#no shade to anyone either it honestly gave me a laugh today

[memethebum]

It’s so funny seeing ppl talk about the SE fandom being dead in the main tag whenever some new merch or other shit comes out but it’s even funnier this time BC WE GOT A WHOLE FANDOM EVENT GOING ON

[sleepysnk]

i fell in LOVE with the ideas you gave me about streamer!eren so here we go! thank you again and i hope you enjoy <3

Jaegerbomb is Streaming

Pairings: Streamer!Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Jaegerbomb is now streaming

Eren adjusted his mic as the stream began, it was a Friday night and he was doing his usual nightly stream. He talked about it on Twitter so he expected a lot of people to be tuning in tonight, as well as it was a Friday night and not many people had school the next day.

"What's up guys?" Eren said as he watched the views begin to go up and the viewers tuned in.

He watched people type in the chat sending the usual 'hi eren!' or the 'hey eren!' he was used to the these messages, a smile forming onto his face.

"Good to see you guys here again! I honestly have no idea what I'm gonna play tonight but we'll go with it," he said, looking at the different chats.

He began to read the different messages that were being sent, some people complimented him or asked how his day was to which he responded with 'thank you' or 'my night has been great'.

Eren was a popular streamer.

He gained popularity within a few months after he streamed with some pretty well known streamers, his raging and yelling is what got him noticed by people, as well as his appearance. People got a kick out of him all the time and he was definitely going places.

Eren was cute, he had emerald-like eyes, brown hair, a sly sexy smile, and he always looked amazing no matter what. It attracted female attention as well as some males, Eren didn't mind it though, he loved interacting with fans on a daily basis; he also had a pretty big fanbase with 400k followers on Twitter and 90k Instagram followers. They were all amazing people and Eren couldn't ask for better.

His rage was something people found to be hilarious, there were compilations of him yelling at Call of Duty or screaming when playing the popular horror games. There was also this one time Eren's mom walked in and yelled at him when he was being too loud, and people found it to be hilarious.

He called his fans the 'Jaegerists', his fanbase was very sweet and there was rarely any toxicity in it. Which in Eren's opinion, was very relieving.

When Eren got popular he was very nervous of the issues that came with it, sometimes people would recognize him on the street or people in his classes would bring up his streams. It was something Eren enjoyed, but he tended to keep his streaming life out of his personal life. It was also a request by Carla, his mother. She told Eren to be careful and always be wary of the internet.

He did exactly that and here he was now, sitting with 7k people watching him.

"What should I play tonight? I was thinking we could do Cold War or Minecraft, but being honest Cold War is a bit boring right now; so let me know guys!" Eren said, scrolling through his chat.

Within seconds people began replying saying either Cold War or Minecraft.

Suddenly, a few notifications started popping in from a few of his viewers.

jaegerbombfan10 donated 30 coins!

iloveeren_ donated 10 coins!

erenjaeger21 donated 5 coins!

Eren smiled as he got the donations, it was common for his viewers to donate to him and he was very thankful for it. He never begged his fans for donations or any of that and that's what people liked about Eren, he never asked for anything other than love and kindness.

"Thank you to those who donated! You're all amazing!" he said with a smile.

The usual kudos came into chat and people sent in hearts to the chat which made Eren feel 10x more happier, he enjoyed what his fans were doing for him and he was so thankful.

"Alright I think Minecraft won.. so today we're gonna do that," Eren added, narrowing his eyes a bit at the different chats which suggested the game.

Eren skimmed through his computer and began to load the game, it took a few moments but the main screen popped up and Eren put on his headset.

His eyes averted to the chat's people were sending in.

jaegerbombswife: eren u look so good

ereniloveyou_: minecraft is so cool eren

jaegerbombsbiggestfan: omg eren u look so cute right now ❤

jaegerist21: ooo minecraft? sounds fun eren!

"I feel like a mess right now but thank you guys, really. What music should I play tonight? Let me know in the chat," he said before turning back to the screen and entering his world.

It was pretty common for Eren to stream during the night, he doesn't really have the time during the day to stream since he has school and other important personal things to deal with.

He scrolled through the chats with different artists and songs, "You guys want Pop Smoke? I played him last time.. how about some The Kid Laroi? He has some good songs," he said, clicking through to find his spotify.

Eren clicked on a random song and went back to Minecraft, he started by running around and organizing his items because a few people in the chat were complaining about his inventory.

"Oh shush! Not everyone is perfect! My house is dope okay?" Eren said before chuckling a bit.

Suddenly, a few notifications came through which caught Eren's attention.

y/nloveseren donated 500 coins!

y/nloveseren donated 1000 coins!

y/nloveseren donated 800 coins!

That was surprising.. not many people donate three times in a row, and with that many coins either.

Eren watched as the user moved from the bottom of the donation list to the very top, whoever it was, they were donating a lot of coins to him.

"Yo! Y/nloveseren! Thank you for your donations!" he said, smiling to himself.

A few chats suddenly bubbled in.

jaegerist45: damn whoever that is they donated a lot.

jaegerbombsbiggestfan407: omg fr!

iloveueren77: eren i can donate later!

y/nloveseren: of course! ♡ you're one of my favorite streamers <3

Eren smiled at the message, "Nah thank YOU for donating! It's appreciated," he replied.

As Eren continued playing Minecraft throughout the night y/nloveseren continued to donate to him, they ended up donating about five or six times after and it was surprising for him. He hadn't ever seen this person in his streams before, he tends to remember usernames, but theirs didn't ring much of a bell. They must have been a silent viewer.

"You guys can ask some questions by the way! It's only midnight and I really wanna hear from you guys," he said, taking a sip of his water bottle.

Questions began to fill into the chat.

jaegerbombbbb21: eren will you ever play outlast?

erensimp34: how tall are you eren?

jaegerist0123: does ur mom know about u streaming?

erensbiggestfan31: are u single?

Eren skimmed through the different questions, some were the usual and some were odd. "Well to answer, I will play Outlast at some point. I am 6'1, my mom does know I stream, and yes I am single." he replied.

Many reactions came from the chat, people saying how sexy his height was or talking about how he was single.

y/nloveseren: ur single!? holy shit

Eren chuckled a bit, "Yeah I am single.. it's mainly 'cause I never really found anyone who was going to stick around you know?" he said.

y/nloveseren: can i place my minecraft bed next to yours then? ;)

Eren's eyes widened a bit from the message, his cheeks growing a light shade of pink; nobody has ever flirted with him on a stream before. Yeah people have called him sexy or said he was hot, but a flirt was never thrown.

"Y/nloveseren you definitely caught my attention with that.. but sure! I'll let you," he smirked.

The chat suddenly went wild with people sending in messages about what he said, others pointed out his blush or the way he was smirking right now.

jaegerist45: eren a simp? ooop

iloveyoueren_: what? :/ eren what about me 🙄?

erensimp34: SIMPPPP

erenishot386: did u guys see him blush? I GOT IT ON CAMERA

jaegerist219: omg he blushed? y/nloveseren keep talking!!

Eren smiled to himself, "Alright settle down guys! What they said was nice, okay? Nothing serious."

y/nloveseren: aw :( i was serious tho! you are quite the cutie <3 i deadass can't believe you noticed that message 😭!

y/nloveseren donated 400 coins!

"Thank you y/nloveseren! Seriously, you are kicking ass tonight," he said. "I'm definitely not the cutest but thank you, really!"

Within the next few hours, Eren and a few other viewers chatted about new games and a few embarrassing stories Eren told them. The one person who stood out to him though, was y/nloveseren. They donated a lot that night and Eren even chatted with them.

"Alright guys! I'll see you all soon! Goodnight," Eren said, waving at the camera.

jaegerist45: night eren!

iloveeren716: goodnight Eren! ♡

y/nloveseren: night Eren! sleep well <3

Eren stopped the stream and leaned back in his chair, who was y/nloveseren? And why couldn't he stop thinking about them?

-

The next few weeks of streaming were exciting for Eren, a few new games were released and he started playing them for his fans. He gained more popularity from the games as well and he was happy to see new people trickling in.

Though, Eren had another thing to look forward to when streaming.

(Y/N).

He actually ended up finding out her name, yes she was a girl.

During one of his streams he asked a few questions about her, of course she was happy to respond to Eren and he always looked forward to seeing her in his streams. She was his top donater and he was always excited to see her pop in, it was odd; Eren never felt this way before.

She was a fan, someone who looked up to him, yet Eren felt... excited to see her? He would get nervous if he didn't see her join a stream or he'd be disappointed if she left early, it was odd. He wasn't sure why he felt this way.

His fans pointed it out as well, they noticed Eren would smile a lot whenever he spoke to her or he would laugh at her jokes.

Eren never did that, not even with a fan.

He was sitting in his chair, the stream had just started and people began to fill in, he was going to play a bit of Call of Duty and then he would chill.

"What's up guys? How are we doing today?" Eren asked, looking at the screen.

erenfan21: hey Eren! i'm good

jaegerist45: yoo hey!

iloveeren1827: hi eren! how are you?

y/nloveseren: hi eren!! <3

Eren smiled seeing her pop into the chat, "I'm good guys, hi (Y/N). Good to see you," he replied.

As Eren played the game he couldn't help but look over to see if (Y/N) ever talked, he didn't want to miss a message from her. Sometimes he got so distracted he would end up dying or losing a round, a lot of people took notice.

"Bro Call of Duty makes me so mad," Eren said, his brows pinching together as he focused on the screen. "Maybe I should uh.." he trailed off as he looked at the chat.

Suddenly, his controller vibrated and it showed his character dying.

"Fuck!" Eren yelled, rolling his eyes. He then turned off the game and leaned back in his chair, he was clearly mad; his rage was something that entertained people and this was no different.

erensbiggestfan31: damn Eren you're mad again?

jaegerist187: shit guys he might rage

jaegerbomb1782: ah shit, u good eren?

y/nloveseren: eren? are you okay?

His eyes flickered towards the chat, "Yeah I'm good guys! That shit pissed me off, but I'll head back in." he said, pressing a few buttons to head into the game again.

y/nloveseren: yay!! 🥰 happy Eren is the best Eren!

y/nloveseren donated 700 coins!

He smiled to himself again. She always made him smile.. it was something she did to him, she had this effect no other fan could put on him.

"Say (Y/N).. you donate a lot and I always see you here.. yet, I don't think you've ever followed me before," he said, looking at the screen.

The chat began to blow up.

jaegerist45: OOOOO 👀

iloveeren167: oh shit? eren?

y/nloveseren: i'm just shy 😭 plus i doubt you respond to dms

He ran his fingers through his brunette locks, twirling one of the strands in his fingers. "I do actually respond to dms, but you're shy? That's cute lowkey.. I actually have an idea," he smirked.

y/nloveseren: and that is? 👀

erensimp34: A CHALLENGE? y/n omg

jaegerist45: oh shit.. IM INTERESTED

jaegerbombfan20: SHE GETTING BOLD 😩

"If I win this next round of COD you gotta give me your Instagram," he said, leaning back on his chair.

The chat began to blow up with messages of people hyping (Y/N) up, a grin formed onto Eren's face seeing what people were saying. He hoped that she wasn't uncomfortable with what he said, that's the last thing Eren would ever want.

y/nloveseren: bet, deal.

His eyes widened a bit, "Shit for real? Just know I'm not forcing you, but I'm curious about you."

y/nloveseren: nah! you're fine ;) let's see if you win though

Eren smirked when his eyes scanned over the message, "Alright.. say less," he said.

He entered the game and started playing the round, he made sure to keep extra focused so he wouldn't lose. That was the last thing he wanted, he was interested in what (Y/N) was like; she was definitely intriguing.

Eren pressed his thumbs and fingers into the controller, his grip tight enough that his knuckles were white; his fans even noticed and told him it wasn't that serious, but Eren didn't care. He wanted to win and losing is something Eren hated.

Suddenly the screen flashed the victory and Eren put his hands in the air. "Hell yeah! You guys see that? Jaegerbomb is the winner!" he yelled with a smile on his face.

His chat was going crazy.

jaegerist45: YO GOOD JOB EREN

erensimp13: omg nice job eren!

jaegerbombfan20: dude u did so good!!

Eren's smile widened looking at the chat, he always enjoyed his fans telling him he was doing great.

y/nloveseren: you actually won, damn. i didn't think you would have 😭, but since you did.. you want my instagram?

Eren leaned back in his chair, "Hell yeah! Hand it over," he replied.

y/nloveseren: it's y/n.l/n!

He grabbed his phone and went to Instagram, the chat was blowing up yet again when people saw her actually put her Instagram in. They hyped her up and even told Eren that he was a lucky guy for that.

Eren found her profile instantly, he scrolled through her photos and his eyes went wide; she was gorgeous. Eren was used to pretty girls talking or messaging with him, but she.. she was different and he felt it; he couldn't help but stare at the different photos of her in the mirror or the selfies she had with a pretty smile.

He looked at the chat and moved his headset to the side, "Yo.. guys.." he said, staring at the screen.

Instantly people began asking questions. "Guys.. she is fucking gorgeous, (Y/N) you're so cute holy shit," he said, smiling to himself.

jaegerist45: YOOO EREN IS A SIMP

iloveeren3827: awe 🥺

erensimp13: SHOW USSSS

jaegerbombfan20: is she pretty? y/n omg ur so lucky

erensbiggestfan928: simpppp

jaegerist2827: DID YOU GUYS SEE HIS SMILE?

His smile turned into a frown when he saw that (Y/N) wasn't talking in the chat anymore. Did he make her uncomfortable? He didn't force her into sending it, maybe she was uncomfortable and she just didn't want to say anything.

"Yo.. (Y/N) are you there? Shit did I make you uncomfortable? I'm sorry," Eren said, putting his phone on his desk.

He shook his leg watching the different people responding to what was going on, a few people apologized to her; they said that they didn't mean to make her feel weird or force her into telling Eren her Instagram.

His eyes flickered when he saw her name.

y/nloveseren: omg no! you didn't make me uncomfortable at all :) thank you for your comments tho! 💗 you made me smile

Eren felt relief wash over him, "Ugh thank god! I thought I made you feel grossed out! But it's my pleasure.. you are beautiful," he said.

People started to leave messages like 'awe <3' or 'omg guys Eren is so simping right now'. All in all, he found (Y/N) extremely attractive and he decided to follow her, he silently prayed that maybe just maybe.. they would talk outside of the stream.

Eren noticed how late it was, it was currently 2:31 A.M. and he usually went to sleep earlier on Sunday's because of his classes.

"Alright guys! I'm gonna end it here, it is really late where I live so I'm probably gonna head to sleep. Goodnight everyone! Thank you for tuning in!" he said while waving at the camera.

Everyone wished Eren a good night and he ended the stream. He rubbed his tired eyes and went to shut off the light in his room, all he wanted was to relax and get a good night's rest.

He placed his phone onto the nightstand and rolled over to the other side of his bed, his body relaxing into the sheets and comfort of his mattress.

A sudden ping woke him up.

It was odd, nobody usually texted Eren this late except for maybe Armin who reminded him to keep quiet while he studied but Armin was out that night with Annie.

Reaching for his phone, the screen lit up; he had a notification from Instagram. More specifically, a direct message.

He unlocked his phone and noticed he had a dm from (Y/N), she actually texted him; a smile grew onto his face as he opened it up.

(Y/N): hey! i doubt you're awake, but i wanted to message you and say hey <3!

He instantly began typing back.

Eren: hey! i was about to go to bed but i wanted to respond to your message, so you're y/nloveseren right?

Within seconds she viewed the message and began typing again.

(Y/N): haha, yeah that's me! i've been watching you stream for a really long time, but i was a silent fan. i got a job recently and i decided to donate since you have always put a smile on my face lol.

Eren: wow really? that's sick! it's so cool to meet you, i always look forward to seeing your name in my streams 😭. how old are you btw?

(Y/N): it's cool speaking with you too! i'm 19 btw!

Eren was surprised, she was around his age? Some of his fans were under 18 or around 20+, but he was surprised to see someone the same age as him around. Most of the girls around his age weren't interested in streamers or gaming in general.

Eren: say uh.. do you mind maybe, getting to know one another? only if you're cool with it of course

He chewed his bottom lip waiting for a reply back, he wasn't sure what she would say. He didn't want to come off as the creepy streamer who talks to fans and does weird shit with them.

(Y/N): really? sure! i'm down :)!!

He smiled seeing the message, maybe this girl was worth losing sleep over.

-

Eren spent the last few days talking to (Y/N), he would stay up past 3 A.M. texting with her about life and getting to know her deeper.

The two connected instantly that night, (Y/N) was an university student studying psychology and she had a job at a local cafe near her apartment outside campus. She was interested in gaming and she told Eren that she had been watching his streams for a few months, she found him to be entertaining and he was one of the few streamers that weren't weird.

They shared a lot of the same experiences on a lot of things. Eren told her about the many relationships he had and how the girls instantly thought he was weird or boring for wanting to stream instead of having a career. (Y/N) had just gotten out of a really bad relationship and she told him that her ex found it weird that she watched him.

As much as Eren really liked the vibes he got from (Y/N), he was scared to get close with her. Armin warned him many times about how some 'fans' aren't actually fans, they con people and gain their trust to expose them later. Eren didn't want to be used for money or any of that, that would be the end of him.

Still though, Eren wanted to talk to her more. He hadn't ever gotten like this with a fan before, but maybe.. this could be different?

Eren was laying in bed that night, he decided not to stream because he was tired and he just felt really lazy. He was doing the usual, texting (Y/N) and listening to music.

(Y/N): what are you up to?

Eren: i'm just laying down, listening to music. wbu?

(Y/N): i was wondering if you maybe wanted to.. facetime? of course we don't have to but i feel like it could be cool?

Eren looked up for a second, maybe a facetime would be good; it could help him get to know her more and maybe he could find out if she was looking to fuck around with him.

Eren: sure! here's my number

He sent her his number and sat up, he wanted to look decent for her anyway. He fixed his messy hair and tied it back into a bun, then he zipped up his sweater.

His heart began to race, why was he feeling this way? It was just a fan nothing he couldn't handle, he silently hoped that she wouldn't think he was weird or anything.

His phone suddenly began to ring, he rushed over to his bed and grabbed his phone. It was an unsaved number so he assumed it was (Y/N). He fixed his hair and clicked the green answer button.

"Hey!" Eren said, his smile showing as he saw (Y/N) behind the screen.

She giggled, "Oh my God hi! You're so much cuter behind the screen," she replied.

Eren chuckled, "Thank you.. you're very beautiful yourself."

Her cheeks grew hot, "You're sweet but.. what's up? How are you doing tonight?" she asked with a smile on her face.

Eren leaned back in his chair, "I'm doing good, what about you? Do you work tonight?" he asked.

"No I don't actually.. that's why I decided to call you since I had some free time. Are you streaming today?" she asked.

He shook his head, "Nah.. I uh.. I decided not to since I was tired and I honestly was too lazy to get on," he chuckled.

"Oh Jaegerbomb is lazy huh? That's odd, you usually have so much energy." she giggled.

Eren smiled at her words, "Yeah I'm pretty lazy sometimes.. but y/nloveseren just insisted we facetime," he said in a dramatic tone.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh shush! I was being sweet and plus I was bored, so be thankful I asked." she said, giggling a bit.

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Oh I see.. but I am thankful! You're a pretty sweet girl (Y/N), I love talking to you."

She felt bashful around him, Eren had this impact on her and she always had butterflies whenever his name popped up into her phone. He was sweet, attractive, exciting, and most of all he was an amazing listener; something (Y/N) never had.

"Thank you, Eren. You're a really sweet guy yourself," she replied, nodding her head to the side.

He propped his phone up on his bed, he adjusted himself so he was a bit comfortable. "Of course! You deserve it (Y/N)," he smiled.

The two talked for hours that night about so many things. They told each other different stories from their childhood, they talked about weird experiences they had, and they even got a bit personal with one another. Eren felt like that was a huge plus, he could never get this personal with anyone.

He loved the vibes he got from (Y/N), she was easy to talk to, funny, sweet, she matched his vibe and the two got along so well.

Eren had his mind made up.

She was worth losing sleep over.

-

A month or two had gone by since (Y/N) and Eren started talking. They were still very close and they talked pretty much all day everyday, that was something that rarely ever happened with a fan. Most of the time Eren wouldn't speak to fans long.

He considered her a friend, but he knew inside he wanted to be more than friends with her.

He was currently streaming at the moment, he was a bored; not much was going on and he was playing some Minecraft to pass the time. (Y/N) told him earlier in the day that she wouldn't be joining the stream till later because she was working late. It slightly disappointed him, but he knew that her personal life was important.

He sighed, "What do you guys wanna talk about? Ask me anything," he said, looking towards the chat.

A few questions bubbled into his chat, some were questions that he's answered before. But one question actually caught his eye..

jaegerist3452: what do you think about y/n?

He furrowed his brows for a second, why would they be asking about her? Sure, he told people that he was speaking to her and they talked outside of the streams, but nobody really asked.

"What do I think about (Y/N)? Oh, she's dope as hell. I love talking to her, there's a lot more I can say but I dunno.. she might not like it," he replied, leaning back in his chair.

His eyes scanned back over to the chat where everyone was spamming telling him to say it and that she probably wouldn't judge him.

"You guys really want to know?" he asked, sitting up a bit.

erensimp43: yes!! i wanna know!

jaegerist45: i'm down to listen

erensbiggestfan2928: tell us!

iloveeren1010: i wanna hear!

Eren let out air through his nose. "Well (Y/N) is a really really sweet girl, she's so nice and easy to talk to. Not to mention how great of a listener she is, her personality is something I value the most about her; she always makes me laugh and talking to her is my favorite part of the day. Most of all, she's beautiful. She's such a pretty girl and.. damn, I'd love to make her mine."

The chat began to blow up with messages.

jaegerist45: that's so cute man

jaegerbombfan20: awe 🥺

iloveeren_: that's adorable holy shit

erensbiggestfan1083: simppppp but that's so nice

He smiled at the thought of her. "Yeah call me a simp but... she's really amazing," he said.

y/nloveseren: wow 🥺..

His eyes bulged out of his head when he saw her name in the chat, a blush crept onto his cheeks feeling embarrassment washing over him.

"O-Oh shit.."

Everyone began to flood messages about how Eren just got caught, he felt embarrassed and really bashful. She most likely heard everything he just said, what if she was uncomfortable?

"Shit I'm sorry (Y/N).. I shouldn't have said that shit.. we barely know one another and you're probably really upset," Eren said, rubbing his temples.

y/nloveseren: no Eren ur fine! what u said was actually really sweet 🥺💗.. thank you <3

He sat up, "Really? Wait.. so you're not mad?"

y/nloveseren: no not at all! :) i can say the same about you.. you've definitely been really sweet and i really like you

His jaw dropped and a smile formed onto his features. "Wow.. I have no words. Can we text? Please?" he asked, raising his brows.

y/nloveseren: of course <3!

Eren reached for his phone and saw her typing in their dms, his eyes flickered upwards at the chat which was now going crazy over what they both said to each other.

jaegerist45: dude that's so cute

jaegerbombfan20: I'M GONNA CRY OMG

The vibration of his phone broke him out of his thoughts, he went to Instagram to view the message from her.

(Y/N): hey :), i heard what you said and it really made my day. i was having a shitty day at work and hearing what you said made me so happy, so thank you for that. i like you, eren. i know you may not feel the same but talking to you has been so amazing and i would love to talk to you more ♡.

He smiled before sending a reply.

Eren: i would love to! talking to you has made me so much happier and i'm glad we met. everything i said was true and i want to keep talking, you're amazing.

(Y/N): sounds like a plan ❤.

Eren smiled and looked up to see his chat spamming his name, many people took the hint that he was talking to her.

"I got her guys.." he said with a smile.

[kkaeyva]

how they hold you

𐐪𐑂 a/n: i hope this is in character enough! i honestly spent hours on their voicelines to get a better perspective on their individual personalities,,

𐐪𐑂 includes: diluc, kaeya, childe, zhongli

𐐪𐑂 genre(s): fluff, a bit of crack for kaeya (sort of) and CHILDE

𐐪𐑂 pt.2 here!!

diluc

warmly, like a comfort blanket

his arms will wrap around your waist/torso and he’ll hold you somewhat like his personal teddy bear but he won’t admit that

doesn’t like pda, so he only does this in the privacy of his manor

and even then, away from the maids

subtly cuddling you is his go-to way to show his love, since he personally finds it embarrassing to express his love out loud he can never find the right words, either. you mean more to him than just words

he finds it especially comforting to be able to return home and sit in silence with you wrapped in his arms

but also softly asks you questions about your day or how you’re feeling sometimes, just to hear your voice

he calls your name in one of the gentlest tones you’ve ever heard— it’s reserved specifically for you as well

“how was your day today? i’d like to hear about it, if you don’t mind.”

he’ll listen— not saying much, of course— but he will talk a bit if you ask, just for you <3

kaeya

close, like you’ll disappear if he lets go

he loves showing you off

and when i say ‘loves’ i mean LOVES

he’ll snake his arm around your shoulders, lets his hand hang in front of your chest, and pulls you closer every so often

he does this even when the two of you are casually walking around, he just can’t keep his hands off you

also adores it when you hold his hand hanging off your shoulder

he smirks at anyone who looks at the two of you, even if they just glanced over

his ego is getting such a huge boost right now

“darling, look at all those jealous people,” he murmurs smugly, “they wish they were me right now.”

“kaeya, i think they’re just saying hello.”

that’s the fifth time he’s said that, and you’ve been walking around for twenty minutes,,

childe

eagerly, like you haven��t seen each other in decades

he’s obsessed with coming up from behind and wrapping his arms around you in a big bear hug

if he’s in a mischievous mood, he’ll tickle your sides relentlessly (your frenzied pleas of “stop, stop!!” between laughs and giggles be damned!!)

one time you accidentally smacked him in the face so hard HE DROPPED YOU AND STARTED POUTING

it’s okay tho— you gave him lots of apology kisses after (he loves those)

if you return his hugs, his face tinges just the slightest shade of pink but he acts really cocky about it, as he does

“ooh, someone’s clingy, huh?” he teases as if he wasn’t the one who initiated the hug

but of course he can’t help but be soft for you afterwards

zhongli

gently, like you’re the last thing in the world

his favourite way to hold you isn’t elaborate or very interesting, but then again he’s never been the type to make a show out of things

instead, he opts for caressing your face during intimate moments

he cradles your face with the palm of his hand and admires each and every part of it, like he’s holding the world’s rarest antique in his hand

he likes to slowly swipe his thumb across your cheek, and smiles gently while doing so

his eyes are so full of love the entire time

“my love— and i know i say this every time— but to me, you shine brighter than any gold. i mean it.”

gosh zhongli what are you doing to my heart ////

[buckys-black-dress]

inked

a/n: here she is!!! while i work on afl, here is my crackfic on tattoo artist bucky!! if u haven’t caught on yet, most of my writing is au’s because of all the possibilites in terms of scenarios and storylines. anyways, i hope you enjoy, lovies!!! xoxo, ali <3

wc: 2.8k 

[tattoo artist!bucky x fem!reader]

-

It was like an addiction. 

Your first tattoo you got was simple. It was a dainty, small one on your wrist.

But now, it was slowly developing into a sleeve.

Not that you minded, though. Your forearm was slowly becoming filled with designs that you kept going back and getting here and there.

And at the tattoo parlor near your apartment in Brooklyn, you had become a regular at this point.

It was called B&R Tattoo Shop, and it was run by two of the kindest, but most attractive men you’ve ever met. 

You’ve come to find out after getting to know the owners, that they opened the shop a bit after they returned from their second tour in the army and wanted to settle back in their hometown.  

Steve and James were hospitable to you, especially when they first met you. Steve was the one to meet you and speak with you at first, but he handed you off to James, or Bucky as he asked you to call him, because he was the artist at their shop that specialized in more of what you were looking for in terms of style. 

As far as first tattoo conversations go, you and Bucky got to know each other pretty well in one session. The tattoo itself took less than an hour, but it felt like Bucky was... prolonging it in a way, like he wanted to keep you there longer.

As you swung open the door of the shop, you were greeted by their piercer, Natasha. 

“Hey, back for another already?” She smirks from her spot behind the desk. While she wasn’t piercing, she usually worked the front if there was no one else free.

Your first tattoo had been done by Bucky, and you instantly fell in love.

With the tattoo. 

Well, Bucky too. Just a little bit.

He was extremely soothing and eased you into the process of tattooing you. He told you when something was going to happen, and as soon as you got used to the feeling of the needle against your skin. 

The more he talked to you, the less pain you felt. It was already not that painful, but you almost forgot about it with him talking to you. When he looked up to you as he finished, you looked like a confused puppy.

“Okay, all done, doll.” Bucky looked up at you, moving to turn off his machine.

“Oh... that was fast.” You furrowed your brows.

“Well, yeah, we moved pretty fast since it was a pretty small piece.” He explains, grabbing a paper towel and the anti-bacterial spray.

“Do you mind if I take a quick picture of it? I usually do, for my portfolio.” Bucky asks, inspecting the tattoo closely once again.

“Oh, yeah, that’s fine.” You wait for him to pull out his camera, take the picture, and he comes back with a piece of plastic film in his hand.

“Okay, so this saniderm has to stay on for about three days. This is how it’ll heal, and when you take it off just wash it up with a gentle soap and use a cream without any fragrance or any of that crap. I can give you a little of that spray if you wanna use it to clean it up if you ever feel like it’s dirty.” Bucky explains, giving you a mini bottle of the antibacterial spray.

“Thank you,” you say, moving to sit up in the chair. “How much do I owe you?”

“Uh, just about $40.” Bucky says without eye contact, heading to the computer at the front counter.

“$40? That’s it? When I signed the waiver it said the shop minimum was $75...?” You wonder out loud.

“Let’s just say you get a special discount, doll.” He smirks, typing something into the computer and only sparing you a glance.

“O-Oh. Alright.” You say sheepishly, handing him your credit card.

“Okay, you’re all set. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.” He tells you with a gentle smile. It really contrasted his aura; a big, beefy guy with a metal prosthetic arm, covered in probably hundreds of tattoos. But here he was, smiling like sunshine.

“I think I will be. Have a nice day, Bucky.” 

“You too, sweetheart.” He gives you that smirk again, making you feel like you might actually pass out. And not because you just had a needle jabbed into your skin for almost an hour.

“Uh, I already talked to Bucky for my session today. I know I’m a bit early, I can wait if he’s still working on someone else.” You tell Natasha with a smile.

“Sure, let me get you your waiver.” She says, and you plop down into one of the chairs at the front and pulling out your book to pass time after filling out the form.

After a few minutes, Bucky emerges with a girl from his little tattooing corner.

You hear his voice first, looking up from the book while he talks to her.

“Okay, since this was your first piece and pretty small, I’ll only charge ya $55 for it, doll.” Bucky tells the girl with a smile, and you immediately feel a pang in your chest.

You didn’t want to say you were jealous, but goddamn it, your breathing became just a little more shallow at the sight you were currently witnessing.

Even Natasha and Steve turned their heads to him, confused looks on both of their faces.

“Oh! Y/N, you’re here! C’mon back, I’m sure Nat already set you up with your waiver.” You nod, not saying a word as you follow him to the familiar chair.

“So, are we still doing what we discussed on the phone?” Bucky asks, setting up his area to tattoo you.

“Actually, I was thinking something different.” You say sharply.

“Different?” The shock is evident on his features. 

“Yeah. Different. Just want a little something on my collarbone.” You say, sitting down. 

“O-Okay... what were you thinking of?” He asks, pulling out his sketchbook.

“I want an olive branch, going from here to here.” You show him where you want it to start and end. It was a bit of a stretch right across the left side of your chest. “Something simple and minimal. I’ve been thinking of starting the top of my sleeve, this might be a good way to transition into it.” You say nonchalantly.

“Uhm... alright. How does this look?” Bucky asks, showing you his sketch. “I would, of course, add more detail to your liking, just let me know.” 

“Yeah, I want some more shading, please.” You say shortly. You honestly weren’t trying to be mean, but you were irritated.

But in the end, you really had no right to be. 

After almost ten sessions with Bucky, he hasn’t made any indication that he likes you the way you like him.

Sure, he calls you pet names, but he does that to everyone. Even discounts. You weren’t special. He was just being nice and doing his job.

So honestly, you had to cut the act here.

“Are you sure this is what you want? Are you saving the other design for our next session?” Bucky asks, growing more and more concerned with your odd behavior. Usually you would talk to him about your day, how work was, really anything. 

“I don’t know. I think I might ask Steve to do that one instead.” You say out of spite, more than anything. You would never take a design that Bucky made specially for you to another person to tattoo on you, even if it was his own business partner.

“Wha- Why? Did I do something? You’ve been acting really weird today...” Bucky questions you carefully. “Talk to me, doll. Did you have a bad day at work?”

But that, that right there, was your breaking point. Doll. 

“No, I’m fine. Let’s just get this done.” You huff, laying down after nodding to the sketch that Bucky drew out. 

Bucky’s brows furrowed even further, but didn’t ask any more questions. He laid down the stencil and asked if the placement was alright. You looked in the mirror he handed you and nodded briefly. 

The entire time Bucky had the machine in his hand, neither of you spoke a word. He tried to make brief conversation, but you only responded with a hum or nod. 

When he finally finished up, you got up and headed to the counter without a word after looking at the finished tattoo in the mirror. 

Your face was blank, emotionless, and Bucky was truly lost. 

After you paid the full price of your piece, you walked out of the shop, not even sparing anyone a glance. 

Once you left, the shop was dead silent. Everyone either just finished up with a client or didn’t have any at the moment, and the shop was blanketed in an extremely uncomfortable silence.

“What the hell was that, man?” Sam’s voice broke the silence, making Bucky’s head snap towards him. 

“I-I... I have no idea. She was acting so...so weird today.” Bucky looked more confused than ever.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Natasha’s voice cuts through the palpable silence.

“Wh- What the hell did I do? I asked her too, and she didn’t give me an answer...” Bucky mumbles.

“Do you like her?” She fires back with a fire in her eyes.

“W-Well, yeah. She’s a regular.” Bucky answers, looking at his fiddling hands.

“Not like that, you dunce. You know what I mean, don’t act dumb.” Natasha rolls her eyes.

Bucky sighs, not making eye contact yet again.

“I-... I do like her.” He says. “But I don’t think she feels the same.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ... You really are a dumbass.” Sam sighs out.

Steve snorts at his words, nodding in agreement.

“Buck, she got jealous.” He explains, shaking his head at his best friend’s obliviousness.

“J-Jealous? Of what?” Bucky scoffs in shock.

“That girl you had right before her. Gave her a discount, called her pet names. The whole shabang.” Natasha points out to him. “Also, you gotta stop giving out discounts like that. You’ll lose more money than you’re makin’.” Natasha scoffs. 

“Wh- But... She never said anything...?” Bucky thinks back to all the times you’ve sat in his chair. You never made any indication that you were outwardly interested in him.

“I think she said enough today without actually saying much.” Steve laughs. His friend was a real idiot.

“I... But, why didn’t she say anything before?” Bucky asked.

“Buck, you never said anything either. I guess that when she heard you talk to that girl like that, she thought you really didn’t like her like that at all. You treated that girl the same way you treat her.” Natasha explains to Bucky, who had a look of realization on his face.

“But... I was just... being nice...” He says with his head in his hands. 

“Well, now she thinks you do that with all you clients, so...” Sam says, making the brunet’s head shoot up.

“Fuck. Fuck. I fucked up everything!” He exclaims. “I-I do like her!” 

“Well, don’t tell us that, tell her!” Sam shouts back to him, and before Bucky can process, he’s pulling out his phone and dialing your phone number.

“C’mon, pick up, pick up,” He mumbles repeatedly, but the call goes to voicemail. “Fuck.”

“Not pickin’ up?” Steve questions, coming to the front and picking up the shop phone. “Gimme her number, she’s doesn’t have to shop saved to her phone, right?” 

“No, I don’t think she does.” Bucky says, watching as Steve dials your number.

“Hello?” Your voice sounds annoyed as it filters through the phone. “Who’s this?” 

“Uh, Y/N! Hi!” Steve speaks, looking at Bucky in a panic, his facial expression screaming, ‘talk to her!’ 

“Steve? What’s up?” You ask, wondering what he needed. 

“You uhh... you forgot your book here!” He blurts out, trying to find an excuse, but quickly found one upon seeing your book resting on the seat where you were waiting. 

“O-Oh... I guess I’ll just turn around. I’ll be there in a few. Thanks, Steve.” You say, ready to hang up.

“O-Okay. Bye, Y/N.” He clears his throat, hanging up. “You have like, ten minutes to get your shit together and talk to her when she gets here. Good luck.” Steve pats Bucky on the shoulder, ready to haul Natasha and Sam to the back to give you two some privacy.

Bucky thought that this was the longest ten minutes of his life, and he was trying to conjure up a speech in his head to confess to you.

Finally, when you did appear through the doors, you looked lost. You only saw Bucky, which made you even more aggravated from the fact that you had to turn back around.

You were ready to head home and wallow in peace, but alas, you wanted your book. 

Bucky just watched as you picked up the book from his grasp across the desk, your eyes not meeting his while he kept his gaze on you very intently. 

Just as you turned around to leave, Bucky’s voice cut through the unbearable silence.

“Y/N?” He simply asks, and you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of your lungs at the sound of his small voice. This wasn’t the Bucky you knew and... loved.

“Yes, James?” You simply respond, and Bucky cringes at the sound of his first name being used. 

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

“...Why? Is everything alright?” And although your voice didn’t give it away, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Any possible scenario popped into your head. He has a girlfriend. He’s gonna tell you he doesn’t wanna see you anymore. He-

“E-Everything’s fine, doll. Just wanted to tell you that... That I...” Bucky’s voice sounded strained, like there was something caught in his throat.

“Bucky, just spit it out.” You say, wanting to leave already.

“It’s just- I like you. A lot. And I’m so sorry for earlier with that other client. I was just trying to be nice, but I realized how that looked to you, and I never thought anything of it because I didn’t know if you liked me back or-” Bucky was rambling, and your eyes were wide as saucers.

“Bucky, Bucky stop. Let me talk before you drive your own head in with conclusions,” you say, resting your hand on top of his on the desk.

“I like you a lot, too. I didn’t think you like me either because of that girl before me. You just- you treated her the same way you treated me, and I got jealous. I know I didn’t have the right to be, but it just made me think that... that you didn’t feel the same way about me, that I was just another client to you. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions, and also for being kind of a bitch to you...” Now you were the one rambling, your hands flying all over the place in explanation.

“D-Doll, I never wanted to make you feel that way. I’m sorry, too. I should’ve told you before, before I almost blew everything with you that we’ve been building these past months.” He says placing one large tattooed hand and one metal hand on the sides of your face. “But I’m not gonna miss my chance again. Y/N, would you like to go on a date with me?”

“I-I would love to, Bucky. Took you long enough to ask me.” You giggle, holding onto the hands on your face.

“Yeah, well, I’m kind of an idiot, if you haven’t already noticed.” He laughs, gazing into your eyes with a look that almost turned you to mush in his hands. 

“Do... do ya wanna go now?” You ask, nodding your head to the door.

“Sure, let me go grab my jacket from the back.” He tells you, and you nod, watching as he keeps his eyes on you until he disappears to the back.

“My man, who would’ve thought you’d finally man up?” Sam ridicules him as soon as Bucky appears.

“Dude, shut up. I got a date to get to, see you losers later.” He rolls his eyes, moving back out where you’re smiling at him.

“Ready, angel?” Bucky asks, slipping his hand into yours.

“Ready, handsome.” You reply, and as soon as you step out into the fall air, you plant a kiss on his cheek. “Where to, lover boy?”

[strangeradventuresofp]

symphony (arthur morgan x reader)

this story involves smut!! please do not read this if you are not over 18 years old

a/n: not entirely back to writing yet, but i did this and i sorta like it so lemme know what you think. also this is my first time ever writing smut that wasn’t for a roleplay so im super nervous about it. but anyway have a story with my favourite boy 

masterlist

It felt like your gut had been ripped open, like there were pins where your heart was before it cracked and shattered into thousands of fragments that would never be found. It was like someone had put a bullet in your skull and it was rattling around, hitting against every nerve and causing as much damage as it went along. 

Your blood turned to ice in your veins at the sight of him. Never had you seen him look so weak. So helpless. How in his voice he seemed okay despite the state of his body – at least two open wounds, his shirt stained multiple shades of red that weaved in with brown from what had already dried. Hot tears stung in your eyes when they studied him. Despite the warped vision, it was obvious to anyone that he was in pain. How his face contorted and twisted whilst Miss Grimshaw washed over his wounds to get a better look. The grunts and curses that left his dried lips were unbearable to listen to. 

Once you tore your eyes away from him, you assessed the others in the scene. Dutch stood at the foot of the table, his arms crossed over his chest and his hands balled into fists so tight that his knuckles whitened and cracked. Every now and again he mumbled words of encouragement or instructions to tell Miss Grimshaw what to do, despite her knowing much more about how to patch someone up. 

Miss Grimshaw had taken charge immediately, as soon as he had been brought into camp by the others on the job. She removed his shirt swiftly, washing his wounds with a cloth and water. Her expert hands cauterised his wounds and though she winced at every sound of discomfort, she knew that she was helping, and so she continued.

Tilly was around helping Miss Grimshaw, running to get things that she needed presently or that she would need, or that she might need just in case. She fed him alcohol for the pain and listened close when she was asked to do something to help.

You? You simply stood there, frozen. Miss Grimshaw had asked you for something, but you neither moved nor even heard her request for your brain was travelling at a speed that caused you physical pain. The noises he made left an awful taste in your mouth, knowing that you couldn’t help despite wanting to more than anything in the world. 

It was about then that Hosea took your hands in his and gently pulled you away with a “Come on, sweet girl.” And though you protested, you let him take you, because you couldn’t do anything else. You couldn’t just stand and watch him as he was an inch away from death. It hurt. Hosea took you far enough away that you couldn’t hear the sounds of pain that each felt like a bullet to the chest.

He held you to him, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Hosea.” Was the first thing that came out of your mouth once you had remembered how to use your voice. The man smiled a fatherly smile.

“Nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.” He assured, though you couldn’t seem to meet his eye. Gently, he squeezed your hand as a sign of reassurance. Though, reassurance for what, you couldn’t be entirely sure. “I know you wanted to help. It’s difficult when the people we love get hurt.”

You scoffed. “I… I don’t even know what bein’ in love feels like. But, I guess, maybe…” Trailing off, your mind began to wander just as the thoughts pulled a sigh from your lips. 

“Hosea, I don’t—”

“Do you think I don’t see the way you look at him?” Hosea asked with a raised eyebrow, clearly amused that you had tried to deny his claims. 

“Sweetheart, you look at him like you’re starving and he’s a hot meal.”

“I do?” Your voice sounded so small against the deafening silence. As much as you wanted to deny it, Hosea was right, and he knew it. It was terrifying. “I—I’ve never been in love before.” Startling thoughts began cascading down you. You and Arthur were close, real close. You told each other everything. You could be vulnerable around each other. You were there for each other. Was all of that about to be ruined because you were stupid enough to catch feelings?

“What do I do?” 

Hosea chuckled at that. “Get some rest, sweetheart. Try not worry about him, he’ll be fine. He always is.” While you appreciated his attempt of reassurance, you honestly didn’t feel much better at all. Instead, your brain was flooding with the thought of being in love with Arthur on top of the question of whether he was actually going to survive his injuries. 

You stayed just out of camp for a while longer, until you could hear the noise inside start to die down until it was obvious that everyone was asleep. You crept back in, being sure to not make too much noise, you didn’t want to wake anyone. No, not that, you didn’t want anyone to know that you were visiting him. Grabbing a chair, you pulled it up beside where Arthur’s was body was lay and took a seat. You looked over him, humming lightly, Miss Grimshaw really did a good job of patching him up. Your hands wrapped themselves around one of his, and you simply sat at his side until morning, being sure to move away at least two hours before everyone else woke up.

~~~

A few weeks later 

~~~

Chores. Although you helped out on jobs sometimes, since Arthur and Hosea taught you how to shoot properly, you enjoyed helping out around camp, too. It was the least you could do to help out Miss Grimshaw, considering she saved the man that you loved. Besides, most members of the camp were out either on jobs or shopping, or at saloon, so, you were spending your time washing clothes to help out.

Arthur, luckily, survived his injuries and although he was still recovering, he was back up and out on jobs again. Dutch did make sure not to put him on any dangerous (by his standard) jobs, despite Arthur protesting because he’s fine, it was just a couple of scratches and—Goddamn it, Dutch I don’t need supervision, I’m alright and—

“Careful you don’t rub a hole in that shirt.” A deep chuckle came from beside you. Your head snapped up immediately at the sound.

“Arthur!” You only then noticed how hard you had been squeezing the shirt in your hands and how hard you were scrubbing it against the washboard. Loosening your grip, you smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I—Wait a minute, what the hell are you doing up and around? Dutch told you that you rest today.” A laugh left Arthur’s lips as he held his hands up in surrender. “You should be resting.” With that, you stood, ushering him back to his tent where he could lay down. He took a seat on his bed, looking up at her with a strange expression. Was he… Nervous?

He reached out for your hand, gently tugging you over to take a seat beside him. Instead of letting go of your hand, he held it, his gaze fixed on it. He delicately traced over the veins that peeked through your skin, too delicate, like if he held you any firmer that you would shatter before him. His eyebrows drew together, and you hummed slightly, searching his eyes.

“Arthur? Y’alright?” You asked softly, your eyes furrowing in concern. 

“I’m alright, darlin’, I just…” He took a deep breath. “Going through all that and, not knowing whether I was gonna die, it, uh, it made me realise a couple things. Shit, uh…” 

“It’s okay. Take your time.” You assured, a smile crossing your face. Arthur looked up at you, a troubled look in his eyes that gave you an awful feeling in your stomach. You breathed out through parted lips, ready to take in the bad news that he was about to tell you. His eyes flickered slightly, quickly looking down your lips before he swallowed thickly, looking back up at your eyes.

“It made me realise that, I’m terrified of losing you. And—And I think that I… Shit. I’m in love with you.” Arthur’s face burnt up entirely as he confessed, flushing red from head to toe. When you didn’t respond, only blinking blankly at him, he pulled his hands away from yours, looking away as he rubbed the nape of his neck anxiously. Your hand reached out to cup his cheek, tilting his face back to you where you planted a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. You could feel how his breath was pulled from his lungs as you did so and his eyes lit up, though his face still looked worried.

“I love you, Arthur Morgan. More than anything in the world.” And with that, his lips captured yours in such a way that had your own breath hitching at the sensation. Your lips danced against each other’s rhythmically, and your chests moved up and down in sync. 

You had always loved Arthur. From the moment that he had saved your life in the woods when you first met. This big, scary outlaw meant everything to you. This gang was the closest thing you had to family. No, it was your family. Things had always been different with Arthur, though. Things you had never given a second thought about until now. Longing glances from across camp, touches that were a little too long to simply be considered friendly. Putting his arm around you at the campfire so that you wouldn’t be cold, bringing each other stew so that the other wouldn’t starve. The way he spoke to you; how his voice changed to be much softer when he addressed you. The urgency in his voice when he thought that you were in danger. The way that he always worried about you, just how you worried about him. The way that he looked at you, just how you looked at him.

It all made sense now.

The kiss was incapsulating. In this moment where nothing else mattered, merely you and him. You each opened your mouths, delving your tongues in to dance with the other as your tastes swirled together. He tasted like honey and cigarette smoke, you tasted like wild berries and rum. His hand hovered over the curve of your waist for a few seconds, before he hesitantly placed it down, pulling you close to his chest. Your arms snaked up his chest and wound around his neck. Arthur hooked an arm around your waist, gently lifting and shifting you over to sit in his lap.

You broke the kiss, breathing heavier than usual as you looked at him. A sweet shade of rose covered the cheeks that you gently pecked before stroking with your thumbs whilst you cupped his face. 

“We don’t have to go any farther.” Arthur declared; his voice low despite there being no one around. You breathed for a moment, scared of all the new feelings that erupted throughout your body. Though, the fireworks in your stomach couldn’t be denied. So, you smiled.

“You—Your wounds…” You mentioned, and he chuckled softly.

“Darlin’, I’m fine. But we can stop if you ain’t comfortable.”

“I don’t want to stop.” 

A smile spread over Arthur’s lips at your words and he hummed in response. “Tell me if you wanna stop, okay?” He asked, cupping your cheek, to which you nodded before leaning in to kiss his lips once again. You couldn’t get enough of him. He tasted so good. Whilst your lips worked against his, his practised hands ran over your body and his fingers began to work at the buttons on your shirt, threading them back through the hole before pushing it off of your shoulders. His hands moved up to knead softly at your breasts, rolling your nipples between his calloused fingers which earned a mewl from your throat. 

He pulled away from your lips, jaw falling slack when his eyes fell over your now bare top half. He hummed as his excitement grew, moving your head to the side with his thumb before burying his face in your neck which he peppered with open mouthed kisses and gentle nips that began to purple the flushed skin, branding you to him. With your noises of approval and your fingers unthreading the buttons of his blue shirt egging him on, he began to suck the skin at your clavicle to which a breathy moan was pulled from your throat. 

Shrugging his shirt from his shoulders, you moved your legs on either side of his hips, straddling him. Your fingers gently caressed each of his scars that you felt. He was beautiful. As he continued to leave his mark on you, your hands reached up to tangle in his locks, tugging ever so slightly, but a growl left him, nevertheless.

“Do it again.” Arthur pleaded, his lips brushing against your skin to cause goose bumps. A low groan fell out of his kiss swollen lips when you repeated the action. His large hands cupped your ass, pulling you closer against him, his arousal rubbing against you through layers of fabric that separated you from feeling all of him. You needed to feel all of him. You moaned at the contact, fumbling messily with his jeans while you kissed him, but he pulled away. 

He picked you up, laying you down before he shed himself of the remainder of his clothing. While his back was turned, you did the same. When Arthur turned around, he bit his lip at the sight of you, flushed, sprawled out for him on his bed. He licked his lips hungrily, cock twitching before he lay above you, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips which you held while his hand dug lower. His fingers spread you open, teasing by gently brushing against your clit. He smirked at your wetness.

“Arthur—” You whined. “Please.” He took your endorsement, groaning in delight at the sounds you made when he quickened his pace, curling his fingers inside you. The hot coil began to grow in your stomach, and he watched as you writhed beneath him, moaning deliciously at how good he was making you feel. His cock was painfully hard and ached for release, but he wouldn’t stop until he had brought you over the edge at least once before he fucked you. 

“This for me?” Your hips bucked up in a silent plea for more friction and he chuckled slightly into your mouth before pushing a digit inside you. With a sharp inhale beforehand, you moaned in approval, causing him to add a second finger, pumping in and out of you at a slow pace. 

“So good for me, darlin’.” Arthur’s voice was husky when he spoke, his words wrapped in lust and desire, eyes dark with adoration. His free hand reached up to toy with your nipples, pinching gently, teasingly to bring you closer to your release. 

It wasn’t until your hips bucked uncontrollably and a strangled cry left your plump lips that Arthur pulled his fingers out of you, the hot coil snapping in such a wonderful way that left you aching for more. His mouth opened and closed around his fingers, coated with your juices. When the taste hit his mouth, a low groan rumbled in his chest, and the mushroom head of his member leaked with arousal. 

Arthur didn’t touch himself once until he had brought you over the edge one more time with his tongue alone, and when that hot coil broke in your stomach once again, he lapped up the remainder of your juices, making sure to not waste a single drop by licking along the insides of your thighs for any excess. His cock throbbed painfully from the influx of lust, his hand stroking himself up and down a couple of times before he pushed himself into you. The sound you made from him entering you alone nearly made Arthur cum there and then, but he was determined to make you feel good. After pushing in about halfway, he pulled back out completely, groaning at the sight of your slick on his cock. You whined at the lack of contact, reaching to touch him but he swatted your hand away.

“I don’t think so.” He said with a chuckle before pushing into you entirely. You cried out, digging your nails into his shoulders, loving how he stretched you. “Mm—” Arthur’s hips thrusted against yours once as he moaned at how you clenched around him. “Such a good girl for me.” He set a fast pace, each thrust increasing in power and might, and soon enough an animalistic desire consumed him, his hips clashing against yours. Your names left each other’s lips among curses and beautiful sounds of pure pleasure. Series’ of moans spilled out from your reddened lips.

Arthur kissed you, hard. You could feel the swelling of your lips. The bristles of his unkempt stubble tickled your skin. When your tongues met, you groaned at the taste, your taste. Your nails sunk further into his skin and he groaned at the sensation, his spare hand reached down to focus your sensitive bundle of nerves with the pad of his thumb. His cock throbbed against your walls as the familiar feeling began to grow in your stomach once again. He pounded into you with a near primal hunger, your plea for him and your beautiful sounds being the only thing to fill his ears. Arthur made his own share of delicious noises, both of your voices ruined with pleasure though it sounded like the most stunning symphony.

You felt your third climax nearing, the white-hot coil repeating but so much stronger than before. With your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands on you, he made you feel wanted. He made you feel loved. It was nearing closer, and closer and you covered your face to which Arthur removed your hands from your face, pinning them above your head with one hand while the other returned to its spot at your clit.

“Nuh-uh, darlin’. Hafta see you.”

Soon enough, your release washed over you like a wave of pleasure. A ravishing sound forced itself from you, your legs trembled, your body shaking violently from the pleasure. Arthur felt your climax all over him, his body entirely racked with pleasure. As you clenched around him, he pushed in once more and pulled out, releasing with a husky shout that you would dream of for weeks on end. His juices lay atop the bedsheets and he sighed happily, pulling you in for a soft, loving kiss.

Arthur reached over into his pile of clothes to find a dark piece of cloth, his bandana. He soaked in some water from a bucket outside his tent and gently dragged it over you skin, revelling in how incessantly beautiful you were. At first, when he reached your folds, you whined from the overstimulation, but soon relaxed at the feeling.

Once you were cleaned up, he lay beside you, cradling you in his strong arms. You pecked his lips before resting your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Your eyes fluttered closed and Arthur hummed contently. “I love you, darlin’.”

lmk if you want to be added to any of my taglists!!<3

“I love you too, Arthur.”

[palbabor-writes]

Adhesion

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT/18+ only, unbalanced/unhealthy relationships, TA/student dynamics, tw.mild drug use, tw.bribery, tw.recording without consent, tw.dubcon, brat taming, fingering, cucking 

Words: 8,915

You can feel his gaze; can tell he’s watching you from hooded eyelids and you do your best to resist his pull, not wanting to be drawn in by that eerie blue of his eyes. It’s not that you don’t like his eyes; no, if anything, you like them a little too much. They’re a beautiful shade of shifting cerulean and possibly the only positive thing about the man. 

“You sound upset, babe,” he taunts, taking another drag on his silver vape.

“I’ve told you a hundred times, don’t call me that. And me? Upset? You’re a real Sherlock, you know? What fucking gave that away? Oh, maybe the fact that I pay this university good money for these classes and I could actually use some support. But what do I get instead? A lazy TA who can’t be bothered to do anything more than the bare minimum. It’s a goddamn miracle I’m passing, and it’s certainly no thanks to you,” you snarl, twisting back to your work, ignoring the sound of his chair, gliding ever closer.

Notes: i bribed @libiraki and this fic is my part of the bargain. you heard it here folks, full stop, i am trash. 

this story falls under the University AU that i’m working on: Licentia Docendi - the first fic is Practicum & is all about Professor Shigaraki. For Adhesion, Dabi is a TA: Teacher’s Assistant in a college chemistry class. 

my reward for completing this is User 433 by libiraki. go read it, it’s killer & i’m so fucking pleased my nefarious deeds have paid off.     

Adhesion ad·he·sion /ədˈhēZH(ə)n/ noun the molecular force of attraction in the area of contact between two unlike bodies that acts to hold them together

What time did he say this was supposed to start at? There’s no way you’re late. Did he tell you the wrong room number? You paw into your low slung backpack and wiggle out the [Teacher’s Assistant (TA) handout for Organic Chemistry II]. Nope, you’re not in the wrong room, so it looks like he’s the one who’s late. 

Not too surprising, judging from his appearance. 

You’d only caught a glimpse of him that morning. He’d sauntered to the front of class when the professor had finished with the preliminaries of the syllabus and introduced the lanky man with inky black hair and some of the scruffiest clothes you’d ever seen, as nothing other than, DABI. No last name, no other credentials, just a simple, ah, here’s the TA for this class; he’ll give you a handout on meeting times and be sure to follow his lead with the labs. This Dabi fellow hadn’t even grunted out a hello. He’d merely waited, hands tucked firmly into his jacket pockets, and dropped down from the raised platform once the professor finished his brief introduction. 

You tend to avoid the TA sessions. They’re usually just reviews and endless reminders on the readings, and study prep has never been a weak spot for you, but this semester is different. You’re a junior and you’ve got to push through six classes this term if you want to graduate on time. You haven’t slacked off, haven’t taken less than a full course load. No, it’s just bad luck that they only offered organic chemistry during the Fall term this year.

Thanks to the addition of Organic Chemistry, now all of your classes are heavy sciences. Ick. Well, it’s the price you’ll have to pay for your pharmaceutical degree. It’s not that you don’t like the classes. Honestly, they’re fascinating, chock full of information and techniques that you love to dive into. Nah, it’s not the material of the classes themselves, but the course load and labs that’ll be your downfall if you don’t keep pace. 

So, here you are, waiting in an empty room in the library’s basement for the errant TA of organic chemistry to show. You’re a little shocked that no one else has come to this session. Maybe they’ll try for the other times, or they might be under the blissful impression that they can score the ‘A’ with no outside help. Who knows? 

You’re twiddling with your phone and debating leaving when the study hall door opens. His dark hair is the first thing you notice. It gleams in the bright light of the fluorescents, and you’re distracted by the sheen. It’s almost a little too black. 

It’s not that it doesn’t fit him. If anything, it makes the angled features of his face and neck stand out and draws your eyes to his pale patches of skin. They’re patches because his collarbone and lower neckline are wrapped with spiraling whorls of tattoos; they’re everywhere. How had you missed that? Was his jacket zipped up when he stood in front of the class?

“What’s up?” he calls out, tilting his chin at your wide eyes. He pauses beside the table you’re sitting at and regards you frankly. His eyes are half hidden by his fringed mop of hair, but you can see that they’re a vibrant blue. It’s a haunting color, almost otherworldly. You don’t particularly like the coldness that’s reflected at you, so you focus on the rest of his face instead. He’s got a few nostril piercings, three little studs that shine out when he wrinkles his nose at your bewildered expression. 

“You hard of hearing or something?” Dabi scolds, crossing his arms and glaring down at you. You shake your head and loosen your heavy tongue, finally pulling your gaze away from him. 

“I-I’m here for the TA session.”

“No fucking way!” he mocks, a barked laugh escaping his quirked lips. “Alright captain obvious, let’s get you set up so I can go about my day. Sign this and I’ll give you the power point slides for this week.”

He yanks his backpack forward and tosses a few mismatched papers your way. One is so badly crumpled you have to iron it out with your arm, ignoring the slight stick that clings to one side. Ah, it’s a sign-up sheet. But, hang on, isn’t he supposed to poll the class on these meeting times? He can’t just pick the times himself, can he? You’ve never seen that before. What’s going on?

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to ask which time works best for us before you set the schedule?” you question, sliding the paper back to him. 

His long fingers catch the sheet before it can tumble off of the narrow table and he gives you a wolfish smirk. “Ah, you’re gonna be one of those,” he grumbles, pulling back one chair and flopping into it, splaying his long legs out in front of him. 

“Tch, what do you mean by, ‘one of those?’ I’m not some green freshman, I’ve been to TA meetings before. You ask us for the times.”

“Hmph, okay. Let’s put it this way then, you’re here now, right?”

“Yeah. I–”

“So it’s fair for me to assume that you can make this time?”

“I can today, but what if it’s a one-time thing? What if I have another class or a job?”

“Do you?” his voice drops as he lingers on that ultimate word, lacing his fingers together and leaning forward, blue eyes watching you closely. 

“N-no, I don’t personally have any objections to this time. But what if others–”

“Others?” he scoffs. “I’m sorry, do you see anyone else in here? We’ve been talking, what, five minutes? And I was, eh, almost fifteen minutes late? That sound right? Hate to say it, but I think it’s just gonna be me and you babe.” 

“Ew. Don’t call me that! It’s (F/N)(L/N). Gross, who does that? Babe? You don’t even know me,” you sputter, leaning away from his hunched gaze, earning yourself another clipped chuckle. 

“Ooh, so sensitive! Alright, miss. “I’m not a freshman,” if there are no more objections from the peanut gallery, go ahead and sign this so I can conclude this session. Don’t particularly like chatting with you either, since you’re taking years off my life with these pointless questions.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a dick,” you bristle, crossing your arms and glowering down at the crinkled sign-up sheet that Dabi’s pushed back toward you. 

“Damn, we’re already talking about my dick! I usually reserve that kinda thing for the third week, but I’ll let it slide. Now, be a good little girl and sign that paper for me.”

A month in this whole TA arrangement hasn’t gotten any easier. 

Half of the time Dabi doesn’t even show up, opting to text you the notes and study guides, waving you off with some vague excuse, or promise to make it up next time. The days he appears for the session, he’s always late and glumly sits beside you in the vacant study hall, tinkering with his phone and doing his best to avoid any kind of work. 

But today? Today takes the cake. 

He’s got his booted feet on the table and is taking quiet hits on his vape pen, exhaling long breaths of clear steam into the study hall. “Dabi,” you hiss across the room, aghast at his cavalier attitude. “You’re not supposed to smoke in here! Wait. Oh, my god! Is that weed?”

“Shhh, Jesus. Keep your voice down, mom,” Dabi sneers, puffing a wisp of smoke your way. “Why don’t you try focusing on your work, huh? You’ve got twelve more molecules to stabilize and your functional groups are a mess; you don’t have time to worry about me. Come on, chop, chop. I’ve got places to be.”

“Ugh. Places to be. What a load of bullshit. You know what? I wonder what might help me speed things up? Oh! I know! What if you did your job instead of getting stoned out of your mind?”

Dabi swivels around in his rolling chair, lowering his legs from the table and cocking a dark eyebrow at you. He’s foregone his tattered jacket today, and the sleeves of tattoos that lace up the chorded muscles of his arms are on full display. He’s done that on purpose, the bastard; likely noticed that you like to stare at them, your eyes engrossed by the shadings and designs. Not your fault you like some of the artwork. You’re not looking at him, not admiring any kind of twist or pull of his forearms. Not thinking about how nice they look when he wears a low cut shirt, or rolls up his sleeves. Nope, you promise yourself, careful to keep your eyes down and on your notes, it’s not that.  

You can feel his gaze; can tell he’s watching you from hooded eyelids and you do your best to resist his pull, not wanting to be drawn in by that eerie blue of his eyes. It’s not that you don’t like his eyes; no, if anything, you like them a little too much. They’re a beautiful shade of shifting cerulean and possibly the only positive thing about the man. 

“You sound upset, babe,” he taunts, taking another drag on his silver vape.

“I’ve told you a hundred times, don’t call me that. And me? Upset? You’re a real Sherlock, you know? What fucking gave that away? Oh, maybe the fact that I pay this university good money for these classes and I could actually use some support. But what do I get instead? A lazy TA who can’t be bothered to do anything more than the bare minimum. It’s a goddamn miracle I’m passing, and it’s certainly no thanks to you,” you snarl, twisting back to your work, ignoring the sound of his chair, gliding ever closer.

“Such a fucking sour puss. I bet you’d look a lot prettier if you’d wipe that scowl off your face every once in a while. Lemme see what you’ve got,” Dabi snorts, sauntering out of his chair and bending over your work. 

His tattooed arm braces itself beside your shoulder and the exposed skin brushes against you, making you unconsciously scoot awkwardly to one side.

“Don’t get so close,” you chastise, doing your best to ignore the pull of his cologne. It’s got a hint of patchouli and oranges, and it mixes so well with the cloying sweetness of his lingering vape smoke that it makes your head swim.

What’s he doing? This… well, it’s not like him. He never “checks” your answers, he usually just tells you to submit it to his email and he’ll get back to you later, which he never does. You don’t like this. Nope, not one fucking bit.

He takes his time studying your work, one long finger etching its way across your scribblings. His skin is warm; almost too warm. The heat of it against your clothed side makes you shiver and you duck your head at your unbidden reaction, balling your hands into fists and scrunching them against your tense thighs.

When he finally replies, he dips his head close to your ear, keeping his voice low and steady. “Not bad, (L/N). Nice to see you have some capacity for development after all.”

“What the hell does that mean?” you huff, whipping your head to his.

Oh, that’s right; he’s close.

The lazy smirk he gives you stretch his lips over his teeth and his eyes fall to a half mast as he leans closer, ghosting his breath over your face. “It means, you did a good job, babe. I’m impressed.”

You must be gaping at him; there’s no way that you’re not, but you can’t fucking think, not when he’s so close. If he wanted to, he could close that gap and he’d be against you. His lips look nice from here, smooth and pink, and you suddenly have a wild urge to see what he tastes like. Heart pounding, you feel yourself tilting your chin upwards, your lips parted, tongue dancing across the open plushness, dampening them, waiting, hoping that he’ll just…

“Practice your Lewis structures. Some of those compounds look fucking ridiculous,” Dabi replies, pushing himself off of the table and peering down at you, eyes gleaming with poorly concealed mirth. “But, you’re on the right track. Finish this shit up. Gotta go.”

“W-what?” you sputter, trying to quiet your pounding heart and steady yourself, upended by his short-lived…seduction? What exactly was that?

“Already told you, got some place to be. Send me the screenshots, if you wanna’, but I’m prolly’ not gonna look at them until after the weekend. Well, see ya’ around, (L/N).” And, with a last wave, he snatches up his backpack and saunters out the double doors, leaving you alone.

“So what are you thinking? Just go up to the dean’s office and ask to file a report against him?” your boyfriend questions, his voice hazy and distant through the filter of your earbuds. You’d called him a few minutes ago, once you had a good signal and filled him in on, well, most of the details. 

After Dabi left, you’d gathered up your things and paced the floors of the library, debating your next move. He’s not doing his job. That much is a fucking given. You’d even talked with a few of the other students in your class the other day and they all said the same thing: He’s lazy and he can’t be bothered to help. Apparently, you’re the only student who had one on one sessions with him, but the group meetups sound worse. They told you he usually just opened the textbook and asked them to copy down definitions, and those were the days when he showed up for the meetings.   

“Yeah, and today he really outdid himself. The jerk basically… well… he’s not doing his job,” you flounder at the omission of Dabi coming onto you. If you’re honest with yourself, he hadn’t really done much, and you’d been the one who was surging forward, suddenly tempted by his closeness, his scent, and those rippling sets of tattoos and bright blue eyes. No. Stop it. It’s the last straw, you remind yourself, shaking your head and refocusing on the familiar tone of your boyfriend’s voice.

“I’m sick of it. Midterms are coming, and I’m not about to let him hold the fate of my GPA in his stupid hands.”

“Go get em,’ love! You’re totally right, you’ve worked so hard and you shouldn’t have to put up with some middle-aged asshole’s antics. It’s been a crazy week for you, so dinner’s on me tonight. Wherever you wanna’ go, name the place and I’ll make sure we get a smile back on your face!”

That… that’s so like your boyfriend. He’s always so sweet and caring. Always looking out for you, ready to pick you back up and dust you off each time you feel you’ve fallen short. He’s perfect. He’s all you want, all you need… right?

Goddamn it, you think after you hang up your phone and hop on the elevator that will whisk you up to the dean’s offices, you’d almost kissed your TA. Here’s your boyfriend, being the most supportive and loving thing in the entire world and all you can think about is how fucking good Dabi’s cologne had smelt has he leaned over you. Some partner you are. 

The dean’s office is emptier than you expected. There’s a single secretary, who is sitting behind a low desk, twirling a dark lock of hair and skimming over the pages of a magazine. She looks up when you clear your throat and a practiced smile lifts her lips. 

“Hey there! How can I help you?”

“I uh, need to file a complaint against someone in the College of Sciences,” you explain, dropping your heavy backpack from your shoulders and scratching at the back of your head balefully. You’re likely not the first one to file a grievance against the Dabi, so why are you suddenly bothered by the idea? It’s not going to get better. Just remember all the shitty, half-baked sessions he’s made you sit through (Y/N) and get this over with. 

“Oh! I’m sorry to hear that! Let me grab you the registry of TA’s and adjunct professors,” the secretary chirps, pushing her rolling chair across the wooden floors to snatch at a heavy binder on a shelf. 

“I can, um, just tell you his name. If that makes it any easier,” you quietly reply, one foot tapping agitatedly against the other. What is this uneasy feeling that keeps zinging through your mind? It’s going to be an anonymous complaint. It’s not like he’ll ever see it. He likely won’t even know it’s you. Some of the other students had discussed the idea. He could think it’s one of them, not you.  

“No, no,” the secretary replies, sliding the binder across the glass counter of the desk. “It’s no trouble at all! Just search for their name and fill out all the particulars on the university system. Doing our best to reduce waste! Gotta keep that paper trail down! We’ve got a little kiosk outside, close to the elevators. It’ll help you with all the details, just click on the form and it will file it into our online system. The dean’s office closes in fifteen minutes, so be sure to bring the binder back as soon as you’re done!” 

“Uh, ok,” you mumble, hefting the thick book into your hands. “Do you want me to take it with me, or just look it up here?”

“You can take it out there! It’s sorted by department, for ease of use, so it shouldn’t take you long to find them.” 

Great. 

You lug the binder to one of the many empty tables outside the sliding doors of the office. Slipping your backpack into a vacant chair, you flip through the lists and sections. Chemistry, chemistry… ah! Okay, you’re in the right section. Now to find Dabi, should be easy enough.

Yeah, no. There’s no one in here listed as “Dabi.” What the hell is this? Some kind of elaborate scheme? Is he just a random student who’s fronting as a TA? It would explain some of his general disinterest, but he knows more about molecular chemistry than anyone you’ve ever met, and that skill isn’t exactly a common parlor trick. 

Oh? My secret talent? Well, I can tell you about isotopic labeling and the exact timing of the reaction speeds! Wanna hear more? 

No. No one does. Plus, the professor had introduced him to the class on the first day. He knew him and Dabi’s not exactly inconspicuous. There’s gotta be something you’re missing. 

You close the heavy book and make your way back into the office, fingernails tapping out a disjointed pattern against the plastic of the binder. “Hey, um, sorry to bother,” you begin, tilting your head and biting your lip at the secretary’s beaming face.

“No bother! Did you find them? Everything work okay in the system?”

“No. I, uh, couldn’t find their name? He said his name was Dabi, never gave us a last name so, um, that’s all I have to go on,” you explain, placing the binder back on her desk and praying she’ll give you some kind of explanation.

“Ooh! Dabi! Sorry about that, he’s a special case, since he goes by his nickname. He’s under the adjunct section. I believe his last name is Todoroki,” she twists the book toward herself and flips through the pages at an alarming rate, eyes skimming over the names. 

“Here he is! Touya Todoroki! They don’t put nicknames, or preferred names, since it’s an official listing. He’s a brilliant man and one of our brightest junior professors. I know the university is hoping to snap him up this coming semester, get him on track for a tenured position. 

He’s a little unconventional, but he’s a super nice guy and… oh! Wait a minute, you wanted to file a complaint against him, right? I’m so sorry, here I am, running my mouth! You want a pen and paper? So you can jot his university number and info down? Lets me keep the book in here. Four minutes to closing after all, might as well save you the trip back.” She whips out the procured sheet of blank printer paper and a university stamped pen, holding them both toward you, a friendly smile still crinkling her eyes.

“Thanks,” you sigh, a little bewildered by her chatter. From the sound of it, Dabi’s got some university backing and is a ‘nice guy’. Coulda’ fooled you. Doesn’t matter, you think, crossing the t’s of his first and last name; he’s likely just skimming by on the promise of tenure, and the sooner the school knows about his lackadaisical attitude, the better. 

You’re typing in Todoroki, Touya when the secretary closes up the office of the dean, flicking off the lights and waving a goodbye to your tensed expression. A few minutes later, the elevator swallows her up and the only sound that fills the empty space is the clacking of the keys as you finish typing out your complaint. 

Alright. Got most of the minor points out of the way. 

Inattentive to the lessons, frequent absences, missing materials, smoking in the library; you’ll leave out the mention of weed, it’s not like you can claim innocence on that charge yourself and you’re not looking to have the guy arrested, just stripped of his TA status. You could mention the near kiss, but it feels too vague, and it’s not like he made a move on you. No, all that shifting forward rests squarely on your own shoulders. Damn it, stop thinking about that! You’ve got a boyfriend, someone who loves you, who’s going to take you to dinner! Hit complete and get the fuck outta’ here, before someone–

“Whatcha’ doing?”

His voice makes you jump half a foot into the air, your right knee contacting the protruding keyboard of the university kiosk. “Fuck,” you hiss, twisting around and hunching over at the bright spots of pain that flash across your vision as you rub your fingers over the hurt. The soft footfalls of his approach snap you out of your dazed reverie and your head snaps up, eyes widening at the sight of him.

He’s got a loose fitting white shirt on and you can see the coiling of his tattooed muscles under the thin fabric. His chin is lowered and his eyes are distant pinpricks of blue flame in the low lights. Booted feet take a few more steps toward you, but he pauses beside the table that your backpack is sitting on, hands sliding into his dark jeans, waiting for your response. You gulp back your nerves and lift your eyes to his, hoping some of your ire and defiance will shine through. “I’m putting something into the system,” you reply, your voice holding steady as you re-straighten your spine. 

“Can see that,” he counters, head tilting, dark hair falling to one side of his soft jawline. “Why are you doing it up here? This is the College of Science’s dean’s office. Most people don’t come up here to adjust their university login. So let me ask you again, whatcha’ doing, Ms. (L/N)?”

“Filing a complaint,” you snap, fingers curling into tight fists, shoulders rising and fall with your quickening breaths. That’s right, asshole, and it’s a complaint about you. How do you like that? Not much you can do about… about it now…. oh, shit. Fuck.  

You haven’t hit the enter key. 

The fucking e-document is just sitting there, unattended and completely vulnerable. He might not have seen that you haven’t sent it through and if you could just step a few feet to the right, then you can slip one finger against the keypad and hit that all important “enter.” 

You look up at him again, praying he won’t notice you scooting your shoes backwards, doing your best to keep him wholly focused on your face. “What did you expect?” you taunt, eyes narrowed, arms wrapping around your back, fingers unconsciously stretching out, feeling for the lift of the keyboard. “You’ve been shit. Midterms are in a week and half of the class says you’re not showing up for their sessions. Don’t look so shocked. This can’t possibly be your first run in with something like this? No wonder you go by that silly name, Dabi. What’s the matter? Upset that I know your actual name now?”

As you ramble on, his face has dropped all pretense of blank civility and now his entire body is hunching forward, shoulders curving, hands pulling free of his pockets and coiling outward, reaching, palms tilted upward. 

“So much fucking talk (Y/N). Looks to me like you forgot that last step. Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing,” he begins, a wicked grin twisting across his lips, not quite reaching the glare of his narrowed eyes. “Ah, babe. Why you gotta be this way? Make you a deal, huh? Walk away now and I’ll forget the whole thing. No repercussions, no questions asked. Never even saw you up here, scout’s honor.” 

The keyboard is close; you can hear the hum of the monitor, buzzing as it holds the screen with your complaint against Touya Todoroki steady, waiting for your inspection, for that final command. Dabi is close, his looming form heavy against your wide eyes, but it’s now or never. You’ve got to turn around, got to let the predatory lumber of your ill-appointed TA slip from your mind, you have to do this. It doesn’t matter what kinda promises he’ll make to you. That changes nothing, absolutely nothing. 

Now! Do it now!

You whirl around, hands shaking as they search for the right keystrokes, the right submission link. It feels like minutes have passed, not seconds. Even though you’ve pressed all the buttons and heard the computer chime, a sent message alert into the sudden, reverberating silence, you can’t take your eyes off the burning gleam of the screen. Not until that thank you pops up. 

He’s still behind you. You can hear his boots as they click across the wood. His movements have slowed, but he’s still advancing. It’s too late for you Dabi, you think, watching as the submission page fades to a pleasing orange, the school mascot waving a large “Thanks!” as it dances, close to the bottom of the page. You did it! There’s nothing he can do. Nothing that–

His powerful arm drapes across your stiffened shoulders, his wrist popped beside your face, fingers dangling lazily into the open air. “Ahhh,” he sighs, leaning over you, resting his head beside yours. You half turn your face to see him, aghast that he’s so close again, that he’s touching you, holding you in place with his weight. His muscled side presses against your back, leaning heavily into you as he gives you a rakish smirk. “Well, looks like we get to do this the hard way.”

“What the fuck? The hard way? What does–hey! HEY!” He’s stepped away from you, and that arm that was braced over your shoulders shifts to the back of your neck, ramming your face down into the keyboard, mashing out a random string of commands. Your nose stings from the impact and your eyes wince shut, protecting themselves from the threat of the black letters. 

“Warned you about sending that,” he replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. He’s stroking a hand down your head, tangling his long fingers in your hair, pulling at the strands until you’re groaning in pain. “Now we have to do this another way. Gotta even the score, don’t we? Need to make sure you’ve got some kinda blemish on your record, too! I know that secretary filled you in on my upcoming tenure. No way she didn’t. She’s a fucking leaky faucet and I know you had to ask her about my name to fill out that complaint. No, no. We gotta fix this, babe.”

His voice has dropped into a terrifying lower octave, his words sharp, barbed, lancing into your mind like a showering of sticks and stones. He fucking sounds like he’s seconds away from losing his goddamn mind. The hand that’s wrapped around your hair is tugging against you in earnest, jerking your neck away from the threat of the keyboard, forcing you to look up at his leering face. The pupils of his eyes are blown, the black eating away at the shine of the blue until there’s almost nothing left. His teeth are bared in a grimace and his cheeks are pinched, making the silver of his piercings stand out against his flushed skin.

You do your best to gasp out another set of questions, but he’s yanking you back, holding you against his broad chest and wrapping those ink sleeved arms around you. They coil over your stomach and across your breasts, digging into the globes and heaving them under his forearms. His lips are tracing over your arched neck, teeth nipping against your bared pulse. 

“You always smell so good, babe. What are you wearing? Hmm?”

“W-what… get off me! You sick fuck! Why are you… ow… damn,” you whimper as he sucks a bruise into your skin, gnawing and pulling until you’re writhing in his arms. You keep attempting to slip away, to shift your feet forward, but that mouth of his won’t let up. Each time you shake yourself free from those quick pants and hums he’s dashing across your neckline, he moves to another spot, or his hands cup and squeeze at your heaving chest and shivering waist, distracting you. 

“Mmm, this is unexpected. Looks like you just might enjoy what’s about to happen,” Dabi teases, licking a wet line under your jaw. “Come on, let’s go somewhere a little more private, shall we?”

You exhale a shuddering breath and remain perfectly still, hoping your feigned submission will lull him. Thankfully, it works. He chuckles and spits something out about being a ‘good girl,’ but when he moves back, his arms unlacing from you, you stumble forward, one heel raised, cracking down over his booted feet with as much force as you can muster. 

Dabi hisses out a string of low curses, his body coiling over itself protectively. You do your best to squirm out of his grasp, but one of his broad hands reaches out for you, snatching at your leg and forcing you back to him. The sudden shift jolts you off your feet and you tumble to the wood, your palms skinning against the uneven surface. 

“Stop it!” you shout, kicking your feet, trying to dislodge his iron grip. 

“Kick me again and I’ll knock you out,” Dabi threatens, lowering himself to your level and jerking you underneath him, trapping you, bracing his knees on either side of your hips. 

“Fuck you,” you screech out, bucking upwards, trying to dislodge his weight.

“That’s the idea,” he croons, long fingers curling under your clenched chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you and stop acting like you don’t want me. You were practically salivating for me this afternoon. I bet you’re already wet. Let’s find out, hmmm?”

His other hand drifts to the clasp of your jeans, flicking past the barrier of your button and dipping his hand into your pants. His touch lingers around the elastic band of your panties, yanking and teasing at the seam as he works your zipper down. Unconsciously, your traitorous hips roll under him and he gives you a sharp grin, blue eyes blazing. “There you go, babe, just relax. Don’t worry, I’ll make it good for you,” he whispers, his voice catching as his touch slips downward, tapping across your curls and snagging against your slippery folds. “Maybe… ahhh… look at that,” he moans, a satisfied grin lifting those tempting lips of his. 

His middle finger brushes between your quivering flesh, gathering droplets of your arousal onto his finger pad. You choke back a staggered breath and your head flops weightlessly against the floor as you arch pitifully into his hand. One of his nails digs into your clit and faint stars pulse over your eyes. “S-stop it,” you stutter, unable to control the shiver that echoes up your spine.

“Tch,” Dabi scorns, adding the pressure of another finger. “Figures,” he continues, his mouth dropping into a pleased smile as you writhe under him. “I thought you liked being difficult. You’re so fucking cute when you’re mad, you know? So what happened to all that vigor, (Y/N)? Not gonna struggle anymore? I’m disappointed, I was hoping you’d keep it up.”

“You’re disgusting,” you snap, your fingers lifting from your side, grabbing the loose collar of his shirt and jerking him to your waiting lips. You can feel the lift of his grin, but he allows the caress, sharp nose digging into your upper cheek. This is wrong. So fucking wrong. But, if you have to endure it, it’s only fair you get a little bit of enjoyment out of this sick power play, so you nip at his lower lip, giving him soft presses and sharper pulls. Dabi, for all of his earlier barbs of prowess, is a bit taken aback by your sudden interest, his hands cupping at the back of your head, urging you on each time you maneuver away from his open-mouthed kisses. 

“You want to fuck me here? Right in front of the elevator?” you question breathlessly, fingers coiling into his dark hair, carding through the rough strands until he’s groaning above you. 

“Nah,” he pants, pulling away from your lips and leaning back. His fingers are still working their way against you, but it’s not enough friction and you wriggle under him, slipping him from your clit. “The fuck are you doing, babe? You gonna try and make a break for it again?” he laughs, pulling his hand from your pants and licking at the faint sweetness that you’ve left for him. 

“Why bother?” you reply, twisting your neck, your head dragging over the grains of the flooring. “You’re just going to catch me. I don’t know my way around this part of the building, so even if I got away, you’d only find me and I don’t really like being tossed around. Not good for me, you know? Why do you care? I thought you said you were gonna fuck me?”

“Oh, I am,” he assures you, one hand snagging under your chin, forcing your eyes to lock onto his. “Just wanted to know what changed.”

“Nothing,” you barb, tugging your chin free and fixing him with a pointed stare. “This whole thing means nothing. I’ve got a boyfriend, and he’s buying me dinner tonight, so, just get through this and I’m free to go, right?”

“A boyfriend,” Dabi muses, knees tightening around your hips. “Should we call him? I’d hate to think how he’d feel about all this. Knowing that his girl is letting her TA take advantage of her this way.” 

“Hmph,” you snort, arms bracing under you, pushing yourself upward, doing your utmost to level this shitty playing field he’s laid out for you. “Like you give a shit.”

“You’re right,” he affirms, hands snatching under your arms and pulling you out from under him. “I couldn’t care less.”

His office is small. 

You keep a sharp eye on the door, watching to see if he locks it. Fingers crossed, he’ll get himself off and that’ll be the end of this. But that tone he’d shifted into, when he’d told you that you’d need to fix this, to erase the complaint, to walk it back, that made your spine tingle and skin prickle. There’s something else, something he’s not telling you, he’s a smart guy, there’s no way it’s this simple. He’s paced behind his desk, fiddling with something in one drawer, his eyes lifting to observe you each time you shift on the couch he’d gestured for you to sit on.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice a dull monotone. You don’t care, you remind yourself, hands wrapping around your stomach. No matter how good he looks, or how skilled his fingers are, you don’t care (Y/N) and it’s pathetic that you have to keep reminding yourself of that.

“Just making sure everything is ready,” he answers, eyes flicking over you. “Take off your pants and shirt, but leave your bra and panties on.”

“Huh?” you question, shoulders tensing as you glare up at him. “Why?”

“Does it matter?” he responds, closing his desk drawer and stepping back to you, kicking his boots and socks off as he gets closer.

“I-I guess not, but I don’t understand why you–”

“Don’t worry, I’ll explain it all when I’m finished,” he reassures you, kneeling on the floor and propping an elbow against his tattered couch. “You can make a show of taking your clothes off, I won’t mind.” 

“You’re revolting,” you snarl, curling your fingers over the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric up. 

“Mmm,” Dabi agrees, one palm rising to run over your exposed skin. “Whatever you say.” 

“Ugh,” you grunt, popping your hips up and yanking your jeans down your long legs, not wanting to give him too much of a viewing as you pull them along your calves and onto the floor.

“Cute,” he murmurs, one finger racing along the lace of your panties, curving around your hip and onto the soft skin of your ass. “Oooh, did you wear these just for me?” he asks, cupping a broad hand under your soft skin and tugging it into his palm. “Love a girl in a thong,” he murmurs, fingers pressing and lifting into the plush flesh.

“Stop it,” you groan, lifting your hips up, depriving him of his lecherous grip. “I’d never do anything for you.” 

“Always such a stuck up little thing, let’s see if I can’t change your mind,” Dabi laughs, pushing you back and splaying you against the haggard cushions. His long fingers hook under the band of your thong and steadily work it over the curve of your hips and down the line of your calves. Instinctually, you clamp your thighs together, rubbing against the ache that’s budding between your clenched legs. 

“Come on,” Dabi encourages you, slapping his hand against your round thigh, smoothing his palm over the redness that he’s left behind. “Open up babe, let me see you.” 

“Don’t, ah—” you bite out, leaning away from his ravenous gaze and bracing yourself on your elbows as Dabi leers over the sight you’ve been forced to open for him. He glances up at you for a single moment, the blue of his eyes ensnaring your attention and leaving you gaping against the cushions. Seconds later, he’s diving between your spread thighs, his curious tongue lapping over the exposed folds of your cunt.

He slows his licks as he passes by your clit, pausing against the bud before wrapping his lips around the nub, sucking a swift rhythm over you. Your feet rise from the floor to brace against his broad shoulders and you coil your hips upward, urging him on, your head falling into the swath of pillows that rest under your neck. Tense fingers wrench into the cushions and you give a soft gasp, your lips stumbling over his name.

“What was that?” Dabi asks, lifting his head from your curls, lips wet with your slick, his blue eyes watching the contours of your face.

“Fuck you. I-I know… I know you heard me… D-Dabi,” you moan, hissing when he brings a digit against the quivering ring of your entrance. 

“Dabi, huh?” he ponders, letting the edge of his fingernail tease over you. “Don’t know if I like that. I think I’d much rather hear you screaming out my name, my real name.” 

“What?” you question, popping your head up and giving him a blank stare.

“You remember,” he grins, poking out his tongue and dragging it over you, smiling as you buck under his hands. “Come on,” he taunts, sucking at your clit again. “I know you know it. Go on, say it for me.”

“Wha-what’s wrong with Dabi?” you smart, bracing your feet against the couch and forcing him to insert his wavering finger, digging it forward until it hits the second knuckle. 

“Nothing, I just wanna’ hear how the other name sounds. I want to know what it’s like when you’re choking on it, barely able to gasp it out cus’ I’m making you feel so good. Come on, (Y/N), indulge me, huh?” 

“Fine,” you huff, legs trembling as he shoves another finger into you, curling them upward, poking and prodding until you’re squirming. “Keep going. Make me cum all over your mouth, Touya.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Dabi hisses, his teeth catching over your clit. “That sounds real nice, baby.”

His lips seal over you again and he drags another finger into you, stretching you until you feel you’re close to bursting. It’s a low ache he’s working up, but you love the burn. It’s not like your boyfriend can’t do this, but you’ve never worked up the courage to ask. How do you even go about that? Hey, I want you to pin me down and… no. That doesn’t matter, you remind yourself; fingers sinking into Dabi’s black hair, pulling him closer. You just need to get him off and get the hell outta’ here. Don’t think about it. Just relax and get this over with. 

“You need more, don’t you?” Dabi questions, tilting his head and cracking one cerulean eye open, watching as you writhe and cant under his skillful hands. 

“I-I just need…” your voice fails you as he resumes that suction, tugging your engorged clit between his sharp teeth and giving you a few rapid fire nips. “Al-almost, just… keep… oh fuck…” you sigh, thighs tensing around his dark head. His fingers speed up that sinful drag and he wriggles them forward with each push, tapping and stroking over the spongy patch of nerves within your cunt. 

Then, right when you’re breaths away from a mind blowing release, he yanks his fingers from your sopping pussy, laughing as you pant and whine for him. “Ahhh, come on babe,” he sneers. “Why would I reward you when you’ve been such a fucking pain?” 

You openly gape at him, your eyes blinking back dots of frustration and distant flashes of lingering starlight arousal. “What the fuck,” you pant, shifting away from his slicked lips and crossing your legs. “Wh-what what was that for?”

Dabi pushes himself onto his haunches, licking the last traces of you off of his fingers before digging his hand into his jean pocket. He returns with a small remote and waggles it in front of your aghast expression. “Got all I needed,” he informs you, flicking it toward a bookcase. You swiftly whip your head to the shelves and spy the tiny camcorder resting above the topmost set of books. 

“You fucking ASS,” you screech, hands reaching for the dangling remote, not caring that your sopping pussy and half naked breasts are on full display. Dabi hovers the remote above the two of you, cracking that all too familiar grin over his thin lips.

“So, about that complaint,” he taunts, scoffing at your desperation, leaning on his heels to watch you scramble up from the frayed pillows of his couch. 

“Y-you, why… I… give me that! You can’t record me without my permission!”

“Awe, babe,” Dabi barks, his laugh echoing around the small space. “Too bad for you, huh? I don’t need two party consent.”

“That’s for phone calls,” you bite out, finally snagging his wrist, yanking him toward you. 

“Who said the video was on?” 

“You fucking jackass! That’s why you wanted me to say your name!”

“Calm down, I won’t release it if you walk back the complaint,” Dabi counters, letting you pull him closer, his lips teasingly reaching for yours. You dodge his touch and fix him with a pointed glower, nose wrinkling and brow furrowing. 

“This sounds like a well oiled routine,” you accuse, dropping your hold on him and crossing your arms over your exposed stomach. 

“Tch, you jealous?” Dabi sneers, cupping both of his hands under your bent elbows, forcing you to lean into his hold. You shake your head at his accusation and grit your teeth, tilting your face away from his seeking touch. 

“What are you going to do about this part? Where I’m yelling about what a son of a bitch you are?”

“Edit it out,” Dabi informs you, lips latching onto the hollow of your throat, teeth worrying your tender skin between their grasp. “Again, if you walk back the accusation, all of this goes away.”

“What if…” you pause, biting your lower lip and shrugging Dabi off of you. He leans away, bright eyes studying your face, pausing at the dip of your lips, following the pink indentations that your teeth leave behind. “What if I wanna’ fuck you?”

“Oh?” Dabi hums, nose flaring, making those three tiny piercings gleam under the low light of the moon that’s streaming through his window. “Now you wanna’ fuck me? You sure about that? Not that I blame you, I’m pretty good, pretty big, too.”

“Ugh, don’t say shit like that,” you reply, lifting a shaking hand to his neck, tracing your fingertips over the indentations of his tattoos.

“Hmm,” he groans, already leaning into your touch, his skin prickling under the gentle strokes of your fingers. “One condition. I get to record it. This time with the video on.”

“Fine,” you confirm, coiling your hands into his inky hair. “Never know, you might want it for later.”

“For what?” Dabi asks, yanking himself away from your intoxicating strokes to jerk his white shirt over his head. You shake your head at his question, not wanting to think about the ramifications of this situation, distracting yourself with the new patterns and whorls of dark ink that are bared to you. He twists back to the camcorder, hitting a few buttons before tossing his remote across the room, the plastic clattering over the wood.

You can just make out the outline of wisps of blue flames beside his ribs when he kicks his pants and boxers down, finally lowering the curtain on the dip of his hipbones, displaying his straining length to your ravenous gaze. He’s covered in piercings. A silver Prince Albert is gleaming at his tip, catching the drips and bubbles of pre-cum that are hovering against his slit. His cock curls proudly toward his stomach when he releases it from the thin protection of his boxers and you catch sight of the Jacob’s ladder that climbs up his impressive girth. Unconsciously, you gulp in a swift breath and shake your head, not wanting to show him your wavering uncertainty. 

He’ll undoubtedly be the biggest cock you’ve ever taken, and you’re not sure that he’s stretched you out properly. He’d paused too soon and you can still feel the shuddering echoes of your faint brush with release travel up your spine as you gape at him. It’s not enough… it’s not…

“What?” Dabi questions, one black brow arched. “Worried I’m too big for you?”

You’re about to respond when he shoves you down and maneuvers you sideways, stretching you along the cushions, his hand a steady pressure against your windpipe, choking out any reservations that threaten to escape your lips. He’s on top of you seconds later, the sheer weight of him pinning you under him, and you let out a whine when he spreads your legs, popping the brittle muscles of your hips in his rush. 

“I’ll make you like it,” he promises, looming over you, his lips tracing up your neck as his hands dig under your back, unfastening your bra and stripping you of your final defense. “You’ve got a nice rack, babe,” Dabi praises, lowering himself, ghosting over your peaked nipples, tongue lapping out to dip over the puffy areola. 

“Stop saying shit like that, I might think you mean it,” you snarl, throat catching on your gasps of strained pleasure. He sucks one stiffened peak between his lips and suckles, hard. The pressure makes your back bow off the cushions, fingers reaching for him, clawing and scratching your way down the muscled plains of his back. 

“Mmm,” Dabi groans, popping his lips free from the distraction of your nipples. “Do that again, but put some effort behind it.” 

Well, why let him down now? You dig your nails into him, yanking until you feel his skin part under you, splitting from the drag of your touch. “Fuck, yes,” he grunts, his hips jerking into you, blindly seeking your entrance. “I’m gonna fuck you,” Dabi warns, teeth biting the hollow of your neck. “I’m gonna fuck you until all you can say is my name.” 

He blindly reaches for your hips, two fingers searching for your cunt. Once he finds it, he grasps the swollen length of his cock, jerking himself a few times, splashing his hot pre-cum against your inner thighs. There’s no warning, no call for preparation, or a quick kiss, instead there’s just the heady press of his hips and the weight of his length as it splits you in two. Your neck arches off of the cushions and your hips fall away, shying from the keening sting that he’s thrusting into you. A low hiss slips from your lips and your toes curl, legs unconsciously wrapping around his thin waist, heels digging into the soft dip of his back. 

“F-fuck,” Dabi chokes out, hands bracing themselves over the swell of your hips. “You’re fucking tight, babe. Goddamn it.”

“Dabi,” you moan, curling upwards, praying he’ll give you a few more seconds, positive you’ll shake yourself to bits if he tries to move now. Your hand finally lifts from his back and makes its way toward the crest of your thighs, desperate to tweak and roll your pulsing clit. Once you’re inches away, one of Dabi’s hands unlatches from your waist and snatches your seeking fingers away. “Don’t you dare,” he warns, lips rising to suck against the lines of your neck. “Only if I tell you,” he continues, warm tongue dipping and licking over your ear. “Understand?”

You nod, still reeling from the steady stretch of his cock as he tugs it out of your sopping cunt. It pricks and bites and your heels do their best to restrict his movements, pinning themselves to his lower back and grinding down. He ignores your hints and starts a steady push and pull within you, the rungs of his piercings catching on the edge of your leaking pussy. Each thrust snags against a piece of you that sends a scattering of sparks and stars over your vision and you coil yourself forward every time he yanks back, anticipating that ignition, that ache, as he braces himself to slip into you again. 

“How the fuck are you still so tight?” he complains, hands jerking your chin upward, demanding that you kiss him. The bittersweet sting of pain is still too close for you to get into his caress, so he soon gives up, finally settling the pad of his calloused thumb over your clit. “Is this what you need?” he asks, hips lancing into yours, picking up the pace of his ruts. You nod as your teeth chatter, a thin slip of drool escaping your parted lips. Dabi grins at your overwrought expression and his tongue laps at the traces of saliva, nose pressing into your skin, his hisses of exhaled air hot against your cheek. 

“You’re getting real tight (Y/N). Wanna cum? You wanna’ cum on my dick?” he asks, his voice shaking with effort, trying to ignore the insistent envelopment of your slick cunt. “Hey, come on, answer me!”

His deep pitch of exasperation snaps you out of your stupor and you fix your hazy attention on him, closing your swollen lips and giving him a cruel smile. “I don’t think you’ve done enough,” you taunt, a laugh bubbling from your throat. “Looks like you’re gonna cum first. Turns out you’re not as impressive as you think, huh, Touya?”

He’d usually ignore you, keep pressing and teasing until you’re putty in his hands, but it feels too good. It’s too much. Your fucking cunt feels like heaven and he can’t help himself, thrusting and pounding into you like he’s fucking fifteen again, all hormones and no finesse. There’s nothing he can do to stop himself, it’s too good, it’s just too fucking good.

With a half-formed groan he spills into you, his cock pulsing and swelling, hands bracing themselves against the swell of your hips, lifting you to him until those dots leave his vision. “Fuck. Fuck, that was… you were… God. That felt so fucking good.” 

You sprawl under him, your eyes languidly meeting his as you crack a sly grin. “Ahhh, Touya, like I said, you were so close. Too bad. Thought you’d last a little longer. Haha! Maybe next time, hmmm?”

Tags: @spicy-skull​, @xwildskullx​, @evesmores​

notes: editing always takes me so long :((((

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Alone Together

Summary: After an awful breakup you were expecting to spend Christmas alone. You and Steve end up spending it together.

Pairings: tattoo artist!Steve Rogers x Sam Wilson sister!reader. Abusive ex boyfriend!Brock Rumlow x reader

Warning: mentions of abusive relationship, smut, swearing, daddy kink, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex

Tagging: @titty-teetee @blackmissfrizzle @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @harrysthiccthighss @mariahthelioness29 @whiskey-cokenfanfic @olyvoyl @hqneyyincc @queenoftheworldisdead @iam-laiya @donutloverxo @slytherinandoutasgard @zaddychris @brattycherubwrites @love-more122

(A/N: yay I made it! Merry Christmas guys! Reblog always 💜 ✌🏾)

——————————————————————————

Okay yeah so it was stupid. You should have known better when you’d done it. Well, you did you just... well you don’t really know what you were thinking.

Red flags just look like flags when you’re wearing rose colored glasses, yeah fuck off you stole that from Bojack. So when you were with your ex and doing all this dumb just you thought would make him happy it ended up being kind of awful in the end.

When they finally came off you noticed the things you dealt with. Scared to piss him off so you started treating okay times like they were really good. All the stupid things he had you do to prove yourself.

You were paying for this one right now. Right in another parlor. Covering up that mistake with something you actually liked. Not that most people could see it because it was on your underboob. Said he wanted it to be this hidden thing all for him that no one else was allowed to see.

The first time he asked you’d laughed and said no thinking it was a joke. The second time you it happened you tried to be a little more firm. Except that just meant you couldn’t prove your love for him. That you were devoted. That he’d get a tattoo for you on his arm that he never had time to get for some reason.

It was so fucking dumb you know. The cursive Brock tattooed right under your boob. You could see it every time you took your shirt off and it really bothered you. It always had, but you were trying to convince yourself that you loved him before. Now you looked at it and saw the new of a person you wished you’d never even met.

Steve was your older brother’s best friend. He ran this super popular tattoo shop. They’d met in the military and the friendship just stuck. It’s kind of why you ended up moving to New York. You were kind of the outcast of the family, but Sam never treated you any different. You were his baby sister.

So after a few weeks you asked him if he could cover it up. Except his only available day was Christmas Eve. You didn’t go home anyway and Sam was going to meet his girlfriend’s parents this year. Not that you weren’t invited, but you just wanted this thing covered up. Maybe that would make you forget.

You winced as the needle dug into your skin. Not like it wasn’t worth the pain. “Hey, relax, okay,” he said, softly rubbing your arm. He’d been so much help since the breakup. It was funny. Brock hated him. Was always ranting about what an asshole he is. You could tell he didn’t like your brother either. You really didn’t know what but you knew it was something over their friend Bucky or whatever.

Yeah it was a whole thing. Not that you really knew the details.

Normally you’d spend the holidays with his family. Though a little uncomfortable it was nice being with him. So this was your first year in three that you were alone. Hanging with Steve was nice.

“I’m fine,” you were trying to keep a brave face.

He was almost done. Just had to finish up the shading. Honestly you’d been expecting him being that close to you to feel weird, but it was actually nice. It’d just be nice if you didn’t date another tattoo artist.

Yeah Brock also tattooed. He’d met Steve because they’d worked at the same shop once. You remember how Brock was seething when he found out that Steve had opened his own.

You wish you could go back in time and tell Leila to never go into that damn shop. To never ask you to go with her because she was nervous for her first tattoo. Somehow it ended up with Brock promising you a discount if you let him tattoo you if you gave him your number. Being a cliche you got a butterfly on your shoulder.

Somehow it didn’t bother you as much. Maybe because it didn’t look like anything resembling him.

“You sure? We can take a break,” he offered.

You shook your head. “No. I’m okay.” You chuckled with a smile.

He chuckled before clicking his tongue. “Alright. Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“How’s your mom’s trip?” You asked. His mother had decided to vacation to Hawaii with his step-dad. Which is also why he was here. Not that he couldn’t have went with Nat and Bucky to his parent’s house. Except last time he’d done that, he ended up having to sleep next to Bucky’s incredibly touchy aunt. He was better off spending it alone.

“She’s great. Talked to her this morning.” He chuckled, “apparently she’s bringing me back a Hawaiian shirt.”

“You could pull it off.” You replied trying not to laugh too much.

“You think so?” He asked.

“Yeah just keep it unbuttoned and don’t wear a shirt under.”

He stopped to laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

“I dunno. Just doing a service for the girls,” you said. “Don’t act like you don’t know that you’re cute.”

He licked his lips, narrowing his eyes. “Why Miss. Wilson, you’re not flirting with me are you?”

You laughed and shook your head. “No. Just... stop. You know you’re hot.”

His jaw dropped as he grin. “Now you think I’m hot?”

You sighed dramatically. “Look, Steve. I’m just joking.”

He went back to work with this kind of goofy look on his face. You couldn’t deny it. Steve is hot. Anyone with eyes could see that. Your eyes traced along his tattooed forearms. The sleeves of his flannel pushed up to elbows. Until you were distracted by his broad shoulders.

Your mind finally started to relax. Kind of enjoying the buzzing of the gun. You kind of missed that sound you loved going to the shop with a Brock while he worked.

Your only days off were weekends and since he usually had shit to do on those days, you’d be there while he worked. Sometimes even helping out when their secretary was out.

“And, done,” he said taking a deep breath and smiling down at his work before turning off the machine. “How you feelin?’” He grabbed your hand to help you to your feet.

“Well, a little sore, but good.”

You turned to look at it. Smiling at the flowers that were there now. “It’s beautiful,” you said, looking at Steve before throwing your arms around his neck. “Thank you so much.”

“Hey,” he pulled away to rub your arms, “I got you.”

He was so close, eyes trained on your lips. So you started wondering maybe this was why Brock hated Steve. Saw how magnetic he was that he could definitely pull you in.

That couldn’t have been it, though. Brock never saw you with him alone. His dislike went much deeper than you. Today had kind of added insult to injury. Not only did you cover up that thing, but he was the one to do it. It’d be a slap in the face.

Maybe that’s why you did it. Except you’d always liked Steve’s work. You’d seen so many pieces he did or sketches he made and had wanted him to work on you for the longest. Maybe next time it would be something you didn’t need to cover up.

Your phone went off and you groaned softly pulling away. “Hey, Sam,” you greeted your brother. Of course it had to be him of all people.

Looking back over at his best friend who was cleaning up the station now. It was probably a good thing because your heart had started to thump in your chest. You didn’t need that.

You raised your shirt up so you could see it finally. “Just calling to check up on you. Steve’s lazy ass taking a break? I don’t hear buzzing in the back.”

“We just finished actually.” You laughed.

“How’d it come out?”

“Good,” you answered. “Tell Maya I said hi.”

You finished talking to Sam before finally hanging up. When you finally looked at your new tattoo, a smile grew on your face. It looked so much better than before. “Like it?” Steve asked.

“I love it,” you replied. You grabbed your bag so you could pay him.

“Um, excuse me, Miss,” he said. “Your money is no good here.”

“What? I’m not going to have you do all this work and not pay you, Stevie.”

He sighed. “Think of it as a Christmas present.”

You rolled your eyes still taking your money out. “I can’t-“

“I’m not taking it,” he pressed.

“Fine at least let me give you a tip.”

“I’m not taking that either.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes. For such a nice boy he was always so stubborn. “Fine. Then... dinner. I’ll make dinner. If we’re spending Christmas alone then it might be fun to spend it together.”

He smiled softly. “Yeah... that sounds nice.”

“Great.” You looked into his eyes again. They were like the prettiest blue ever. Especially with those little specks of green.

After a trip to the store, he escorted you back to the apartment you shared with your brother. You could have moved out, but you were kind of afraid to live alone. That’s why Sam had been a little surprised that you’d declined the invitation to go with him. It was nice to have Steve there.

You’d decorated the apartment even though you hadn’t planned to do anything. You still wanted to be a little festive. Maybe it would pull you into a better mood. It worked a little.

You quickly started on dinner. Steve helped by cutting up vegetables. He’d taken off his sweater letting his incredibly muscular tattooed arms taunt you. Okay so yeah you had a little bit of a crush on him. Like a lot of other women, you just liked to look.

“Thanks for dinner,” Steve said, taking a sip of his wine. “I don’t get home cooked meals a lot.”

“Can’t cook?” You asked with a smirk.

“Yeah I’m pretty hopeless at it.” He shrugged.

“So do you want to watch Christmas movies after this?” You asked.

He laughed. “Yeah that’d be nice.”

The night was going by kind of quick as you settled down to watch A Christmas Story. You were a little tipsy honestly, but you and Steve were sharing a fluffy blanket. Which meant he was close.

You’d carefully showered so you didn’t get your tattoo wet and changed into a sweater shirt and s pair of matching shorts. Getting all bundled up so you could curl up beside him. “You look so warm.” He chuckled as he got a little closer.

“Do you need an extra blanket?” You asked.

“No I’m okay,” he replied.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked because the thought had crossed your mind again. This time you’d finally worked up the nerve to ask.

“Why don’t you and Brock like each other?” You asked.

He sighed. “You’re not the first person I’ve had to save from him. He and Bucky used to be close and I noticed him kind of spiraling. Rumlow was pumping him full of all of these drugs and I dunno I didn’t want to lose my friend.”

Your stomach started to turn. This was the first time you’d ever heard of any of this. “Why didn’t any of you tell me?”

“I wanted to, but Sam said we needed to let you make your own mistakes. To not push you away. There were so many times that I thought about... look I just know that I’m never letting him hurt you again. Okay?”

You nodded, biting your lip. This glazed over look in your eyes. Steve noticed and pulled you closer pretty much placing you in his lap.

“Hey, it’s okay, Honey.” He rubbed your back. Trying to at least comfort you a little.

“No I’m fine,” you replied leaning into him. The soft fabric of his jeans rubbed against your bare legs. It was nice to have him comfort you like this. “You know I think the worst thing to me is that and I’m sorry if this is too much information, but he’d use Sam against me. Say that if I didn’t do what he wanted he’d tell Sam about the things we did in bed.”

Steve sighed. “You know he wouldn’t have cared.”

“I know, but it still felt embarrassing. He knew how secretive I was about it. None of my friends even know the kind of things I’m into.” You took a deep breath, trying to relax because you felt way more tense than you wanted to.

He chuckled. Trying to lighten the mood. “I get it. I used to be the same way until my last girlfriend put it all out there when we broke up.”

You laughed. “Oh yeah I remember that.”

“Yeah. She was something else.” He tossed his head back as he laughed. “One night she came to the shop, talking about how she’d let me tie her up one more time.”

“Brock used to say stuff like ‘come on, Babygirl, do what Daddy says or else I’ll tell your brother what you’re up to.’ It used to grate on my nerves.”

“God. What a fucking asshole,” he said, hoping you didn’t notice when he felt himself get suddenly hard at hearing you say that.

“Yeah, but I’m so glad this thing is covered.”

“Yeah. Glad I could help,” he said with smile. “Shit do you mind actually if I take a picture of it? For Instagram.”

You nodded. “Yeah that’s fine.”

He took his phone out of his pocket while you laid down across his lap, rolling your sweatshirt up so that it was exposed. “Perfect,” he said as he snapped the picture the flash making you close your eyes all tight, making you move your hand so you could rub your eye.

Making your entire breast become exposed. “Shit,” you said, pushing it back down as you sat back up. Your eyes connected to his again and that’s when he kissed you.

You didn’t hesitate to do it back. Your mouth moving against his ever so softly. Like the two of you were afraid to really do what you want, but also didn’t want to pull away. Until he finally started to deepen it.

You stroked his beard as he held onto you tightly. You came to straddle his lap as he cupped your ass. He started to lay you back.

Your phone interrupted you, making you jump away. You scrambled to pick it up. “Hello?”

“Hey. Just checking on you,” Sam’s voice came through.

“Oh. I’m fine, Sam.” You took looked over at Steve who closed his eyes and stood up.

“Is Steve with you?”

“Yeah he walked me home,” you said. “Actually I have to go I’m going to shower.”

“Okay. Text me before bed.”

“Okay.”

Steve was gathering up his things to leave by the time you got off your phone. You watched him move around. He shrugged his coat on. “I’m just gonna head out.”

“Yeah...” you pursed your lips.

He licked his lips. “I, um, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me... I-“

“No. It’s okay,” you replied taking a deep breath. “I’ll walk you out.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

You watched as he walked away heading towards the elevator. You still couldn’t believe that happened. Lips tingling from the way he kissed you. Apart of you was cursing Sam from ruining your moment.

Another part of you was kind of happy that he did because as much as you hated it, Brock still had this hold over you. It wasn’t that you felt guilty. It was more like you were afraid of what would happen if he found out.

God, you wish he didn’t have this hold on you. You were starting to close the door when Steve came back. This time he didn’t stop himself as he kissed you. Or picked you up, kicking the door shut behind him. Didn’t stop himself as he carried you to your room.

He laid you down on your bed, getting on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Trying to be as close to him as possible. Fuck he felt so good on top of you.

Scratching at his muscular shoulders. He pulled your top off first. Exposing your tits. His mouth went to them as he tried to avoid your tattoo. He swirled his tongue around your nipple.

You whimpered, biting your lip as you looked down at him. He’d switched to the other one to give it the same treatment. “So fucking beautiful.” He started kissing down your body so he could take off your shorts and panties. He kissed along your thighs, still looking into your eyes as he parted them.

Before he could put his mouth on your pussy, he went back up. Kissing you again. “Is this okay?” He asked resting his forehead to yours.

You nodded, reaching out so you could start undoing the buttons of his flannel. He helped you, pressing his lips to yours again. This time he put his tongue in your mouth.

Kissing him was different than Brock. Steve’s lips seemed to mold with yours better. There was this feeling in the pit of your stomach that felt like it was about to burst, but like you wanted it to. You really shouldn’t be comparing them, but Steve was making you feel so good and you were kicking yourself from having missed out on this as you wasted your time.

He pushed his shirt off his body then undid his pants. Sliding them down his legs along with his underwear. He got back on top for you, kissing your neck. Leaving little nibbles and sucking on your skin like he knew your body already. “Daddy,” you cried out, then sat up when you realized what you said opening your mouth to apologize.

“Oh yeah, Baby. You want me to be your daddy?” He asked, going back between your legs. “Want to be a dirty girl for me only?”

You nodded suddenly feeling drunk off of his words. Never did you think in a million years that Steve would be talking to you like this. He was getting you so wet just from that. He started licking your clit first.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he feasted on you. Pussy juices making a mess on his beard. “Yes,” you gasped out as he started to finger you at the same time.

That same bursting feeling in your stomach was getting intense. You cried out for him as you felt yourself reach your peek. You grabbed his hair, grinding your pussy against his face.

You took a deep breath as you tried to sit up, but he put a hand on your stomach to hold you still. “I’m not done.” He growled. “Hold still while Daddy makes you cum, Honey.”

You nodded bracing yourself as he went back to eating you out. It didn’t take long for him to bring you to another orgasm or another one after that. When he was done he kissed you, making you taste your juices on him.

As you made out again he went back to rubbing your cunt. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he said. “Gonna make you cum over and over again. Gonna take care of you.”

“Oh god yes,” you whimpered.

“Fuck I don’t have any condom,” he said, as he’d started to line himself up with your entrance.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m on birth control.”

He licked his lips. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I want you so bad, Daddy.”

He grinned as he kissed you softly. “I want to know your safe word first, Honey. Just in case.”

“Strawberry.”

He kissed your forehead, then your nose, and then your lips. He pushed into you as your tongues came into contact. Your tongues carassing against each other.

You stretched around him and you started to understand why he’d spent so much time eating you out. Fuck he was thick. You stretched around him looking into his eyes. “It’s okay,” he whispered into your lips. “I’ve got you.”

“It’s too much!” You cried.

“You can take it, Honey,” he kissed you again. “Be a good girl and take Daddy’s dick.”

He started fucking into you a little harder. You could feel yourself leaking around his dick. He’d really worked you up first even if he was still too damn thick for your pussy.

You scratched his back, biting his shoulder. He was thrusting so deep. You don’t think you’d ever been fucked this deep before. You’d definetly never been stretched open like this.

“Right there! Don’t stop!” You begged as he started fucking into your spot. “I’m fucking cumming!”

“That’s it, Honey. Cum for me.” He groaned because your pussy was so tight. Especially as you came. You were tightening around him and if he wasn’t so determined to give you a few more he would have let go inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, Daddy!” You cried. He didn’t let up. Fucking you through it.

“Nasty girl, squirting for me,” he said getting on his knees so he could watch you.

“Oh god!” You didn’t stop. Your pussy gushing around him. He bent your legs back with his hands on the back of your thighs. Watching his cock all slick anytime he’d pull out only to push back into you.

He chuckled as it happened again. Your eyes all clouded over as you came again just like that last time. More juices squirting out of you.

“Please,” you said, but didn’t know why.

“What do you want me to do, Baby?” He asked.

You couldn’t say anything back because you were to far gone. Thoughts had officially left your head. All you knew was him and the he was fucking you so damn good. Still pressing into your spot.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum,” he hissed, getting back on top of you with his bicep wrapped around your thigh so he could keep you spread open. He kissed you again this time deeper. Fucking your mouth with his tongue.

You moaned into him and thrusts became to falter as he started to pump you full of his cum. He thrusted into you deep as he gave you every bit of it. Wanting to completely fill you up with him.

He laid on top of you trying to catch his breath. You were panting underneath him. Not even wanting him to move because he was so warm. You buried your head into his neck.

It took you a minute to come down from your highs. He smiled down at you, kissing you softly. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

You shook your head, already closing your eyes because you were so comfortable like this. “I’m great.”

He chuckled. “That’s what I like to hear.”

You smiled lazily as he finally rolled off of you. He brought you close to him, kissing your nose again. “Stay with me.”

“There’s literally no other place I’d rather be,” he said.

You’d spent all night messing around. Taking little cat naps in between. Right now he had you on your stomach as he fucked you from behind. You never expected to spend your holiday with him, but now you couldn’t picture spending it with anyone else.

You hadn’t even thought about your ex and the meltdown he’d have if he knew about this. It was nice feeling so free. Especially as Steve’s tattooed arms wrapped around you from behind.

Hints of daylight had started to break through the slits of your curtain. He chuckled. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered into your ear as he didn’t even let up the way he was fucking into you.

“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” you whimpered.

He kissed the back of your shoulder. “Gonna spend Christmas letting me make you my girl?”

You nodded trying to peek up at him over your shoulder with a smile. “Your girl?”

“After this I’m not letting you go,” he said, kissing your cheek from behind. “We might need to make this a tradition.”

“I like the sound of that.”

[dragon-kazansky]

Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Masterlist]

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Part 5

It had been a week since you had seen Zemo. You hadn't seen your friend at all either. You had tried to contact her a couple of times, but after receiving no responses, you gave up. It still didn't sit right with you that she and Stark were a thing.

You were currently at work. You were on the afternoon shift today. You could handle the afternoon crowd easier than the morning crowd. It wasn't your usual shift, so your usual co-workers weren't here to banter with.

You were wiping down the counter when a customer approached. You wipe your hands on the towel over your shoulder and turn to take their order, only to stop.

"Zemo?"

He stands there smiling. He was wearing slacks with a button up shirt. He looked very smart, yet so laid back.

"Hello Y/N."

"What are you doing here?"

"Not happy to see me?" He grins.

"I am, it's just... I didn't expect to see you before the race."

He chuckles as he orders something to drink.

"I couldn't wait much longer. I wanted to see your world." He glances around the cafe. It was a nice place. Classy and clearly a good place for groups to hang out.

"Well this is it. I make drinks for people." You make him his drink and hand it over. He pays for it there.

"I like it. It suits you, but I think you'd fit into my world just fine."

You laugh, "not that I'd be of any use in your world. I can barely change a tyre."

That makes him chuckle.

"I'm sure there would be something for you."

You shake your head with a smile.

"Oh, it's your lucky day by the way. My boss happens to be a fan of yours, so I have next weekend off for the races."

"Ah, lucky me indeed." He looks very smug right now. You shake your head, grinning.

"Just this once. I can't take every weekend off."

"Well that's no good. I need you for all my races," he says, stating it like a fact.

"You don't need me. You just want me there for some reason."

Zemo leans on the bar and looks at you softly. He has a small soft smile on his face. You were right in every way.

"Yes, I do want you there."

"I don't see why."

"I like you," he says with ease, confidence oozing from him as he grins at you.

You laugh softly.

"You're so..."

"Handsome? Charming? Dashing?"

"So funny."

You both laugh softly.

"I should get back to work before my manager catches me chatting up the customers," you say, glancing over your shoulder.

"Oh? Do you flirt with others then?"

"Only the good looking ones," you stick your tongue out at him. He winks and takes a seat at a table near by. Though there is literally plenty for him to do, he chooses to watch you work instead.

This was you in your element. Life passing more slowly, more safely.

There was serenity in this life style. Something he couldn't provide through his. He couldn't guarantee anything, as much as he would like to pretend.

There was always that risk.

Risks such greater than anything you could ever face here. He looked down at his half empty cup of coffee. Maybe he shouldn't ever ask you.

You bid goodbye to your customer, and looked over at Zemo. You smiled at him. He smiled back. He finished his coffee and got up from his table.

"That was lovely, though I do have a particular fondness for tea."

You chuckle.

"We serve tea too."

He smiles.

"When do you finish?" He asks.

You look up at the clock on the wall.

"Two more hours. Why don't you go look around the town or something."

"I think I will. I'll pick you up later, no arguing," he winks at you and makes his exit. You smile as you clear his table.

Zemo walks through the town you live in. It's nice, pretty. Again, it suits you perfectly.

Looking around, he almost feels homesick. There was nothing left of the place he once called home. He shakes those thoughts from his mind.

Something catches his attention up ahead. A limo. It stands out vastly against the rest of the cars on the street. Far too sleek, shiny, and expensive for anyone around here.

It irks him that he has a bad feeling about it.

From up the road, he watches as the man he dreaded steps out. Tony Stark put on his shades before holding his hand out for someone. A pretty young lady climbs out of the limo.

Something about her strikes Zemo as familiar. He can't pinpoint from where though.

Zemo watches as Stark closes the limo door and takes the young lady into boutique behind them.

What was Tony Stark doing here?

Zemo had made the trip for you. He had his excuse to be here instead of down at the track. Tony, however, didn't.

Zemo headed over to where he was stood across the street, though he couldn't quite see through the store window display.

He had to make himself scarce before Stark came out again. He didn't want Tony seeing him. As he walked away, he didn't let go of the thought that he had seen that girl before.

Zemo was back at the cafe at the end of your shift like he said he would be. The car he was driving was another one from his collection. He opened the door for you and climbed in once you were safely in his car.

As he drove to your address, which he flirted with you for, his mood changed to something a little more serious. Concerned, you had to ask him what happened in those 2 hours he was alone.

"Are you alright?"

He glances at you.

"Yes, why?"

"You're clutching the steering wheel rather tightly and your jaw is locked again. What's on your mind?"

"I saw Stark here in town."

You swallow awkwardly.

"Did he see you?"

"No. I saw him. He was with someone." He glances at you as you shift in your seat. Now it was turn to be concerned. "What is it?"

"That's my friend. Remember when she called me at the airstrip? She told me she was going to meet me at the train station and tell me something big. Well, when we got out, Tony Stark was there with a limousine. Apparently the news was she is daring him. They had met that night after the first race, he had asked her out and she agreed."

You couldn't look at him.

Zemo, keeping an eye on the road, reached over and placed his hand on your knee. Your eyes flickered to his hand. His touch was warm and comforting.

"She won't talk to me now. When we got to my place, I had asked her about it. She got defensive and shut me off."

His thumb rubs circles on your leg.

"You don't think this is some kind of stunt do you?" You ask, looking up at him.

"I don't know, but I wouldn't put it past him. It's not the first time he's done something big for publicity."

You want to ask, but something else comes to mind.

"They haven't made it public yet."

"I assume he'll make his move at the next race. Cameras everywhere there." He glances at you.

That makes sense.

"Are you bothered about it?" You ask, looking at him from the corner of your eye.

"No. What Stark does for publicity is his problem. The question, does it bother you?"

"Yes," you state honestly, "because I can't tell if it's real, or if she's being carried away by the fantasy of dating her favourite pro racer. I looked into racing as much as I possibly could before that second race. I tried to get some background on the racers, you included, but Stark seems to thrive on being in the spotlight. He wins over and over again, he trots around the globe to meet people and race his cars. He is always making headlines somewhere."

Zemo gave a nod. He was aware. It was because he kept seeing Stark pop up everywhere that he became a pro racer himself.

"You're worried about your friend. That is understandable."

"I'm worried for her if it's not real."

He glances at you. It's as he is sitting there, hand on your knee, glancing at you as he listens to you, that the thought returns to him. Helmut Zemo is not a man who plays around with people's feelings. If this was you two, there would be no other way than for him to be honest and true to you.

As a man who had lost everything in the past, he would never do that to you.

He takes his hand back as reaches your destination. Your apartment building was a nice little thing. You were up on the 3rd floor.

"Do you want to come in?"

He smiles.

"Yes, I do."

You chuckle. You both get out and you lead him up to your apartment. You smile nicely at your neighbours as you pass them, hoping they don't question the handsome man trailing behind you. No one seemed to recognise him, so that worked in your favour.

You let him into your apartment first.

"It's not much, but it's home."

The apartment wasn't huge, but spacious enough for one person. It was decorated nicely, every little thing a reflection of you. There was a bit of clutter here and there, but it was clear you looked after your space.

"I like it."

"Can't imagine the kind of place you live in. Bet it's a lot nicer than this." You head into the kitchen to make him some tea.

"Perhaps a little bigger, it's no castle."

You chuckle softly and set out two cups.

Zemo glances around at the photos on display. You don't have a lot, but he's curious to see what they are.

"Can I ask you something?" He asks, not looking away from a photo of you and your friend.

"Of course."

"When you were researching the racers, what did you find on me?"

You let the kettle boil as you look at his back.

"Not much, I'll be honest. I didn't want to ask about it, but there was something, if you'll let me."

He halts his movements and wonders what you found. It couldn't be, could it?

"What is it?"

"You're from Sokovia, right?"

He relaxes. Zemo turns slowly and smiles, but there isn't much emotion behind it.

"Yes. I was."

You nibble at your lip softly.

"I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for," he says, walking over to you.

"Still, I remember hearing about it on the news. It was everywhere for a while. I can't imagine losing my home country."

Zemo reaches over and takes your hand in his. You wouldn't vocalise the fact you realised he was being a lot more physical today. You enjoyed the feel of his touch.

"Thank you for your kindness, but you don't need to worry. I am happy where I am now."

You smile at one another. The kettles clicks off, you reluctantly let go of his hands, missing their warmth. You turn around to see to the tea.

"There really wasn't much else about you online. You're a mystery to me, Zemo."

He smiles.

"Makes me all the more interesting, yes?"

You laugh softly.

"I suppose it does."

You hand him one of the cups and you both go sit down. You face one another on the sofa, enjoying the tea you had made. You watched the way he closed his eyes and took a sip.

"This is very good."

"What can I say? I'm a professional," you joke.

"I believe you."

"So, the race." You smile, sitting up and leaning forward a little. Zemo laughed. It was sweet how excited you were about it, considering you hadn't had an interest before... well, before him.

"I can I take you to the race myself?" He asks, reading your face for a response.

"Take me? Isnt6that going to be a hassle? Going there, coming back, and then going back again?"

"I'll do it for you," he grins mischievously.

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?" He asks.

"Flirting with me."

"Of course I am. You haven't told me to stop," he tells you.

You smile shyly at him. That was true.

"You should focus on your car, I'll be there. I promise."

He shakes his head subtly.

"Too late, I've made up my mind. I'll be here to pick you up the day before. You can stay with me over the weekend. Sound like a plan?"

You look at him, trying to see if this was just him teasing you, but you don't see anything like that. If anything, those beautiful brown eyes of his are almost pleading for you to agree.

"Alright."

His smile is so full of joy, your heart feels like it could burst. He looked so handsome smiling like that.

"Then I best be on my way. I have some thing to plan before the weekend." Zemo put his empty cup down and got up. You did the same and showed him to the door.

You see him out, but before he leaves your apartment completely, he leaves you with a kiss on the cheek. He doesn't say anything as he walks away.

You're left a smiling blushing mess.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb @latenightartist-author @hb8301 @goddessofmischief03 @xxidontwikeitxx @themeanestlittlewitch @scuttle-buttle

[honeytae]

Stop running from love.

hey bubs! honestly..i don’t know what this is lol it kind of got away from me. but it’s loosely based off of safety net by ariana grande. which is like one of my favorite songs in existence. i hope you guys like this angsty little piece of nothing?? lmao

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @jjlovr2015 genre: angst, fluff? word count: 2.2k

if you would like to listen, here it is:

You were doing it again.

Sabotaging yourself. Running away. Ghosting a man who had only ever shown you the utmost care and respect.

He’d already called multiple times today, frantic texts showing that he was now beyond worried at the way you’d seemingly dropped off the face of the earth. 

You couldn’t blame him. You’d been exclusively dating for three months. Three beautiful and happy months alongside a great guy whose smile brightened every room he graced with his precious presence. Three months that you’d been able to not go into a panic about that very concept.

Until you fell.

The last time you’d seen Jimin was last week when he’d met with you after work for a quick bite to eat.

It was the same place you always went to; you didn’t even have to ask where you were meeting anymore, already on your way to the booth in the back corner with a stupid grin on your face.

The checker floored diner had become a regular spot for you two to stop at, as it was in the middle of the city and perfectly placed between both of your jobs.

That quick bite to eat had easily turned into a full dinner, along with a dessert that’s whipped cream ended up on the tip of his nose in an instant, your giggles causing him to grin wider as he played dumb.

It was simple, not extravagant or fancy by any means, but that was never needed with him. You always had so much fun with Jimin. He was gentle, sweet, caring. All the right things. 

And it was when he was walking you back up to your apartment, his hand gripping yours in a way that was soft yet secure, sparkling eyes pressing into crescents when he smiled over at you that you came to a stunning realization; you were falling in love with him. 

With a panicked last press of your lips to his cheek, you’d closed your door, leaning back against it as you stared ahead of you, absolutely paralyzed in the silence of your apartment.

You could not be in love. What even is love? Heartbreak, that’s what it is. One way or another, it will always end. You needed to pull back before you got too invested. But, fuck, was it too late?

Erupting into hysterics as you came to terms with what had to be done to protect both yourself and Jimin, you slid your back down the wood, placing your forehead on your knees as you curled up into yourself. 

Since then, you’d made it your mission to put him off, every text going unanswered and each call going to voicemail. 

And now here you were in your bed in the early hours of the afternoon, shades drawn to encase the room in pitch black. It matched your mood, frustrated and angry with yourself as you cried into your pillow. 

You hated yourself for doing this to him. Shutting him out with no explanation; he deserves more than you. In the end, this was to his benefit. He’d go on to find someone worthy of his companionship, someone who didn’t want to disappear at the concept of love. 

Someone with less baggage to drag along with them, someone who had a healthy idea of relationships and wasn’t shattered at their core. 

While it was painful to ignore him without giving a reason, you knew he’d give up on you eventually. Everyone always did, and it was just for the best. 

You hiccuped another sob as your phone buzzed on the table yet again, grabbing the pillow from beside you to sandwich your head between the mattress and the fluffy material, effectively muffling the noise of the vibration as you screwed your sore eyes shut. 

“Love?”

You froze at the sudden unmistakable sound of Jimin’s voice calling for you, head spinning as you shut your eyes tighter. 

Were you imagining Jimin’s voice beside you? Were you that far gone?

You were proven wrong when the blanket was pulled off of your body, cold air hitting the bare skin of your arms as the pillow was removed from atop your head. 

You gasped at the sudden exposure, prying your eyes open to look up at none other than Jimin, the hurt and worried look on his face immediately causing you to sob again. 

“Shit, baby, come here.” He rushed to sit down beside you, you easily crawling onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your back, palm smoothing up and down your spine as he slowly rocked you back and forth. 

You sat there silently, letting yourself be comforted by him. For some reason, Jimin was harder to push away than the others. His arms felt so nice around you, like home. 

But this had to be done. You wanted him to stay like this in your memory, his image remaining undamaged by any painful breakup. 

“Jimin, I-I can’t see you anymore. We can’t be together.” You forced out, heart twisting in agony at the silence ensuing after your words, Jimin shifting you up his lap to look at you. 

“What do you mean?” He asked in disbelief, eyebrows knitting together as his eyes widened, you shaking your head instead of giving him a verbal answer due to the growing lump in your throat at his undeniably heartbroken expression. 

“We just can’t, Jimin.” You said lamely, your tight grip on his arm contradicting your words as his mouth gaped open at you. 

“Wh- what’s wrong? What did I do?” He asked desperately, causing you to sob harder at him blaming himself for this. 

“It’s not you, Jimin. You’re amazing, you deserve a better person.” You sniffled, Jimin immediately pulling a face of further confusion as he shook his head to dismiss your words. 

“A better- what are you talking about?” He asked, chasing your eyes as you chose to divert them to stare at the blank wall in front of you. 

“You deserve someone amazing just like you, Jimin.” You mumbled, the man sitting there in silence before he shifted off of the bed, making you think you’d finally pushed him away. 

The feeling of his weight being removed from the bed both pained and relieved you, happy for him to be able to move on now, but sad at that same idea. 

But you were taken by surprise when Jimin kneeled on the floor in front of you, forcing you to look at him as he reached up to hold your chin, eyes imploring yours to be more upfront with him. 

“You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. What are you talking about?” He repeated his question, silence lingering in the air at the words as you sat anxiously plucking the sheets below you with your fingers. 

“Baby.” He called for you, his hurt tone causing your nose to scrunch up with more tears, his thumbs catching the salty water as his expression became more pained by the second. 

“Let me in. Please, just let me in.” He pleaded with you, voice soft yet firm as he watched you break down in front of him, heart pounding in his chest at the mere thought of losing you from his life because of whatever insecurities you were not telling him about. 

“I’m fucking broken, Jimin. You don’t want to be let in, believe me.” You said, voice weak and wavering from the emotions bubbling up in your throat, shaky from the nights of no sleep you'd gotten in the last week. 

“Yes, I do. I’d accept all of you if you just gave me a chance.” He gripped your hands with his, intertwining your fingers to give a reassuring squeeze.

Staring at him, you did not know what to say. Nobody had ever pushed back on your walls like this. They accepted it, moved on, and lived a better life without you in it. You just wished Jimin would do the same.

But he was fighting you on it. Fighting you on something you didn’t even want to do in the first place. 

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. And that fucking terrifies me.” You explained shakily, concentrating on the feeling of Jimin’s palm running up and down your arm. 

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, either. It’s new, of course it’s scary. But I care about you, I want you, I miss you. I don’t want you to shut me out.” He said softly, his honeyed voice soothing you enough to make eye contact with his gentle brown orbs. 

It was silent as you stared at each other, fear in his eyes and the same reflecting in your own. Studying his features, your heart twisted at his uncharacteristically dark circles, realizing he was probably running on the same amount of sleep you were at the moment. 

“I don’t know where to go from here.” You sniffled, Jimin tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as his glassy eyes stared back at you. 

Feeling confident enough to stand from the floor and sit beside you on the bed, he let you guide him up against the headboard, resting your backs on it as you let out a sigh.

“Stop pushing me away. Stop running from love.” He responded, his words sounding so genuine that you nearly burst out into tears again. 

Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, placing your temple on his shoulder as his arms encircled your torso. 

“I want to be with you.” You admitted in a hoarse whisper, head throbbing as you rested your weight on Jimin, body giving out in exhaustion as he held you to him, delicate as if you’d break. Hell, maybe you would. 

“Me too.” He said without missing a beat, eagerness evident in his tone as you let your aching eyes fall shut. 

“I just don’t know how.” You sighed, the man humming in response as he threaded his fingers through your hair, rubbing your scalp soothingly as he pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head. 

“We can figure it out together, okay? I don’t want to throw in the towel. Not without at least a little bit of a fight.” He joked, the heavy mood in the room being lightened a bit at the sound of your exhaled laugh. 

You lifted your head to look at him, opening your eyes to meet his own in the dark room, barely able to make out his features as the sun must have gone in behind the clouds outside your bedroom.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into, Jimin. I’m a mess. If you want to run, go now.” You spoke seriously, one corner of the man’s lips lifting as he bit down on his cheek, a habit you’d picked up early on as behavior he exhibited when he was hesitant to say something. 

“Listen, I’m a mess too. This is nothing.” He reassured you, your eyes studying his features as he seemed to express a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before with him. 

“Trying to break up with you because of my own baggage and insecurities? That’s nothing?” You asked with a humorless chuckle, causing the man to reach out for your hand, sighing out a breath of relief when you let him lock his fingers around yours again.

“Well, I guess that in itself is something.” He shrugged, shuffling to hover over you as your red eyes met his. 

“But I will always fight for you. You’re worth fighting for.” He said firmly, your eyes becoming glassed over again before you picked your head up off the pillow to catch his lips in a kiss, your palms sliding to the back of his neck as his plush lips worked over yours. 

Sensing your emotions, he pulled back only slightly to press his lips over your closed eyelids, the tender action causing your frown to deepen as you gazed up at the sweet man. 

“I’m not going to leave you. Whatever’s been done to you in the past, I’m not a repeat of that. I would never do anything to hurt you, I promise.” He said softly, his words seemingly making your heart alive again as it began to pound rapidly in your chest. 

And with that, you threw caution to the wind. Even if he broke your heart, you couldn’t stop that from cutting your experience with him shorter than it had to be. 

Because Jimin was the softest, sweetest, most lovable man you’d ever met. He showed time and time again that he cared about you, that he wasn’t like the others. And to give him up just because of some bad past experiences was just not worth it. 

“I trust you.” You whispered, almost scared to let the words fall from your lips, but relieved when you saw the wide smile on Jimin’s face. 

“I trust you, too.” He said softly, tracing his finger over your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you again, laying down beside you to spoon your body with his, pressing his lips against your shoulder in a soothing action. 

Laying in his arms, you felt more at peace than you’d felt in days. Being back in his embrace, you felt like you could breathe again, easily falling into much needed sleep with his warmth pressed to your back, his arms looped around your body as he pressed tender kisses to the shell of your ear. 

Jimin was your home. And it felt so good to be home. 

[reidgraygubler]

short skirt, high heels (spencer reid/reader)

Title: short skirt, high heels, 

Anon requested: Hi! May i please have a Spencer one shot? y/n has been part of the team for a while, she’s confident, fun and always wearing professional but slightly sexy workwear. Spencer is caught staring at y/n legs while she’s wearing a skirt. Her and Spence have a flirty friendship that leads to more?

Couple: spencer reid/fem reader

Category: spicy fluff

Content Warning: comments about sex, sex jokes, swearing, low-key sub!spencer, low-key dom!reader, mentions of drinking (but no actual drinking) 

Word Count: 2,371

Summary: Spencer has had a crush on reader since she basically started working for the BAU. It doesn’t help that reader dresses to leave a little to the imagination and is constantly flirting with him.

A/N: this is my first time writing dom(-ish)!reader… let alone sub(-ish)!spencer… so pretty please bare with me with this one… i mean, i think i did a dom(-ish)!reader... but yeah! thank you everyone for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

I don’t know why I wear such revealing clothing to work. It’s modest and professional, I just have to put that out there. But, it is on the sexier side of clothing. I suppose I do it because I like it, it makes me feel more confident. And you need a certain level of confidence to have a job at the FBI’s prestigious Behavioural Analysis Unit. 

The way people's eyes followed me felt great. I loved it. But it was always one person who caught my attention, or I caught their attention I should say. It was always the same person, and will forever be the same person. Spencer Reid’s eyes have been on me since day one, not that I’m complaining. 

I could picture it clearly how his eyes followed me from the elevator all the way to Hotchner’s office. And how red his face was when Derek called him out about. It was honestly my favorite thing in the world. I kinda felt bad about the teasing he got. But, he shouldn’t have been staring in the first place. It was my first day! I didn’t know him… Let alone did he know me.

A pile of files was sitting in one arm, while my free hand held a small briefcase. The elevator was a scratchy silvery color, and the lights from above reflected off every surface. 

My hair was pulled back in a high and curly ponytail. A tight, navy blue, pencil skirt clung to my legs, and a modest, yet very low, red blouse hung from my shoulders. I typically try to do subtle makeup for professional days, but I always look like some sort of supermodel at the end of the day. 

The doors to the elevator doors dinged open, showing me, behind a floor to ceiling window, the open offices of the BAU. Aaron Hotchner would be the man I was looking for, but their offices were so open, people were walking around, bustling because of their copious amounts of work. Can’t wait for that to be my life.

I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I entered the main office area. A few people were sitting and standing around one person’s desk. They were all laughing and talking to each other as the people around them worked their asses off. Their boss just lets them do this?

I furrowed my eyebrows as I walked into the office area some more. People were still rushing past me, not talking to me. I know for a fact I don’t look familiar to anyone here, and I look lost to everyone. A little help would be nice.

“Could you tell me…” I started to talk but didn’t get to finish my thought when the person just continued walking. I let out an annoyed sigh and went to stop someone else, but fail when they glared at me and kept walking. 

“Uh, Aaron Hotchner’s office?” I failed again. I threw my head back and let out a deep sigh. I didn’t realize just how busy it was today. If I had known it was so busy, I wouldn’t have come in today.

“Excuse me,” I stepped right in front of someone else and they stopped to look at me. 

“I’m sorry, I gotta go. Time-sensitive thing,” they pointed at their watch before pushing past me. I bit my lower lip and shook my head again.

“Can anyone please tell me where Aaron Hotchner’s office is?!” I only half-shouted. I still gotta maintain some level of professionalism. I was just getting fed up with everyone ignoring me. Everyone around me stopped their movement and looked at me. 

The group of people at the desk all stared at me with wide eyes before pointing towards the other side of the room. I looked at everyone before looking at where they were pointing. A man wearing a black suit and a businessman haircut was standing on a small catwalk, looking at everyone in the office area. Although, he was mostly looking at me. I widened my eyes and looked down at the ground with wide eyes before walking over to him.

“Hi, you must be Aaron Hotchner,” I looked up at him before introducing myself. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene,” I looked back out in front of us. Everyone was back at their work, even the people at the desk. All except for one person.

A man, who was with the group around the desk, was staring at me. Not near me or at Aaron, but right at me. It was just obvious that he was staring at me. His eyes carefully lingering on my legs, or arms, or my chest for the briefest second. But never long enough on my face. Although when he did look at my face, I smiled and winked. His face grew three shades red. 

“No, no, don’t worry. I understand the hustle and bustle of this place,” Aaron laughed before turning to look at me, “Let’s step inside my office.”

So, that’s where I was work-wise. Working on the team with the BAU, with the man who stared at me and became a tomato the second I winked at him. Ah, good ole’ Spencer Reid. That boy doesn’t even know he’s infatuated with me… But I do.

I’ve had my fair share of flirts with him, and scandalous comments made about the two of us. Or, the jokes and teasing made by others. Although, our friendship always had some sort of flirtiness to it, even if he didn’t notice he was flirting with me. There was still something there. I smiled at the thought of him being so oblivious and clueless. 

Derek giving him pointers or tips was my favorite. The help was nice, honestly. But, it was the execution. It was a little sad when Derek left to be with Hank and Savannah, leaving poor Spencer to fend for himself. Of course, Rossi tried but no really let Spencer listen. 

I could hear his voice now when he told Derek and David that he didn’t need tips or pointers, because ‘He doesn’t have a crush on her.’ They never really gave up on that though.

“Seems like you’ve caught someone’s attention,” Emily muttered as she looked down at the desk. I glanced over my shoulder and noted that the eyes one Spencer Reid were wandering up and down my lower half and backside. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dressing for a guy. I mean, I dress mostly for myself. But the unwanted, yet wanted, attention from one guy was excellent.

“And he says he doesn’t have a crush on me,” I looked back at Emily with a smile. She laughed as she looked at the paperwork I was signing. “Do you think he even knows he’s staring?” I spoke as I placed the pen down on the desktop.

“I don’t think he knows he likes you,” she replied, finally shuffling the papers together in a neat pile. I scoffed and shook my head. “C’mon, you know Reid. He’s got the innocence of a 1st grader when it comes to relationships and romance,” she laughed as she stood up straight.

“True, this is true,” I returned the laughter as I stood up so I was no longer leaning over my desk. “All done with paperwork?” I asked, smiling at Emily.

“For now, I hope,” she laughed as she picked up the papers. “Good luck with you know who,” she spoke in a sing-y song tone before slipping away to her office. I looked back over my shoulder and smiled when I saw that Spencer was still staring at me.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I winked once he looked up at my face. And I swear, his face changed several different shades of red as he looked at me. He went from looking normal to looking like Roma Tomato. I didn’t feel bad about my joke either. It wasn’t the first time I’d caught him staring at me. “Or just close your eyes and use your robot brain to take a picture,” I smirked at him.  

“I… I wasn’t staring,” Spencer muttered as he pulled his eyes from my body to look at his own paperwork. I slowly walked away from my desk and over towards him. I leaned over so I was the same height as him. But, that also gave him a great look at my cleavage. I smirked when he struggled to not stare at my chest.

“Sure you weren’t,” I placed my hand to his cheek and smiled. For a moment he leaned more into my touch, but instantly jerked away from my hand, “It’s okay, you weren’t staring at me. I get it.” I smiled and cocked my head, “I know how I look. I’d stare too if I was you,” I pulled my hand away from his face before sitting down in his lap. Spencer held his hands up so he wasn’t touching me at all. I had to force myself not to pout. I’d be okay if he touched me in any way, innocent, not innocent… Doesn’t matter. 

“What are you doing!? There are people here! Watching!” He exclaimed once I was settled on his legs. I smiled and nodded.

“I know, I know,” I whispered as I wrapped my arms around his neck, “But, the next time I catch you staring at my ass, I’m gonna do a lot worse than sitting on your lap, Reid,” I smiled and blinked at him. He stared at me and nodded slowly, like even though he understood the words I was saying, he knew he wasn’t going to follow through with them.

It was impressive how his face got even redder. But it was crazy. I kinda liked it too. 

“Do you understand?” I whispered as I looked at him. He nodded. I smiled again before I stood up. “I’d understand if you look again, I won’t be upset. In fact, I’ll encourage it, Spence,” ” I kept smiling at him as I walked away from him. 

I returned to my desk and gathered my things before I left the office for the day. As I looked over my shoulder, Spencer was definitely staring at me, and he knew I definitely caught him. So, I smiled before winking and waving as the elevator doors shut.

{***}{***}{***}

“O’Keefes anyone?” Luke asked as we stepped off the elevator. I rolled my shoulders and looked at him with a somewhat flirtatious smile. He returned the smile and winked.

“I’m always down to go to O’Keefes with you, Lukey Poo,” I cooed as I pinched his cheek. A groan came from the back of the group, causing me to turn and look. A smile grew on my lips when my eyes landed on Spencer, who had rolled his eyes and looked away from Luke and I. “You comin’ with us, Pretty Boy? First-round on me?” I smiled at him.

“I’m definitely in if you’re buying drinks,” Jennifer looked at me before stepping ahead of Luke and I. I smiled at her before looking back at Spencer.

“Pretty please,” I half begged as I pouted my lower lip and gave my best puppy dog eyes. Spencer looked back at me, a pointed stare in his eye. I gave him my best puppy dog eyes and playful pout as I looked at him. “You don’t even have to drink. You can just sit there and be quiet,” I spoke before abruptly stopping in my tracks. And just as I turned around, Spencer walked right into me. In order to keep me from toppling over, he grabbed both my arms to keep me upright. His hands were touching the exposed skin on my arms, causing me to smile. This would be the first time he was touching me, off of a case. Working on a case is a whole different story. Pulling me out of the way of an unsub is different than firmly placing his hands on my arms to steady me from falling.

“You need to be more careful… I won’t always be there to catch you when you fall,” he spoke low just so I could hear him. I smiled as I looked up at him.

“But, I’d love it if you were there,” I lifted a hand to place on his chest. Just as he opened his mouth, someone appeared beside us. I smiled as I looked over at the person.

“Will you two just get a room already?” Emily looked between Spencer and I before leaving us alone. I looked back up at Spencer with a new, confident, and flirtatious smile. He looked clueless as always. Of course, he didn’t know what Emily meant by that.

“Whaddya say we go find a broom closet and show up to O’Keefes a little later than the others,” I carefully wrapped my arms around his neck. Even in my highest heels, Spencer was still a good few inches taller than me. So, I stood on my toes to try to get closer to his personal space and lean closer to his face. “I know where some great broom closets are to get… funky in,” I whispered as I leaned closer to him. We were a good few inches away from each other, and it was taking everything in me to not press my lips to his.  

“I… I, uh... Uh,” Spencer started, but clearly couldn’t find the words to say anything. I smiled before lifting a finger to his lips.

“Just a nod or a shake of your head will be okay…  And, if you say no, I won’t be upset. I’ll stop and I won’t bring it up again… Now, Doctor Reid,” I whispered as I pulled my finger away from his lips. “Do you want to go find a broom closet and have some fun in there?” I asked again. Spencer stared at me with wide eyes before rapidly nodding. I put my arms back around his neck before pressing my lips to his. Spencer placed his hands firmly on my waist.

And after 8 years of working here, I’m finally getting what I want. 

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto

[wonderwomanfantasy]

Omega Oikawa

Of course I love Omega Oikawa

Omega!Oikawa x Alpha!Reader

warnings: ABO things, jealousy, swearing  that's all I think

word count: 2,000 (about) 

summary: Oikawa loves you so much it’s a shame there are so many obsicales in the way of him actually being with you. 

Oikawa really hated his fangirls sometimes. Sure the attention was nice, the presntes they gave him were alright too. What he really couldn’t stand was the way the girls would baby him. 

“you’re such a cutie Oikawa you should wear pastels more often,” one of them cooed pinching his cheek oikawa bit back a grimace already deciding never to wear this sweater again. 

He knew he was an omega, but he was still a six foot man, not a child. The real issue is that if you were the one touching him and telling him he looked good in pastels. He had worn this new sweater to get your attention in the first place but he never seemed to catch the attention of Alphas all of his fangirls were either betas or Omegas. Maybe you just didn’t like pretty boys like him. 

“Oikawa do you want to walk home with me after practice?” one of them asked. He smiled polietly,

“Not tonight I promised Iwa I’d walk with him tonight,” he lied. “Speaking of Iwa I should probably get to practice, watch me okay?” he asked teasingly. the girls swooned slightly cheering for him as he jogged away. If only he could make you swoon that same way. You didn’t even come to the practices.

Or at least you normally didn’t go to practices but the second he entered the gym he was over whelmed by the smell of molasses and cinnamon. He whipped around to face the stands and sure enough there you were, leaning on the railing looking about ready to nodd off. 

His nostrils flaired as he breathed in the unmistakably alpha scent. He doubted anyone else on the team picked up on the intrusive smell, but he had become so intune with every minute detail about you it would be impossible for him to miss it. 

You felt his eyes on you and turned to him. If he wasn’t frozen before he was now, even with all the distance between the two of you your eyes were magntizing he couldn’t move. a sleepy smile spread across your face and you waved at him. Oikawa’s heart hammered in his chest. you were so beautiful He couldn't belive he was being graced by your smile. 

There was deafing boom as the volleyballconnected with the back of his head. Normally he was able to dodge Iwa’s spikes but he was so distracted by you that he didn’t even see him winding up. 

“Get your ass in gear Shittykawa!” Iwazumi barked. Oikawa sprung back to his feet and glared at his friend. How was he supposed to impress you and make himself look good if Iwa was bullying him. He’s just have to try extra hard today to make up for it. 

“Kunimi is just so cute don’t you think?” your friend asked with a giggle. 

“the cutest,” you agreed earning you a sharp jab to the side from her elbow. you shot awake and glared at her “what was that for?”

“You were falling asleep, don’t tell me Kunimi is cute if you aren’t even going to look at him!” she whined. you glanced down at the court, more for her benefit then yours. 

“like you said, he’s cute,” you agreed before closing your eyes again. Normally you went straight home and took a quick nap to recharge from school and you were really starting to miss said nap at this moment. 

“Come on (y/n) don’t be like that Isn’t there someone on the team you think is cute?” she prodded. you opened your eyes and looked down at the court again, this time actually looking at the game going on. Oikawa was mid-jump, his graceful fingers meeting the ball mid-air pushing it up in a wide arc for Iwazumi to spike back down. 

Oikawa was in your class, He had such a presence it was hard to ignore him. If you were being honest, you liked him a lot. But his horde of fangirls were har dot ignore as well. He could have any Alpha he wanted there was no way he was interested in you. 

“i don’t know Matsukawa is kind of cute,” you said with a shrug. He was cute, just not your type. 

“Matsukawa really? I thought you were more into Oikawa,” she said making you jump.

“What? why would you think that? I don’t want anything to do with Oikawa,” you shouted your cheeks heating with embaresment.  

“that’s the most awake I’ve seen you all day,” she laughed before leaning in and whispering in your ear. “Although I think you were a bit loud,” 

your heart sank in your chest, and as you looked around you saw okiawa fans glaring at you. in horror you looked down at where the team was. Oikawa’s ears and cheeks were burning red. It was clear he’s heard you. shit. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to appoligise to Oikawa, what would you even say anyway? “sorry I didn’t really mean it but I just couldn’t let my friend know that I’m crazy in love with you.” 

Whatever. It just meant his bruised ego could be soothed by one of his fanatics. Your inner wolf growled with jealousy, but you could hardly be his place of comfort when you hurt him in the first place. You just hoped it wouln’t be a huge deal tomorrow when you saw him in class.

“Will you stop moping?” Iwa snapped oikawa continued to mope. “Come on man it’s just Alpha whose not into you, you’ll get over it,”

“It’s not just any Alpha it was (y/n)! and they sounded so upset by it!” He whinned. He would have hoped that if he over heard you talking about him you would be singing his praises, not admitly denying that you’d ever have feelings for him. His heart was utterly broken. 

“welll I mean you’re annoying as fuck it was bound to happen eventually that someone didn’t like you,” Iwa snorted. That sentiment didn’t make Oikawa feel any better.

“maybe if they just knew me better they would like me more don’t you think?” Oikawa asked hopefully. Iwazumi didn’t look confident. 

“I think it might be better if they knew less about you actually,”

“That settles it, I’ll figure out a way to spend more time them and they’ll have to fall in love with me!”

The next day you were on edge, tapping your foot rapidly in your desk. you weren’t ready to face Oikawa, you spent half the night up worried about it. 

“uhm (y/n)?” you blinked and looked up seeing an omega boy who was also in class

“yes?” you asked. You weren’t what the boy wanted, for the life of you, you couldn’t remember his name. This had to be one of the first times you’d spoken to him.

“well uhm I just wanted to tell you you looked pretty today,” he stammered that shocked you. you knew for a fact that you looked like a wreak 

“oh uhm thank you?” you said almost hesitantly 

“I- I uhm I was wondering if you’d want to go out with-” suddenly he was cut off

“good morning (y/n)!” Oikawa greeted cheerily, shoving the other boy to the side and placing his palms flat on your desk. You were surprised to see him, but you were grateful for him saving you. 

“oh good morning Oikawa,” two omega’s accosting you, what a weird day. You opened your mouth to appoligise to him for yesterday but before you could cut you off.

“The teacher told me to talk to you, I need some help with this unit do you think I could study with you this weekend?” he asked his overly sweet voice sent a shiver down your spine it was clear he was pissed. Still you couldn’t pass up an opportunity to spend more time with him, your wolf wouldn’t alow it.

“sure,” you decided. Even though he was an Omega, you felt so weak in comparison to him, it was an odd feeling to say the least. He smiled his brilliant smile at you and took your hand quickly scrawling his number on your palm. 

“text me and we’ll work out the details okay?” you agreed and he went back to his desk. It was only then that you noticed that the other boy had slunk away back to his own desk hunched in on himself. You felt bad for him, but you would have had to reject him anyway, even if you knew it could never happen, you’re heart belonged to Oikawa. 

“hey Ibuki can I talk to you for a second,” Oikawa said to the Omega who’d tried to ask you out earlier. He tried to sound nice but the anger seeped through. The smaller omega glared at him. 

“What do you want?” Ibuki snapped, clearly still upset that Oikawa had interrupted his little love confession. He had felt his blood boil just watching it unfold. Oikawa wasn’t going to let some other omega steal you away before he had the chance to woo you properly. 

“Stay away from (y/n) I’ve got dibbs,” oikawa growled. He’d never felt so heated before, he knew one warning wouldn’t be enough, He would have to win you over sooner rather than latter. 

Studding with Oikawa was surprisingly difficult. when he was this close his scent was dizzying. It was also because Oikawa seemed to know the material better than you did. 

“You’re pretty smart Oikawa, I don’t know why you asked for my help,” you said accusingly. Oikawa flushed and fidgeted nervously. 

“what? you’re just a good teacher,” He said dismissively. 

“I’m being serious Omegal don’t lie to me,” you ordered, and he was helpless, incapable of ignoring your Alpha voice. 

“Honestly I just got jealous seeing you talk to other omegas and I just wanted to spend more time with you. I paniced and asked you to help me study,” He admitted shyly. He looked up at you with his warm brown eyes

“I really like you Alpha,” he whispered. In a blur of movement, you knocked him of his chair landing on top of him pinning oikawa to the floor. 

“You should be careful saying things like that Omega, you’re alone with an alpha and if you say things like that I might not be able to control myself,” You growled lightly. his scent was intoxicating this close. his face turned a cute shade of pink and he started stuttering not saying anything coherent. 

“Is that what you want, Torou? for me to have my way with you?” you teased and his face turned a darker shade of red. He tired a few times to speak against before giving up and just nodding. 

“say it,” you said grazing your lips against his neck making him shudder.

“A-Alpha please do whatever you want with me,” he whinned making you smirk. You weren’t going to let go of him anytime soon, not now that he was finally yours. 

[misterewrites]

Mystery at the Salt-Irons

Hey everyone! E here with a new chapter! kept you waiting huh? Haha sorry it's been a busy few weeks. Nothing serious but I had to keep starting and stopping this chapter so it threw me off but it's here, it's ready and I hope you enjoy it!

I have some special guests in this story, some ocs made by my friends because you know what I can so I will and honestly, they were really great oc ideas guys. so keep an eye out for @hains-mae and Biz_fantasist  OC(I don’t know if she has a tumblr but it’s late so I’ll edit it later) 

That's it for me! I hope you are all stay safe, keep your loved ones safe, wash your hands, wear your masks, push to give everyone the vaccine cuz this is getting ridiculous. I hope you have a great week, thank you for reading. I deeply appreciate and feel free to share it with your friends, give me feedback. Reblog and comments all that fun stuff! Thanks and I'll see you soon!

Here’s the chapter over at Ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/85394095

Here’s the story from the beginning if you’re curious what this is about

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

and here’s a list of all my work both original and the various fandoms I write for

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/works

Summary:  Finnrick is called to solve a mysterious case as per his job as the city's only Private Investigator wizard but as he sinks deeper into the case, the more it seems that something is happening behind the scenes. Of course with an old friend in town and dark magic surrounding the case, Finnrick is as busy as ever. Ain't no rest for the wicked.

-----

The Salt-Iron Flats weren’t anything special on the surface: An unassuming apartment complex on the north side of Newton Haven, the only thing most people remembered about the place was how the price tag hurt their souls.

Of course, unlike the general housing market, the Salt-Irons (affectionately referred to by the locals) actually had a very reasonable reason for fetching such a high rate: The salt and cold iron baked into every single brick that formed the building.

If you weren’t in the magical know, you’d think it utterly insane that you’d be forced to pay such a large amount of cash because some weirdo decided to make a new age artistic statement with bricks. Of course, if you are aware of the greater community at large, you’d knew you were paying the insanely large sum because someone decided to make the Salt-Irons the single most protective location in the city.

Most mortals have forgotten their history, their lore and collective knowledge passed down throughout the generations: Why their ancestors used to place lines of salt in front of the door and windows, why the elders always suggested to the braver, recklessly youthful family members to carry iron whenever they ventured through the wild.

Outer beings were repelled by salt and iron. No one really had an idea why fae, angels and demons weren’t fond of salt or iron and there's been plenty of arguing about the subject but all in all the fact remained they did not do well when faced with either.

That was the main reason Finnrick didn’t find himself in the north side of town often.

Well that and the zealous Gate Keepers. Those guys were freaks but between them and the Salt-Irons being the only supernatural community up here, Finn never got a case from the area.

Until today.

The Salt-Irons were great at protecting you from any outside threats that wished you ill will: It didn’t protect you from anything you decided to bring in with you.

It was five in the morning when Finnrick got the call. The M.R.R.D representative didn’t have much to offer beyond the address and floor but he thanked her all the same.

Finnrick yawned tiredly, stretching the tension out of his neck while he sipped his coffee. He let out a sigh of relief as the sun slowly rose into the sky.

The Salt-Irons was a twelve story tall building painted a ghastly pale green that made Finnrick sick just looking at it.

“People are paying how much to live in that shade? I’d ask for discount if I were them.” Finnrick laughing to himself, making his way into the apartment complex.

Luckily the interior was much nicer than the outside: Everything was well kept and cleaned. Not a single speck of dust in sight and the wooden stairs didn’t creak when Finnrick placed his foot on them.

Which was good given Finnrick needed to go up seven flights of stairs.

Finnrick wheezed a little, wiping the sweat from his brow when he reached the seventh floor. He glanced down the hall one way then the other as he began to search for room 707 which basic deductive reasoning suggested should be around the corner.

Finnrick crushed the empty foam cup and tucked it into his coat pocket as he made his way to 707. It was a simple wooden door and immaculately spotless just like the rest of the place. He rose his hand and gently rapped on the door.

No response.

He frowned, checking if he was still alone in the empty hallway and rose his hand towards the door frame.

His eyes glowed with a blue energy as he whispered softly “Revelis”

The door gleamed with a bluish hue for a moment before fading away without a trace.

No protective spells laced over the frame so the only thing Finn had to worry about now if it was locked.

He tried the knob, unsurprised when it swung open silently.

“It’s not breaking and entering if someone’s expecting you” Finnrick justified to himself as he pushed the door in.

He nearly staggered backwards: The air tasted thick and foul like something had been left rotting inside. His skin prickled with anxiety, a chill running down his spine with each step he took further in.

Finnrick took deep, calming breathes while doing his best to ignore the bitter taste that seem to cling the air within.

He noticed the trail of footsteps, perfectly preserved in what appeared to be black dust leading deeper into the living room.

“Hey da! You here?” Finnrick called out, carefully stepping closer “You and ma still married?”

There was a deep grunt of acknowledgment before a voice responded “Sorry son, we’re divorced now. She got custody of you.”

“Well fuck. I guess I’m going to be eating kale and poorly cooked spinach for the rest of my life.”

Garrus Valka was not in fact Finnrick’s father, adoptive or otherwise. He was actually one of the highest ranked officers of the Magical Rapid Response Department: An elf clocking in at 200 years old with richly tanned skin. His bluish gray hair was slicked back in his preferred style. Garrus’s had his back turned to the detective but Finn knew his sliverish gray eyes were deep in concentration as he took down notes about the surroundings. His beautifully inhuman features were marred with a scar on the right side of his face: burnt skin on his cheek, healed by time and various surgeries. An old war wound though Finn never got the full story.

He was dressed in typical M.R.R.D fashion: Dark blue windbreaker, jeans and a blue shirt with the words “Powered by coffee and spite” splashed across the front. His Winchester rifle was slung across his back, ready for any action that may befall the elf.

“Drift.” Garrus greeted teasingly while offering a hand.

Finnrick gave it a playful shake “Da. So is mom here or she trying to smite pigeons again?”

“THEY TRIED TO STEAL MY HOTDOG!” Garrus’s partner Eden screamed from another room “I SHALL BRING MY GOD’S WRATH UPON THEM!”

“You know when they mean justice.” Finnrick called out “I don’t think they mean against winged rats.”

Eden chuckled darkly “You know not their sins.”

“Okay.” Finnrick nodded despite the fact she couldn’t see him “If you say so. What happened Da? Aside powerful necromancy.”

“Powerful necromancy” Garrus replied cheekily “and missing persons.”

Finnrick rose an eyebrow “Persons? More than one?”

“Two: A father and son. Richard Charles and his son Richard Jr. Recluses it seems. Neighbors hardly saw them. Mostly kept to themselves.”

Finnrick pursed his lips thoughtfully “Any magical abilities?”

“They’re not on records if that’s what you mean.” Garrus answered “Never signed up in the academy, not registered with The Council. If they were practitioners they didn’t tell anyone.”

“So what was the spell? I just smell the remnants of spookiness.”

“Hadn’t noticed the rest of the room huh?”

Finnrick frowned before finally getting a good look at the rest of the room: Every inch of the apartment was blanketed with the same black dust that he found in the entrance way. Inches and inches of the substance and that wasn’t the strangest part.

Everything was bent at different and odd angles: chair with crooked legs, the wall clock warped and twisted, the fridge leaning like someone folded it in half. Floorboard reached for the sky and walls split inward.

There was a common misconception about magic. Most people thought spell casters, especially wizards, could command reality to their wills. That magic was capable of impossible feats and it was as simple as snapping your fingers.

The truth was all magic, ranging from divinity to free range nature, was performed on a micro scale. Practitioners did not alter reality but rather shortcut it. Throwing fireballs was as simple as rapidly heating the air until it combusted. Turning invisible was less about vanishing completely as it was bending the light around you to not be seen. Magic was rooted in reality and imagination. If you had the magical strength to perform the magic, the magic often followed your lead.

Of course there were spells that required much more than magical hand and willpower. Powerful magic, like summoning outer beings or raising an army of zombies, required both time and materials. Magic was like any other energy: you needed enough of it to perform what you wanted. The human body could only generate so much magic without dying and resting was necessary to replace any expended in the use of spells. Materials were guidelines for the spell. Feathers for anything with flight, ash for fireballs etc etc.

The other thing needed was to gather energy and store it for the spell’s use. There were different ways to achieve this: Wands, talismans, potions were basically magic soups. The most efficient way to gather energy was the wizards preferred way: Circles.

Finnrick eyed the room closely this time, murmuring under his breath about angles and trajectory. Garrus paid him no mind, well familiar with the private investigators methods.

“If this went like that” he gestured to the wall clock “and that went here.”

Finnrick glanced about, carefully walking about as if worried he was going to step on a landmine.

“Here.” Finnrick found himself staring at a spot in the middle of the room “Ventus.”

He gestured with a hand and light breeze filled the room. It brushed away some of the dust covering floor, revealing the outline of a half melted metal ring.

“What is it?” Garrus turned curiously

“Spell circle. The source of the explosion. I’m willing to bet it’s custom made. Copper, steel. Maybe some bits of tin couldn’t stand the surge.”

“No iron or sliver?”

Finnrick shook his head “That’s for containing or repelling monsters. Necromancy is more about drawing in the evil entities. Or sucking out life.”

Garrus sighed tiredly “Don’t touch?”

“Only if you want to live to see retirement. Might have some pent up magic ready to blow outwards.”

“Understood. I’ll call in our guys. I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

Finn nodded gratefully while pulling out a vial and motioning to the elf “Mind if I do?”

“Be my guest, you might find something we’d miss.”

Finnrick smiled gratefully before scooping up some of the dust and sealing it within the vial.

“Take care Garrus, stop fighting birds Ma!”

“Flying rats!”

-----

The cafe was lively despite being early but that was no surprise given it was Mother’s. Mother’s was the single best food establishment in all Newton Haven and if anyone disagreed, they were allowed to have their opinions.

They were also allowed to be wrong.

Finnrick paused in the doorway, breathing in the scent of well cooked eggs and sweet lemonade. The pop and sizzle of heated grease brought a sense of comfort to the hard working private investigator.

“Finny Drift!” Maddie Copperstone called from behind the counter “How’s my favorite customer holding up?”

Maddie was 40 years young with tastefully curled dark brown hair. Human, little on the short side but fierce. She wore a simple red blouse and jeans, both stained with flour that the apron around her waist did not prevent.

Finnrick bounced over cheerfully, reaching over the counter to give the matron the biggest hug he could muster “I’m good Maddie. Working a case.”

Maddie’s brown eyes searched his face carefully “You always working Finny. You resting as much?”

“Scout’s honor.”

Maddie let out a disbelieving chuckle “You weren’t ever a Scout.”

“Honorary scout after I stopped that bear from eating them.”

“Thought it was a giant raccoon.”

“Yes but people don’t take giant raccoon seriously. He here?”

Maddie clicked her tongue disappointingly but motioned to the booth at the far end of the establishment “Rest.”

Finnrick rose his hand in surrender “After.”

“Never you mean!” Maddie shouted after him.

Amos Frye hadn’t changed much since last he was roaming around Finnrick’s neck of the woods: Handsome with soft gray eyes that reminded Finn of gathering storm clouds. His long black hair was tied in a messy bun held up by a golden pin, a braided strand hung loosely near his face. His beard was much shorter than what Finnrick remembered though he noted the unkempt split ends indicated that Amos hadn’t trimmed it in a few weeks. His iconic dark red sleeveless jerkin and black jean combination would look ridiculous on a lesser man but had allowed the monster hunter to show off his muscular frame. His brown skin was a bit more pale than usual so no doubt Amos had been operating at night lately.

“Finnrick, you cheeky bastard! I am so glad you came!” Amos beamed happily, his various bangles and bracelets clinking together in equally joyous celebration as the two shook hands.

“Amos! Happy to see you.” Finn beamed brightly as he slid into the booth across his old friend “Why though? Family trouble?”

Amos’s joyfully gleam turned dark for a moment.

“No. Have you…?”

Finnrick shook his head quickly “Not a word. Sorry, I hadn’t meant to…”

Amos waved the apology away “No worries cuz. I understand why you’d think that. Coming across the pond isn’t a spur of the moment thing and Os has always been the black sheep of the family. I suppose no news is good news.”

“Right.” Finnrick cleared his throat awkwardly “So what’s the trouble? I doubt you’d call me up for a nip and chat.”

“Rightly so.” Amos confirmed, reaching into the bag at his side and pulling out a folder “Hunting business as usual cuz.”

That made sense: Amos was the latest of a long family whose specialized business was monster hunting. The Fryes had been striking at things that went bump in the night for centuries ever since the first Frye defended the folk of some underground society.

Amos was an average wizard if Finnrick was being generous. That was not a slight against his old friend, it was a matter of fact: Amos spent most of his time honing the physical aspects of his profession which was obvious given the size of his arms. Any spells he knew were purely for defensive or preventive measures so he often communicated with Finnrick for higher quality and complex spellwork.

Finnrick took the folder from Amos and began pouring over its contents.

Most were quickly scrawled notes Amos had noticed about his quarry: Long sliver hairs, canine in nature. Large paw prints found in the areas it had been sighted, far too big to any natural wolf. Wulfvur and werewolf were hastily written and as quickly crossed out. A pattern of hanging out in wild areas, often forests and swamps.

There were pictures too: flashes of sliver, blurs of fangs and muzzles darting in and out of camera frame. It was always a distance away, sprinting deeper into the wildness. It was hard to tell from the photos but Finn guessed it might’ve been 10 feet tall at the very least.

“Why we hunting wolves now?” Finnrick asked curiously.

Amos flagged down the waitress “Contract given to my pa. It was hanging around the marsh lands of the jolly old isles. Someone wanted it gone.”

Something wasn’t clicking with Finn “and you followed it here? From England?”

“Nah cuz” Amos gave a cheeky grin “I tackled it through a portal and found I illegally crossed into America.”

“Ah.” Finnrick nodded in understanding “Fae.”

“Fae?” Amos frowned thoughtfully “I thought that too but I never heard of any snarling wolfie breaking into homes and snatching out wee younglings in them old folktales.”

“Fae are weird.” Finnrick shrugged “Their whole shtick is not making any sense. I had to expel a cat the size of a bus once. Double decker tall.”

Amos whistled in appreciation as he scratched his bread “So fae. Slippy fellow as you can tell. Whatcha recommend?”

“What’s the contract?”

“Banishment. It’s looking like wolfie ended up in the wrong part of town.”

“I think you mean next town over. Fixed a pattern yet?”

“Not yet but I wasn’t looking for one.” Amos admitted “Thought I was tracking some mutant. Fae changes a lot. Magical circles?”

“Easiest way to catch it.” Finnrick agreed “Sliver for sure. Iron would hurt it and based on your files, it hasn’t done anything than thin the local wildlife population. No need to anger mister big bad wolf.”

“Good call. I got some talent to handle a few circles but tracking is not really my speed.”

“I’m on a case but if you swing by the M.R.R.D, maybe they’ll loan you a wizard.”

Amos let out a disappointed sigh “I need to take care this sometime this year Finny. Bloody bureaucracy probably set me back a month at least.”

“There’s always Jaime but she’s pretty busy at work.”

“Jaime huh?” Amos smiled mischievously “I haven’t talked to your sister in a long time.”

“I will curse you.” Finnrick playfully threatened “And not no simple hex either. I’ll make you bald.”

Amos gasped dramatically, clutching at his hair protectively “You wouldn’t dare mate.”

“Shinier than the sun.”

“Okay, okay” Amos conceded “I’m kidding. She’s with Casey anyway. Good couple. Cute couple. He still hopelessly selfless and she still trying to fast track her way to power?”

“Yep.”

“You gonna fix that?”

Finnrick shook his head “It’s their lives. Their choices.”

“Idiots.” Amos chuckled “the lot of them.”

“All you need is love?”

“Spoken true the gospel of my land.”

-----

A few hours later with a brainstorm session completed and a promise to help out the next day, Finnrick left Amos to his work and continued with his own.

It was noon now and as the sun rose high in the sky, Finnrick found himself at the Grimyard.

The Grimyard was the premiere spot for all things magical in Newton Haven: Rows and rows of shops specifically catering to the magic community. The streets were paved with century old cobblestone and the buildings here were various hues of faded brick and mortar. It was easy to get lost in the Grimyard if it was your first time as the Grimyard did not spread out, it stacked downward. Layers upon layers of the Grimyard were actually underground to allow those with issues against the sun to sell their goods and services at all times of the day. Don’t let the dark fool you, anyone with worthy talent or product was here in the Grimyard.

Normally Finnrick would wander around a bit, checking out the various businesses and protective wards around the mile long patch of land but he was on the clock and the sooner he began to figure out what was going on, the sooner he could stop it.

Luckily for him, his destination was right here on the top floor of the marketplace. Specifically furthest back corner.

Knightly Ore was ran by the Knight family. Originally they only sold rare metals and ores which were necessary components for some of the more complicated magicks. At some point the owners expanded into selling more alchemical materials and eventually brewing potions, salves and such for a fee.

Despite decent business, it was the most rundown building in this part of the Grimyard: Broken window shudders with the paint faded down to the original shade when the business first opened decades ago. The humble black door was crooked and creaked whenever it moved

Finnrick knew the owners fairly well but here wasn’t here for them. He was here to see their son.

He pushed past the building, ducking into the alley that led to the lot directly behind the shop.

“Halt!” A voice called out “Who seeks the Brewmaster of the Grimyard?”

“It is I, Finnrick the detective. I got money and I need work done”

The Brewmaster was Theodore Knight, an incredibly talented alchemist who didn’t have the same opportunities Finnrick did: He was pretty tall for his age (14 or 15, Finnrick lost track once or twice) but clearly a teenager given his short lavender hair had a few strands dyed red. His eyes were an unnatural pale blue, paler than the blue of the sky. He wore the usual attire Finn often found him in: A sleeveless dark blue hoodie with a fist sized red gem clasped in front just under his neck and a lighter shade blue t-shirt. He wore black finger-less gloves gripping his brown messenger bag slung around his shoulder. A matching brown pouch hung around the waist of his gray cargo shorts and his brown boots were kept clean despite his place of business was in an alley behind his parents shop.

Theo jumped out from a hidden shadowy corner of the lot “Finn, whatcha got for me now?”

Finnrick reached into his pocket, showing the eager teen the vial that held blacken dust within.

“That’s it?” Theo scoffed, rolling his eyes “I was expecting something…...cooler.”

He took the vial and raised it to the sun. Theo gave it a rough shake and watched it carefully for any properties the strange substance would display.

Theo frowned, clearly unsatisfied by what he saw “You brought me ash? Plain ash? It’s your money but even I think it’s a waste.”

“It’s ash?”

Theo shot the detective a look that screamed how obvious it should’ve been “Yes, ash. Thicker than what I’ve seen but ash all the same.”

Finnrick bit his cheek thoughtfully.

“Look Finn, you know my rates. I dunno what you want me to do but standard fees apply.”

“I’ll paying double.”

The Brewmaster’s eyes narrowed suspiciously “Double for ash? What’s so special about it?”

“Oh nothing." Finnrick pretended to look disinterested “Aside it was taken directly from a crime scene: Necromancy and cast via a half melted spell circle.”

It took Theo a minute to allow the implications of what Finnrick said to sink in. His eyes shifted from suspicion to wild excitement.

“Really?!” Theo clutched the vial like it was his first born child “Necromancy really doesn’t like many alchemy processes. It’s not going to be easy for me.”

“I know right?” Finnrick grinned impishly “It’s almost like I’m going to have to pay double for it.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to….” Theo pouted unhappily “Ha freaking ha. Okay smart guy, pay up.”

Finnrick handed over 50 gold. Theo took it eagerly, his eyes lightening up with glee.

Theo paused for a moment, his face turning oddly serious for a teenager.

“It might take me awhile depending on what you want.”

“I want to know what’s in it. Necromancy requires specific ingredients. After that it’ll be easier to track the seller.”

“And the buyer!” Theo blurted out excitedly “Smart.”

Finnrick ruffled his hair playfully “I wish I thought of it. You keep this up and you’re going to run me out of business.”

“I’ll text you when I have something.”

“Pleasure as always Theo.”

“It’s Brewmaster.”

-----

It was 2 in the afternoon when Finnrick made his way back to the Salt-Iron. He stood outside the complex, tossing the remains of his pizza into his waiting maw and crumpling the can of soda he was drinking before tucking into his coat pocket.

“What’s this?” Finnrick asked, utterly confused by the crushed foam cup he pulled from within “Oh right my coffee. I’ve been really at today.”

Finnrick wiped his hands clean and made his way inside the Salt-Iron once more, mulling over the details of the case as he ascended up the stairway.

Blacken ash cast by a spell circle. Both father and son missing with no indication where they went too. Recluses and rarely seen. Necromancy within a threshold.

It was hard to tell how deeply the father and son were involved in spell. Someone who had access to the apartment was behind it no doubt. Spell circles were the most consistent way to cast magic but they took time to build, set and channel energy. You didn’t build a spell circle without knowing exactly what you plan to do with it.

The nature of the magic was also a mystery: Dark magic had various applications and not a single one was good. Finnrick hadn’t much experience with that branch of magic but there was nothing logical about the aftereffects: Ash spread throughout the apartment, clinging to everything like a second skin. There was no signs of an outward blast given that nothing bent in the same direction. Everything in that room decided to twist in whatever wayit felt like. If the spell was supposed to draw in something then chair legs and wall tiles would’ve been pulled directly towards the circle.

“Curiouser and curiouser Alice” Finnrick spoke to no one in particular.

He was on the fifth floor when he noticed something odd.

Finnrick raised an eyebrow as the skies outside the window darken, black and stormy.

A thunderstorm it seems.

Finnrick peered out the window, glancing upwards to see what was going on.

Dark clouds swirled directly overhead. Rain began to lightly drizzle as the skies boomed. Thunder and a moment later lightning trailing across the gathering storm.

A thunderstorm that formed directly above this building.

Without warning.

“Well that’s not ominous.”

Finnrick made the mistake of leaning closer to the window, peering around to see if he could see where exactly the storm was coming from when it happened.

“Watch out below!”

Finnrick noticed three things in that moment: First, was of course, someone shouting to watch out below. Second was the distant sound of claws scratching something wooden, the walls perhaps. Lastly was the thudding of something falling down quickly and towards him.

Finnrick rose his hand, pivoting on his heels in time to see something crash into him.

It wasn’t much of a contest: Both Finnrick and whatever slammed into him broke through the fifth story window and went sprawling into a freefall.

[sunshineandbnha]

Crush Talk - Deku x reader (drabble)

Word count: 1,020

Warnings: none

A/n: I was looking through all of my fic ideas one day and came across this one. I was instantly inspired to write all of it in one day. It was the editing that took a little longer. Also, I headcanon Hagakure to be into boys (this ties into a small part of this), though I’m not sure if she’s straight, or bi, or pan (I’m leaning more towards either straight or bi).

~

It was girl assembly day. Or rather, the day that the girls of class 1-A decided to sit at one table and talk about 'girl' things. Since rigorous schedules hardly allowed for sleepovers, it was much easier just to chat in the cafeteria.

You honestly weren’t sure what ‘girl things’ you were going to talk about aside from crushes. But there was no way in heck you were sharing yours if that topic ever came up. For the most part, it was just the excitement of talking with a group only consisting of girls. Not that there were a problem with any of the guys. Just a girls only conversation was fun at times and felt much more normal compared to everything you’ve been through as a class.

It started out normally enough, talking about hobbies, then to some things like make-up, dance, then to training schedules and work outs. Though as there became only a few minutes left to lunch, you couldn’t quite recall how it happened, the subject of dating came up.

“I’d like to meet someone, but U.A.’s killed my social life.” Mina slumped in her chair.

Uraraka stared at the table, like there was something on her mind. She started blushing a bright shade of pink that could almost qualify as red. Though, either no one noticed or they simply decided to not interrogate her.

“I’m currently not interested in dating anyone, since my career as a hero is at the top of my priorities. Though, I’m not opposed to the thought if I met someone,” Yaorozo said.

“I’d like to meet a cute boy, especially a nice one,” Hagakure said.

“Meeting them is half the battle,” you laughed. “I keep sabotaging myself.”

“Really? How so?” Asui asked, placing her finger on her chin.

“I never ask anyone out. I always want to be really sure that I truly like them for them. And I don’t wanna accidentally ask them out when they’re not ready. I mean, what if he’s really busy and doesn’t have time? Then I just ruined our friendship when I could have just waited until he was ready. And what if I’m not ready.” As you spoke, Deku’s face burned into your mind. Your frustrations released itself into your words as your statement became more specific.

“Are you talking about anyone,” Jirou spoke for the first time in a while, “or is there someone you like?” She gave you an intuitive stare, making you freeze and squirm at the same time, as if she could see all your secrets.

You paused a tad too long.

“She said he! It’s a boy!” Mina shouted.

You tensed up. But you were determined to act like it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe then they wouldn’t ask too many questions.  You quickly exhaled and began, “Well that doesn't narrow it down too much... actually, that's about fifty percent of the population so I guess it would, but still, that's a lot of people.” You laughed. “It's not like I said he has green hair."

It was too late. You only realized what you were saying after the first half of the last word. And by then, it was too late. There was a silence. They stared with wide eyes. Uraraka’s face went pale and seemed the most shocked. Mina’s face began to light up with a huge smile growing, and you could tell she was about to say something.

You stood straight up and began walking away. “Shoot! Abort mission! Abort. Abort. Abort,” you said to yourself as you walked away.

You made a beeline to put your tray away and quickly head out into the hall to head for class. The whole time, you mouthed the word “abort” like a broken record. You body heating up and tense. Too warm. You almost considered taking your blazer off.

That was it, they knew. Your life was over as you speak. But maybe it wasn’t so bad. At least if they could keep quiet about it. It was fine, as long as Deku didn’t find out.

You noticed him walking right next to you and nearly let out a scream.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you,” the sweet boy immediately apologized.

“It’s okay. I just wasn’t paying attention.” You began laughing, until you realized you were over doing it and stopped. Acting like you were on laughing gas was the last thing you wanted to do in front of him.

He didn’t seem to pay much attention to it. “If you don’t mind me asking, why were you saying ‘abort’?”

Your heart sank to your stomach. “You heard that? Uhh,” you took in a deep breath, “I just accidentally said something to my friends and felt embarrassed."

"Really? What was it?" his beautiful eyes burned with innocent curiosity. It was almost adorable that he had no idea what he just asked.

"I prefer not saying," you decided to say.

“Oh, was it that bad?”

“Kinda.”  You bit your lip.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I just asked you about it again when you said you were uncomfortable with it.” He began waving his hands and you could practically see the sweat dripping off of him as he panicked.

“No. It’s fine. You’re perfect, you never did anything wrong.” Dang it, you slipped up again.

His face turned a shade of pink. “Thank you. Though, I’m far from perfect,” he anxiously refuted.

“Are you kidding? You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met! You’re so nice, and hard working, and devoted. Honestly, I’m jealous. I wish I was like you.”

“No! You’re amazing too. You’ve got a lot of great abilities. And it honestly took me a long time to get to who I am today.”

You both kept going back and forth on your way to class. Any previous stress melted off of you. You had completely forgotten about what happened in the cafeteria.

Just around the corner, the girls watched. They giggled and smiled as if watching a shojou.  Mina pulled out her phone and snapped a picture.

“I’m saving this!” she whispered excitedly.

[minghaocouture]

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x Gender Neutral Reader Genre: Fake Dating AU, Fluff, the tiniest of angst Warning: N/A WC: 3k+

A/N @babiemingoo​ THIS IS FOR YOU SWEETIE! MERRY CHRISTMAS AND I WUB UUUUUU! <33333 I hope this is okay lol. I have NEVER written a fake dating au before so it might be trash T^T but i hope you like it anyway!

Weddings, most everyone loves them. They’re a time of love and happiness. So when your brother called to tell you that he was finally getting married to his high school sweetheart, you were overjoyed!

“So do I need to mark down a plus one for you? Or are you still single?” You knew in your heart that he was just being an older brother and teasing you, but that didn’t mean it stung any less. So before you could stop yourself you lied.

“Hey, don’t jump to conclusions. I’ve got a...boyfriend.”

“You hesitated. I honestly don’t believe it.” He retorted, chuckling a bit.

“Dude, I said I have a boyfriend so you better put down that I have a plus one.” You ordered, crossing your free arm over your chest as you continued to hold your phone with the opposite one.

That conversation was a week ago, and you had yet to find anyone willing to pretend to be your boyfriend. You’d even asked your lab partner Chan! The boy looked so apologetic when you asked, telling you that his girlfriend would have his head if she found out. 

Now here you were, standing outside of your roommate’s door. Hand hesitantly lifted in preparation to knock on the hard word, but you were unable to follow through with the action. You had avoided asking your roommate, Wonwoo, to be your date. After all, it might be awkward and make him uncomfortable and then you might have to find another roommate. You honestly didn’t want that, but at this point he was your only hope. 

So swallowing your fear and what little pride you had left, you quickly knocked on his door. It was silent for a moment before you heard his deep voice calling out, giving you permission to enter. 

Pushing open the door you leaned against the door frame, eyes glancing over the relatively clean room until they landed on the brunette as he sat at his computer desk. Dressed in a simple pair of sweatpants and a tank top that hung loose on his rather slender frame, his thick brown hair was pushed up out of his face and it definitely looked like he hadn’t brushed it today, while his thick rimmed glasses sat snugly on his nose.

“What’s up?” He questioned, eyeing you in confusion. Usually you did your best to not bother him when he’s in his room, knowing that he was usually either studying or gaming in some form and that if you needed him you should just message him unless it’s an emergency. You weren’t sure if it counted as an emergency but it sure felt like it.

“Hey sorry, but I have a huge favor to ask.”

“No.” The words left his lips before you could even utter your request. Without any care he turned his chair back around to face the computer in front of him, leaving you to stare open mouthed and wide eyed at the black leather of his computer chair. 

“I didn’t even get to ask yet!” You exclaimed, taking a few steps into the room and ending up right behind his chair. “You at least have to hear me out!” 

“I mean I don’t.” his deep voice muttered as his fingers clacked away on the keyboard, showing that he was fully intent on ignoring you. 

“Nunu please! I’ll pay for your half of groceries of a month!”

The clacking stopped and slowly he turned in his chair to fix his gaze upon you. 

“Make it two month and I’ll hear you out.”

Two months of groceries just for him to listen to the request, that didn’t even mean he would go through with it. You felt your bank account weep as you let out a deep sigh.

“Fine, two months. So will you listen to me?” His gaze didn’t leave you as he nodded, urging you to continue. “Okay so you know my brother right? Mingyu? Well...he’s getting married in like a week or so and he wants me to go and I-”

“If i have to be your fake boyfriend you better be prepared to do my house chores for at least a month, on top of the groceries.” You knew this wouldn’t be easy but at this point you were desperate. 

“Fine! Two months of groceries, a month of your chores. Just please please be my fake boyfriend for my brother’s wedding!”

***

“If we’re late it’s going to be your fault!” You heard Wonwoo call from your shared living room. You were putting the finishing touches on your outfit for the wedding, having gotten out the best outfit for the event. You wanted to make sure you looked fantastic for this. You were also admittedly a bit anxious that either you or Wonwoo would slip up. 

Sure you guys had gone through your ‘love story’, about how the two of you moved in together when your mutual friend Seungcheol had suggested it, since he knew you both needed roommates, and how the two of you ended up slowly falling in love over the course of the year. It was basically a fool proof story, basically. 

“If you take any longer I’ll just go on my own and enjoy the free food.” 

With a groan you made your final adjustments to your attire before rushing out of the room. You weren’t sure that Wonwoo would actually leave you but you weren’t going to take the chance that he would. 

Though the sight that met you in the living room was not one you had expected. 

Normally when you thought of Wonwoo, you imagined your frumy roommate probably in some kind of oversized sweater, his hair a bit messy and his glasses firmly on display. He wasn’t ugly or anything, but you had never been put into a situation where his attractiveness was fully on display.

Today though, his hair was actually brushed and styled to where the dark brown locks covered just a bit of his forehead. His suit jacket and matching trousers were a rich brown that reminded you of the color of dark chocolate, just a few shades darker than his hair. His pure white shirt was buttoned all the way to his neck and a cross-over tie fit perfectly the finish off his outfit. To your surprised, his glasses were nowhere to be seen and you were fairly sure that this was the first time you had ever seen him with contacts in. Needless to say, you were a bit stunned. This also gave Wonwoo a bit of time to examine you.

“You clean up nice.” He muttered turning away from you so that he could grab your keys out of the bowl next to the door where they were kept. Turning back to you, he tossed them and by some miracle you did in fact catch them. 

“Uh...yeah, you do too.” You said, finally catching yourself starting. Quickly you tried to stop the rapid throbbing of your heart but it definitely didn’t want to listen to you. Probably the nerves. “I’m surprised you actually brushed your hair.”

Your words brought a deep chuckle from the man as he followed you out the door, making sure to lock it behind him. 

“Well, I’m meeting my significant other’s family for the first time. Gotta make a good impression.” 

His words caused a series of butterflies to erupt into your stomach. This was going to be a long day.

***

The ceremony went about as good as expected, your mother basically sobbing out of happiness during the entire ceremony. To keep up appearances, Wonwoo kept your hand laced with his own and to your surprise that was all you could think about. His skin on yours, it was ridiculous how fixated you seemed to be on it.

As the reception began and your brother and his new wife started making the rounds, receiving congratulations and large hugs. As he saw your table, he made a beeline straight for you, pulling you into a tight hug and lifting your feet off of the ground in the process. Either you were hearing things or that for some reason caused Wonwoo to laugh ever so slightly.

“Okay okay you got your hug Gyu, put me down.” Your elder brother cackled before planting your feet firmly back onto the floor. As soon as he let go, his eyes were on your ‘boyfriend’. He gave Wonwoo a good once over, obviously sizing him up. 

“You know, when they told me they had a boyfriend I thought they had made you up.” He declared with a hearty laugh before extending his hand and introducing himself. “I’m Mingyu, it’s nice to meet you. Wish that one had mentioned you sooner.” 

Wonwoo took his hand and firmly shook it, a soft smile on his face. 

“Well, they told me all about you. I’m Wonwoo, by the way.” This part was surprisingly truthful. You had given him a run down of your family so that he wouldn’t be caught off guard by anyone coming up to meet him. It was better than letting him go in blind. 

“Well, you better take care of them or I’ll be on your ass. I’m the only one that gets to mess with my sibling? Got that?” 

“Mingyu, are you seriously giving him the shovel talk...at your own wedding?”

Mingyu looked over at you, almost appalled that you would think any less of him.

“Of course! I’m still your big brother, I’m not on vacation just because I’m at my wedding. Besides, my darling will understand.” The mention of his beloved wife seemed to change his whole demeanor. You of course knew his wife, they had been dating for quite a few years and she had been to so many family gatherings it was almost like they had been married before this.

With a laugh, you gave him a quick shove. 

“Well you better hurry back, or she’ll get bored without you.” Rushing him away was mostly so that he would lay off his whole big brother routine. Glancing over at Wonwoo though, he didn’t seem to mind. In fact you could almost describe the smile on his face as a fond one. It was...nice.

As your brother left, you caught Wonwoo’s gaze flickering towards the dance floor. He didn’t say anything though and a silence fell over the two of you. It was strange, back at home you never had any problems talking to him. Yet here it seemed like your throat had completely closed up, no words able to leave it. 

“He seemed nice.”

“Oh, Mingyu? He’s an ass, but he’s honestly the best brother I could ask for. Honestly, you two would probably get along pretty well.” You explained, thinking about how their personalities would probably compliment each other pretty well. This led to...other thoughts, thoughts of Wonwoo coming to family gatherings as if he were actually  your boyfriend. It wasn’t a bad thought in the slightest, but...it was a thought you were hoping to avoid. 

He hummed softly in agreement, his eyes once again gazing back over at the dance floor. This time, swallowing your anxiety and uncertainty you spoke up again.

“Did you...want to dance?” Instantly his eyes were on you and you quickly covered for yourself, voice quieting down to a whisper so that the only one who would hear you would be him. “I mean...it would probably be good at making this more believable. I also think I see my mom coming over.” You muttered. Meeting your mother wouldn’t be a bad thing, but it was definitely something you wanted to put off. 

Not answering your invitation, Wonwoo stood and extended his hand out to you. His dark brown eyes bore into yours. Glancing over at your advancing mother, you quickly took his hand and he led you out onto the dance floor. The slow melody playing through the speakers surprisingly had your heart racing, or was that caused by the hand that now gently gripped your waist? For your sanity and the sake of your home situation, you decided to say it was the music. 

The music seemed to flow through the two of you as your bodies slowly grew closer and closer until you were chest to chest. It felt like time had all but stopped around the two of you, all you could see was Jeon Wonwoo, your nerdy roommate and the man who was somehow sweeping you off your feet (metaphorically, of course). It was right there, in his arms, that you realized what a bad idea this was. Yet that realization didn’t stop you from resting your head against Wonwoo’s shoulder, eyes drifting closed as the two of you swayed to the melody.

“Can I kiss you?”

All at once things seemed to snap back into place as you heard his voice. It was a simple question, but it still had your heart racing. You lifted your head so that you were able to stare into his eyes, questioning his intentions. 

“Your mom has been staring at us, I think she’s expecting it.” He muttered, his voice low so that you were the only one who could hear him. It was for the lie...he didn’t actually want to kiss you, you were foolish for getting your hope up. You couldn’t find you voice to respond so you simply nodded your head. 

Taking this affirmation, he removed one of his hands from your waist and hesitantly cupped your cheek. You felt heat rush to your face as he inched forwards, almost as if someone had put him into slow motion. Then all at once his slightly chapped lips were on yours and it felt like your heart had stopped. For a second you even forgot to kiss back, but it only lasted a moment. Your arms wrapping tighter around his neck to pull him a bit closer, deepening the kiss. 

Then all too quickly, he pulled back and you didn’t stop him. After all, this was just for show it wasn’t like he was kissing you because he wanted to. The thought caused your heart to clench inside your chest.

“I’ll be right back.” Without giving him a chance to respond, you slipped from his arms and power walked out of the reception hall to the bathroom. Maybe there you could get a clear head and remember your place.

You weren’t sure how long you were in the bathroom, but by the time you returned to the reception hall Wonwoo had returned to your previous seats. This time though, he was accompanied by your mother, and they seemed to be laughing and having a chat. As you approached you heard your mother speaking.

“Now Wonwoo dear, I’m surprised that my child hasn’t mentioned you before! The two of you seem so in love that I’m just shocked!” She exclaimed, obviously amping the drama. She was your mother after all. Wonwoo let out a small chuckle, his deep voice filling your ears despite it being soft. 

“I asked them not to. I wasn’t sure that you would approve of me, so we decided to take things slowly. I realize that’s probably a pretty crappy excuse but, I really love them. So I just wanted to make sure I did things right.” 

That...was not the reasoning you guys had decided upon. He was supposed to say that you were nervous or something like that, put the blame on you. You felt conflicted hearing his answer, but you weren’t really given time to think about it when your mother noticed you closing in.

“Oh darling! I’m so glad you decided to bring Wonwoo tonight. He is such a doll, and you better be bringing him to our family Christmas!” She declared, standing to pull you into a tight hug before turning her attention back to Wonwoo. “And you don’t have to worry about missing out with your family. We celebrate on the 24th so people can visit other families on Christmas day.” 

“I’ll be sure to be there ma’am.”

“Well I’ll leave you two love birds alone. No helicopter moming for me tonight.” With a quick kiss on your cheek and a small “love you” your mother was gone. 

Taking a seat back down at your table, you stared at the decor. A small candle inside of a little glass orb with a circular opening on the top. The way the light flickered kept your mind focused. 

“How much did you hear?” He questioned, you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at him, your heart was pounding far too quickly and you were almost certain he could hear it.

“Uhh, the whole part where you ‘wanted to do things right’.” 

You heard a small sigh escaping from him and your eyes left the candle, watching as he ran a hand through his hair before looking back over at you.

“I guess this is a pretty lousy way to tell you that I do actually have feelings for you. Isn’t it?”

“I mean, kind of? But it’s cool, I did a pretty bad job of expressing my feelings too.” with a small laugh, you reached over and took his hand and laced his fingers with yours. Your eyes met and you saw the sweetest smile erupt onto his face.

“Can I kiss you again?” His words came out soft, barely audible over the music in the room.

“Only if I get to call you my boyfriend for real.”

“I think I can make that deal.”

[willgrahymn]

Strangely Estranged

this is my gift to @romansandersprotectionsquad for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange!! I really hope you like it :]

Description: Remus just wants to make his art, but Roman is still distressed by the events of SvS Redux/POF and it's affecting both of their abilities to create. When Remus goes to confront him about it, he gets a little more than he bargained for. Content warnings: Some Remus being Remus-y type lines, blood mentions (again, Remus), a good amount of swearing, and throwing some shade at Janus. Word count: 2747 I’ll rb with the ao3 link :]

- ’Honestly,’ Remus thought, ‘this painting could use more blood.’

He stared at the incomplete project. It was at least the 7th time he started on something today, but no matter what he always came to a pause.

Roman, that motherfucker, he probably had a creative block. Remus didn’t care much about only being half of Creativity, hell, it was fun coming up with the most gory stories he could imagine, but it seemed like whenever Roman hit a block he just had to drag him down with him.

He leaned back against his wall, tossing his paintbrush and catching it again. He stuck the brush in his mouth. Blue paint didn’t taste as good as green, but maybe he was just biased.

Remus glared at the painting. If it had eyes, he was sure they would be staring back, mocking him. Maybe he’d scrap the thing and use it as a target next time he played with his throwing stars.

He ground his foot into the stained carpet. Whether it was paint or blood didn’t matter. Come to think of it, he’d been at a pause for some time now. Roman hadn’t left his room nearly as much either. The only people he’d seen Roman hang out with recently were Virgil, Logan, and (inescapably) Thomas. Then there was Patton and Janus who hardly spent time together before. Now they never left each other's sides. Remus would be a liar if he said it wasn’t somewhat upsetting.

Remus loved drama. He loved watching people fight and be seconds from either murdering each other or making out right then and there. It was exciting to see people so close to their limit. Roman’s drama wasn’t fun though, it was just fucking sad.

He was pretty sure it would stay that way unless he took matters into his own hands. He grabbed his morningstar. He didn’t think he’d actually use it, but if he had to literally knock some sense into his dear brother, then so be it.

Walking down the hall of the mind palace the lighting got brighter. Silently, he wondered how the hell Virgil had managed to live with the other three for so long. With Roman’s obnoxiously loud personality and old villain accusations, he doubted the rogue raccoon could’ve slept the day away like he did when he tried to avoid him.

He stood in front of a tall, white door. It looked like something you’d find in a children’s movie or fairy tale that told the protagonist there was some sort of grand adventure on the other side… 

How boring.

Without bothering to knock, Remus opened the door to his brother's room. Maybe for Janus, he would have knocked. There was hardly anything that could truly shock him anymore with all the fun little fantasies that ran through his head, but Janus’ wrath was something he would save for a day when he needed that extra kick.

Then again, maybe he was wrong to say that he couldn't be shocked. Not when Prince Perfect’s room was such a mess. Not when one of his mirrors had been knocked to the floor. And certainly not when he took in the sight of the other half of Creativity, sitting there at the side of his bed in his black undershirt and dress pants.

Something in Remus’ guts told him there was something wrong here, and this time it wasn’t because he had been impaled or ate something Logan and Janus insisted he shouldn’t have. No, this was something else. Something he hadn’t been allowed to see since the two split up. One brother deciding he needed to be pure as white, and the other allowing himself to be the darkest black imaginable.

He stepped closer. Roman hadn’t made a sound, not yet, but it felt like approaching a lion. A lion that stood for courage yet fell to shattered pieces of what it once was.

And maybe if he hadn’t been feeling real, genuine concern for something other than Thomas’ lack of flare in his art, he would have laughed when his mind went to Scar and Mufasa.

It wasn’t like he cared though. Concern, maybe. But he couldn’t be bothered to care for his brother who he hardly ever spoke to for purposes other than making him uncomfortable with his ideas.

Roman shifted on his bed, still not bothering to look to see who entered. “I already told you I don’t want to talk about it.”

Remus rolled his eyes. Of course his brother would choose to be a little bitch about this.

“First off, you didn’t tell me shit.” He said. Roman sat up, looking at him. A mix of defense and curiosity in his glare. “Second, I’m not the one making your life any harder than I normally would.” His brother scoffed. “Aren’t you though?”

“You’re the one affecting my work!”

Roman huffed, pulling his legs up to his chest and hugging them closely. He liked the pressure. Logan would probably be able to tell him why if he asked. He remembered hearing a conversation between him and Virgil when the darker first showed up. Something about pressure was a stress reliever.

At the same time, Remus crossed his arms, tapping his boots and rubbing his fingers against his sleeves. Whatever response he had been waiting for didn’t come. Maybe he should leave. Pretend whatever this was wasn’t happening and go focus on something else until the other half got his shit together. That would be a lot easier than standing here, the air of the room suffocating him into silence.

Either way, neither brother knew what to say. It would be easy for the pensive prince to turn around, to tell the other not to speak to him and to go back to wherever he came from. At least it should have been.

Remus bit down on his lip not minding the pain. It wouldn’t do any good to try to beat at what was already broken. “I can go find someone else.” It was more of a statement than an offer.

His twin tensed. “Please don’t.”

Remus just nodded. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. Normally he didn’t have to think this hard. He didn’t want to care about his brother and his problems. He knew at least part of the reason behind the other’s mood was because of him because Roman hated him and being compared to him. Yet still, despite being twins he couldn’t help but feel like he had to care for his baby brother.

‘What the fuck am I supposed to do now?’

He was Dark Creativity, the embodiment of intrusive thoughts and other so-called disturbing ideas and imagery. It wasn’t something that ever upset him, and hell it was fun making the other Sides and Thomas uncomfortable. It was fun telling Patton things that would make him shift in his seat and try to change the topic as if nothing had happened. It was fun to create thoughts that would fuel anxiety and haunt the sad little Side who harbored them. It was more than amusing to sit beside Roman, watching as he tried to do his work and ignore his bothersome brother’s constant suggestions that ruined his fairytale fantasies.

If Thomas didn’t want to use all the available ingredients he gave him to create that was fine. He could manage just fine! Really, the repression only made him stronger.

But Roman knew how to make people feel those warm fuzzy feelings that were like caterpillars in your ribs. Something that looking at it now, maybe Remus regretted not trying to pick up on the wholesome little messages that his brother always cared about. At least maybe then he’d have a better idea how to deal with all of these emotions going on. Even Logan would have done better in this situation.

His brother sighed, sitting up and turning to finally face him. He looked worse than expected. No wonder he didn’t want to see anyone else. Remus couldn’t tell what he was feeling, taking in the sight of this mess. Roman’s brow furrowed, his jaw clenched. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, his nails digging into his skin.

“Why are you still here?” He asked.

Remus bit his lip and chose to ignore the question. “I know you’re pissed about Jan being accepted.”

“Yeah duh,” Roman scoffed. He sounded like a dam ready to break. “Excuse me for not being absolutely overjoyed at this… Manipulative Malefactor being accepted by our very own Moralidad.”

The Duke nodded. Sure, you could call him friends with Double D, but he wasn’t going to be like him and lie and deny that Janus certainly had… a way… of getting what he wanted, whether it meant using others as a stepping stone or not.

“I never should have trusted him.” Roman continued. “I mean, I never even liked him. Hell, right after he revealed himself to Thomas I said I hated him… I only went along with what he wanted because he pretended to be someone I’m supposed to be able to trust, and then he used me again by flattering me with fake love and bringing up Thomas’ dreams. And I just– I just keep falling for it because I’m an idiot and I keep fucking everything u—”

He hadn’t noticed Remus approaching him or pulling him into a hug until it happened.

It was tense at first. Roman froze at contact. Slowly, he sunk into his brother's arms, not caring about the way the material scratched against his face. He just wanted to feel safe.

“What’s happening?” He asked.

Remus wasn’t sure he had an answer.

“I think Patton would refer to it as brotherly bonding, but I really don’t know.” Remus laughed lightly.

Eventually, Remus slowly pushed his brother off of him, still holding onto his shoulders and smiling in a way he could only hope came off as sympathetic. On any other occasion, Roman would despise the fact that his brother was just the tiniest bit taller than him, but right now he didn’t care. He wouldn’t tell him it was good for hugs though, he hadn’t lost all of his dignity.

“Listen, Ro-bro, we’re twins. What affects you affects me too. I know it might not change much, and you might still not want to be around me. That’s fine. Just… remember that we’re two Sides in a trenchcoat trying to make up for one, got it?” Roman nodded, rubbing at his eyes and smiling slightly. “I would have expected a darker way of phrasing that from you.”

Remus shook his head. “I may not think much, but I do know enough to understand it’s probably not the best timing for it.”

He smiled, watching as his brother lightened up a bit.

The room was still a mess. They’d have to fix it up later. Not right now though, he didn’t think his brother was ready enough to face his own destruction.

“C’mon, get your outfit on.” “Huh?” “You weren’t planning to stay locked up in here like Rapunzel all day, were you?” “I mean… kind of, yeah?” Remus shook his head. “Not happening,” He said. “We gotta do some dumb shit to make you feel better.” “Ree, I’m fine now, really.”

He ignored him, grabbing Roman’s stupidly bright white shirt off the floor and throwing it at him. Checking around for his sash afterwards.

“You at least gotta put yourself together! I know how you are about your looks– even if mine are better.”

Roman rolled his eyes before pulling his shirt on, grabbing his sash from under his pillow. “I can’t stand you.” They both knew it wasn’t the truth. Not right now at least.

“I’m going to fix… this.” Roman said as he waved his hand in front of his face.

The prince left to his bathroom, grabbing some of his makeup from his desk as he went. Remus flopped onto his brother's bed. This wasn’t exactly where he expected his day to go. It was fine though. Actually, it probably went a lot better than whatever he originally planned. Bitching at Roman could be fun, but he doubted it would have made anything better. Hopefully getting rid of some emotional block would stop the art block too. It sounded like something Logic would approve of.

Remus stared up at the glow in the dark stars that littered his brother’s ceiling. Roman’s room was less loud than usual. More quiet. Like a heartbeat that once echoed so loudly had suddenly stopped, or a fire which finally died out leaving nothing but smoke and ash behind.

He heard it when the faucet turned on, when a hairbrush hit the floor, and when Roman cursed at his eyeliner.

‘His hands must be shaky.’ They’d have to fix that.

Remus got up again, half-assedly making his brother’s bed and tidying up the place. He didn’t know where everything went, so he could only hope he was putting stuff where it shouldn’t have ever been. Even if he was trying to cheer up his brother now didn’t mean he couldn’t work in advance to cause trouble for him later.

When Roman came out he looked as if nothing had happened. Like nobody would be able to look at him and think twice of if he was okay. It was an art in itself to be a raging storm and to settle down to the tranquility of dewdrops on flower petals within a matter of minutes.

When had he learned to do that?

Or maybe it was just that he didn’t spend enough time around the other to know. Maybe if one of the other Sides saw Roman now, they wouldn’t even have to study his movements or expression to know he had been upset. It would be as easy as looking at  him and recognizing the scripted smiles and rehearsed words for what they were. Was he really that bad at being a brother to fall for his own twins’ tricks?

Roman shifted on his feet. “So… What are we doing?”

“Oh!” Remus bounced, the beads on his shirt clicking together. “Well I was thinking about it earlier and since Papa Patton and Daddy Dee are spending so much time together–” “Never call them that ever again.” “You never let me have fun! But fine. You know how those two have been hanging out more.”

“I can’t let you do anything mean to Patton, he’s off limits.”

Remus pouted. “I thought you were mad at him!” “He’s Patton!” Remus glared, and Roman glared back.

Remus sighed. “You’re so lame, but I guess we can just focus on the snake. Oh! And don’t worry, I can take the fault. Besides, I haven’t fucked around with him in a while and have been waiting for a good day to do it.” He grinned. Roman would have considered it evil, but this, this was pure sibling mischief. “I was thinking we could start subtle like moving his shit 2 inches to the left and work our way up from there. I was thinking about leaving my pet rats in his room and letting them go wild, but he is a snake and I don’t trust like that…”

Roman tried to stifle a laugh. Remus tried not to smile. Remus turned away, heading to his room to put his abandoned work away before anything else. Roman, he noticed, hadn’t followed. Slowly, he turned to him. “Are you coming?” “Oh, yeah I just...“ Roman paused, taking a deep breath and smiling softly. A real smile, not the mask he had given before. “Thank you. For doing all this.” Remus’ eyes softened, nodding as he spoke again. “Don’t go getting too soft on me, Ro-bro. I’m still going to attack your side of the Imagination.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” The two brothers stood there, an awkward yet comfortable quiet moment of understanding neither wanted to interrupt. “C’mon,” Remus said, waving his brother along. “We have vengeance in our hearts and glitter in our pockets. Let’s fuck shit up.”

The prince glanced to himself in the mirror. Now wasn’t the time to focus on his shattered world view, or how his brother may not be as horrible as he thought. Now was the time to have fun messing with the one who had messed with him.

He looked to his brother, eyes sparkling. “Let’s do it.”

[little-bi-kingtrashmouth]

47. a kiss followed by a tight, air squeezed out of your lungs, hug

okay so this basically turned into a mini fic so i’ll put most of it under a read more which i hope works. i got an idea and ran with it, thank you for the prompt!!! please enjoy this tender jovier

John was slow to leave the small room he’d rented from the gunsmith. It was early morning, the sun wasn’t yet over the horizon, the outside world was a soft blue. The lantern that he left lit gave everything in the room an orange glow.

He checked the pocket watch he’d gotten off of some guy some time ago and it wasn’t yet six. It shouldn’t be too hot yet and maybe he could get to Javier before he got any further away. If he was lucky, he hadn’t crossed the San Luis.

Not that John knew for certain that’s where he was going, last he knew Javier couldn’t go back but things change, especially as years pass. Javier was clearly up to something out all this way in New Austin, leaving his damn horse in the Tumbleweed stable. 

John had nearly lost his mind upon seeing the animal, had to restrain himself from shaking the poor stablehand down and interrogating him about it. He must’ve seemed insane, near to tears upon seeing a grey overo American Paint. He’d felt insane at first, it was just a horse and surely wasn’t the only horse with that coat. Except, Boaz recognized him. Of course he did, after all the time John had spent with him and Javier.

The stable hand could barely give him much to go on, just that the man who left the horse with the stable did fit Javier’s description and had basically traded Boaz in for an unassuming Tennessee Walker. It was something to go on, a hell of a lot more than John had in a long time. It had been impossible trying to find any word on the man since...since the last time they saw each other. Especially so because John didn’t want people to question why he was asking so many questions himself. 

But now that he was this close, so close to Javier he was sure he could see him today, he was terrified. John had no idea to know how Javier would react to seeing him. Would he shoot him on sight? Would he call John a traitor? Was there a slim chance he could be happy to see him? What scared John the most was that Javier left Boaz. He sold his horse. A man getting rid of his possessions like that...departing from things he held dear never boded well. Either Javier was running into death and did not want to take his horse down with him or he was planning...John couldn’t bear to think about it. Javier wasn’t the type but it terrified John nonetheless because why else would he have left Boaz behind? Javier loved his horse, would have been lost it if something terrible had happened to Boaz. John could still remember all the praise and attention Javier had given to Boaz after they made it out of the snow. John too had slipped Boaz extra treats to thank the horse for carrying him away from death. 

There was sunlight shining on John’s face from the eastern window of the room by the time he got out of bed. There was no point in putting this off any longer. He made it this far, had bought the horse, questioned a group of people in the Tumbleweed saloon. There was no point in thinking himself in circles. He put his hat back on his head, pulled his boots on and buckled on his gun belt. John dug out a piece of jerky from his satchel to quiet his gurgling stomach and headed out. Boaz waited below and just seeing him brought John’s stomach to his toes. This wasn’t going to be easy. 

Voice quiet in his murmurings to Boaz, he readied up and mounted, leaving Tumbleweed behind. From what he gathered, Javier was hiding out somewhere south of Benedict Point. Someone had mentioned seeing smoke coming from Scratching Post which was odd given that the place was abandoned and John was going to take that and run with it. 

John and Boaz made their way along the desert roads in search of their lost family. It was warm already as he made his way down the hill and towards Benedict Point. He would start there, see if anyone had heard or seen Javier. Maybe Javier was hanging out to get telegrams out, talk to someone else. It was just under an hour ride there at a steady pace. As much as John felt like sprinting until his lungs gave out and he couldn’t run any longer, they would take this ride slow. Boaz knew him and they got along fine but he didn’t want to risk this horse bucking him and running off to leave him in the middle of the desert. He’d had it happen before and had landed his ass in a bunch of cacti and he wouldn’t have it happen again. 

It was just past 7:30 in the morning as he left Benedict Point, Boaz following along the dirt path that hugged the side of the large rock formation across from the station. The clerk had been able to confirm seeing Javier, but he wouldn’t say much else. He didn’t seem to trust John’s intentions and John couldn’t blame him. Without much a fresh trail to go on and Javier on a different horse, John made his way to Scratching Post. Someone was living there and it was near Benedict Point and John was just clinging onto a thread of hope that this would be it, that he’d find him today. 

John had Boaz pick up the pace as they made their way through the desert, the sky a bright blue and the sun blinding at his back. John could feel sweat starting to form and he wanted to lay in the shallow water at the shore of the San Luis. No matter how this went, he would do it to at least cool off for a minute, give Boaz time to drink as well. He pulled the horse to a stop upon seeing Scratching Post. It looked like it was falling apart and the last place anyone would want to stay but sure enough, he could make out the shape of a horse in the small fenced area next to the house. He nudged Boaz back into movement and he kept them steady. He was just a man, riding along the road and making his way through New Austin, nothing suspicious at all. He did not want to give Javier a reason to run or worse, shoot at him. 

His voice cracked as he called out to Javier upon getting closer. The horse was what John assumed to be a Tennessee Walker. This had to be him, he had to be here.

There was silence in response and John’s heart was caught in his throat making it harder to speak. 

“Javier!” He called again, dismounting Boaz and leaving his guns. He wasn’t here to fight, he never wanted to fight Javier. 

He saw quick movement in the house, someone sitting up off a bed and moving to cover. 

“Javier it’s me, I’m not here to fight you.” 

A gun came out first, clasped tight in a brown hand and slowly, Javier stepped out of the house into the shade of the awning. John let out a deep breath, putting his hands in the air to show Javier that he meant it, he didn’t want to fight. 

Javier looked almost the same aside from longer hair and just a bit of extra scruff on his cheeks. He probably hadn’t shaved in a minute. But he was still beautiful and John wanted to run and hug him and kiss him until he died. He must’ve been resting, only his union suit, pants, and boots on, hair still down as he stared John down with an almost unreadable look. 

Javier’s eyes flit back behind John to Boaz and his mouth opened, shock and the hand holding his gun sank down a few inches, no longer really aiming at John. 

“Why do you have him?” Javier’s voice was quiet and John wanted him to keep talking. He’d missed him, so goddamn much. 

“I found him, in Tumbleweed. Why’d you leave him there?” John asked, taking a step closer, hands still in the air. Javier kept his gun up but didn’t aim it again, as if trying to just keep distance between them. Not fully letting his guard down.

Javier stared, closing his mouth once more and looking John over. “That’s none of your business, what are you doing here John? How did you find me?” 

John shrugged, “luck really. I wasn’t even meaning to look for you but the second I saw Boaz I had to, I had to find you Javi.” 

“Don’t.” Javier whispered and shook his head. 

John stopped in his tracks and sighed, feeling his heart drop again. 

“You still hate me then?” John asked. 

Javier shook his head and laughed even, but it was broken and sad. 

“I never hated you John, I couldn’t ever hate you even if I tried. Believe me, I tried to.” Javier lowered his gun more. 

They were only feet away from each other now. It would only take two lunging steps and John could be in front of him again, closer than he’d been in years. 

“Sounded like you hated me, certainly seemed like it. You stood behind Dutch, pointed a gun at me and Arthur.” 

“I never aimed at you.” Javier snapped, “I never would’ve shot you John, honestly you’d think after everything we went through you’d know that.” 

“How could I? When all you would do was imply I was a traitor, that I was a rat!” John shouted, voice hoarse and his heart breaking again. 

“I was afraid!” Javier huffed, sagging his shoulders and fully dropping his hand with his gun. “I was afraid John, our family was falling apart and Dutch…” 

The air felt thick then and John’s eyes burned but he would say it was the dust kicking up. 

“Dutch...I thought he was right, that he would protect us. He’d saved me before, saved all of us and he could do it again. I wanted to believe that things would be okay again if we just...stuck with him.” Javier wouldn’t meet John’s eyes. He looked far away, thinking of things that John could only imagine. 

“What happened Javi? What are you doing all the way out here?” 

Javier’s head snapped up again and he stared John down, eyebrows pulled together looking as though he couldn’t decide if he wanted to say. 

“Dutch wasn’t the man I thought he was. I saw that and now…” Javier looked around himself, up at the overhang above his head and to Boaz, to the horse he’d just bought and he laughed. “I’m trying to go home...to find a way back to something I know at least.” 

John nodded and he stook a small step forward. Javier looked back at him. John’s arms were starting to ache and he really just wanted Javier in them again. 

“What are you doing here John?” He asked again, “why did you try to find me?” 

“Because I love you. I missed you and I needed to know you were alive, that you weren’t running into something you couldn’t come back from because the last time I saw you, you’d run off with my father who left me to die.” John forced out, voice breaking at the end. Javier’s eyes gleamed and he looked away from John, like he couldn’t bare to see what was in John’s eyes. 

“Ever after all of that…” 

“I could never hate you.” John whispered, echoing Javier. 

And it was like something snapped. Javier holstered his gun and nearly lept at John who met him half way and wrapped him up tight and kissed him. John wrapped up tight in a bone crushing hug and Javier clung back to him just as hard as they kissed one another breathless. His ribs would hurt later from the way Javier held him but John wouldn’t and couldn’t complain.