#perked up ears!!!!!!!!!!!!! get distracted nerd

[necromeowncy]

Distraction. 📖

[nouearth]

teach me hard and soft.

pairing. zane phillips x male reader.

part two.

word count. 9.3k.

summary. the constant studying was getting to zane. reader helped his grades up, sure, but was it worth missing out on the parties where he could be dicking down random men and getting black-out drunk? reader's sudden proposition makes him think twice before quitting.

content warning. college!au, jock!zane, top!zane, nerd!reader, virgin!reader, bottom!reader, reader wears glasses, slight dom and sub dynamics, blowjob, dry-humping, rimming, praising, muscle and body worshipping, size difference, breeding, dirty talk, verbal, soft to rough!sex, a build to exposing reader to sexual intimacy!

Tutoring sessions were supposed to bring boredom. Mind-numbing monotony that wore heavy on Zane’s eyelids; weariness that steamrolled his mouth open with a yawn; frustration that made the inside of his head blare as his brain blended your explanations into a pasty mixture of nonsense. One word went in one ear and out the other, and another break would be enforced for the sake of his sanity on the surface. In actuality, Zane knew it was for your own mental soundness.

Yet upon the third meeting of the new week, redoing his calculus homework left him alert and excited—the complete opposite of boredom. It had little to do with the assignment at hand and everything to do with the man who was flipping through Zane’s textbook through brightened and adoring eyes like he was lost in the fantastical world of superheroes fighting for justice from panel to panel. It was you. You and him were polar opposites. Numbers were Zane’s kryptonite, while frankly, they were your super power, and evidently so as you’d complete multiple practice worksheets from Zane’s textbook to pass time. Until Zane was done with his own work.

It had become increasingly difficult to ignore you, especially with the incentive you had offered Zane last week if he completed the extra worksheets you assigned for practice—last week’s quiz was abysmal. Zane couldn’t get it off his mind—the idea of him tutoring you about all of life’s own intimacies. Instantly, an apparition of you; beneath him, over him, kissing, touching, feeling, squeezing, pleading; he snapped back to reality when he felt a warmth over his hand, and another source of heat swarming below his pelvis.

“Done? Looks like you corrected everything.” You peered over the opposite side of the short table, cross-legged on the floor like Zane beneath it.

“Oh—Uh, yeah. I had a little trouble with 4C, but…” Nonetheless, Zane slid the worksheet and a lined paper containing his proof of work towards you.

“Already looks like you’re getting the hand of it.”

It took a lot of willpower to stop himself from smiling when you perked up at the sight of his corrections.

Sunlight squinted through half-turned blinds in your bedroom, the sun bloated and content over the sheets of paper as you scanned them, comparing his answers and work to your own, and surprisingly marked them correct afterwards. Zane had a sigh of relief whenever you did, through briefly, because it would cycle again as you analyzed the next problem. Sometimes a little too long, though. Your brows would scrunch in confusion on how Zane came to that conclusion on a problem, but with a fix of your glasses, you tightened your gaze to analyze his work closer, and you marked it correct. That would repeat until you returned the worksheet with a score and a comment on top.

83%, Nice work! 

It was like you were born to teach. You went over what Zane did correctly, what led to incorrect answers, what was missing in the formula, and what process that could save him the headache of memorizing. Every word came out of you like a story—a purpose to make sense of the world, of the problems you had given him. Your lips were distracting, minted breath tingling the inside of his nose—and god, how he wished he could taste it right now. And so, Zane endured a little longer, opened his ears, and made sure he was attentive, because he certainly wasn’t going to get that reward if he was slacking off. 

“Nice job today! I’ll let you relax since you’ve been working hard. I know you have a match coming up, so…” You flipped through your binder of worksheets, unclasping it with a routine tug, and handed it to Zane. “Just finish problems one to four, is that okay?”

“Yeah. Perfect. Thanks.” Again, it took a lot of willpower for Zane to keep himself from smiling, especially since it seemed like you remembered his upcoming wrestling match. Like clockwork, he failed, blessing you with those pearly whites of his. As according to plan, you couldn’t spare a single second holding his gaze before feeling some type of way. Zane had picked up on your fidgeting—fingers, toes, and all—it was adorable.

Though, what wasn’t adorable was that you seemed to have treated this session like every other session, as if you hadn’t proposed that damn incentive that Zane had been working towards. 

Did (M/N) forget? He couldn’t have, right? He was practically whining his way through when I began teasing him and—

And Zane would’ve been on his way out if he wasn’t so determined and unabashedly brazen.

“I thought I was going to teach you how to kiss.” Zane directly stated. Not as a question, but as a fact. You promised me this. 

You caught your breath before you could choke on the water you were sipping. Instead, your shock was fleeting in the brights of your eyes.

“Oh—I… thought you forgot—“ You stammered through your surprise, and it only made Zane want you even more. Maybe there was regret that you had even proposed the idea, but it seemed like it wasn’t getting in the way of your conscience with how you stumbled to sit on your bed.

Zane followed, a pleased grin growing across his face, almost predator-like, because you were just as eager as he was, and it was exciting to know that he caused you to fidget for another round. “You couldn’t possibly think that I did your worksheets for…” Then, he looked over his shoulder, at the empty bowl on the table. “—a bowl of strawberries, right?”

“Well… strawberries reduce inflammation in the body, and I know you probably get tossed around a lot on the mat—” 

God, his rambles are cute.

“I don’t get tossed around. I do the tossing.” Was that a threat? Zane didn’t mean for it to sound like one. He was merely playing a game of intimidation, to see if you were a man of his word. Even with the fleeting fear that heavenly passed from one eye to the other, whether it was from his taunt or from the evident size difference between you and him as he sat himself next to you, you seemed assured in your decision.

“Sorry, I’ve never been to your matches—“ Instead of acknowledging his presence, you stared at your folded hands, clammy in your lap.

“That’s fine. It gets boring pretty quick. I end up winning them.” Zane edged himself closer to you, in hopes to lift you from the enchantment of your palms.

“Really? Whoa, that’s cool—I would love to see it for myself. I’m sure I won’t get tired of it.”  Knees touching now, and you still won’t look at him. Somehow, concentred even more now, on your fingernails this time. Biting them, pushing your cuticles back. Zane would’ve been annoyed with anybody else, by this inconsiderate lack of attention, but not you. 

Never you.

A drop of silence fell over the both of you. One body hesitated, while the other was quietly pursued. Cicadas buzzed outside your window, passersby laughed in turn from a joke, and multiple vehicles roared, presumably racing each other down the street of your apartment. Zane watched you through all of it; the gentle inflate of your cheeks because you felt hot in the mouth, the bite of your lips because you were about to speak but ultimately rescinded; the curl of your toes into your socks because Zane suddenly put a hand over your lap to tear your gaze back towards him.

When you did—with those quivering eyes—Zane whispered, “Can I?” A permission that lit a twinkle in your pupils, stars mirroring the bright blues of Zane’s eyes. He leaned in because he was immediately pulled in like some kind of spell, a tilt to his head that you naturally countered, and pressed his lips to yours. “Follow my lead.”

Your lips were soft, incredibly supple flesh unfortunately stiffened by fear, an inexperience that Zane would cherish from this moment onward as he adapted and stilled until you’d adjusted. 

“We’ll go slow, okay? Soft. Gentle. All of that. As long as you work with me.” Zane pulled a centimeter or two away from your lips, mumbling while making sure his breath compelled your lips to move. “Your turn. Kiss me. A small peck, can be a smooch too, your choice.”

“Y-Yeah, okay…” You nodded. You turned your body towards him for proper positioning, cross-legged, and Zane followed in turn. Then, you leaned in. A peck to Zane’s lips, your glasses bumped against his nose in the process. A chaste, pure moment of affection that Zane wished could have amounted to more, but he didn’t want to rush you. 

Another one, a smooch like Zane had suggested, and a rather puzzled one at that because Zane was smiling from ear to ear, and you were confused, almost embarrassed as to why. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no… you’re just…” He couldn’t keep himself from laughing. First, at the absurdity of this mutual settlement. Second, at the luck he was given because it had to be you, someone he’d briefly discounted as merely ‘an awkward nerd’ upon first meeting. Lastly, because you were more than ‘an awkward nerd’ to him now. A cute guy, a smart person, an incredibly pure and sweet boy that he would more than love to—

Zane was getting ahead of himself. Just kissing. For now. 

You weren’t going to learn efficiently this way. This step-by-step process only worked on paper, on problems, on math problems, and Zane was done adapting your style of teaching. Zane was a demonstrator, it was how he taught wrestling to the younger kids at his part-time job. And man, were you in need of a good demonstration. 

“—so cute…” With one hand to your cheek, he guided you closer, and pressed his lips to yours again. A bit harder this time, but enough to pull a gasp, a breath, a sound out of you. You parted your lips, and Zane seized the opportunity to claim the soft flesh as his own. He could feel a gentle buzz festering among the joined lips, a spark that compelled you to take its voltage in and pass it off to Zane with a gentle nip. Then, a suck when the bolt of electricity returned back to you tenfold, and your hand—you didn’t know what to do with them, curling them into your shorts for the meantime, but Zane had the experience to know. He held one, squeezed to let you know that you were in good hands, then guided it towards the underside of his jaw, letting you hold him. 

“Hold me if you feel lost.”

“Okay…”

It continued on like this for a while. The passing of electricity, of sparks. Eyes closed, lips held and parted away from one another for a breather, then reunited with a thin string of spit bridging warmth between the two mouths, mutual devotion climbing from one end of spit to the other.

“Just like that…” Zane whispered, encouraged, praised. He was referring to the ease of your tension, seemingly melting away baby the second, but also the sounds coming out of your mouth. What was once desperately vaulted in the back of your throat in fear of sounding too eager, moans had now fallen dramatically off your tongue like they were meant to be, and Zane sucked it right off in fear you’d restrain yourself again.

“Was that okay?” You paused, muttering into his lips. It tickled when Zane chuckled, the soft, thick hair of his mustache aiding the quiver of your lips. 

You pulled back to give him space, to take in the air around you, but Zane had a sudden hold on you, on the back of your neck, gentle but firm, and gazed proudly into your eyes, past the crook of your glasses. He haunted you to the core with that smile of his, stilled your breath for a long moment when he squeezed at your nape, something knowing and mischievous, like you had been branded with a hot iron, his name engraved into the now bruising hold on your flesh, and you knew you couldn’t go back on your word now even if you tired. 

As if you wanted to.

“A natural…” It was distracted, Zane didn’t mean for it to sound half-hearted, but that only meant that he was telling the truth if he dove immediately back to kissing you again, without bothering to fix the slant of your glasses.

You got it. It was as simple as that. The swapping of lips, of saliva, of licks, Zane made it all so easy, and all you had to do was follow his lead. He kissed you until you begged for a break. You kissed him until the rush of blood in your southern region had calmed. 

And it never did, even when he kissed you goodbye. He could spot your erection from a mile away.

It was like this for Zane’s meetings from then on. Tutoring went on as usual. He brought in his worksheets, you lectured him through the problems he’d missed, and you’d check off the problems he’d fixed. After, Zane would have you practice on him, learning how to lead for once.

As Zane returned with better scores, so did you with kissing. You’ve learned that touching was just as important as kissing. Zane liked his neck and chest rubbed, while you liked your nape held, controlled. Eventually, the two tutoring sessions a week doubled and became four, then it became six, until Zane found himself visiting you every day, with fluctuating hours depending on his schedule and yours. Though, you two made sure to free up your time to accommodate. Your lessons remained consistent, but Zane’s, however, had gotten longer. It was his excuse to make up for your inexperience. 

In reality, he really wanted to be your every ‘first’ as selfish as it was.

You never knew there were so many types of kissing. Zane’s lips on your neck were your favorite. The softness of his mouth. The warmth of his tongue. The nuzzle of his mustache. As much as it was a struggle to hide your erection, he knew. You felt comforted by his words that it was only natural and couldn’t be helped. 

And excruciatingly helpless when he confessed, “I’m hard too.”

Zane found you had a surprising knack for french-kissing, and that ultimately became a normalcy between you and him. Once you felt the slip of his tongue exploring your warm mouth, you were a goner. Kissing with just lips didn’t feel right anymore. You needed tongue. You needed his spit covering your tongue. You needed to suck at his own wet flesh. You told him that, through breathless pants, that you needed to explore more of him.

And Zane resonated with an astounding, “Me too,” and left you blue-balled, like always, on the bed.

And like always, you found yourself rubbing to the thought of Zane, wondering if he was doing the same, if he could find a way to during practice.

You would think about the new lessons for the week: kissing positions. It started off simple—making out on the couch, tenderly sharing tongue while you sat on the kitchen countertop. You naturally felt an inclination to touch him, it was the right thing to do, and the longer your hands were on Zane—squeezing his shoulders, caressing those built muscles that had been sculpted through sheer hard work and dedication—all the more ramped up these feelings for him had gotten. 

He preferred you sitting on his lap, the perk in your posture meant that you had too—the warmth of his cupped palms around your ass being a constant reminder. 

You kept it to yourself, but you were at his disposal.

It sounded naive. Wrong. And to be frank, cliché, but it was fluttering to feel so wanted. A nest of honeybees festering in the pit of your stomach, all because Zane’s attention was on you. Praising you for doing so well, when in actuality, you simply allowed him to ravish your neck that day until he was certain that hickies would blossom across the cavas of your neck overnight. Admiring your tainted skin the next day by topping his bruises with another round of painful, but welcomed sucks, because marks had never looked so beautiful on someone. Thrilling because you were a work in progress, and would be labeled as so until Zane had the final say. Whenever that day would come, you dreaded knowing it could end soon.

Zane kept it to himself, but he liked knowing that he’d branded you as his so easily.

It was common for both of you to end your visitations blue-balled—panting into one another’s mouth. Bodies collapsed onto another on the bed at the sound of Zane’s alarm, and every day, you found it increasingly harder to give into surrendering his body for practice. For his friends. For classes. For parties. He was a popular man, and this was the first time you’d cursed him for it, as much as you had been envious of it from the start.

When Zane unwillingly tore himself away from you, he felt his heart jolt with a spark, that same spark that had been passing from lip to lip, and festering in his veins to yours.

You looked at him with such distraught, a silent plea for him to stay. Disappointment laced in those pure pupils, and emphasized when Zane catalogued the mess he’d made on your body. Wet reminders of his presence on your neck cascaded over your collarbone, and down to the middle of your chest. The first few buttons of your shirt had been unbuttoned—the most visible skin you had bared so far, yet Zane had never felt his balls tightened up for such little promiscuity. It was like you were teasing him, pushing him towards the edge to see until when—just when he would crack and take you as he pleased.

That night would be an aide-memoire that you had captivated Zane, just as much as he had a control on you.

“Relax for me,” he whispered into your lips, ignoring a call from his friend with a toss of his phone before using the same hand to push you onto your back.

“Wait, but the party—“ Cold yet warm, that was how it always felt when you were with him. The draft hit your skin when Zane lifted your shirt to smother your stomach in tiny, fleeting kisses. Your goosebumps conflicted whether they should owe their arrival to the drop in temperature, or to Zane’s worship on your body.

“I know. They can wait. You’ll be quick.” Everything was moving at rapid pace. A beast in Zane suddenly unleashed from as he began removing your pants. An impatience you found yourself unsettled by, yet just as equally as desired with the way you followed every one of his command: to spread your legs wider, to keep your shirt on, to lean back on the pillows, braced on your elbows, to look at him, to watch him.

“Quick with what—“ Your mind was cluttered with so many demands, dazed by the sudden chaos of it all. 

He barely gave you a chance to react before pressing his mouth to your hard cock. You instantly puzzled what all of this had amounted to the more he enveloped your length with a sudden gut-punching heat you had never experienced with your entire being. “Zane—“

“Just hold still.” He guided your shudders to his blonde locks, forcing a gratifying grip to his hair before power-washing your cock with his tongue.

Zane thought he heard your moans. Thought he knew them from flesh and bone from the times he’d devour neck and lips like an insatiable scent. But no—these were the sounds he was in desperate search for. Staggered, guttural, straight from the stomach and raw out your throat, as you begged for mercy from the suction of his mouth.

“S-stop, I’m going to c-come in your mouth—“ You desperately pleaded, rock-hard in his mouth and throbbing at the pulse of his tongue. The tip of his muscle flicked endlessly at your slit, beating it with the spit that had been over-compensating for his dry mouth.

“That’s the point.”

You tugged on his hair harder, not away, but towards you. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t muster the strength to watch him, and restrain yourself. That was absolutely impossible with the way Zane’s blue eyes locked with you, determination in his gaze that signaled that this had no longer been a demonstration. Sloppily sucking you off. Beating your wet dick off until it was swollen. “W-wait, Zane, stop—I’m really going to—“

Repeating, cycling, spitting, moaning, praising, urging, kissing, repeating until the thick release of your cum satisfied the grit of his throat. Drinking every ounce of purity out of you because it was a sacred resource. Until you felt completely drained with Zane’s throat at your disposal, the salty taste of your loads nearly costing him his sanity had you not pulled him up to ground him with a kiss.

Or maybe his sanity had already been broken, because he pushed the thick of your seed back into your own mouth when you two connected, and it drew out the most beautiful symphony of sounds from you: the shock of it all, the salty and bitter taste embarrassingly spreading thick over your tongue, and then the exaltation, when Zane sucked it right off of you as a way of saying, ‘I’m yours too.’

No, this had been done out of pure love—one that had been kept in reserve for you, and only you.

It was an open secret to how prone you were to bruising. Zane remembered the shock of returning the next day to an onslaught of hickies on your neck. Marks that you comically hid behind a scarf despite the summer season. Bruises that earned him a knowing side-eye when one of your roommates answered the door to let him in.

“Does it look bad?” You instinctively bared teeth, sucking in a gasp when Zane curiously poked at one bruise to the next.

“Sorry. I got carried away.” He remembered that night vividly—beating off his dick to it after practice. He’d left hickies on many people before. For you, he didn’t know why he felt so fascinated by the wear of your skin—the break of skin solely caused by him.

“Not your fault. Kind of the reason why I never played sports.” Popping open the cap of the soothing cream in your hand, you then began to apply the thick mixture onto your wounds. Well, one of them, before Zane took it out of your hand.

“I’ll do it… Let’s take a break today, yeah? We can cuddle, watch a movie? Anything you want.” Ann apology seeped into the kisses he brought around your neck before applying the cream onto your bruises, finishing what you’ve started.

Not too long after, he’d take you into his arms, your head comforted by his chest, while you went on with your free-time: scrolling through social media, laughing at videos that appeared on your feed with him, chatting, kissing, chatting again.

“Do you date a lot?” You asked one day, knowing the answer without Zane having to speak. Though, you really just wanted to hear it from his mouth, to clarify, instead of assuming everything.

“In high school and first year in college, yeah. But it’s been mostly hookups so far.” Zane found that your hands looked perfect in his: smaller yet equally veiny as he compared, then examined your intricately cut nails. Perfectly trimmed with little whites baring.

“Hm…” You nodded, letting him play with your fingers, stroke your hair, kiss at your neck, until your silence was deafening.

It was like Zane read your mind, because he’d spare you that smile of his—one you had been intimidated earlier on in your life before all of this—and your heart felt like it surged over hurdles during your pursuit to him. He laughed in your neck at the glimpse of your pout, and he would tease you with several pokes to your body, introducing various notes of levity until you broke out into a laugh yourself.

“Before you say it, no—you’re not a plaything.” Zane assured with a kiss to your lips. Whether he was telling the truth or not, you’d rather delay the revelation for a little longer.

You never realized that you and Zane barely did this. Getting to know one another was an interest that had been vaulted from the back of your mind as things were ramping up. There were times where you needed it. A break from everything, even if it meant that you’d fall deeper for him. For Zane, it was always on days where he had too many events to juggle on his plate. Venting to you came first, then you’d pacify his frustration at his friends, at his professor, at his teammates, with a semi-homemade meal, and a movie in bed.

You two would compensate for the lack of knowledge about each other by coincidentally pulling all-nighters. Somewhere among one of those nights, you two found the perfect balance of understanding each other from in and out.

“I came to watch you practice the other day…” His hand was roaming under your shirt, lingering over your stomach, and then up your chest to toy with your nipples. You groaned into his mouth at a tug of one of your nubs, mirroring his actions onto his own body. Though, you were always distracted by how big his chest felt under your palm, preferring to explore the muscular plane.

“What—“ Zane pulled away, breathless and baffled at the admission, because who would want to watch him practice? His previous partners never did that for him. “Why didn’t you say hi?” You looked so delectable under him. Swollen lips, tongue peeking to taste at the lingering residue of spit.

“Wouldn’t I throw you off your game?” You ran your hand over his forearm. Memories of Zane’s sweaty muscles bulging as he pinned a guy down coming to mind, thick veins charging the muscle fibers with a pulse. If those veins had telepathic capabilities, you’d assume the erection in your pants was from their own command.

“Don’t think so. I would’ve introduced you to the team too. They would like you.” Another kiss to your lips before he rolled onto his back, switching positions with you to pull you onto his lap.

“Really? I didn’t think I would have anything in common with them!” You’ve gotten more brazen in your touch. Affectionate. You gave Zane’s shirt three tugs, a magical number to him, and he tossed it off his body and to the corner somewhere, removing the obstacle between your lips and his temple of a body.

“Maybe. Maybe not? I don’t know, some of them are struggling in their classes right now. I mentioned to them that you brought my GPA up, so—fuck…” The steady progression from being anxious to greedy was fascinating in Zane’s eyes. He watched you tongue his pink nipple, assaulting one after the other until either had stiffened, and then his armpit—he never thought you would warm up to practically burying yourself into his hairy musk, licking again, inhaling him with awakening ferocity that Zane wanted to tame. After all, that’s what he’d been doing to you, right? Taming the baby pup.

“I have some free time… Just mention my rates…”

“Yeah—god, you drive me crazy.”

You and Zane explored each other effortlessly—no labels, no commitments, simply out your own free will, and maybe that was the reason why Zane cracked.

There was a droning sound in your room, somewhere in the vent, but you’d never noticed the monotonous buzz before until now.

Zane was angry. You could decipher it from his fist, the cushion of mechanical pencil comforting the clasping grasp. You’ve never seen him angry other than being slightly annoyed or inconvenienced, but the tension in your room weighed heavy enough to pull his gaze anywhere else but towards you. No welcoming kiss, no bantering, no playing footsies under the table—only work.

“Zane, what’s wrong—“ Your voice was gentle. Maybe if he would look up, he would soften at the distraught etched onto your face, fine lines wearing you down with worry, with deep dejection because it wasn’t about second-guessing whether you did something wrong. 

When he reeled his hand back from your touch, you were absolutely positive that it was your fault.

“Are you done grading yet?” His voice was tempered, methodically calm while his gaze never left the screen of his laptop. Scrolling through an endless pit of web pages.

“Yeah…” You pushed the paper towards him, and he glanced at it.

64%. The lowest marks he’d received since you started tutoring him. He was doing so well. Constant 80s. His peak being nearly a perfect mark, and it was all crumbling because of a man.

He sucked in his teeth, a familiar feeling of contention seething in his stomach.

Two men.

It only happened in his matches, and when it did, it signified his victory.

“Hey, what’s—“ Another attempt quickly stolen with a sudden biting kiss. Rough hands roamed around you, a touch that you had already felt nostalgic for upon Zane’s absence the past few days, and then a bite to your neck, a painful mark, an answer as to why you had felt so deprived of energy in addition. “Z-Zane!”

“Nico and Austin,” Zane muttered bitterly into your clavicle. Your shirt was then unbuttoned at flying speed, and his eyes were searching, pupils dilating upon the scan of your skin. Marks of want, of pleasure, faded into your chest and neck like foam to coffee. “—these are theirs, right?!”

“W-what? No! Are you crazy, what?!” You gulped hard, your neck straining as Zane began to match several bruises to his mouth, renewing the plump skin out of spite, out of greed. Traces of his spit matched the outline of your mark to perfection, yet he continued, relishing himself into the warmth of your skin, to the sounds of your panicked moans as you rubbed at his back to pacify his sudden burst of anger. If they hadn’t made a mark on you, then they will soon. You were his territory, his worshipping ground, and he needed evidence that he’d claim you first. “What’s going on…”

“They…” Embarrassment crept his way up to his neck, then his cheeks as Zane settled upon assessing at what he’d done to you. Windswept, that was what he’d described you as you lay breathless beneath him. He’d missed this, yet it was frightening to know that the withdrawal symptoms from not seeing you every day resulted with an uncontrollable need to ruin you. The calm of your breathing consoled him in meantime, and also lowered his blood pressure a few beats. He refused to release his grip around your wrists, but loosened for your comfort, and breathed, “—keep talking about you. It’s been a few weeks since you started tutoring them, right?”

“Yeah—they usually come together… What do you mean they keep talking about me?” On first impression, you’d assume it was about the way you presented yourself. Guarded and reserved to most, but you always made sure you had good intentions, right? That couldn’t be the right assessment, though. That wouldn’t have made Zane riled up, practically eating at your neck from a comment about how you were standoffish.

“Don’t make me say it,” he squeezed past tight lips, forewarning with tense eyes because you were smart. You were supposed to know what he meant by now. 

Clueless.

“It can’t be that bad—“

“They’re animals, (M/N). The way they talk about you like you’re a piece of meat.” He muttered bitterly warm at the underside of your jaw. Yet, a part of you felt like he was kissing to the thought of their ridiculing, whatever they were, and you let him do as he pleased, with restrained silence to hear him, to let him know that you were listening, to let him know that it was getting dangerously hard to focus on his words because—you had no idea when, but his hand had slipped inside of your shorts now, massaging you through your boxers.

He continued after carrying you to the bed, his shorts kicked off to the side, your own after, and pressed himself to you, practically into you as you felt him throb against your erection without missing a beat. “—keep talking about how pretty you’d look sucking them off. How they would like to see you struggle taking their cocks inside of your mouth, both at once. As a reward or something, for doing those damn worksheets.”

“I—“ Your mind felt foggy. All of this information was overwhelming you, plus the friction of your cock against Zane’s much larger erection held your mind hostage, harassing it with violent yet pleasurable rubs as you felt the tip of your cock constantly brush against the scratchy fabric. This was new, and you needed to focus and fixate on Zane’s worries. “Zane…”

“They’d blow their loads inside of your mouth. Over your face. Inside of your ass—“ Zane grunted hard, stroking a hand over your head while rocking into you with his broad body, with a rhythm led by greed and lust. The weight of his motion reflected onto the creaking of the bed springs, and his eyes searched looming repugnance. “—wouldn’t shut up about that ass of yours. How it filled out those shorts of yours so nicely. How they wanted to breed you with their cum, one after another, then another round, and another, until your body had given itself up.” 

None. You were fucking hard, throbbing and solid as he rocked into you, polished his cock with yours, and your eyes—he could see how much you’d want that fantasy to come true.

“Zane, I wouldn’t—“ You whimpered when he pulled your boxers off, freeing your embarrassing boner for him to delight his eyes on. You stripped yourself completely for the second time, top to bottom. It triggered the memory of baring it all for the first time, where you received your first blowjob. You watched in silence, in between hot pants, as Zane stripped his muscular body of his clothing, one by one. Like a performance, a stage that was approaching its curtain call, because you knew Zane only had patience for one more lesson to teach you. Fuck me, please…

“And you know what’s worse? I thought they were just playing around, that typical locker room talk. Told them you were a virgin, never even kissed a boy in your life, and that it would all be too much for you…” You shuddered, feeling the warmth of his eyes analyzing you like a scanner, taking copies of your body and inking it into his mind. The sink of your stomach as Zane caressed your body downwards, the gentle hairs below your belly button, all delectably leading to the unkempt hairs of your pubic area, surrounding the twitch of your cock. 

He could take you right now, but Zane liked playing with his food. Loved seeing the sweat form on your forehead and on your neck; loved watching your chest rise and sink when he wrapped a hot hand around your cock; loved hearing you whimper when his large cock joined his fist, stroking you and him together as one large mass.

“And you could practically see them come alive from that. Drooling, rubbing their dicks through their pants, because all they want to do is break you. Wreck that tight little hole of yours. Make your first time memorable. Two cocks fucking inside of you. Who could say that they got double-penetrated on their first time?” You could feel his heavy balls jump. He wanted to see that too, didn’t he? To see you wrecked like this. After all, he was a saint for holding back for as long as he did. 

“And god—baby, would you call me a monster if I wanted that too? To see you take cock for the very first time? To see you crying out about how it wasn’t going to fit? But you’re a good boy, right? You’d relax for me? And take my cock in? No complaints?” Fingers. You could feel him rubbing at your rim when he brought your legs over his shoulders, one on each side. It was wet with spit, cold against your pucker as his cock jumped at the thought. Your own dick leaking pre-cum in turn.

“N-no—would want you to.” You gulped, a grit in your throat you tried to pacify. Then, a grit in your mind, because you reached over to replace Zane’s hand over your cock and his with your own. God, he was a handful. You could barely wrap around it with your fingers, let alone both of your rubbing cocks. But you tried, and your efforts were met with a shuddering moan from Zane, a shiver rolling up his spine tenfold compared to his hand. “I think I can take it—I’ll be good. I promise—“ 

“You’ll be good? You’re smart, (M/N). There’s no ‘thinking’ when it comes to this. Only an ‘I can’ and an ‘I can’t.’” His blonde locks hovered over his eyes as they casted downwards, addicted to the way your pucker kissed at the pad of his finger. Enamored of your beautiful hand holding his cock and yours as tightly as if your sanity had depended on the two throbbing erections. His hips buckled when you began thumbing at his slit, spreading your pre-cum with his, and that was when he knew he was devoted to pleasing you—when he pushed a lubed finger inside of you without warning, watching the way you struggled to swallow the length of his finger. “Which is it?”

You broke out into a staggered moan. The introduction of his digit collapsing the gears in your mind, having been conquered by nothing but an empire of pure lust, and you resisted, with a tension around the first knuckle.

“I-I can!” A guttural gasp when his finger began maneuvering inside of you, working you open little by little. Past his cuticle, then he would pull out. Then down to the first knuckle, you would then pucker. Then plunged deep to where the webbing of his fingers met, and you would gape. He cycled through with little alternations, fingering you while providing your cock and his the warmth and friction they desperately plead, stroking in sync. 

“You can, what?” Two fingers inside of you, your hole sticky and slick with a generous amount of lube, pistoling past initial limitation. You shut your eyes with strain when Zane pushed a third into your heated hole. He had you holding your legs up now, splayed out with your feet in the air as he flattened himself onto his stomach to watch your hole with an inquisitive, yet lewd mind. Every now and then, he’d pull himself out to taste you, sucking his fingers clean, then endeavoring upon his curiosity with focused licks to your hole, flicking and swirling around your rim, then entering to dig inside of you.

“O-Oh, god—I-I can—“ Your cock throbbed at the sight of his imposing body—flushed with heat and sweat, splotches of red on his body from where you grasped and held onto him previously. You stilled, but your hands moved to tangle within Zane’s full locks, pulling, yanking, tugging, at the magical plowing your hole was taking from his wet tongue. “C-Can take your cock, Zane—“ Upon those final words, he ended his rimming with a loud slurp, then a sudden splat of spit to your hole—perceptive to the lube drying out on your body. 

It was grand. Watching Zane’s broad body crawl back into position, onto his knees, then forward as he lined your smaller body with fleeting kisses. Kisses to the tip of your dripping cock, to your happy trail, to the supple skin of your stomach and chest, to your nipples, to your neck, then finally to your lips, where he spent majority of his delight upon. His questing fingers snuck to tend to his muscular cock, applying a thick amount of lube in midst, a mess on the sheets you’d figure you could later scold him for, and pressed the slick, wet head to your heated rim. You whimpered at the imposing taught, your hole puckering obscenely in apprehension.

“Going to make love to you,” Zane mumbled into the kiss, the other hand fondling your cock to ease the tension in your ass, in your legs, in your back, in the grasp you have on his shoulders. “Gonna make sure you feel full with my cock. Make you think about nothing but my cock. Make you mine with my cock. Make your hole ruined with my cock.”

“Ruin me…” You said with a pleading whine. Your hands caressed his large back, squeezing whatever came to your palm and under your fingertips, and you gazed into Zane’s promising eyes, your own imploring in case he were to turn on his words.

The scent of desire filled the air—one more yearning kiss, to quench the drought of your throat, and Zane loved you like this. Folded in between his embrace, his arms tucked around you as a safety net, rubbing your hole with his cocked, making small circles, your feet over his shoulders—he blessed a kiss on both ankles—quivering, fear and want dancing in the light of your eyes, and he finally pushed, slowly until the head of his cock slotted in.

Your chest lift upon the intrusion as you strain your head forward and groan with distraught. “O-oh, f—“

“Relax… Just relax…” He was barely in, his cock almost slipping out as you sealed yourself shut and kept pushing himself out, but Zane resisted, countering with a persistent push until you’d open yourself up for him again, allowing him to enter you a centimeter more. “You got this…” His words were comforting, the kisses on your chest and neck soothing the burn beneath you, and you loosened bit by bit, though with difficulty. 

“M-mm, u-ugh…” It was lewd, fucking erotic with the whimpers that came out of your mouth, the heat remounting from their bodies reflecting with a fog on your glasses. Zane didn’t want to, but he had to shut you up with another loving kiss. Another peep out of you would’ve unscrewed the armor that had been holding him back from ravishing you completely.

Your scent drifted to Zane, potent and intoxicating, and it was upon impulse when Zane decided that he needed to be selfish, and take you for himself. Your entire groan tingled, the pressure on your opening suddenly too harsh, and your hole protested, the ring of muscle clenching tight when he pushed in more of his cock. “Need you, need you so fucking bad. Need to fuck you. Need to make love to that sweet, tight hole of yours.” Words spilled out of your mouth, his tongue sloppily tasting the corner of your mouth, then chin, and his cock fondled your balls and cock, squeezing, tugging, stroking, because he had to over-compensate. Zane was strong. Determined. And broken. Your body defied any reason to refuse his cock in any longer, opening for him, and inviting hm in upon the force of one long, deep, and guttural thrust.

“That’s it. I know, baby. I know. It hurts. I know… Just… Fuck… Relax for me…” His words were gentle, almost cooing when you instantly caught your breath, and then paused his thrusts with your hands on his toned thighs. Even so, the undeniable proof of your arousal, the throbbing and twitching of your cock, spilling thick strings of sticky pre-cum, was the sole evidence that allowed him to plunge himself deeper inside of you, past your resistance, until his pelvis met your ass. “There we go… Not so bad, right? Fuck, you’re so fucking tight…”

“M-mm, full—“ You felt so full, the discomforting pleasuring hitting you like a lightning bolt when Zane pulled himself completely out to watch your hole deliciously gape, then flushed himself back inside of you with one thrust. Your ass felt like it couldn’t handle any more of Zane’s cock. You clenched tight around his thick girth, feeling the veins throb with imposing lust, feeling his balls jolt and twitch as you squeezed even tighter when he began officially thrusting, whimpering louder.

“So full, right? Your ass taking my cock right now. God, I wish you could see it, baby…” Zane had brought himself up, his posture straightened to feast his eyes upon the sight of the tight ring swallowing his thick cock whole. He was practically salivating, the self-restraint he has had unlocking with every thrust, kissing at your ankles, your feet, as your legs remained hooked over his shoulders. His muscular body—sweating bullets, draining yet feeding him with heat while he flexed his stomach upon moving his hips against you. He made you feel loose and hollow, and your cock agreed with a desperate plea to be touched. Some form of friction around its veins, and you fulfilled it with a wrap of your hand, stroking yourself to the lewd sight before you, to the beastly groans Zane thickened the air with, to the smell of musk and sweat radiating from bonded bonds, to the glorious drilling your hole was enduring. There was wild fury in Zane’s face, of strength and passion, thick veins surging through his arms, biceps, neck, as he held the lower-half of your body higher, and fucked into you. You feared him as you wanted him, taking him like you had promised. 

“Z-Zane! God, you feel so—g-good!” Fierce and untamed, Zane powered into you upon that confession. A slur of sounds you’d make, beautiful in his ears, embarrassing to your own, but Zane made you feel so wanted, so loved, that you didn’t mind baring it all for him. He downed your moans with a kiss, a gulp, a sloppy open-mouthed kiss as he was desperate to hear more of you, licking inside of your mouth while he stretched you open and filled you with his cock. “H-harder—Want your c-cock…” You’d give it to him, delegating those pretty whimpers that he’d happily starve for and feeding it to him tenfold. Whimpers, grunts, and moans ripped out of your mouth while tiny tremors and tingles explode from your overfull guts. You were taking him. Taking his cock. Taking him like a good boy. Wetness trickled out from his pounding, a leak of lube splattering upon the connecting impact of Zane’s hips to your ass.  

“So good. That’s my good boy. Fucking take it. Good boy. Fuck. Take my cock. You like it, don’t you? You love being filled with my thick cock, don’t you? Been thinking about this since we’ve met, haven’t you?” Zane reminded you as your eyes rolled back in their sockets, leaving only the whites of your eyeballs visible. It felt like a punishment for asking him to do all of this with you—this mutual tutoring. But god, if it truly was, you needed to find more ways to make his blood boil. 

“C-close—“ That was how you always jerked your cock off. Rubbing the sloppy, swollen tip of it against the palm of your hand. Rough and smooth, you liked it that way. You would accidentally rub at the most sensitive spot at your cockhead, ramping up closer to your inevitable climax, and that was what you did in this current moment. You rubbed your cock to the heavy weight of Zane’s dick inside of you, the tickle of his mustache on your lip, the crooked, fucked-out position of your glasses, the tantalizing depth his cock had reached inside of you. Zane’s hand skimmed down your chest, stopping over your nipple, where he tugged and pinched with a thumb and a forefinger. Close. You were so fucking close. One hand reached up to Zane to hold his nape and keep him from pulling away from you—because you needed him to watch you, to see you crumbling upon his very eyes. 

“Come… Keep stroking that cock. So close, baby. I’m so fucking close, hm? Look so beautiful—god, I could do this all day. Could spend forever doing this with you. Fucking your ass. Making love to that hole… Making love to you.” Every word that came out of his mouth was a spell that took you higher and higher to your climax. He had his hands around your hips now, his biceps bulging as he powered you down onto his thrusts, and right there—Zane felt it, you felt it. You both hissed when his slick crown dipped to your sealed entrance, your prostate. A little more. Just a little more and—you felt him.

“S-shit, Zane! R-right there—“ You choked out. 

With a subtle angle change of Zane’s hips, you felt his throbbing cock struck your prostate like it was rock, mined it as it you’d been concealing gold and life’s greatest treasure from the world. In a way, you did because you unleashed an unholy moan that sent tremors to the goosebumps on Zane’s body. He’d branded you now, ironing you with his cock, deep plunges deep into your hole, into your prostate. If his hickies was not enough proof of his devotion, you were convinced with the absolute euphoria Zane had sent your body in with the weight of his cock. You thought you knew ecstasy, thought you knew what it was like to be pleasured and fulfilled—but this was an entirely different level. 

“Shit, baby. I need to come inside—“ He was ruined. Zane was fucking ruined. HIs hips on autopilot. Large, rough hands roamed your body, squeezing whatever came into his palm. He helped you in stroking your cock with one hand, the other playing with your nipples, or squeezing your waist, or squeezing your throat. He didn’t know what to do. He was delirious, fucked out of his mind, and all that mattered was that it was with you. 

“P-Please—Come inside me, please—“ You managed to gather yourself and plead with him. As if he would ever deny that opportunity. But you needed Zane to know that you desperately wanted him just as much as he did. You wanted him in there. You wanted his loads desperately sticking inside of you, filling and keeping you warm even if his cock had abandoned your hole.

Your pupils were blown out, Zane’s blue eyes glowing as the size of his shaft stretched your flesh out, stirring the inside of your hole, kissing your prostate with every thrust. He held you close, arms clasped around your neck to fold you toward him. He had you whimpering with overwhelming sensations, the stretch of your legs and back forgiving because Zane was deep inside of you, turning you in and out like he had promised, overpowering any pain in your body while he circled his hips. Upon watching him, you’d never seen someone looked so pleased, so determined, impaling you with his cock over and over, brushing your body with his rough hands, and on the nth stroke of your cock, so relieved as he indulged on your endurance for as long as he could, before spilling his thick load inside of you. Not a second after, you chased after him in pursuit, your cum sprouting from your cock in six shots, Zane doubling that amount in your ass.

You both shared a deep, guttural moan, wallowing in your shared orgasm with a long, gratifying kiss while Zane continued to dump himself inside of you, panting, refusing to catch up on his breath, and stripping you the chance to do the same as he began moving his hips again. Languidly for the rest of time, but you felt his cum pushing deeper into you, warming up your guts with the help of his cum-covered cock. Your body was at his disposal, and he seized the opportunity to remind you that it was no longer your body, but his.

“You okay?” Slowly, he unfolded your body until it was flattened with the weight of his body collapsed on top of yours. You could feel his heartbeat, his muscular chest slick with sweat pressing to yours, slowly but surely coming down from its high. He was unwilling to pull himself out of you, the warmth of your hole around him nearly lulling him to sleep. Exhaustion in his eyes, but he mustered up enough strength to take care of you, stroking your hair back after licking your cum off your body in midst of repositioning.

You kissed him again, wanting to taste yourself off his tongue, and Zane accepted that as an answer, laughing into your mouth. “I’ve taught you well, haven’t I?”

“Couldn’t have asked for a better tutor.” You mumbled sleepily, hiding the blush in your cheeks into his shoulder while fatigue struck the muscles in your body until it begged for a rest. You wrapped your arms around him, embracing his large body into your own. His warm smell, his soothing voice, his adoring touch—you couldn’t fathom going back to a life without Zane in your life, teaching you about anything and everything, just as you did for him. It made your chest swell at the thought, your heart twisting itself until it began to hurt. But Zane kissed you once more, something that felt perpetual, and you’d calm.

“What are you doing for the summer?” He whispered, nuzzling his mustache against your cheek like you liked. He fixed the crook of your glasses with a twist, impressed by how they hadn't fallen off the entire time he was fucking into you.

“Working… Tutoring’s still in session for the summer classes, so I’ll be here.” You nodded, and he hummed in response. There was a brief silence, you’d reckon that could hear him thinking if you had the skills to.

“So… you know how I wanted you to meet the team? Maybe we could do that over the summer. What do you think? Think it’s only right to introduce my boyfriend to my best friends.” Nibbling on your ear now. You squirmed, ticklish as the tiny bristles of his mustache brushed against places that had never been touched. His smile only made it worse, the curve of the hairs grazing over your lobe and the shell of your ear.

“I’m your boyfriend?” It was impossible to stop yourself from smiling from ear to ear. The label made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside.

“You didn’t think I did this all because I wanted to have sex with you, did you? I mean, it’s been months—“

“No, no—I was just…” You shook your head to shrug off even trying to reason with your confusion. “What about Nico and Austin? They were being kind of—“

Deceitful fingers spidered over the span of your belly. Lower, and lower. A roguish smile slowly formed on his face as he began fondling your sensitive flaccid cock. He then turned to you, gently pressing your nose to his. 

“We can talk about that when the time comes.”

“When the time comes for—“

“You’ll see.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[biancadjarin]

💕Competing for Eddie’s attention💕

You and your best friend were playing truth or dare when you discovered you both have the same crush. Eddie Munson. Yes, he’s the resident school “freak” and D&D nerd but he’s also the guy you buy weed from. And he’s so different outside of the confines of Hawkins High. He can give you butterflies with just a look and loves to flirt with you when you’re alone in his room to pick up. There was even the time when you were hugging him goodbye and he held you a little too long and you swear you felt something throbbing in his pants.

So when you and Sasha call Eddie to come drop off some weed at your place, you come up with a little wager. “So when he gets here we’ll let him decide right? And whoever he picks, we won’t get upset. Deal?” You ask. “Deal.” Sasha responds. You smile knowing you’re going to win. There’s no way Eddie likes anyone else at school as much as he likes you.

“Wow your house is really nice y/n.” Eddie says as he follows you to your bedroom. “Thanks Eddie. I can’t believe I’ve never had you over before to watch a movie or something.” You say flirtasouly as your hand reaches for your bedroom door. Eddie nods slowly as his eyes take in your body in front of him. “Y-yeah.” He says, his voice sounding a little distracted, “I’d like that.” His eyes are still on your hips when you push through the door and smile at Sasha. “You know Sasha right Eddie?”

If Eddie is caught off guard seeing someone else in your room, he doesn’t show it. “Oh yeah, hey Sash.” He smiles a dimpley smile at her. You furrow a brow as you watch him look her over also. “I should’ve known the two prettiest girls at Hawkins would be friends.” Sasha giggles and you hold back the flames rising in your throat as you give him a tight lipped smile. “Yep. Me and Sasha are super close. We’re having a little slumber party tonight so…” you brush past Eddie, letting your hand graze his forearm, “that’s why we need something to get the party going.” You grab a $20 bill from your desk and walk back to hand it to him. Eddie reaches into the pocket of his tight jeans and pulls out a baggie full of green. “I could pay you with this…” you start, looking over your shoulder at Sasha, giving her a wink and nudging her to come stand next to you. “Or… you can pick who you think is hottest and whoever wins will…” you turn to Sasha and lean in to whisper in her ear, never breaking eye contact with Eddie, who’s starting to sweat.

Sasha nods to you and you both giggle. “Whoever wins will suck your dick. That should be worth at least $20 right?” Eddie’s mouth is hanging open as he stares at the 2 of you. “Wait-what?” He asks. “You guys want to…?”

“We’re dying to.” You smile at him. “So? Who will it be?” He looks into your eyes for an extra second, internally panicking, wondering if he’s being tricked in some way. He looks back and forth between the 2 of you and lets out an “uhhhh….” as he contemplates.

“Maybe this will help you decide.” You say as you pull your T-shirt over your head, leaving you in your white, unlined lace bra. Perked nipples pushing up against the fabric. Sasha follows suit, her tanned skin contrasted with a red bra. Eddie lets out a soft “fuck.” as he takes in the 4 boobs in front of him but he still can’t decide. He wants to pick you, he really does but he doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. And it’s not that he’s not attracted to Sasha. You’re both insanely hot. But he just likes you more. This is too hard. And he’s also getting too hard. Things like this only happen when he’s alone in his room, eyes closed and his hand pumping his hard cock while impossible fantasies play in his head. But this isn’t a fantasy. It’s real.

He puts a hand on each of your hips, his calloused fingertips rubbing the soft skin. He looks at Sasha, stares at her lips and leans forward, letting his lips meet hers. You instantly deflate and can’t help the brow furrowing pouty expression forming on your face. But Eddie pulls away from her and looks over at you. His bedroom eyes and goofy smirk not doing much to simmer the raging wildfire of jealousy you’re feeling. Until he leans into you and kisses you also. You hear a distant scoff from Sasha but your brain doesn’t comprehend it. All you can focus on is Eddie’s soft lips and the tip of his nose brushing yours. The hand resting on your hip squeezes softly as he pulls back and looks into your eyes. You can’t hide the disappointment on your face, glaring at him.

He chuckles at your cute irritated face and leans close to your ear and whispers “Of course I choose you princess but why don’t we have a little fun with your friend first?”

Like for a part 2 so I know there’s interest! Thanks for reading 💕

[just-a-creep-babe]

Grand Opening

(Jeff the Killer x Red) (OC)

Commissioned by @falling-electricxangel -- tysm, I hope you enjoy! And happy birthday to that special someone!! 😉💝💌✨

Masterlist: x

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Rain patters down the mansion’s large double-arched windows

It’s dark and gloomy outside, as it has been for the past couple of days now, with no signs of it slowing down or stopping anytime soon

For the first few days, the rain had been pleasant; it was calm and peaceful, and the constant drumming of water against the roof made for some nice ambient sounds

But it was starting to get old, and at this point, you’re craving some kind of action

In an attempt to distract yourself, you hum softly as you wander through the vacant halls

Surely, you think, there must be some kind of mischief you can stir up~

Without necessarily meaning to, your aimless wandering brings you right down to your boyfriend's room

Door open just a crack, you push it all the way open to reveal Jeff hunched over his monitor, too engrossed in some first-person shooter to notice you

You roll your eyes with a smile

Leaning against the doorframe, you wonder how long it’ll take him to realize he’s being watched

You idly count the seconds ticking by, watching as he unloads a cartridge into another player, and you have to hold back a laugh at the obscenities he hisses in his concentration

He manages to kill a few enemies, but then another player sneaks up on him and unleashes an onslaught of bullets when he least expects it

The screen turns red and he panics, button-mashing like his life depends on it

But even despite his frantic efforts, it doesn’t take long for his health to drop to zero, and he’s quickly met with the dreaded Game Over screen

"Fuck! Fucking shit! I'm gonna cut your fucking guts open and piss in them, you little twerp!"

He throws his controller down and spins around in his chair, only to finally realize he's not as alone as he once thought

You can't help it any longer; you burst out laughing

"Oh my god—you're such a nerd!"

You laugh so hard that tears form in your eyes, and you have to double over and clutch your stomach to stop it from cramping

"Tch," Jeff clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Laugh all you want, that guy was hacking"

His comment only makes you laugh even harder

By the time you’ve gathered yourself, you realize Jeff has his arms folded over his chest and he doesn't look nearly as amused as you are

"I'm glad you're so entertained watching me die," he huffs sarcastically

"Aw, c'mon,” you coo playfully as you approach him, "don't be upset. You'll get 'em next time"

It’s a half-sarcastic, half-genuine comment that leaves him just vulnerable enough to let you sit on his lap

When you run your fingers through his hair, he grunts, and he seems to relax into your touch

"You're lucky I like you," he mutters, "And you're lucky I'm such a good boyfriend, to top it all off, too"

"Aw yeah?" you tease, nails scratching at his scalp, "I'm that lucky?"

"Mmh, that's right,” an unexpected smirk finds its way to the scars in his cheeks as he hums, “You're damn fuckin' lucky, because I'm the best thing you'll ever be able to lay your hands on. Ever"

You snort

"Oh yeah, you think so? You think you're that good?"

He hums again

"Yep. You wanna know how I know I'm that good?"

You arch your brow

Even though it somehow feels like he’s about to trick you into something, you still take the bait and ask

"How?"

"Because I know just what you like and just what you need"

It's your turn to huff sarcastically this time

"That so?"

"Yeah, that's right, sweets. I know you're just about bored out of your mind right now, and I know you need to get out of the mansion after being cooped up for so long. Isn't that right?"

Your ears perk up, suddenly liking where this might be headed

"And," Jeff continues, "being the best boyfriend I am—the best boyfriend ever, might I add—I've decided; I'm taking you to the aquarium today"

"What?! Really!?"

With a smug, self-satisfied grin, Jeff hums

"Mhm, that's right. There's a new one opening in a few weeks not too far from here, and I've blocked out my whole schedule to take you there today. Aren't I just the greatest?~"

"Wait—what? Today? Didn’t you just say it’s only opening in a few weeks?”

Jeff snorts, rolling his eyes

"What? You're telling me you're too chicken shit to break in a little early for our own personal, private grand opening?"

He flashes a dangerous sharp-toothed smile, one you've come to grow so fond of over time, and you find yourself returning a mischievous grin in response

“Oh, I’m so in"

The trees provide decent cover from the rain as you trek through it, and once in the city, you huddle with Jeff beneath an oversized umbrella to avoid getting drenched

There aren't many people milling about in this kind of weather, but the umbrella also helps conceal your identities—just in case someone might recognize you

It isn't long before you end up standing in front of a large vacant building on the outskirts of the downtown neighborhood

The building clearly isn't new, but it's been renovated and expanded to fit its new role, and it gives the whole place a very quaint, rustic kind of charm

You hum appreciatively as the two of you make your way up the front stairs

You act natural, just like you belong, when you check the front door

And when it's, inevitably, locked, you discreetly creep around to the back of the building

The emergency door is also locked, but neither of you lose hope as you spot a window hatch with an old-fashioned locking mechanism

Jeff presses his shoulder against it, testing the lock, and when he realizes he could break through it without shattering the glass, he pushes against it

"Wait—" you stop him before he can force it open, "what if it's alarmed?"

Jeff pauses for a moment to consider his options

But then he shrugs, pushes against it, and rams his shoulder into it

The lock jostles, wood creaking uncomfortably, and with another hard push, the mechanism gives way and the window pops open with a thunk!

Both you and Jeff look at each other

A tense beat of silence passes as you strain your hearing for any kind of alarm system

But when you hear nothing except rain pitter-pattering onto wood and concrete, Jeff gives another shrug

"Oh well, we'll just make a run for it if we hear anyone coming"

With that being said, he climbs through the opening, then reaches back to extend a hand

"How romantic," you tease

As soon as you're in the building, excitement starts bubbling in your veins

"What do you think we should see first? Think they've gotten all the fish in yet?"

"They fucken' better. C'mon—" without letting go of your hand, he starts leading you deeper into the building, "I wanna see if they've got piranhas"

The space you came in through seems to be some kind of employee access

There's a door to the left, a breakroom to the right, and then a long corridor up ahead

Jeff leads you through the corridor without hesitation

And even though it's dark inside the building, you can still see relatively easily, especially with the emergency lights scattered around the place

You walk by some open storage rooms, and with a quick glance inside, you spot various tank-cleaning equipment and different decorations like rocks and plants

The hallway turns, and as you follow along its path, that's when the smell hits you

You gag, pressing the sleeve of your oversized hoody to block your mouth and nose

"The fuck is that?" you cough

Living in the mansion with the kinds of people that cohabit the place, you've grown quite accustomed to foul odors—but this, this is different

Even through your clothes, the smell seems to seep through, and no matter how you try to breathe, it's like you just can't avoid it

Jeff sniffs the air and grimaces

He spots a room off to the side that's sealed off with a thicker, heavier-looking door, and he nudges his head toward it

You both approach it and, surely enough, the smell grows even worse

Jeff, however, doesn't even hesitate to turn the handle and push the door wide open

As soon as he does, the cause of the smell becomes obvious

Dozens of freezers line the interior of the room, each and every one of them filled with dead fish and visceral mush behind their frost-covered windows

There's a large sink off to the corner, which is still stained red with fish guts, and even despite the various cleaning products littering the room, it still reeks

"Oh my god, that's fucking horrible. Close the door, I don't think there are any piranhas in there"

Jeff snickers at your reaction

"Of all the things you've seen and smelled in your life—fish guts are where you draw the line?"

"There’s enough nasty shit at the mansion as is—I'd rather not have to deal with this sorta thing outside of it too!" you retort with a hiss

It almost looks like he’s about to tease you further, but with a chuckle, he shuts the door close with a firm click

You exhale in relief

“Christ, that was horrible”

Eager to put some distance between the stench and yourself, you continue through the corridor until it leads to a set of wide double doors

Jeff pushes it open, and it gives way to the main room of the establishment

And it’s absolutely massive

A reception area with a wide counter stands at the front of the room to greet guests

Posters and decorations are half strung up around the place, the other half still littering the floor and waiting to be put up

Even the ceilings are high, with banners and plastic fish hanging down to give the impression of being submerged underwater

But what immediately catches your attention is the entrance to the exhibit itself

Neither of you say anything, but you’re thinking the same thing—last person to make it there loses

You both dash through the room as fast as you can

The distance isn't all that far, and you both took off around the same time, so there’s no clear winner

But you still rub it in his face that you were faster—because of course you do—and he still argues that he was faster—because of course he does

Your bickering is only cut short when you notice what kind of room you're in

"Woah"

It's only about one-third of the size of the main room, but it's infinitely more impressive

Because instead of walls at the back, there are dozens of massive floor-to-ceiling tanks, each and every one of them filled with countless different species of fish

The tanks have faint lights in them, which almost seem to make them glow, and the way the water refracts the light casts waves against the walls themselves

Combined with the sounds of the rain still pattering against the building, the whole thing makes you feel like you're in one of those dreams you used to have as a kid

It’s almost surreal

You walk to the center of the room and spin around to see every tank at once

And it feels like you're floating, like you're underwater but you're still breathing

Seeing the exhibit without a crowd only makes it all the dreamier

And since they're not constantly getting stimulated by a swarm of guests, the fish seem perfectly at ease

They swim freely near the glass, with none of them hiding or shying away from you

It's one of the coolest things you've seen in a long, long time

You're so absorbed in taking it all in that you don't even notice Jeff isn't paying the exhibit too much mind

Because the only thing he's looking at is you

You rush up to one of the tanks to get a better look at some of the species

A school of colorful fish swims aimlessly among some dark green aquatic plant

The light from within the tank bounces off their scales, and they almost seem to glitter like gemstones in the dark blue water

When you turn your head, you find a long, almost serpent-like fish weaving through the water in the next tank over, and you don't even hesitate to race up toward it next

You don't know if you're merely imagining it, but as you watch it, its eyes almost seem to follow your movement, like it's equally intrigued by you as you are by it

"Hey look," Jeff's voice suddenly snaps your attention back to the room, "this one kind of looks like you"

You turn to see what he's talking about

He's standing next to a tank on the opposite side of the room, and as you get closer, he points next to him

A flat-looking reddish orange-colored fish swims around near some rocks

It somehow has an angry-looking expression, and the way its mouth bobs open and closes almost makes it look like it's complaining about something

You snort

"Funny"

You turn around to look through the tanks again, this time, in search of a fish that resembles your boyfriend

Bingo

"Look Jeff," you call out to him as you walk up to a different spot, "found ya"

You point to what just might, respectfully, be the dumbest-looking fish you've ever seen

Its eyes are wide and empty, like it doesn't have a single thought in its tiny little fish head, and it seems to bob around with absolutely no awareness of its own existence whatsoever

The more you stare at it, the funnier it looks

And when Jeff walks up next to you, you burst out laughing at his expression

The fish also seems to take notice of Jeff, and for a second, the two almost look like they're both confused by one another

"A fish-brain looking at a fish-brain!"

You burst out laughing again

"Ya think you're so funny, don't'cha!?"

Done getting ridiculed, Jeff grabs you, picks you up, and tosses you over his shoulder like a sac of potatoes

"Hey! Put me down!"

You laugh even harder as he smacks your ass, then starts walking off to god-knows-where

"Help! I'm getting kidnapped by a fish-brain!!"

Another smack! has you dissolving into another fit of laughter

"I'm bout to turn you into a chum and eat you if you don't behave!"

"...Promise?"

Smack!

You giggle as he carries you through the room

And you let yourself get carried into another corridor before he eventually sets you back down

The layout of this new room is strikingly different from the last

It's long, but it isn't very wide, and instead of the exhibit wall being separated by a bunch of small tanks, there's a single large tank at the back with a bunch of chairs facing toward it

It doesn't take long for you to notice it; you're standing in front of a tank of predators

"Holy shit"

You step up closer and press your hands up to the glass

Sharks

They're big

Scratch that—they're massive

Long, sleek bodies that move effortlessly through the water, they're pure displays of strength and grace

They're beyond impressive

It's almost like staring at dinosaurs; impossibly old and powerful and utterly deadly

Deeper into the tank, two smaller sharks, which you assume to be younger, playfully nip back and forth at one another

And even though they're considerably smaller than the others, it's still impressive to see their rows upon rows of sharp teeth jut out whenever they open their jaws wide

You lean in closer, the tip of your nose nearly touching the glass to get a better view

There are so many of them

And the tank is, thankfully, huge; it's big enough to comfortably fit about half a dozen sharks, from the looks of it

You're scanning the water in an attempt to find every specimen in the exhibit, when one of the bigger sharks takes an interest in you

It comes up close to the glass, fully facing you, and you swear you can see countless years of wisdom in its eyes as your sights meet

You're so engrossed in the contact that you fully jump when a pair of hands wrap around your waist

The warmth of Jeff's body presses against your backside, his head coming to rest on your shoulder

"I think," he hums, "if we were any kind of fish, we'd both be sharks. Fast, strong, and fearless. Top of the fuckin' food chain—perfect killing machines"

A shiver dances along your spine

You don't know how long, exactly, the two of you stay there, appreciating the beauty of the ancient apex predators before you

If it were up to you, maybe you'd stay there forever

But when you hear a noise echo from somewhere further within the building, both you and Jeff freeze, and you know your time at the aquarium is just about over

"Shit" you hiss, and then you motion in the direction opposite from where the sound came from, "Come—this way"

You expect him to follow along, but instead, he stops you in your tracks by grabbing hold of your arm and turning you to face him once more

"Why run?" he asks gruffly, and as if to prove a point, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his knife

You purse your lips

"Jeff..." you hesitate, your eyes flickering nervously behind him, "there's going to be a grand opening soon, right?"

"So?"

"So I don't want this place to shut down because of a murder; I don't want it to get a bad rep, and I don't want it to lose funding because people are too scared or superstitious to visit"

He seems to contemplate your words, and when he realizes how much this means to you, he gives in with a huff

It's all the response you need as you take his hand and start guiding him through the exhibit

You wish you could stay and enjoy everything the aquarium has to offer, but you know it's only a matter of time before whoever came by realizes you broke in—and you're still inside the building

Rushing through one corridor brings you to the next, which brings you to another room that leads to another hallway

You can almost swear you're starting to hear the echoing of footsteps behind you

You eventually push through a set of double doors, and without meaning to, you audibly gasp at where you've ended up

The gift shop!

Jeff groans

"Red—no! We don't have time!"

He grabs your hand and pulls you away, much to your dismay

"Just—just one quick peek. I'll make it fast, I promise!"

"If you don't want these guys behind us to end up as fish bait, we gotta go—now!"

You're about to protest again when you hear the footsteps getting closer, the sound now accompanied by two voices talking in a panic

“Fine, fuck it,” you mutter

You rush to the exit door, ignoring the various toys, candies, plushies, and trinkets trying to tempt you from every angle

And you successfully make it to the door, where you push it open and escape scott-free

Or, at least, you would, if the damn door didn't jam as soon as you pressed against it

"Fuckin' shit—ain't no feckin' way!"

You jostle the handle this way and that, trying to force it to give, but it's like something's jammed in the mechanism

Somewhere far off behind you, you hear an unfamiliar voice mention something about cops

"Red—the fuck is taking so long!?"

You can hear the impatience and annoyance in his voice, but you can also hear that faint twinge of stress permeating through as well

"It's—it's fucking jammed or something—give me a second!"

"We don't have a second!"

You hear him move behind you as he hisses the words—and you assume he’s going to lock the other door to the gift shop

And right as he's coming back, something seems to snap! off the lock, and the door finally gives way

You stumble out without a moment's hesitation, and Jeff quickly follows after

Your pursuers don't follow once you're outside the vicinity, but it isn't long after that you hear the cops racing by in the direction you were previously escaping from

Both you and Jeff share a look, and then you both laugh with a familiar rush of endorphins that comes from narrowly avoiding the police

By the time you make it back to the mansion, having left the umbrella behind in a panic, you're both drenched

But you're still high from your trip, so you don't even care

If anything, it just makes it all the more memorable

"God," you start as soon as you're through the mansion doors, "I'm gonna need a nice hot shower after all of that"

You twist the edges of your hoody, and watch as a bunch of water trickles out of it, which makes you chuckle

"Agreed," Jeff hums, and when you look over, you can't help but laugh at the state he's in

He looks like a wet kitten; a miserable, angry, wet little kitten

He clicks his tongue

"Ya like laughin' at me, don't'cha?"

You yelp as he grabs you and hugs you, and then he's spinning you around in his arms and he doesn't let you down until you're screaming for mercy between fits of laughter

It's only when he sets you back down onto your feet that you realize there's something strange and lumpy tucked away in his hoody

"The hell do you have in your shirt?"

He grins, like he thought you'd never ask

And then he pulls out a small plushie from underneath his clothes

"Oh my god, no way!"

It's the cutest thing you've ever seen; a small blue shark with a big, pointy-toothed smile on its dorky little face

"Managed to snag it last minute while you were fiddling with the door," he explains

And as soon as he hands it over to you, you hug it to your chest and give it a big squeeze

Even damp, it's still one of the softest things you've ever laid your hands on

"You like it?" he asks

"Of course I like it, I love it!" you exclaim, "How'd you manage to hide it from me the whole time we were getting back"

He shrugs, then holds his arms out for another hug

"Because I'm just the damn best boyfriend ever, aren't I?~"

[silverynight]

How to ask a cheerleader out

<--Previous

Chapter 4

It's time to go to the shopping center; Izuku is a little bit nervous, although he's not sure why, they took care of everything before leaving (Iida had even asked for permission with a very formal document so their group could go out that day).

He's wearing the shorts Uraraka gave him a couple of weeks ago, they're cute, although a little bit tight for Izuku's liking and he's wearing a shirt that says weekend outfit that Uraraka doesn't like at all.

"How are you going to impress people if you keep wearing that?" She rolls her eyes. "No one is going to ask you out like that!"

Izuku blushes to the tip of his ears, like he always does every time she mentions something about dating.

"I have a lot to do to be thinking about dating," Izuku argues, almost pouting. The truth is that he doesn't like anyone like that at the moment.

But suddenly, his traitorous mind thinks about Katsuki asking him out and his heart reacts like it's the best day of his life.

It's probably because Katsuki is his friend and Izuku likes spending time with him; that's all.

"Well said, Midoriya!" Iida approves, moving his hand up and down like some sort of robot; it always makes Izuku chuckle.

"You really are a pair of nerds," Uraraka says, trying to sound like she's complaining, but she's not even able to hide the fondness in her voice. She then turns around and starts waving. "Oh, that's Todoroki!"

Izuku perks up when he notices Katsuki and his friends right behind Todoroki; he smiles.

"Izuku!"

Before Todoroki can get closer, a blur of blond hair and black clothes rushes to where Izuku is and lifts him from the ground like he used to do when they were kids (Katsuki has always been stronger and taller than him).

It makes Izuku giggle.

"Put me down, Kacchan!"

"Only after you admit I'm stronger than you."

"Fine!" Izuku huffs, pretending to be annoyed, but everyone can tell he's barely holding back another chuckle. "You are stronger."

Katsuki nods in approval, accidentally nuzzling against Izuku's chest in the process; Izuku feels warm and fuzzy inside after that.

"Are you done flirting with the cute boy, Blasty?" Ashido walks towards them, holding Kirishima's hand in hers. "Some of us actually want to go to the shopping center."

"SHUT UP!" The blond blushes to the tip of his ears, turning to look properly at Izuku now that he's on the ground. He turns even more red when he notices the shorts, but snorts at the t-shirt. "You're such a nerd."

"And you're such a bad boy," Izuku giggles. "Seriously, a black jacket, Kacchan?"

"Shut it, Izuku, I look amazing!"

He does.

"Time to go!" Kaminari cuts in, interrupting them again.

They finally take the bus and Katsuki manages to secure a spot next to Izuku, although it's not long before they reach their stop.

***

Ashido persuades them to go shopping first and they get into a couple of stores; Uraraka is suffering a little, but Todoroki buys her some stuff, earning her eternal gratitude in the process. Izuku gets out of the last store with a skirt which Katsuki insists on paying for and a scarf that Todoroki buys for him because he wants to piss his father off.

Then Katsuki, taking Izuku's hand in his, leads him and everyone else to the arcade games. It's been a while since he's been a place like that so Izuku can't help but smile from ear to ear.

Ashido and Uraraka jump on the dance battle machine while Todoroki shyly pulls Izuku's shirt before he can take a step inside.

"I've never been in a place like this before..." He mumbles, looking like he's sorry and Izuku feels a sudden wave of anger towards Todoroki's father.

"It's okay, I'll–"

"I'll teach you everything you need to know," Kirishima puts an arm around Todoroki's shoulders and another around Iida's. "You too, you look like you need help."

"I've been here before actually," Iida protests a little bit offended, but lets the boy with bright red hair pull him away.

Kaminari and Sero are already distracted by the car racing machine.

After they realize they're alone, Izuku and Katsuki look at each other and smile at the same time before rushing towards the nearest machine.

They play a lot of games (that Katsuki pays for) but their favorite is Mortal Kombat; they play a couple of rounds on that one. Katsuki leans into Izuku's space, pushing him with his broad shoulders and smirking when Izuku has to hit him playfully with his hips in return.

Izuku finds himself laughing; his lips are quirking up so much his face hurts a little bit at some point, but it doesn't bother him at all.

"Okay, last fight," he says, appreciating how good Katsuki looks with his black outfit under the purple and blue lights. "The winner buys the other lunch."

"You're on, nerd!"

Izuku wins and even though Katsuki complains, he doesn't look that upset about it. Instead a mischievous smirk appears on his face and before the green haired boy can escape, he scoops him up and princess carries him towards the entrance.

"What are you doing, Kacchan?" Izuku giggles, failing miserably to pretend to be annoyed. "Put me down!"

The blond shakes his head, still smirking.

"No, I have to take you to your stupid crepes! I'm not going to owe you anything!"

***

He's glad Pinky has been distracted the whole day otherwise she'd be making fun of Katsuki for acting the way he is doing right now.

Katsuki probably looks ridiculous rushing towards the nearest crepe booth with a giggling nerd in his arms.

But it's worth it; he gets to carry Izuku against his chest and for some reason it makes the nerd happy. He then buys him a disgusting sweet crepe because even though it's not an official date, Katsuki wants to pretend it is and buy his cute nerd whatever his heart desires.

He knows he has that stupid, besotted grin on his face, but he doesn't care because Izuku is offering him part of his crepe and even though Katsuki doesn't like sweet food he takes a bite because it's like an indirect kiss.

Ugh, he's pathetic.

"It's delicious, isn't it?" Izuku asks, beaming and Katsuki can't help but notice that he has chocolate on his left cheek, right next to the corner of his mouth.

"Not bad," he mumbles, a little bit distracted; he has the sudden urge to kiss the smear away. He could. He should. Then he could kiss Izuku's freckles because he's always wanted to. "Izuku..."

"There you are!" Kaminari grins, waving at them. The others are already following him behind.

Katsuki growls; his friends make it difficult for him to like them at the moment, even though he really appreciates that they've been trying to keep Izuku's friends distracted the whole day so he can spend time with his nerd.

"We've been looking for you!" The girl with the round cheeks says, glaring at Katsuki accusingly.

He can tell she doesn't like him that much.

"It's time to go back to the school!" The one with glasses says, prompting Katsuki to roll his eyes at him.

"Midoriya, you have something on your–"

Before half and half can finish the sentence or (gods forbid) do something about it, Katsuki leans in and wipes the smear away with his thumb.

"Chocolate," he tells Izuku before licking his own finger without realizing what he's doing.

Izuku watches everything and turns slightly pink as Katsuki feels his own face heat up in response.

At least he has his back on their friends; he really hopes nobody actually saw what happened.

"I want to try my new clothes! Let's go Blasty!"

***

As soon as they're back in the dorms everyone starts saying goodbye, but Katsuki doesn't want to do that yet.

"Wait, Izuku... I'll walk you to your room."

He really is doing anything he can to spend more time with the nerd because apparently Katsuki is ridiculously in love like that.

"Of course, Kacchan!"

Besides, it could be the perfect opportunity to ask him out on a proper date this time.

He can do it.

When they're outside Izuku's door and the green haired boy chuckles before taking one step inside, Katsuki takes a deep breath.

"Listen–"

"I had so much fun today, Kacchan," Izuku cuts him off, looking flustered and shy and honestly pretty adorable. "Thanks for inviting me and my friends."

"You're welcome, I–"

The other boy leans closer before giving Katsuki a kiss on the cheek that makes his brain shut down for a couple of seconds. His face is hot and his heart is beating in a funny and very distracting way.

"See you tomorrow, Kacchan!"

"Tomorrow..."

By the time he realizes what happened, he's still in the hallway and Izuku's door is closed again.

So he didn't ask him out.

Great, this is going great... Although as Katsuki puts his palm on his cheek, right on the spot Izuku's lips touched, he realizes that he's not that upset about missing his chance.

There's always tomorrow.

***

Next--->

Patreon

[fillyboy19]

Heroes Shouldn't Lie

Katsuki wasn’t sure when he noticed it.  He wasn’t sure if it had been all year, or if it had started recently, and he wasn’t even sure why it mattered; but Izuku almost never seemed to be in the cafeteria during lunch. He’d never given it much thought before, after all what did he care where the shitty nerd spent his lunches?  But once he did notice the lack of the green-eyed boy’s presence, he seemed to have this irresistible urge to look around for him, never finding him.

Today though, it was raining outside, really coming down and the teachers were all talking about the possibility of the power going out with as bad as the weather was getting.  So, when Katsuki sat down with his lunch and looked around, he easily spotted the green-haired boy just a few tables away, sitting alone. He turned back to his food. What was it his business if Izuku finally decided to grace them all with his presence instead of sitting outside in the downpour? And yet Katsuki’s eyes were drawn to him.  He sat hunched over, the unruly green curls falling in his eyes as he scribbled in that blue journal that he carried around with him everywhere.

Katsuki focused his eyes on his food, but his ears perked up when he overheard some extra asking Izuku where his lunch was, and Katsuki couldn’t help but look up.  Izuku smiled his overly stupid grin and made some lame ass excuse as to how he’d forgotten it because he was running late this morning.  Katsuki knew that was a damned lie.  Izuku had been a few blocks ahead of him on their normal walk to school. He’d had plenty of time to turn back and grab his lunch.

But why had he lied? Katsuki huffed, angry at the distraction and turned back to his food.  He was distracted during afternoon classes. His eyes constantly wandering back to the stupid freckled face that smiled back whenever it caught Katsuki looking. And if his wandering eyes weren't enough, his mind wandered as well. How could he forget his own lunch when he was at school before most of the others? Izuku always hated lies. He’d told Katsuki that often enough when they used to hang out. Heroes shouldn’t lie, Kacchan. Stupid, naïve Deku always thought people should tell the truth, so why was he lying about something so small and trivial? What else would he lie about?  That thought made his stomach hurt.  Something about Izuku lying just made the world seem wrong. Heroes shouldn’t lie.

Katsuki walked home that afternoon with Izuku in the rain. They hadn’t hung out together in years, and yet they still walked home together almost every single day. Most days they walked in a comfortable silence. Stay in your lane, I’ll stay in mine. Izuku sometimes tried to start a conversation, but Katsuki shut it down quickly. They weren’t friends anymore. Today though, he felt something heavy in the normally comfortable silence between them.

“Why’d you lie?” Katsuki asked, his voice came out louder than he’d intended, and it seemed to startle Izuku.

Izuku jumped at Katsuki’s gruff voice, and he nervously tucked a lock of hair back behind his ear. “What?”

“At lunch, you told that stupid extra that you were running late. But you weren’t.  You got to school before me.” Katsuki said. Izuku’s eyes met his for a moment before turning away, a slight brush creeping across the freckled cheeks. He didn’t speak for a moment and Katsuki knew in his gut that whatever Izuku was going to tell him was a lie.  And he didn’t know why it mattered so much, especially when they weren’t really friends any more, but he didn’t think he could handle Izuku lying to him. Heroes don’t lie, Kacchan. “Whatever, ‘s not like I really care.”

Katsuki turned off into his complex, grateful for some distance between him and Izuku.  Now he just wished he could get some distance between him and these weird new feelings. What did he care anyway about stupid Deku? What did he care if those emerald, green eyes looked into his own crimson ones and lied to him? What would it change? And why did it feel like it would change his whole world?

He had wanted to talk to his dad about this whole situation, but the note on fridge told him that Masaru was working late and wouldn’t be home until tomorrow, so Katsuki relegated the thoughts to the back of his mind as best he could as he completed his homework and then turned to his video games to numb him for the rest of the evening.  That night, sleep was fitful and brief.  The whole Izuku lying thing was still weighing heavily on his mind even as he readied for school the next morning. He found himself leaving a bit earlier just to walk with Izuku even though he preferred his mornings mumble free.

“Morning, Kacchan.” Izuku said. His bright green eyes were much too cheery for the early hour, especially with the storm still raging.

“Yeah, whatever.”  Katsuki retorted.  They walked in the same silence that usually accompanied them on their walk home. The whole world seemed to be muted by the heavy rain, and definitely felt like a match for Katsuki’s foul mood. He stopped when Izuku did, at the shop with the All Might display, but instead of the new figures, Katsuki’s eyes caught on the shiny wet spot on Izuku’s school jacket.  They traveled up to the small hole in his umbrella. Stupid Deku, doesn’t even know his umbrella has a hole in it. “Come on, Nerd. We’re gonna be late.”

He managed to focus on morning classes, but when lunch rolled around, his eyes searched for Izuku until they found him just a few tables away. Again, he was hunched over his little blue journal with no lunch in sight.  He wondered what Izuku’s excuse was today.  Izuku couldn’t say that he was running late this morning. They’d had plenty of time to turn back if that was the case, especially while the nerd had ogled that window display.  Once again, Katsuki was filled with an uneasy feeling that distracted him and ate at his insides until the final bell rang. 

They walked home again in silence. Katsuki wanted to ask him why he didn’t have a lunch again, but every time he went to open his mouth, he shut it without saying anything. Why did it matter to him if Izuku lied to him?  He’d lied to Izuku often enough, it would only be fair that Izuku would lie to him as well. But, Deku doesn’t believe in lying. It’s wrong.

“Are you okay, Kacchan?” Izuku’s normally bright, cheery voice was laced with concern.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes at Izuku. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” That was a lie.

“You just seem really far away today.  You look like something’s bothering you.  And I know you can handle anything. You’re great like that. But if you ever want to talk about something, anything really, that’s bothering you. I don’t mind listening. I mean we walk home every day together, so it’s not like you’d be bothering me. I mean, not that you’d worry about bothering me. I’m just, well I’m worried about you because…”

“Shut up, nerd.” Katsuki said. Why the hell was Izuku worried about him? “Nothing’s wrong, and even if there was. I can handle it myself. I don’t need you.” Was that a lie?

Izuku seemed to shrink at his words, and Katsuki felt like an ass. Even if he’d been able to bring himself to ask, there was no way he was doing it now. He wasn’t even angry, so why had he gone off like that? 

“You got a hole in your umbrella.” Katsuki mumbled before he turned into his complex, ignoring the cheerful ‘See you tomorrow,’ that Izuku threw at him.  He let himself into the dimly lit apartment and found a note from his parents saying they wouldn’t be home until late and that dinner was in the fridge. He worked on his homework, plagued by the constant distraction of Izuku in his mind until he finally gave up and heated his supper.  It was as he was pushing the food around on his plate that an idea came to him.

Katsuki walked to school with Izuku, the silence still slightly uneasy, though Katsuki wasn’t sure if it was because of how he was feeling inside, or the way he’d gone off on Izuku yesterday.  The rain had finally let up though, and the world seemed cleaner somehow, as if the rain had washed away the grime on the streets and some of his worries. Katsuki found that with a plan in place, his mind focused more easily on his morning classes.

When lunch time rolled around, he lingered in the classroom just long enough to follow Izuku outside in the bright afternoon sun. Izuku led him to the small koi pond near the playground equipment. Katsuki hid behind a tree, watching as the green haired boy dipped his fingers lazily in the pond, gazing at the fish for a bit and then sitting down with his back to the pond, his nose once more buried in his journal. Another day without lunch. His stomach growled at him. He was always starving by the time lunch rolled around. Aren’t you hungry?

Katsuki snuck off without being seen, his mind working over the possible reasons Izuku wasn’t eating lunch.  That afternoon when they walked home and Katsuki turned off to his own complex, he put his key in the door and fiddled with it until Izuku had walked away. Once Izuku was a fair bit ahead of him, he trailed behind keeping his eyes on the bright green mop of hair. He watched as Izuku walked right past the complex where he lived. Where are you going? He followed Izuku for three more blocks before Izuku stopped in front of a small, run down looking complex. Izuku didn’t even use a key, he just pushed the broken door open and went inside.

Katsuki stayed at the end of the block assessing the building. It was old, and extremely run down. Several of the windows had plastic over them to disguise the fact that they had been busted out. He didn’t dare get any closer, afraid that Izuku would see him. Why had they moved out of the other, much nicer complex?

Katsuki walked slowly on his way back to his own complex. His mind turned over the many questions all vying for space in his sorely overloaded brain. He had been hoping to see his father’s shoes in the entryway, but they weren’t there. He was still grateful to see his mother’s shoes. He could smell the spice of whatever she was cooking; Masaru would surely complain that it was too spicy. Katsuki kicked off his shoes and joined Mitsuki in the kitchen.

“Katsuki! Where’ve you been? You should’ve been home thirty minutes ago. I was getting worried.” Mitsuki chided loudly.

“Stop nagging at me, hag. I was busy.”  Katsuki retorted. He sat down at the table, tossing his bag onto the floor at his feet. He took a deep breath, trying to start this conversation again. Maybe they didn’t always need to go at each other’s throats like this. “You still talk with Aunt Inko?”

Mitsuki turned around and pinned Katsuki under an intense stare.  “You did not beat poor Izuku up again, did you. I swear if you laid one hand on that…”

“No! I didn’t touch him.” Katsuki yelled. Always assuming the damned worst. He huffed quietly and lowered his voice. “Stupid Deku’s been acting weird and I… I followed him home and found out they didn’t live at their old complex anymore.”

“Inko mentioned that they moved the last time we spoke, but we’ve both been really busy with work. It’s been… Well, come to think of it, I’m not sure when I last talked with Inko.  I’ll have to give her a call.  Was everything okay at the complex?” Mitsuki turned back the curry on the stove.

Katsuki knew how adults looked when they tried to hide worry, and Mitsuki didn’t seem like she was worried or trying to hide it, and that meant she didn’t know. He thought about telling her how run down the place looked compared to theirs, but was that his place? And what good would it do? They couldn’t talk to each other without shouting or arguing. Katsuki felt his bad mood starting to make his pulse race and he got up, grabbing his bag, and stalking out of the kitchen.

“Dinner’s almost ready!” Mitsuki called.

“Not hungry!” Katsuki yelled over his shoulder.  He could hear his mother calling after him, ‘ungrateful little’ something or other as he closed the door.  He tossed his bag on the desk and flopped down on his bed. He tried to think critically about the situation, but his mind just waffled with the limited information he had and what to do with it for what felt like hours before his father’s soft knock on the door, drew him out of his thoughts. “Come in.”

Masaru set a small bowl of curry down on Katsuki’s desk. His eyes looked tired as he sat down on the bed next to his son. “What’s up, kiddo?”

Katsuki had always had a tenuous relationship with his mother, arguing back and forth, yelling, spitting insults.  They loved each other, there was no doubt in Katsuki’s mind about that; but they were just too alike to get along for most in depth conversations.  Masaru was quiet.  How he’d ended up with Mitsuki was beyond his comprehension, but he was good for her. He was good for Katsuki too. He let Katsuki vent as loudly as he needed to, while listening quietly. In a way, his father sitting there reminded him a lot of Izuku.  Always eager to listen, never seeming to be angry, no matter what Katsuki threw at them… “When you were my age, did you ever have someone treat you the way I treat Deku?”

Katsuki watched a small, sad smile spread across his father’s face. “No. I had a bully though. He used to take my lunches and beat me up after school.”

“You don’t think I’m a bully?” Katsuki asked.

He watched Masaru think for a long time before he spoke his voice soft and slow, often pausing between thoughts for more introspection. “I think that you’re a lot like your mom. I think that certain emotions are easier for you to express than others. And I think that you care about Izuku in your own way, even if you don’t understand that or know how to express it.”

“Mom thinks I’m a bully.” Katsuki retorted.

Masaru’s brown eyes met his son’s sad, crimson ones. He shook his head. “She doesn’t think that you’re a bully.  She looks at you and sees herself when she was younger.  She wants to save you from making the same mistakes she did, but she’s still unlearning a lot of toxic behaviors herself and that makes it hard sometimes.”

Katsuki thought about what his father had said for a moment before speaking. “Do you think it’s too late to fix things with Deku?”

“I don’t think it’s ever too late. I think Izuku is a person who likes you for you. He’s willing to deal with the rough edges because he sees the real you inside.  That doesn’t make your behavior okay. And it doesn’t mean that you won’t have to apologize for what you’ve done in the past, or for the times you’ll mess up in the future. You’re only human you know, so you will mess up. But I think that if you can find one thing to start mending your relationship, then Izuku will happily meet you in the middle.”  Masaru patted Katsuki’s shoulder before leaving him to his thoughts.

Katsuki felt calmer after talking with his father. The smell of curry wafted around the room and Katsuki’s stomach grumbled until he finally broke down and ate.  His mom was washing dishes in the kitchen when he brought his bowl in. He stood at the sink washing it while Mitsuki packed his lunch. “Make me two for tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Mitsuki gave an annoyed sigh and grabbed another bowl of the cupboard.

Katsuki lingered in the doorway. “Sorry I called you a hag.”  He didn’t wait long enough to hear her reply. Instead, he retreated to his room and fell into the first restful sleep he’d had since this whole Izuku issue had started.

The next morning, he met Izuku in front of his complex just like he had for the past few days.  They walked most of the way in their normal comfortable silence until they had to walk past the store. The All Might display had been changed out for this week’s release of the new Endeavor figure.  Izuku had started rambling, which turned into mumbling, which turned into apologies, and then more rambling and mumbling. This time he didn’t tell Izuku to shut up. Katsuki simply let him mumble and ramble until they’d gotten to school.

When lunch time rolled around, Katsuki grabbed the lunches out of his locker and hurried outside. His stomach felt tight and knotted. What if Izuku isn’t in the same spot? What if I have this all wrong and I look like an idiot giving him a lunch? This was a stupid idea… Katsuki paused by the tree he’d hidden behind before, worrying about all the ways this could go wrong.

But there Izuku sat, his back against the brick of the koi pond, green unruly curls falling around his freckled forehead as he sat hunched over, writing furiously in that blue journal of his.  “Oi, Nerd!” Katsuki called.

“K-Kacchan. What are you doing here?” Izuku asked. Katsuki didn’t miss the way his green eyes darted around, seeking out an escape route or how his small fingers curled more tightly around his little blue journal as if to protect it.

Katsuki had planned what he would say, the excuse he would give Izuku for why he suddenly had two lunches. But as he opened his mouth, his whole planned excuse suddenly escaped him. Heroes shouldn’t lie, Kacchan. Katsuki closed his mouth with an audible snap, and instead he sat down and shoved the lunch container against Izuku’s chest.

He watched the little blue journal fall onto the grass between Izuku’s knees as he instinctively grabbed the container being shoved at him. “But, Kacchan…”

“You’re hungry. Just eat it.” Katsuki turned to his own container and opened it, mumbling under his breath, “Stupid Deku.”

Heroes Shouldn't Lie - FillyBoy - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) [Archive of Our Own]

[abiiors]

hey baby, since youve just woken up.

Game night in the household, competitive and overly loud, its become tradition for us all to sit down with dinner and try and best the others at only connect. Usually Ross of Adam would win with George in a close second every time, we like to joke hes cursed to always be in second place for these things. Tonight though, Matty has resolved to win, by any means necessary, because he was sick of coming in last. It had been pointed out if he paid attention he could win but he claimed that was too hard to focus on. So here we were, shitty indian takeout from down the road on the table before us, all bundled onto the couch.  

Matty’s arm is wrapped around my shoulder pulling me into him tightly, fingers trialing up and down my bicep tickling a little. its chilly tonight so a blanket is splayed across us both, my arm across his middle, head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm and the way it picks up excitedly when he gets something right, clinging to his warm body when a draft comes from under the front door. trying to best each other with every passing question. Arguing arises amongst the boys when they start gloating about how many points they have so far, george insisting hes in first, hes not, and everyone is happy to tell him, joining in myself because i refuse to let george believe hes better at this than me, pulled from my argument however when Matty’s hand ventures up my shirt, laid flat to my stomach just below my chest, hidden by the blanket pulled to my shoulder and wrapped tightly round me.

Looking up at him with a glare, annoyance that his cold hand is on my otherwise warm self, however all the courage i had drains away when i look into his eyes, almost hungry, I shy away when he leans down, almost flinching as his lips brush my ear, the other boys still distracted, whispering huskily into my ear

"make this interesting yeah? You get it right, I please you. I get it right--well it'll be fun" 

Suddenly georges voice peaks above the rest and he points at us both accusingly, getting the other attention, "Oi you two, no secret collaboration"

Nodding curtly in his direction we both giggle a little, and i find myself unconsciously curling closer to matty, hiding from the chill the open window lets in. the tv screen lights up in blue and the new grid appears, the first group is apparent, all elements in group 1, thank god for my year 7 chemistry teacher. 

"They're all in group 1 of the periodic table"

"Ok nerd" george is growing evermore bitter the more he loses his lead and it shows, if i wasnt so nervous id giggle

"Fucking loser" ross is grinning from ear to ear regardless, he just thinks its good fun, of course hes never come less than third place so he wouldnt understand the stakes,

 "Good job bloo" adam of course, ever the supportive one, 

But I wasn't really listening, not in a meaningful way, instead tuning into matty’s shallow breathing and the way his heart hammered against his ribcage, almost as if desperate to escape, hes nervous too, or maybe just excited if the the tent in his trousers is any indication. Lithe fingers slowly teasing my chest, circling pebbled nipples without touching, flicking across them every so often, Matty watches in amusement as I pull myself tighter to him in the hopes it stops me from giving something away, another whisper to my ear, discreet 

"good girl, so smart aren't you?" Pinching the perked bud between thumb and forefinger and relishing in the way I bite my lip trying to stifle the desperate noises that threaten to escape, to prevent alerting the others, and to focus on the next row. 

"I think they're all bible references?" 

"Nope. All beginnings" the smug smile on his face fills me with dread, settling on my shoulders and weighing me down, slumping down further 

"Fuck" group chatter drowned out, all i can focus on is his reactions, the soft tsk noise he makes, something so small and its all i can hear, 

"Disappointing. I was hoping you'd get that one" spoken with a lower tone, disappointed, he was disappointed. I cant help but feel bad, i want to do well, make him proud. And yet i know he wasn't hoping id get that one right; I know that the moment his other hand takes mine, underneath the blankets and presses it to his lap, his other hand stilling, fingers digging into soft flesh of my chest but avoiding touching where I crave most, gently guiding my hand to knead him through his trousers, 

"your going to have to earn that pleasure back" 

Ripped from our little bubble matty looks up at the sound of ross’ voice "Oi matt you want a drink?" 

"Yeah mate; can you get me a coke, with ice?" 

"Sure" with a quick nod ross is off to the kitchen leaving more room on the long couch now, a 6 seater couch, which made it a little easier to be discreet about this, not like i had much choice, i didn't want much choice though in all honesty. This was fun. 

WHAT THE FUCK!??? EVIL EVIL BOY, evil of you to send me this after I’ve just woken up. I also know the periodic table very well so WHEN IS IT MY TURN HUH????

in all seriousness, I have always wanted to play the jackbox games with the boys but this is a smuttier version of my fantasy so I approve 🤭

[chaoticspeedrun]

Brighter to my eyes 1

Summary: Leo is good at reading people, it's what makes him a good strategist, but those blue hues of hers elude his sharp intuition.

Perhaps if they didn't he'd realize he didn't have to change himself for her to see him like he wants her to.

A.N. I wrote this fanfic over an idea of Rise! Leo using a cloacking brooch to hide his true self but it evolved into something way bigger, this fic will takes place in ROTTMNT after "Newsworthy" but April is 18 starting college instead of in High School, while the MC and Raph are 17, the twins 16 and Mikey 15.

Pairing: Rise! Leo x OC, Leo x Reader

Warnings: Angst, FLUFF, Sibling shenanigans, MC is a nerd, but a mean nerd in leather.

MASTERLIST • NEXT

April had been born and raised in New York, and she knew the city from top to sewers (quite literally), her part time jobs also took her all around, and she kept keys to every place she'd worked at (Which probably wasn't very legal).

Better yet, she knew about a hidden city underground New York, full of yokai and mystic energy, April had seen everything this city had to offer which includes having four mutant ninja turtles as best friends.

So as a freshman in college looking around for her next class April's ears immediately perked up as she heard a couple of students mention the last name Blanchet.

The Blanchet's were a well known family of politicians that lived in NYC, however, since April was in high school the youngest Blanchet had been a running conversation theme for most people her age.

Victoire Blanchet was the only child of an influential family, she was pretty and the rumour mill said she excelled at everything she tried.

And she'd tried it all.

Ballet, japanese, music, fencing, etcetera, meeting and befriending a lot of people along the way, but most of all art, holding an inconsistent but pretty and professional instagram account for it.

Victoire Blanchet was like a micro celebrity with how popular she was, so people admired and envied her equally.

April was no exception, Donnie was more skeptical.

Donnie and Leo were good at keeping up with trends on social media, which is why more than once had both of them stumbled across the name.

Donnie particularly had heard all about Victoire Blanchet, and he wasn't as excited as April when she found out they were attending the same school.

After a couple of weeks April herself had mostly forgotten about it too, she wasn't going to easily cross paths with Victoire when April was taking journalism and the art faculty was all the way across campus.

Right now she had bigger worries, like her film appreciation elective.

She'd taken the class for an easy A, but had already missed a couple of the movies they had to watch, whenever she sat herself to watch them she'd end up getting distracted or falling asleep, so she tried to watch them at the lair with someone else to force herself into paying attention.

The problem is that since the elective and the chosen movies were in chronological order they had so far only been mute movies in black and white, hence why she had fallen asleep during them.

Leo made a big deal out of it when April started playing Metropolis and he realized nobody spoke, then he paled when he saw how long the movie was.

He practically jumped at Mikey when he popped into the projector room with the Jupiter Jim saves the galaxy DVD and metropolis was forgotten.

But her four long essays were due 12AM, and April was resigned to watch someone explain the summary of the movies to her on YouTube.

As she thought this, someone made a sharp turn around the corner and wasn't fast enought to avoid a collition with her. April fell to the floor on her butt and her phone thankfully fell in the rushing hands of the person who bumped into her.

"I'm sorry! Are you okay?" The voice above April called and as she looked up her breath hitched recognizing features she'd gotten familiar with though the other side of a screen.

Victoire had unmistakeable short white hair that she'd just dyed recently from her natural black, a pale complexion with beauty marks dotting over her face and clear big blue eyes that were looking at April in concern contrasting the common cold gaze common in her pictures.

April soon realized Victoire was offering her hand to help and she took it, standing quickly "Yes! Yes, I'm good, no worries!"

Victoire nodded with a thin smile and glanced at the phone in her hand "Oh, Metropolis, were you watching it?"

April was slow to answer as she wasn't expecting the conversation to continue after the confirmation of her well being.

"Oh, I-well, not really, I did start but I was busy and now the essay is due tonight, so I should really watch it, but I don't have the time to so-" April started rambling, but the smile on Victoire's face while small seemed a bit more genuine.

"Yeah I get that, I can barely ever sit still long enough to watch a movie" Victoire said, saving April from her rant "But I did watch metropolis last year and I loved it, so I could help you with your essay if you want, it'd be hard for you to watch the whole thing and write the essay today"

April's eyes sparkled "You would?!"

"Sure" Victoire shrugged "There's a coffee shop in front of the art faculty we could work at, wanna come?"

April, with a wide elated grin nodded "Yeah, sure! My name is April"

"Victoire" The white haired girl grinned slightly "Come on, I really need a refill for the caffeine in my brain."

-

Of course if April had expected anyone to be interested in these movies then the girl in front of her was an excellent candidate, but the way Victoire narrated the story made it seem so interesting April was starting to regret not getting through the first minutes of it.

And then Victoire realized there were another three movies April hadn't seen, she ordered another round of coffee and started ranting to her about the cabinet of Dr. Caligari and how Tim Burton was one of the people influenced by that movie and German expressionism.

Through the middle of the first movie Victoire had pulled out a notebook and started explaining the story through drawings, making little doodles to represent the characters and lines crossing and twisting through her narrative which made it engaging and easy to remember.

But the more Victoire spoke and her rants deviated from the movies to how Tim Burton wasn't the real director for 'A nightmare before Christmas', the more April realized that Victoire was an extremely cool and talented person, the kind you don't expect to look at you twice and yet

She was a HUGE nerd.

And it was AMAZING, at times Victoire would realize she'd strayed too far from the topic and apologize quickly to step back in, but April was excited and asked questions about what she'd said while Victoire's smile grew sincerely before continuing her rant.

They spent a while in the café before April finally finished all four essay's and feeling accomplished they both ordered a couple of muffins and leaned back to chat.

"Ok, no, you are wrong, Jupiter Jim Pluto Vacation 4 is the best JJ movie of ALL times" April claimed and Voctoire snorted.

"Are you for real? I'm not hearing this from the person I just saved from failing film appreciation, I think I know what I'm talking about when I say Jupiter Jim sails the seven galaxies is by far the best JJ movie"

April scoffed "Ugh you're just like my friend Leo, he claims the same thing all the time and the others back him up, only real one is Donnie who actually understands a good piece of art when he sees it"

April pauses, she had been so relaxed the words had just spilled out of her mouth no filter, but well, it's not like Victoire would know she was talking about a bunch of turtles.

"Well, obviously this Leo has good taste, how many are the other ones?"

"Claiming your take? Three, Mikey and Raph are the others"

Victoire squinted at April, like she was processing the information over and over until a light bulb suddenly lighted up and her eyes widened "Now you're just messing with me" she huffed with a smirk.

April looked at her questioningly and Victoire numbered with her fingers.

"Leo, Donnie, Mikey and Raph? Don't tell me this  Mikey's second name is Angelo" She huffed and April smirked slowly.

"Okay, I won't tell you" and Victoire gasped

"There's no way that's their real names!"

"My besties names are Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo and Raphael" April had a shit eating grin that grew when Victoire, cool and collected Victoire laughed loud and disbelievingly.

When she calmed back down Victoire grinned "Well, aside from one they obviously do have a good eye for art, Donatello is the only one not making his namesake proud."

They bickered for a bit before Victoire's eyes brightened up and she reached inside her bag for something "Hey, I'm holding a halloween party this weekend, it's going to be a bonfire party outside a haunted house game, you really should come"

Victoire offered five colorful invites to April who looked at them in awe.

Everyone wanted to be invited to a party by Victoire, but those who were invited waited all year for her halloween party that she was known to go all out for.

April couldn't believe it as she slowly took them and stuttered "Wh- yes! Sure, of course! I'll be there!" she grinned wide and Victoire smiled at her as she had been doing for a while now, a contrast to the first curt smiles she had given April at the beginning and hanging out with Leo helped April notice the difference between her smiles that most probably didn't, these ones were honest.

"Cool, you can bring your friends too! Parties are always better when you have a couple close friends around." April froze at these words.

Victoire expected her to bring along the guys, of course that's why she gave her four extra invites.

"Oh well, I'm not sure they'd be available that day..."

"None of them?" Victoire raised an eyebrow.

"Oh they're siblings, you know normally they're busy together!"

Victoire hummed "Well in case they are free, warn them that it's a costume party" Victoire gave her a small relaxed smile before smirking "If they don't bring a costume we will have to dress them in the white blanket with two holes of shame"

April snorted at that and then an idea started forming in her head "Oh they LOVE costumes, they are very good at dressing up, don't worry about it, you wouldn't even recognize them after they get started on one."

"Really?" Victoire grinned "Cool! There might even be a prize for the best costume so make sure you guys come!"

After that Victoire paid for their bill before April could even say a thing and they both said goodbye before going their own way, the moment Victoire was out of sight April rushed to the first manhole that could take her to the lair.

[andypantsx3]

statistically significant | 7 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

One month later

The Hero Awards certainly did not disappoint the second time around.

Though you’d spent the last few months in the company of some of these heroes, you couldn’t help but linger on the sidelines as they stalked their way down the walkway, staring in awe. As before, they were decked out in their absolute best, glimmering in jewel toned dresses with daring cutouts, or carving dashing profiles in well-fitted suits. Reporters and fans swarmed the sides of the red carpet, roiling like a pot reaching an agitated boil.

Their excitement was so palpable it hung heavy in the air, absolutely contagious. Maybe it was the fact that you knew some of the heroes up for awards tonight personally, but the potential of the evening simmered under your skin, a soft but constant hum of frenetic energy.

Or maybe some of that was due to the fact that this year, you’d been able to convince your boss to shell out the extra cash for the full dinner option. No longer would you need to smuggle snacks into your dress--this evening, you were a solid professional.

Which was a good thing, really, as the dress in question was not altogether any more secure or supportive than your dress from last year. You’d tried to angle for a thicker fabric and a little more of a conservative design, but several people had aired opinions on your choices over the course of the last few weeks, and you’d ended up in a thin swathe of delicate fabric that was really quite pretty, if you did say so yourself, but would support a grand total of maybe two popcorn kernels.

“You’re looking awfully forlorn over here,” someone chirped by your ear.

You startled, whirling to find Mina behind you, looking rosy and radiant in a form-fitting dress only a few shades lighter than her skin tone. Tiny pearls and clusters of glittering pink diamonds were stitched carefully into the fabric, winking at you as she moved, as bright as the conspiratorial grin she wore. She looked absolutely fabulous--she was one of the people who’d bullied you into the snackless gown, and you could begrudgingly admit that the girl had taste.

“Is it because a certain hotheaded blonde isn’t here yet?” she asked, a pink eyebrow going up.

You flushed. “Mina--oh my god, no. Not everything is about him, you know.”

She idly inspected a nail, looking supremely unconvinced. “Someone should tell him that, then.”

You huffed a laugh. The last time you’d been at the Awards, you’d said as much to him yourself. But a year later, the message was still not exactly being received.

“I’m actually thinking about dinner. I’m literally starving,” you complained, trying to divert the subject.

Mina nodded sympathetically. “I have a six pack and I still had to suck in to fit into this shit.”

As if on cue, your stomach growled sympathetically. You weren’t proud of what it was going to be like when you were finally unleashed on that multi-course dinner, but god it was gonna be worth it.

Several shrieks went up in the crowd of fans behind you, and you looked over your shoulder in alarm. Your pulse relaxed slightly when you realized it was just another pro sauntering down the walkway, but then the lights flickered off ashy blonde locks, and your pulse jumped violently. You jerked in surprise.

Mina didn’t even try to suppress her snort as you turned around fully, eyes pulled like a magnet to Bakugou as he stalked down the red carpet. Even looking like he would rather be anywhere else, and moving briskly over the carpet like he was going in for a kill, he still looked better than he had any right to. The charcoal of his suit--stitched with deep ruby flowers so dark they were almost black--brought out the piercing scarlet of his eyes, and your heart leapt into your mouth when those eyes cut over to meet yours.

His expression didn’t change, and he kept moving, but you flushed all the way from your head to your toes at the intensity behind his look.

Mina made a disgusted noise. “You’re both like a dog with a bone.”

You glared at her accusingly. “We literally just looked at each other.”

She clicked her tongue. “Please, he all but just pissed on you to mark his territory.”

Before you could reply, she called out, catching sight of Kirishima, and seized you to drag you over to say hello.

You let Mina drag you around for the next half hour, making polite conversation with her high school friends, a couple of friends from other agencies, and one fashion journalist who Mina had converted into a weekly drinking buddy. Mina kept the conversation light and easy, and you enjoyed yourself for the most part, though you almost passed out when a very distinct head of green curls materialized over her shoulder and then Midoriya Izuku--better known as the number one hero Deku--was smiling at you eagerly.

Things got even weirder when he appeared to not only already know who you were, but knew a great deal about your work, enough to ask some very detailed questions about your training model software that was going into production a couple months from now. Mina had the gall to cut into the conversation to call you both huge nerds, though she’d directly benefited from the model herself.

The conversation was unfortunately cut short when a calloused hand flung itself in front of your face and a rough voice sounded from over your shoulder. “Stop sticking your nose in my fucking business, Deku.”

You whipped around to find Bakugou glaring over your head at his former classmate. His hand closed around your shoulder and dragged you closer to him.

“I was just asking about her model, Kacchan,” Midoriya said patiently. “It’ll be great to be able to compare my movements directly with some of the other heroes in almost real time! Ojirou’s been trying out some new fighting forms and I was thinking I should try to adapt them to work into my shoot style--”

“Just because you couch it in nerd shit doesn’t mean you’re not trying to spy on me, fuckstick,” Bakugou said. “Stop poking your nose into my relationship like the town fucking gossip.”

Midoriya flushed a little, looking slightly chastened when you turned back to him in question. He gave you an embarrassed little smile. “I did want to meet you for reasons other than your model. Kacchan’s been my friend since I was little, and I wondered what kind of person could interest him so much he wanted my perspective on your work--”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bakugou demanded, but he wasn’t fast enough.

You perked up in interest. “He asked you what?”

Bakugou bristled like a cat being dangled over a bath, but Midoriya was paying him no mind. “Right after the last Hero Awards, he’d done all this research and he asked me about whether your model results lined up with some of the personal analysis that I was doing--”

“Deku,” Bakugou’s fingers tightened on your arm, growing alarmingly warm. “If you don’t shut the fuck up right now I’m going to punch all of your teeth straight down your throat and into your stomach.”

“Kacchan,” Midoriya protested, but he was interrupted by a call on the overhead for everyone to start taking their places in the theater interior for the awards to begin.

Bakugou used the distraction to pry you away from Midoriya. In the blink of an eye, he’d gotten you across the theater and was corralling you towards the Miruko agency tables, looking like he’d sucked on a lemon. You stifled a laugh. You’d wondered a couple months ago exactly how and when he’d figured out you were quirkless, and he’d once asked if you thought you were the only one who’d done their research.

If things were anything like you were starting to suspect, your demands that he do better at the Hero Awards had apparently aroused his interest in more ways than one.

You and Bakugou hadn’t exactly settled on formal terms for your relationship yet, and he still more often than not answered any of your interest with the assertion that you were the one with the crush on him. But this was more evidence--beyond the mysterious coffees that showed up at your workstation almost every morning--that your interest was more intensely reciprocated than he was willing to own up to.

By the time you’d settled at a table and been flanked by a grinning Mina and Kaminari, the awards were getting underway. They were thrilling to watch, something you’d had to miss out on last year when you needed to sneak out with a giant hole in the front of your dress. The heroes you’d worked with this year raked in an insane number of awards, and their elation was palpable, so thick you could almost taste it in the air. The pair of men with satyr horns were named the Best Rookie Duo, Miruko was awarded Takedown of the Year, and Kaminari clocked the Fastest Fight Win for a battle last month in which he’d rendered a villain with an aluminum quirk insensate only seconds into the fight.

A very unfortunate match up, you thought.

Mina nabbed an award for Fan Favorite, and in almost no time, it was the moment that you’d been nervously awaiting since nominations had gone out. You’d cheated, doing your own calculations behind everyone’s backs just to get a clearer picture of what his chances were, and you rather liked his odds, but there was always a chance it wouldn’t go how you thought. But this was the moment that Bakugou was up for Most Valuable Hero.

You barely heard any of the words the host was saying as he trotted out the names of the nominees, detailing some of their key accomplishments. He covered Bakugou's latest slew of assists and rescues, stats that made you feel kind of weirdly warm and proud, and then your ears strained for the syllables you’d hoped to hear.

And then:

“The winner is...our explosive number six, Ground Zero!”

It took everything in you not to leap out of your seat in joy, though something like a strangled squeal managed to escape you. Bakugou gave you an evaluating look as he got to his feet, stalking up on stage with his usual intensity.

As soon as he was up there, it struck you that allowing him time for an acceptance speech was maybe not a great idea. Graciousness was not exactly a strength of his.

“Obviously I’m the most valuable,” he growled into the mic. The stage lights glinted off his hair and teeth, making him look slightly more predatory than usual. “I didn’t need you fucks to tell me.”

A choking noise could be heard from Kirishima’s seat a couple tables over, and Mina put her head in her hands.

“What’s important is that I’m number six now and it only took me a month,” Bakugou’s head swiveled in the direction of Midoriya and you suppressed a groan. “Don’t get fucking comfortable. I’m gonna wipe the floor with every one of the top five, and next awards you’ll all be kissing my ass.”

He didn’t seem like he had much more he wanted to say, which was an incredible relief as both the host and nearby security looked about ready to wrestle him offstage.

He leapt neatly down from the stage, and when he made it back to the table, he didn’t take his seat again. Instead, he grabbed your arm, hauling you out of your seat, and then he was pulling you down the aisle and through the door to the reception area.

He pulled you past the snack table and you thought he was steering you towards the stairwell again, but at the last second he took a sudden turn, shoving you through a door into the women’s powder room. You didn’t even have enough time to formulate a question before he had you backed up against the wall, your shoulders hitting the cool stone at the same time his mouth hit yours.

His kiss was hot and demanding as always, and you lost yourself in it easily. He trailed a line of burning kisses down your neck and over your shoulder, making you shudder and shake when he lingered too long over any particular spot.

It was hard to think past the press of his body on yours, but you tried your best to formulate words.

“Katsuki--it’s--we’re in the women’s room,” you panted, embarrassed by the fact that even as you spoke, you were clutching him closer. “This is--what are you--? S-someone’s gonna come in.”

Bakugou broke apart from you just long enough to level a searching glance around the room and--spotting what he’d been looking for--hefting the trashcan in front of the door with a forceful kick to stop it shut.

“There, nerd. Now stop fucking complaining,” he rasped, immediately attaching his mouth back under your jaw. You shuddered.

“What the fuck has gotten into you,” you demanded, seizing a fistful of his blonde hair to pull him back from where he was leaving what felt like a very deep bruise over your collarbone.

He leveled you with a burning, red-eyed stare. “Like you don’t fucking know.”

You looked at him in question. “...I actually don’t.”

He tried to lean in again but you gripped his hair harder. “What? You can’t just keep throwing me up against walls, especially here. What is it with you and shoving me into weird places at the Hero Awards?”

Bakugou growled. “If you don’t shut the fuck up and let me do what I want, I’m gonna burn throught this dress too.”

You froze up, then glared at him accusingly. “I literally write the code that processes your rank. If you ever wanna come within sniffing distance of the top three, you won’t touch a single thread of this dress.”

The hands on you grew hot, but not hot enough to burn. Bakugou slid a calloused hand over the curve of your waist, thumb brushing the underside of your breast.

“God, the fuckin’ attitude on you,” he said, almost reverently.

You felt your face warm under his scrutiny as he leaned closer. “You wanna know what's gotten into me? I wanted to melt that entire fucking thing off you last year. You were so fucking mouthy, such a little brat to me. Wanted to rip your dress off and fuck you right in the stairwell until you forgot you’d ever even heard of numbers.”

You shivered. Bakugou smirked, eyes darkening, leaning back in to bite under your jaw. You realized you’d lost your grip on him and willed your fingers to cooperate again.

“I fucking won that stupid award because I let you boss me around. I've waited an entire year. Now you’re gonna let me do whatever I want with you.”

Your legs went out from beneath you but Bakugou was already there, catching you under your thighs and hauling you up onto the countertop between the sinks. Your back brushed the mirror, glass cold under your shoulder blades.

“Y--you know, if you actually want to be number one, you can’t make speeches like you did,” you babbled nervously as he filled the space between your thighs. “Your public approval rating is part of your ranking, right? It’s weighted right below rescues…”

Bakugou paid you no mind, fingers already searching over your back to find the zipper to your dress. He yanked it down with little ceremony, seizing the front of your bodice to pull it off of you.

“I don’t need to be fucking nice if I’m the one saving the day,” he announced imperiously, leaning down to capture a nipple with his mouth.

Your hips jerked, and he pressed a hand to your thigh, holding you back down against the counter. Dimly, you registered that the words were familiar. “N--not--ah!--not this again.”

Bakugou didn’t deign to respond, instead doing something absolutely mind-bending with his tongue. You swore loudly, catching a fistful of his jacket. “Fuck, Katsuki!”

A hot palm slid up your thigh, gathering up the soft material of your skirt until he could slip a hand underneath. Calloused fingers trailed over your core with obvious intention. You inhaled sharply when he pressed them into you, leaning up to cover your mouth with his again.

Bakugou had you squirming wildly against him in barely a minute, snorting when you tried to get a hand on his zipper.

“Want me that bad, nerd?” he asked, pressing forehead to yours in an oddly tender move.

“If you don’t hurry the fuck up I’m gonna finish things myself,” you threatened, though Bakugou did not look at all as if he believed you.

He helped you get his zipper down, taking himself in hand, but he stopped just as he brushed your entrance, leaning forward to bite another kiss into your mouth.

“Now it’s time for you to make good on your end of the bet,” he growled, a smirk growing over his features. “You’ll tell me I’m the best and I was right all along.”

You stilled underneath him, disbelieving. “Are you--are you fucking serious.”

Bakugou pressed forward, just enough for you to feel the pressure of him on your clit. You fought down a noise like a whimper. Damn him.

“I jumped two ranks,” he said. “You’ll tell me I’m the best if you want me, nerd.”

“I am not gonna beg for you like this,” you announced, though it sounded a little more like a question than you had wanted it to.

Bakugou brushed his thumb over your clit again and little sparks danced over the corner of your vision. “Mmm, you’re gonna scream.”

You felt something like a tension snap inside you. Fuck it. He was so annoying but holy shit if he wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever encountered. If he needed his ego stroked, well it wasn’t nearly as much as you needed your own stroking.

You grit your teeth. “Ugh, fine--just--you’re the best, and you were right all along. Now will you please--”

You didn’t even get to finish before he was sinking into you, narrow hips fitting flush with your thighs. You swore at the feeling of fullness, and then he was moving, picking up into a frantic pace. He leaned forward, sealing his mouth over yours to swallow all the little noises you were making. It was mere minutes before you were shivering underneath him again, moving your hips to meet his, desperate for more, Katsuki, more.

“Ah fuck--so fucking good for me,” he grunted against your mouth, giving a particularly hard thrust, and that was all it took to unravel you.

You stifled a scream in the thick fabric of his jacket, arching up into him. He cursed and followed after you with a few more short thrusts, crushing you against the counter when he let his weight go slack.

You panted underneath him, catching your breath while your fingers slowly unclenched themselves from the hem of his suit jacket. Bakugou rubbed his face in the hollow of your shoulder, radiating smug satisfaction.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it, nerd?” he rasped, biting down lightly where he’d left the hickey earlier.

You pulled back, looking into his face again. He looked far too pleased with himself, but he was so handsome like this, all messy hair and a kiss darkened mouth. Your irritation with him fizzled out a little.

He flashed you a predatory grin. “You said it yourself--I'm the fucking best.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop your hand from coming up and tangling in his hair. “Shut the fuck up.”

Bakugou, predictably, did not look as if he was going to shut the fuck up at all. So you took matters into your own hands, and leaned in and kissed him again.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Stalker X Stalker, Part 10

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Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo

Marinette’s collection of vigilantes in her house was still growing, somehow. You’d think it would stop with just the ones that consistently lived in Gotham, but no.

Nightwing started dropping by whenever he was in town to try and teach her escrima. She wasn’t good with them because she wasn’t used to fighting people up close, but she didn’t really think that that was the reason why they were doing it.

Still, it was fun…

(Except for that one time they’d been heading back to her house and she dropped her phone down the drain and had to beg the rat-person -- she was pretty sure Nightwing had called them Ratcatcher? -- for help. It was very traumatizing. He’d given her a new phone but she was never going to recover emotionally from that day.)

And then, a few days before Thanksgiving, Flamebird had made an appearance.

The reason why was less fun, though.

She’d opened her blinds and stared at him for a few moments. He was leaning against her fire escape, hand pressed to his stomach.

“Hey, Robin, does Flamebird usually do the Napoleon pose?”

“The…? Oh, no, he does not.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I thought so.” She swung her window open. “Hi. Nice to meet you. What happened?”

“Got stabbed.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Okay, yeah, obviously, want to elaborate?”

“Got stabbed in the stomach,” he said, after a second’s thought.

So, no, then. She shrugged to herself and let him come inside.

“Right, Robin, go get the medkit out from under my sink,” she said, pulling a hairband from her wrist and tying her hair back.

Flamebird frowned. “Can’t you just undo everything with your magic?”

“Not magic,” supplied Tikki, popping her head out of Marinette’s pocket.

“FUCK,” yelped Flamebird.

Damian made the quiet clicking sound he made whenever he was about to say something rude but Marinette cut him off with a glare and pointed him towards the bathroom. Damian grumbled a little under his breath but obeyed for fear of being thrown out.

She turned back to Flamebird. “Also, that’s not how my ‘magic’ works. If I’m not involved in a fight…” She made a ‘poof’ motion with her hands. “No miracle cure.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Man, if I’d known that I would’ve just dealt with this myself.”

“Well, it is too late for that,” said Damian, who had come back out with a medkit. “Now, sit down, we will tend to your wound.”

And they did.

(Or, rather, Marinette did. It didn’t matter if she knew, logically, that he already knew how wounds looked and how to treat them, she just didn’t feel comfortable making him help. She sent him off to play with the cat and worked on dressing it. She’d made a mistake here by doing the normal routine while stitching someone up: asking about things they liked to distract them. He said he was an ‘avid reader’, she’d laughed and said that she probably wouldn’t know any of the books he mentioned because she hardly ever read in English, and now she was apparently in a book club. That was on her, she supposed, but it was still a little irritating.)

And that was all the vigilantes. They all came over from time to time. Sometimes they’d see each other and give each other awkward smiles or actively ignore each other, but it became a constant part of her life.

But it all came to a head one seemingly regular day.

She had been walking up the stairs to her apartment with Tim, ten bags of groceries loaded onto her arms and five on his (he was to open the door), and had nearly bumped into him when he stopped suddenly.

“Cass?” He asked, confused.

She raised her eyebrows just slightly. She’d thought everyone knew about each other but, now that she thought about it, because of the scheduling Tim wouldn’t really be around when everyone else came by.

He took Cass’s arrival in stride, though, fishing his key out of his pocket and pushing the door open.

He did not take in stride the fact that Duke, Damian, and Nightwing were all inside her house already. Duke was sitting on her counter, wrapped in a blanket as he scrolled through his phone. Damian was playing with Vanelope. Nightwing was doing stretches on her floor.

“Hey, look, more people that don’t live here,” Marinette said with only a hint of bitterness.

Nightwing glanced up. “You’re out of chips.”

“Already --?!” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Fine. Fine. I got more, anyways.”

Tim snapped out of it. He closed and locked the door quickly before sending Marinette a pout. “Alright, I can get you cheating on me with Cass, but come on,” he half joked.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “If one of the people I’m apparently cheating with is a five-year-old --.”

“TWELVE.”

“-- then I think you have more things to worry about than my serial adultery, darling.”

“... guess that’s true.”

“Also, I only buy groceries with you, so you’re clearly my favorite concubine.”

Duke grinned. “Actually --.”

“Except for that one time I asked Signal to go find ricotta because I’d forgotten it,” she conceded. “I guess he's my second favorite.”

Cass pouted and raised her hand.

“She makes a good case for herself. You’ve both been demoted,” she joked.

Tim was still pouting. Probably has something to do with going from favorite to second favorite. Who knows.

She rolled her eyes. She had bigger problems. Like her food. There were frozens and she was not going to lose her food to something as stupid and useless as the air. She waved him along as much as she could with the bags digging into her arms and started putting things away.

She tipped her head back after a second to squint at everyone. They were awkwardly staring at each other, for some reason… oh, right, they technically didn’t know each other.

“Uh, introductions, I guess. Signal, Robin, and Nightwing, meet my friends. Tim, Cass, meet my annoyances.”

Tim perked up a little at being called a friend rather than an annoyance. Problem solved. Kind of.

He set down his bags and leaned close to her ear. “So, they don’t know you know?”

“Duke does,” she mumbled back. “I’m not going to tell them about it, though, I want to see how long it takes them to notice.”

He snickered. “I can get behind that.”

“Good. You didn’t have a choice in the matter,” she joked, leaning forward to press a kiss to his nose.

She could hear Cass groan a little at the obvious affection and both Duke and Damian cringed. She fought the urge to laugh. It was just a little kiss on the nose, they didn’t have to act like it was scandalous or gross.

But, apparently, it was gross enough for Damian to grab her arm to try and pull her attention away from Tim (and physically pull her away from him, she noted, as she was forced to take a half-step back from him).

“Did you get more of my gummy bears?”

She rolled her eyes. “Did you ask for them? Did you tell me you were out?”

He looked a little put out and she felt bad enough to give up the act quickly:

“Yes, kid, I got you your weird vegan gummy bears.”

He beamed and started sifting through her bags.

She smiled fondly and ruffled his hair, ignoring the knife that was sent her way for the action with practiced ease, then started putting things away.

Everyone except Damian made their way over to help. There were no ulterior motives, they insisted, even as she watched Nightwing slip a bag of chips into Damian’s hoodie for safekeeping and Duke pocket an apple.

At least Cass and Tim were reasonably well-behaved, she thought right before she watched him split an orange with her.

~

Tim squinted at the three people below him.

Jon had come to visit because a) the no metas in Gotham rule had more or less stopped being enforced due to constant complaints from the Justice League, b) Damian needed friends his age, and c) it was Christmas and Jon was so sure that this year was going to be the year that Damian finally understood the holiday.

And, because Jon had come to visit, so had Conner. The worst part of being an older brother that Tim understood all too well.

But, now, he looked down at the three people gathered at the bottom of the stairs.

They were apparently competing to see who could be the stupidest. Steph was standing on a banister, Marinette was trying to sit on a vertical bo staff, and Conner was doing a handstand on both of their heads. It was a little shaky, what with Steph’s barely restrained laughter and the fact that bos are not meant to be balanced on and Conner trying to do tricks, but they were clearly having fun.

Tim crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the entrance to the cave. Did he have a type?

Their comms crackled to life and all three went stock-still, grins wiped from their faces briefly as they listened to see what had happened.

“I am requesting the night off to have an outing with Superboy.”

Bruce gave the grunt that meant ‘fine’.

The three relaxed now that they knew that everything was okay, quickly going back to their game. Marinette had added a surfboard. Steph was struggling with an exercise ball. Conner was slowly taking off fingers.

Tim sighed to himself. Yep. Dumbasses who can only be serious for truly important things -- and, even then, only for a few seconds at a time. That was his type. Someone, please, save him.

~

It had been a while since Marinette had gone out on her own (with the intention of staying alone, leaving for patrols didn’t count). Really, she normally wouldn’t, but she needed to pick up a piece of fabric she’d forgotten to get the day before and it wasn’t even a meter’s worth. She didn’t need help for that.

Besides, going by herself was much quicker. She was able to go by rooftop as Ladybug.

Of course, going as Ladybug had a risk to it that she didn’t realize until it was too late: responsibilities.

She groaned to herself as she made to jump to the next roof and her eyes landed on a person getting mugged in the alleyway below her.

She looked down at the bag with her fabric inside it and wondered if it was even worth leaving it there while she got rid of the attacker. Most of the time the people mugging people in Gotham were using fake guns. Even if they weren’t, muggings were common enough that most people had little on them and were only slightly annoyed when people tried to rob them. The person below was no exception, it seemed. They scoffed when the gunman poked their back.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” they said irritably.

Wait, shit, she knew that voice.

She squinted down into the darkness and, yep, she would recognize that almost unhealthily pale skin anywhere.

She dropped down into the alley between them and, to her slight surprise, it turned out the gun actually did have bullets in it. A shot rang out. She fell back a step, cradling her shoulder.

The gunman’s eyes widened. He hadn’t meant to shoot her. It had probably just been a split second reaction.

Unfortunately for him, getting shot really fucking hurts and she was going to take it out on him. Especially since he’d been trying to mug one of her friends. She glanced back at Tim, who was shaking and a little pale, and grit her teeth. Yeah, this guy was fucked.

Eventually, though, the pain in her shoulder, worsened by all the movement, got too unbearable and she rolled off of the mugger. She tied the man’s hands and feet behind his back with her yoyo and, after calling Miraculous Ladybug, called it a day. She’d get her yoyo back later.

For now, she pressed a hand to her ear. “Hey, Signal, I’ve got one for you.”

“You’re joining me for daytime patrols now?” He asked, his voice somehow brighter than the powers he had.

“Nah, just happened to come across…” She considered embarrassing Tim but decided against it when she saw her friend’s face. “... someone getting mugged while out today.”

He huffed a little but she ignored it in favor of relaying the address.

The perpetrator to be taken care of, she turned to the victim. She didn’t know whether the rules applied to people you knew, but she figured she might as well go through with the normal procedure. Tim liked procedure, it might help him.

So, step one: connect with the victim. She unzipped her hoodie and smiled brightly, making sure her eyes crinkled behind her mask.

Step two: check to make sure they aren’t going into shock.

Normally, she was able to skip this step. The miracle cure got rid of it if they had gone into it before the attack… but his eyes were somehow both fixed intensely on her like he was scared she’d disappear if he chanced a look away and extremely vacant.

She took slow, careful steps towards him, hand out to check his pulse.

Once she was close enough, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a hug. Marinette didn’t quite know what to do. The part of her brain still doing the normal procedure told her to hug back because this was a scared victim that wanted comfort, but the other part was tempted to push him off to check for a concussion… even though, logically, he shouldn’t have one because she had cast Miraculous Ladybug so her arm wouldn’t have a bullet in it anymore --.

Oh. She was stupid.

He’d watched his friend get shot and now he was freaking out. Like people are supposed to do.

She hugged him back, bringing a hand up to run through his hair.

“Would you like me to take you home?” She asked.

“My… my friend lives near here,” said Tim quietly, mindful of the fact that the mugger was still within earshot.

She nodded. “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”

He bit his lip so hard that she worried he’d break the skin and nodded.

She took him home and, with only a brief stop to keep Vanelope from escaping, set him down on the couch. She kept a hand touching him at all times as she gathered the blankets and pillows strewn about by all the visits the bats made. For once, she was glad she never really had time to clean, she didn’t want to let go of him when he was clearly so concerned about her.

Less than five minutes later she’d wrapped them both up as tightly as she could with as many blankets as she could reach. He rested his head against her shoulder, arms loosely draped around her under the blankets. Vanelope settled on their laps and started to purr; she made a mental note to give her a bunch of treats later.

But, for now…

She cupped his cheeks in her hands and waited patiently as he struggled to pull himself together enough to actually be present.

“Darling, I said I wouldn’t go anywhere. I’m not breaking that promise. Okay?”

He nodded slightly, finally releasing his lip to speak: “Okay.”

She pressed a kiss to his nose. A half smile made its way across his face.

“Now, how do you feel about Big Fish?”

He squeezed her a little tighter. “The circus scene is cute.”

She nodded her agreement. “I like the daffodil scene better, personally, but it is pretty cute.”

She turned the movie on.

~

Tim was sure he was overreacting. Of course he was. She hadn’t died, she wasn’t even hurt any more. It clearly didn’t bother her, he had ‘accidentally’ chosen that shoulder to rest his head on and she hadn’t so much as winced when he had. No, the only worry she had was about him.

So, he should be fine.

But he wasn’t.

She’d been shot and, for a second, he’d feared it would be another Darla situation. And he couldn’t deal with another Darla situation. He couldn’t. He had to believe that he was better than that high school Tim that had let all his friends die. Because if he wasn’t better than that meant he couldn’t have friends and he couldn’t deal with that either.

He didn’t want to be alone again.

No, he wouldn’t let that happen. He could think of a plan, surely. He was a planner, he found problems and he dealt with them. That had been his coping mechanism pretty much since birth and (if you ignore all the workaholic tendencies, independence issues, and General Trauma) it was working out pretty well for him. Can’t be sad if there’s work to do, after all.

Yeah. Work. He was good at work.

He bit his lip.

Alright, so the problem stemmed from his fear of being alone… which wasn’t going to be fixed anytime soon. Good coping mechanisms? In this family? Please. Next.

Alright, so the problem stemmed from his fear of her getting hurt.

Simple solution! Don’t let her get hurt!

… not as simple a solution as it sounded on paper.

She wasn’t going to stop vigilantism anytime soon. He wouldn’t make her, and she wasn’t going to do it on her own accord. Even if she decided to at some point Tim didn’t have much hope for it. Every person in the family had tried that already, it never worked. They’d say that it would be fine, that they were going to stop for their mental health or even just permanently end it… but family was family and how could someone sit back and watch family get hurt when they could do something about it?

So, that wasn’t going to happen. What other answers were there?

Well, he supposed that she had left on her own and that was the main problem. If she hadn’t left on her own then he wouldn’t have followed after her in secret and he wouldn’t have gotten attacked in the first place.

But he couldn’t be around much more without it being weird unless he…

He couldn’t…

Could he?

He figured it was worth a shot. And he should ask now. If she said no he wouldn’t have to worry about her thinking him weird, she’d just assume it was a request made while in the middle of shock and forget about it.

He hesitantly let go of his lip.

“Hey, Bean?”

She stopped pretending to watch Big Fish for the sake of giving him privacy. “Yeah?”

“Remember when… I…” He bit his lip, trying to think of a better way to phrase it, but he couldn’t. There really was no casual way to ask. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “Can I, maybe, move in with you?”

She stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, before quickly shaking her head.

He must have looked pretty put out, because she rushed to explain herself:

"You’re under emotional duress, darling, it wouldn’t be right to say yes.”

He nodded his understanding and it was silent for a bit before he eventually said: “But, if I asked tomorrow… would you say yes?”

She looked at him for a while, her face unreadable, before she gave him a hesitant smile.

“Well, I already said that you basically lived here. I suppose there wouldn’t be anything wrong with making it official.”

[muffindaddystyles]

Harry Styles x Barista!Reader.

Smut, pain kink and over-stimulation.

Mentions of past trauma and healing!

MASTERLIST, LETS TALK LOVIES!

Author's note: Your reblogs and appreciations means alot to me, token me a smile with your love.

His breath smells of strawberries and coffee, plushie lips dangerously close to her's making her half voracious gaze flicker between his lips and up at Tofu, kiss him kiss him you bloody fool, reeled in her head, "here lemme . . ." He notices her jitteriness fetching the birdy for her. She hiccups with a suck of breath when his knuckles brushed the inside of her palms while giving Tofu to her.

"Oi, Harry budge over you bugger!!" She hisses with sleepy voice but in return he squishes her more.

OR

Y/N has a phobia for needles and Harry's her damsel in distress.

//

Something about bungalows not having stairs makes Y/N's cheeks puffs out in disappointing amazement. The fact she couldn't even climb at the rooftop when the summer sky's ornamented with cosmic stars twinkling with the each buzz of music from inside. She hiccups a giggle when the cool zephyr blew her frock away giving out a glimpse of her itty-bitties, glad no-one's in the diameter to have a show. The discernment falls to nothingness when she hears distinct rustle of someone behind the fat‐very-rooty-tree, it widens her eyes into saucers as she blinks comically.

It's not a squirrel she could tell. Couldn't be Ronny who went to take a wee cause all the darn washrooms inside were occupied and his bladder being the weakest, he went for a bush.

But, that bush's behind her and for a moment she forgot her friend even existed since she muted out his piss taking whistle a while ago.

All her frenzied assumptions fails when two figures camouflaged in the darkness tumbles from behind the tree. Her cheeks splashes with burning crimson when they separate with a loud, wet kissing noise and the two men doesn't seem any shy about it unlike Y/N who's foozling the frill of her dress as if she got caught in the middle of a fuck in public loo. Not that, it everrr happened with her, still she has an example set for such incidents.

"Oh, hi." The warble of unprevious voice wins in gaining her attention and she tries to squint through the pocosin of his eyes which glimmers under moonlight if she glances away too quick, she startles in her spot when a gruff voice speaks over them, "Ronny couldn't even occupy a shot of vodka in his bladder." She couldn't seem to flit her gaze away from his cherry of lips glistening from whatever activities they were having before (the only features she could see in such illumination) as the other guy and Ronny bantered off passing a cig in between them.

"Oi, shut up will ya." Ronny locks his arm with Y/N and she flinches that he hasn't even washed them yet, "c'mon truffles we don't wanna be here." He announces dragging her away and the humid air around them bubbled with chuckles.

"Huh." She quips all lost between the interaction and accidentally bumping into two beautiful men kissing eachother, she's totally jealous! Poor thing tries to jerk the mud from her toes and to have a last glimpse of the man with marble irirses.

"D'ya think I've a chance with that daddy-long- legs-one? Dunno, but he intimidates me so bad." Ronny whispers to her and she frowns sniffing with her already runny nose from being a bit tipsy, it's making her bouncy little by little and she knows the bevvys she had will have a full swing within the night, "why? He seems nice."

"His hotness truffles, it intimidates me." He scrapes his already chipped nail polish after washing his hands from the basin throwing towel at her face, she just sighs putting it back in the rack.

"How about you talk to him first." Parties has teeny perks of them and gigantic disadvantages 1) Ronny gets a school crush at every boy he looks at. 2) They get more sweaty, stinky, gluey and more wilder till the clock hits 4 am. Honestly, even if it wasn't for the free bevys she would have never stepped in.

"That's the hard part." They push people aside like stuffies getting cursed and groped in return.

"He's not gonna know himself, Ron, you dump-stick." Good she doesn't need to yell like before as the music has dimmed to a hum possibly about to shut down within minutes. Halting, beside some people crowded alongside the couch some sitting on it and their confused heads shots up at first at the sound of familiar vibrations.

The worst scenarios of someone having a bullet up in their hole and peeps around having a show passes for a mere sec in their heads, together, that's why they're friends since the first semester of UNI.

But, upon seeing what's the ruckus about Ronny shakes his head in utmost panic, "oh no . ." He tries to escape from her grip but she tugs him from collar, "Please Ronny, swear 'm ready to over come my fear! Nothing's gonna happen to me." They stand beside the guy sheepishly (like two elementary kids deciding who'll step inside the staff room first) a gun perched in his hand and Y/N realizes that he indeed's the same guy she met outside, this time she could see him properly and those hickorey of curls brushing the eternity of his popping clavicles.

His back to them but she could see the flex of his muscles from under the sheer black of his shirt with the each movement he does with his gun, she admits that he got prettier back than her.

"Ey Harry this's my friend Y/N and she wanna overcome her phobia of needles, be a damsel in distress pal." So, they know eachother. The whizz of gun stops midway and he dismisses the drunk dude under him tilting his chin to meet her eyes, and it was worth it as it took tiny gasp from her.

He's way beautiful than he was in the darkness.

Ronny was right. It daunts her a bit. The name Harry itself is some kind of royalty.

"Oh, hi there, again." He greets her with a warm smile and it glitter-glittery her insides, will you please not she scolds herself. It's probably the alchol her subconscious assures her but her nervousness from the idea of really doing this says otherwise.

"Have a seat, love." Oh holy goodness. He's as sober as judge and she at whole is miffed.

//

Harry isn't a popular senior. No. His charm's something that woos everyone and his name's always on the top list of invites, he avoids them though unless it's his closest friend. Him remaining to himself has casted a spell on everyone that his personality's intimidating and he's this sex god who has an only concern with fucking people.

He could be called a nerd from his grades everytime being higher than last semester but his attire and being a shining star of the Christmas tree gives it away.

Everyone likes him, ah-ah no everyone absolutely loves him. The thing's he has never felt the same in his twenty-one years of life and that's a fat bummer.

He just gives that "please stay away from me" aura, brows always sewn together and bottom lip jutted makes him appear rather passive aggressive to strangers (well the people who knows him loves him for being the most chill person walking around them).

Right now, he got a tat gun in his hand and everyone's getting a drunk tattoo for the remembrance of this stupid party or just that they've a kink for pain, possibly for humiliation too because what could a tattoo gotten in an unconscious state could bring you?

"Y'alright there?" He asks her and she bobs her head clamping her hands shut in her lap. The rainbow broch on his loafers intrigues her about his fashion senses, it makes her jealous she can't afford to have her own style, "Yeah!" She avoids to even give a spare glance to the gun in his hand because she knows the moment she'd, it will make her dizzy.

She feels bad for cliff hanging him to herself only but he doesn't seem to mind at all. Waits patiently for her to guard herself as Ronny pats her back like she's about to summo wrestle.

"Want me to start it?" He knows how bad it's for some people. Many times he had an encounter with weak hearted persons who got dragged into his parlour by their friends and ended up running away, "Can you give me a moment?" She lifts her head towards him and it makes his forehead knit into concerned lines.

The poor bug's giving a purple face as if she's about to throw up and her ears pink.

"Take all y'want, darlin'." His gentleness flows over her head, she thinks that the music has died or she has gone deaf, can't be neither, cause no-way that such a sweet call wouldn't make her toes all gooey.

"'M ready!" She puffs out a huge exhale moving her shaking wrist nearer to his grasp and he gives her a comforting look before wrapping his fingers one by one around her delicate wrist, skidding the stool he's been sitting on closer to her, "al'ight truffles 'ere we go — wouldn't hurt promise." He decides to stick with truffles since Ronny calls her with the nickname everytime he's at Harry's. Thought his blabbers of his friend were exaggerated coating of sugar but when she's sitting infront of him with those glinting eyes and soft flesh in which his lanky fingers seems to turn pudgy, he gets it why he calls her that.

He keeps on glancing up at her to see if she's okay — she has her hand placed atop Ronny's thigh while he distracts her with his "let's throw shade at mean bitches together" game and Harry just hovered the nib of it over her skin when she passed out but Ronny quickly placed his palm against her cheek to pull her back towards his shoulder.

"'M good . ." She comes back from it with a weak whsiper-y voice trying to straighten up but the instant her already blurry vision falls at the needle again making a line so small it isn't even visible she passes out again and this time Ronny seems unfazed talking to a girl beside him (trust the lad they've done it multiple times but the pain and fear of needles never let her have a single tattoo inked on her skin), leaving Harry to sweat over her.

Sighing he shuts down the machine putting it aside and presses the back of his hand against her forehead --- to be more appropriate, and when she remains as if in the land of nod completely knackered out and woolly in Ronny's arms he realizes that she has passed out for real.

"Truffles?" He doesn't get a response from her.

//

She puffers out her lips blowing raspberries gazing at the sunny sky from the clear glazed window of the shop, chin resting in the softness of her palm as the cosy hall of it emptied from the rush the time it striked noon. The start of her shift's always effete and warm with honey-bees buzzing over the pots of pastel flowers outside, but the evenings are most tiresome and she has to do the closing in a grumpy mood.

"Can you pass me the icing tube, forgot it under the counter shelf 'cos of that pain in ass customer." He's their regular. Has constant complaints that their tarts are too sugary and they need to thicken the formula for their lattes, Y/N just bobs her head at his tantrums finding a way to shoo him away with a promise of next time, "yeah uhh — " Gripping the edge of marble counter she squats down and giggles at herself as she looks funny with her knees making a tent of her ruffle frock.

The door-bell chimes indicating the presence of someone but she goes for her rampage knowing Cora's there to attend them and she was about to pull her head back when she hit it quite painfully against the upper shelf, "Ow!!" She squeaks rubbing the sore spot stabling herself while Cora chuckled taking the tube from her hand to go inside.

She never expected someone to occur at this hour, moreso, she never expected someone like him to pop out of nowhere at their shop. He just doesn't seem like a person to have a merry making at little cosy cafés all to himself, it's been driving her crazy, she cringes at herself everytime when the humiliation of passing out infront of him invades her thoughts.

Half of her heart wanted to see him again and other half was glad she never bumped in him — but seems like nature was evily against her.

"Oops hi!" When she couldn't fiddle with anything she adjusts her frilly apron and with her wrist brushes her loose tresses away which her bow failed to keep. He blinks for several times sipping in the consequence, though it gives her time to take in his appearance.

He's yet again, wearing a sheer shirt with white flower buds spiraling from his abs towards the broad of his chest displaying his inked skin underneath beautifully — it shimmers every time he shifts on his feet letting the sunlight fall on him. His curls tamed and silkier than before, he groomed himself too good it puts Y/N to shame for being a girl, a careless one.

"You work here?" He asks with a drawl as if he has a all the time to dedicate to her, "nope just broke in to do a fat robbery — wanna join?" He cackles, hard it quelled his tummy and it also made her smile blushy-ly that he didn't find her humour boring.

"Okie . . S' what you'll have?" Brassing the belly of his nose he clears his throat roaming his eyes to catch a perfect spot, "'s okay if'll be waitin' fo' someone there?" He points at the nook aligned with the fuchsia coloured book shelves, wooden pots hanging and embroidered throw pillows piled and some overflowing from the love seats.

"Totally!!" She chirps. The thought of him waiting for a date sinks summat a tiny globe of mud in her stomach and dunno why — She wishes she could've things that other people have without burning themselves in effort unlike her.

She watches him getting comfortable, scrutinising around with curious and adorable big peepers. He'd give her a shy smile everytime he'd catch her staring and she'd just shake her head treating her back to track, that he's on a date, but not with you.

She didn't forgot to ask him if he needs anything putting a glass of water at his coffee table without him requesting, it's perpetually hot and even her throat'd get dry after some minutes. He's been here for two hours and even though the weather cooled down spotting pearly drops of rain, perspiration still beaded at his forehead.

The bustle of on goers kept on dying and she feels bad for him, knowing the end of it, she's been there before many times. Even visualised it at this same shop far more she should thinking the world's kind enough to even let their date know with q single message.

Sensing his timorousness she paddles towards him getting a coconut cookie from the jar, onto the plate and sliding it in his line of vision. He seems flustered — everytime they've interacted she's the one to be not in one place and now he's ripping the threads of his tattered skinny jeans.

"You can munch on this cookie, if you want to!" He looks back and forth between the cookie and her, fuziness spreading in his chest glad at her kindness and enough trust in him to not to kick him out, "Thank you." He grabs it taking a bite and she giggles when in the single one he left no crumbs behind, his mouth's big, shut it already! and so pink so pulpy, oh my goodness I hate youuu!!

"'M sure your friend's on way, it's rainy, might —" He cuts her off with a dissapointed spurt of breath, "dunno." He sulks into sofa folding the corner of book's page.

"You still've an hour till the cáfe closes, don't loose hope!" She pats his shoulder and he gives her a weak smile doing that bunny scrunch of his nose, combing his already wrecked hair and thanks her for the next thousand time.

//

Harry had worst dates. This seems to top them. To be honest because of Y/N being here. What will she think? What if she thinks it's his fault? That he's a broken dummy who nobody wants to date? He wants to grumble and call his date to end things but he waits patiently as the sky turned lilacs of night.

Y/N feels remorseful and angry at the person who stood him up this pathetically. With a sad sigh she turns the closed sign to display outward silently looking at him while he's in his own trance, she disappears into the kitchen and Cora gives her a knowing eye.

"Not believing in love's my greatest descion up till far. It's impossibly hard out there." She retorts. Placing a hot chicken steak atop the alfredo pasta and sprinkles parsiman making it appetizing, "Tell him to better end things with a pig like them." She says in all seriousness handing the tray to Y/N.

He's there. Gazing outside with lips pressed into a thin line and he seems down with his loose errand of curls tucked into a man bun now, a perfect hairdo outta frustration "Harry." She keeps her voice low not to startle him gaining his attention.

"You didn't have to." He shakes his head and she made a noise un-recognized by him putting the tray on the table and moves the ottoman with her feet closer to him sitting on it, "let's be eachother's date for a day." She hands him a fork and he accepts gladly. His sulkiness wooshing away when she digs in taking a bite and smearing the sauce all over her lips.

"If you don't mind me asking, is it the same behind-the-tree guy?" He nods. She frowns spitting grumpily, "what a prat." With the help of knife she tears the steak equally sliding it to his side and he smiles boyishly sucking the corner of his lip inside.

"'M sorry, Harry." She squeezes his knee and it bundles up the air in his lungs, "'s okay truffles — glad you were there fo' a rescue."

"Y/N." She tells him forwarding her hand to shake and he slips his calloused ones to envelop her warmth. His cheeks turns pink when his stomach made noises of starvation, "you need to eat c'mon!" She nudges his elbow and he obliges.

After, filling their tummies satisfied and full she hands him a cuppa of latte with a foamy sleeping kitty floating over it she even made two eyes and the uwu kitty smile with the cocoa powder, "pardon me if it seems like I murdered the poor thing . . . 'm still learning from Cora." His giggles were absolutely amazed and gleeful.

"It looks so good, I don't feel like stirin' it." He pats the bum of steamed floffy kitty with the curve of his tea spoon and it makes her giggle some. Relishing onto strawberry pastries and crumpets oozed into butter, sipping onto their lattes, watching the sky turning dark with the rain while Cora left them hours ago to themselves.

She puts a velvet cloak around herself after closing the shop and Harry waits for her as she takes her bicycle, "Thank ye' Y/N. 'S kind of you." He stirs his gaze from his shoes to her face smiling brightly at her and she waves him off with blushy cheeks, they walk along under the shelters of sideways shops avoiding to get soaked while she holds the steering of her bicycle.

"You can lounge at my place, till the rain stops." When he shakes his head she quips turning into the street, "I insist." They stop infront of the old white sculptured building having two floors in total.

The first thing she does entering into her flat's greet Tofu (it's a Bush-tit a white furball with two curious tich button eyes) leaving Harry to get out of his shoes and slip into her house ones (they barely fits him -- making him chuckle at the size difference).

His eyes giving a beautiful glimmer under the glow of the yellow light as he looks around the space, it's simple, with a bedding on wooden floor, a circle shelf against the window lined up with green plants, a desk opposite to it and a golden standing cage of her pet bird.

"Hi bubba missed me much?" She opens the cage to let it out and the chonky white bird sits on her fingers happily, "Harry meet Tofu." His lips curve upward at the lil thing as he caress it's fluffy head.

"Tofu looks like a snowball." He muses with bambi eyes and she agrees with excitement, "Sometimes I wanna squish him, cause he's just too cute." His eyes widens comically laughing softly at her statement.

"Evil thought said out aloud with cuteness still remains evil, love." Tofu hoped over Harry's finger and he takes him towards his shoulder making it sit there but he has another plans, to rest his furry bum over Harry's head making both of them giggle, "c'mon now birdy time to fill your tummy." She tip-toes to catch him in her palms and knocks her nose with Harry's in the way.

His breath smells of strawberries and coffee, plushie lips dangerously close to her's making her half voracious gaze flicker between his lips and up at Tofu, kiss him kiss him you bloody fool, reeled in her head, "here lemme . . ." He notices her jitteriness fetching the birdy for her. She hiccups with a suck of breath when his knuckles brushed the inside of her palms while giving Tofu to her.

"Make yourself home!" She announces going to feed her pet and Harry flops onto her bed quite comfortably with his sweny legs stretched wide over the floor. They watched episodes of 'Bridgeton' wounded under her blankets and she almost fell asleep when he offered her genuinely.

"I'll help ye' have a tattoo, tiny atleast."

"Means alot to me." She yawns pondering with lug brain whether to snuggle into him or not, she did anyways. In the morning she was woken up by cold sheets and beeps of messages from Harry that made her feel she endured wings of fairy and she's bathing in the glitter of happiness.

//

She stares at the shop infront of her in amazement. It's friday night. She winded up all her assignments and came to this place exactly how it was mentioned in the address, when she enters inside spare teens and a bulky man was waiting outside the office thing-y . . .? Y/N presumes — an assistant chewing loudly on her gum talking onto phone with someone in hushed bratty tone and when Y/N knocks at the counter her piercing stare startles her a bit.

"Yes?" How rude! Y/N thinks with a pouty lip at her striking tone and she clears her throat, "'m here to meet . . . Harry." The snarky assistant rolls her eyes dismissing Y/N quickly to move back to her lazying, "He's busy." Y/N picks her finger to interject murmuring something under her breath and strolls back to wait with everyone.

Sun sets outside shimmering evening pink inside the lobby and the door atlast opens making her head perk up, "pet?" He looks sternly to his assistant but she doesn't seem fazed.

"Harry." Y/N grins, "Fo' how long you've been here?" She feels good someone's caring for her even though it's just for the fact she waited some hours for him, "doesn't matter can 've a tour?" He nods and the bratty assistant eyes him furiously taking Y/N's hand to lead her.

Harry watches her with dimply smile when she babbles at the details of his working station, "do I sit here?" She asks excitedly and he shakes his head, "yes, you may." They scrutinise through his sketches of designs together and she squeezes his wrist.

"Harry you're so talented! Look at 'em." He never felt this flustered with the compliments before button nose scrunching adorably. She chooses a a small plain jamsine flower nothing more, nothing less watching collect things for the process, "it's one of me mama's favourite." He exclaims rather proud snapping the latex gloves round his wrist.

"Where d'ya want it?"

"Where it hurts less." She replies wiping the sweat away with her frock, "it's outer shoulder, yer arm, calves and arse — " His mischievous grin awfully stretchy and she she slaps his bicep playfully.

"Outer shoulder?" She tells him confused to herself. He agrees strolling his stool near to her as she turns her back to him; his fingertips twitches when he pushes her hair to the side.

"Can you uh . . mm." She groans trying to reach for the zipper of her frock and he smoothes down his erratic heartbeat muttering, "yeah sure." She digs her nails into the delicate flesh of her palms when his calloused cold knuckles brushed deliberately against her skin while skimming the zip down slowly. Her eyelids flutter like butterfly wings when he slides her sleeve down her arm revealing her shoulder and it's so supple that Harry had to come back from his reverie; lick his lips to moisture.

He applies the numbing cream and she hisses softly the leather of seat sticking to her calves, her nerves jumbles and body startles when Harry starts the gun without warning her.

He loops his arm around her waist atop her thigh massaging it assuringly — sure it did nothing but to make her core throb insatiably as his rasp melted in her ears, "you're okay puppy." She gulps saying no word feeling her body getting hot at the each stroke of his thumb over her waist line.

"Ah -- Harry." She gasps out of air grasping his hand tightly at the sting of pain. She's baffled at the reactions of her body, her panties getting wet and the displeasing constant pricking of needle quenching out noises she never thought she was able to give out. When she whines and squirms Harry presses her down with force shushing her, "bug just a mo' it's smaller and would be done in seconds." She kisses her teeth bobbing her head vigorously and Harry chuckles at her effort remaining polite.

"Done!" He announces pulling away to admire it and when he hears the lil sniffles he quickly leaves everything sitting infront of her on the seat, "darlin' don't like it when ye' cry." He wipes her tears away not even glancing at her exposed collarbones and the plump flesh of her tits barely covered with her arm.

Soft and squishy, soft and squishy, soft and squishyyyyy.

His mind screams but her whimpery voice distracts him, "'m just gleeful that I've a tattoo because of you." He wraps it up expertly and zips her dress back with ever gentleness, "happy tears then?" She giggles with a grateful nod.

"Want a hug?" He thinks she deserves one for being brave and nice against her fear, "cuddle me up." She murmurs with swollen eyes and peachy cheeks. Uff — it stirs his cock in his jeans arousing the need to be with her everytime.

He rests his chin mushily into the crook of her neck swarming his arms around her waist to squeeze her warmly and she snuggles against his throat, damp lips puckering against his adam apple making it bob.

He feels jammy to be able to have a moment like this with her.

"Chinese takeout?" He collects his sketch journals, his phone, fedora apparently, keys of his motorbike and a spare helmet for her, "Yes please!"

//

They ate the take out perched against his bike with the meadow vast laying feet aways from them, under the breezy sky they conversed and Harry already got a tender spot for her in his heart. He never reaches to a stage where he could get to know someone with this passion and Y/N isn't from someone who'd guard herself from him just because his father was in the bad business.

As the evening brisked with cool dew of summer grass Harry leaned into her more and more.

He finds her little things infatuating, her bonding with Tofu and her dire wish to make good bum steamed kitties on the lattes, she has an irrefutable love for floral dresses and her homely habbit is doing ribbon work.

She got to know that Harry owns the tattoo shop, teaches few blokes the skill of it in free hours. He'ad attended lots of parties raving ones and the boring ones of higher socials, never lets any stranger step inside his loft which's situated upstairs of his shop. His father does all the criminaly things, he's this master mind in doing the evil things for people from getting money out of their enemies yada yada and Harry despises him for it, moreso, that he left them. He doesn't want to be associated with him in any case — he's none like him, he's kind and soft-hearted like his mother.

Y/N loves his goofy side. The one that cracks jokes and puns -- makes her fall in love with him without her even trying.

Last and foremost he has the render love for sheer shirts — told her he has shimmery ones for the fancying off.

"S'm no stranger then." She quips beside his shoulder as Harry unlocked his home's door. He glances her timidly amicably hovering over her lips, "absolutely not, yeh me bezzy." He raises his fist and she bumps it giggling.

//

Y/N that night sleeping on his bed dreamt of them laying together into the pillows of growing daffodils of meadow, lining up the stars in the sky and tell each other what they made ----- galloping rabbit, a slipping cake and she'd laugh with ugly snorts when Harry tells her that he sees a massive dick.

His grin proud and mellow to make his bezzy laugh. She squeaks when he pulls her onto him but soon her dreamboat sinks as she stirs at the warmth swallowing her whole.

She startes from her blurrines at something trapping her down till she recognizes the familiarity of two mascular arms sewn around her waist and what the fuck?

Harry made a makeshift pallet on the floor and right now she's all over him, pressed tightly against his chest — her cheeks turns red with embarrassment from being this clumsy and falling over him in her sleep.

"Oi, Harry budge over you bugger!!" She hisses with sleepy voice but in return he squishes her more.

Taking her face out of his neck she admires the softness of his features when he's asleep and the dotting of beautiful moles, sighing a huge relaxed puff of breath and canoodles into him like an affection starved kitty.

//

It's another cool rainy day and Y/N keeps on swabbing the droplets of water off from her eyes with her elbow trying to paddle her bicycle. She was on her way to Harry's when the skies betrayed her. Standing on his doormat she soaks it completely waiting for him to answer the door, sad, that her gift was ruined too.

"Lovin' ye'll catch a cold – shit come inside." Concerned he ushers her inside his loft, halts in his tracks when she remains behind adoring a gruffy pout, "what is it?" He asks walking to her and cups her cheeks the instant.

"Embroidered ye' a shirt 's destroyed now." She raises it to show him and he stares it for good seconds before swiping her off the floor – hugging her to radiate the sentiment of endearment he carries for her in his heart. It bloats her cheeks pressed against his clavicles and her feet dangles as he sways them with a happy noise of favourite melody she's unfamiliar with, "Thank you, thank you, thank you." He kisses her temple and it lingers at the tip of his tongue.

I could kiss you right fuckin' now, pet.

"Harry you got wet too, dummy!!"

"Oops, guess we both have to change now."

Harry already set mixers for her on the luke points so that she wouldn't have to pull out her hair just to take a shower (his shower's quite complicated) leaves his shirt and boxers for her on his bedside, putting the lilac sheer shirt she embroidered for him in the dryer.

When she comes outside with trippy hair he already has two glasses of wine filled and windows closed to keep her warm.

She isn't a wine person. She was never able to afford it and it never settled with her tummy (she shares too much and feels bubbly with the rose coloured bevvy). Harry's gaze rakes from floor to her ankles snapping directly to her face and it's just snoggles his heart with fondness, seeing her drooled in one of his shirts.

"Need ya not to worry ye'r gift is good as before." He assures her and she flops onto the sofa beside him, "Thank you Y/N." He says genuinely and she waves him with small smile, "hush you."

They drink in silence, then soon it rośed their cheeks and noses making them giggly and floaty. A bottle gone in just a span of a time. She rumbles her lips stretching out, the twinkle of her belly showing and he does the same, eyeing him she slides down on the floor perching her elbow over the coffee table and YET AGAIN HE FOLLLOWS HER ACTIONS.

"Are you mimicking me?" She squints at him and he squints back, "are ye' mimickin' meh?" She smacks his bicep playfully and when he does the same though the force of it lighter than her's adoring mischievous grin making her squeal with chuckles, "Harry!"

He quips back in equal girlish pitch, "Harry!" blinking peepers up at her softly — to test her fates, the recipe of her drunken state and her heart bursting with affection for him she jests at him.

"I like you and might be falling in love with you." She says without holding back a breath and his eyes widen in an animated way chin slipping from his palm, "You what?" He's in utter shock. He has never come across the words she just said with so much delicacy and sincerity — it boggles him to an extent his tongue got tied.

"Say it back now, huh?" She smirks at him shaking from inside counting on to get rejected and ridiculed. Upset at herself more than him at his lack of response, clearing her throat she whispers.

"So — " But, her apology strucks in her throat when he pulls her to himslef with a gentle grip to her elbow. Grabs her jaw tenderly and with the ardent boldness smushes his lips against her's to seal his affinity for her in a kiss that's so soft it melts her inside. His hands brews at her sides and glides up to their destination, to cup her cheeks and deepen the kiss while billowing her in his lap comfortably. He devours the plumness of her lips, tracing the curve of her bottom one with his warm tongue and kisses the corner of her lips again and again making her puff out air from her nostrils.

He has kissed people and it was always to lead something to satisfy the cavity of loneliness, but this, this already feels like home sitting infront of the Autunm fire eating cookies and drinking milk. She feels like the mold he's meant to melt into and explore every ridge of it.

She doesn't not know what's filthier the string of spit that's connecting them or his raspberry lips that she could kiss and kiss for forever, he doesn't stop there pecks her several times with lil smooches, "You're really good at it." She winds her arms tight around the nape of his neck murmuring against him (she wants to make him feel appreciated), his cock chubbing up in his trousers and it lulls her head against his cheek upon feeling it. The thought of having him hard for her boasts the genitilty in herself and she kisses his smiling mouth.

"Wanna make ye' feel good." He presses his lips back against her's with more passion than before and tips her chin with his thumb to stamp lil pecks down her throat feeling his lips tingling to kiss her again, it's way better than he envisioned. Her softness could swallow him and the thought makes his hips stutter imagining his hard prick sucked inside her swelled up walls. His large calloused hands meander down her bottom taking the ripeness of it in a bunch of squeeze.

"On the bed." He pats her bum pinching it playfully and she squeaks obliging him giggles when she bounces over the bed. Him crawling behind her as lion ready to feast over a hare.

Leaning against the head of the bed he lays her between his wide spread legs, her back against his chest and their fronts facing the tall framed mirror infront of them.

"Comfy?" She bobs her head gulping cause no one has ever cared what'll be consuming for her and what not, "I want ye' to look in the mirror sweet girl, at us." He rasps in her ear stroking the hilt of her jaw in continuous circles and when she hums fluttering her eyelids, arching her back at the throb of her pussy and his dirtiness making her slick down to her bum he glides his thumb inside her mouth telling her to, "get 'em proper wet for me." She does coating his thumb with her saliva and flicking her tongue over it many time while he glazes his palms over her ribs, under the crescent of her tits shirt pulled to her collarbones.

She gags around his digit when he took her perky nipple in between his middle and index pulling it then kneads it with a kiss to her earlobe getting her out of his boxers telling her, "enough, pet." When she doesn't listen to him and kept on sucking thinking of his cock in her mouth he gruffs splitting her thighs apart and pressing the soles of her feet tightly against the mattress with his own ankles, "I said enough." Shushing her hungry kitten whimpers he trails his wet thumb down her fallen lip and chin, popping her shirt open and rims it around her areola, "s' soft wanna rub me cock between 'em tits." The shiver that hits her makes her squirm and Harry gives a chaste kiss to her open mouth putting his thumb at her entrance ready to play with her cunt.

"Your eyes open 'em fo' me, puppy." He ducks down to kiss her not letting her turn around himself so that her neck doesn't strain while caressing his fingers up and down in her slickness making soapy noises on purpose, when she finally looks in the mirror locking eyes with him as if he's holding the most precious gem in his arms — the sight turned her spine into a sharp arrow, "c - ca-can I've more?" She gasps squeezing his bicep pussy lips fluttering and her hole palpitates aching for him.

"My polite girl." He smiles awfully fonded at her and she nods licking her lips to speak, "'m good, good always." He pushes his two fingers inside her cunt and she moans with her whole will trying to sink herself to his knuckles nails digging into his shoulders, "I know ye'r." He assures her sliding them out and teasing her little pink asshole turning her into a whining mess.

She twitches around his fingers when he pumps them back along with her sticky wetness and fucks her with them, flickering her clit with his other hand and kneads the inside of her fleshy thigh. She gives out a gaspy moan of unbearable pleasure when his cock's stiffeness rubs between her asscheeks, "ye' feel it? S' fo' you, gonna stuff yeh full of me cock, fuck you nice n' warm and cum all over yer pussy. How you deserved to be fucked, is that okay?" She never expected him this much of a lewd talker — hell she didn't even expected him to step out of his conserved, rather shy demeanour, "yes, yes, yes." She visioned him as a curt dom, who's more into BDSM but he's warm and caring with her. Just in few second of them doing it he proved it how much he's loving to please her.

"Ah! 'm gonna cum . . . gonna —" His sweet vulgar words combined with him toying, rubbing and fingereing her already swollen pussy tips her to the edge she was desiring to get from him, "cum all over me fingers. Want it s' bad from ye darlin', to see you." He says in a tone that's on the verge of pleading but holds a commanding hint under it and with her bones all stiffing, her skin burning and heart buzzing she snaps into her own dreamy world gushing over his fingers with her juices.

"Oh . . Harry." She loudly mewls thrashing in his arms from the intensity of her orgasm and he holds her tight with his arms wrapped around her torso, kisses to the curve of her neck and exposed collarbones. He notices her stiring away from his hand due to sensitivity and takes out his fingers with a squelching popping noise that made her blink from her semblance. Her chest heaves as she watches him in the mirror licking her cum off his wrists with the tip of his pink tongue, "mhm tastes s' sweet." One by one he sucks his finger humming around them seductively spiking her insides yearing to be fucked by him, "just like you sweet puppy."

Gently laying her down he knees infront of her getting out of his flimsy shirt and Y/N admires the flounce of tattoos trailing from his pecks down his adorable love handles. Her gaze stops at the his happy trail leading down to where he's swelled up against his zipper and she hasn't seen someone so beautiful in her entire life, he shimmies his joggers down teasingly with a smirk and she whines hiccuping when his cock slaps against his lower abdomen making her eyes go wide.

"Oh my . . " She gasps at the gorgeous sight of his rock-hard cock between his supple thighs. He's beautifully big, satiny and a dot of shade lighter than his lips making his prick so kissable, would it even fit?? She could already imagine it stretching her out gracefully and stimulating her in ways her fingers could never, "you're so gorgeous button."

The shiny swollen tip, and the dollop of pre-come weeping down his slit alluring her to have him in her mouth but he strokes it not to waste it.

"What's the pout fo' darlin'?" He asks as she stares it making him all shy but he overcomes it persistent to make her feel good (she shared with him that she never knew what being cared feels like) he wanna gives her all lovin' as she did to him the day in cafe. Cups the nape of her neck to bring her for another kiss splitting his thumb into her hair and the moment is so vulnerable and saccharine as he snogs her to floatiness, "will make sure it fits — make you cum many times, baby." He flips her gently.

"On ye tummy fo' me, like an atta pup ye're." It knots her stomach into ropes and she jolts squealing softly into pillows when he smacked her peach watching it jiggle while tugging at his prick to coat it with his thick wetness.

He moans biting his lower lip lulling his head over his shoulders stroking the head of his cock between her asscheeks and round her entrance not pushing at once torching both of them, "you're so delicate wanna be slow with you." He whispers to her pressing his front against her shoulders while wrapping his hand around his shaft to push inside her.

"It's okay!" Her tiny squeaks rolls into a moan when the head of his cock settles inside her and when she twitches around it he cruffs a groan coaxing her sides, "shhh baby 's okay relax fo'me." Taking his hand away from around himself he places it atop her ass withdrawing and looking down to see her cunt glistening with his and her's wetness — then bottoming out deep inside her till his balls are snug against her bum. His stomach twists with pleasure at the warmth that blankets his cock completely making him hunch but he recoups with his arms pressed beside her temple.

The stretch that burns through her core's so pleasing and fulfilling. It hurts in a good way. She knows how patient and composed he's being for her, from the way he fattens tucked inside her walls and he slides his hand between her front and the sheets to caress her soft breasts moving with rough pace.

"Don't stop, please." She recites the mantra almost crushing his fingers with her grip around, it's alot, the constant rub of sheet against her clit and him driving inside her from behind with moans sexier than in erotic audio books. He draws loose circles over her mound making her thighs spread wider with the inability to hold them as he pinched her clit coercion her sensitive button, "oh my god . ." With the whimpers of his name she squirts around his cock and it makes her throw her hips at him.

When he pulls out to turn her on back she whines with a frown, heaving chest and coral cheeks looking totally fucked already, "wanna see ye'r face when you come . . . s' beautiful." He hisses hauling her legs around his waist lowering himself down to enter her with lil smooches to her cheeks, "cum again fo' me baby — yeah just like that squeeze on meh." He pounds her over and over grinding his pelvis against her's to stimulate her in every way.

Feeling the heat crackling in her bones and tummy she takes him by shoulders to cuddle him closer to her chest raising her hips to meet his's, a crying mess, with glossiness twinkling at the corners of her eyes as she comes with euphoria dawning upon her and Harry works her up again.

"Once more, love, i know you've one more fo' me." He gives out a purry groan biting her throat and the valley of her chest, snuggling against it with kisses — when she shakes her head through around him he lines up his nose against her nose petal–ling his lips over her's, "yes you could puppy my sweet — " His eyelids bolting shut at the built of up of his own release and the moment she cums with his cock now he shoots his thick spurt deep inside her.

"This's what it only took fo' you? Callin' ye mere sweet names." He fucks her through it and Y/N admits that he went with his promise --- fucked her like she had never before, they remain like that for some time catching their breaths and then he pulls out of her gently and pumps himself to empty his load shooting it over her pussy and abdomen, "you came so much." She says completely baffled and he steals a chaste kiss from her looking at the white ribbons sticking to her skin.

"Just for you, babyhun."

He tells her not to move and whisks away coming back with a pack of baby wipes. Her hearts swirls with so much fondness for him when he pats the wipes between his palms to get them less cold and shushes her with pecks when she hisses with sensitivity.

They take another shower, this time together and it's not sexual at all though alot of tired poofy kisses and cute yawns were included as they gave eachother shampoo massages and she'd cooe everytime untangling his long hickorey curl.

They changed the sheets (unapologetically very clumsily) and he fetches a glass of water for her making it drink her.

When they were cuddled awfully good he lifts his head up from it was nuzzled between her titties. His accent drawly and slippery from tiredness, "Y/N." He checks if she's asleep and she hums in response starting to play with his hair lazily.

"That day when me date didn't show up?" Witha half heart she hums again, she doesn't like to talk bout that day, because the hopelessness that conquered him that evening still makes her sad.

"I was glad ye' were there 'n 'm so so so thankful that he didn't show up. Else we wouldn't be here in eachother's embrace 'n me heart still'd been mournful to sleep in cold sheets waiting fo' me person." It's the most he has talked in his soberness. It wells up tears in both of their eyes.

"You're my person." She cradles his face hating it that he was kept so love starved his entire life and she gazes him dearly, sweetly, affectionately all the words that could describe love for someone spilling out of the chambers of heart.

"I want to love you so much, pet, make you me most treasured human hershey."

"I'm in, cuddle me up." He grins smauching a loud kiss to her lips and cosying back to his previous spot purring like a kitten thrown into heaps of fluffy blankets.

[cheelduh]

How to bet your way into someone’s heart. (Highschool AU)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Warnings: Fake weed. Poor Signora smh. Oh yes, lots of swearing. UNEDITED ASF IM LAZY BYE.

Synopsis: Childe is being an infatuated idiot, Lisa has eyes for vending machine chocolate, and Kaeya is desperately in need of a pencil. With all these distractions, there’s no way in hell you’ll be able focus on the task at hand.

This is crack.

I don’t have time.

You think as you race down the hallway, shoes slapping against the floor as you expertly dodge multiple students in your way.

Bullet. You're as fast as a bullet, because everyone around you is a blur and you don't stop, can't stop, not until you meet your target.

It's funny how one can accomplish many challenges and feats they were unable to, merely due to pressure. Pressure is a twisted ugly thing that can gnaw its way into the pit of your stomach and grow like a parasite. Pressure is a parasite that can either bring the best in you, or the worst, but at the cost of one's peace of mind.

"Move it Signora!" You shouted a warning at the senior blocking your way. There wasn't any time for you slow down at that point, and you'd risk bumping into the breakfast club's stall if you swerved to the side, sending juice flying everywhere.

Signora's eyes widened momentarily, getting the gist albeit her anger, and choosing to back up flatly against the locker.

Her lipstick nearly slips from her fingers as you swerve past, a thick gust of wind in your wake.

It messes with the hair she woke up two hours early for.

Signora plots her revenge. You still don't have time.

You nearly kick the door to your home room down, but you can't risk the perfect image your teachers have of you. So you pat down your t-shirt, take five tempting deep breaths, and tentatively knock the door.

The door opens and you're met with a young man, familiar amber pupils welcoming you.

You try not to huff and puff at the cost of your stamina. Thinking back, there's no way in hell you could have physically been that fast.

"Good morning Y/N," Your homeroom teacher gives you a small smile, moving aside to let you in. "Class is just about to start."

You check your watch, then turn to him with an apologetic tone, trying not to crack under the eyes of your classmates. "I'm so sorry Mr.Zhongli, I slept through my alarm."

Your idiot ass forgot to set one because you studied till four in the morning.

"You're like thirty seconds late, cut the shit." Beidou boos from the back, causing your stance to stiffen.

"I don't wanna hear it Beidou. If anything, you're two periods earlier than usual." Ningguang calls her out for you, but you have a feeling it's more so on behalf of a personal vendetta.

Ignoring the two bickering, Mr.Zhongli gives you the handout. "Take a seat. Do not fret over such minuscule things dear."

Relief washes over you. Your impeccable attendance is not on the line.

Childe tries to flag you down next to him but you send him a pointed glare and sit next to Lisa instead.

"You should give him a chance you know." Lisa doesn't even have to open her eyes to know what's going on.

"Please," You scoff, digging through your bags to collect your notes. "As if I have the time to fool around with a shady kid like him."

Your friend sighs in disapproval, and makes no move to take out her own notes as Mr.Zhongli begins the lecture on the Archon war.

"You should really pay attention." It bothers you that she doesn't, but then again it's not your place to tell her what to do or not to do.

"I don't need to." She yawns, blinking an eye open towards you. "I have you after all."

"I'm tired of saving your ass." You groan and pull a pen out of your pocket to get started on the exercises as Mr.Zhongli talks in the background.

The course outline contained all the topic, and you made sure to teach yourself as much as you could before class to stay ahead.

Immersed in the worksheet, you blinked away your sleep and tried to answer as many questions as you could at the moment. You didn't hear the slight shift next to you, and the change of breathing, or the rate of which time went by.

A familiar scent makes its way into your nostrils.

"Lisa. Why do you smell like mango juul juice." You know the scent from when Signora blew a mango flavoured fog in your face yesterday at lunch when you said you were hungry.

A chuckle erupts and you freeze in place. "That's because I'm not Lisa."

You blink. Once, twice, and then crane your head to the side to meet a pair of teasing cerulean eyes.

Fingers loosening in shock, the pen drops on the desk with a short thud.

You whisk your head towards the front of the classroom, and Mr.Zhongli is nowhere to be seen.

"There's no saving you now." Childe's smirk widens, and he scoots closer to you. "Mr.Zhongli had to get something from the staff room. The staff room is near the cafeteria."

"Which is also near the merch stall." You grumbled, bringing both hands to massage your temples as a headache is beginning it's reign.

"Tsk tsk. Smart girl. I'd like to add that he's forgotten his wallet in his office as well, which is in the south wing."

"Son of a..." You mutter underneath your breath, and opt to scoot further back, but your efforts are futile because your desk is in a corner.

Your next beacon of hope is Lisa, so you scan the room full of chattering students, only to find her pestering her crush, Jean.

Shit...there's nothing getting you out of this one.

"What did it take?" Is your only question, the despair starting to brew. How much did it take for your best friend to betray you?

"A dollar and fifty for vending machine chocolate."

You take a moment to breathe, calming your nerves and burying down the urge to screech. "What will it take?"

"For what?" Childe replies back innocently, and you can't believe how fast he can change masks. You almost give in.

"For you to leave me alone."

"Aww come on girlie," He whines, closing in the distance. "Don't be so cold."

What did your mom tell you that one time? Oh yes. That if you were ever backed against a wall, then just break the damn thing down.

Too bad it's figurative. You're just about ready to sock him in the face if you didn't know he was into that sort of thing.

"I'm serious about you," He says, and it sounds so real, so genuine, nearly makes you sputter. "See? I've even bought school supplies.

He unzips his light backback and spills the contents on the table.

A lone piece of paper flies out, a lighter, and a mechanical pencil with no lead that follows straight after. There's also a pocket knife that you choose to ignore.

You're not the least bit surprised.

"First of all, how the fuck are you passing this class. Second, do you really think I'm into nerds?"

"Well, considering that you are a nerd—"

"You're making things worse."

"My bad, my bad." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "But on a serious note. I'll do anything."

You cross your arms. "I'm not just another one of your conquests Childe. It's not like I have the time. There are better things to do."

"You need to relax." He says so simply, with complete disregard as to what you are trying to say.

"I am relaxed." You reply, picking up your pen to continue your work. If he's going to annoy you, then you might as well get shit done while he's at it.

You're not wasting any more time.

"When was the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep?" His voice is soft, too soft, and it's not at all like the Childe you know.

Your pen stops momentarily, but you will yourself to continue writing. The words look fumbled, but you don't care. The best thing to do is get your work done and ignore the idiot next to you.

"C'mon, Zhongli won't be back for another half an hour at least. Let's go." He kicks the bottom of your chair to urge you.

The pen shakes in your hand, and you narrow your eyes at the paper, digging holes into poor question eight. "I'm trying to work here. Let me work." You'll say anything to get him off your back.

"Fine fine fine..." He raises both hands in mock surrender. "I'll stop bothering you."

Your ears perk up at that, and you turn to him so fast he has to hold in his laugh. "Really?"

"Yeah," Childe nods along, bringing your hopes up. "If you win a bet, that is." And they're back to ocean level.

You roll your eyes. There's always a catch. That doesn't mean you're any less interested.

"What's the bet?" You ask curiously, all your focus now on him. Just as he longed for from the very start.

He flicks a thumb towards the door, leaning closer to whisper next to your ear. "We bet when Zhongli comes back."

"Are you kidding me?" You aren't bothered at all at the close proximity, mainly because you're too tired and only care about the freedom that will come with your win.

Childe, however, is a completely different story. His heart is beating a thousand times a second, but his face doesn't show it. Not one bit.

Kaeya leans in from the seat behind you two, interested in what's going on. "Ooooh secrets."

"Shut up Kaeya." Childe and you monotonously drone in sync, still having your little staring contest.

The captain of the skating team smiles, about to ask—

"No. We don't have an extra pencil. Even if we did we wouldn't give it to you." Childe finally breaks his gaze to scare off Kaeya.

Kaeya raises a smug brow, and leans back in his chair like the jerkwad he is. "Then don't let me keep you two love birds."

That's all it takes for him to earn Childe's unwavering respect and loyalty for as long as he lives.

After the two are done creating an elaborate handshake as a mark of their newfound friendship, you decide to just forget about the handout. It's not like you're getting anything done anyways.

"Anyways, back to the bet." Childe says, resting his cheek on his fist as he stares at you dreamily. You try not to break under his gaze.

"If I win, you have to go on a date with me."

"No way in hell—"

"Then I'll bother you for the rest of highschool."

Highschool is eternity. You don't want to live through an eternity of this.

"Fine." You answer, and for the first time he sees genuine fear in your face, it makes him waver slightly. Not enough for him to pity you.

"If I win..." You trail, thinking loud and clear as you ignore the excited chatter of your classmates. "I want you to pay attention to class."

"What?" He exclaims incredulously, blinking in disbelief. "I thought you'd get me to stop talking to you altogether."

"If you're paying attention in class, you don't bother me as much and your grades go up." You grin smartly, and oh archons it livens his entire day up, and it's only nine in the morning.

"You care about my grades?" Childe bites back a smile.

"Not at all." You lie, and quickly look away. Woah the floor tile looking trippy.

He decides it's better to get on with the bet without causing you any more distress. After all, you've given him such cute facial expressions today. He's feeling quite generous.

Pulling out his cracked-as-shit latest model phone, he unlocks it and tinkers with it a bit before turning the screen towards you.

"We'll be using this to time both of our predictions at the same time. Whoever has the closer time to when he finally swings by is the winner." The rules are simply put, no room for error.

You tilt your head in confusion. "Why am I seeing a slime review?"

"SHIT!" Childe fumbles with his phone, aggressively tapping on the screen. He lowers his head and voice as if he's been through fifty consecutive hits in the face. "It's uh, Teucer's account."

"Yeah...okay." Is all you can say.

"Ok what do you bet?" He changes the topic to unfuck the situation.

Putting a finger in your chin, you think for a minute, calculating the average of all the times Mr.Zhongli has left the classroom for a considerable amount of time.

"Fifteen minutes." You're sure of it. It's like clockwork every day.

"Hmm..." Childe crosses his arms, seemingly in deep thought. "Five minutes." He places his bet, and both timers start simultaneously.

Five minutes?! Is he serious?

You laugh inwardly. This challenge is in the bag.

The sense of victory you feel dulls when your ears pick up the echo of footsteps nearing the classroom.. Both your heads snap up to the doors.

There's something scary about Childe once his competitive side comes out. "Looks like I've won." He turns to you, eyes darkening evilly.

"What? There's no way in hell a ginger is right." Your palms are clammed up, eyebrows furrowed in panic. You calculated every single variable, how could this be?

You race to the front, Childe right on your tail as the entire class clamps up. The footsteps get louder, causing even whispers to become total silence.

Then it hits you. The shitty music about getting bitches and bars playing on the other side.

The door is swung open by Childe, and you're face to face with an idiot sophomore with a speaker in his pocket.

Childe’s grin is long gone, and you sigh in relief.

The false alarm encourages the class to return back to their idle chatter.

"Scaramouche?" Childe spits, narrowing his eyes at the unamused boy. "I thought it was Signora's shift today."

By "shift" he means being a complete dickwad and scamming fake weed to students in return for their souls. It only really works on the freshmen.

The only reason the club still runs is because Signora threatened the principal with some sus pictures she snapped of him and his assistant.

"Apparently she had an emergency." Scaramouche explains, lowering the volume on his outdated beats pill. "Something about a hair appointment because she got ran into by a, and I quote "lecherous imbecile.""

You steer clear of the conversation, finding the whiteboard far more fascinating and worth your while.

A loud cough is heard from behind the kid, and you're met with a crestfallen look on your beloved teacher's face.

You go through a whiplash of emotions, becoming completely numb towards your loss.

"They were out of slow cooked bamboo shoot soup." He sighs, handing a stack of papers to Childe, who is wearing the fattest smirk on his face at his victory. "Please hand these out to your classmates Childe, and we will begin shortly."

You check down at the timer despite knowing who’s won. Five minutes and twenty five seconds. Somehow, you don't feel as dejected as you thought you'd feel.

Maybe the date will be fun. Maybe Childe isn't so bad. Maybe...you do have time to indulge in these sort of things. If he’s so hell bent on getting your attention, perhaps it’s possible that you can make some room in your heart for him.

However, all those thoughts fly out the window when Childe hands you the new worksheet.

“I hope you're ready for our date tomorrow. We'll be sparring till sundown, and after you’ll be feeding me with chopsticks." He winks, and it makes your heart flip even though all you want right now is to go to the bathroom and barf your guts out.

Feelings are complicated.

You smile back at him nauseously, tight lipped and all, then you pull out your phone, go on maps, and search for the closest cliffs to jump off of.

After he's done, Childe slouches back in his original seat with a different kind of enthusiasm, and opens up his messages. He texts Zhongli a "thank you <3".

[snaketherapy]

Siren/merfolk au thingy-

Part 1/?

Roman sighed as Logan walked over to another door, this one looking much like the others except some weird symbol carved into the metal. “I swear, this is just gonna be another room full of documents talking about fish we already know about. Or maybe another shredded picture torn up by rats!” Roman scoffed. He was so done with exploring this abandoned aquarium. They were the only ones to enter it in years apparently, due to rumours of some man-eating creatures that lurk there. That’s why Roman came along. He wanted adventure but all they’ve found so far is useless and information about fish they’ve already done research on.

“Hey Lo, did the former owners take the fish from here?” He called over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the floor of the tank. “According to what I read about this place and it’s owners, no. Why do you ask?” Logan answered as he and Patton walked over to the tallest of the group. “Well, there are no corpses or anything. Not even bones, cartilage, fins, nothing.” He hummed, looking from the water back to his colleagues. Logan stayed silent as he thought about Roman’s words, his own eyes searching the water himself. Suddenly the sound of footsteps entered the room. The three turned to see Roman’s brother, Remus, standing near the door. “Sup nerds. Sorry to distract you from your research or whatever your doing here but Emile is freaking the fuck out for some reason. He’s still in the truck but something obviously spooked him.”

The four quickly walked out of the room and out of the building altogether, unaware of the two pairs of eyes that were watching them.

✨🌙✨

Patton hopped into the back of the trailer attached to their truck, the doors already opened. He could already hear the distressed splashing coming from the tank near the front wall. He walked over, followed by the others, and sat on the side of the custom made tank. They had learned that the mer had abandonment issues and the twins, with the help of their older brother, made a tank for Emile in the trailer so they could take them with the group when they were exploring or going to the beach. Usually Remy also tagged along but the merman was currently resting due to him hitting his head against one of the tanks rather hard when he was playing with the other mers and marine mammals.

As soon as Patton sat down, Emile quickly jumped out of the water and sat beside Patton on the side of the tank, his pink tail folded under him. Their eyes were worried and their nose was scrunched up as if they smelt something vile, their large rounded tail fins flicking anxiously. “Hey emmy, what’s wrong?” Roman asked, figuring the mer might’ve just been uneasy because Remy hadn’t tagged along. Emile replied with a few distressed clicks, their head turning to the entrance of the trailer for a second before turning back to the humans. Patton hummed a small tune to hopefully calm Emile’s nerves enough so that they could respond in human tongue.

Emile had been rescued a few years ago when he got caught in a hunters trap, which was illegal at the beach they had placed it. They still had small scars littering their back and chest, and they had to get a replacement for one of his fins due to it bending due to the chains of the trap. The group had to remove it because Emile wouldn’t be able to swim with it bent like that. Roman had worked with Logan to make a replacement fin for them though. At first, they planned to help the mer just get used to its new fin and clear the beach of traps before releasing them but Emile had other plans. They had gotten attached to the other mers and creatures at the facility. The humans even tried to put Emile back, bringing Remy along so that Emile stayed in the tank with them. Roman had managed to pick up the mer and place them back into the ocean but Remy had jumped out of the portable tank they brought them here in and followed Emile. They tried everything to get Remy to get back into the tank but nothing worked. Well, until they agreed to take Emile with them.

So while Emile was now a permanent resident at the facility, they still didn’t speak fluent human so Remy often helped them, as the coffee-stealing mer was actually human-raised and not ocean born like Emile was.

“P-Predator.” Emile had managed to spit out after a while. Another thing about Emile the others had noted was that they often were sent into a panic attack when they sensed something that could be dangerous, even if it wasn’t. Logan blinked, a few thoughts running through his mind. They hadn’t found any signs of life or anything living in the abandoned building besides rats and a nest of birds. And they knew that Emile was fine with birds and small mammals, as they had seen Emile bring back animals like a cat, except they kept them alive.

“Did you see anything nearby Remus?” Logan asked, figuring that Emile may have heard a large dog or maybe seen one on the beach of where the abandoned aquarium was placed as another cat-like trait Emile had was having an irrational fear of canines. “Nope. I was planning on letting Emile out to swim in the water but they refused quickly and basically tried to hide in the corner of the tank. All that I’ve seen are some seagulls.” Remus replied, leaning against the wall of the trailer.

Suddenly alarmed squawks sounded from the beach, making all of the humans eyes widen and look over to the beach. They couldn’t see much behind the cloud of sand, dust and feathers where the sound was coming from. Emile immediately dove back into the tank with a scared whine. “What the hell…” Remus muttered before he ran out, Roman following. Logan ran after the two after making sure Patton was okay with trying to calm the panicking mer down.

When the cloud of dust cleared the three humans' eyes widened. Blood and feathers covered the sand around the creature, as well as three dead seagulls. Each one of the seagulls' corpses had a large bite mark on the side of them, their wings being torn halfway off and skin being shown behind the torn off feathers. The creature didn’t seem to notice the humans at first as it was still spitting out feathers with its nose scrunched up, the blood from the birds must’ve overpowered the scent of the humans. Suddenly the creature's head turned to the humans, it’s teeth bared in a snarl before it must’ve noticed something about the humans. The humans than got a good look at the creature.

It looked somewhat like a mer, a long tail starting at its waist and must’ve been at least 6’ feet in length, not taking in count of its fins. Starting from around the middle of its tail and ending in between its shoulder blades just below its neck was a large black fin covered in purple stripes that ended in the middle of the fin. It’s tail fins look similar except with more of a leather-looking texture and the ends looked as sharp as knives. Smaller fins went along the side of the tail and were also placed on its shoulders, elbows and bigger ones on the side of its torso and two longer ones replacing its ears. It’s eyes were a bright purple and it’s pupils dilated like a reptiles. It’s limbs started fading into a black near the elbow, small black freckles going up its arms and covering its back. The sides of its face, torso and neck also faded from the very pale white to pure black, almost looking like spray paint. It’s hair was long and tied back with what looked like thin rope, the long dull purple pony-tail resting on its back.

Roman almost shrieked as the creature bared its sharp teeth again, a low growl coming from its throat. The blood coating around its mouth and teeth didn’t help at all either. “Woah...” Remus muttered as he took a step forward but was quickly yanked back by Logan grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling. “That thing could be a siren. Don’t approach it!” Roman hissed as he backhanded his brother on the head. “It’s not a siren. I’ve done research on them. If it was, it would’ve lured the seagulls instead of just straight on attacking them with tooth and claw. Sirens drown their prey first, and they mostly go for humans or larger animals.” Remus informed, hitting his brother on the head back.

Remus took a step forward again, leaning down slightly like the group did when they first approached a new mer. The mer-like creatures ear fins folded back as it glared at Remus, another growl rising from its throat. Remus stopped walking and instead slowly sat down on the sand, giving the creature space and not making any sudden movements. The creature blinked a few times before its expression changed. Instead of glaring, it was looking Remus up and down sceptically. The mer slithered forward little by little until it was around an arm-length away from Remus. Remus slowly reached his arm out towards the mer, who backed its head up in response for a second. It relaxed soon again but a loud screech filled the air, making the three humans instinctively cover their ears with their hands.

The creature turned its head and looked to the aquarium and then suddenly to the truck, its ears perking up. It growled again, but this was more high-pitched and seemed to almost mimic a happy squeal that they commonly heard from the mers. That’s when it hit Logan. This is what Emile was freaking out about. This was the predator they were talking about. Logan quickly yanked Remus up with surprising strength, grabbing him by the arm and then Roman and hurrying back to the truck. He let them go near the side of the truck, not answering their questions as he grabbed his gun from inside the truck. It wasn’t an actual gun, just one that shot narcotic bullets that would put mers and other sea creatures to sleep, and hopefully this creature to. “Patton! Come here and make sure the twins don’t move.” He called out and started walking away, much to the two siblings protests.

Patton did as told and came to stand beside the twins, equally as confused. Logan crouched down near the side of the trailer, focusing on the creature as it moved towards the trailer. It hadn’t noticed Logan crouched there, as it was clearly focusing on something in the truck. That something being prey.

As soon as the creature set a hand on the edge of the truck, Logan aimed and quickly shot. The bullet hit the creature directly on the fin and it let out a surprised hiss. Logan quickly moved out of sight and hid against the side of the trailer. He heard a bit of thrashing and then a small thunk. He let out a sigh of relief and turned his head to see the creature laying on the ground unconscious. “Logan! What the hell was that for?” Remus exclaimed, trotting over to Logan with the other two following. “It was hunting Emile. I think that sound we heard might have been another one of them alerting it of nearby prey.” Logan explained, pushing up his glasses with his free hand. “Now call Thomas. We need another truck just in case it wakes up.”

“You don’t mean… Logan, we can’t take this thing back with us!”

“We can and we should. If you two didn’t notice, one of its fins is twisted.”

✨🌙✨

Remus gently placed the creature into the large tank, closing the door behind him as he walked out and back to where the others were looking through the glass. The creature floated in the water for a few seconds before its eyes fluttered open and then widened. It immediately spun around, its tail thrashing wildly. It continued to look around frantically, seemingly panicking at its new surroundings. “I told you this was a bad idea specs. The thing is clearly panicking-“ Remus was cut off by a tap on some glass and the sound of splashing water. The four turned to the small tank in the corner of the room that was connected to the tunnels that went in between all the tanks so the mers could move around more. Remy was leaning against the glass, an eyebrow raised at the group of humans as a still anxious-looking Emile popped out of the water beside him. “Emmy told me about how you found a sharp-fin.” He hummed, his head turning towards the tank. “Sharp-fin?” Roman muttered but didn’t get a response as Remy suddenly jumped out of the tank and slithered over to the glass of the larger tank. He knocked on the glass in a certain rhythm the humans didn’t recognize and the creature suddenly stopped thrashing its tail and looking around, its eyes now directed on Remy. It seemed to snarl for a moment before it stopped and suddenly appeared at the glass, moving at insane-speeds despite its bent tail fin.

Remy cooed happily and knocked against the glass again in the same pattern. The humans and Emile looked at Remy dumbfounded as the creature tapped back the same pattern. “Remus, do you mind letting me into the tank?” Remy questioned, looking to Remus with big eyes through his sunglasses. “I- but that thing literally tried to hunt Emile and tore apart a bunch of seagulls! How do we know if-“ “Just trust me on this one.”

Through some convincing, Remy was eventually allowed to jump into the large tank. As soon as he was in the water, he was tackled by the creature who was a bit bigger than him. Roman was just about to run up to the entrance of the tank when he saw Remy nip at the creature playfully. The creature immediately swam off a bit away before doing a small twirl. Remy did the same before swimming forwards and tackling the creature like it did to him, the two rolling through the water. The creature nipped back but Remy just head butted it in its stomach before swimming off again and doing a twirl. The group watched the two continue to play the strange game for a while before Remy started actually talking to the creature. A few minutes of talking later, the creature hesitantly nodded and Remy smiled brightly. The creature swam up to the top while Remy tapped the glass while looking at the humans before following after.

The group hesitantly walked up to the top of the tank, Remus leading. When they got up they saw Remy resting on the platform where the door to the tank was, the creature sitting not too far away. It looked like it wanted to jump back into the water the moment it laid eyes on the humans but Remy’s tail gently curled around the others to make sure it didn’t leave. “Okay, so, this is V. He’s a sharp-fin, or a mer that stays in the deeper water or caves and hunts smaller mers, seals, and a few other things. I met him when we were just small, a bit before I was taken here.” Remy explained with a smile. Before the humans could respond or ask questions, a soft but low and husky voice cut them off.

“Hi… Sorry about trying to eat your friend.”

💫🌘✨🌙✨🌒💫

[lovingmyselfcore]

Skate Into My Heart

Chapter Three; Uh oh

BESTIES

I'M ALIVE AND I DID THE WRITING THING

@ciaraloves (or @perseusjackson-jasongrace ig) LOOK AT ME DOING THE THING

As soon as Nico left the locker room, Piper pounced on him. Literally.

He was forced to take a step back and caught her by the shoulders, “What’s up?”

She was practically vibrating with excitement, “Annabeth’s back!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Come on!” She grabbed his hand and yanked him through the hallways and into the main rink where a crowd of people had formed next to the bleachers.

It was the rest of the team and in the center was Annabeth, a duffle bag slung over one shoulder, looking exhausted as all hell but she was grinning as the team peppered her with questions and play-by-plays of the practices she’d missed.

Piper shouldered them into the center so Nico was directly in front of Annabeth, Piper on one side and Calypso on the other.

“Hey, Nico,” Annabeth said, still grinning. She stepped forward for a hug and he let her, burying his face into her neck and breathing, already feeling the responsibility leaking from his tight shoulders. Annabeth was like a big sister to him, not that he’d ever admit that, but still.

“You want to get out?” Nico whispered into her neck.

“Yes,” She whispered back emphatically. Nico could barely stop himself from laughing but as they pulled apart he saw the genuine relief in her eyes and felt himself worrying. He needed to talk to her, about the team and skating, about Will and of course, if she needed to talk about why she’d been gone for so long, he’d do that too.

Apparently, Calypso recognized that too and, bless her heart, muttered something to Leo, and together they captured the team’s attention, allowing Nico to tug Annabeth away from the crowd and out of the rink. She sighed as soon as they were ejected onto the city streets. Nico stuck an arm out and she smiled and linked their arms.

“Where are you headed?” Nico asked as they walked the short distance to the car garage.

“Oh, probably just my apartment.”

Nico nodded, “I wasn’t sure if you’d be staying with your dad or not.”

She shook her head, “He doesn’t even know I landed yet. I’ll head over in the morning.”

Her voice was stiff and Nico took that as his cue to change the subject. “So I have something to confide in you.”

She perked up almost immediately and he swallowed hard. But she just looked at him with those gray eyes and he reminded himself that this was Annabeth. That she wasn’t going to get angry with him.

At least, he hoped not.

“I’m talking to one of the hockey players,” He said casually.

Her grip on his arm stiffened and he braced himself but she was still just looking at him.

Finally, she grinned, “So when you say ‘talking to’...”

He groaned and felt himself flush, “Oh, shut up! Just friends.”

She hummed and released his arm to dig for her keys in her jacket pocket. “Is he nice?”

“No, he’s a dick,” Nico said sarcastically.

Annabeth rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “I don’t know why I even bother.”

“He’s blonde,” Nico offered.

“Oooh,” Annabeth drawled.

He rolled his eyes and she burst out laughing, her voice echoing off the stone walls of the parking garage.

“Is he gay?” Annabeth asked.

Nico nearly flinched and passed it off with another eye roll, “I don’t know, Annie, that’s not something that’s come up in casual conversation.”

She glared at him and Nico, being the mature adult he is, stuck his tongue out at her. She did it back then shook her head. “Too much time with Percy,” She muttered and Nico snorted. She grinned at him.

“So he’s okay?”

That sobered her immediately. “Yeah. Well, as okay as he can be. I’m only here for like two weeks because he insisted I come back, but I’m leaving as soon as possible,” She glanced sideways at him, “Not to leave you alone again, though.”

He shrugged off the flash of selfish hurt he’d felt, “I’m good, Beth.” But he wasn’t good. He’d just told her about Will, and not even the start of the way his stomach would twist when he saw a new text from the hockey player and not the same twist when he panicked. And that also meant his chances of performing solo again were climbing. He didn’t know how to feel about that part.

“Stop that!” She exclaimed, halting once they’d reached her car.

“Get some sleep, Annabeth,” He said genuinely then smirked a little, “It looks like you need it.”

She threw a balled-up receipt she’d found in her bag at him, “Dick!”

~~~~

“Hey, Nico.”

Nico nearly leaped out of his skin, spinning to see Persephone in the living room.

She snorted, “Didn’t mean to scare you, sorry. Did practice go well?”

His phone buzzed in his pocket, “Yeah. Annabeth’s back.”

Persephone hummed, reaching up to untwist her hair, sending it cascading down her shoulders, “That’s good. I know you’ve missed her,” She said with a knowing look in her eyes that made him shift uncomfortably.

“Yeah, definitely, um, I’m tired we learned some new moves for Regionals today, so,”

“Yeah of course.” She was still smiling.

“‘Night Persephone,”

~~~

Nico flopped face-down onto his bed with a groan. He knew Persephone though he had a crush on Annabeth; he didn’t blame her, he’d never really made it a point that he didn’t. He wished he could come out to her and his dad, he didn’t really have a reason why he hadn’t besides the weight of anxiety on his lungs.

His phone buzzed again, and he wriggled upright to yank it out of his pocket.

Will: Distract me

Will: My mom is driving me insane

Nico grinned to himself, both of them were dealing with mommy issues at the moment.

Nico: idk how you expect me to distract you

Will: Just tell me about snakes or smth

Nico: you think i just have fun facts about snakes on hand?

Will: Yeah?

Nico: good

Nico: cause i do

Will: :)

Nico: snakes can slither 12.5 mph

Will: Good lord

Nico: snakes have internal ears but not external ones

Will: ??

Nico: they can’t create their own body heat which is why theyre in the sun all the time

Will: Hmmmm

Nico: they smell w/their tongues

Will: I thought they had nostrils??

Nico: they do

Will: what

Nico: it’s their Jacobson’s organ my dude it works in mysterious ways

Nico: not really but yk

Nico: sCieNcE

Will: ok….

Nico: if you get bored of snakes i’ve also got a bunch of random cheetah facts

Nico: i love cheetahs

Nico: very cool

Nico: fast cats

Will: Lmao go ahead

Nico: but first

Nico: why’s your mom driving you insane

Nico: if you want to tell me ofc

Nico: not trying to be weird

Will: Nah you’re fine

Will: She wants me to focus entirely on med school and not hockey

Will: She’s trying to get me out of it, actually

Will: Do something ‘respectable’

Will: Not turn out like my dad

Will: Even though dad has literally NOTHING to do with hockey

Will: And in my opinion he’s not bad. Not great. Not awful yk

Will: But hockey’s what’s putting me through med school so

Will: Gods, I really just burdened you with that I’m so sorry

Nico: med school huh

Nico: now i can say i know a doctor

Will: In training

Nico: close enough

Nico: you’re a great hockey player and you're going to be a great doctor

Nico: and you can always talk to me, will

Nico: you’re not burdening me with shit

Will: thanks <3

Nico didn’t understand why he blushed. It was a goddamn emoji. Calm down, Di Angelo.

Will: So we’ve been talking for a few weeks now. Can I call you my friend yet?

Nico snorted, feeling like he was fifteen again, sprawled on his bed, in the dark (because for some reason he didn’t turn his lights on) late at night, texting his- well, anyway.

Nico: yea dumbass

Nico: we’re friends

Will: Nice

Will: Now give me cheetah facts you adorable nerd

~~~

WILL

“Will? You good?”

Will blinked, Jason coming in to focus in front of him. “Uh, yeah.”

“That was believable,” Clarisse said sarcastically from behind Jason.

Will attempted to shake the fog from his head, “Yes,” He repeated.

Jason just blinked at him and Will was formulating an excuse for why he was so tired besides the fact that he’d spent all night talking to a cute figure skater with a ridiculous amount of animal facts stored in his small body when Coach Hedge’s voice boomed from his seat on the bleachers, “Solace! You alive?”

“Yes, coach!” Will shot back.

“Then why are you just standing there? Get back to the game! You too, La Rue and Grace!”

“Yes, sir!” They all barked back.

Clarisse gave him a once over before skating back to her goal and Jason went over to Will’s spot with him, “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

Jason opened his mouth, probably to question why the mom friend of their group was tired enough he nearly tripped over his stick but Will just said, “It’s fine, Jase. It’s not a big deal.”

“Grace!” Coach Hedge screeched.

Jason gave up on trying to interrogate Will and skated back over to his spot.

~~~~

“Mama, please,” Will tried, but his mother cut him off.

“Willaim. Hush. How’s that girl you said you were dating?”

What?

He was silent for a beat too long.

“Oh, baby,” His mother’s thick southern accent drenched her words. “You broke up? I’m so sorry.”

Oh gods, Lou Ellen Blackstone.

Will and Lou Ellen had dated for two months a long time ago, and when they were still dating he’d told his mother about her to get her to back off of his personal life a little. Their break up hadn’t had a huge fallout, Lou Ellen had told him through tears in his living room that she was aromantic. They were still friends, had been even before they dated, actually, and talked to each other pretty regularly.

But the problem was, that had been three months ago, and he hadn’t told his mother about their breakup. He knew she’d ask why, and he didn’t want to out Lou Ellen or make her a devil in his mother’s eyes. So he’d procrastinated coming up with a reason until he’d forgotten about it entirely.

And now it had come back to bite him in the ass.

“Yeah we broke up a little while ago,” He forced himself to sound choked up, which wasn’t hard, giving the way his panicked brain was now sprinting in circles on his lungs. “I just didn’t disappoint you.” Probably the most honest thing he’d said in weeks, but that’ll be unpacked later.

“Honey,” She sighed sadly and Will didn’t know whether or not that was on his behalf or hers.

“Well, it’s okay, because I’m dating someone new.”

“Oh?” He could hear her spine straighten. “Is it someone I know?”

No, mom, it’s not one of the country girls I grew up with.

“No,” He winced at how southern he sounded. He’d been talking to his mother for five minutes. “You don’t know him.”

HIM. Good Gods, Will. Yeah, you came out as bi to your mom, but still, you haven’t actually mentioned a guy to her yet.

She was silent for so long his heart joined his brain in the track meet happening on top of his lungs. “What’s his name?”

He was so she’d spoken that he blurted, “Nico.”

What. The. Fuck. Willaim.

Apparently, his heart had won that damn track race.

“Well, what I was leading up to before you told me about what happened,”

Will hummed non-committally, trying not to sound like he was taking relieved breaths as she spoke.

“The family’s come for a reunion and you should bring that boy!” Will choked on his spit.

“Mom, I don’t know about-”

“No, William. There isn’t a set date yet so we can work around your schedule,” Fuck. “I insist, Will. I need to meet this boy you clearly like very much, even though all you’ve said is his name, a mother knows.”

Umm, what.

“Sure,” Will said, sounding a little strangled. “But we have a game this weekend.”

“Alright, William.” She sounded the way she always did when he brought up hockey. “But as I said, we can work around your schedule and his. Talk to him about it, and let me know.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Will repeated. “I’ll do that.”

She hung up and he was left staring at the wilting daisies at his kitchen table.

What had he just done?

[oh-my-may]

Kageyama, Hinata, Bokuto and Oikawa with a really smart s/o

requested: hey! can i request some headcanons for kags, hinata, bokuto and oikawa with a crush on a reader who excels in school??

I had to think of a good High School friend of mine while writing this?? Oh well. It’s alittle short (especially Hinatas, I’m so sorry bby :c) but I didn’t want to write same thing for all of them so~

Fem!reader

Kageyama Tobio:

Thinks how can you even be a real person lol

Like ‘who likes learning’ ‘how does she know all of this?’ poor boy

He can’t help but gape at you everytime you raise your hand in class and then answer correct all the time

Or when the teacher passes out tests and says that you had the best results of the whole class 

(silently thinks you could probably win any quiz against Tsukishima and his positive feelings for you just grow 10x lol)

He slowly finds himself being attracted to you, because despite your good grades, you’re not an asshole like Tsukishima lol. You’re actually really nice and he likes that a lot. You never say no when someone asks you for help and you can explain things so easily

He finds himself just staring at you in class because he thinks you’re so pretty

Once he asks you for help with a math problem and while you explain it to him he barely listens to your words, he can just stare at your pretty face and your little gestures and he’s so close to you he can even smell your perfume someone help him-

Sometimes you turn around in class and smile and wave at him and he might just pass out

Will definitely blurt out the words “please go on a date with me” very unintentionally and very loud while you explain something to him

You both just kinda freeze as he looks at you in shock with widened eyes and face as red as lightning McQueen and you’re so surprised you don’t know what to say for a whole moment or two until you relax and smile. “Yeah, sure.” because who can ever say no to Tobio Kageyama

Hinata Shoyo:

Amazed babyboy

“How can she be a real person?” he thinks to himself as you get yet another A with all points in a test

Please teach him everything this boy needs help lol

Will very bluntly ask you for help and then gets really invested into doing better in class, showing off his best side 

Really everyone is impressed at how well he is doing until Kageyama exposes him and is like “it’s just because Y/n is in our class and he’s up her ass with his obvious crush on her” (Hinata totally smashes a ball in his face for that)

Will also stand up for you when someone calls you nerd and he notices! Will definitely defend you even though you tell him that it’s not necessary - he’ll stand up for you like a knight in shining armor does lol

He’s not as shy as Kageyama so he’d definitely just straight up ask you if you could hang after school to learn and you also 100% say yes because he’s just sooo precious!

Bokuto Koutarou:

A total crack head

Definitely the class clown you can’t tell me otherwise

If he can’t impress you with his knowledge he’ll efinitely do it with his jokes and pranks

Doesn’t even try to compete or keep up with you, he knows he could never be like you

Instead he always congratulates you on your grades and good work. “Nice one, Y/N!” “You really aced that test, huh? Just like I ace at volleyball ;) ;)”

ngl you’re kinda smitten by his behaviour he’s just so cute!

Whenever the teacher announces that you had the best result in a test he’ll stand up and just straight up clap and cheer for you oh no-

Definitely has a small cruhs on you since the beginning (he’s turned on by smart people) but he falls even harder for you when you help him out of his emo-mode once after he failed a test

You offer to help him study for the next test and tell that everyone has a bad day occasionally, even you. 

He doesn’t believe but his ears perked up at your offer and he’s so happy that he’ll spend some alone time with you!! A study date!! (You never said it was a date but honestly- you don’t complain)

You definitely won’t study a lot on that day (no, not because of what you think!) He distracts you the whole time because he’s singing or dancing around, showing you funny pictures on his phone or showing you how he spikes the ball lol

Oikawa Tooru:

Bit of a smart boy himself

Y’all can pry nerd!Oikawa from my cold dead hands okay

He definitely doesn’t do bad in school either, in fact I think he’s top of his class in some subjects

Until you appeared, that is. But instead of being mad at you he very quickly found himself developing a big fat crush on you because you’re so smart! You’re not like his fangirls or past girlfriends at all!

He totally wants to impress you and always sits next to you in class so you can work together when you’re doing team work!

Always wants to work on projects with you! He’s just so so impressed by you and he could listen to you talk about math formulas or photosynthesis or World War II without an end oh well he’s lost

Everyone hates you because you’re the best in most classes and no one can keep up with you

Actually it turns into a friendly rivalry between you two and yu silently always fight for the best presentation topics, who wrote more words in an essay, who handed it in earlier, who spent more hours studying or working on the project... It’s not even about the grades lol

Y’all very obviously crush on each other but the thing you have going on is too nice neither of you wants to ruin it

He still probably asks you out once the school year is over or something because you’re the most mpressive girl he’s ever met and you keep him determined and he just wants to learn so much more about you

[fookinfandoms]

When in Rome | Samuel Drake

Part One! Next chapters will most likely have smut. 

Posted on Ao3! Find me on there!

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence.

Taglist: @courtenbae <3

____________________________________

You weren’t sure why Nate had asked for you to fly to Italy of all places. 

But you weren’t exactly complaining. Italy had always been on your bucket list, but you wouldn’t be lying if you thought you’d be here under different terms. The hotels were booked under your name, and Sully had organised the limo. 

It had been some time since you had done any jobs for your friend, and the idea of dressing up always excited you. You were an I.T specialist, and Nate specifically favoured your hacking skills. 

Having hacked the auction system, you had successfully gotten not only your name, but Sully’s on the guest list. Nate insisted he had his own way in, and you didn’t question him.

You had been friends with the Drake since you were both teenagers, having met him when he was running around with his older brother Sam. Speaking of the older Drake, reading over text that Sam was alive and well wasn’t exactly something you were expecting, but it made you happy nonetheless. You hadn’t seen him since before his departure to Panama, and that was well over fifteen years ago. 

Fifteen years. 

You were 34 now, and at 19 years old you were always the butt of every joke with Samuel. He would tease you constantly about preferring the technical side of life, or how your glasses were to big for your head, or how you dressed like a grandma. 

That part of you was gone. Doing the hard labour as well as the hacking was apart of your resume, Nate even using you as a distraction a handle of times during his work. You just prayed that the night didn’t end bad, not exactly liking the idea of having to climb or shoot your way out in such a tight outfit. 

Dressed in a floor length red dress, your back exposed and the neckline a little too deep for your liking, you make your way across the floor with Sully at your side. He was to open a window and let the brothers in and so you excused yourself, making your way to the bar. Your heels clicked against the ground, and you ignored the eyes on you as you stand by a stool. 

Ordering yourself a scotch on the rocks, the bartender makes some comment about ordering such a strong drink, and you laugh him off. It was a ‘look the part - play the part situation’ and he winks at you as you say thank you in Italian. Taking the drink and waiting near the bar, the doors in the back open, and you spot Nathan before you spot Sully and Sam.

Sam. 

He looked good. Unfortunately for you, there was that small part of you that had crushed on the older man. He wasn’t older than you by a lot, but when you were 19, the idea of liking your friends older brother never felt right. Age had been kind to him, and It didn’t help that the added years of muscle and tattoos made your eyes wide. 

Stop it. 

You’re not some horny teenager.

Ordering another drink for Sully, you continuing eyeing your friends before making your way over. Nate spotted you first, offering you a friendly smile as Sully copies him. Sam’s back was facing you, and as you’re about to stand between him and his brother, he turns around. His eyes roam every inch of your body, focusing a little more on the areas that would have earned him a slap had you been somebody else. 

“Well hello gorgeous,” His accent was thicker than you remember, and you thought he was kidding until you saw Nate cringe from beside him. “Can I help you?”

Even Sully frowns at the Drake, and you raise your eyebrow at the man, realising he was in fact, not kidding. “Sam? It’s me… (Y/N)?”

His eyes widen, giving you a once over once more. He shakes his head at you, looking back at your companions as if waiting for one of them to say you were lying. “No fuckin’ way.”

“Yeah, guess getting old is fun huh?” You hand Sully his drink while Sam still looks at you in shock. 

“I asked (Y/N) to give us a hand in all of this, she’s been quite the help over the years.” Nate speaks up, and you smile at him.

“Hang on a minute here, I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that this,” He waves his hand in your direction. “Is (Y/N), our little nerd (Y/N) with the big ass glasses.” He then shapes the glasses with his hands, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. 

Still the same Sam. 

“Yeah, it’s called contacts, they work wonders.” You chime in, and Sam just sighs, his hand sliding over his chin as he looks at you.

“Well you look stunning (Y/N), the years have definitely been good to you.” He, once again, glances at your body, eyebrow raising as you huff at him.

“You’re saying I was an ugly kid?” 

“Not ugly at all, more that y-“ Nate interrupts his older brother, stopping him from embarrassing himself any further. You hate to admit it, but you definitely missed Sam and his stupid way of talking. He had always been the cocky bastard, and you were pleased that prison hadn’t killed that part of him.

“We gotta figure out how we’re getting in that door.” Sully points towards the door behind them, and you eye it, noticing its electronic. 

“Give me a bit and I could get it open.” You offer, and Nate nods.

“That could work, you have your phone on you?” Nodding at him, you pat your small purse, but you quickly pretend to converse with Sam as the exact door you were talking about opens, a waiter leaving. He eyes your little group before making his way to the crowd. 

He places his keycard in his back pocket, and you tilt your head towards it. “Or we could just take the card, that’ll save time.”

“(Y/N) thieving? You have changed.” Sam pipes up, and you wink at him.

“This isn’t my first rodeo.” It was true, you had a number of successful jobs up your sleeve.

“Do tell.” His voice get’s a little lower, and Nate clears his throat.

“We gotta get our hands on that keycard.” He points to the waiter, ignoring whatever conversation he just had to hear.

“Then what?” You ask, eyeing the waiter in the crowd.

“Sam’s going to play dress ups and Nate’s going to cut the power.” Sully answers, and you give him a slow nod. 

Sounded like an easy plan. Both brothers go to move to pickpocket the waiter, Sam letting Nathan take the first attempt. Everybody watches as he sneaks up behind the man, but evidently fails as he walks off. 

“Oh, real smooth.” Sam quips, and Nathan replies something about ‘not even trying yet.’ 

He tries again, and fails once more. The drake at your side chuckles at his brothers failure, looking down at you as he winks. “Wanna see something impressive? Keep watching sweetheart.” 

Sam takes over, stalking the waiter as Nathan rolls his eyes. You cross your arms over, watching as the older brother attempts to pick pocket. Just like his brother, he fails and you chuckle, giving him a thumbs up as he frowns. He tries again, and the waiter turns around, looking at Sam in confusion. He says something to him, and the waiter points to the staircase. 

The Drake excuses himself, making his way back to your group. “That was impressive Sam, I haven’t seen you eat absolute shit in fifteen years.”

He scoffs as the other men chuckle, and you sigh, handing your purse to the older man. Sully takes it, eyeing you as you fix your hair and perk your breasts up in your dress. Both Nate and Sully look away as they awkwardly cough, but Sam watches intently as you roll your eyes at him yet again. 

“You’re gonna do a lift sweetheart?” He asks, and you ignore him, making your way over to the where the waiter was last standing. 

He had walked further into the crowd, and you grabbed a glass of champagne from another passing waiter as you spot him. 

“Does she know what she’s doing?” Sam asks his brother, and Nathan nods before shushing him, focusing on the lift.

You make a beeline for the man, and before you know it you’ve stumbled into him, right hand grabbing the keycard from his back pocket as your left hand raises the glass higher. He turns around instantly, and you’ve already shoved the keycard up your sleeve when your right hand grabs onto his shoulder in a fake attempt to steady yourself. 

"Mi dispiace!” You purposely make the pronunciation sound loose, and immediately his attention is on you. Eyes wandering over you as you give him your best smile. Drama was never your specialty, but men were stupid when it came to a pretty face. 

Your boys watch as the waiter attempts to make sure you’re okay, staring up at you in your high heels. You’re touching his shoulder still, apologising profusely for running into him, blaming it on somebody who pushed you.

“Oh she’s good,” Sam remarks, and Sully nods at him, all still watching you. “Now why can’t you do that Nathan?” 

“Because I don’t have boo-You know what? Shut up.” Nathan scoffs at his older brother, and before he knows it, you’re already on your way back the them. 

Pulling out the keycard from your sleeve, you hand it to Sully, an amused expression on your face. “Never send a Drake to do a woman’s job.”

“Your words hurt me.” Sam holds his hand over his heart, and you scoff at him, nudging him with your elbow.

“Nice work,” Nathan nods at you. “We ready?” 

You all nod at him and as Sully goes to open the door, you stop him, pulling out a bunch of earpieces from your purse. “We’ll still need these.” 

Nate mutters a ‘great’ as they all take one, placing in their ear. You do the same, hiding the piece with your hair. The brothers leave through the door, leaving you with Sully. 

“Testing that you boys can hear me.” You speak casually, your older companion nodding at you as you hear Nate through your earpiece. 

“Loud and clear (Y/N).” His voice comes out clear, and you smile to yourself. 

Sam however doesn’t say anything, and apart of you was worried you had gotten a faulty piece. “Samuel?” 

“Yes princess?” He chuckle comes through, and you sigh. Pet names? Gone were the days he called you four eyes.

“Asshole, answer me when I talk.” You order, not liking the idea of being left in the dark.

“Demanding, I like it,” He replies, and you’re about to say something when you hear a thump, and Sam grunts. “O-Ow, what was that for?” 

Both you and Sully roll your eyes, knowing Nathan must’ve smacked upside the head. 

“Thank you Nate.” You reach for another champagne, Sully sticking close to you.

“Again, your words hurt me.” Sam mumbles, and you go to speak again when an unfamiliar woman comes up behind Sully.

“Hands in the air,” You tense as Sully turns around. “Hi Victor.”

“Hello Nadine, pleasure to see you again.” He greets her, and you relax a little realising he knows her.

She says some more, as does he and you step closer to your friend. The woman, Nadine, eyes you warily, and Sully clears his throat. 

“Nadine, this is my goddaughter, (Y/N),” He then points back at the woman. “This is an old associate of mine, Nadine.” 

“Goddaughter?” She asks, and you nod at her, smiling up at Sully.

“That would be me, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Her accent was thick, and she turns her attention back to the older gentleman, talking more about the event and being dressed up. She offers to buy him a drink and he accepts, and she surprises you as she offers you one, but you politely decline.

She walks off, and Sully immediately warns the boys about her and her organisation ‘Shoreline’. It was an army for hire, but Nadine herself looked like she can handle a fight if need be. 

“Come back to us in one piece boys.” You mumble, taking another sip of your champagne. 

“Have some faith princess, we’re pros.” Sam answers, and you bite your tongue to refrain from bringing up the whole ‘incarcerated for fifteen years’. 

______________________

All within an hour, you and Sully had a run in with a Rafe Adler, and at first he seemed alright until he threw Sully’s drink from his hand. He was a rich little daddies boy who had a hard on for Avery’s treasure, and the idea of competition didn’t excite him. 

He even went as far as to try and converse with you, asking why such a pretty thing was hanging around Victor. Rafe didn’t buy the goddaughter story, but he continued talking to you. If it weren’t for Samuel yelling in your ear telling you to walk away, you would’ve stuck your heel in his foot instantly. 

Rafe excused himself when the auctioneer announced they were starting, threatening Sully once more before walking off. 

“Asshole.” You muttered, sending daggers in his direction.

“You alright (Y/N)?” Sam asks, and you notice his voice sounds a lot clearer.

You look around spotting him in a waiters uniform, you nod at him with a small smile. “I’m okay, nice outfit.” 

He rolls his eyes as he lifts a tray in his hand. “Might keep it, you into role-play?” 

Sully clears his throat, and you both chuckle at the man. 

Some time passed, both Rafe and Sully bidding against each other for the cross. You made your way towards the backdoor, waiting for Nathan to cut the power. As if on cue, the power goes out and you open the door, Sam and Sully behind you in what seemed like seconds.

The lift went smoothly. The power turned back on, and you hear Rafe shouting from the other side. As the three of you begin to walk fast, you take off your heels, holding them in your hand as you follow after the men. 

A fight in heels didn’t sound particularly fun, and you stop when you reach a corridor. “Sully,” You nod towards the door. “We’ll get Nathan, think you can get a car ready?” 

“I can do that.” You hand him your heels, and he shakes his head at you, taking them carefully. He runs into the direction of the door, and you bend over, ripping the side of your dress so you could run. 

“Wow-wow, not that I’m complaining but what’re you doing?” Sam watches as you tear the other side, and you kick your legs out, making sure you have room.

“I get those pants are tight, but you try running around in this thing.” 

He thinks over your answer, and you both begin running again. 

After some climbing, window breaking and a gunfight, the four of you make your getaway in a limo, cross in hand.