count: 1.6k

genre: fluff, slice of life au

pairing: lee felix x gn reader (ft. roommate/bff jisung lol)

“are you ever gonna stop staring mindlessly at your laptop?” jisung asks as he enters the kitchen of your shared apartment. you glare at him through tired eyes, and he raises his hands in defence. you’ve been sitting at your kitchen table for god knows how long just trying to get work done, but you’ve been feeling stuck for the past hour or so and you’re starting to feel the effects of sitting and staring at a screen all day. 

“you know, it’s probably a good idea to take a break at some point. you know, get up and walk around, maybe go outside for once,” jisung says as he starts making a bowl of cereal. 

“but i just have sooooooo much work to do,” you groan, rubbing your hands over your face in defeat. jisung sets the milk carton down with a bit too much enthusiasm, the loud sound startling you.

“that settles it. y/n, you are banished from this apartment until you go outside and take a walk or something,” jisung declares.

“you’re not my mom, i don’t have to listen to you. besides, i pay half the rent here,” you argue. 

“fair enough. but nothing’s stopping me from finishing your cereal,” jisung says as he grabs the box of your favourite cereal and dumps the remainders into his bowl.

“jisung, what the hell!!! i was gonna eat that later,” you pout, now in an even worse mood than before. you love your best friend, but god he can be obnoxious at times; he’s honestly more of a brother to you, and you haven’t decided if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. right now, you’re leaning more towards the bad. 

“oops, sorry. guess you’ll have to go get more,” jisung says as he shovels a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, clearly proud of himself. you get up with an exaggerated sigh, closing your laptop and dragging yourself to your room.

“okay fiiiiine, i’ll go outside, happy?” you ask. jisung nods, cheeks full. your eyebrows furrow as you realize something. “hold up, did you pour the milk before the cereal??”

“yep. oh by the way, we’re also out of milk,” jisung says, shaking the empty carton for emphasis. you blink at him, needing to mentally question your friendship with the boy for a moment. deciding he’s worth keeping around, you turn to grab your wallet and pull on a jacket and some shoes as you prepare for the great outdoors. aka a ten-minute walk down the street to the nearest store. 

“i’ll be back,” you call behind you. 

“love you!” jisung calls before you close the door on your way out. you make your way down to the street, shoving your hands in your pockets as you’re hit with the brisk air. you squint in the bright sunlight, taking a moment for your eyes to adjust to the scenery. it’s the middle of the day, so the streets aren’t overly busy; some pedestrians are scattered about the sidewalks, and cars and bikes pass by as you walk down the street. you inhale deeply, realizing the fresh outside air is helping you feel slightly less dead inside; okay, maybe jisung was right to make you go outside, but you’ll never tell him that. 

you pass by the nearby park and decide to walk through it instead of around it like you usually do. it’s a little longer this way, but it’s such a nice day out and the scenery is too pretty to pass by. plus, a lot of people walk their dogs here and you could use a furry friend to cheer you up. 

as if on cue, the moment you enter a park a large ball of golden fur barrels right into you, knocking you to the ground. the dog stands over you, tail wagging enthusiastically as it tries to lick your face. you giggle as your hands come up to gently push the dog away, appreciating the affection but not the slobber so much. you sit up and the dog stands beside you, eager to accept your hands scratching its ears. 

“where’s your owner, huh?” you ask, the baby voice you use when talking to animals coming out. 

“i’m so sorry!!!!” you hear in the distance, and you turn in the direction of the voice to see a boy running towards you, out of breath. “bbokari, come here!!” he calls, and the dog happily trots over to the boy. “oh, so now you listen,” he scolds as he puts it on a leash. he walks over to you, sticking out a hand to help you up.

“i’m really sorry about that oh my god, she’s normally really well behaved when i let her off-leash!” the boy apologizes as he pulls you to your feet. 

“don’t be sorry, it was...actually kind of cute. i really love dogs,” you reply with a friendly smile, brushing yourself off and hesitantly letting go of his hand. now that you’re more at eye level with the stranger and his dog is no longer a distraction, you can’t help but notice how cute he is. despite the chilly weather, he seems to radiate a warmth that almost rivals that of the sun. his freckled cheeks are slightly rosy from the crisp air, and his eyes crease when he flashes you a bright smile. 

“oh that’s good, she really seems to love you!” he says. you look down to see bbokari’s happy face, tongue lolling around and tail wagging enthusiastically as she stares up at you practically demanding to be pet more. of course, you oblige, reaching down to bury your hands in her soft fur. 

“well, thanks for letting me pet your dog; trust me, this really made my day,” you tell the boy as you stand back up straight. you’re about to continue walking, but the boy interrupts you before you get very far, jogging a little to catch up to you. 

“wait!! i’m walking this direction too, mind if i join you?” he asks.

“not at all,” you tell him, a warm feeling starting to bubble up inside you. he gives you another one of his friendly smiles, and you think you might melt at the sight.

“so, you come here often?” he asks, and you can’t help but giggle at the question.

“sorry, i’ve just never seen you here is all,” he explains shyly.

“i used to walk through here all the time on my way to the store, but i’ve been so caught up in work recently that i didn’t want to take the extra time to come here,” you explain. 

“what made you change your mind today?” the boy asks.

“my dumb roommate said i needed to get outside and take a break from work, and it’s such a nice day out i thought it would be refreshing for a change of scenery for once. plus i always love the chance of seeing a dog or two,” you say, smiling down at bbokari. “and also he finished my milk and cereal so i kinda need to go get more,” you add.

“well, i’m glad you listened to your dumb roommate,” the boy says, a little shy at the comment but smiling nonetheless. “it’s really good to take a break and enjoy the fresh air, especially on days like today.” he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

you humm in agreement, admiring how content he looks as you walk under the trees together, sunshine filtered through bare branches before landing on your faces. you quickly look away when he opens his eyes again, hoping he didn’t catch you staring.

you continue making small talk as you walk along the path, however it’s not too long before you reach the end. you’re sad to have to leave this stranger behind, and you wish you could walk together at least just a little bit longer.

“thanks for walking with me, uh…”

“felix! i’m felix,” the boy tells you. 

“thanks for walking with me felix,” you say with a genuine smile. “i’m y/n, by the way.”

“y/n! it’s the least i could do after my dog bowled you over,” felix apologizes. “and if you ever need another break i uh, i walk bbokari around this time every day and we could always use some company,” he tells you, cheeks a bit redder than they were before. 

“then i guess i’ll see you two tomorrow,” you say. felix’s face lights up at your response.

“cool! cool, yeah, i-we’ll see you tomorrow y/n!” he says, and you wave your goodbyes before you head off towards the store and felix turns back into the park. it doesn’t take you long to buy your food, feeling much less bitter towards jisung now. on your walk home you can’t help but hope you’ll run into felix and bbokari again, but there’s no sign of them as you pass through the park. 

--

“someone’s in a better mood,” jisung teases from the couch as you walk through the door, your giddy smile still apparent on your face. “so are you gonna admit i was right?”

“never in a million years,” you say as you put the milk and cereal away. “i just ran into a cute...dog, that’s all.” you tell jisung. as you get back to work, you find your thoughts drifting to a certain boy and his dog; honestly, you aren’t sure which one’s cuter, but all you know is that you can’t wait to take another break tomorrow.

[venomous-ko]

Wine Drunk while watching Godzilla vs Kong

Some major spoilers up ahead!

Mans really just annoyed the shit out of his coworker until he left so he could hack shit, huh?...I love it! 🤣🤣

——————————————

You mean to tell me that the explanation for why Godzilla attacked the one tech company site by the dude who studied Kaiju communication and behavior for a living is just, “sometimes people (and creatures) change”???? Like some dumbass justifying a toxic person/relationship??? Like excuse me???? Why are the literal teenagers making more sense than you?????

Also, we’re all in agreement that this facility is either housing Ghidora’s dead head, Mecha Godzilla, or Mecha Ghidora, right?!?

——————————————

Lol! “Apex Cybernetics!” That’s not foreshadowing! 🤣

——————————————

Apparently, I didn’t get my fill of white nonsense from Falcon and Winter Soldier, bc someone decided to put this blonde-hair-blue-eyed little bitch in charge! That’s not ganna go wrong somehow. 🙃😑👀

Like this bitch literally wanted to send a fucking child into unexplored hollow earth territory without a second thought! 🙃🙃🙃🙃 I was literally like 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕 for that entire convo.

——————————————

I’m sorry! This conspiracy man just met these teenagers, and his first impulse was, “yeah, theses seem like some good people to break into a tech conglomerate with!” 🤣🤣🤣🤣

——————————————

Why are these people surprised Kong knows sign language? These are people who study Kaiju (and presumably other animals in order to draw conclusions about certain behaviors) for a fucking living!!! We have primate species that recognize and communicate in sign language already! Why is this surprising???!?! Like...has NO ONE except this precious child tried this????

Also, nothing bad better happen to this child.

——————————————

That ship literally fucked around, and Godzilla let it find out! Lmao!

——————————————

Kong: Hey, Godzilla...look at me...

Godzilla: >:[

Kong: ...bitch.

——————————————

Precious girl: Thank you, friend 🧏🏽‍♀️

Kong: ☺️😴

THIS GIRL IS TOO PRECIOUS!!!!

——————————————

Bitch-ass White Man: How’s Kong with heights?

BITCH, you really ganna try that?!?! You really think you ganna find any aircraft(s) that are ganna be able to support all that weight?? Never mind any other problems with Kong trying to nope the fuck out of that situation and all kind of other hosts of problems!

And if you do somehow have one (or multiple) WHY TF DIDN’T YOU USE THAT BEFORE KNOWING FULL AND WELL YOU RAN THE RISK OF GODZILLA MERCING KONG’S ASS IF YOU TRAVELED VIA SHIP!?!?!?!

——————————————

Down the Hell Naw tunnel we go!

——————————————

“I think it’s romantic,”

I fucking love Millie Bobbie Brown’s character!! 🤣❤️🤣

——————————————

WHY IS THIS TEENAGER SMARTER THAN EVERYBODY OMG!!!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

——————————————

“This is page one in the ‘Playing God’ handbook, right?”

I’ve decided I love this character! 🤣

——————————————

WHY YOU GETTING INSIDE THAT THING—Oh god! 😨 Why y’all got eggs!?!? This is like if Weyland-Yutani succeeded in getting Xenomorphs! 😬

——————————————

Oop! Locked in! THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T HIDE OUT IN MYSTERIOUS ROOMS!!!!

——————————————

Oh shit! Apex Cybernetics think they on that Wakanda shit now!

Also, why was that one Apex Cybernetics bitch bitching about how one of those HEAV crafts could power Vagas for a week if y’all clearly have a whole network or transportation using this tech!

And I never understood how tech companies kept that shit to world domination shit! Build a public transportation system with that shit! Boss man said he likes ideas that make him rich! Pretty sure that would do the trick!

——————————————

WINE BREAK!!!

Saving the rest of the last bottle for coking Gumbo, so gotta open up a new bottle

——————————————

Aw, Kong is so sick of this bullshit! 😂😭

——————————————

“It’s not working”

Bruh! Give it more that two seconds!

——————————————

HOW DARE Y’ALL USE KONG’S LOSS AGAINST HIM!!!! HOW DARE Y’ALL!!!

——————————————

HEAV go Brrrrrrr Shoooooooooooom!!!!

——————————————

LMAO!!! Monarch has their own brand of bottled water!?!?! Idk why that amuses me so much!

——————————————

This hallow earth portal thing is some Pacific Rim bullshit right here, lol!

——————————————

NYOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM

——————————————

Are we...are we really Ice Age: Dawn of Dinosaur-ing this shit rn??? 😂😂😂

——————————————

“It’s beautiful,”

Of course it’s beautiful! No hoomins have touched it! Lol

——————————————

Y’ALL GOT FUCKIN DRAGONS IN THIS BITCH!?!?!?!!! 8D YO!!! SIGN ME THE FUCK UP!!!!

——————————————

*marvels at the creature creation ideas*

——————————————

Kong’s first thought: *nom the dragon guts*

——————————————

THE ROCK HAND OMG IM GANNA CRY!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 It’s the same gesture the Precious Girl did OMG!!!!

——————————————

“We going in?”

“Yeah”

The BALLS on this child!

——————————————

“AAAAHH 😐”

*fear*

LMAO!!!!! I’M FUCKIN WHEEZING!!!

——————————————

“Sacrifice Pit”

OMG 🤣🤣🤣

——————————————

I KNEW IT!!!! MECHA-GODZILLA MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!!!! 8DDDDD

——————————————

YO PACIFIC RIM RAN SO MECHA-GODZILLA COULD FUCKIN SPRINT!!!!!!!!

——————————————

YO IT’S A GOOD THING I AIN’T SEEING THIS IN THEATERS BC I’D BE FLIPPING MY SHIT!!!!

——————————————

“Humanity, once again, will be the apex species,”

THERE it is!

——————————————

Why Mecha-Godzilla so skeeny?!? He need ta be thicc if he ganna take down REAL Godzilla!

——————————————

*Ryan Bergera conspiracy voice* Is this the real reason Kong was contained!? So this douche could snatch up Skull Crawlers without Kong intervention???

——————————————

OH SHIT!!! I think this thing is emitting alpha waves (or whatever we’re calling it) and THAT’s what set Godzilla off!!! He fought Ghidorah, heard this shit and went, “Nu-uh, bitch! NOT AGAIN!!!”

——————————————

Monarch dude: Yo, Godzilla’s headed to Hong Kong for some reason?

FUCKIN CALLED IT!!!

——————————————

This look like the door to fuckin General Grievous’s lair,da fuq?!? 🤣🤣🤣

 ——————————————

I got waaay too emotional over that handprint, y’all! 😭😭😭

——————————————

Y’all, the fucking art history major in me is fuckin screaming at this temple scene! The fact that some of these Kaiju not only had the urge and drive and capacity to build a fucking temple around this power source or some shit and create weapons like the axe that Kong just fucking Excalibured the shit out of that one skull crawler’s skull fucking implies the fact that there is intelligent civilization amongst these fucking Kaiju and all that shit! I want to know more about this shit! Take that you fucking racist-ass white historian motherfuckers!

(Note: I definitely needed to use talk to text for much of this bit, because there was no way I was going to be able to contain all my excitement in just typing, alone, lmao)

——————————————

BRUH!!! Why y’all exiting g the HEAV without no breathing apparatus or lead suits or nothing!?!?! In previous movies, y’all implied that these Kaiju lived in environments in which their environments were hella radioactive compared to our own!!!

——————————————

Kong is s the true heir to the iron throne, Lmao!

——————————————

FUCKING CALLED IT!!!! THEY HAD GHIDORA’S REMAINS IN THERE SOMEWHERE!!!!

——————————————

OH FUCK!!!! Y’ALL AINT JUST SENDING OUT ALPHA VIBES WITH YOUR MECHA-GODZILLA!!!! YOU SOMEHOW USING GHIDORA’S HIVE MIND OR TELEPATHY SHIT TO DO IT!?!?!?! AAAWWWWW SHEEEEEET!!! Y’ALL ARE BONED NOW!!!! FUCKIN BONEROWNED!!!!

——————————————

Godzilla! My bruh! My dude! You didn’t HAVE TO get up right where that bridge was!!! 😂😂 Ya douche bag!!!

——————————————

At the same time, tho, I can just hear him going, “Ah! FUCK! NOT AGAIN!!! Sunova bitch!! Motherfuckin!! STOP BUILDING sHIT SO DAMN HIGH!!! Goddammit!”

——————————————

You know, with all the Bright twinkly lights in Hong Kong, I can’t help but think of the sequel to the original Gojira movie ( that I can’t remember the title of ,rn) where he was fucking triggered by fucking lights. And I wonder if this little scene where he’s stomping all through Hong Kong is a tribute to that or whatever. But I’m probably overthinking it.

[Sober Edit: it was Godzilla Raids Again]

——————————————

*GASP* HOLY SIHIIIT!!! The axe is made out of Godzilla skute!?!?! GOLY BALLS THAT’S NOT ONLY COOL BUT CONTRIBUTES MORE TO THE FACT THAT THESE KAIJU (likely Kong’s species, in particular) WERE REALLY FUCKING INTELLIGENT AMD TJOUGHT, “Imma beat this muthafucka with their own spiky thing! Bc that’s what screws us over, so, why WOULD’nt it hurt them!?!” I need SO MUCH MORE of this Kaiju/Kong culture studied and shit! HOLY FUCK!!!

It even fucking glows!! Like ... they managed to fucking piece together that its glow was a fucking warning sign like Sting or some shit!!!! Holy fuck!!!!

Also, how does that work? How are the skutes still connected even after dismemberment???

 ——————————————

NO FUCKIN WAY WRE YOU—AAAAAAAAHHH!!! Excalibur that shit my boi!!!!

——————————————

I FUCKIN LOVE YHIS MOVIE HOLY SHIT!!!

——————————————

“ that’s Apex property now,”

Excuse me bitch! Are we really not gonna listen to the scientist who saying “hey we don’t understand the shit out of this fucking power! Maybe we should hold off on taking some fucking samples!”

Are we really just gonna ignore that shit???????

 ——————————————

Kong said: TRY ME BITCH!!!!

——————————————

Oh thank the GODS this Serizawa dude is taking precautions like his old man! Also, what is his relation to Ken Watanabe’s Serizawa!?!?!

——————————————

UH OH!! SOLDIER DUDES GETTIN ATE!!!

——————————————

OH SHIT!!! PILOT JUST GOT ATE!!! FUCKIN DRAGON BASEMENT UP IN THIS SHIT!!!

——————————————

BITCH YOU REALLY GON THROW A ROCK AT IT!!! FUCKIN NONSENSE OF THIS BITCH!!!

——————————————

LOVE AND FITE ME ENERGY IS STORED IN THE ATOMIC BREATH

——————————————

“Shoot him!”

WHY!!!???!! He literally had NO problem with you before then!!!

——————————————

Why does white man who don’t know anything about this vehicle suddenly know how to pilot this shit!???!?!!!!!

 ——————————————

Y’all love had SO MUCH wine!

——————————————

The FUCK this dude got a flip flop phone for!!!?!????!!!?

Da fuq!?!?! 🤣🤣🤣🤣 yeah that’s the most unrealistic part of this entire fucking movie! Not the fuckin Kaiju robots. Not the fucking hollow earth bullshit! The fucking flip phone! LMFAO!!!!

——————————————

“Maintenance! I’M MAINTENANCE!!! This bitch ain’t buying it”

That made me laugh WAY FUCKIN harder that it should have!!!!

——————————————

Y’all really ganna try to shoot at a kid!?! REALLY!?!?!??!

——————————————

GAWD, I’m so glad I impulse bought these oatmeal bites from Dominos! 🤤😋

[Sober Edit: I have no idea how my autocorrect managed to convert “Parmesan” to “oatmeal,” but okay! 😆😅]

——————————————

Kong be like, “Hey, bitch!!! You lookin’ for me!?!?”

——————————————

Find you a partner that bites your neck like Godzilla does! Lmao!

Sorry, I’ll be crawling back into my hell hole, now.

——————————————

EAT YOUR FOOKIN VEGETABLES GODZILLA!!!!!

——————————————

Did Godzilla just axe throw with his fuckin teefs!!!????!?!?!

——————————————

THIS IS THE FOOKIN MONSTER VS MONSTER FIGHTS IVE BEEN CRAVING SINCE KING OF THE MONSTERS HOLY SHIT!!!!

——————————————

“Really? Groupies, again?”

First of all, again!?! What happened last time???

Secondly, where tf are YOUR grpupies, asshole! No need to judge! Ya cunt!

——————————————

“There can only be one alpha,”

Really! You really gotta bring your toxic masculinity into a fuckin monster fight, my dude!?!

——————————————

Kong said, “Yeet! YEET SELF!!!”

——————————————

I am living for the feral fight scenes!!!!

——————————————

Kong’s expression , tho! 🤣🤣🤣

Like, “Can you ducking NOT, Godzilla?!? Can you, like, fucking chill??!!? Aight, fine! ASDASHKLSDJKLDZJL ADKLKDZDJ!!!!!!”

——————————————

Awwwww! Godzilla let Kong go, bc he knows what it’s like to be the last of his species! 🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭

——————————————

“This is how we [...] win!”

Oh, honey, you ‘bout to die! Lmao! 😂

——————————————

Oh god! I knew he was going to use the sign for “coward” at the most inappropriate time! Lmao! At least the Precious Girls is smart enough to know what Dumbass White Man means, lol

——————————————

Oh, thank god we do t see this dumbass in any sequels!

——————————————

Dammit, he escaped!

——————————————

This girl is too good!

——————————————

Did y’all really think you were ganna break into a semi-sentient Mecha-Godzilla by GUESSING ITS FUCKING PASSWORD!!?!?!?!!!!???? 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

——————————————

YEAH!!!! TEAM-UP COMING THROUGH!!!!!

——————————————

“I was hoping to die with adults, but that’s okay,”

🤣🤣🤣

——————————————

“I’VE GOT TO DIE WITB YOU AND SOBER!!?!?!”

GOD, I love this movie!!!!

——————————————

OOOOOOHHHH HOLY SHIT!!!!! 😱😱😱😱😱 He powering up the axe!!!!!

——————————————

YOOOOOO KONG WENT PREDATOR/YOUTJA ON MECHA-GODZILLA’s ASS!!!!

——————————————

Kong said, “I’m done, y’all! Imma take a nap!”

——————————————

“Dad. Uh...Bernie.”

I fucking love Bernie!!! 😂😂😂😂

——————————————

JIA NOOOO!!! Don’t go running between two disgruntled Kaiju bby!!

——————————————

Yo, why do monsters have less toxic masculinity than we do??? Lol!

——————————————

Yaaaaaay! Kong has a new home!!

——————————————

WELP!!! I fucking loved this movie, and I highly recommend it to everyone!!!

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Hot Cakes

Pairing: Midoriya (Deku) x reader

Warnings: Slight suggestive content; groping; slight language

Author’s Note:

So for the next two weeks or so, all regular oneshots (aside from DBF) are going to have Izuku in them. This wasn’t really intentional, it just kind of happened, but here you go. This one was my least favorite, so I’m posting it first. It’s short, goofy, kinda nasty, and just really stupid, and I promise I have better stuff for later.

And for safety, I’ll say you’re both in your . . . second year. Yeah. But for reals, this is less suggestive than some of my other stuff soo . . . ?

Whatever, I’m going to stop thinking about it.

Enjoy, I guess?

-Sugar

|     )    )ԅ(‾⌣‾ԅ)

The two of you were goofing around at your house, attempting to bake cupcakes. Somehow you managed to get everything covered in a fine layer of flour, only broken up by flecks of batter splattered haphazardly on both of your arms and shirts.

You finally slid the last pan into the oven, setting your timer for when to take them out.

"Wow, (Y/N), those smell amazing," Izuku said, leaning back against the counter and inhaling deeply, a dreamy smile crawling over his lips. He turned to a separate batch that was cooling on the counter, leaning over to inspect them. "These cupcakes look perfect!"

Wound up from the last half hour of joking around and flirting, your eyes flicked down to his pants. Damn, he was fine, and you smirked at the idea of letting him know it.

"There are some other perfect cakes I'm thinking about," you said, sidling up next to him with a flirtatious glint in your eyes.

"Huh?" Izuku asked, not catching on.

In a sudden spike of adrenaline, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and landed a good smack over his behind. It was in no way harsh, but you had purposely cupped your hand so it would make the most satisfyingly loud noise possible.

The green-haired boy suddenly straightened in surprise, his eyes growing wide with shock. He finally roved his gaze back toward you, green irises meeting yours. His face went completely red, complimenting his high tops well, as the realization of what you'd done sank over the both of you.

He swallowed, trying to process your advance. "You—y-y-you, um—just—"

Your face heated with a blush of your own, and you had to fight to keep yourself from panicking. "I-I'm sorry!" you finally said, attempting to hide your burning face in your hands. "I went too far—"

"No."

You peeked out at your boyfriend from between your fingers, not sure if you'd heard him correctly. "What?"

His blush deepened even further, averting his eyes from yours. "Would it be weird if I kinda wanted you to . . . do it again?"

You finally lowered your hands from your face, and Deku suddenly snorted with laughter, clapping a hand over his mouth.

"What?" you asked again, still trying to get over your embarrassment from before.

"You've got a little—there's ah,—" he stopped, bursting out into full-on giggles now.

You frowned, bending towards him in hopes to gain his attention. "What is it?" you asked, still oblivious to why Izuku was cracking up.

"Your hands," he finally said. "They had flour on them. And now it's all over your face!"

You reached two fingers up and experimentally dragged them over your cheek, finding that he was, in fact, correct. A slightly grainy film was dusted upon you, and you must have looked like an idiot.

You burst out laughing too, your face still warmed with mirth blended with leftover embarrassment.

A thought made you choke, pausing in your moment of joy. "Hold up," you said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Turn around."

Deku lifted a green brow at you, suspicious, but finally complied.

A completely new wave of laughter crashed over you, your legs almost weak with how much of it you were experiencing.

"What?" Izuku asked, trying to turn his head so he could see you.

A white handprint laid solidly on his posterior, vividly contrasting his dark wash jeans.

"Um," you said, trying to catch your breath, "I think I'm going to have to clean you up before you go home, because there's evidence that my hand was on your ass."

"Oh, crap, really?" Izuku blushed again, but he still kept himself positioned so you had a nice view of it.

You whipped out your phone and took a picture of the offending print, showing your accidental art to Izuku. He laughed and grabbed your phone, going to your messaging app so he could send it to himself.

You bent over and started brushing him off, watching as the flour only lightened and smeared around more. At least now you might be able to say he had just backed up into a flour-covered counter, but it also kinda looked like you'd went crazy on him. Maybe that was just your mind leaping into a gutter at the context of the situation.

You also couldn't help but notice that he'd changed his breathing as you ran your hands over him, even though your motions had no double meaning behind them. You experimentally poked a finger at his cheek, watching as it slightly sunk in before stopping at hard muscle. You glanced up for a response, noticing how his face had stilled and he subtly rocked back towards you.

"Not gonna lie," you murmured just loud enough for him to hear, glancing back down, "you really do have a nice mass up in here."

Izuku locked your phone and set it on the counter beside him, keeping his eyes on you. "You . . . like it?"

You blushed and nodded, giving him a gentle squeeze.

He gulped, unsure of what to say. "I'm . . . glad you do."

Both of you resembled tomatoes while you stood there in silence, him letting you softly grope him in a slight daze. It wasn't as though you'd never wanted to do this before, it was just that it was never at a good time. And besides, the two of you were quite shy when it came to public affection in your relationship, opting for long hugs and brief, sweet kisses in the comfort of being together behind a closed door. But now you finally had the chance to live out your fantasy, your mind focused on his ample hindquarters.

A beeping sound made the both of you jump and you straightened, taking your hands back to your sides. "That would mean the cakes are done!" you said, maybe a little too high pitched. "The cupcakes, that is. You—um . . . hi. Pardon me."

He practically leaped out of the way, letting you get into your kitchen drawer to find your trusty oven mit. You walked back to the oven and pulled out the pan, setting them on a cooling rack on the counter.

"They're done," you ruled after poking them with a toothpick and seeing it come out clean. You moved your hand to hover over the first set, checking their temperature. "These are still too hot to ice yet. We're going to have to wait another five minutes or so."

You suddenly felt a large hand hesitantly press itself against your lower cheek, gently massaging the soft and malleable flesh beneath it. You involuntarily pushed back, savoring the feeling of each finger sink into your plush clothed skin.

"While we wait," Izuku's shaky warm breath tickled the back of your ear as he shuffled closer, "I believe I have a bit of a favor to repay."

|     )   )ԅ(‾⌣‾ԅ)

Author’s Note: 

Oop—

This was really stupid and I don’t love it. Sorry for messing up our pure, innocent green bean.

-Sugar

Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sokkasangel​ @xoxopam4​​

[aficwhore]

Times Square Significance

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, oral(female receiving), cockwarming, lovemaking?, language

Word Count: 1,986

Summary: After Aaron proposes in New York City, him and the reader head back to their hotel for a romantic night.

A/N: It has been super duper long since I’ve last written but this came to my head and I HAD to put it out into the internet. Let me know if you like it! Send in requests!!! I also didn’t spell check… oops.

Reader POV:

It was about time that Aaron and I took a small vacation. The BAU had started to get really stressful with the amount of cases popping up and people needing our help. Finally died down and we decided to get away, even if it was just for a few days. We drove all the way to New York City, just because Aaron knew how much I loved it.

Today is our second day here, I’ve been so excited that I woke up early to find Aaron curled up on my side with his head resting on my chest. His deep breaths fanning over my exposed skin, his floppy dark locks tickling my neck. I began to card my fingers through his hair, not wanting to wake him, but that failed when he started to stir a little bit.

Aaron muffled, “What time is it,” still groggy from his slumber.

“It’s 10 o’clock sleeping beauty,“ I quietly giggled. He slightly shook his head at the nickname, a light blush making its way to his cheeks. Without saying anything he got up and went to the bathroom, only for the shower to start seconds later. Taking this as a sign to get ready, I climbed out of bed and opened up my suitcase. I wasn’t sure what to wear, I had no idea what her plans were for today on the town. Just as I was thinking Aaron yelled from the bathroom, “Wear something nice! We might go see if we can snag tickets for a show!”

My heart fluttered, he knows how much I love Broadway. “Oh yeah? Which one are you thinking?“ I question as he walked out of the bathroom with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist.

“That I’m not actually sure of, what’s the one with the soundtrack you listen to? The ghost in the theater or something?“ He asked.

Giggling I reply, “Phantom of the opera, silly. But I will admit that was cute.“

He walked over to me, “I try.“ He quickly picked me on the lips in rummages through his suitcase for clothes.

I finally choose a red, flowy dress, with some wedges and curl my hair and throw a little makeup on. Aaron dressed in some nice dress pants and a cream colored button up, with the first but none done, which was unusual for Mr. boss man.

We walked to a cute little diner for something to eat, by the time I was finished getting ready it was already lunchtime. We ate and chatted about New York and what else we were going to do during our stay.

*tiny time skip*

We had just bought our tickets for the Phantom of the Opera, grabbed some drinks, and headed to our seats. The whole time I sat in complete awe, I was a total nerd for the show. Aaron kept staring at me, I could see from the corner of my eye. I whispered, “why do you keep looking at me?“

“I love you, and because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.“ He attempted to whisper back over the loud contents of the show in front of us.

“Shush! we are watching!“ Some random lady whisper-yelled at us, causing us to giggle and turn back to the performance. Aaron‘s hand made its way to my knee, slightly squeezing, earning a small smile from me. I leaned against the shoulder for the remainder. When it ended I cannot stop talking about how amazing life theater is, he would just check with my enthusiasm and let me continue on.

As we left the theater Aaron suggested we walk around Times Square and watch the lights. I agreed and we walked the block hand-in-hand. We arrive minutes later, the whole street not needing a single light, due to what seems like a 1000 billboards. We stood right in the middle, taking in the beauty around us. I got too caught up in the site that I turned away from Aaron. Basking in the smell of the city and the pictures that scattered the buildings. One billboard particularly caught my attention, for a second I thought my name popped up. Watching the same one to see if it happened again, a new message appeared reading, “Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?” confused, I turned around to see if Aaron was saying what I was seeing, but when I spun on my heel I was met with crowds of people surrounding us, filming us on their phones. I look down to see Aaron on one knee with a ring in between his fingers. “You have made me the happiest man on earth. You have made my life so amazing, from being a badass FBI agent, to a wonderful stepmom to Jack, and to being the most kind and selfless person I know. I can’t imagine my life without you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, will you do me the honor of marrying me?“ He stuttered.

Tears began to fill my eyes and spill out onto my cheeks, my first instinct was to lunch at him, causing his post to fall to the pavement giggling, “yes! Yes of course, I love you Aaron Hotchner.“ I wept. Allowed to hear from the people surrounding us, broke out, we got up and he put The beautiful diamond ring on my finger and we embraced in a loving case. There was no doubt our proposal would be all over the Internet, the team will find out soon but that didn’t matter at this moment. Only we did.

We slowly made our way back to our hotel, Aaron holding my hand and spinning me in circles, showing how happy we both were. We didn’t say much in the elevator, our smiles did most of the talking. As soon as the door opened to our floor, I gave him a mischievous smirk and began running to our room. “Come catch me!“ I yelled.

“Oh just you wait!“ Aaron laughed and followed right behind.

Right as we reached our door he swooped me up and spun me around, us in a giggling fit. He carefully placed me down and tilted  my chin up for a kiss. Because it was innocent at first, but quickly turned needy. He pulled away, opening the door to reveal our room, dimly lit with candles scattered across the room. Rose petals let a small trail from the doorway to the bed. I guessed in all my heart swelling with love. I turn my fiancé, adoration in his eyes, healing down, taking my lips into a sweet kiss. His slightly chapped lips contrasted with my last ones. I wrapped my arms around his neck in an attempt to deep in the kiss. His hands slowly found their place at the small of my back, trailing down just a little bit to give my ass a squeeze.

His tongue swiped across my bottom lip, asking for insurance. Or tongue stance does the candles flickered across the room. I took in the moment, the roses, the candles, my man, and the way he tasted; like mint. I pulled back, glancing into his eyes, all while biting my lip.

He slowly let me backwards towards the bed, until my knees made contact and I fell back, him gently hovering over my small frame. One of his hands roamed up my thigh, to my hip, agonizingly slow between the valley of my breasts, and then gliding over my bottom lip. I think him down into a kiss, his hand found one of mine in and released our fingers as I opened my legs, welcoming him between them. I could feel his hard against my clothes core, bucking my hips up to him, I ground the sensation. He froze for a second instead up, still positioned between my thighs. He ended his button up throwing it somewhere in the dark corner. He ran his fingers along the hem of my dress, looking at me for permission, not going any further, “yes, take it off Aaron,“ need soaked in my voice.

He carefully lifted the red fabric up over my hips and head, discarding it into the blackness. As he started to kiss my neck, finding my sweet spot, I frantically reached for his belt and I’m doing the buckle and tugging his pants and underwear down. As I began to stroke him, he left marks across my chest and breast, a small groan from me. cool let me take care of my future wife,“ he whispered as he trail down my body kneeling at the edge of the bed. He peeled off my panties and one motion. He started to bite and suck on my inner thighs, causing me to whine. “I know baby, I can I’ll give you what you want,“ he smirked as he pulled me closer to him and put my legs over his broad shoulders. He placed a small kiss to my clit, leading to me putting my hands in his hair and slightly tugging. He moaned, sending vibrations to my whole body. He swiftly added two fingers in my wet cunt, pumping them and scissoring me open. He spit up a little, grazing my G spot, causing the coil in my stomach to tighten dangerously fast. I no longer held back my moans, nothing but my voice and what sounds filled the room. “Baby, I’m so close, I’m gonna c-“ I came crashing down with a loud cry. My leg started to shake as he rode me through my high.

Aaron came back up to meet my lips. I tried to flip him on his back so I could taste him, but he stopped me, “we have all the Time in the world for that my love. I want to be inside you.“ He said in his sultry voice. He situated himself between my legs once again, unclasping my bra and reconnecting our lips in a rough kiss. Our tongues fight for dominance.

I reached down and grabbed his cock, rubbing it against my wet slit, eliciting a moan from him. “Quit teasing Y/n”

I guided him to my entrance and he fully sheathed himself in my pussy. I have never felt as full as I do now. With only seconds to adjust, he started trusting, setting a slow bit rough pace. Each other’s names fell from our mouth, along with gas in months. As he thrusted harder, I rake my nails done his back, causing him to tense and speed up a little. I attacked his neck, sucking and biting along his jaw, allowing him to become more vocal, “I don’t think I’m going to last much longer sweetheart.”

“Me too,” I took out. His trust became erratic and fast, so I reached between us and toyed with my clit, chasing my orgasm. I came with a scream of his name, “Aaron!”

Seconds behind me, he released his load inside of me, struggling to catch his breath. He was about to pull out of me when I stopped him. “Can we just stay like this for a little while? I want to remember this, and today.”

He chucked, relaxing and laying his head against my chest. Not long after, we drifted to sleep. aim loving embrace of each other.

To think, soon i’d be “Mrs. Hotchner.”

[cali-holland]

Quarantine Cuts- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Requested by anonymous: tom x reader- the reader has long hair and after she sees tom cut harry’s, she asks him to cut her hair to a shorter length (like maybe a bit past her shoulders)?

Prompt: After Tom cuts Harry’s hair, you let him cut yours.

Word Count: 1000

Warnings: swearing, alcohol

A/N: oops this was from a while ago... and i know nothing about cutting hair hahaha

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

“Is Harry still alive? It’s quiet down here.” You asked teasingly, coming down the stairs, suspicious of the eerily quiet house. Almost an hour ago, you’d left Tom to livestream with Christine as he cut Harry’s hair. The fans didn’t know about your relationship with Tom yet, and they certainly didn’t know you were quarantining together, so it was just safer for you to stay in another room while he was on live.

“I killed Tom. He ruined my hair.” Harry called back out to you as you made your way into the room.

“It looks great!” Tom insisted, fluffing up the top of his brother’s hair, proudly. Your boyfriend pulled your attention to his accomplishment, “Darling, look!”

You ran a hand through Harry’s hair, laughing lightly. “Quit acting, Tom. Your true talent is being a barber.”

“Are you blind, Y/N?” Harrison joked, making Tom pout and Harry shoot him a worried glare.

“Does it really look like shit?” Harry asked, genuinely concerned over his hair.

“No, no. It looks great, Harry.” You reassured him as Tom wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing a small kiss to your temple.

“You should let me cut your hair.” Tom stated in a teasing tone.

“You want to?” You asked with a smile, feeling his fingers lightly play with the ends of your hair by your waist. “I’ve been thinking of getting a haircut.”

“Don’t let him do it.” Harry jokingly warned as he stood up and fixed his hair.

“You’d really let me cut your hair?” Tom asked, surprised. Cutting and shaving his brother’s hair was one thing, but cutting his girlfriend’s hair worried him even more, especially since you had a lot of hair.

“Here.” You picked up the scissors, handing them to him.

“You’re serious?” Harrison questioned as Tom still tried to process it.

“It’s either Tom cuts my hair or I’m cutting it myself- and trust me, that’s not a good idea.” You stated, sitting in the chair Harry once occupied.

“Are you sure you’re in the right mental state, Y/N?” Harry joked, “I’ve heard of girls having mental breakdowns and cutting their hair, but this something else.”

“It’s quarantine, are any of us okay? Besides, you’re the one who trusted Tom near your head with a razor.” You pointed out and he nodded in agreement.

“That’s true.” He laughed, patting Tom on the back. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“I need more beer if I’m gonna do this.” Tom said, making his way to the kitchen.

“You’re not drunkenly cutting my hair!” You protested.

“Fine, fine. You can have the beer.” He came back into the room with his glass full. He took a quick sip (almost half the glass) and handed it to you (you two made out daily, sharing a glass during a pandemic wasn’t going to hurt you).

“Weren’t you supposed to shower?” Tuwaine asked Harry as his curly haired friend sat beside him on the couch.

“And miss this? No way.” Harry laughed.

“How short do you want it?” Tom asked you. After a moment of thinking, you held your hand up to your shoulders. He gaped at you, taking in how much you expected him to cut off. “That much?”

“Yeah, why not?” You shrugged. “It’s basically summer and I don’t want to deal with long hair in the heat.”

“Are you sure?” He questioned, running a hand through your long hair. “I love your long hair.”

“Yes. Now, are you going to cut if or not?” You teased, and he clicked the scissors a couple of times. Harrison came in from the kitchen with a couple glasses of water to wet your hair.

“Guess we’ll find out what it’s like to live with exes in quarantine after this.” He joked, setting the glasses on the table in front of you.

“I trust you.” You told Tom, squeezing his free hand in yours reassuringly.

“Yeah, well, I don’t.” Tom laughed. “This’ll be interesting.” He grabbed one of the water glasses and poured it over your hair, getting it wet for him to cut it.

“Maybe we should call Christine back.” Tuwaine suggested as Tom hesitated with his scissors.

“No, just go for it. I’ve cut my hair so many times without instruction.” You stated.

“Yeah, but it’s your hair.” Tom added. Just as he was about to cut the first part, he saw Harry’s phone out of the corner of his eye, “Are you filming this?”

“Absolutely.” Harry snickered, holding his phone up proudly as he recorded you and Tom.

“Tom, just cut it already.” You jokingly sighed. You knew he was nervous about it, but the longer you sat there in anticipation, the more you wanted to just do it yourself to get it over with.

Tom sucked in an anxious breath and cut the first small section of hair. You talked him through it as he cut various sections of your hair, attempting to get it to the length you wanted it. After what felt like hours of him working on your hair, he finally decided he was done.

“Okay, how do you like it?” Tom asked after he ran his fingers through your hair one last time.

“There’s no mirror.” You laughed, but still looked at the length, moving your neck around to do so, “I think it looks fine.”

“It’s pretty even. I’m impressed.” Harry said, stopping his recording.

“See? I can cut hair.” Tom smiled proudly as you stood up from the chair.

“You doubted yourself more than I did.” You reminded him with a laugh, pulling him in for a kiss, making the other three boys let out groans.

Later that night, as you and Tom were getting ready for bed, you caught yourself looking in the mirror, checking out your new haircut.

“Don’t tell me you’re regretting your decision to let me cut your hair.” Tom said, coming into the bathroom and seeing you examining your short hair.

“Not at all.” You reassured him, “It’s just different to have short hair again. I like it.”

“Maybe when my hair is my own again, you can cut it.” He offered.

“Ah, right, when it’s not Sony’s hair.” You teased.

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex​ @theamazingtomholland​ @hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez

Tom Tag List: @quaksonhehe​ @tomkindholland​

[callioope]

Thoughts on Critical Role Campaign 2 Episode 133 below the cut!

Post-Battle Capeleb Scene

Me to spouse as I was pressing play: “I apologize ahead of time for any squealing this episode may cause.”

Cut to Capeleb picking up Essek after the battle! All King Kong style!!! Shoving him in front of the two clerics like “Heal him!!!” ahhhh that definitely got a squeal ... incidentally just as my husband was starting a call... oops. 

Bonus: Caduceus being like “dude I wanna heal you too”

Bonus 2: everyone like “Caleb you can put him down” Caleb: nO *puts Essek on his back* i mean caleb knows better than anyone you gotta protect the squishy wizard

Bonus 3!: Jester’s comment about “He doesn’t think clearly when he’s an animal.” and Essek’s “Evidently!” lol 

Let the Cleric Rest!

Okay earlier in the episode, when Laura was insistent on “guys we need to start our long rest ASAP,” I felt that in my bones. I play a cleric in the Tomb of Annihilation campaign I’m in, and we spent 3 or 4 sessions stuck in a dungeon filled with poison gas where we took 1d6 poison damage every hour. So no long rests there. Top that off with the fact that we’ve been in the Chultan jungle even longer, and we don’t get long rests unless we can find and secure a very safe location, and the pain of being a spellcaster and not getting a long rest is REAL.

And then no one was acknowledging her at first! Yeah later Fjord and Beau were like “yeah yeah we agree” but she had to say it so many times!!! And I kept shouting at my screen “listen to Laura Bailey!!!” thinking “my dudes you can do ALL of this talking and planning while you rest pleeeeze get that rest it” because I play a cleric too and running out of a spells is a thing.

Of course, having finished the episode/in hindsight, I’m actually not sure if the even had a full 8 hours from the moment Jester finished her Commune with Artagan to the moment the Tomb Takers arrived, but still. I feel so bad for Laura right now knowing she only has ONE SPELL SLOT left and they’re going up against the Lucien and Cree. She’s clever so I’m sure she’ll think of something but that just is a really sucky feeling going into any battle knowing you don’t have a lot of slots left, let alone The Super Scary Big Battle ahead. soo. yeah. Gonna be worrying about that all week through the end of the next episode. 

Also side note but jeez poor Laura rolling two one’s on that Heroes Feast. She needs to cleanse her dice or buy new ones altogether. she has the WORST luck with rolls.

TOWER TALK & TOUR!!!!!

IT!!! FINALY!!! HAPPENED!!!! I have been longing for Essek to see the Tower since episode 124 if not longer and at last! It was wonderful. AND CALEB SHOWED HIM THE NINTH FLOOR!!! amazing. fantastic. and what a talk. what a talk. ughh yes. they didn’t really have much time in the Tower outside of the Heroes Feast and the long rest but i’m sooooo glad Caleb got the chance to give the tour and they could talk. YAY!

Pursuing Lucien & Cree

Does anyone have any ideas of what they can do here? UGHH i wanna speculate on the best strategy for them (just because I find it to be a fun thought exercise). Like digging through the collapsed tunnel might take too long? Although we have no idea how long Lucien and Cree need. Hopefully the lack of the rest of the 3 Tomb Takers slows them down somewhat but who even knows at this point. I’ve been wondering if there are any teleportation spells that might work -- but Essek’s teleport is way too high to risk in Aeor right? Wonder if there’s any spells to magically clear the rubble? I’m stumped on this one. Super excited to see what they do but in the meantime while I have to wait would love to ponder this puzzle.

Fjord & the Rangers

not super wanting to like dive into intense discourse about this but like. I did have thoughts so here goes. I don’t blame Fjord for making the decision that he did, he had to make a spilt second decision and it seemed very in character for him to choose what he did. It did seem like he was trying to stall to help his party members get more rest, and it makes sense that he’d want to do that, BUT. here’s the thing. Battles in DND only take a minute or so TOPS. There’ s no way the battle itself would slow down the TT. If you’re hoping to delay the TT, you gotta hope the rangers can do enough damage to force them to at least take a short rest if not a long one. That’d only give an hour and that’s still not enough for the long rest the M9 need. 

ALL THAT SAID!!! I think there’s a very good chance that whatever that battle did helped lower the TT’s HP enough so that the traps the M9 laid could finish off the three members it did. So I don’t think it was in vain. Worth it as a delay tactic? Ehh not really. Worth it to hurt the TT? Yes.

And while I do think that Fjord and Essek knew the chances were high they were sending the rangers to their Doom (a) I think the rangers being here in Aeor know that’s an everyday possibility to begin with, and (b) I still think there’s a chance they might have been able to survive/flee. Maybe the TT decided to push past them and fled from the skirmish themselves? Yes it’s possible everyone (including Dagen T_T) fell during that battle, but I don’t think that’s set in stone. 

Also I don’t think the TT would think it’s weird to come across the rangers, they likely already knew they were there. And another thing -- even if they were like “Hmm rangers coincidentally by the entrance we were going to use?” Look they know the M9 became unscryable AND were trying to stop them. I honestly think the TT knew to be on the lookout for TM9 no matter what. And in hindsight -- which obvs Fjord did not have but we know now -- Lucien way underestimated them bc hey, despite everything, the trap still worked. Like, very much of what the M9 was trying to do during this whole arc was keep their cards close to their chest so Lucien would underestimate them. They really did lay the groundwork for that when they were traveling with them. Yeah technically they sort of revealed some of their hand during the Gelidon fight buuut they also ran from the TT limping later that day. So. Yeah. Anyways. 

I’m rambling now and gotta go start dinner. But those are my initial thoughts!!!! Happy to engage in polite discourse. Main things I love talking about are theories for what happens next!!! and also hello, this is my first like, big post in the tag although I’ve already posted a few times in the shadowgast tag.