#in my defense there was like a huge empty space in front of his chest lmao

[royalnavyart]

♱ ... unwrapped ... ♱

[campingwiththecharmings]

I posted 17,876 times in 2022

That's 5,283 more posts than 2021!

528 posts created (3%)

17,348 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@shewhohangsoutincemeteries

@my-secret-shame

@marveldaily

@tvandfilm

@disabledameron

I tagged 17,743 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#q - 15,927 posts

#oscar isaac - 1,488 posts

#moon knight - 1,369 posts

#star wars - 1,133 posts

#marvel - 869 posts

#steven grant - 806 posts

#marc spector - 624 posts

#daredevil - 476 posts

#moon knight spoilers - 450 posts

#matt murdock - 449 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#also just wanna say that i have written sequels to stories i never planned more than one chapter for just bc someone liked it enough to ask

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

128 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

#4

Shut Up and Kiss Me

AN: another ficlet! this is a result of a couple of prompt lists i saw and was inspired by (there are like 4 other prompts i was inspired by also that are ~in progress~ so be on the look-out for those if you happen to enjoy this one 😉).

(Un-beta'd)

This is it, you think. This is the day you finally snap and murder him.

Rated:  T Words: 892 Pairing: Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Warnings: kissing, arguing, a little cursing...i think that's all. AO3

----

“Dameron, if you interrupt me one more time— Maker, help me.”

It’s the middle of the night. You’re exhausted and filthy and the last thing you want to do right now is argue with the posterboy of the Resistance yet again over how your kriffing ship should be maintained.

Unluckily for you, he doesn’t seem to care what you want.

“I’m just saying–”

“I don’t care! This is my ship. Go worry about your own!”

Your aggravated words echo through the mostly empty hangar as you turn away from him, signaling that you’re finished with the conversation. He doesn’t take the hint, however, and as soon as you reach for your tools, he’s running his mouth again. 

The sound of his voice makes the blood rush in your ears and you have to close your eyes in an effort to calm yourself. 

This is it, you think. This is the day you finally snap and murder him.

Clenching your jaw you exhale in frustration and swiftly turn to face him again. “Maker, will you just shut up?!”

He stops mid-sentence, mouth hanging slightly agape as he stares at you in shock and, for the briefest of moments, he is silent. But then the shock wears off and his irritatingly handsome face contorts in annoyance, a fire igniting in his eyes.

“Why don’t you come over here and make me!” he retorts, raising his eyebrows in challenge as his hands fall defiantly to his hips.

You tilt your head at his words, eyes narrowing slightly as you continue to glare at him.

‘Make me,’ he says. With pleasure. 

You don’t remember moving, but suddenly you’re right in front of him, invading his space the way he always seems to invade yours. It throws him off, you can tell by the look in his eyes as they study you.

You realize too late that getting so close to him was a huge mistake. This close, you can smell him, can feel the warmth of his body, can see how soft his gorgeous curls look, can see the many shades of brown in his annoyingly beautiful eyes—

Oh. Oh, shit.

Your eyes widen a little, flicking briefly to his lips before you can stop yourself and he notices. Something in his gaze shifts and you swallow thickly in anticipation.

“Do you wanna kiss me or kill me? I honestly can’t tell.” 

His voice is low, rough, and just a little bit teasing. You flush slightly in annoyance and cross your arms over your chest defensively.

“Right now? Definitely the second one.”

He bites his bottom lip in an effort to hold back a smile and you mentally curse yourself when it causes your heart to stutter a little.

“And before?” he asks innocently, moving somehow even closer to you.

“Before what?” you ask, holding his gaze and fighting the urge to step back and create space between you.

He allows himself to smile a little this time and the action momentarily draws your attention back to his mouth. When your gaze returns to his, there is a teasing glint in his eyes.

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147 notes - Posted September 16, 2022

#3

Love is a Game (For Fools to Play)

AN: So, hi. This is the first fic I’ve written in six years (OMG), and my first starring the lovely Poe Dameron, so please be gentle. I’m so sorry this is so long, btw, I meant for it to be a drabble and, well, obviously got a little carried away lmao.

Also, while I wrote this with a female reader in mind, I’m pretty sure it reads as gender neutral (please correct me if that’s wrong, I’ve read this so many times at this point I might be blind to it lol).

(Un-beta'd)

The Resistance has finally found a safe place to lay low and is celebrating their much-needed downtime with silly party games (and alcohol, obviously).

Rated: T Words: 4,600+ (idek y'all) Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Warnings: alcohol use, mild cursing, kissing, mutual pining, friends to lovers. AO3

—

You throw back a shot of Jet Juice and grimace as it burns down your throat.

“Shit, this stuff is terrible. Don’t we have anything palatable?”

Poe sits beside you on the floor of the common room, his own shot of Jet Juice between his fingers. “We’re on a secret base in the middle of nowhere. What were you expecting? A Takodana Quencher?”

You laugh, grabbing another shot. “No, but I’d kill for a Starfire 'skee right about now. Maker, I’d even settle for a Tsiraki, at least it tastes good.”

“Eh, I’m more of a Starshine Surprise kind of guy,” he jokes, taking another shot.

You hum in agreement, only kind of processing what he’s saying as you too take another drink. You feel pleasantly buzzed and you find yourself wishing you felt this good all of the time. “That stuff’ll kill you, you know.”

His entire left side is already pretty much flush with your right, so when he chuckles and tries to bump your shoulder with his, he almost falls over into your lap. 

“Maker, Dameron, why are you always throwing yourself at me?” You snort, slapping a hand over your face when it’s louder than you anticipated; apparently you’re more sloshed than you’d originally thought.

He rights himself and tries bumping your shoulder again, but only succeeds in pressing himself further into your side. “You’re irresistible, I just can’t help it.”

You huff a laugh and turn to answer him, realizing too late how close his face is to yours. His nose bumps your cheek and his breath fans against your lips as you lock eyes with him. His face is flushed and his eyes are a little hazy and your breath catches in your throat when his gaze dips briefly to your mouth. 

You should lean back, give the both of you some space, but you can’t. He’s warm and solid and he just smells so damn good. He licks his lips absently, eyes roaming over your face. 

“You know,” he whispers, raising a playful eyebrow, “if you want to kiss me, baby, all you have to do is ask.”

A strangled laugh escapes you as the tension breaks and he smiles and leans away, searching for another drink. He wrinkles his nose when he can’t find one and looks over at you. “We need more shots.”

Just then, someone across the room yells something about playing a game and mostly everyone cheers. Poe looks at you, raising his brows in askance. You shrug and begin the process of standing to your feet (which you don’t remember being so difficult…). Poe is up before you and helps you up the rest of the way, his hand grasping your upper arm.

“You good?” he asks, watching you wobble a little as he lets you go.

You nod and pat his shoulder. “Thanks for the assist, Black Leader.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “Come on, let’s go see what the game is.”

When you make it to the crowd of people playing…whatever it is they’re playing, a game is already apparently in full swing. You can’t really see what’s happening, but everyone’s cheering and laughing. You try to ask the person closest to you what’s going on, but it’s so loud, they don’t hear you. You look at Poe, Poe looks at you and you both shrug and turn back to the crowd to wait for an opening. 

After a moment, there is one and you grab Poe by the arm and push your way through, dragging him behind you. When you emerge, you finally see what everyone’s so worked up about.

Spin-the-Bottle. They’re playing Spin-the-kriffing-Bottle.

You sigh in disappointment. You’ve never been into this game, even when you’re plastered. The thought of kissing some random person that you don’t even get to pick sounds like the furthest thing from fun to you. But Poe is laughing and cheering beside you (and has somehow found another drink) and you know you won’t be able to get him to leave, at least not right now, so you resign yourself and try to enjoy the antics of your comrades.

It becomes clear pretty quickly that they’re not playing a normal game of Spin-the-Bottle. According to the girl beside you (apparently named Mor), it’s some weird mash-up with another game she can’t recall the name of, but the gist is that a person spins the bottle and goes into a closet with whomever it lands on. 

“What do you do once you’re in the closet?” you ask, sure that this must only be fun if you’re totally trashed.

See the full post

156 notes - Posted July 11, 2022

#2

203 notes - Posted October 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

See the full post

262 notes - Posted September 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[butler-on-beale-street]

Unforgettable | E!Austin Butler X Plus!Reader | Part 7

Warnings: description of a mob, sad goodbye (see you later).

Word Count: 2.1K

Summary: Your uncle had warned Elvis to not bring shenanigans to your bookstore. Well, one stupid decision soon leads to mayhem.

“Now what in God’s name is that racket?” Uncle Harold said, marching out of his office. From where you stood, deep within the rows of bookshelves, you could hear a circus of screeching coming from outside. It sounded like chanting and screaming bloody murder all at the same time. You weren’t sure which of the two it really was. 

“No idea,” You said, genuinely astonished with the chaos ensuing. You stepped into the store front to look out of the plate-glass windows for a better view. Directly outside of the store, a huge crowd had formed–a wall of bodies surrounded in a ring, helplessly throwing every ounce of attention to something in the center. The roar practically vibrated through the windows as if a hurricane were rolling through the streets of Memphis. The circus had left the store completely empty, save for the three of you working it. 

You watched in shock, trying to understand what the fuss was about–until the realization finally hit when you saw a young woman screaming his name. “ELVIS! ELVIS PLEASE! ELVIS!” You watched as the woman sacrificed her dignity and modesty, crawling over other men and women alike, screaming his name as if he were her own personal Messiah. Your gut twisted with unease. You weren’t exactly sure what the feeling was, so you swallowed it down, looking back at your uncle and cousin. 

“It’s that damn Elvis boy.” Uncle Harold said, raking a hand through his disheveled hair. You couldn’t help but give your best apologetic smile, before turning your attention back to squabble. You watched as the crowd pulled apart with a clamor, revealing a wild-eyed Elvis with his hands outstretched at his sides in defense of his personal space. His hair had fallen in his face, his clothes pulled askew by the hoard of fans. 

“Ladies, please!” Elvis shouted. Somehow, he wore a smile on his face, though from where you stood, you could see that he was genuinely overwhelmed and somewhat concerned for his safety. 

“Uncle Harold, we have to do something.” You said frantically, turning to him. 

“That boy brought his harem to my bookstore. I will not have it!” he declared, pointing his finger emphatically to the floor. 

“Please! Elvis is a good person. He can’t help that he’s famous. Please just do something!” You said, raising your voice louder than you had intended. Uncle Harold stayed motionless for a moment, spurring you to take action yourself. You stormed forward toward the door. 

“Y/n. Come back here!” He shouted, running after you. “Goddamn it!” he spat under his breath. 

You pulled the front doors open, the shock from the decibels of sound almost forcing you backward. “Step back, Y/n. Now. That’s an order,” Uncle Harold said, standing over you. The situation was liable to get dangerous and the crowd could easily begin to stampede if things weren’t handled swiftly. You watched Elvis desperately peeling off hands from his chest, thighs, hair…pretty much any visible part of his body was being scoured by desperate fans. 

“Elvis!” Uncle Harold bellowed out of the door, into the crowd. Elvis made steely eye contact with him before bringing his eyes over to meet yours from behind the darkened glass. “Take my hand!” Uncle Harold exclaimed, reaching out his arm. You watched Elvis struggle, his legs held back so tightly that he had to kick backward in order to take a single step forward. You watched him fight the crowd as he firmly caught hold of your uncle’s hand. 

“Shoo before I call the police. Get off of my property or so help me!” Uncle Harold shouted, pulling Elvis towards him, deftly turning the star around so that Uncle Harold was now closer to the fans. They pawed at Uncle Harold’s back; for a second, you thought that someone may have been crazed enough to jump on his shoulders to get to Elvis, but it didn’t happen. Not this time, at least. You heard loud whistles going off from outside. The next thing you heard shocked you. A warning shot from a pistol rang out, a loud voice coming through on a megaphone:

“DISPERSE NOW OR FACE CHARGES FOR DISRUPTING THE PEACE. DISPERSE NOW OR FACE CHARGES…,” the voice boomed, the crowd pounding on the windows as Uncle Harold pulled the doors shut with all his might in order to lock them. Officers swarmed the street, physically removing men and women from the storefront. You watched the chaos ensue in front of you. Uncle Harold had managed to pull Elvis inside, but no words had been exchanged yet. Evelyn stood frozen in shock, staring out of the windows in bewilderment. You eyed Elvis who turned to look at you. He wore a shocked expression, which was somewhat surprising to you. It couldn’t have been the worst fan experience, but at the same time, you saw genuine regret in his eyes, perhaps even concern. You weren’t sure how to interpret what you saw, but it didn’t read ‘I’m used to this type of thing,’ or ‘they’re just overly enthusiastic.’ Elvis stepped toward you, pulling you to him by your waist. 

“I’m so sorry,” He said softly, leaning to kiss you gently on the lips. Before you could speak, you saw a bright flash through the window as a photographer captured a photo of you two kissing. You turned your gaze to see the cameraman, grinning with pride as he cranked his camera and walked away. You didn’t know who he was and what the camera was for. 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He said, continuing his apology. You didn’t let him finish, choosing to yank him by his arm away from the spectators. 

“Elvis, what were you thinking?” You scolded, pushing him away from you. “You can’t just bring that,” You said, pointing to the dispersing crowd, “To my store. To my family.” 

“I-I’m sorry, Cheeks. I thought I could just sneak over and see ya before I go,” He said, his blue eyes managing to sparkle, even within the stale incandescent overhead lighting.

“Now, boy,” Uncle Harold stepped toward you, his eyes trained on Elvis. “I said I didn’t want none of this…indecency at my store. And here you are causing nothing but trouble.”

“Sir, I can assure you I meant no harm.” 

“Mmhmm, Just the thing you’d say for letting my girl sneak out of my house at midnight to have a rendezvous with you at god-knows-where.” Uncle Harold’s eyes blazed with anger, though you knew that it would pass. 

“You can’t just walk in the streets like a normal person. It’s not safe anymore,” You said, diffusing your uncle’s onslaught. 

Elvis sighed deeply, bringing his hand to his forehead, rubbing frustratedly at his temples. “I can’t do a goddamn thing anymore.” He paced for a moment. 

“Watch your language, young man,” Uncle Harold scolded. “You’ll be lucky if I still get to sell books by the end of the day today,” he said before stomping off into his office. 

“Well. That was…interesting,” Evelyn said, clearly enthused. “We could have turned that crowd into great profit by inviting them in. Storytime with Elvis. Just imagine,” She said, drawing an imaginary rainbow in the air in front of her. You rolled your eyes. 

“Go balance the books.” Evelyn looked at you with a grimace. 

“I don’t want to.” You gave her a moment before glowering at her.

 “What should I tell Uncle Harold about this time, hm?” You threatened, mentally thumbing through the possibilities of blackmail that you could think of. 

She sighed exaggeratedly. “Fine. But you owe me two Revlon lipsticks. Cherry Red.” She said, attempting to barter. 

“Evelyn. Go. Now.” You warned her. She turned on her heel, huffing and puffing as she walked away, her hair bouncing with her gait. 

“You could have been really hurt,” You said, grabbing Elvis’s hand. 

“Darlin’, it hasn’t happened to me in a while, but this isn't the first time.” He said, in reference to the mob. He pulled at his clothes, trying his best to straighten them out. 

“No, but the way you looked at me. Looked like something else was wrong. It didn’t look like you were used to it.” You continued. 

He shook his head. “I’m not scared. I’m embarrassed, Y/n. That’s what you saw.” Your eyebrows scrunched with confusion. 

“What do you mean?” You asked. 

“I didn’t want you to see that. I was stupid for leaving the house–but I wanted to see you. Needed to see you.”

“I don’t know why you’re embarrassed.” You answered. 

“I’m famous–wanted by every woman in the world right now. The truth is, fame is messy. I loved it so much–and still do. But I met you,” He said, stepping forward. “I don’t wanna be ‘Elvis Presley ’the superstar to you. I don’t want you to think that this is all an act or that I’m playing some kind of game with you, running you around. I guess I’m scared that this will pull you away from me.” You watched as he swallowed nervously, continuing his course of pacing back and forth, his fingers disheveling his usually neat pompadour. 

“I need you to have a little more faith in me,” you said, letting your shoulders drop. You stepped forward to stop him from pacing. You took his hand, turning him to you. “Elvis, look at me.” He slowed to a stop, looking down at you. 

“I don’t wanna go,” he said softly, his expression full of disappointment. “Not when things are going so good.” 

“What do they say about distance?” You asked with a soft smile.

“Makes for a sorry son of a bitch,” He said matter-of-factly with a crooked grin. You punched him softly in the shoulder. 

“Hey,” you offered him a smile. “It’s just a month.”

“Just a month.” He nodded, as if encouraging himself. He brought his gaze up from the floor to look up at you. “You won’t forget about me?” He asked smoothly. 

“Elvis Presley…who’s that sorry sucker?” You played along, taking both of his hands in yours. “Seriously, Elvis. I’ll be waiting–bored…but waiting.” 

“I’ll be shaking it up before you know it, Cheeks. Write me letters. I’ll call you when I can.” He bent to kiss you softly on the lips, letting it linger for almost too long.

“I gotta go. Or I’ll never get on that train.” You squeezed his hands one last time before letting go. 

“Here, take this,” You said, reaching up to your hair to unclip the sparkly pin that you had used to fix your hair earlier in the morning. “I’ll risk a bad hair day if you’ll promise not to lose it.” You placed the clip into his palm and watched him roll the accessory, smiling softly as he looked down at it. 

“I’ll wear it in my hair,” He said, clipping it to his dark coif. “How do I look?” 

You chuckled softly. “Girly.” You answered, reaching your hand up to smooth the flyaways around the clip.

“I don’t mind. I’ll tell everyone I see that it’s my girl’s.” Butterflies burst forth from your chest like a million fireworks, all set off at the same time. You couldn’t help the happiness from spilling out from your body. He pulled you in for a tight hug, his hands squeezing around you. “I’ll be back soon, love.” He kissed you one last time on the cheek before stepping away from you. “I’m gonna try to leave out the back. Pray for me,” He said, pulling your clip from his hair and sticking it into his pocket. “I leave the station at four o’clock this afternoon. I’ll get to California real early in the morning. Be good for your uncle and keep Evey on the straight and narrow.” He winked. 

“I’ll talk to you soon, Elvis.” You said with a sweet smile, though it hurt to know that you wouldn’t see him for a while. 

“I’m counting on it, Dove.” He said, before turning and walking away toward the back entrance. He hadn’t called you that name ever, and for a while you stood there trying to decipher it. Your body radiated with happiness…of being his, feeling like you mattered. Elvis’s fame didn’t matter. His name could have never been in lights and you would have felt exactly the same. He was gone before you could mentally count to thirty, confirmed with the clatter of the door falling shut. 

You knew that it would wear off eventually and that would be when the sadness would hit, but for now, you let yourself drift within the cloud of bliss that Elvis had left you in.

End of part 7.

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[ayamturd]

kid│technoblade

summary: (requested) an errand run forces techno out of the house; he meets an interesting kid in return

warnings: brief injury description, hinted abandonment, light angst and fluff

pairing: in-game platonic!technoblade

a/n: i took this request and ran so far with it lol. pls enjoy, i loved the reader’s dynamic with techno sm

wc: (4.0k) - m.list

It was hot, the day smothering in the summer heat as the village offered little coverage to the harsh sun. From exploring the lands of the Arctic to walking in the crowded space on the sweltering landscape, Technoblade let out a sigh from how his layered clothing stuck to him; his regal attire was more than slightly uncomfortable and was arguably only for looks then and there. 

Glancing down to the list in his hands once more, he grumbled from the tasks, supplies and ingredients he still needed, openly irritated from being forced on the supply run. Real funny Phil. Hilarious.

He scratched his head, lost to the busy market place as many shoved past him in the busy rush. Technoblade was a warrior, the Blood God, he was someone to be feared and feel threatened by, yet at that very moment he couldn’t be anything less than a lost tourist. 

Technoblade rarely ventured to extremely public places, but he knew he couldn’t return empty handed, the underwhelming mockery he would receive would be just plain annoying. 

With a final sigh of defeat, he decided it best to take each task step by step, that starting with the blacksmith. Now, make no question that Technoblade and Phil weren’t not capable of crafting their own weapon, but at times, the cost of another’s opinion did more help than that of personalized wants. 

It was even hotter once he entered the open store, the burning furnace emitting an almost intolerable intensity that rivaled the burning cold of the Arctic. Rolling his neck, he approached the front desk and unsheathed both Phil’s and his long swords, tossing a small pouch with a chink as payment for restorations and commendations.

Speaking few words in the villager’s tongue, the worker immediately began his assessment when taking the weapons in hand. Techno knew little in the different language, but he understood when the man explained the necessary works and time expectancy. 

He sighed for what felt to be his 15th time that afternoon, but complied when leaning against the counter for the next few minutes; he refused to leave his best weaponry in the hands of a stranger, and would do with the wait until then. 

Picking on the crusted mud that hardened on his fur coat, he jumped when someone slammed into the wood he leaned against, eyes dropping to meet the height of a young adolescent.

Unlike himself, they seemed dressed for the sweltering heat. Their cloak hung loosely from their shoulders, but was bare and thin, either from time or was purposeful from the climate, it was his guess. While they seemed as energetic as someone their age should be, he could tell from experience of the way they stood tall with their chin held high that they were a fighter, someone who seemed cautious of their surroundings by the constant shift in their eyes. 

He also knew they noticed him but was purposefully choosing to ignore him for whatever reason, he couldn’t tell. Coughing, he went back to his useless fiddling. 

They tapped anxiously, their fingers twitching while they looked longingly to the nearest axes, an overwhelming sense of excitement filling the stuffy air. While he tried to ignore them considering how little they could stand still irritated him, he couldn’t deny that they intrigued him. 

“Helloooooooo?” they called out, jumping above the counter and holding themself up with their arms stiff in strength. Techno waited a brief moment while they began yelling louder before rolling his eyes to interrupt them.

“They’re busy right now. Give it a minute, will you?”

His monotoned voice caused them to freeze, and as they slowly turned to meet the sight of him, a huge grin grew on their face. It made his frown grow in return. 

“A minute can be so long in silence, I’m only making it go faster.” Techno scoffed at their words and fully turned his body towards them. His genetics made him tower over them even when slouched, yet while he knew others would cower, the child in front of tilted their head in amusement. 

“By what logic does that make any sense?”

The mischievous teenager followed Technoblade’s posture, mimicking his stance with crossed arms. They jutted their chin out proudly, though it was obvious they were only messing with him further.

“My logic, obviously.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s yours, doesn’t make it right.”

With an annoying quirk of a smile, the small human smirked with feigned innocent eyes.

“Says who?”

Knowing full well that it would a battle in vain, Techno conceded and faced the front desk again, his arms resting against the table as he hung his head down with a huff of air. 

His considered defeat made the young stranger laugh lightly, and they copied his position, but instead held their head in their palms with a small hum. Staring at him intensely, their head rocked in thought for some time before they spoke up. 

“You look miserable.”

It took Techno a large amount of willpower to prevent himself from glaring in their direction, something the child took as a challenge. They filled the silence when Techno left it unattended, leaning closer to him while still in place. 

“I mean, the outfit is sick, I won’t lie. But you just look awful right now. How many layers do you have on anyway?”

Once more, he had to clench his fist tightly to drown out their bothersome questions. The child, as he now deemed it considering how persistent it could be, noted his subtle tensing and bit their lip to smother another coming giggle. 

“Is your crown real? Are you actually royalty? Am I expected to bow in honor or respect? I’m terrible with conversation-“

“So I’ve noticed.” Techno dryly stated, his hand coming to rub the back of his head, exasperated, with a shake. They completely disregard his side comment like he never spoke. 

“-but I never though I’d live to see the day I interact with royalty.”

“I’m not royal, I’m anythin’ but.” Techno’s voice dropped when considering the matter, his narrowed eyes in concentration against his constant fight for Anarchy and destruction. 

His seriousness created a beat of silence in the shop, though without fail, the teenager overlooked his internal monologue.

“Do you have a long, fancy name with numbers and stuff? Like ‘King George the First' or ‘Their majesty, Alas-’”

“No."

“But what about-”

Techno’s groan cut their next range of questions off, and he pushed himself up to stare them down tiredly. 

“You’re a pretty annoyin’ kid, you know that?”

Sitting up when he did, the teen jumped onto the counter backwards, swinging their legs on the edge while gripping the border tightly. They rested their chin on their shoulder with an eased smile as they now matched his height. 

“So I’ve been told.”

The approaching footsteps from the back entry caused the both of them to turn their heads, the young stranger facing to him while Techno’s gaze still remained. 

“But you can’t deny it, I made time go faster.”

Hopping off before they could be scolded, the blacksmith returned with the weapons’ adjustments and the requested engravings Phil asked for, drawing Techno’s attention away from the young stranger. He opened the cloth the worker brought the swords out in, and lifted his own while gripping the grained handle tightly.

Stepping away from the counter, he swung the blade in front of him, tossing it briefly as to adjust to its weight and consider its balance. The wind it generated in the slices of air brought a dark smile to his face. Satisfied with the result, Techno inspected the finer details up close a final time before sheathing it to his side. 

As he went to grab Phil’s, he caught the teen’s awed gape. He chuckled from their open amazement and moved to walk towards the displayed axes behind them. 

“What’s your name, kid?” With his back to them, he reached his hand outward to the various blade sizes, hovering over the edges with careful pressure. 

His question visibly threw them off, and they stuttered before gathering themself. 

“What’s yours?” they asked, eyebrows raised in defense. Techno felt the corner of his mouth lift from their faltering. 

“Technoblade.” He was patient as they swallowed before responding. 

“Y/n.”

Unclasping a light, yet deadly thin battle-blade axe from the wall, Techno eventually turned around to meet them again.  

“No last name?” 

While they smiled, it didn’t reach their eyes as they glanced away with a careless shrug. No origin or proper upbringing, he assumed.

“Never came up with one. Never needed one.”

“Hmm.”

Lifting the axe in hand, Techno gestured to the empty baldric that wrapped tightly around their chest. By their longing stares and stance as a fighter, it didn’t take much to make the connection that they were someone who fought with an axe. 

“What happened to the last one?”

Surprised by his close observation, they brought their hands to the bare hold as if they were searching for it. Unlike the past few minutes in his company, they suddenly became shy and spoke with a guilty smile. 

“O-oh. I, uh, chipped the blade. Wore it down. It’s been a while since I was able to treat myself, I thought it was finally worth the wait to get a new one.”

Shifting on their feet, they grasped one of their arms awkwardly. Despite their previously loud, outward energy, Techno sighed once he saw them as the kid they were; they were someone alone that was forced to survive in the big world, someone he could relate and understand. 

After a moment passed, Techno faced the worker. They had been watching their interaction the entire time and seemed as uncomfortable as they were bored. Without asking for a price, he wordlessly pulled out a handful of emeralds from his drop leg pouch and slammed them on the table surface. 

The blacksmith made sounds of gurgled delight, gathering the gems into his opens hands with furious nods in thanks. Techno only rolled his eyes and shoved the purchased axe forwards, leaving it open in his outreached hands to the child. 

“Save your money. It’s not worth any price they try to sell.”

Switching their sights from the weapon and Technoblade in disbelief, they breathlessly giggled when carefully lifting it from his hold. 

Twirling it easily before striking near the ground, the pulled the new beauty to their chest gratefully. They were at a loss for words, to say the least, and Techno laughed from their frozen shock.

His laughter died down and he decided to take his leave in quick steps. While the teen tried to shout to him in thanks, they were still dazed and couldn’t form words to yell. 

Techno paused at the entrance and dipped his head back, his hand bordering the door frame. He grinned slightly to the point where his sharper canines were visible, and called out to them in departure.

“See you around, kid.”

Bow raised, arrow drawn, Techno crept low on the forest ground with cautious and calculated steps. 

The overgrown leaves above provided a gentle shading that shielded the majority of the sunlight, only few splotches breaking through. It had been too long since Techno went hunting, the sport lost to him since his recent adventures and scenery in the very south. 

As he had been traveling for days on end to meet with his brothers’ call, he thought to gather food and see through with his lost skill; he had devoted a majority of his time in peaceful solitude to farming and raising cattle, he wasn’t as skillful as he used to be. 

Keeping that in mind, as his eyes narrowed from the close rustling of a bush before him and he approached meaningfully, he failed to noticed the grown roots that broke through the dirt. 

With a small yelp, his foot became stuck and he fell hard onto his face.

A small rabbit hopped out of the shrubbery and stopped briefly near him as if in mockery to his embarrassing failure before bouncing away. 

Technoblade groaned, both from pain and the circumstances, and gave up any hope for moving in shame when the voices began to mock him. 

“Well that wasn’t very royal of you.”

While his memory failed him more often than not, he recognized the voice specifically over the chaos that reigned in his ears. Contemplating the next-least humiliating course of actions, he settled on pretending nothing happened. 

“Like I said the last time,” he sighed while pushing himself up, “I’m not royalty.”

Brushing off the dirt that stained his clothes and skin, Techno turned to the child’s voice and jerked startled when their entertained countenance was closer than what he expected. They were hanging upside down with their legs hooked on a low, but sturdy branch. 

Face smug, they crossed their arms and openly snickered. 

“Agreed, you are far less graceful than what I expect them to be.”

Techno shook his head and searched for his bow, the old relic more traditional and practical in comparison to his crossbow for hunting. He hummed when spotting it and tried to shift the conversation. 

“What are you doin’ out here, kid?”

Pulling themself up in a sitting position, they swung their feet wildly and looked around the woodlands with a shrug. 

“I live here.”

Freezing mid crouch with his bow in hand, Techno’s words were slow following after. 

“Out here?”

“Mhmm.”

There was a pause as Techno looked at them confused. His brows furrowed fro their vague input. 

“In the trees?”

“Sometimes,” they sang. Leaping forward, they landed smoothly onto their feet and raised their eyes to the sky. “It depends on my mood, and whether or not I want to see the stars.”

“Ah.”

With that, Techno turned and started to walk away. His hunting attempt was a mistake that cost him a bullying teenager that apparently lived in the woods and was homeless, the voices adding onto his internal torment; he wanted to leave as fast as he could.

Racing their steps ahead of him, y/n began to walk backwards to address him directly. 

“Why are you here? I assume you don’t live near here since you dress like an old, aristocratic woman with modesty insecurities.”

Techno looked ahead without faltering considering their playful jab, and they tried for an answer again. 

“Plus you haven’t been around for weeks.”

Steps slowing, Techno was genuinely surprised to hear their observation and glanced at them with an inclined head tilt. 

“You looked for me?”

Caught in their own web, y/n timorously avoided his stare. 

“The town’s always busy with newcomers, travelers, royalty,” they emphasized with a pointed look at him, “trust me when I say you stick out like a sore thumb. Your turn.”

Nodding from their reasonable, but untrue explanation, it was Techno’s turn to glance away while formulating a response. 

“I’ve been… uh, explorin’, you could say.”

In a paralleling manner, they copied his previous nod despite their skepticism. 

“I see. And now?”

“Now I’m visitin’ an old friend, old relations.”

“Ahhh. Girlfriend?”

Technoblade stopped walking altogether and incredulity gawked at them. 

“What?”

“Boyfriend?” y/n continued, now turning with their back facing him. Techno rushed to meet there stride and spoke down to them.

“No, stop it.”

Hand to their chin, they pretended to reach another revelation with wide eyes. 

“Ohh I get it now, distant family.”

“You can be quiet now,” Techno grumbled. Smacking his forehead, he rubbed it exasperated while their joy became evident in their cheerful tone.  

“Are they misunderstanding?” the teen asked, their cheeks flushed excitedly from his apparent discomfort. “Is it the person-friend they don’t approve of?”

“I’m leaving now.” Techno hurried his pace as to leave the forest ground.

“They rude? Unbearable? Selfish? Annoying?”

“You know what,” he stated, spinning to them to clarify since they had stopped walking entirely behind him, “yes.”

“Ooo which one?”

“Annoyin’, and you remind me so much of them.”

The trees were now clear as the plains had become more visible during their trek. Strapping the long, recurve barbow over his head and around his chest, Techno thought the exchange done and allowed the sun to bask over him. 

Before he could make his way to his camp, their voice yelled out to him. 

“Aww that’s sweet!”

Perplexed to how anything of what he said could be seen as ‘sweet’, his curiosity got the better of him and he turned again. 

“You consider me like family? I’m touched!”

Eyes narrowed, Techno bowed his head it defeat once again. He could never win with them, could he?

“‘kay, I’m done with this. Goodbye.”

Y/n waved avidly with a wide grin in spite of him not looking. 

“See you around, Sir Blade!”

“You should consider yourself lucky.”

The stillness was deafening. Regardless of the wind that howled outside and forced the shudders to rattle upon constant impact, or the fire the lit the room bright in heat and warm tone color, the quiet was tense when y/n awoke in Techno’s house. 

“I saw the smoke burn miles out. Had the wind changed its course, I would have never noticed.”

As his back was turned to them, Techno pulled the cork from his most recent regeneration brew and poured it briskly into a small mug, its small rippling sound overtaking the room. With a plate of bread he prepared beforehand, he finally addressed them with the sustenance in hand. 

Y/n was completely engulfed in the large bedding they rested in, Techno’s bedding. Their arms were wrapped tightly with gauze that covered their forearms all the way to their chest. Eyes sunken and dark, they squinted heavily from recently awakening with ashen hair that matted to their face. 

“Is everyone alright?” they asked, voice faint yet rough from the intense smoke inhalation and damage they sustained in the event. Coughing from speaking for the first time, Techno was quick to hand them the potion. 

They downed the drink voraciously, and he decided to speak while they ate. 

“Everyone that managed to escape, probably. But those that did fled long before I arrived.”

Glancing at down at them, Techno could only sigh at the sight. They were so small under his gaze, and he shifted his attention to the nearest wall with crossed arms. 

“It’s one thing to help others, it’s another when takin’ on a raid by yourself.”

His pointed comment caused them to snap and try to defend themself, however, they moved to suddenly and winced from the slight movement. Despite his frown, Techno’s hands were raised gently with concerned eyes from their evident pain. 

Breathing in and out harshly, they were still hunched over when they glared up at him in anguish. 

“You didn’t hear them scream, you didn’t hear them yell for mercy. You weren’t there, but I was. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.” Their voice cracked near the end, and with vast tears that escaped, a broken sob filled the space as they hid their face ashamed. 

Techno was at a loss when comforting others, but he wasn’t a jerk to ignore someone after surviving a tragic incident, one they tried to fight yet lost to. 

Slowly, he moved to sit on the bed side. He clenched his fist shut in hesitance, but steadily, he hovered his hand over them before stroking their back reassuringly. 

“Listen, kid,” pausing, Techno caught himself and cleared his throat, “Y/n, I know you barely know anything about me but trust me. I understand how it feels, how it must’ve felt then to be overwhelmed by sudden cries that surround you to the point that you make rash decisions. Trust me when I say I get it.”

Their cries died down from his words, and he spoke earnestly as they listened more closely in smothered hiccups. 

“I respect what you tried to do in the end, but you have to be self aware that you’re still just a kid.”

His blunt statement made them freeze, and when the fully processed what he said, they dropped their hands to scowl at him incredulously. Their red eyes are hard and made him laugh from his lack of explanation to his true meaning. 

“Hey, I never said it was the age that was at fault.”

Pulling his arms away, he grasped his hands together and rested his elbows to his knees, though his focus was still on them. 

“You’re young, and young means inexperienced. Give yourself some leeway and accept your limits that come with time.”

They looked down from his attentive eyes, but still nodded when understanding his perspective. 

Rubbing the bottom of his chin with the back of his hand, Techno attempted to further the conversation amiably. He was out of his depth socially, but he was trying for their sake. 

“Besides all that, I have to say you can definitely fight.” Their eyes shot up to meet his, the acclaim unexpected. Their face was too emotionally soft for Techno to look at, so he turned away before speaking with a joking smirk. 

“Though I’m not too sure about your close combat.”

Gawking at the audacity, y/n lightly smacked his arm and scoffed. A smile crept on their face as they shook their head from the backhanded compliment. 

“You try training with a tree, they don’t always fight back.”

His snicker grew from their weak justification, and eventually, they joined his laughing fit. Helpless giggles replaced the once solemn air. While it soon died down, the elation of each other’s company still remained. 

Techno rose from the soft mattress and crossed his arms loosely in thought. With a single nod, his monotoned voice encouraged them considerately.

“Get some rest, we can talk later.”

Like his past departures, his steps were fast and large as he moved to exit. His hand pulled the door with him, but a shy call of his name stopped him from closing it fully shut.

“Technoblade.”

His head peaked from behind the wooden door and was met with soft eyes that expressed more gratitude than words could convey. 

“Thank you.”

“No thanks needed, kid.”

Bonus:

Shutting the door gently, Techno walked into the kitchen space with a sigh. He rubbed his eyes from the hours he spent watching them unconscious after tending to them, and heeded the voices’ command for food (real food for once, not blood).

He leisurely approached the pantry, and without turning to address him, spoke lowly.

“Not a single, word.”

Phil lowered the book in his hand and raised a hand defensively with a shrug. He was sat in the living room, obscured in the large armchair from the kitchen; Techno was aware of his presence, however, and knew of his routine.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Phil called out, though Techno was quick to respond. 

“Phil, you are the least stealthy person on this planet.”

“No, no, I’m serious. I have nothing to say.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Techno murmured a sure and moved to the front door, an apple in one hand and bag full of produce tucked in his other arm. He stated that he was going check on the animals and slammed the door close harshly.

Moments passed as Phil sat in silence, save for the crackling fire that roared beside him, before speaking as if he could still hear him. 

“To think, I sent you to the store and you brought back a kid.”

[dollslayer]

Botanical Interest - Thorns

Soft!Mob!Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: After dating the notable mobster Steve Rogers for a couple months you think you’ve got him figured out. An altercation in an alley leaves you questioning whether or not that’s true. 

W/C: 1995

Warnings: Violence, angst, fluff, swearing

A/N: Holy smokes! I am completely overwhelmed by the love that the first part to this story has received. Obviously, I couldn’t help myself so I wrote a part 2 also as an entry for @stargazingfangirl18 ‘s 5k soft dark challenge! Using the Mob!Au and the dialogue prompt “Oh, Honey, you weren’t supposed to see that”.

If you want you can check out part one here and my other mob fic here! Cheers!

Botanical Interest Masterlist I Main Masterlist

______________________________ 6pm was fast approaching as you began to close up shop for the day. Steve was here to pick you up for dinner and much to your embarrassment walked in on you having a very difficult conversation argument with a very difficult customer over pricing and promotion. Having run your small business on your own for years you knew how to hold your own but you completely froze when you saw Steve enter the shop out of the corner of your eye. 

“I- listen Mr. Andersen, I appreciate all the business that your venues have given me but I can’t afford a raise in advertising prices right now. I’ve been reliable and trustworthy and I’ve always treated your venues with respect. I’ve never been an issue for you, please don’t raise the rate. Wedding season is coming up and I need the exposure.” 

You tried to bargain with him quietly, hoping the music overhead would prevent Steve from hearing but it was a low volume and a small shop. You’ve only been dating for a couple months. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him, especially not at work. 

Mr. Andersen exhaled sharply. You could tell he was annoyed at you for the pushback. “Look, I’m sorry but we can’t be making exceptions every time a business owner comes groveling.” 

Tears stung your eyes, you really did generate a lot of business through Andersen’s venues. They listed you as one of their recommended vendors to their clients, it’s been huge for you. Knowing that Steve was there made this even worse. “If I’d have known you were going to cry like this I would’ve just done it over email I mean really-”

“That’s enough.” Steve cut him off before he could humiliate you any further. He sent a quick text and shoved his phone back in his pocket before pulling himself to his gull height and squaring his shoulders. “You’ve done enough, now get out.”

A scoff from Andersen and a harsh glare directed towards you and he was on his way out of the building. Steve’s phone vibrated but he didn’t check it. Instead he walked over to you and extended his arm to rub your back. 

“Are you okay? That guy was a total fucking prick to you, you don’t deserve that.” Steve consoled you. He seemed calmer than you expected for having just witnessed something like that. You’ve seen him agitated but never upset. Maybe he was restraining himself for you but it didn’t matter, you appreciate him being there for you. 

“I’m fine, I just need to finish closing up shop and we can get to dinner. Just give me a minute” you said as you began to sweep up. 

“Alright, sweetheart. I’m double parked so I’m gonna go to the car and try to find a space.” You nodded as hummed along to the music. 

____________________________

As Steve left the shop he pulled his phone out and checked his text from Thor ‘we got him’. When Steve heard that man talk to you like that he knew you didn’t want him to threaten Andersen and make the situation worse. You were already on the verge of tears so he decided to ask one of his men to hold Andersen out back where he could have a few words with him. 

Stepping around the corner into the alley behind your shop he took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He needed to be quick so you wouldn’t find out. He didn’t want to upset you further, he just wanted this guy to know that you can’t treat his girl like that. And maybe he could be talked into giving her the advertising for free.

“So you think you can talk to my girl like that huh?” He questioned. Andersen looked like Thor had already punched him once in the process of restraining him. Thor’s hold on Andersen’s arms tightened. 

Andersen was scared, but not scared enough to Steve’s liking. Before Andersen had the opportunity to answer Steve cocked his fist back and launched it directly to Andersen’s jaw. “Shit! I’m sorry, I didn’t know. We’re expanding and we need the money so I have to raise-”

Before the excuse could be finished Steve hit him again. “Stop! Please!” Andersen begged.

Steve chuckled. “No I don’t think I will. I can’t just let people go every time they grovel to me. They’d never learn.” Another punch landed. 

“You’re not gonna raise your prices for her. In fact, you’re gonna call her up in a couple days and apologize by offering her advertising free of charge for all of your venues. Do you understand?” Steve asked coolly. 

Andersen coughed up some blood. “I- I can offer her half price but I can’t just waive the cost like that!”

“Not good enough.” Steve punched him even harder, Andersen was nearly knocked out. Steve thought about the tears that slipped from his girl’s eye and couldn’t stop himself. He struck Andersen one more time with a growl and his head hung limp between his shoulders. Just then he heard the sound of shattering glass behind him and froze, hand still in a fist. 

_____________________________________

Finally done with most of your tasks all you had to do was take out the garbage and empty the vase of leftover stems from bouquets into the dumpster. You opened the back door just in time to see Steve land a brutal punch to Mr. Andersen’s cheekbone. Mr. Andersen’s head fell and it was clear he had been knocked out cold. 

You hadn’t even realized you’d dropped the vase until you felt the shards fall around your feet. You couldn’t look away when Steve looked up at you with wild eyes, you’d never seen him so angry. You felt the way you did the day you met him. Nervous and frozen in place.

His face instantly fell and through his heavy breathing said “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.” He was trying to relax his features as he approached you but you could only take steps back and into the shop like a scared animal being cornered. 

Your heart was hammering in your chest and you couldn’t tell if you were more angry or scared. You held your hands out in front of you and stammered “I’d better.. I need to lock up shop I’ll um, I’ll go”. “Sweetheart wait!” Too late. You shut the back door and locked it behind you. 

You went to your back office and sat down, not even sure where to go from here with this. You two had talked about his work a bit, it wasn’t like it could be avoided forever, you just didn’t think he’d bring it into yours. You weren’t scared of Steve doing something like that to you, you were scared of that look in his eyes. His capability of doing something like that with little thought.

Oh, God, what does this mean for the shop? Mr. Andersen will have you blacklisted. He’ll tell every wedding planner in Brooklyn. Now your heart was hammering for a whole other set of reasons. Too busy spiraling as you thought about it all you didn’t hear the bell of the front door ring. 

A knock on your open office door pulled you out of it and you looked up to find Steve. He wore what looked like a truly regretful expression on his face. You fought the urge to yell at him. You’re an adult, you’re going to talk about this like adults. Let him say his piece. 

He had straightened up, his hands were clean and his jacket was back on. He gave a heavy sigh. “Sweetheart, I don’t even know where to begin. I’m sorry you had to see that side of me, but I want you to know I would never ever do anything like that to you or anyone close to you. I only want what’s best for you.”

“And that’s punching one of my main sources of income?” You snapped. You appreciated the apology but you were getting too worked up in anger thinking about the future of the shop.

He was a little miffed at the outburst and became defensive. “That man disrespected you, disrespected your work. No one talks like that to my girl. That’s how we settle things in my world!” 

“Well you’re not in your mob world right now you’re in mine! And things don’t get handled like that! Do you have any idea the toll that could take on my business? He’s gonna have me blacklisted by the end of the day if he wakes up.” The last words came out a bit broken as you felt more tears build. You were more worried about the business than anything. 

Steve walked around the desk to console you just like he had not twenty minutes ago. He gently put a hand on your forearm. “You’re right. It’s not my world, it wasn’t my call to make and I had no right to react like that. I didn’t even think about that. The way he was talking to you, I just.. I got so mad. You work so hard and you don’t deserve that. Sometimes I forget there’s more than one way to handle things.”

Okay, that went better than expected. This is what made Steve so interesting to you. Steve was funny and sweet and charming as hell, but beyond all that there was this tender heart. He was dangerous but he was also fiercely loyal. He was more than a mobster and he was better than the brute force he used. It’s why you were able to accept that part of him, because it wasn’t his entire life, it didn’t consume him.

“Thank you for saying that,” You said quietly. You looked up to him and could tell that he really did feel bad. “I accept your apology and I appreciate it. But you have to make things right with Mr. Andersen. I’ll pay the new rate but you have to apologize before it’s too late.”

_________________________

Steve was beginning to harbor resentment towards himself for fucking this up for you. Andersen just made him see red, he has such a hard time shutting that part of himself down. You work so hard and care so much there’s just no way he could let that stand. He just hoped to work through it and move on. He really didn’t wanna screw it up.

Steve was much more at ease knowing you accepted his apology. “I won’t like it but I can do that. It’s only fair. Can I make it up to you over dinner? We’ll make a quick stop to the hospital to set things straight with Andersen.” When you shut the door in his face in the alley he had Thor take him to the hospital. He’d call another town car to get home. 

He’ll apologize to Andersen and pay the hospital bill, but you’re not paying the increased rate. No way. Steve will pay him off enough that he won’t be telling anyone about the altercation, either. Win-win in his eyes.

You leaned your head against his shoulder in slight exhaustion and nodded. “Can we forget the reservation? I really want breakfast food right now.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “Of course sweetheart, you wanna get takeout and go back to mine?” He felt you nod. “Yes, please”. 

“Let me just order a car and we’ll be on our way. I’m sorry again, sweetheart, I promise I’m gonna make it right even if that guy’s a douche.” You laughed a little bit and wiped the few tears that stayed in your eyes.

“So.... your girl, huh? Is that like some mob slang term I don’t know about? Are we official?”

A smile graced his lips. “I’d like to be, if you would.” 

You smiled back at him. “I might be persuaded with waffles.” 

[rexx-lapis]

His favorite little farmer// Bull!hybrid Shigaraki x Reader

-> You work as a care keeper in a farm specializing in caws and bulls hybrids. You love all of them but you just can’t help but caring a little bit more for your little Tomura, who in your eyes look so helpless. What you don’t know is that you’re not the only one having not so professional thoughts. So what happened when your favorite hybrid tells you he wants a mate.

Tags: Lot of smut and it’s intense. Bull hybrid Shigaraki. Mention of mating, of knotting. Anal, milking, prostate stimulation, use of toys, sub Shigaraki. Lot of cum. Dacryphylia. Jealous reader and possessive Tomura. Lot of fluff, they just love each other very much. Reader is gender neutral.

I’ve red @hanji-is-life post on bull Bakugou and Deku and I just got a huge brain rot :((

Shigaraki could spend hours just looking at you. From his stable, he loved watching you work, you were so pretty. You were working so hard in the farm, always carrying something and taking good care of the cows. He loved you so much, and that meant a lot because you were the only farm keeper that he allowed to get close to him. None of the others could approach him without getting nasty bites and all. Every bull had their favorite keeper. Bakugou, Kirishima and even Midoriya had their favorite but in the end they all took turn to take care of the bulls. But not you. You were his one and only. No one was mad at him for that, not even you. They all understood. He wasn’t like the others, as he arrived in the farm in a pitiful shape. He was deadly skinny, hurt, and traumatized, unable to let a human near him. Mistreatments towards hybrid were current even more in farms. But farms like he was right now was the proof that it was possible to met good people. You had been the one to take care of him when he arrived, you fed him, washed him, made sure he wasn’t cold. You even slept in the stale next to him to make sure he was okay during the night. Slowly he had warm up to you, as he was becoming a bit more healthy every day. He was still not the biggest bull of the farm but he looked so much better. All because you took care of him. And you were so understanding, taking his defense and never pressuring him into having interaction with others. The only person he needed was you anyway.

“Hi Tomu, how are you today?

-I’m fine... And you?

-I am doing great! The weather is perfect today!”

He smiled slightly, so happy you were here with him.

“Do you want to go outside for a bit? I’ll clean your stable as you go outside.

-Can’t I just stay here with you?

-Tomu, you need to go outside a bit.”

But he really wanted to stay with you. He knew you needed space to work and that he’ll be able to see you soon but he couldn’t help it.

“If you’re nice after you’re time outside I’ll groom you!”

He finally nodded, excited to come back so you can take care of him. You lead him to the outside field, choosing one that was empty, knowing he preferred to be alone. You waved at him goodbye, your hand brushing his shoulder. His ears fluttered and he blushed slightly. He watched you go back inside, noticing how your hips sway from right to left. He couldn’t take his eyes away from your ass until you disappeared behind a wall.

“So you gonna do something about that little farmer or?”

He turned around seeing Bakugou, Midoriya, and Kirishima, in the field next to his. He looked at the wood barrier that separated them from him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.

-Oh so she isn’t yours? You’re not interested?

-I didn’t say that”, he said firmly.

Of course you were his.

“Bakugou is right Shigaraki, look it worked out for us! I have no idea how, but somehow it worked out.

-It’s literally so easy for you, she is basically caring about you all the time.

Yeah! She is your personal keeper!”

He couldn’t deny the fact that he wanted you. So bad it sometimes kept him awake at night. Even more when he was seeing how the others all had their little mate for themselves. He was even more jealous when the rut season was coming in and that they all had their personal keeper to take care of it. That was maybe because they all were part of the breeder program. Maybe if he agreed to it, you would let him breed you. Just thinking about made him excited.

“You know how some of us had to battled to get them to let us claim them like that. Bakugou literally had to fight.

-Hey!

-It’s true, they had to put you in an isolated stable just because of it.

-He was in time out. Just like a little kid.

Do you want to die?”

Shigaraki stopped listening. But they were right. He needed to act up.

“Oi Tomu! Ready to go back ?” He turned toward your voice, to see you wave at him. He ran toward you, ready to go back.

“Guys, do y’all want to go back inside ?

-No thanks Y/n!

-Ok, be nice then”

You walked in front of him, and he realized how much you were swinging your hips. Maybe he was just noticing it now? Or maybe you were doing it on purpose? What if you were gonna go into heat soon?! No, humans did not have heat. Not that he knew about. He came back to a clean stable, a lot of food, and he even saw a few treats that were not supposed to be here.

“Shhh, don’t say anything. I don’t need to be accused of doing favoritism.”

He chuckled, getting ready for the grooming session. He couldn’t wait. And god he did not regret anything. Your gentle fingers were playing in his fur, detangling everything, you even braided the hair on his head , taking them away from his face. It felt so good. You applied the cream he needed for his skin condition around his eyes, smiling proudly. Your dropped to your knees in front of him suddenly, your face inches of his crotch. You were just checking his hooves, but fuck, he could feel himself get hard. It didn’t help that you started touching his thighs, squeezing them amazed.

“You become so strong Tomu, look at you”

Yeah he had become strong, for you, so you could be proud of him and proud to be his mate.

“Y/n?

-Yes?

-I would like to become a breeder.”

You stopped your movement, staying silent.

“Y/n?

-Y-eah sorry. Hm of course you can. It’s normal. You need a mate after all.”

Ah. There has been a misunderstanding.

“I have to go. I’ll let you know when we’ll start the program okay?”

You almost ran out of the stable, leaving him alone and sad. Fuck, why didn’t he simply told you he needed you. He didn’t need a mate, he needed you to be his mate. He felt like breaking the door and running after you. Maybe he should have followed Bakugou’s method and just tell you right up that he needed to knot you. No definitely no... He really hoped he didn’t made you sad, or that you were mad at him. It would kill him.

Your heart was clenching in your chest. What was even that pain? Why did you felt like someone had stabbed you. It was stupid, you knew that day would come. It was selfish of you to react like this. It was in his nature, he needed a mate. You already had blocked him enough. You still cried under the shower this same night. The next day you found yourself talking with your colleagues about it. Most of the bull who were used for reproduction, didn’t have any contacts with the cows. They often were violent and cows were too precious for this. But the softer ones had the chance to chose a mate and actually have a physical relationship with them. That would probably be the case for Shigaraki you thought. You needed to ask him what he thought of it. You arrived at his stable, surprised not to see him look at you. He was always up at this hour normally. You called his name, but he didn’t answer. Worried you opened his stable, just to find him laying down on the hay.

“Tomura is everything okay?”

You looked around, noticing he had not eat any of the thing you had gave him yesterday. Worried you kneeled next to him, touching his shoulder gently. He did not react, but you still heated a little noise. A sob.

“Tomu, love, tell me what’s wrong, please I’m so worried...”

He turned around a bit and you could see he had cried, his pretty red eyes puffy. You even noticed how his neck and under eyes seemed to be red, like he scratched it.

“I’m sorry Y/n. I made you sad.

-No, Tomu, you didn’t. What are you talking about.

-Yesterday. You left upset with me. I hate it. I can’t live with you being upset.

-I was not upset baby. It’s all my fault. I was selfish by reacting like this. But it’s totally normal to want a mate. Tomu, baby, you don’t have to care about me.

-But I don’t want a cow, I want you.

-What?”

He sat down, looking at you in the eyes.

“If I told you I wanted to be a part of the program it just because I wanted you to help me. Like the others are doing. I don’t want to breed anyone. Just you.”

Your heart was going to explode. He wanted you, you thought. You heart was swelling from happiness.

“Y/n, don’t cry please” he cried out panicking.

“No baby it’s fine. I’m just happy. Fuck, I would love to help you.”

He took you in his arms, almost tackling you to the ground. All you could hear was little “don’t cry” coming from him.

You ended up leaving him alone, as you still made sure he was eating correctly. He suddenly seemed way more relaxed, even though you could see a deep blush on his cheeks. His little ears were fluttering and his tail was moving from right to left excitedly. You busied yourself all day, not seeing Shigaraki much. Bakugo and Midoriya had break into a fight and you and an other helper had to take them away from each other. Midoriya told you that his rut was going to come soon and that he couldn’t stand when Bakugou came too close from one of your colleagues. The worst was that Bakugou had no interest in them, he had his own favorite keeper, he just liked to mess with Deku. You decided that those two won’t be having any contacts until their rut had passed. You reassured Deku that his s/o was fine and that they’ll come see him soon. You put him in a stable far away from the others, where he would be in a calm environment. You finally finished your day way later than usual. You were exhausted and felt like you needed a thousand showers. But you still decided to go and see how Shigaraki was doing before going to sleep. When you arrived he was already looking for you, his eyes shining as he saw you getting closer.

“Oi Y/n! You look tired .... What happened

- We had to separate Midoriya and Bakugou earlier, they are going into rut. So I had a lot of work. It was a long day.”

You saw him look at you with more attention, his eyebrows knitted tightly. He looked a bit mad when he approached his head from you, his little nose pressed against your neck, you jolt in surprise when you felt the metal of his septum piercing against your neck.

“You smell like him....

-Like who?

-Deku...

-Well I worked with him so...

-I don’t like it. Normally you smell more like me...”

He never acted territorial toward you before. Maybe it was because of your new arrangement. You would need to talk to him about it, even if you new it was probably useless. None of the other bulls had been reasonable till now. You doubted he would be an exception. You finally left him, promising him to take a shower as soon as you were home and to come back the day after smelling all clean. You’ve never been that happy to leave in the house near the farm. A bunch of other keepers had decided to leave here together as it was cheaper and so close from work. You took a shower like promised and ate something before going to bed. Before going to sleep, you decided to do a bit of research. You knew how breeding worked. You had to supervise the thing a few time which had mortified you at first. Now you learned how to get detached and let the hybrids do their things while you were working somewhere else. But the “milking” part of the process kinda made you worried. You never had that much intimacy with an hybrid. You knew some of your colleagues had and that they even went further than just the milking. There was nothing wrong with that. It was actually pretty common between hybrids and humans. But you were a shy person, in that area at least. Thinking about just touching Shigaraki like that made a wave of arousal travel through your body. You didn’t know if you were supposed to feel like this. Maybe he wasn’t asking for this. He just wanted you to do this as a professional. And you were here, thinking about it as if you were talking about your boyfriend. After re reading the method a few time, the last thing you wanted was to hurt him in some way, you went to sleep, head full of a certain hybrid.

Shigaraki slept way better than the night before, but he was still annoyed about the smell situation. Maybe he should start senting you. After all you were his. He knew he was starting to get into his rut too. Soon every bull around here would be in the same situation. It was spring so it was expected. But this time he would spend it with you and fuck he couldn’t help but be happy about it. He woke a bit early so he would clean his stable, he didn’t want to make it look messy for when you’ll come. He knew it was ridiculous but he couldn’t help it. He even cleaned himself, making sure nothing was caught in his fur. He felt suddenly so hot, he couldn’t wait for you to come. Maybe it was the general tension in the air. Knowing that there was other bull in rut around here. It made him crazy. Why couldn’t you just hurry? Maybe you weren’t even gonna do anything today. What if he got his hopes up and you weren’t planning on doing anything today? He looked at how hard he was becoming, kinda embarrassed.

“Hey Tomu!”

He jumped at the sound of your voice. You looked so pretty today. You looked pretty every day but he couldn’t point his finger on what made you look so beautiful today. Maybe it was the way you styled your hair, the makeup you wore when you usually didn’t.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. Didn’t you hear me come your way?” You chuckled.

He had to have you, he thought.

“So Tomu, I wanted to ask you when you wanted to start the breeding program. Bakugou and Midoriya are already in rut, normally yours start soon after, doesn’t it?

-It’s starting I think...”

His voice was quiet and you could see the blush on his cheeks and how he seemed more tense than usual.

“Oh okay... I’m gonna take your temperature and I’ll see from there.”

You placed the little tube on his tongue, waiting a minute before looking back. Yeah he was definitely entering his rut.

“ Ok Tomu, I’m gonna get ready and I’ll be back. We should wait till you’re completely in heat to start. Do you need me to explain how the procedure work?”

You were speaking so much words and he wasn’t even listening to them. He could only concentrate on your face, watching your lips move. He took a deep breath and he could smell you. So strong. You smelled so good.

“Don’t leave now, fuck, I need you”

You seemed conflicted for a bit.

“Ok I’ll be back in a minute, I swear it’ll be quick but I need to get something”

You didn’t let him answer as you were already leaving. He was gonna die if you didn’t come back quickly. None of his rut had been that hard on him before. It generally was longer than it was intense and it took a all day to settle down. But today his entire body was on fire and he was already so hard. You ran as fast as you could toward the office. You had let everything you needed there. You never grabbed a bag so fast, the other hybrids were looking at you weirdly when they saw you running through the farm. You came back to Tomura’s stable finding him on his knees, his cock in his hand .

“Y/n... fuck please”

He looked so gorgeous. His cock was an angry red, leaking precum like crazy. You dropped to your knees, next to him trying to comfort him a bit. You needed to get him in position so you could prep him, but he didn’t look like he wanted to move. He couldn’t stop pumping his length, not being able to cum.

“Ok I need you to get on your knees baby, you can do this for me?”

He whined but still did what you told him. He was arching his back, his cute little ears were flat against his hair. His tail was swiping in the air almost hitting you. You took the bottle of lube, squirting some on your gloved hands. He was too far gone to see anything at this point but you still wanted him to know what was going to happen. You lubbed the the upper part of what looked like a suction cup, making sure the milking tool won’t hurt him. You touch his shoulder making him look at you. You almost moan when you saw his red cheeks, teary eyes, drool almost dripping out of his mouth.

“I’m gonna put this on you baby, are you ready?

-No I want you. Not that please Y/n!

-This first, I promise I’m gonna touch you, I’ll make you feel really good.”

He didn’t say anything, you were already grabbing him in your hand. He was so heavy, throbbing against your palm. Fuck he would feel so good inside you. You stroked him a few times not being able to resist seeing him cry and buck his hips in your hand. You placed the lubbed part against his tip, his eyes falling on your hand.

“What is it?” He asked his voice quiet.

“It will help you... stay stimulated...It’s the same process we used for the cows”

It indeed looked the devices that were used to milk the cows. You pushed it down his length, watching it get swallowed. You watched Tomura, watching his eyes rolled in his head, tongue out of his mouth. Fuck you wish that was you. You wish you were the one making him feel this good.

“Ok baby, now I’m gonna touch you ok?

-Yes more !”

He threw his ass in the air, his hooves hitting the ground hard. You touched his fur, silky against your palm. Your hand caress the curve of his ass, gently spreading his cheeks.

“Y/n!

-Yes?

-W- why are you touching me there?

He didn’t had the time to answer before you push one finger inside. He gasped, throwing his head back.

« Y/n ! F-fuck »

You forgot everything when you saw him starting to rock his hips,your finger getting deeper inside him. You slowly put another finger in, his flesh already so tender you did not met any resistance. You crooked you fingers inside, your finger tips digging into his flesh’ hitting his sweet spot hard. He screamed, arching his back cumming so hard it made his entire body shake. He kept cumming as you didn’t stop moving your fingers.

« More! Please more! »

You added a new finger, the third one stretching him wide.

« Fuck, Tomura, you came so hard you’re so good. Your little hole is swallowing my fingers »

He moaned, clenching more and you looked at the tube seeing more and more cum dripping inside.

«  I’m gonna milk you hard love, you’re so pretty like this fuck »

The words were just coming out of your mouth shamelessly at this point. You knew it was not professional, but you couldn’t help it. He was driving you crazy, his pretty face was flushed, his eyes full of tears, lips bitten red and all wet with drool.

« I can’t stop! It feels too good, can’t stop- »

His voice was broken, and he was trusting his hips, making harder and harder for you to hold him down.

« I want to be inside you, please Y/n! Please! I want to cum inside- »

You wanted that to, so bad, but you knew you couldn’t right now.

« A little more love »

He was shaking from all his limbs. Your fingers started to get tired from all this, but with a final twist of your wrist, you pressed three fingers hard against his flesh, making him collapsed from pleasure.

« Too much, it hurts, please »

He was shaking on the ground, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. You stopped the movement with your fingers. You let him go of the equipment, finally freeing his cock. You looked at the machine, impressed by the amount of cum.

« Tomu are you okay? »

He nodded slowly, smiling as he felt your hand on his hair.

“It still feels good...

-I didn’t hurt you right?

-No...”

You took him in you arms, laying in the hay with him, murmuring in his ear how much you loved him. He looked so vulnerable right now, but here he was, his face pressed against your chest, breathing calmly. You kissed the top of his head, smiling as well.

“I love you, my mate” he said, pressing his lips against his neck.

“I love you too.”

You looked down at him, seeing his eyes closed, his breathing study. You needed to take the material back and to start cleaning, but you felt so good right now. Maybe it could wait a little bit more.

[sweettodo]

Professor ⟿ Hisoka Morow x femreader

Includes : smut, student x teacher

Word count : 2,7k

[STUDENT IS AGED, IN COLLEGE]

••

"Please- please sir, I'll do anything, please don't fail me this semester."

Professor Morow sits in his office chair; hand on his chin as he ponders, he did like the sound of you begging.

••

You could cry.

You could drop out right fucking now. Beyond fed up.

Tutor after tutor, study session after study session since ninth grade never did you any justice, even cheating- peeking over to your neighbors left you with an end result of the huge red D's, F's and C's scribbled onto your paper. You were tearing the hair out of your head.

You couldn't write an English essay even if there was a gun being held to your temple; you weren't necessarily illiterate, but you envied your classmates who could throw together a thesis in an hour lecture, not to mention these giant papers which could've driven you to kill.

Today, bright and early in the morning, here you sit in your English classroom writing a timed essay, an essay about the logistics of capitalism, whatever that meant. Headache booming while you wrote illogical sentences onto lined paper vigorously.

You didn't even bother to read over your work; an hour later you're finally standing up from your seat and shuffling down the row, reaching to drop your paper into the basket, "Miss. Y/l/n, have you looked it over?" Professor asks, you smile and nod, he takes it from you.

"I wrote it sir, I don't need to reread it." You retort, he leans back in his chair and raises an eyebrow at you.

"That's not necessarily what I meant; very well then." He smiles, you go back to your seat and wait for class to be over.

Thirty minutes later, kids are gathering up their bags and papers, scurrying out of the classroom to their next lecture, as you walk out of the double doors into the hallway, your last name is being called and you stop in your tracks, turning around, "yes, Mr. Morow?" You respond, stepping back into the classroom, he stands from his desk, hands patting the black button up as he stands, he waits for you to approach his desk, his arms crossed and he seemed a little irritated.

You approach the front of his desk, nervous, "now, you can't honestly tell me this is your best work." He sighs, you swallow hard, slightly embarrassed, he looked completely unfazed.

"W-well, in my defense Mr-" you stutter, he immediately cuts you off.

"There is no excuse for this lackluster paper." He states, you jump out of your skin, his tone threatening. Everyone always knew not to mess with professor Morow, he was strict and rarely tolerated unprofessionalism. But you- you, always drove him mad, he hated how you acted, he wished he could fail you for the year, being as you were so incompetent.

But that would be immoral or him to stoop that low.

"I should have you rewrite this, do you know how important this is for your grade? Do you want to pass, y/n?" You not, picking at your nails in fear, he was definitely failing you for this semester.

"I'm sorry sir, I try- I really do, it's just I can't bring myself to it." You mumble, head down in total humiliation. "Please- please sir, I'll do anything, please don't fail me this semester." You plead.

Professor Morow sits in his office chair; hand on his chin as he ponders, he did like the sound of you begging.

He sighs and moves towards his bag, opening it and shuffling through papers, pulling out mine, you braced yourself, "you're going to rewrite this, I will swallow my pride and give you a chance, I'd like to see you get higher than a C." He deadpans, you nod, gracious for his generosity.

Handing the essay back to you, "would you like me to do it right now?" You ask, he shakes his head no, closing his bag and picking it up.

"Nope, I'll help you later, you'll have to leave campus for this evening, so clear your schedule." Your eyes widen, he begins walking out, back to you before he peers his head back towards you, "do you want help?"

"Yes, yes sir I do." You sputter, he gives you a half cocked smile.

"That's what I thought." He leaves you breathless as he turns off the lights as he turns the corner out of his class, leaving you there in the barely lit room. You slowly walk out of the empty class, unsure if something like this was even appropriate, 'but it has to be, he's helping you.'

The next few hours would feel like eternity, laying chest up, looking at your ceiling spread eagle bored out of your mind. Waiting for time to pass before you anxiously awaited for later tonight. As you lay there, you hear your phone swoosh, indicating you had just received an email. You sit up and snatch your phone off the bed stand, opening it and seeing an email from the professor.

With an address being the only thing sent to you, you don't bother responding, 'this must be his house,' you spoke out loud, looking at the time on your phone, you might as well get ready, only an hour until you need to leave.

Wearing the same thing you had worn all day, a plain black skirt with a sweater, you just spray perfume over yourself and brush through your hair.

It was only 5pm, but the time of the year brought early darkness; so it was pretty dark by the time you were walking through the parking lot and unlocking your car door. Bag in toe you drive off campus, you scolded yourself for being so, so stupid. How can’t someone write an essay? Not to mention you were at fault for letting it get this bad... a teacher, y/n? A teacher is doing this for you? It was embarrassing.

Soon you're driving up the spiral driveway up towards the large house in your view, nice car in the driveway, lawn well taken care of. It was beautiful. You take off your seatbelt, opening the car door with your bag and keys in hands.

You walk up the path and inhale before you're knocking on the door; waiting a few seconds and the door is opening. Professor Morow allowed you entrance, wearing the same button up and black slacks as earlier in class. We great each other, "follow me, my office is upstairs." He speaks, you follow him up the marble stairs, down the hall and he's opening a beautiful wooden door, a large desk, chairs in front, a couch with a bookcase behind it with stunning red curtains which were closed.

"You have a nice home Mr. Morow, stunning." You breathe, looking around and observing.

"My, well thank you y/n." He hums, sitting in his chair behind the desk, you sit in front of him, taking out your paper along with a notebook and pencil, “I'll have you rewrite, and after each paragraph I'll read it over for you." He says, crossing his leg, you nod.

"I- I wanted to thank you again, for helping me." Yoy mutter, he nods slowly.

"Don't worry, you'll make it up to me." He smirks, motioning to your paper to get you to start; so you do. Starting with your thesis, you spend extra time making sure you think it looked good. You hand it to him and he reads it over, eyes trailing across the page, "not bad, but I know you can write more about the proprieties within some enterprises.” You groaned and quickly started erasing, his hand immediately grabs your wrist, stopping you, “I didn’t say erase it.” He insists, you look up at him, then down at his hand; a big hand wrapped around your wrist obviously didn’t fill your head with appropriate things.

He suddenly stands, walking around the desk and reaches his arm to grab your pencil, his arm flexing next to your head while he rewrites the things you disregarded, your throat hitches, sitting still and tense; intimidated by his cologne aroma and the fact he was inches from you, “what has you so tense?” You internally gasp, heart beating and you see him now standing against his desk to your right. How the fuck could you answer this?

“I-uh, no reason.” You nervously chuckle, he crosses his arms; he didn’t buy it at all.

“Cat got your tongue?” He chuckles, stepping closer to you, you stared up at him, he towered over you, swallowing hard, “no need to be nervous, y/n.” He says. The tension was really thick in the room, you didn’t notice until you found yourself pressing your thighs together for pressure.

“Sir I-” his hand moves, tucking hair behind your ear, instantly silencing you. You’re spinning. Such an authoritative man making you feel small was a new feeling you hadn’t felt before; like you needed to listen to him or else you’d be in some type of trouble.

“I hope you’re paying attention, if you want to do good of course.” He murmurs, dropping his hand back down, you nod slowly, listening to him. “I’ve always known you could be a good girl.” You were stunned, you chewed on the inside of your mouth like crazy as he still stood over you.

“Mr. Morow,” you breathe, nervous, “I need to pass this class.” The desperation in your voice was pitiful, and Hisoka fucking loved it.

He brings his hand up to your jaw, caressing only a little with his thumb, “don’t worry, you’ll get a good grade,” he purrs, thumb running across your bottom lip, agonizingly slow, “open.” Mouth opening immediately. His thumb slides into your mouth and down deeper towards the back of your throat. You look up at him with beady eyes, he licks his lips and smiles.

He pulls out of your mouth, you hesitantly bring your two hands up, lightly touching his belt, his head drops down and he assists you in unbuckling his black leather belt, “my my, such a fast learner, so good.” Your face heats up, fingers working at the zipper of his pants, the tight space was noticeable, the bulge in his pants made you squirm.

Hand grabbing the back of your head, he’s releasing his cock from his open slacks, you braced yourself for the thick and long cock to stab the back of your throat. He holds your hair back out of your face while you’re spitting up the base of his dick, taking the tip between your lips slowly while you looked up at him with those eyes.

Tongue swirling around the tip, his grip tightening on your skull. You push your head further onto him, spit seeping down your chin; taking over, Hisoka pushes your head down all the way to the base, choking and your throat constriction, he groans and pulls you off him quickly, “do you like my cock down your throat princess?” He purrs, index finger lifting up your chin, you nod, he smiles and grabs you from under your shoulder, you stand and he pushes you over the desk, legs locking and you’re held up by your arms.

“Hmm, how about you give me these wrists.” He hums, ripping you off your only stability, side of your face hitting the desk... right on top of your essay. You hear a click followed by another, cold metal now holding your wrists together.

“What, do you just have handcuffs in arms reach for this typa’ thing?” You found it humorous.

Mr. Morow didn’t.

Your skirt flying up, followed by a shard pain on your thigh, you gasp and try to look up; belt in hand, your English professor had whipped you. Hard. Your leg tries to move back but he’s placing his hands on your waist, keeping you still, “tell me, why might your panties be this soaked? I haven’t even touched you.” He had bent down to your ear, vibrations sending you crazy, “do you want me to fuck you? Princess? Fill you up?” You bite down on your lip, he made you tingle just by the sound of his voice.

Another smack of the belt against your ass rings through you and you yelp out in pain, hissing. “Answer me. Go on,” even his soft voice made this sound harsh, you press your forehead against the desk, panting; the pool of wetness most likely slipping down your thighs.

“Fill me up professor, please.” You mewl, he chuckles deeply, the sound of the belt on the floor caused you to sigh out of relief; instead his hands were grabbing your thong, pulling them down slowly and letting them hit your ankles.

“Oh my, so fucking wet.” He hums, pulling apart your ass cheeks to get a better look.

“Sir.” You retort, needy and beyond ready to be fucked at this point.

“Yes?” You tense up, mouth dropping open when you feel his tip stroke up and down your folds, your thighs tremble and shake under his grasp, slowly pushing his throbbing cock into you. You cry out, “use your words, what is it?” He questions you once more.

“So fucking big.” You moan, he pulls your hips further onto his cock; shaping your pussy to his liking, stretching you out and hitting every nerve possible, “oh my god!” His hips finally touching your ass, you twitched and tightened around him, fitting around him accordingly.

“You take my cock so well.” He pulls out, hands tight around your waist as he slowly thrusts you, you gasp and squeal, he didn’t even need to try to hit your gspot. He speeds up, enough to feel that sharp pressure of his head poking at your cervix, his name spilling from your mouth.

“Such a good girl, do you like that?” Ramming into you, your legs wanted to drop as he fucked you numb, his big hand grabs your hair, yanking your head upwards, “answer me.” He grits, you couldn’t, you couldn’t even compose words as he fucked every syllable out of you.

You didn’t answer, he shoves your head down, slamming onto the desk painfully, you wince and he picks up pace, “I told you to answer me,” drilling into you, you’re stomach twisting into a tight knot.

About to reach your hard orgasm, he only fucks harder, screaming out a gasp, “fuck! Your cock feels so good Sir!” You cry.

Your moans and screams were music to his ears, only inching him closer to stuffing you with his kids, “such a good little fruit, you’re sucking me in so good.” He groans, your cum coating his dick, he picked up your arms by the metal chain of the handcuffs, using it as leverage to demolish your insides.

Your wrists sore, makeup dripping down your eyes along with your tears, hair a mess, legs numb and shaking ready to give out, “I’m-I’m gonna cum again!” You wailed, he didn’t change his pace, cock stroking against your sweet spot.

“Do it.” Hips sputtering, only slowing down slightly, you become his cum disposal, dumping his seed into your hot cunt. He’s groaning, panting lightly; throwing your second orgasm into the mix, your slick and his cum pouring down his cock and your thighs, you shook profusely, he massaged your ass with his hands before unlocking the cuffs and pulling you up, dropping to your knees and huffing.

“You took me so well.” He purrs into your ear whilst picking you up by the armpits and placing you in the chair, he wipes under your eyes where most of the mascara was and brushes your hair out of your face, crouching down to your level and pulling your panties over your knees, you lift up a little so he can pull them up completely while watching his every move.

While you composed yourself, he walked back around to his desk, gathering papers together in a stack, “we can finish writing tomorrow, how about that princess?” You smile and nod, relived he wouldn’t put you through the torture tonight.

“Sure,” you say, standing and trying way too hard to walk normally, you pick up your bag and keys, walking towards his office door.

“See you in class tomorrow, professor.”

[raphaelsrightarm]

Hello, can you do a fic were Bayverse Raph and his S.O get into a huge fight and he hurts her feelings and Raph go to her house to ask for forgiveness? Please, I love your writing ❤️

Sour

This took me forever and a day to write but I finally got it to where I’m happy with it. 

Warnings: Some cursing, verbally fighting 

“Raph why can’t you just talk to me?” You trailed closely behind him as tried to make his way toward your window. it had been nearly two weeks since the last time you two had seen each other. Always giving different excuses as to why he couldn’t come to your apartment or why you shouldn’t come down to the lair. You had to fake an emergency just to get him here tonight, and it hasn’t even been five minutes before he was trying to leave.

“There’s nothing to talk about, ok? I told ya, I’ve just been busy.” He barked, spinning around to face you, yet he avoided eye contact. Your brows furrowed. “Oh come on, Raph. We both know that’s bullshit. You can’t just shut me out. I’m right here, so talk to me!” You felt stupid that you had to beg him, but you didn’t want the first time you’d seen him after so long to be filled with fighting. Things seemed to be going so great, then out of nowhere he started distancing himself from you.

“I already told you, there is nothing to talk about! God, why do you have to be on my ass all the time?” Raph began to pace in small circles in front of you as he spoke. “I’m just trying to help!” You defensively take a step back. Raph’s jaw was clenched, the muscles in his arms flexed, as if he were trying to intimidate an enemy.

“I don’t need your help! You really think I need you to fix me? I got along just fine before you came along. All you do is get in my fucking way. I got way too much shit going on for you to be starting all this shit with me. Just leave me the hell alone!” The two of you stood in silence as his words began to bury themselves under your skin. Your eyes were wide as Raph’s eyes avoided you, knowing he would hate himself even more if he had to see the look on your face. Tears began to well up in your eyes, feeling like all the air was knocked out of your lungs. 

“Raph,” You whispered, your voice breaking in the middle of the word. The tears began to fall from your eyes onto your cheeks, but you quickly wiped them away. He looked just as shocked at his words as you were. He couldn’t look at you. Scared to see the impact his words had, instead he quickly turned and climbed out the window. You stood there frozen, not being able to fully process what had just happened. 

It had now been three days since you’d spoken to him. You went through the motions of your day, waking up, going to work, and coming home. It just didn’t feel right. You used to hate being at work for so long, but these past few days you were grateful for them. Anything to distract yourself. You were almost impressed by how good you were at pretending you were fine, like you were falling apart on the inside. Mikey had stopped by the night before to check on you, but after assuring him you would be okay he reluctantly left. 

You checked your phone for the fifth time since you’d come home. Sighing when you saw that there were no notifications from him. You spent the rest of the afternoon doing small things around your apartment that you had just never gotten to, before settling down on your bed. The sun soon had set, and you knew that Raph and his brothers would be leaving soon to patrol the city. The first nights after the fight you had hoped he would stop by to see you, but he didn’t. The longer he was away the more you began to think that he did mean exactly what he said, he never needed you in the first place. 

A fresh collection of hot tears began to fill your eyes as your thoughts began to overwhelm you. It was just then you heard a light tapping on your window behind your curtains. Your head darted in the direction, eyes wide. You slowly rose from your bed and headed towards the window, heart beating rapidly inside of your chest. You pulled the curtains back and sure enough, there he was. Raphael stood on your fire escape, fidgeting his hands as he waited to see what you would do next. He was sure you would just tell him to fuck off and close the curtains. Instead, you slowly opened your window, and took a step back to go sit on your bed, wordlessly inviting him in. He entered your apartment, sheepishly standing a few feet away from you. The silence began to deafen you as you watched him struggle to figure out where to begin. 

“Hey.” You whispered, figuring that this had to start somewhere. It was almost painful just to see him like this, the way he would shift his weight back and forth from each foot, the awkward clenching and unclenching of his fists. He could never seem to be still whenever he was nervous. 

“Hey,” he went to scratch the back of his neck. “I, uh, fuck y/n, I am so sorry. I just, I didn’t mean what I said.” He breathed. He was wracking his mind for the words that could make this right.

“Why were you avoiding me?” You questioned, snapping him out of his thoughts and back into reality. “And don’t try and tell me you weren’t. I just want to know what happened.” He took a step towards you, closing the empty space between the two of you. He knelt before you, looking up into your eyes. 

“I was scared.” He watched you intently, determining whether or not you even wanted to hear it. You knew exactly what he was talking about now. The two of you had plenty of talks about his insecurities regarding your relationship towards the beginning. But the longer you two were together the more those thoughts seemed to disappear. At least until recently. 

“You deserve so much more than me. I’m just scared that you’re going to realize it, I don’t know what I would do without you. I know I should’ve just come to you. I, I’m sorry Y/N.” his voice was quiet, like if he spoke any louder he wouldn’t be able to hold his own tears back. You slowly raised your hand to cup his cheek, his whole body seemed to release the tension it had been holding since the night he left. He slightly leaned into your touch, he then whispered “I love you.” Making you feel like you could finally breathe again. 

The two of you talked for a good bit afterwards. Raph has never claimed to be good with words, but he vocalized to the best of his abilities. He spent the night with you, keeping you wrapped in his arms, his large hands stroking your back until you fell asleep. Raphael knew he could never erase the memory of the fight, but he was going to do whatever it took to reassure you, to prove to you that he did in fact need you. There was nobody else he would rather spend the rest of his life with, and he made sure to take every opportunity to remind you of this. 

[streetlight11]

Neighbour's Fate

Summary: He was your neighbour growing up but he has always been distant. You didn't know for what reasons he chose not to mingle with you or your younger brother. It's been 6 years since you saw him. One day, you best friend asks for a favour from you that would eventually lead you to meeting his close friends. Who would've thought your old neighbour was now one of your best friend's close friends.

Theme: university au, old neighbours to lovers

Genre: fluff, a tad bit of jealousy, a little suggestive

Warning: mentions of anxiety, one or two curse words, very mild harassment (grabbing of wrist, that's all)

WC: 6.5k

Pairing: Seo Changbin x Fem!Reader

a/n: This was just a spur of the moment kind of idea I had the other day, and so this was the work I created... Hope you guys like it :)

Growing up, you lived beside the Seo family. They were a family of four and so were you. Their oldest child was a girl and her name was Seo Jiwoo. Their youngest child was a boy and his name was Seo Changbin. You were pretty close to the girl, to the point where you would always go to school together but the boy had always avoided you for unknown reasons.

He wouldn’t even play with your younger brother. It used to upset you but as you grew up, you realized that you can never force anyone to like someone or do something they didn’t want to do. And for that reason, you ended up letting him be.

However, despite not talking to you as much as his sister did, he was very attentive on small little things and he noticed that you tend to get anxiety attacks whenever you are in front of a huge crowd or the centre of attraction. And he knows this.

You had just entered senior year when you heard news from your parents that the Seo family were moving.

You were sad considering you’re already so close to Jiwoo. But you couldn’t force them to stay there anyways. You accepted the fact that you probably wouldn’t see them anytime soon, maybe not ever. You bid them goodbye, not forgetting to glance at Changbin one last time before they drove off with their boxes loaded into a van.

Two years passed since they moved and you were finally going to college.

You decided to move to Seoul alone and your parents allowed it. Your heart was heavy to leave them behind but they understood that you were doing it because you wanted to further your studies. For that, they willingly let you go.

After graduation, you enrolled yourself into a college with your favourite course, not forgetting to find an affordable apartment for yourself. And that was the start to a new chapter in your life.

4 years passed by in a flash and you had managed to further your studies by going to university. You were currently a Computer Science major in Hankuk University, together with your best friend whom you met in college and have been friends ever since. He was two years younger than you but he was pretty mature for his age, and his name is Hwang Hyunjin.

It was a bright Thursday morning and you were just strolling to your lecture class when someone swung their arm over your shoulder. Right when you were about to curse, the familiar voice warned you.

“Relax, stop being too defensive will you?”

You clicked your tongue at him, seeing him shake his head a little to get his long beautiful blonde bangs away from his eyes.

“Then announce who you are first before putting your arm around me next time, will you?” You scoffed, earning a roll of his eyes. “You’re unbelievable sometimes, you know that?” Hyunjin sighed.

“I appreciate that compliment.”

“Whatever…” Hyunjin could only laugh as the two of you continued to walk to class.

Hours went by, it was currently lunch hour. You made it to the cafeteria in time when there still weren’t many students yet. Hyunjin was walking beside you, telling you stories about his ex-girlfriend whom he caught cheating on him last month when you spotted an empty table a few rows down from you.

With that, you grabbed his shirt and began to drag him to the table before anyone else occupies it. A few minutes later, you were just munching on your smoked squid when someone came to give Hyunjin a handshake.

You looked up to see two guys whom you knew to be in Hyunjin’s dance crew team that represented the campus.

One of them had pretty freckles all over his face while the other one had a cute gummy smile with doe round eyes. They simply acknowledged you with a friendly smile and a nod before walking away.

You’ve never really met Hyunjin’s friends before properly because you were shy.

Even with those two guys, you knew they were part of Hyunjin’s close circle of friends that had other guys from other campuses but you’ve never met them before. You weren’t sure if you even wanted to, if they’re all just going to be as equally good looking as the two dancers from your campus.

A few days later, you were lounging in your living room on a Friday night watching your favourite TV show on Netflix. You were in nothing but panties and a big hoodie that you remembered to be Hyunjin’s but you stole it one night when you slept over at his place after he broke things off with his ex-girlfriend when he found her cheating on him with a friend of his but not from his circle.

You were just seated on your couch with a chocolate almond drink in your hand when you got a text from Hyunjin.

With that, he told you to pick him up at his apartment so that you could go meet his friends at the mall and discuss his plan. It sounds ridiculously dramatic to you but then again, it’s Hyunjin. Nothing’s ever not ridiculously dramatic when it comes to him.

You texted him you’ll pick him up at around 2, in which he said okay. You were scheming through your closet to see what you could wear. You didn’t want his friends to have a bad first impression on you so you opted to wear a little feminine. After rummaging your closet for a good few minutes, you ended up pulling out a baby blue off shoulder, floral print dress.

You’ve worn this out with Hyunjin before once but mostly with your girl friends. You kept your hair simple with a messy low bun, leaving your fringe to frame your face as it parts nicely in the centre.

Once it was time to pick him up, you left your apartment. Not forgetting to bring your purse along to keep your important belongings.

You wore your favourite white Nike air force 1s to pair it with your outfit.

After you’ve managed to pick him up from his apartment, he tells you which mall they promised to meet. The drive there was filled with him complaining to you saying his ex kept bothering him on kakao talk and also social media.

He said he’s had enough so he wants to get back at her to show her that he’s moved on. He told you that she invited him and his friends to her birthday party at her house next weekend.

So he wants to use this chance for his payback.

You simply listened to his plan as you focused on the road ahead of you. Once you’ve found yourself a parking space, you park your vehicle and leave.

He walked with you to the restaurant, all the while talking to you about your dreadful assignment. You arrived at the restaurant, only for a waiter to approach you two.

“Uhh, hi. My friends are here actually. Table reserved under Chan I think?” Hyunjin said as the waiter went ahead and checked the booking list, only for him to nod when his eyes met the name that was mentioned.

“Ah, yes. Right this way.” He led you deeper into the restaurant as you followed behind Hyunjin.

You were too busy focusing on the crying child across the room, not realizing you were already at the table until Hyunjin’s arms wrapped around your waist to stop you from walking. You whipped your head around to lock eyes with him as he chuckled at you for being clumsy.

Just then, you turned towards the table and you saw a whole table filled with really handsome guys. You also noticed that the two dancers from campus whom you recognized pretty well by now.

“Oh, hey!” The one with freckles said as he waved to you and so did the other one. You smiled shyly to them as you rested your right hand on your left elbow.

You schemed through the different pairs of eyes, smiling to them as a way of saying hello.

Just when you thought you were done, you didn’t notice the one who got blocked by Hyunjin’s tall and lean body. It wasn’t until Hyunjin turned around to call for the waiter, that you finally locked eyes with the individual seated at the edge of the bench.

He was absolutely breath-taking.

He was wearing a grey shirt that hugged his upper body a little too perfectly.

His muscles were in full view. His broad chest puffing out against the soft material of his shirt. The sleeves of his shirt doing the bare minimum in giving his muscular arms air to breath. His shirt tucked into his black cargo pants that had a chain attached to the belt hooks.

He wore a silver chain necklace as his accessory and a few chain bracelets as well. His hair was styled to show his forehead despite it not being slick back. However, his eyes were cold at first but the minute he looked at you, you could’ve sworn his eyes went wide for a split second before it softened.

Your smile slowly disappeared as Hyunjin spoke up to get your attention, “Noona? You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

With that, he chuckled as he turned to his friends and continued talking, “Friends, this is my best friend since college, Y/N. Noona, these are my friends, Felix, Minho hyung, Seungmin, Jeongin, Jisung, Chan hyung and Changbin hyung.”

At the mention of that last name, a sudden rush of adrenaline flowed through your veins as you turned to look at the said individual. Letting his name roll off your tongue.

“Chang… bin?”

The table fell quiet as your eyes diverted from his to the plate in front of him. The boys didn’t miss the frown that soon appeared on your face.

“Do you know him?” Hyunjin asked, genuinely intrigued by your reaction.

Why is the name making your heart flutter?

Just then, you looked back into Changbin’s soft eyes only to ask, “Seo… Changbin?” You heard a few light gasps from the guys but they weren’t your main focus right now.

You watched as Changbin shifted in his seat, making him ask, “How did you know my name?”

His question made you confused.

Was he not your neighbour? Was he not the same Seo Changbin you used to grow up next to? Was he a different Seo Changbin?

This made you feel slightly embarrassed thinking you mistook him for someone else. So you apologized, “I… sorry, maybe I mistook you for someone else.” With that being said, he didn’t say anything else as Hyunjin brought you to the empty space beside Jisung and Seungmin. During lunch, Hyunjin explains what his plan was to everyone.

You listened to him as well, occasionally giving him scoffs or a click of your tongue if you felt that he might be a bit too sassy about the things he wanted to do.

After lunch was over, they wanted to walk around the mall for a bit so you followed.

You had all just entered the lift to go down to level 1 from level 6. There were a few strangers who came in as well. You were the last to enter after the boys while the other shoppers came rushing in behind you.

You had just turned around when a rowdy bunch of people pushed you in further. You were about to lose balance when you felt a firm hold on your waist. What you also felt was your upper back accidentally crashing into a firm chest. You were secretly hoping your guess was wrong but it wasn’t.

“It’s okay. I got you.” His raspy voice said quietly in your ear over the noisy lift, making you turn your head slightly.

That was your first mistake.

The minute you turned, his lips accidentally brushed against your cheek as it was now inches away from your own lips. You were caught off guard by the close proximity so you softly gasped and were going to pull away from him when you accidentally bumped into the person in front of you.

That was your second mistake.

Because the minute you slightly bumped into them, the person turned around to give you a disapproving look, making you apologize quietly as you felt the hands on your waist wrap itself around you and tugged you against him as a way to comfort you.

Changbin simply hid his smile against your hair on his left where his face was between your head and the lift walls so none of his friends saw this.

Your heart was pounding against your chest as you unconsciously rested your hands on top of his forearms. After the crowd left the lift at level 3, you could finally breathe as Changbin let go of you before his friends saw him hold you.

You went home that day feeling lost and confused.

Does that mean he knows you, that he was simply acting as if he doesn’t remember you? Why else would he act that way, unless he’s that type of guy who knows his way around girls?

As far as you remember, Hyunjin has never mentioned being friends with fuckboys and that he says that his friends were all very sweet and humble guys.

Either way, you decided not to think much of Changbin and just carry out Hyunjin’s favour and you’d call it done with being around his friends. But of course luck wasn’t on your side and that it always has it’s way of turning things around in your life. This time, it was with Hyunjin’s friends.

More specifically, Changbin.

The day finally came, you were going to be Hyunjin’s fake girlfriend for the night. You weren’t really nervous considering you don’t have any special feelings for him. You were more anxious that you will be seeing his friends tonight. And that means you’ll be seeing Changbin too.

Hyunjin came to pick you up this time, coming earlier to pick out the perfect outfit for you to wear so that his ex would feel jealous when he sees you with him.

Hyunjin ended up choosing a pink satin dress with quite a deep neckline that essentially shows your cleavage. You were against wearing it at first but Hyunjin insists on you wearing it.

“Dude, you do realise I might get guys staring at me the whole night if I wore this right?” You asked, your tone was serious as he knows how you feel about being a centre of attraction. It gives you major anxiety. With that being said, Hyunjin gave in and chose a different dress that was also satin but with a decent neck line and a thin strap to rest on your shoulders.

It hugs your figure perfectly, with the hem stopping right on your mid thighs.

Hyunjin gave you the privacy to change as he waited for you in your living room. After you were done, you came back out with your purse and heels from your shoe closet.

Hyunjin almost choked on his own spit as he scanned you from head to toe.

“Woah! You are looking hot as hell!” He praised you, earning a roll of your eyes. You slapped his chest with your purse, telling him to get up so you can both leave.

The drive to his ex’s house took about 40 minutes, filling the drive with singing your favourite songs with Hyunjin and just laughing about random things. His friends were going to meet you two there, hence the reason why you were now leaning against Hyunjin’s car door with him towering over you.

He trapped you by resting both hands on top of his car roof on either side of your body.

“So, let me make myself clear. You can hold my hand, hold my waist, kiss my cheek, wherever you want up here…” You said as you pointed from your shoulder to your face before continuing your speech, “But, not my lips.”

Hyunjin pouted as he got a gentle slap from you to his chest, making him chuckle.

“Okay, but what if she wants proof of us dating and she asks us to kiss?” He asked, making you think through your potential actions.

“Fine, only if she asks. If not, don’t even think about tricking me into kissing you.” You warned as he scoffed, telling you that you were ‘no fun’. You rolled your eyes at him but the smile on your lips betrayed you.

Right when you wanted to look away from him, instead you saw a group of guys walking up to you and Hyunjin. Only to realize it was his friends.

Your eyes just naturally travelled over to the one walking near the curb.

Changbin wore a black skinny cargo pants, a black button down formal shirt tucked in, leaving the first few buttons undone. It definitely was low enough to expose a slight amount of his chest. He accessorized with his favourite silver necklace and a chain bracelet with a watch. He had a pair of black combat boots on to go with his outfit.

His hair was styled nicely to partially show his forehead and his undercut. You would be lying if you said he didn’t look good. But you decided to keep the comment to yourself as Chan smirked at you and Hyunjin.

“Damn, you’re not even inside and you guys already started the act?” Hyunjin wriggled his eyebrows as he pushed himself off his car only to snake one arm around your waist and pulled you against his side gently.

“By the way, you look really pretty Y/N.” Chan smiled at you genuinely, making you feel shy. But nonetheless thanked him for his compliment.

The rest of them agreed to their friend’s comment as well, saying that you look good with this dress.

The 9 of you soon walked to the house as Hyunjin slid his hands into yours swiftly when you were reaching the door. However, Changbin couldn’t help but feel jealous when he saw this. Yes he knows it was all an act. Yes he knows that it was only for a day. But why did he wish that was him instead of Hyunjin?

You arrived at the house, only for Hyunjin’s ex to open the door. Her smile immediately dropped when she looked down at your locked fingers with Hyunjin.

“Hey, you guys made it… And, with a friend…” She said through her clenched teeth.

“Oh my goodness, where’s my manners? This is Y/N, my girlfriend. Baby, this is my... friend, Yuna.” Hyunjin said as he slid his arm around your waist, making you smile at the girl and proceeded to shake her hand.

She was clearly uncomfortable but she just pressed on a smile as she welcomed the 9 of you in.

The birthday party was definitely leaning more towards a party which includes alcohol and random hooking ups with strangers. But since some of them drove, they made sure not to drink, including yourself because you don’t drink alcohol.

It has been almost an hour since you reached here and there were already a whole bunch of drunk university students everywhere in this house.

You were just seated on the couch next to Hyunjin and Minho with some of the guys. The only ones who were tipsy amongst the 9 of you were Jisung, Jeongin, Felix and Seungmin. You were just leaning your head against Hyunjin’s shoulder, feeling tired from having been surrounded by drunk students when you felt the need to get a refill of your non alcoholic drink.

You rested your hand on Hyunjin’s lap to gain his attention, who was busy talking to the other four guys, as all four pairs of eyes soon turned to you. “I’m gonna get a refill. I’ll be back.” You said as you got up after receiving a nod from him.

A few minutes later, you were just walking back to where the guys were sitting when a warm hand on your waist made you jump.

You turned around to see a guy whom you didn’t recognize, smiling down at you drunkenly.

“Wanna dance, baby girl?” He slurred over his words, making you excuse yourself. But when you turned to walk, he gripped your wrist so tightly that it made you drop your cup to the floor. You winced as he began tugging you towards the stairs.

But then a firm grip around your waist made you stop walking as someone ripped his hand away from yours only to throw a solid punch to his jaw.

“Fucking touch her again and I’ll break your nose.” Hyunjin growled as the guy began to stumble away. This has caught the eyes of those around you, making your anxiety grow. You didn’t realize this but you began to shake, something you always did when your anxiety was kicking in.

You were about to panic when the soft voice behind you managed to calm you down.

“Hey? Hey, calm down. Breathe. It’s okay.” Changbin whispered in your ear. It confused you on how he seemed to know that this was due to your anxiety but your mind couldn’t properly function right now.

So when Changbin called Hyunjin and told him you were shaking, the minute he passed you over to Hyunjin who immediately hugged you, that’s when it hit you.

This Changbin knows about your anxiety.

You allowed yourself to calm down in Hyunjin’s arms as he caressed your back soothingly and it worked.

A few minutes later, you finally stopped shaking as he pulled away from you only to cup your face gently. “Are you okay?” He asked, genuinely concerned for you. All you could do was smile at him and thank him, in which he told you it was fine and that he should’ve been more alert when leaving you alone in this kind of atmosphere.

You were just walking back to where his three friends were sitting, when a familiar voice called Hyunjin’s name behind you. The pair turned around as Yuna came to a stop behind Hyunjin.

She awkwardly glanced at you before focusing back at him.

“Hey, I need to talk to you… in private?” Yuna said.

“Why? We can just speak here.” Hyunjin said.

“I want to talk about something important… it’s about… us.” She paused. Hyunjin sighed as he stared at her with nothing but lingering pain in his eyes.

“There’s nothing else to talk about Yuna. You cheated on me when I told you I loved you. Was I not enough for you?”

“I’m sorry Hyunjin… I… I wasn’t thinking. Please… can we talk in private?” She said desperately, making you glance up to him who had an obvious frown on his face. You knew he wanted to talk to her to clear things between them. But you could also see that he was already tired of her bullshit and that he wanted nothing but to move on from her.

So you opted to give them space by holding his forearm gently and told him, “I think there’s some things you guys need to settle. Go. I’ll wait with the guys.”

You flashed him and Yuna a smile as you let go of his hand, turning around to walk towards where Minho, Changbin and Chan were sitting. The three of them were already looking at your direction, seeing the situation unravel in front of their eyes.

Hyunjin was at a cross road as he wasn’t sure if he should follow his heart or mind.

After what felt like forever, he decided to follow his heart and that was to completely end ties with Yuna. With that being said, he turned back to her only to speak up.

“I’m sorry Yuna. But all of that was in the past. I’ve already moved on and you should too.” Hyunjin said as he then turned on his heels and left.

He re-joined you and the guys, where you were sitting on the arm rest beside Minho since the other end of the couch was already occupied by drunk couples. Hyunjin was just standing beside you when Yuna placed her hand on his shoulder and roughly turned him around.

“That’s it? It was just that one time. You can’t tell me you’ve moved on that fast.” She scoffed as he raised his eyebrows at her in disbelief.

“With what you did to me, it only makes sense for me to move on this fast. Besides, I’m already dating someone now. You’re too late.” Hyunjin taunts but it seems like Yuna had a different plan as she scoffed at you.

“As if. I’ve noticed you two acting quite distant when I’m not near you. Just tell me you guys are friends and leave. I don’t need fakers at my party.” Yuna said, her tone visibly angered.

Hyunjin smirks, knowing that she was just trying to bite his tail.

“What do I need to do then to prove to you that I’ve really moved on from you?”

“Kiss her. If you’re really dating her and you guys aren’t just friends, then kiss her.”

There it is.

That was probably the last thing you’d wanna hear tonight. Especially not in front of Changbin. With that being said, Hyunjin smirks as he accepted the challenge easily. Since you both agreed on this before you entered the house just now, you knew you couldn’t really say no to it.

“Oh, sure thing sweetheart.” Hyunjin said as he turned to you and immediately leaned down to kiss you on the lips, hands reaching up to cup your face.

You swiftly moved your lips against his to make it seem legit. You could feel Hyunjin’s lips curving into a smile against your lips as you heard Yuna scoff and soon stormed off. Hyunjin pulled back the minute she left, only to apologize to you.

“I’m really sorry noona…”

“It’s okay.” You smiled as Minho and Chan began to tease you two for executing the perfect kiss, saying that it looks too legit. They even mentioned saying you two looked like a nice couple.

In which you responded with a fake gag, earning a soft punch to your arm by Hyunjin himself. You giggled but you completely missed the way Changbin’s eyes were burning with jealousy from seeing you kiss Hyunjin.

He knows this was just an act but why was he so pressed by the simple kiss?

A few days later, you were in class when Hyunjin told you he was meeting his friends this weekend and asked if you wanted to join them. You weren’t sure if you wanted to but you decided to go along with it. He said they planned to watch a movie and maybe go to the pier. You nodded, agreeing to tag along since he offered you to come.

Weekend finally came and you had just left your apartment. You wore your denim skinny ripped jeans, a white cropped fitted tank top and a black oversized jacket.

Hyunjin told you he was going to pick you up so you met him at the roadside in front of your apartment building.

You both made it to the mall to queue for the movie tickets. Chan was queueing with Hyunjin so you were left with the others. You were just scrolling through your Instagram when someone fed you popcorn. You looked up to see Changbin holding two popped kernels in front of your lips. You unconsciously blushed as you opened your mouth to let him feed you.

Changbin chuckled after feeding you, only to pop some in his own mouth. You stood in between Changbin and Jeongin against the wall while Seungmin, Jisung, Felix and Minho were standing in front of you three.

They were just talking amongst themselves when you glanced over to the full bucket filled with caramel popcorn that Changbin was hugging.

He saw you looking so he took some out and held it up to your mouth.

“Ahh, it’s okay, I can take myself.” You said softly, gently pushing his hand away but instead, he said something that made your stomach churn in a good way.

“Don’t worry, I like feeding people.”

You stared at him for a second as he teasingly tapped the popcorns on your lips, making you giggle. Changbin fed you a few times, even after you’ve entered the cinema theatre. After the movie ended, all of you made your way to the pier.

Once there, you were walking past the game booths which had some very cute prizes. Just then, your eyes caught a glimpse of your favourite cartoon character as a prize for one of the booths.

It was Stitch.

You gasped as you eagerly reached out for whoever’s arm that was nearest to you, only to grab both Changbin’s and Seungmin’s forearms on either side of you before pointing to the booth with the Stitch soft toy.

“Guys look! It’s stitch! It’s so cute! Omg!” You giggled, hearing both of them chuckle as you jogged over to the booth. It was a game of shooting which you clearly weren’t good at. Just as you were pondering over the game, a familiar voice spoke up from behind you causing you to turn.

“One round please.” Changbin said as he handed the man his bill before the man gave him a loaded nerf gun.

“What are you doing?” You asked as Changbin simply smiled at you.

“Playing the game?”

“Of course I know that… but why?”

“For fun…” He smiled as he began to aim for the targets. He was getting the shots perfect so far. Barely missing any target. After a stressful close round, you watched as he won a prize. You didn’t know why but you thought he was going to choose something that was for himself.

But instead, the next thing you see was the man reaching up to grab the exact one that you’ve been eyeing all these while.

Changbin smiled as he thanked the man for the prize. But when he turned away from the man, you expected him to walk back to his friends. You didn’t expect him to give you the Stitch soft toy and then proceed to say innocently, “Take it.”

You raised your eyebrows at him softly, clearly taken aback by his offer.

“W-What?”

“It’s for you… You looked like you wanted it so bad.” Changbin chuckled as he gently took your hands and wrapped it around the toy to make you hug it.

“Changbin… thank you…” You whispered as he could only smile, guiding you back to where the guys were. The minute you came back to where some of them were, you excitedly showed off your prize.

“Jin ah! Look!” You exclaimed as Hyunjin gasped at the size of the soft toy.

“Woah! Where did you get this?”

“From that shooting booth! Isn’t he cute!”

“You won the shooting game?!” Hyunjin asked in shock, making you blush as you turned to Changbin. He had a soft smile on his face before he spoke up for you.

“I did. So I gave the prize to her.”

The guys began to tease as Changbin rolled his eyes thickly at them.

“Oh? Was that a gift to her?” Minho smirked.

“Never thought I’d see the day Seo Changbin goes out of his way to win a prize for a girl…” Jisung teased. Changbin simply brushed all their comments off as you all continued walking. You have been hugging the soft toy for the past hour wherever you went, earning soft laughs from the guys. Just then, Hyunjin wanted to take pictures at the pier.

Felix was helping to take Hyunjin’s pictures while Chan was helping to take Minho, Jisung, Seungmin and Jeongin’s picture.

You were just burying your face in the soft toy when Changbin’s voice softly spoke up from beside you, “Do you like it that much?” With that, you turned to him and a bright smile decorated your face, warming his heart even more.

“I’ve loved it since I was young! He’s so cute! Don’t you remember? I used to bring my small stuffed-” You were rambling excited until you stopped yourself when you realized what you were doing. “Oh! Sorry! Sorry… I got a little carried away there…” You apologized as you avoided his gaze but you missed the little smile growing on his face.

But what he said next made your heart stop for a split second, almost not believing your ears.

“I remember…” He whispered so softly, you could’ve missed it if you weren’t properly listening. You whipped your head around as you stared at him in shock.

“You… do?” Your voice was quiet as his eyes held the galaxy.

But your little moment gets cut when Felix calls you over to take a picture with Hyunjin who deliberately drags you away from Changbin. He could only smile as he nods at Hyunjin’s figure behind you, signalling you to just go follow him.

You frowned as you stood beside Hyunjin and proceeded to take a few memorable pictures with him. After everyone was almost done taking pictures, you didn’t want the memory to go to waste so you turned to Hyunjin and quietly asked when the rest of the guys were already walking away.

“Jinie, can you take one picture of me with Changbin?”

“Why?”

“Just for memories…” You smiled and you definitely saw the confused look on his face but nonetheless, he smiled and called the boy over. When Changbin was standing in front of you, Hyunjin told him what you wanted. Changbin looks at you and a smile creeps onto his face before he agrees to it.

You soon reached down to slide your hand in his and brought him to the edge of the pier. You stood beside him with the huge soft toy in your arms. Right when Hyunjin was just trying to find the right angle, you felt Changbin snake his arm around your waist and pulled you closer into his side.

Your heart was palpitating against your chest as he turned to you and whispered softly in your ear, “I’m sorry for being distant back then. I hope you can forgive me and we can start fresh? Properly this time?”

You turned to him, only to find his face just inches away from you. At this moment, neither of you dared to move an inch.

Just then, you heard Hyunjin’s voice counting down from 3.

You turned to Hyunjin and back to Changbin, wanting to ask what pose you two should do. But the moment you turned to Changbin, he gave you no warning whatsoever as he simply pressed his lips against yours sweetly. You closed your eyes in bliss, enjoying the feeling when you heard the click of the camera followed by Hyunjin screaming excitedly.

Changbin was the one to pull away as his lips lingered over your for a second. You struggled to look at him, feeling your cheeks burn from embarrassment. “Was that okay?” He whispered, making you nod.

“Hey! Since when are you two a thing?! And secretly behind my back too?! Pfft…” Hyunjin scoffed but his cheeky smirk didn’t go unnoticed.

“Yeah… about that, we still have a lot to clear between us…” Changbin said as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously but you helped him clear the air before Hyunjin got more confused with the situation.

“Let’s just say we have an unfinished history between us and we’re going to settle it once and for all, okay?” With that, Hyunjin nods as he wished you and Changbin good luck. The 3 of you rejoined the group, only for them to ask where you three were. Hyunjin simply said taking pictures, completely hiding the fact that he just witnessed his best friend kiss his close friend.

On the way to all your vehicles, Hyunjin asks if you wanted to ride home with Changbin instead and that he could send Jisung home. You turned to Changbin who overheard your conversation with Hyunjin.

You saw him smile as he shrugged his shoulders, so you turned to Hyunjin and felt your lips curving upwards into a soft expression, “I’d love that.”

With that, Changbin told Jisung the plan and the younger could only nod happily despite not knowing the true intentions of the car swap. After all of you had said your goodbyes, you followed Changbin to his car and he soon drove off after you told him your address.

The car ride was filled with jokes and laughter, purposely avoiding the main talks first until you got to your apartment.

You let him in, telling him to take a seat while you went to make him a drink. After you came back with his iced chocolate, you sat down with him on the couch. He took a few sips of it before he finally spoke up.

“Is it okay if we start over? I know I wasn’t the warmest when I was young… I barely socialize with you and your brother… I guess I was just too shy and a little antisocial back then.”

You smiled as you reached up to cup his face gently in your hand. “It’s okay Binie. I didn’t understand why back then but now I know.” You whispered, feeling him lean into your touch.

You didn’t know who leaned in first but the next thing you knew, you were kissing him.

On the lips.

Changbin wraps his arms around your waist as he pulls you onto his lap. Your heart was racing rapidly in your chest. He kisses you passionately, rubbing soft circles into your skin. Just then, your breath hitched in your throat when his lips left yours only to make his way down your neck.

“Changbin…” You whispered breathily, making him smirk against your skin.

You swiftly took off his shirt, pulling it over his head before doing the same for you. Changbin took a second to admire your body, seeing this much skin on you for the first time.

“Wow…” His voice soft, feeling yourself get shy all of a sudden. He chuckled as he kissed your lips to distract you.

He took his time with you, making sure he wasn’t hurting you in any way. He brought you to your room after a good amount of time on the couch. He had been so respectful of you that he would always ask for your permission to touch you anywhere. He left you wanting more.

He made sure to clean you after spending your time together before pulling you against him to cuddle. You couldn’t help but prop yourself on your elbow as you rested one hand on his bare chest, softly caressing it before sliding your hand up to cup his face.

“I’m so happy I found you again.” You whispered as he giggled. His eyes crinkled into two crescent moons that disappeared as soon as he smiled.

“I could say the same for you too.” Changbin said as he kissed you sweetly. Both of you fell into a deep slumber a few minutes later, waking up the next day feeling so warm and full in your hearts. You were happy that you met him again after all these years. Who knew you would end up with the boy whom you used to live next door to.

~~~

[maddieinwonder]

A Lesson In Romance #3: The Cast

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.5k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, the team figures it out.

A/N: I'm guilty of writing too much Morgan and Garcia but I can't help it — they're so much fun! I think them plus Emily would have the most dramatic reactions to Spencer in a (potential) relationship, though I'm excited to write about the rest too.

(Also, the reference at the end is from Lord of the Rings, because I love Lord of the Rings.)

Masterlist | All chapters here!

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If you've learned anything from rom-coms, it's that every romantic lead needed a supporting cast. Whether they were siblings, parents, or childhood best friends, the main character needed somebody who would drop everything to talk to them — preferably showing up at their doorstep with face masks, nail polish, and a bottle of wine.

In your life right now, you suppose those people would be your teammates from the BAU.

Of course, this hypothetical scenario didn't require your potential love interest to be from work, but let's say for the purposes of the discussion that they were. Then you hoped, at least, that they would have an IQ of 150 or higher and a propensity for wearing mismatched socks.

But you were getting ahead of yourself. You were simply imagining the hypothetical scenario where your life was a rom-com. Hypothetically, you would need a love interest, and hypothetically, you kind of already had one.

“Hey,” Spencer waved you over from across the coffee shop. It wasn’t difficult to spot him when the place was nearly vacant. Everything was slow and quiet this early in the morning, and you weren’t going to make an exception.

“Morning,” you greeted softly as you sat down, relaxing into the smell of freshly roasted coffee and baked goods.

“I already ordered yours.” He smiled, tucking his book away in his messenger bag. “They had bagels this morning. Yours is cream cheese, but mine is strawberry jelly.” He looked overly pleased with himself, and you couldn’t help but crack a sleepy smile.

You eyed the spread in front of you, before lifting your gaze to meet his. “So your theory that you can predict my taste in desserts seems to be getting better.”

"Yes!" He shout-whispered, silently raising his fists in victory. “I knew I was right.”

You giggled at his overexcitement over something as small as getting your dessert order right. Although, he did once spend ten whole minutes explaining to you why dessert for breakfast was an underrated concept, so you couldn't say this was beyond your expectations for Dr. Spencer Reid.

You propped your head up with your arms, a smile plastered over your face. “Have I ever told you that you’re a weirdo, doctor?” You teased.

“Why, yes. Yes you have.” He replied with a smile, gesturing at you to try the bagel. His own was almost-gone, so they must be good.

And it was. Your eyes fluttered shut as the heavenly combination of carbs and cream woke up your taste buds. It was made even better with a sip of the perfect cup of coffee.

"Perfect," you sighed happily, digging into your breakfast further as Spencer quietly caught you up on the latest news in classical art.

Two weeks ago, you wouldn't have guessed that you would talk to Spencer alone, much less spend your mornings together with him. But as it turned out, a lot could change in a few days.

After the initial awkwardness between you had passed, you found that the two of you shared a lot more interests than interdimensional doctors and space opera. You both loved coffee, obviously, but you also had a mutual love for desserts, classical literature, and history.

It didn't take long for these interests to seep into the weekend, resulting in a suspiciously date-like afternoon with Spencer at his favourite museum. But you tried not to think too much into it. After all, the day had ended with a "see you at work", and not a "would you like to come in?"

Still, your dance between friendship and something more continued to grow wilder as days passed, until it reached a point where it inhabited your every waking thought. The only time it didn't, ironically, was when you were spending time with the person in question and every stray thought seemed to fall away.

Your mornings with him brought a necessary reprieve to the dark realities of this job, and some days you almost had to drag yourself out of your seat, knowing that you were straying from the calm of his company straight into the lion's mouth. But duty always called.

Your sudden hesitance to be apart from the resident genius hadn't gone unnoticed by the rest of your team either; ever since the two of you walked into office one morning with matching coffee cups and smiles on your faces.

At first you enjoyed Spencer's company too much to care, but you knew that it was going to bite you back one day. And today seemed to be that day.

You could tell, because the lift doors to the BAU opened to one very determined Penelope Garcia with her arms folded across her chest. "Spit it out, you two," she said sharply without any greeting.

You and Spencer looked at each other, confused, before looking back at Penelope. "Spit out what, Pen?" You asked, a frown starting to form between your eyes.

"You know what I mean!" She squeaked, dropping her stern facade for a brief moment. "Are the two of you dating? The entire team has been dying to know, and I mean, d-y-i-n-g because there's a huge pot of money with my name on it if you are."

"Ah— No— I mean, you think—" Spencer stammered, his face instantly turning beet red in embarrassment, while your face began to grow red for another reason entirely.

"I think what he means is 'no', and what I mean to say is— what do you mean the entire team?" You half-yelled the question, while Penelope raised her hands defensively.

"What I mean, sugar, is that the two of you went from avoiding each other completely, to coming into work together everyday — and I know you spent last weekend together too, because you couldn't stop talking about it the next day at work and everybody noticed." She stated, pushing up her glasses.

"Not to mention, Dr. Reid here started wearing brighter colours subconsciously." She continued with her observations. "I know this, because in the almost four years I've worked with this man, I've never seen him wear anything brighter than violet. Or white. Or beige. But those don't count." She shook her head, getting back to her point.

"You get what I mean— and you," she pointed her pen in your direction, causing you to jump slightly. "You finally stopped doubting yourself as a part of this team. I knew this when you started talking more often during briefings — which I have nothing against, B-T-W, I totally support any effort in self-care and personal growth — but you also stopped shifting in your seat which you used to do when you felt nervous."

Penelope took a deep breath, preparing for the climax. "So all I can assume, is either you've been attending one of the 52 self-help classes that happen every weekend in Virginia, or somebody has been helping you find some serious zen."

"And my money's on the latter because every time you think nobody's watching, you're making eyes at Reid. But you're wrong. Garcia is always watching." She concluded triumphantly, raising one finger to point at herself.

"You might make a good profiler yet, doll." Derek remarked, walking up to the group with a smirk firmly affixed to his face.

"Expert at all things romance, and Cupid of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, Penelope Garcia at your service." She smiled, graciously curtseying to your other teammate.

"I know you're smart like that, babygirl," he grinned, draping his arm around her shoulder, "but you also don't know pretty boy as well as I do, because they aren't in a relationship."

He turned to you questioningly. "Are you?"

"No." You replied, glancing hesitantly at Spencer for his response, but his face simply looked blank with shock.

"See? Now it's time to collect my payout." Derek grinned at the tech analyst, making the motion of raining dollar bills.

Penelope tailed behind him grumpily as he walked into the BAU office, surely to share the "good news" with everybody else.

You hesitated to follow, imagining what teasing and looks would follow regardless of the outcome. Then you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, Spencer gestured back at the empty lift with his head and you smiled, realising what he meant.

"That is the best hypothesis you've had all morning," you said. The two of you shared a laugh as you got back into the lift.

Even behind glass doors, you could hear a muffled "What?!" that you guessed came from Emily. "There's absolutely no way those two aren't together already. Have you seen them?"

There was a brief pause, then a loud groan.

"I know, that's what I told him!" Penelope's high-pitched voice was clear. "You know I'm going to be right about them eventually—"

The lift doors finally closed, blocking out the rest of their conversation. You looked up at Spencer, your gaze meeting his clear hazel eyes. He looked at his watch briefly before saying the next words.

"We've got time. Are you up for second breakfast?" He asked, referencing a movie from a conversation two weeks ago. He remembered. Of course he remembered.

You cleared your throat before replying the next line. "What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper?"

He laughed, and you felt a familiar peace return to you.

Whatever your teammates were yelling about, the two of you could deal with it later. Together.

-----------

Tag list:

@blue-space-porgs @nobutalsoyes @lady-loves-a-lot

[curlynerd]

You're Bacon Me Crazy Word Count: 2K Rating: T Summary: "I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!" Or, Dean comes out through complicated burger metaphors. Notes: humor, canon-adjacent, coming out, established Destiel, #pray4Sam

Also read on AO3!

"You're really having two burgers, Dean?" Sam asks in his most smug, most obnoxious "I’m eating kale for lunch" voice. Dean really hates that voice.

Dean straightens his back and spreads his hands out, like the two wrapped burgers, the extra large fries, and the soda with two straws are a majestic bounty. “I’m a growing boy, Sammy."

“Uh-huh,” Sam deadpans. He lifts the takeout lid of his salad and starts carefully drizzling the vinaigrette cup over his bed of leafy greens and grilled chicken. “And you’re definitely not going to bully Cas into splitting them with you? You know he doesn’t need to eat.”

Something tight and anxious curls in Dean’s chest. “No!” he blurts out, realizing a second too late that it’s normal for him to share his food with Cas. Just because he’s been doing it more now that he and Cas are finally together does not mean that it’s weird now.

In response to Dean’s defensiveness, Sam raises a self-righteous eyebrow in sync with his salad-laden fork. “Can he even really taste them? I thought he didn’t like food in angel mode.”

Dean swallows down a multitude of answers. He likes sharing the experience with Cas anyway. He thinks the way his face scrunches up at the molecules is cute. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside that an angel -- his angel -- is willing to put up with something so silly and mundane and human as taste-testing different burgers.

He really, really needs to tell Sam the truth about him and Cas. Hell, he’s been trying to for months! But every time the perfect opportunity presents itself, he turns into a fuckin’ coward.

And today definitely is another perfect moment. The conversation has naturally turned to Cas. They’re sitting at a picnic table at the park, with nobody around to overhear Dean spill his guts in the most agonizing and uncomfortable way possible. They’re working a case, so immediately after the conversation Dean can bury himself in research and hunting and not have to deal with Sam’s big, obnoxious “let’s make a huge deal out of this!” puppy dog eyes. And Cas isn’t even here right now to make things more awkward. He’s still checking out the victim at the coroner's office across the street.

Dean tries not to think about what a big baby he’s being by ignoring this golden opportunity. “He just tastes stuff different as an angel. He’s learning how to pick out the nuance.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Because there’s so much nuance to ‘extra cheese’ or ‘hold the tomato.’”

“Oh like you’d know, Mr. Tofu Burger.”

“You’d eat a burger off the floor. Are you really trying to convince me you care about what kind of burger it is?”

Dean huffs and levels an indignant glare at his brother. “I absolutely have a favorite burger.”

“Then why’d you get two different kinds?”

"I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!"

Sam snorts. "That's just an excuse to eat more burgers." He spears a forkful of tomato and spinach with a smug little twinkle in his eye.

"It's so not," Dean insists. He gestures at the two wrapped foil rounds in front of him. “These are two unique burgers that both have their own delicious qualities.”

“Really?” Sam’s expression is so pompous Dean kind of wants to throw a french fry at it. Except that would be a waste of a perfectly good fry.

“Yes ‘really.’ Look--” Dean carefully unwraps his first burger. “This is a pickle burger. And not just any ol’ pickle burger. The best, most amazing, and -- dare I say it? -- sexiest pickle burger in the entire continental US.” He smirks as Sam rolls his eyes. “Now I can tell by that condescending look in your eye, you’re wondering, ‘What the hell is so special about a pickle burger? It’s just pickles!’ But that’s where you’re wrong.” Dean lifts the top bun and points down to the burger, looking almost gleeful at all its toppings. “Fried pickles, pickled red onions, relish…Sour and sweet and crunchy, the perfect compliment to a juicy, meaty burger. And one this big? You’ve gotta have a little something special to handle all this meat.” Sam tilts his head, his mouth twitching like Dean said something embarrassing. Was it waxing poetic about vegetables? Probably. Dean chooses to ignore it.

“Ya know,” he continues, “for the longest time I didn’t think I’d like a pickle burger. For years I’d be at diners and think, ‘...maybe? I dunno. Probably not for me.’” Dean pulls his mouth down into a thoughtful frown and bobs his head to mimic his past thoughts. “And then...I’m not sure, I just figured, why not at least try it? All those burgers I’ve had all over the country; I could at least give it a whirl. And it. Was. Awesome!” Dean gently places the bun back on his burger and gives it a little affectionate pat. “Now I can’t get enough of ‘em.”

Sam's expression does a complicated dance that Dean can't even begin to follow. But it suddenly clears into a look of dawning realization, followed quickly by horrified guilt, before it clamps down entirely.

Weird.

"Well...I can't fault someone for enjoying a good pickle burger," Sam says slowly. He doesn't meet Dean's eye, keeping his gaze down as he delicately stabs at his salad with his fork. He frowns at the cucumber slice he spears and carefully dislodges it from the prongs. "Especially if they really like, uh, pickles?" Sam cringes a little down at his greens. Dean can't blame him. It's a sad looking salad.

"Exactly!" Dean gestures down at the burger. "I'm a meat man and a pickle guy." Sam looks up toward the sky and then down toward the ground below with a sort of pleading desperation. "This is a great burger for me. And don't even get me started on the sauce--"

"Okay!" Sam's voice pitches up several octaves. Dean frowns at him, but before he can ask, Sam takes a deep breath and plasters a warm, understanding smile across his face. "You know what? You're right, Dean. After all this time. All those, uh...burgers. I'm glad you've figured out which one you like best."

"Well, not quite. I mean, this one…" Dean carefully unwraps the second burger. "Is there anything sexier than a breakfast burger?" He practically beams down at the golden-brown bun, the fringes of fried egg drooping over the side, crisp bacon peeking out from under the patty.

"I...I don't know?" Sam has the same terrified expression as when Dean drags him onto ramshackle roller coasters at crappy county fairs. God, he's such a baby about cholesterol.

“Yeah. C’mon, you know they’re great!” Dean says cavalierly, because he’s not going to miss a chance to gloat about the awesome food Sam misses out on with all his salads. “Bacon is, you know, bacon! It’s the best tasting thing in the world! Salty, greasy, crunchy…”

Sam’s brow furrows so deeply it’s like it’s mining for coal, his unfocused eyes searching the empty space between them like he’s trying to figure out the deep, dark mystery of bacon.

Dean rolls his eyes. Of course he wouldn’t understand. The dude eats low sodium turkey bacon. "I know you haven't had good, real bacon in ages--" Sam looks offended. Then confused. Then offended again. "--but trust me, man. It's awesome. When ya got bacon in your burger, it automatically makes the burger a hundred times better. Can’t get enough of it!” Sam groans like he's in pain.

Dean grins and keeps going. “And you’ve gotta admit, a fried egg is a thing of beauty. Give me a good silky, drippy egg all over my burger and I’m a happy guy.” Sam’s nose scrunches up into abject horror. “You get that gorgeous, soft yolk oozing everywhere...It’s creamy and delicious and unctuous and--”

“Dean!” Sam shrieks. He lets his fork fall into his bowl and covers his face with both his hands. His voice is muffled, but it’s definitely a tormented whine. “I know this is a tough topic for you, but can you please just say you’re bi and never use words like ‘unctuous’ again? I’m begging you!”

Dean freezes. “Wh-What?” Did Sam really--? He--? How does he know?!

Sam pops up from his elbows, dragging both hands through his hair as he frees his face from hiding. “I get it, dude. Okay? I get it. I mean...I don’t get it.” He glances down at the two burgers with a perturbed look and holds up his hands in surrender. “But I get it.”

Dean stares at him. “Get what?” he demands. His heart is pounding fast. Bi. Sam knows he’s bi. When did he figure it out?! Why’s he bringing it up now?!

Sam fixes him with a flat look. “The burgers? The...God...bacon sex metaphor? The pickle guy thing? I get it. Please. Please stop talking about eggs like that. I’ll never eat an omelette again!”

Sex metaphors? Pickle guy?! Dean takes a moment to think and...yeah. Yup. He really did say “I’m a pickle guy,” out loud. Wow.

Maybe he should just...roll with it?

Because otherwise Sam is definitely going to mock him for that for the rest of his life, and honestly, coming out is the much better option.

“You got me,” Dean says with a small laugh. He spreads his arms out with a bit of a flourish, and it’s a relief to say it. It feels good. “What can I say? I like all kinds of burgers. And hotdogs. Tacos. Kielbasa...”

“Please stop,” Sam groans, rubbing at his eyes with his hand.

Oh yeah, this is definitely the better option. Dean fell ass-backwards into a conversation he’s been dreading for months, and the only person feeling awkward and miserable here is Sam!

Really it’s a win-win.

Dean grins from ear to ear as he relishes Sam’s mortification. “Hey now, I thought you were supportive! What happened to ‘I’m happy for you and your burgers?’”

“I am happy for you, I just wish this wasn’t happening over lunch…” Sam whines as he drops his hands on the table.

“What’s Sam happy about?” Cas asks, startling the both of them by approaching their picnic table. His eyes are earnest and sincerely curious, which only causes Sam to send a miserable, pleading look his way while shaking his head.

“Sam thinks pickles are gay,” Dean says to Cas with the same sort of smug glee of the teacher’s pet tattling about note passing in class.

Cas scrunches his face in confusion as he sits down beside Dean. “Sam, that’s...nonsensical.”

“That’s what I said!” Dean lies, because the way Sam’s eyebrow is twitching right now is too damn funny. “Wait til you hear what he thinks about bacon.”

Sam drops his face into his hands again. “This is the worst day of my life,” he groans as he massages his temples with his fingers.

Cas furrows his brow at him. “You’ve been to Hell.”

“And I’m still there, apparently!” Sam flings his hand up in exasperation. Cas quietly takes a sip of Dean’s drink, which for some reason just pisses Sam off more.

“You know, you could have just been normal about this. No weird, gross food metaphors. Just--” Sam drops his voice several octaves and bobs his head in a deliberately annoying parody of Dean. “--‘Hey Sam, by the way, I’m bi and totally in love with Cas, no big deal,’ or whatever.”

Dean goes still while Cas tilts his head at the two of them.. “Who says I’m in love with Cas?” Wait. Is that obvious too? Shit, well, looks like he gets to rip two bandaids off today. Thank God for the hilarious panic on Sam's face, because otherwise Dean would be the one freaking out here.

Sam’s eyes go huge, all color draining out of his face. “Oh shit. I didn’t-- I’m sorry, I--”

Dean can only manage to maintain the ruse for a few seconds before he bursts out laughing. “Nah, I’m just messing with you. Where have you been, man? Cas and I have been together for ages. I thought you were the smart one!”

Sam looks like he wants to leap across the picnic table and strangle Dean.

With a glare so sour it could peel paint, Sam snatches Dean’s extra large order of french fries and storms off toward the car to sulk. About three paces away, he stops, turns around, and levels a stern finger at Dean alongside his scowl. “For the record. I’m proud of you. And I’m honored you chose to trust me with this information,” he hisses in a frustrated huff before he spins on his heel and marches away.

Dean wipes a tear from his eye, still chuckling under his breath. Cas stares after Sam in concern.

“Why is he so mad?”

Dean shrugs off the question as he slides the pickle burger in front of Cas and nudges him with his elbow to try it. “Hell if I know. If you ask me, dude needs to have a burger every once in awhile.”

[drowningbydegrees]

Something Ordinary - Part 1

This is my Novigrad Exchange gift for @aalizazareth who asked for fluff, road trip, or hurt/comfort, and I figured how about all of them? I hope this delivers! 

A huge thank you to @goodheavensgwen​ for betaing, but also for all the brainstorming and cheerleading along the way. This fic is so much better for having your input. <3

It’s in the same verse as Noonwraiths and Other Woodland Forest Creatures, but it’s not necessary to read that to understand this one. Not, this is largely fluffy and ridiculous, but there’s some canon typical mention of blood and injury.

Read on AO3

Ordinary people don’t… date witchers. Granted, Geralt has been coming to the diner where Jaskier works for the last year and a half, just about. Twenty-one months, but who’s counting? It isn’t a precisely educational experience, but between the pancakes and mediocre coffee he’s come to realize that Jaskier is anything but ordinary.

Geralt had never meant to do anything with that information. If he sometimes goes out of his way to stop in between contracts, it’s no one’s business but his own. It’s just nice to have one place he can go where someone is genuinely happy to see him. And alright, Jaskier is more alluring than he has any right to be. And perhaps Geralt spends his visits wordlessly nursing a cup of coffee just to have an excuse to listen to Jaskier chatter on about nothing in particular a while longer.

Well, he did, anyway. Things are different in the months since they exchanged numbers after Geralt stumbled in half dead after a contract. Jaskier’s conversation demands more participation, his smiles are more intentional. And though Geralt would like to think he put up at least a token resistance over these last few months (in which he has received what he’s sure are more text messages than his entire life before), somehow Jaskier has pulled Geralt right along with him.

The point is, Geralt doesn’t do this. He doesn’t let himself get attached to people. He doesn’t give himself a reason to maybe stay in one place a little more. He definitely doesn’t go for coffee shop dates. The fact that their current circumstances started with an attempt to do exactly that is completely coincidental.

Wednesday

2:15 p.m.

Like many things in Geralt’s life, things go sideways before they even start. They don’t even make it inside the coffee shop before his phone rings, and given the only person who calls him for frivolous reasons is right next to him, it’s probably important. All of which is why Geralt had to cancel and is pulling into the gas station before a six hour trip to Oreton.

He’s still not sure how Jaskier got here, though. It’s a bewildering leap from a coffee date to committing to hours in an enclosed space together, but by the time Geralt wraps his head around that Jaskier is already in the passenger seat.

“I’ll get snacks,” Jaskier offers, already opening the car door. “Do you want anything?”

Geralt motions to a box in the back seat. “I’m good.”

“Are those granola bars?” Jaskier makes a comically disapproving noise, sliding out of his seat. He leans over enough to poke his head back in. “Do you know who thinks granola bars count as road trip snacks? My grandma.”

“What’s wrong with…” Geralt starts, but Jaskier is already gone.

To Jaskier’s credit, he’s emerging from the gas station once more by the time the gas tank is full. Well, Jaskier along with a bag of what looks like more candy than someone could eat in a week and the two cups he’s juggling.

“I promised you coffee! I can’t guarantee it’s good coffee, mind you, but it is coffee,” Jaskier explains before Geralt can ask, circling the car to press a cup into the witcher’s hands.

He doesn’t do this, and supposes he could be mistaken, but Geralt is pretty certain the coffee isn’t actually the operant word in ‘coffee date.’ Still, it’s… it’s something he doesn’t quite know what to do with. Jaskier has always been friendly, but he’s taken up doing all sorts of things as of late that can’t be chalked up to it being his job, and they never seem to leave Geralt any less unmoored than he feels right now, staring at the paper cup aggressively warming the palms of his hands.

“It’s for drinking,” Jaskier prompts, and as silly as it is, the whole thing only gets more absurd. Because the glare Geralt responds with is normally enough to make people shy away, but Jaskier doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be alarmed. He laughs, soft and lilting in a way Geralt never wants to let go of, like there’s nothing strange about any of this. Like the two of them are made for these ordinary things Geralt has never given himself the space to want.

But Jaskier has never been ordinary.

3:07 p.m.

He’s made a terrible miscalculation in this plan, Jaskier privately acknowledges about thirty miles from home. This plan. The one that was definitely an actual plan and not just an impulsive desire to go on an adventure and see Geralt in action. Does it count as a plan if he invents a purpose? Maybe he’ll write a song about it. The subject matter is a little niche, but that’s half the appeal.

The other half of the appeal is the man sitting in the driver’s seat, silently watching the nearly empty highway stretch out in front of them. He’s always pretty, but working third shift Jaskier has never really gotten to see Geralt like this, drenched in sunlight that softens his features and mutes the slight frown that seems to own permanent real estate on his face. It’s haunting, the way it lights up Geralt’s silvery white hair, like some particularly attractive ghost.

Therein lies the miscalculation, because the thing is, Geralt is no different than any other time Jaskier has been around him, which is about as talkative as the pet rock he had when he was six. Normally, that’s fine. Geralt tolerates Jaskier’s chatter at the diner. And since it’s Jaskier’s job, he usually only wanders to Geralt’s table for minutes at a time. But there are no places to wander off to in the passenger seat of Geralt’s car, and he’s barely gotten three words out of the witcher since the gas station.

“So, what are we hunting?” he tries, because it’s the one topic he’s seen loosen Geralt’s tongue. A lot, actually. He doesn’t remember even half of what Geralt tells him, but it’s terribly endearing all the same. Even if it leaves him longing to know more about what else Geralt cares about.

“I am hunting a leshen. You are staying in the car,” Geralt replies without so much as a glance his way. If he notices Jaskier’s exasperated sigh, he gives no indication.

“I… remember you mentioning those, I think,” Jaskier focuses on the leshen because it was very definitely on the list of things Geralt told him about the first night he successfully got the witcher to have anything resembling a conversation. He resolutely ignores all the words Geralt just said around that. If he doesn’t lie and say he’ll stay put, then he won’t be lying when he inevitably does not do that. Sheepishly, he ducks his head. “In my defense, there was kind of a lot going on that night. Maybe tell me again?”

That earns Jaskier a smile, however small and brief it is. It’s a win as far as Jaskier is concerned. Now if he could just wrangle a conversation.

“Tall. Sort of humanoid. Covered in branches.” Geralt says nothing else until Jaskier clears his throat, trying to prompt the witcher to give him something at least. “They have antlers.”

“Very informative,” Jaskier chides, shaking his head. He supposes he should have known better than to assume this would work. “Anything else?”

“They live in the forest.” Jaskier is so surprised to actually get an answer, he almost misses the way the corner of Geralt’s mouth twitches upward. “You know, like noonwraiths.”

Jaskier gasps, holding a hand up to his chest as if in shock. “Was that… I’m sorry. Was that a joke I just heard?”

It’s been a ridiculous joke between them for a while now, but it hits differently this time. It’s always silly, but for the first time it sinks in that it’s theirs. They have A Thing, and it leaves Jaskier all but vibrating to realize because that’s… well, that’s significant. It feels significant at any rate.

“You were serious about the woods though, right?” Jaskier asks once he remembers they were in the middle of a conversation.

“I was serious about the woods.”

Jaskier cocks his head to the side, trying to make sense of that. “Then, how is it an emergency?”

“This one was in someone’s yard,” Geralt clarifies. As much as Jaskier would like to be annoyed by the brevity, he has to admit that that actually more or less clears it up.

Jaskier tries to imagine this tree branch antler person… thing creeping over the fence of some poor, unsuspecting homeowner like a nosy neighbor. It’s a mistake, because Jaskier doesn’t know the shape in which those descriptors fit together, so it’s much more comical than frightening. He tries and fails to stifle an amused huff of laughter, but of course that would be the thing that finally gets Geralt to look at him for a second.

“Sorry, I…” Jaskier pauses, not sure he can actually explain why that’s funny since Geralt has the benefit of knowing how all his sparse descriptors fit together. “So, what are you going to do? Bribe it to go home?”

“Not this time. They’re intelligent, but you can’t reason with them. Most creatures kill because they feel threatened or to survive. Leshens are hostile. Always.” The explanation makes sense. It doesn’t sound like there’s any way around killing the creature, but Jaskier knows he isn’t imagining the sadness clouding Geralt’s features.

He has no idea how someone could possibly meet Geralt, who never takes a life if he can save it, who spends his existence keeping people safe, who has so much compassion for even the most unlovable of things, and think witchers are anything but good. Underneath the caustic disposition he shields himself with, Geralt is kinder than most humans. It makes Jaskier yearn to coax the world into seeing what he does.

Maybe he can. There’s the beginning of an idea, but before Jaskier can follow that thread, he’s distracted by Geralt. More specifically, he’s distracted by Geralt being distracted, something finally luring the witcher’s eyes briefly from the road. So, of course Jaskier turns his head to see what could possibly be so interesting.

“Horses?” Jaskier winces when he realizes he’s asked the question out loud. It’s not really even a question. They were definitely horses, one chestnut and one gray, happily grazing along the fence containing them.

“Witchers used to travel that way,” Geralt murmurs, before Jaskier even asks a question. It’s a good tactic, giving one piece of information to steer away from Jaskier’s pursuit of another. Or it would be if Jaskier wasn’t onto him.

“Yeah. Witchers and everyone else. It’d be pretty inconvenient now though, what with all the… highways and stuff. So, I’m not sure I’m following the significance.” Jaskier watches carefully, but Geralt’s expression betrays nothing. “Unless this is the part where you’re gonna tell me you’re three hundred years old or something.”

Geralt is conspicuously silent. Jaskier has never met someone who can express so much with the various ways he chooses to express nothing. It’s an exasperating quality, but impressive.

“Wait. You’re not actually, are you? I mean, not that that’s a problem, per se. Just that—” Jaskier pauses in the midst of his babbling when he catches Geralt turning his head away just the tiniest bit. It’s not fast enough to hide that Geralt seems to be biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

3:34 p.m.

There’s a lot of farmland out this way, miles of cornfields, sure, but animals too. Jaskier briefly entertains the notion that maybe Geralt grew up on a farm and is homesick or something. He’s a storyteller by nature, after all, and Geralt is such an enigma, surely he can’t be blamed for trying to fill in the gaps. Jaskier curiously watches Geralt when they lapse back into silence. They’re surrounded on both sides by… actually, Jaskier has no idea what those fields are. The only crop he actually recognizes is corn. But whatever it is, if Geralt has any attachment to it, his expression betrays nothing.

Jaskier is about to write his previous observation off as him reading too much into something ultimately unimportant when crops give way to a green, open meadow. It’s the kind of place Jaskier thinks looks about perfect for a picnic or laying out to watch the clouds drift by, or something. It’s also the kind of place where someone keeps a rather striking-looking horse, its coat a shade of gold just a touch warmer than Geralt’s eyes. “I’ve never seen one like that.”

“It’s a palomino,” Geralt replies, though Jaskier doesn’t think he’s actually looked that way. Either Geralt is even more subtle than Jaskier gives him credit for, or something about that merits remembering.

“The breed?” Jaskier presses. This is even more fascinating than coaxing Geralt into talking about monsters. It’s not a subject Jaskier knows a damned thing about either, but it’s an unexpected thing Geralt seems to be interested in, and that all by itself makes it worth pursuing.

“It’s not a breed.” Maybe ‘talking about’ is a little too charitable a description for the handful of words Jaskier gets Geralt to part with at any one time. That’s a puzzle too. Jaskier hasn’t quite sussed out whether Geralt actually doesn’t like talking or if it’s a side effect of the way humans tend to respond to witchers. It’s a shame either way. Jaskier quite likes listening to him.

“Okay…?” Jaskier prods. It’s only afterwards that it occurs to him that if Geralt truly isn’t interested in talking, maybe when the witcher is stuck a foot away from Jaskier and can’t extricate himself from the situation is not the right time to push the matter.

“It’s a color.” After a slight pause, Geralt adds, “Gold coat. White mane and tail.”

There’s more after, not that Jaskier can keep up with most of it. Often, even when Jaskier is actively trying to engage, all he gets from Geralt is a wordless hum or a raised eyebrow. So, the fact that there are a number of words in a row is noteworthy already. That Geralt is continuing to speak without being prompted is nothing short of a miracle. Maybe pushing wasn’t the problem so much as finding the right subject matter.

And thus, a new game is born. Whether out of some sense of dignity or something else, Geralt doesn’t actually mention when they pass by horses. It’s the very slight shift in Geralt’s body language, something Jaskier would probably say was him perking up if it were more explicit, that clues Jaskier in if he doesn’t see them himself. But the minute Jaskier mentions them, Geralt appears all too happy to talk about the precise measurement that differentiates horses and ponies (14.2 hands or less, which then becomes an extended conversation about why horses are measured in hands), the Lippizaner stallion troupe (which Jaskier will admit he would really like to see if they’re even half as impressive as Geralt suggests), and that one breed of wild horses that are maybe possibly completely divergent from domestic horses (Jaskier immediately forgets how to pronounce their name, but he does remember they sort of look like especially stocky donkeys).

“How do you know all this, anyway? I’m starting to think you should have gone to work in a stable or something instead of being a witcher,” Jaskier teases after a particularly emphatic explanation about what an utter failure Redania’s wild horse adoption program is. “I mean, it would definitely be my loss, but…”

He trails off, teasing smile immediately fading as he happens to look over at Geralt. Even when he’s happy, Geralt’s expressions tend to be a bit muted, but there’s no trace of anything like happiness now. His head is subtly bowed, like he’s ashamed of something, and that just won’t do at all. There’s nothing shameful about the details that make up a person. Before Jaskier can ask what exactly dampened the mood, Geralt softly replies, “I was going to.”

“You were?” It might be a mistake. This was meant to be fun. It’s just that Geralt so rarely gives Jaskier anything about himself, and Jaskier so desperately wants to know him. He rationalizes that if he drops the matter, Geralt will think he doesn’t care and won’t ever try again. “What happened?”

“Not important.” The words are clipped, but Jaskier has at least known Geralt long enough to differentiate between the witcher being actually irritated and any of the multitude of other emotions that make him sound irritated. This is definitely one of the latter.

“Of course it’s important if it makes you look like that.” Impulsively, Jaskier reaches out to lay a hand on Geralt’s shoulder. The way Geralt nearly jumps out of his skin is a stark reminder that he’s not quite so instinctively tactile as Jaskier is. Geralt doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t answer either, so Jaskier only lingers briefly before pulling his hand back into his lap.

“I thought everyone was exaggerating about how things would change when they made me into this,” Geralt explains, so quiet that Jaskier has to listen carefully over the engine. It’s an aching, vulnerable thing, as human a confession as Jaskier has ever heard before Geralt’s expression abruptly shutters.

“I’m so sorry… Wait, made you?” Jaskier realizes, not for the first time, that he knows nothing about witchers. Nothing true at any rate.

But whatever strange magic had coaxed Geralt into speaking has passed, and the witcher doesn’t even acknowledge Jaskier has said anything. He longs to know more, to soothe whatever it is that hurts so much, but Jaskier has at least enough sense to realize that if he presses now, Geralt will think twice about telling him anything later. The minutes stretch out between them like taffy, the silence deafening until Jaskier absolutely cannot take it. He impulsively reaches for the radio, turning the dial until the static of a station that’s long since out of range is coming through the speakers. “So… music!”

Geralt’s lips purse in… actually Jaskier isn’t all that familiar with this particular expression yet. His default state is so grumpy, it’s hard to tell this time if he’s annoyed or uncomfortable. Neither one is what he’s going for, so he pointedly does not ask what that station is, immediately setting about adjusting until a melody cuts clearly through the hissing noise. Fic Masterpost

[campingwiththecharmings]

Shut Up and Kiss Me

AN: another ficlet! this is a result of a couple of prompt lists i saw and was inspired by (there are like 4 other prompts i was inspired by also that are ~in progress~ so be on the look-out for those if you happen to enjoy this one 😉).

(Un-beta'd)

This is it, you think. This is the day you finally snap and murder him.

Rated:  T Words: 892 Pairing: Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Warnings: kissing, arguing, a little cursing...i think that's all. AO3

----

“Dameron, if you interrupt me one more time— Maker, help me.”

It’s the middle of the night. You’re exhausted and filthy and the last thing you want to do right now is argue with the posterboy of the Resistance yet again over how your kriffing ship should be maintained.

Unluckily for you, he doesn’t seem to care what you want.

“I’m just saying–”

“I don’t care! This is my ship. Go worry about your own!”

Your aggravated words echo through the mostly empty hangar as you turn away from him, signaling that you’re finished with the conversation. He doesn’t take the hint, however, and as soon as you reach for your tools, he’s running his mouth again. 

The sound of his voice makes the blood rush in your ears and you have to close your eyes in an effort to calm yourself. 

This is it, you think. This is the day you finally snap and murder him.

Clenching your jaw you exhale in frustration and swiftly turn to face him again. “Maker, will you just shut up?!”

He stops mid-sentence, mouth hanging slightly agape as he stares at you in shock and, for the briefest of moments, he is silent. But then the shock wears off and his irritatingly handsome face contorts in annoyance, a fire igniting in his eyes.

“Why don’t you come over here and make me!” he retorts, raising his eyebrows in challenge as his hands fall defiantly to his hips.

You tilt your head at his words, eyes narrowing slightly as you continue to glare at him.

‘Make me,’ he says. With pleasure. 

You don’t remember moving, but suddenly you’re right in front of him, invading his space the way he always seems to invade yours. It throws him off, you can tell by the look in his eyes as they study you.

You realize too late that getting so close to him was a huge mistake. This close, you can smell him, can feel the warmth of his body, can see how soft his gorgeous curls look, can see the many shades of brown in his annoyingly beautiful eyes—

Oh. Oh, shit.

Your eyes widen a little, flicking briefly to his lips before you can stop yourself and he notices. Something in his gaze shifts and you swallow thickly in anticipation.

“Do you wanna kiss me or kill me? I honestly can’t tell.” 

His voice is low, rough, and just a little bit teasing. You flush slightly in annoyance and cross your arms over your chest defensively.

“Right now? Definitely the second one.”

He bites his bottom lip in an effort to hold back a smile and you mentally curse yourself when it causes your heart to stutter a little.

“And before?” he asks innocently, moving somehow even closer to you.

“Before what?” you ask, holding his gaze and fighting the urge to step back and create space between you.

He allows himself to smile a little this time and the action momentarily draws your attention back to his mouth. When your gaze returns to his, there is a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I would be happy to kiss you, you know, if that’s what you need.”

Aggravation and embarrassment flare in your chest, drowning out any positive feelings you were having towards him. “You’re insufferable, do you know that?”

“So that’s a ‘no’ then?” he jokes, teasing smile widening.

You scoff and begin to turn back to your ship. “Goodnight, Commander.”

He huffs and gently grasps your arm to keep you from turning away. “Oh, come on, you’re throwing in the towel already? Normally we do this for another couple of rounds." 

"Yeah well, I’m tired, Dameron."

"I can see that. That’s why you should just do what I suggested and—"

He's still talking but the blood is rushing in your ears again and—you have to get him to stop, you have to or you're really gonna lose it.

Without a second thought, you fist your hands in his shirt, yank him toward you, and stop his mouth with yours.

You close your eyes and sigh against his lips in relief (and you tell yourself it's because of the silence, but deep down, you know better). 

His lips are warm and dry as they eagerly press against yours. He groans into your mouth when you plunge your fingers into his curls, walking him backwards to press him against the nearest hard surface. His tongue swipes against the seam of your lips and you moan softly, parting them enough for him to slip inside.

You feel his hands, which had fallen to your waist when you'd hauled him over to you, slide around to the small of your back, his fingers clutching at the fabric of your shirt. He pulls you against him, bringing your hips flush against his, and you break from his mouth with a gasp. His breath puffs against your cheek, his nose bumping yours as he presses his forehead to yours.

“So I guess you’re not planning to kill me then?”

You snort a laugh, allowing your hands to drop to his shoulders. “Maybe later. Right now I have an intake valve to replace.”

“You know,” he starts, smiling when you groan in exasperation, “You could cut the repair time in half if you—”

“Just shut up and kiss me, Dameron.”

Review (pretty please)?

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.

[yandere-daydreams]

Pleaseee do anything to do with Izuku and his huge amounts of strength. Like we know hes powerful asf I just want to hear about how this man will get a bit impatient and he uses 1% of his power and you get blown across the room- you finally realize that Izuku is holding back, and he could snap your neck if he really wanted to.

He’s too strong for his own good, isn’t he? And it’d only get worse when he’s a Pro, with the skill set proper hero and none of the self-restraint, especially when it comes to keeping his Darling in line. His methods aren’t exactly encouraging, but if he’s lucky, you’ll be too busy nursing a dozen broken bones to act out.

Title: Strength.

TW: Graphic Violence, Mentions of Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Touching, and Delusional Mindsets.

~

In his defense, Izuku had never claimed to be a gentle lover.

He wasn’t violent, either, not when you first got together, not when he was still a stuttering, blushing mess who could barely hold your hand without having to hide his face in your shoulder or make up an excuse to let go a little too early. For weeks, every touch was tentative, every kiss preluded by a flurry of nervous questions. By the time he finally calmed down and swallowed his nerves, you’d begun to wonder how he managed to fight villains without asking if they were ‘alright’ every fight minutes. He’d been afraid of hurting you, back then… or, you guess he’d never really been afraid. He’d been aware that he could, and that’d made him anxious, it’d made him hesitant. But, hesitance was a thing that wore off, with experience, and Izuku was good at adjusting. He was adaptive, and you were too relieved your boyfriend could finally put his arm around your waist to notice just how tight his grip could be, from time to time.

That was your mistake, you guess. You should’ve been more attentive.

You should’ve started paying attention when he started leaving bruises.

But, it was too late to regret that now. Izuku wasn’t your boyfriend, anymore, he was your captor, and you weren’t his playful, fragile partner, you were his stubborn, breakable captive, with too much will of your own and not nearly enough love for him. He hadn’t really accepted it, not yet, but that didn’t matter. It hadn’t since the moment he came home, exhausted and irritated and touchy, and since you’d been as reluctant to let him near you as you always were. Every window was locked, the front door serving as the host to half a dozen different deadbolts, but running was second-nature, by now, as was doing anything and everything you could to keep his fingertips from digging into your sides, to keep that monster away from you, even you knew it’d be useless, in the end. 

But, there were things you could to do draw out the process, and that was why you were currently in a half-empty cabinet, your knees pulled into your chest and your back pressed against something hard and uneven and jagged. Hiding wasn’t preferable, but you only had so many options, and it was so, so much better than the alternative.

Izuku was never happy with your small shows of rebellion, but today, he seemed more disgruntled than he usually was. Even from across the apartment, you could hear him, his incoherent mumbling filling what little empty space there might’ve been, making it hard to think, making it hard to breathe, making it impossible not to wince when a door slammed or one of his steps was heavier than it should’ve been. You could hear him looking for you, but his search was half-hearted, at best, and he seemed to be caught between the urge to find you quickly, and the temptation to huff and mutter and stomp until you came out on your own, your head bowed and an apology already playing on your tongue. You didn’t know if he liked to feel strong, but you knew he loved it when you felt weak. Weak enough to let him act like your faultless, innocent, valiant hero, anyway.

“Baby,” He called out, finally choosing to be a little more proactive with his attempts to threaten you into submission. “C’mon, (Y/n), you know I didn’t mean to scare you. I was frustrated, I didn’t want to grab you, but you were trying to get away from me, and it’s been such a long day, and…” He trailed off, a heavy sigh following a moment of silence. “You know I’d never hurt you, right? Not unless you forced my hand. I spend all day fighting people who want me dead, I wouldn’t have a reason to make you hate me, too.”

He wouldn’t have a reason to. He doesn’t want to. Not he won’t, not he couldn’t, just that if he did, you’d be the one to blame. He could go one for hours, like that, trying to convince you that this was for your own good, that if there was a better solution, he’d stop at nothing to find it, but you were still the one being kept prisoner in your own home while he was free to do as he pleased, in the outside world. And, if you tried to reason with him, if you tried to explain that you could keep yourself safe from more than just domestic trivialities and boredom, it’d be his hand around your throat, and your lungs would be the ones left to scream. You couldn’t say he wanted to, but he certainly didn’t need to. He’d just rather listen to you gasping for air than speaking your mind, apparently.

“I know you can hear me, angel.” His voice was colder, now, more collected but no less hostile than it had been. You could hear his footsteps getting closer, growing louder as he moved onto the tiled floor of the kitchen. Reflexively, you curled into yourself, doing your best to limit what little sound your breathing created, but if he knew where you were hiding, he didn’t feel the need to put you out of your misery quickly, only going on in that smooth, empathetic tone he was so fond of. “There’s really no reason to be this stubborn. I love you, and you love me, and if you’d just see things from my perspective, you’d know why having someone warm and welcoming to come home to is so important to me.”

There was a slight pause. You stopped breathing completely as he took a step towards your chosen sanctuary.

“Or, maybe you wouldn’t,” He admitted. “You haven’t tried very hard to understand me, not since we moved in together.” Since he kidnapped you. Since you woke up, handcuffed to someone else’s bed while Izuku tried to explain why this was necessary. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you don’t love me at all, anymore.”

Another step. Something came to rest on the counter above you with a quiet thud.

“Honestly, I’m starting to think you’re too much of a brat to know what’s good for you.”

With that, he brought his fist down on the countertop, and you hardly had time to think before you were flinching back, elbow colliding with the cabinet wall and making the smallest, hollowest noise. So minor and so quiet that, for a moment, you thought Izuku might've missed it.

But, he hadn’t.

Izuku was always so observant, when it came to you.

In the space between one second and another, the cabinet door was thrown open, something hot and crushing latching on to your ankle, dragging you out of your hiding place and out onto the freezing, unforgiving floor, putting out on display for your oh-so-dedicated assailant. Izuku’s expression was neutral, devoid of everything but a narrowed gaze and thin, pursed lips, but his vice-grip was more than enough to express his anger, so tight, so oppressive, it felt like your bones might cave in underneath it, collapse into little more than dust and fragments and helplessness. It was awful. It was painful. Already, tears were building up in the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision, making the man above you into little more than a muddled image of tan skin dark eyes and ugly, ugly delusions.

And then, he squeezed.

His free hand came up, his palm pressing against your mouth and stifling your scream, but that did little to soften to blow, to stop something in your ankle from cracking as pressure turned into force, and force turned into fire, racing from your heel to your knee as you tried to kick, tried to writhe, tried to do anything that might lessen the pain. It was pointless. Izuku’s grip was stead-fast, keeping you grounded and forcing you to reach out, instead, your fingers soon tangled in his hair as you pulled at his scalp and pushed at his chest, an effort that only made you feel childish, that only made you feel weak. Yelling wasn’t an option, not when it was all you could do to bite your sobs into whimpers and bury your face in his shirt as you began to cry in earnest, pain and fear turning into something dark and desperate, even if his touch had never done anything to comfort you.

Still, Izuku tried. He didn’t pull you up, didn’t move to help you, but he wrapped an arm around your midriff as you lost the will to struggle and rubbed soft, delicate circles into your side, a gesture you didn’t doubt there’d be bruises for, tomorrow. “I’m sorry, I got carried away,” He started, the words whispered against the crook of your neck. “It’s just…”

There was a light, almost inaudible chuckle. 

You wondered if you’d be able to claw his eyes out before he broke your hands.

“Accidents happen, right?”

[amazingmsme]

Hng I have so many thoughts about Trevor being in the ruines of his childhood home, have this sneak peak of my castlevania fic. I promise the whole thing isn’t this dark & sad. At this rate it should be finished fairly soon tho.

He sat hunched over at a table reading some book. Alucard was keeping an eye on him. He’d been acting strange, flinching and looking around as though he’d been touched. Little did he know, he had been. When Trevor hummed and looked over his shoulder expecting to see someone, he froze upon finding he was alone, and an unsettled look overtook his features as he hunched closer to the book he was reading.

“Is everything alright?” he walked up to him and asked. Trevor heaved a sigh.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he mumbled, eyes trained on the page in front of him.

“Maybe, but I might surprise you. Go on, try me,” he spoke gently. Trevor studied him, deciding if he should be honest or not.

“Do you ever… see things?” he asked tentatively. Alucard smirked.

“I see things all the time. Constantly in fact,” he teased. Trevor snorted and rolled his eyes. “It’s a little thing called sight.”

“Shut up, you know that’s not what I meant. If I wanted the word of a wisecracking smart ass, I’d talk to myself,” he sassed back. Alucard held his hands up in surrender.

“Relax, I was only joking. You do remember what that is, don’t you?” he teased.

“Of course I do. What the fuck is that supposed to even mean? Do I remember,” he mocked the last bit, mostly just to complain to himself. Alucard had come this far, he might as well be upfront about it.

“You just haven’t been yourself lately. Just wanted to check and make sure you still know how to crack a joke or smile.”

Maybe it was the fact he didn’t like his friends to worry, or he didn’t like how well they could read him. It could’ve been all the emotions swirling through his mind like a twister that made him snap. Or perhaps he couldn’t take the quick glimpse of another dead relative, or a distant call of his name. He shot up from his chair, making a loud scooting noise on the stone and almost tipping the it over.

“Of course I can! I just- I’ve been dealing with a lot of shit- more than you or Sypha could care to know-so excuse me if I don’t feel like my normal self,” he snarked defensively. Alucard looked slightly taken aback by the outburst, and Trever felt a little guilty. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Sorry for going off like that. Y-you didn’t deserve it, you were just trying to check up on me.” He turned to leave, looking back over his shoulder. “Just… don’t worry about me. I’ll be back to my old self as soon as we leave.”

“It’s alright. Trevor!” he called after him, but he was already walking out of the library. Once he was gone, Sypha walked up to him.

“What was that about?” she asked, propping her hands on her hips. Alucard shrugged, shaking his head.

“I don’t know, but he’s clearly upset. I’ll give him some time, then I’ll go talk to him,” he said, taking up reading the abandoned book.

“I don’t think this house is empty,” Sypha spoke.

“Hm?” he hummed, looking up curiously.

“I don’t know, I just can sense it. There’s a lot of energy here. It’s… sad and overwhelming at times. It’s definitely taken its toll on him,” she reasoned.

“He asked if I saw things,” he said, starting to piece things together.

Sypha nodded. “I’ve noticed him staring off into space a few times. He’s probably seeing people…” she trailed off as the full meaning of her words settled in her mind. He was probably seeing his dead family. She shivered. “No wonder he’s been so, so off,” she said, hugging herself slightly. “I’ve seen a few shadows out of the corner of my eye, but I’m used to that by now. It’s been worse for him.”

They were both silent, and Sypha went back to do her own browsing. Alucard spoke to the empty air around him.

“I… don’t know if anyone’s there, but could you cut Trevor a break? He sees you, alright? But it’s time to leave him the fuck alone. Okay?” He didn’t know if it would work, or if there was even anyone yo hear. But he felt obligated to at least try.

Trevor stormed out of the library and through the crumbling, vacant halls of his childhood home. The longer he walked, he slowly began to calm down. He trailed a hand over the worn brick of the wall as he walked. He sighed, throwing his head back to watch the ceiling. He didn’t even realize he’d been heading towards his old room until he stood in front of a familiar door. He let out a small huff of disbelief.

The door was cracked down the middle, the wood growing soft from decay. He pushed it open gently, staring into his childhood bedroom. It remained untouched since the night he’d left, save for the thick layer of dust that covered everything. He swore it was an inch thick. The ceiling had a hole in it, a pile of rubble underneath it. He stepped over it, tracing the pattern carved into his old dresser. His fingers came away covered in dust that he wiped on his shirt.

His feet carried him over to the bed and he sat down heavily. Particles flew up in a cloud that nearly made him choke. He waved a hand in the air to clear it as he coughed, freezing as he spotted his old stuffed cat in the corner of his room. He leaned down in awe, picking it up and held it out in front of him.

“Hello again. Never thought I’d see you after everything. I would’ve taken you with me had I had the time,” he spoke to the stuffed animal, petting its head with a soft smile. It was his favorite toy as a child. He’d often carry it around the house, even sitting it in his lap for meal times.

He’d been so young when he left, he could’ve used the company. Even if it was just a lifeless toy. But for a child who’d just lost everything, the absence of his biggest comfort had taken a huge toll on him. He’d grown a lot since then, but in a way, he was still that same little boy. He hugged the cat to his chest, laying down on his bed.

Charlie. The cat’s name was Charlie, he remembered and a choked sob escaped him.

He was relieved. He was sad. Scared. Nostalgic. Angry. Oddly happy. He felt everything and nothing all at once. He was just numb. Right now, numbness was welcomed.

[breanime]

Theoretically if rio's cute neighbour, the one that watched his son, was being harassed by an ex or just some creepy guy. What would rio do?

So you can find the first neighbor headcannon list here. Also, this headcannon list got long as hell... haha, sorry?

*gif not mine*

Rio had been out of town for the last week, handling business

He’d texted you to let you know he’d be back soon--

--partly to be a good neighbor, and partly cause he wanted to see you

The two of you weren’t dating, but there was definitely something between you

(sexual tension)

And Rio was eager to see where it would go

He walked down the hall to his apartment, his bag slung over his shoulder, glad to be back in his own space

Then he saw your door

The wood was cracked, as if someone had punched it or something, and Rio stopped dead in his tracks

He knocked on your door, eyebrows knitted

You answered with a bat in your hands

“Huh...” Rio said, eyes roaming your body--from your tense posture to the bat in your hands to the tired, exhausted look in your eyes. “... Rough week without me, mama?”

“Oh, Rio,” you sighed, and Rio watched your body relax, “Sorry. I was just--”

“Expecting someone else?” He asked, walking into your apartment. 

He dropped his bag at the foot of the couch and turned to you, frowning

Rio watched as you locked both locks on the door behind him; he’d been in your place about 100 times now, and he’d never seen you do that before

“Yeah, kind of...” You answered. “How was your trip?”

“Fine,” he answered, sticking his hands in his pockets, “but I don’t wanna talk about that right now. Let’s talk about you.” He titled his head. “What’s going on here?”

You sighed again, and Rio wanted to hold you. You were stressed, and he longed to fix it

“I’ve just...” You crossed your arms, hugging yourself. “I don’t want to bother you with it.”

Rio took a few steps forward, until he was in front of you. He eyed you seriously. Someone so beautiful, he thought, shouldn’t look so sad. Not when he was around to help. 

“Bother me,” he said softly, his voice firm but low

“Last year...” You began, looking down. “...I dated this guy, and he was just...” You shook your head. “He was an ass. We broke up, and I never heard from him again... till a week ago... The night before you left.”

Rio’s eyes narrowed; he remembered that night. He’d taken you out for drinks before his trip, spending the night smiling and laughing with you. He’d gotten a call in the middle of it, and when he came back to the table, he saw a man walking away. But you hadn’t said anything about it, and you seemed fine, so he didn’t ask about it.

“The guy from the restaurant...” Rio said, nodding to himself. “That’s your ex.”

“He saw us out, and when you stepped away, he came up to me--but all he did was say hi. He wasn’t weird or aggressive or anything,” you said back, “But then he... I guess he found out where I lived...”

“Yeah,” Rio licked his lips, “that his handy work on the door?”

“Yeah,” you nodded back, “Every day since that night, he’s been calling me nonstop and showing up here, pounding on the door. I called the cops, but they said there’s nothing they can do unless he actually hurts me, so--”

“I got you,” Rio said, grabbing his bag 

He turned to go, but you held onto his arm.

“What are you gonna do?” You asked, eyes wide.

He looked down at you

On one hand, he could lie to you, keep up the polite charade that he made his money the legal way, that his business was simply in “providing capital” like he’d told you once before. The two of you hadn’t ever explicitly discussed what he did, but Rio knew you knew his vague descriptions of his business were just that: pointedly vague

But on the other hand... he could tell you the truth. Maybe you’d be cool with it.

Or maybe you’d shy away and turn from him. 

Either way, he was going to handle this for you, but he couldn’t deny--

--he wanted you to be ok with it. With him. For some reason, as Rio looked down at you, he saw something special, something that made him feel protective of you, something beyond the lust and friendly affection he had for you

When he looked at you, he saw a partner

 “I’ma tell him that the next time he so much glances up at this apartment,” Rio answered evenly, “I’m gonna put a bullet between his eyes. And if he doesn’t like that, I’ll put him down then and there.”

“You... You’d do that for me?” You asked, pretty eyes wide

“I’d of had this handled already if you would’ve told me before,” he confessed, reaching out to cup your face in his hand, “but since I’m here now, I’ll handle it personally.” He leaned down, his mouth just inches from yours. Rio wanted to kiss you so badly, he felt the desire in every part of him with you so close. “Stay here,” he told you, “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He didn’t move, though, and neither did you.

Your hand flexed on his bicep, wanting to bring him even closer. “Rio, I...thank you.”

He smirked. “Don’t thank me yet.” He leaned in closer, about to say something else

And then you kissed him

Rio had kissed a lot of women in his life (a lot...like a lot a lot...)

But never had a pair of lips felt so good against his own. 

Rio’s arms wrapped around you, and he silently marveled at how perfectly you fit against him. He titled his head, slipping his tongue into your mouth, and you moaned into him. 

Chuckling, Rio’s hands went to your waist, and he led you towards the couch

You took a hold of his collar and dragged him down onto the couch with you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he laid on top of you

“Baby,” he chuckled into your lips, “I gotta go.”

“I know,” you said back, grinning, “I just need a few more minutes...”

He laughed. “For what?” He asked, even as he dipped his head down to start kissing your neck. The little sounds you made when his lips ghosted against your skin were driving him wild. 

...the ex might have to wait a bit.

Rio was kissing your collarbones while lifting up your shirt when a loud band sounded behind him

You jumped, but Rio just turned lazily, one eyebrow raised

“It’s him,” you whispered, and when Rio looked down at you, he could see the fear in your eyes

This, he decided, would be the last time you would ever look like that

“Relax,” he said, his voice low and calm. He leaned down and kissed you sweetly, and he felt you relax under his touch. “I got this. Just stay here,  mi bonita chica.”

Rio got up, kissing the top of your head as you sat up, and reached down into his bag.

“Y/N,” the banging was louder now, “I’m not playing with you--open this damn door right now!”

Rio grinned--it would be his pleasure

Rio opened the door and leaned on the doorway, a lazy smirk on his face. “Hey,” he greeted the man, “you know this is a private residence?”

The man blinked, taking a step back, and Rio chuckled. He knew this type: big, loud, and bad--until someone badder came around. 

“Wh--what the hell are you doing here...?” The man asked, craning his neck to try to peek into the apartment. 

“Yo,” Rio stood up straight, shaking his head, “What you lookin’ for? Huh?” He stepped up, and your ex stepped back again. “Y/N?” He asked. “She ain’t your concern no more, homie. I am.”

“I--I don’t--”

“Oh,” Rio chuckled, “That’s right, I’m sorry. I haven’t introduced myself.” He whipped out his gun, pointing it directly at the guy’s paling face. “I’m Rio. I’m the man Y/N’s currently seeing, and she wanted me to let you know that this shit,” he waved the gun, the smile no longer on his face, and the man backed up into the wall, eyes wide with terror, “Is done with. You stop callin’, you stop comin’ around, and you definitely stop trying to intimidate her into talkin’ to you. Matter of fact,” Rio went on, “the next time you see her, you better get the fuck away, cause if I hear about you even breathing in the same space as her again,” he stepped up and pressed the golden gun into the guy’s forehead, “I can’t promise I’ll stay this controlled. Is that understood?”

The ex nodded, looking like a bobblehead with his huge eyes “I---”

“No no no,” Rio smiled, “don’t speak.” He glanced back at you, you were standing in front of the couch now, watching. “You got any cash on you?”

He nodded

“Great,” Rio said brightly, “let’s see it.”

The guy reached into his pocket and took out his wallet, handing it over to Rio

“Mm...” Rio eyed his ID, memorizing the name and address for later use. “This looks like just enough to cover the cost of repairing the door,” he said, taking out a wad of bills, “and a lil extra for emotional damage.”

Rio threw the wallet back at your ex, who caught it, eyes never leaving the gun in Rio’s hand

“Okay now...” Rio grinned. “Run.”

He didn’t have to say it twice, your ex scurried away so quickly, that he fell half-way down the hall and just crawled into the elevator. If Rio didn’t know any better, he’d say he smelt piss in the hall now...

Rio closed your door, tossing the gun--which was empty--onto his bag on the floor

He turned to you, laughing when you launched yourself into his arms

“Thank you,” you said, your head buried in his chest, “thank you, thank you, thank you--”

“I told you,” he said, smiling down at you, “I got you. And yo, I was thinkin’...” He held up the cash. “...why don’t you use this on some self-defense lessons, just for fun?”

“But what about the door?”

“Ah, baby,” he leaned down, kissing you, “that’s what we got a super for!”

*******************************************************************************************

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