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vanya-evergreen · 7 months ago

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How to remember.(Chapter 1)

Masterlist

Relationship: BatFam x reader (platonic)

Summary: At the age of 11, you woke up in an other world without any guidance and all the money you once lacked. You were left with only your memeories and your other memories.

You tired to remember, their life, but it seemed like they didn't want you too. So when trying to navigate the intricate sides of an elite schoo, but you always got in trouble when it came to faces and names.

Cw: brief description of gore

No use of Y/n

Wc: 5k+

A/n- Woo first post! Exciting but so nerve racking, honestly have never posted my fanfic before. So, sorry if its kinda rough, had no one to beta, bare with me please. The characters are probably OOC, since I only recently got back into DC after seeing the "do the butts match post?" from the ai voice reddit post on tik tok. But you what that's more fun anyways, right? anyway please enjoy a really really random idea

Tick tick tick tick

The room was quiet, with only a few scribbles of pens or pencils to fill the void. You resided at your desk, hunched over, while resting your face on your hand. Your eyes lazily review the assignment in front of you for the 7th time. You had finished the assignments for the day, with each answer being correct that left you with only your thoughts. Your eye twitched, turning your head slowly toward the window, while slowly moving your head from your hand to the desk. You went through your day just to try and remember, waking up, first 2 classes, all fine. Until, on your way to your current period, you ran into a younger student, probably a sophomore, maybe a junior.

You cringed silently, you were just in your mind, really your memories from both this world and your original world. When you ran into a younger student, you both fell and could only manage a quick sorry before moving on. He was barely getting to his feet when you turned away, you were so stuck in your mind that you couldn’t even offer a proper apology, let alone your hand. You can't help but think back to the faint whisper you heard as you walked away. You made a mental note to find and properly apologize to him during lunch, if you could remember what he looked like, seeing as you only really saw his keychains on his backpack as they jingled when he got up.

Your head started throbbing as you thought too much, you shut your eyes tightly, wiping your mind clean, then opening them again .You stared out the window, trying not to think much, just trying to learn to just exist. Why is existing one of the hardest things to learn? You watch the clouds clash into each other slowly creating an ocean of a scale of whites and grays. You slowly let your mind blank, even just for a moment, it was nice.

You could slowly feel your drifting off, almost like you were disconnecting from your physical body. Until the sound of mindless chatter started up in the back of the room, pencils still wrote, notably faster than before. This means the period was almost up, so that means lunch and trying to find that one guy. You sat up, collected the assignments from your desk, then got up and turned them in. You got back to your seat right as the bell rang.

You picked up your stuff and got out of there as quickly as you could, just to round the corner to be surprised by an underclassman. He had green eyes that made very uncomfortable eye contact with yours. You almost immediately looked away from his very intense glare. You side eye him and see his bag. The keychains.

“Shit” you let out under your breath as you released your present problem. Your eye drifted back to his face, he didn't look all that happy to see you. ‘definitely him’. “Hey man, listen…” you started. You felt genuinely bad about earlier, you could only imagine how big of an asshole it made you seem like.

“Who are you?” his tone was blunt, with a twinge of annoyance.

Your mind stalled, that's not what you expected him to say. You thought he would threaten you or maybe pull the ‘do you know who i am card?’ or ‘I am going to ruin your life’. You felt the hostility he emulated, you felt uneasy. You furrowed your eyebrows, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times. The almost seemingly endless stream of words in your mind were stuck in your throat. “ ___ ___” you choked out with your last bit of brain cells.

“ Where are you from?” His voice shot straight through you. He gave you no time to collect your thoughts from the initial question. Your mind was scattered from how fast questions came at you. The unease in your stomach grew.

“Uh, gotham, like everyone here.” Confusion clouded your already foggy mind , ‘what did this have to do with me running into him earlier?’ “ I am sorry about earlier by the way.” you added quickly with a sorrowful expression, the cloudiness didn’t consume your intention to apologize.

“Gotha, hm, how come I have never seen any event?” he ignored your apology. ‘Okay, that's rude.’ You tried to grasp at whatever you could to respond.

“What events?” was all you could get. You felt like you were going to faint from the speed of his questions. Why did he care so much about what you did, you were just a stranger to him.

“Galas, business meetings…” he listed off different types of high end events, but you didn’t really listen after the first two. Your head was spinning, you had to try and collect the scattered pieces of your mind.

You rushed your recovery, you went from being up in your head for the last 20 minutes to being pulled down, through the earth’s crust, into a cave being interrogated by someone you have never talked to before this. ‘Who the hell is this guy?’

“I am sorry, but who are you?” You interrupted him midway through his next question, ‘that was a great idea’. “Am I meant to know you or something?” Ah yes, your most infamous line. You put your hand on your forehead, trying to rationalize this interaction. His mouth was open, he looked almost offended by your question.

“you’re joking?” he exclaimed agitated, he creased his eyebrows. You had to get out of there.

“No.“ You turn your head to the side, throwing your hands up in the air while turning your upper body away.

“ Well okay then, have you ever heard of the Waynes?” You do remember hearing about Wayne enterprise last time you went to the doctors, like when you first woke up in this world, which was like, 6 years ago, maybe. That doesn’t really matter. You had heard of it.

“The company?” you questioned. He groaned, if in relief or annoyance, that was beyond you.

“Yes, but what have you heard about the Wayne family?” he looked you square in the eyes, you turned away slowly not really saying anything. You looked guilty. “Nothing?” you nodded assuring his previous statement. Still not meeting his eye, not wanting to deal with that memory for the rest of the day. “How?”

“I don’t read the gossip columns?” You suggested with an awkward shrug and chuckle. You only now realized that there was a wall of students formed around you and him. You definitely had to get out there now.

“What? What do you mean” he was really pissed now, but you didn't even hear half of what he was saying you were just trying to find the quickest way out of here. You looked around looking for an opening within the students. You noticed one right behind him so you had to be quick about it.

“Listen, I am so sorry about being early, I didn't mean to make you fall, really.” you seemed less sincere than before, you were trying to make sure that you didn't seem rushed. “I really didn’t and if it had been any other time I would have made sure that I had offered my hand but I just wasn’t entirely aware. I am sorry, again.” You had made your way around him away around him as you talked, you maintained eye contact with him until you were able to slip in between the students. “Please forgive me, and I am sorry I couldn't answer your question adequately.”

“Wait-” you heard him shout as you speed walked away, trying to blend in with a group of students that were walking down the hallway. He, of course, saw you slip into the group and approached you. You had to think quickly, thankfully there was another group of students that was going the opposite way. You quickly slipped into another group, successfully avoiding him. You could only finally breathe when you made it to the dining hall without running into him again.

You went into the lunch line, trying to just forget whatever the hell that was. You moved through the line slowly, grabbing whatever looked appetizing today. One of the many good things about going to a rich school was that the food was edible. You were grabbing the last bit of your lunch before you felt a cold air run up your spine, you said a silent prayer in hope that it wasn’t who you thought it was. You tried not to look, Maybe if you didn’t look he would leave. You remained calm and walked with your food to the table where you sat with your friends, making sure to make yourself as unnoticeable as possible. You were able to sit down and eat most of your lunch before you felt him approach your table, you could feel a cold sweat develop on your shoulders as you took your last couple of bites.

He gradually approached, carefully looking over everyone trying to figure where you were. Your friends were having a typical conversation, what they were doing that night or where they are going to college and what they are going to study. Until one of them saw him approach. “Is that Damian Wayne approaching us, right now?” that when you realized why he was having a hard time with you early, you couldn’t recognize him or his family, but your friends, who never cared for status and the tabloid’s talk recognized him, or Damian now that you had a name to the face. You straightened up when you heard this.

Your friends looked at you strangely until they realized you were the one he was looking for, and you did not want to be found. They acted quickly. They, as naturally as possible, started to clean up. Throwing away trash, and putting away their food. They even helped you pack up, and as a group you slipped out of the dining hall into a hallway, then out into the courtyard. You would have to thank them later with some homemade baked goods. They really came to your rescue today.

You looked at your phone, 12:45. Lunch was almost over, never would have you thought that you would be grateful for that. ‘Only 5 more minutes’. Your relief was somewhat short lived as you had to now answer their question. “So, what happened?” one of them, Leah, asked flatly.

“Well you see…” You started not really wanting to talk. You looked around trying to procrastinate this conversation.

“Stop putting this off” Another one, Warren, jabbed you in your side with a pencil causing you to flinch.

“Fine…” you sighed feeling defeated, ” So, today I may have, made him fall, but I also fell.” you signed as you talked. you looked down and then back up at Wynn hoping for their pity only to be met with a vaguely threatening look to continue. “And after 3rd period he was waiting for me in the hallway and he asked who I was. I told him my name and then asked who he was because he was asking me a lot of questions.”You smiled with fear behind your eyes. They looked at you mouth agape, no one could be as out of tune with the news as you are.

‘What the hell? Did you even apologize??’ Wynn signed, they were not happy with you.

“ The fuck you mean you didn’t know him?” Leah exclaimed, grabbing onto your shoulders and shaking you very violently, making you feel sick. You knew you fucked up bad when Warren did have anything to say.

“Wynn, I did apologize!! Like 3 times too, and I am sorry I am too busy thinking of other things!” You continued to sign as you talked, trying to defend yourself. Warren and Leah were lecturing you about how stupid your actions were and Wynn was just shaking their head. You started to tune them out when you saw the door open and of course Damian came outside. You quickly got up and picked up your stuff.

“We need to finish our-” he started before being interrupted by the bell ring. Much to your luck.

“Hey, well see you guys later, I need to get to class” you waved goodbye to your friend and signed ‘please don't kill me’ to Wynn, before you ran past Damian to your 4th class, They all exchanged looks with each other before you friends quickly walked away to their own classes. You made it to your 4th period without much trouble, besides a few stares the class went perfectly, boring but fine. The next 2 classes were a mix and repeat of your 4th period, only with increasing whispers every time you walked in a class.

It was finally your 8th class, study hall, you were able to get to your normal spot without much trouble. You were even able to put in your headphones and start working on a rough draft to a machine that you were designing. You sat most of the day up until this point, so your arms always felt stiff. So you stretched your arms, only to hit something. Quickly retracting your arms back to your side, you turned around. ‘FUUUUUU-’ It was Damian. “Heyyyy.” you slowly turned back to your computer in front of you, taking off your headphones.

“Are you gonna avoid me again?” He was looming over you, you could feel the burning on top of your head from the way he glared at you. You shut your laptop and braced yourself for all the questions he was going to ask.

“No.” You shook your head, he sat down across from you. You looked anywhere but at him.

“The events, why have I never seen you?” He went straight to it.

“I don't think I am famous enough to go.” You shrugged, he raised an eyebrow at you suggesting that you were lying. You were ticked off by this. “ Listen, If I have gotten an invite, I have never seen it.” You folded your arms.

“ How did you get into this school?” You didn't really have a clear answer to this one, “I have heard about how you could never recognize people who are from well known families in Gotham, and some that were even famous by themselves.”

“A trust fund.” That was your typical go to answer, but in all honesty you didn't know. While you had some memories, a very limited amount, of this body's life, they were almost all blurry. None of them were really clear, but you could feel what they, the other you, were feeling. You could make really rough assumptions. Like you knew you had a mother (or a female figure) that you loved, and somewhere along the way she got remarried and you had step-parent up until she died. You could feel the way the memories would cause a physical reaction so you tried not to think about it too much. “And I just have never really had the mental space to pay attention to that, plus faces and names aren’t my thing.”

He wasn’t satisfied with your answers “So what? You just don't know anything about the world?”

“No, of course I pay attention to the crimes in Gotham, and the people that handle them.” This wasn’t a lie, you did pay attention to that, you even knew their names, a big honor to have, in your mind at least. You were a huge fan of them, even before- you know.

“Hm.” He slouched as he contemplated your answers, while resting his hands intertwined together maintaining eye contact with you. There was silence between you two, it was too long. You restlessly tapped your fingers on the table while resting your head on the other hand, watching him. Waiting for whatever comes next of his seeming never ended questions, but he seemed to be stumped.

“Is that it?” You broke the silence “You have everything you need to know. Right?” You straighten your back, now sitting up right. He only continued to stare. Internally you rolled your eyes before you put one of your headphones on.

You opened your laptop, quickly glancing over the blueprint for the machine. You were getting bored of this. you looked blankly at your computer screen. ‘I wonder what I can find about Damian's family.’ What a dangerous thought to have. You, with a renewed vigor, quickly opened a new search window and started simple. ‘Wayne family’ you were overwhelmed with the number of results. 2 billion. 2 billion. You understood why Damian was so shocked now. That was just for the family too; you count the profiles, 9.

First, you clicked on ‘Thomas Wayne’, you were somewhat familiar with the name. You read about the tragedy of how he died, you knew this story, you watched a true crime video on it a couple of years back. You felt it was only appropriate to make your way down the family tree so you clicked on ‘Bruce Wayne’. Of course you could assume he was Damian's father. There were links to articles about some scandal of his or how his business was doing. You read a bit further only to find out that the man adopted a lot. Like, you had wondered how he had 6 children but guess that was your answer. You were about to click on Damian's profile only to stop.

“What exactly are you doing?” So he didn’t lose his vocal cords. You snapped out of your trance by his voice.you realized how funky what you just did was.You felt a bit like a creep now, searching up his family in front of him was not the best idea.

You coughed clearing your throat “Why do you care?” You tried to keep an even voice.

“You were staring so intently at your computer that it almost looked like you were planning something.” He leaned back with his arms folded.

“Well,” You closed your search tab later, planning on continuing to research (basically stalk) them later. “I am working on a machine.” You ignored the underlying implication that you were possibly evil. You pulled up the blue prints and math for the machine and turned it around to show him.

“What does it do?” His glare intensified.

“It’s meant to be a multi-dimensional portal, of sorts.” This was the truth. “It's more of a concept than anything.” This was a lie. “I have to make this for my engineering class, we have an assignment where we make up a theoretical invention and try to come up with a way to make them real” Another truth.

“Interesting,” he became more vigilant, yet interested because of your words. “And have you figured it out?”

“No, and if I did it probably wouldn’t work,” much to your dismay. “This assignment is more about how well we can explain our logic than the actual realism of it.”

“Oh,” You couldn’t tell if he was more relieved or disappointed. “Well you must enjoy the class if you are putting this much work into it.”

“Yep ,” you said through slightly gritted teeth. You didn’t mind the class, in fact you would’ve loved it, if you were still in your original word. “I guess.” You smiled tightly, turning your laptop back around. “So what about you? Do you have a favorite class?” Your smile shifted from tight and sharp to curved and soft, this was classic. You did this when you were trying to shift the attention away from something you didn’t want to discuss. You could almost see him relax, ever so slightly, but still he’s coming around. Maybe.

“Art” his arms were still folded, but his eyes didn’t seem so analytical or hostile. While it wasn’t a lot it was better than what you had gotten out of him from most of the conversation.

“Really, would you be willing to show me some of your pieces?” you asked ever so politely.

“Why would I show you?” And there is the defensiveness.

“Because I showed you my blueprints.” your smile faltered for a moment only to return within a second, you looked back to your laptop.

“Right,” his arms were more loosely folded. “Still I don't have too.” his arms tighten back up again.

“That is true,” you nodded in agreement, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing them, but that's your choice.” You weren’t going to force him to do anything, it wasn’t your job. He was quiet. You peered over your laptop to see what was going on. He looked at you, eyes wide, arms barely folded. He looked like a cat after finding something interesting. “What?”

“Nothing.” He returned to his vigilante mood. You shrugged it off and continued to work on your draft. He continued to observe you, you continued to work. You both stayed this way for a while’ it was like you were in a mental battle with him, a really one-sided one. You didn’t really have any intention of resuming the conversation.

The silence was very welcomed. It allowed you to get your work done, you would’ve been done in 30 minutes if he didn’t show up. The silence was interrupted but the sound of a zipper opening. You didn’t look up from your laptop; slowly a sketch book came into your peripheral. You glanced at it, with a bit of hesitation you reached for it. Closing and sliding your laptop to the side, replacing it with the sketch book. you opened the cover and started going through the sketch book carefully. While had only shifted the conversation to get the heat off of you, you were nicely surprised with his talent.

The sketches in the beginning were good, in quality. They were all of different gorey situations, from a man having his head torn apart, to a woman with her skin falling off, it said something about his childhood, but that was his therapist's job to decide what this said. The theme changed after a few more pages of graphics images, which had become much less violent. There were first a few of just some plants, they were nice but not as nice as the first bug you saw, you could deduct that he had real references to base them off of. You flipped through the page, seeing pages full of multiple individual sketches, to pages of only one, fully detailed, landscapes. WIth some gore but it was far fewer than before .

You could see his improvement. They were good to begin with but they were too focused on the bigger image, they were missing something. You felt like he figured whatever he was missing, this was shown in the recurring dog, Titus, or that's what he labeled the drawing. You flipped through a few more pages, mostly animals and plants, until you saw the first human sketch that wasn’t a subject of a horrific act. You had seen the face only 20 minutes prior, it was Bruce Wayne, but he wasn’t wearing his playboy smile, he wasn’t even smiling. It was only a headshot but you could tell he wasn’t present in his mind. He was wearing a thoughtful look, a distant look.

You looked over the page more carefully now, there was still an overall theme of live studies of plants and animals, with some small landscapes, but there was new addition with people now, they were all labeled with their names, you roughly could recalled some of them from early search on his family, they were greatly detail, they all seem to show some sort of part of their personality, their real personalities. Not the public image they upheld but who they really were. You felt like you shouldn’t be looking at this, but you think he would’ve stopped you if he didnt want you seeing this. You turned more pages, he had improved a lot, he had not only found what he was missing, but more. Every drawing and sketch, you left no drawing unseen.

You stopped at one page, it was a full page dedicated to a family portrait, or a sketch of one. The portrait was the formal ones you were used to. They were casual clothes, no one was looking straight forward. No poses, no one sitting, nor was their hair combed neatly. It looked like just a family out and about. They all seemed so close, it seemed to be more of a wish than a reality but you were not close to him so maybe it was his reality. You looked over the page a final time before turning to the page. The rest of the sketchbook was architecture and landscapes with sprinkles of animals that you assumed were his pets. The talent he had was special, you would honestly tell him that he should pursue art, even if just on the side.

You slid it to Damian. “You have some real talent.” You expressed with a calm tone.

“I know.” He stated as if it was a known fact. You choked on the air in your throat trying to hold back your laughter. He held a blank expression, he wasn’t cocky, if he was he would be smiling.

“I am glad that you see it,” You look at your phone, 5 minutes before school ends, “I always get annoyed when people try to deflect praise.” You closed your laptop and put it into your bag. “I think it's a waste of time, it's just an attempt to seem humble” you secured your bag to your back, “but that’s kinda hypocritical of me to say, don't you think?” The bell rings.

“Yes it is.” he agrees, nodding his head.

“By the way, what class did you skip to talk to me?” There was no way he had study hall this period.

“Well,” he paused. He just stood there not really wanting to answer you, you chuckled. He wasn’t happy that you laughed at him.

“Alright, good to know. Anyways, have a good day.” You walk away, still chuckling. before leaving through the door, you turned back, looking at him “Feel free to show me more art if you ever choose to.” You gave him a wide grin as you span around on your heel and continued to walk away with the typical bounce in your step. You didn't see his reaction, but it didn’t matter. You were able to get away from him without him asking you anymore questions you wouldn’t have been able to answer.

The hallway was crowded, a sea of students were either trying to head home or back to their dorms. You got through it quickly as you had taken to the window method, where if you see an opening in between students, you take it. Something seemed off today, well more off than normal. You didn’t pay attention to that. You made it to the front of the school and found your driver waiting for you, you waved and smiled before getting in and heading home.

Damian wasn’t sure how to feel about this, or he couldn’t pinpoint how he felt. You were so nice but he was suspicious of you. I mean, wouldn’t you be too? You were rich enough to go to Gotham academy. Which was known for being a school for the elite, yet he couldn’t connect you to any of the elite families. You also didn’t know any other elite family, especially the Wayne's. A founding family of Gotham, and always had something going around on the news. It's like you just dropped on to the face of the earth randomly when you were 11.

He had already pulled your file from both cityhall and the school. Your school record was almost squeaky clean, only one instant of a fight that was deemed not your fault and bullying targeted towards you. Your city record only showed that you were an orphan with no listed legal guardian and that you have lived in the same penthouse for almost 7 years, near old Gotham. “No named father and mother is dead” he read his notes out loud. “What the fu-”

“Master Damian.” Alfred was standing in the doorway with a steamed suit for this weekend's gala. “Excuse the intrusion, I just came to put your formal suit away and say that Master Bruce is ready for patrol.”

“Thank you Alfred,” Damian gathered the pages, straightened them, and put everything into a file. He placed it to the side for later.

“Also,” Alfred continued to speak as he hung Damians suit in his closet. “I got a call from the school” Damian stopped and looked at him. Damian’s eyes followed Alfred as he walked towards the door. “Master bruce doesn’t know, yet, but I wouldn't recommend doing that again” Alfred warned him as he shut the door. Damian was glad Alfred would keep his secret, even if just for this once.

Damian heads down to the Batcave. He was still annoyed, he hated how easily he could let his guard falter so easily around you. You were too nice to a practical stranger. He thought, no, he knew that there was something up with you. There is no one still this decent in Gotham, not in the city where they needed a rich family to handle their criminal problem, or where there seems to be a S-level threat every couple of months. You simply could not exist in a city like this.

He passed many large frames with paintings, he never really paid attention to them, like he would be now. There were points where there were smaller frames with photos and he looked over at just the right time to see a very familiar face. He stared for a moment before continuing to walk but much faster now. After he was suited up, he met his father as he was sitting at the computer.

“Damian.” Bruce greeted him, still reading over files pulled up on the screen. Damian to a quick read over the files, it was a missing boy’s case. Probably kidnapped and being held for ransom or maybe because her parents did know something they shouldn’t.

“Father.” Damian replied. He eyed his father, he wanted to ask straight up but he knew his father would easily hide his reaction if he did so directly. So he waited for the question he typically hated disliked answering.

“How was school today?” Bruce was never the most attentive father but he tried, this was one of his few ways of trying to stay in tune with his children's lives. Damian would always say mostly the same thing ‘unchallenging’ or something along those lines. But tonight was different.

“Fine, but I met this person today,” Damian said.

“Oh really” Bruce raised an eyebrow and turned his chair around to face him, Damian has never mentioned meeting someone before. “Who are they?”

“___ ___, they are a senior.” Bruce tensed for a second at the mention of your name. That was all Damian needed to see from him. Bruce, of course, regained his composure within milliseconds.

“Hm, good to hear” Bruce almost mumbled. “I hope they are nice.” He turned back to the computer. Damian was a bit smug about getting that reaction from his father, what a long night it was going to be for Bruce.

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raenizza · 2 years ago

Text

What Do You Need?

The reader needs to get something from Roman but is too shy and nervous to ask him.

Word Count: 1056

Warnings: None that I know of so far. It's as SFW as possible.

Author’s Note: Hiyah babies!! It has been forever since I wrote up a little summ summ for y’all. So for a little treat, here’s a mini one-shot I typed up.

“Yea, I don’t want anything in the warehouse tonight. I need it to be out in the front.” Roman states on the phone as he paces back in forth in his office.

You overheard him on the top of the stairway, looking down at the envelope in your hand.“Dammit,” you whispered to yourself. Thinking that this could be the worst shit ever. You could not even fathom the idea of how you got into this situation. You are responsible. Smart. And very organized, how the hell could this happen? You walked back into the Master bedroom, heading straight to the balcony. You opened up the door and stepped outside to take a breath. In deep thought, you started to think about the decisions you’ve made in your life and how much of a responsible person you are and how you’ve always had a plan B, but not this time. You took several more deep breaths and stared at the sunset that lay ahead of you. Tilting your head to the side and closing your eyes with a silent prayer.

“Lord, heavenly father, please let this man say ‘yes’” you silently whispered to yourself as the wind blew against your warm face. You turned your body around facing the bedroom and walked back in quickly, heading straight back downstairs. Still holding the envelope in your hand, you finally approached Roman’s office door. You can still hear him conversating back and forth on the phone loudly as his emotions begin to intensify with each response. You took a deep breath once more before opening the office door. “NO!!” Roman screamed loudly as he paces back and forth near his desk. You were taken aback by his random outburst. He had frustration written all over his face, but the moment he looked at you, everything changed.

“Hey Baby,” he breathed out in a quiet, more calm tone, as his whole demeanor changed when you walked in. “Hey, honey are you a little busy right now?” you asked him quietly. “HOLD ON, JT GIMME A SEC. Yea baby you need something?”

“Oh if you’re busy right now, I’ll just come by another time-” you quickly responded. “No, No I’m not,” he said as he held his hand over the phone.

“JT WE’LL FINISH THIS UP TOMORROW, AIGHT” He ended the call. “Sorry about that baby, what’s going on?” he said in his softest voice, sitting down in his office chair.

“Oh I just wanted to make sure if we are still on for Saturday night?” you asked with a slight smile trying to build conversation and not jump the gun.

“Of course we are. You know it’s been a while since we had a date.” he said sitting back down in his chair. “I know, I was just making sure, you did not have any other plans.” You approached him and leaned on the desk facing him as he glances at you and back at his Macbook.

“I wouldn’t agree if I did.” he looked up at you with a smile. You looked down at the ground. Still trying to build up the courage, but also hoping he doesn’t notice.

“Baby…” he said as he stopped typing.

“You got something else on your mind?” he asked. Roman knew something was up, he can tell when you are holding back.“Ummmmmm…” you trailed off for a bit hoping he’d changed the conversation. You leaned up from the desk and started to walk around the office, trying to figure out another topic to talk about. Roman got up from his seat and trailed behind you, grabbing your waist and pulling you in unexpectedly.

“Baby, I can always tell when you need something wassup,” he asked genuinely. You hid the envelope at your sides, but he peeped it and slowly went for it. “Nah we ain’t gotta go through this whole dance, what you need?” He asked once more. You gripped the envelope in your hand, and then folding it back up into your pocket. “Some money,” you said as quietly as possible not making eye contact.

“How much?” he said still looking at you with softness in his big brown eyes.. “A thousand.” “A thousand? That's it?” he repeated. “You have to fight me over a thousand?” he chuckled. You looked up at him, with innocence. “What you need it for?” “For something.” “For what? You need to tell me what you need it for” he replied “Well, I am running a bit short on my car insurance. Only because I thought I budgeted properly.” you responded, truthfully. “That’s what in the envelope?” he asked. You nodded your head, yes in response. “Was that hard?” he chuckled and looked at you deeply.

Roman took a step back and head to the right side of his desk. He opened the very last drawer in which lies a safe with a combination lock only he knows.

“Hold on, aight, you said you need a thousand?” he says as he started counted the wads of cash. “1, 2, 3,4…” he began to trail off. “32, 33..” he continued. You stared at him in shock. “Here’s 45. Take that.” He said. “Oh, baby, no all I needed was just-” “I know you said a thousand, just take the 45. Do whatever you want with the rest.” “But Baby, I-” “Take it. Ok. That’s nothin.” He placed the money in a large black Dior bag that was underneath his desk. He handed it to you and then cupped your cheeks. “Listen, you need it, Okay.” “And whatever my baby needs, I will provide no matter what.” He says to you before a deep, passionate french kiss. Roman pulled your chin closer making your insides feel warm and tingly. “Alright now go do what you gotta do.” Pulling away and giving your ass a quick smack.

“Thank you so much, Baby, I appreciate this.” You said walking out of his office. He smiled at you and then watched you from behind as you left. “Love u baby.” He says as he goes back to work. You closed the door of his office exhaling out and praised the Almighty God for your man. The only thing to worry about now is how you will pay him back. And that will soon come later.

#roman reigns #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x mc #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x black oc reader #wwe #the tribal chief #wwe imagines #wwe fic #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns x female reader #wwe headcannons #wwe fandom #roman reigns imagine #head of the table

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that-one-xachster · 3 months ago

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by saying something stupid like 'i love you'

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"I love you"

"What?"

"Nothing."

-> 3 times in which you try to tell him that you love him, but thats not how it goes

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can be taken for any character that you'd like, I was feeling a bit silly haha- might get back into writing

not sorry if this one shot sounds like a comedy show rather than fully angsty, I wrote it based on how I have interactions with people, so im not sorry cause I don't know how you interact with people. please dont come at me for it not sounding angsty or wtv GAAAA I SOUND RUDE LMFAO WHAT

not proofread!

[f/n] = friend's name

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"I love you."

"Huh?"

He looked up from your notebook, holding his pen, explaining the question in chemistry you didn't understand. He sat so close to you, your knees touching, making you feel like a man in the 1800s who just saw a woman's ankle.

You shook your head.

"Nothing."

He just shrugged and went back to explaining the problem to you, and you shifted your weight, resting your head in your palms.

You tapped your foot repeatedly against the table, listening to what he was explaining, before stopping him -

"Wait a second, isn't that the wrong step? You gotta restart-"

"Huh? What are you talking about- oh shit."

"See-"

"Yeah, funny story how about we both just go and ask [f/n]?"

"True. Do that, she's the smarter one."

"Smarter than you for sure."

"No, you're the most idiotic one out of all of us, shut up-"

"No can do-"

You two bickered back and forth until the class ended, never getting to ask [f/n].

Moments like these were what made you fall harder.

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"I love you."

He didn't even hear you this time. Of course he didn't, how would he? He was in the hall, talking to some other friends of his. You're not his only friend, you shouldn't be so selfish-

"Did you say something? Sorry, I was submitting this assignment."

The same friend mentioned before, [f/n] sat next to you in class. She was adamant that you had a thing for the guy, despite your multiple attempts to deny it. No way in absolute hell would you admit that you had a flimsy, silly, teensy little crush on him. No way.

"Nah, you can go back to that."

"I have a better idea, did you hear what happened this morning to-"

And she told you about some events that occurred in the morning, as if she were your personal newsletter. For free of course. She was the nerdy type, but had many friends and always knew what was up with the school, and of course she had to fill you in. You listened to her tell you about random fights, break ups, make ups, and people being stupid in general, enjoying the time you spend with your friend.

Sometimes a distraction is good right? Sometimes.

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"I love you."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No no no no- what? Repeat that."

"Dude, I said nothing-"

"Nuh uh, you keep mumbling random shit and won't tell me what it is bruh, spit it out."

"The hell you mean 'nuh uh'? Buddy you don't need to peek into everything I say, you see, im a verbal thinker hArDy hAr hAr-"

"..."

"....for the love of god never do that again."

"....yeah."

Akward silence engulfed you two. The teacher walked in after a few seconds, immediately starting the class.

Recovering from the past embarrassment, you whispered jokes to each other, poked each other with your pens, copied each other's notes when you couldn't finish writing them in time, and got caught laughing too much for a joke, but hey.

At least he didn't hear you mumble another soft, barely audible, "I love you."

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| ennoshita, atsumu, OIKAWA, tendou, hanamaki (hear me out), kirishima, denki (hmo), SERO, honenhuki, muramatsu (a very big hmo), + anyone else you'd like! these were the ones I thought of lol |

hope you enjoyed <3

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bonus ! funny little smidgen- well funny to me lmao

"Do you have the answers for math?" "I thought you did." "..." "..." "Ok- ok well I did half at home, I'll just do the other half now-" "Hold up- which half did you do?" "The first, why?" "Goddammit, I did the first too." "We're screwed?" "We're screwed."

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sombrashe · 9 months ago

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content drug dealer!Troy x weed smoker!Reader, chubby! afab! gn! reader, drug mention, lots of dr♡g content, reader is a little dr♡ggie 🫶🏻, it's just weed, pubic hair, cunnilingus, blowjob

note(s) this is not at all edited, i wrote this on my phone and need to post it immediately ♡ this is for all my slutty virgins

Huffing you follow closely behind your friend. Her hand is intertwined with yours, but you still feel like you could easily lose her in the crowd. You weren't exactly sure whose party this was all you could tell was they threw ragers based off the noise level that only grew the further down the block you walked. Despite the bruised ribs from randoms elbows you made it to the front door in one piece.

"Hey Charlie!"

Ahhhh so this is Charlie. Smiling you give the blonde woman a quick nod. Your friend keeps her grip on your hand and you suddenly feel like a child whose mom just saw a friend at the grocery store. You manage to keep your patience the people in like behind you two more than annoyed enough. After a good few minutes Charlie kind of shoves your friend forward with the promise of finding her later. Making your way inside, you're surprised at how dingy the house is. From the outside it looked gorgeous with the dark masonry complimenting the lighter woodwork. You barely have time to check out the area before you're being led down a hallway and into a white tiled kitchen. Now this is what you were expecting. Granite topped counters, sparkling white tiles at your feet and sea green back splash adding a pop of color to the medicinal styled room. It was a gorgeous room and you got to take a longer look before you are led to the opposite side.

"Troy... Troy! Hey! This is my friend. Yeah, the one i was telling you about. Yeah. It's their first real party."

She punctuates her sentence with a gently shoulder bump. You have absolutely no idea who this man was. He was ridiculously hot though. You find yourself unable to look away as he conversed with your girl. Only when he takes a glance at you do you break your eye contact. Heat creeps up your neck as you slowly look at him again. Trying hard not to seem eager at getting an eyeful.

"Troy."

He extends his hand and you shake it. Awfully formal for a house party. You can't help but think theres something more to this guy. The way he held himself and how he was alone but in a deliberate way. This is the dealer I was telling you about. Your friend mutters against the shell of your ear. The music thumps in tandem with your heart as you try to give a polite smile. Theres no way this guy will want to sleep with me.

A few months ago your friend was so excited to tell you about the new drug dealer who moved in down the street. His house an immediate hub of activity. She blabbed on and on about how cute he was and how she couldn't wait to introduce you to him. You let her have her moment and listened carefully to every word she said.

"... So I told him about you and he really wants to meet you! Showed him that cute photo of you when you got your hair done last week."

You were shocked to say the least. Why the hell did she tell him about you? And why did he really want to meet you? These were both questions you verbalized and her response had heat rushing to your head.

"Oh well he normally gives discounts to pretty girls, especially the ones willing to sleep with him, but i think he's willing to make an exception for you. He said he loves your style. Thats a huge compliment coming from him."

You blink up at her and move from your lying position to sitting fully upright. Sleep with him?

"I haven't even tried his shit yet. There's no way I'm giving head to a dude with shit weed."

Your friend just hopped down beside you and bumped the contents of her Sephora bag onto your lap. Two packs of edibles, an eighth and a cart bounced onto the fat on your thighs. Taking a moment to look through everything you finished your investigation by opening the baggie and taking a wiff. Your friend sat by expectantly, waiting for your response.

"Just because it smells good doesn't mean it is."

She sighed and flopped back onto your bed.

"Then try it silly. Thats the whole point. If it's as good as Jessica says it is then you could put that mouth to good use and score us some freebies."

You mumble under your breath saying nothing of real importance. Sliding open your bedside table you removed a small red and pink speckled bowl. Alongside the bowl you pull out a hello kitty grinder and a paper plate. While your friend plucks a few bits of the bud from the baggie you open your grinder and let her place the small pieces onto the spikes. Closing the lid you twist it a few times checking once to make sure there was none stuck. Carefully, using the plate to catch and fallout, you start packing the bowl. Picking up the few little bits that fell from your fingertips you dust them on top of the packed bud. Slipping the plate and grinder back into the drawer you replace them with a plain black lighter. Clicking it on you raise the bowl to your lips and take a breath. Holding it for a moment you soon exhale a cloud of dilapidated white smoke. Smacking your lips you make a show of trying the bud. Another hit. Another exhale. And you're passing the bowl over to your girl.

"Okay so maybe I am willing to meet this new guy."

"I'll introduce you." She puffs proudly in between coughs.

He mirrors your polite smile with one of his own, a bite of something more behind his pearly whites. Squeezing your arm your friend excuses herself to go and find Charlie. You watch her go before turning back towards the tall man. God he has to be at least 6 foot. And handsome as hell. Taking a step closer you lean up hoping he takes the hint. He does and leans down so you can speak against his ear. The music much too loud for regular conversation. You introduce yourself, a manicured hand gently gripping lean muscle. You got them done especially for him. Your friend explaining he goes for the ones with longer nails, "maybe he likes being scratched." She had giggled. Her eyes bloodshot.

"How do you know Layla?"

His voice is a deep rumble coming straight from his chest as he spoke lowly. A conversation for just the two of you.

"We've been friend since middle school, met in math class. We were both in one of those higher level classes. Never got anything done though."

You give a small laugh and squeeze at his bicep making sure he feels the blunt edges of your nails gently pressing into his polo. He's so close you can feel him smile against your helix.

"Sounds like you had a lot of fun."

"I'm always having fun. I love fun."

It was corny, but it worked. His left hand leaves his side and finds its way against the small of your back. Guiding you he stays hunched over for a few more moments.

"Then I think I have something you're going to love."

Straightening he's at his full height as he walks side by side with you through the crowded living room. Red solo cups and beer bottles clink on the wooden floor as you shift through them. You catch your girls eye and give her a small wave and a oh my god he's so fine look. You see her start to make a thumbs up before you're ushered into a small room. The room was bare except for a table almost displayed in the middle of the room. He places you in front of the table and you wait patiently as he moves over to the small closet in the corner. Shifting through a few things he seems to find what he was looking for and with a smile shakes a fairly large metal box in your direction. Coming back to the opposite side of the table he spends like ten whole minutes organizing and placing different products onto the table. Your jaw drops slightly at the amount of strains he had placed in front of you. Once he's finished he opens his arms wide with an award winning smile.

"Ta Dah. I have a gun so don't try taking my shit."

You shake your head and scoff.

"Im trying to see your dick not get shot."

His grins turns wolfish as he plucks a small baggie with no label. Opening it carefully he plucks out a piece of bud and holds it up to you. You lean forward and take a quick sniff. Loud as hell. Fuck he smells good. Opening your palm you examine the piece under the lamplight. Deep orange speckles with dark green in a gorgeous cacophony of color.

"Whats the strain?"

You move the piece of bud from one hand to the other.

"Hybrid."

Rubbing your fingers together you feel just how sticky they are.

"How much?"

Another sniff

"For you? On the house tonight. How much do you want?"

You pause and raise an eyebrow. Free?

"An ounce?"

You say it more like a question. He responds by plucking the piece of bud out of your fingertips and drops it back into the baggie. Wrapping the baggie back up he pockets it before looking back into your eyes.

"Wanna see any others?"

He drums his fingers across the table. You shake your head.

"An ounce will be enough for the month. If i need more i'll be sure to come straight here. Do you have any papers? Preferably pre-rolled. I don't like getting my fingernails dirty."

You wiggle your nails at him and he actually takes your hand in his to look at them. You weren't expecting it and blushing heat fills your cheeks. He hums in agreement. He's so gentle when he releases your hand before packing up. Clutching your hand in the other you watch him meticulously put every baggie into the box. Carefully stacking them on top of one another.

"On the house. You do that for everyone who wants to give you head?"

"Only the ones I actually want it from. Youre one of the lucky ones."

He flashes you another wolfish grin before turning to hide that box away. You make a point not to watch as you wait patiently.

"My papers are in my room. You can wait down here while I grab 'em."

"Do you mind if I come with? I'm a little picky."

He makes the few steps from the closet to you. Holding out his arm he waits until you're wrapped around him. Leading you through the door he pushes past people bent over taking a bump. You straighten and stay close like the sweetest piece of candy. The stairs are tricky, people slumped over half asleep and you have to trail behind him. He keeps your finger interlocked though and you know for sure he's wrapped around your finger. At least for the night. Hopefully many nights. Hooking a right you walk into a master bedroom. It was huge with a giant plush bed resting in the corner. Is that a fucking mirror?

"You have a mirror above your bed?"

"Yeah. I find it helps my clients cum faster when they can see me fucking 'em. You mind?"

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

You turn around and listen as he rustles around seeking out his product. Was he going to make me watch? God you hoped so.

"m'good."

You turned back around and towards his bed. Laid out were a few different types of wraps. You walked over and placed a hand on his arm. Scratching at him with a pout.

"I'll take any pre rolled, i don't care. I'm in your room now. Can we move on?"

"Thank god."

He grabbed up the wraps and discarded them on top of his spotless dresser. He's cupping your face within a blink. His lips crash against yours and you taste the faintest hint of Mary on his lips. The kiss is brutal and you smush your face closer to his. Teeth nicking lips. Tongues licking lips. And all you can do is moan nice and pathetic for him.

"You're like really hot." He mutters out loud.

His hands float from your neck and jaw to your hips where he pulls you nice and close. You feel how hard he is through his jeans. Reaching down you cup him. Trying your best to rub at him through the denim. He groans and grinds into your hand. He's back to cupping your jaw and his thumbs rub at your cheeks. His lips never leave yours and you swear you weren't going to have any left if you kept this up. You decide to pull away and looked up at him. His eyes are stormy. Fuck he made you wet. You fight the urge to pull him back into a kiss. His lip has a split down the middle and you realize you have a matching one on the top lip. He doesn't wait even a moment before he's pushing your jaw up so he can mouth at your neck. Sucking in some of your flesh he chews on it before letting go. Moving down a bit he leaves wet bruises in his wake. Licking at your collarbone he chews on the fleshy bone. All the while you're undoing his belt to let the tip of his cock poke out of his briefs. Squeezing at the length of it you occasionally rub the tip of your finger against his slit. He pulls away just enough to pant at your slick skin. Bumping his forehead against your chest he replaces your hand with his. Yanking down his pants he let them pile at his ankles. You take the hint and gently pull at his hair to remove him from your chest. Sinking down to your knees you roll his briefs down his thighs and over his knees. He shrugged off his jacket in the process and his leaking cock jumps against his t shirt. Olive green darkening to an army green as his cock leaks a wet spot. You hum and take him in your palm. Taking the tip of his cock in your mouth you suck gently on it. It tastes surprisingly sweet and you hum directly against him. He groans out and cups the back of your skull. He doesn't push down and you appreciate it greatly. Letting spit fill your mouth you wait until you get a good bit. Letting it leak from behind your lips you use your palm to slick his shaft. You move fingers over veins and pull away to lap at his slit.

"You taste so good. Such a pretty dick."

His hips jerk and this time he forces your head back down onto his cock. You smile and swallow around him. Pushing yourself you swallow inch by inch until you can fully relax to take him down your throat. The patch of hair that leads from his belly button to right above his pelvis tickles the tip of your nose. So fucking pretty. As you bob your head he lets out the sweetest noises. Moans and whines fill your ears. His hips jerk every time your nose touches that patch of hair. You feel his abdomen clench as he tries his hardest to stay still. Scratching gently at his hardened abdomen his skin jumps a few times. He grabs at your wrist and keeps his grip loose as to follow your actions. Squeezing his spit soaked cock you suck at his tip a few more times.

"'m 'boutta cum."

You hum in acknowledgment and continue to jack him off into your mouth. It doesn't take long before his hips surge forward and he's filling your mouth. Salt coats your tongue and you greedily milk him dry. Swallowing every drop you pull away from him completely and wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand. He crouches down and sticks his tongue in your mouth. Making out with you for a few minutes before pulling away beaming.

"G'nna let me taste you?"

You lick at the bone of his jaw. Chewing on it before answering.

"First time i've been asked that." You give a short laugh.

He looks into your eyes suddenly serious. "Go on 'head and get on that bed."

You suck in your bottom lip. Standing you pull off your slacks. He looks at your exposed cunt. Looks back up at you. Then finished by making eye contact with your cunt again. He presses a sloppy kiss against the fat of your labia. Kicking off your jeans, socks and shoes you climb onto his bed. Stretching out you arch your back before settling down facing him. His cock is already hard again and rests against his abdomen. His shirt having been discarded during your little show. Crawling towards you he looks up at you over your belly.

"Just know, this is the first time i've eaten a client out."

Heat washes over you and causes you to clench around nothingness. Using his thumbs he spreads your folds apart. They split with a wet squish. Reaching down you gently run your fingers through his hair.

"So pretty. Bet you taste so good."

He's leaning in, his tongue out and waiting. Flattening it out he presses it against your clit with a low groan. You feel heat burn at your eyes as his tongue gently laps at your clit. It's overwhelming how good this feels.

"Wait do that again... fuck. Right there. Thank you thank you thank you."

you can't help but chant praise as he follows your lead. Only breaking it to give an experimental suck. When you react positively he follows a routine. Lick, suck, lick, suck. You say his name in warning already feeling yourself worked up enough to cum.

"Hold on. W'nt you to cum on my tongue."

He replaces his tongue with his finger and you let out an annoyed huff. Kicking your leg down you connect your heel with hid shoulder blade.

"Oh come on. I can get you there again."

He rolls his shoulders giving you a warning glare. You just roll your eyes a slump back.

"You ruin every clients ability to cum?"

"Just the one's i think deserve a little extra time."

Even though there was anger at having been kicked bouncing around his eyes he gave you a genuine flirty smile. He takes a moment and starts circling your clit with the pad of his pointer finger.

"Tell me how you want it."

His words flip your stomach as butterflies threaten to burst out of you. You give him simple instructions: "just like that." "No wait do that again." "Can you try something?" He follows every order with great precision like he was made to be in between your legs. You're so turned on you're not even thinking about much better he can make it. Saying something too soft to make out he plunges his tongue inside your dripping cunt. You let out a mewl as he flicks his tongue inside of you. No one has been so attentive like him and you start to get lightheaded. Dragging your nails gently against his scalp you egg him on with a crescendo of noise. Removing his hand from your clit he reaches up slightly and roughly tugs at your pubic hair. Your hips jerk and you let out a shout as you grind incessantly against his face. He takes turns causing you that small amount of pain before rubbing at you. You're so close now. You can feel the heat in your lowers abdomen start to smolder. So close. So close.

"Please don't stop."

He mumbles something into your cunt but it's far too mumbled to even begin to decipher. He keeps his actions strict his only focus right now was to make you cum. The way he laps at your core tells you all you need to know. Soon that heat bursts and you're gasping out a cry. Your thighs clench around his head and he gets buried in soft skin. Removing his hands from you he reaches to clutch at the fat of your lower belly. He seems to be enjoying himself just as much as you. The vibrations of his moans and sharp whines help tumble you further and further. When you're finished and calmed enough to relax your legs he gets to work pressing gentle kisses all across your pretty soaked cunt. When he leans back you're able to sit up. You immediately feel the need to lay back down when you get a look at him. His styled hair was a complete mess, sweaty strands sticking to his forehead. His lips and chin were covered in your essence, slick that he licked his lips to get. It's his eyes that cause your stomach to clench, oceans of blue darkened and pupils blown so wide you might as well of been looking into a black hole the way they sucked you in. If he wasn't gorgeous before he certainly was now. Especially with the cum stain on his shirt. He came by eating me out... i wanna fuck him so badly. He stands and offers you his hand. You slide your palm against his and he helps you onto your feet. And then holds onto you as you stumble your bones feeling like jello. He chuckles and tucks some hair behind your ear.

"Don't go falling for me now."

"Corny." You let out a snort of a laugh and he grins triumphantly.

Straightening you up he waits until you're able to stand without shaking before letting go. He leans down and yanks his brief and jeans back onto his hips. Leaving you unattended you dress yourself as he goes through a closet finding a new shirt to wear.

"You can go 'head and pick any cones you want. Here's your ounce."

He chucks off his shirt and tosses it into a pile of clothes. He removes the baggie he stashed earlier and tosses it your way. You catch it and slip it into your pocket. You were used to this part. Going through the cones you settle on some hemp ones. Pocketing those too you start to head out when he calls to you.

"This better not be the last time I see you."

"Trust me, after tonight I'm a regular."

He chuckles and pulls on the chosen top of the evening. It's the last thing you see before you're closing the door with a click.

#fear the walking dead #dividers by cafekitsune #fear the walking dead smut #ftwd #ftwd smut #dealer!troy #troy otto #troy otto smut #troy otto x reader #troy otto x reader smut #chubby reader #serena writes

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whysamwhy123 · 1 year ago

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Because I truly have a problem, here's even more OrangeHook. A random idea I had, too short for AO3, wrote this in like fifteen minutes so it probably sucks but whatever.

He figured Hook would get a kick out of this. An old photograph of him, from over a decade ago. He’s grinning like an idiot, surrounded by what was at the time his group of friends. Some of those guys he hasn’t spoken to in years. But some he still keeps up with. Or he’s at least aware that they’re doing okay. And Chuck’s there, of course.

But Hook, naturally, is focused only on him. ‘’How old were you here?’’

‘’About your age,’’ Orange answers.

Hook hums. Orange studies his expression, but he finds he can’t read it. The kid can’t take his eyes off it, but that could mean a lot of things.

Orange decides to go ahead and ask the number one thing on his mind right now.

‘’So, would you date me?’’

Hook looks over, an eyebrow raised. ‘’Uh, I already am?’’

Orange points to his past self in the picture. ‘’No, I meant me when I was the same age as you. Would you date him?’’

Hook’s lips purse. There’s a noticeable pause.

‘’Sure,’’ he says eventually. Not super convincing.

Orange shakes his head, chuckling. ‘’You really do have an old man thing, huh?’’

‘’Old person thing,’’ Hook insists. ‘’And I don’t, actually. I’ve dated plenty of people my own age. It’s just a…preference.’’

‘’Uh huh,’’ Orange says. He realises he doesn’t want to discuss this particular topic in much depth. He hopes Hook will drop it.

The younger man’s eyes travel back to the photo and then to Orange’s face, as if comparing and contrasting. He raises a hand and gently traces his fingertips along Orange’s jaw, and then up to cup his cheek. His touch is warm, familiar. Orange freezes in place to allow the far-from-unwelcome touch.

‘’Don’t take this the wrong way,’’ Hook says. ‘’But…you grew into your looks.’’

Orange smiles. He’s heard that before. It feels more like a compliment coming from Hook.

‘’We can’t all be Forever Pretty, like you,’’ he jokes.

Hook nods. ‘’Yeah. I can’t imagine the struggle.’’

What a little shit. Orange playfully bats his hand away.

Hook just smirks back at him. ‘’There was this girl I used to date -’’

Orange gives him a look.

Hook rolls his eyes. ‘’This woman I used to have a thing with. She was…’’ He trails off.

‘’My age?’’ Orange finishes for him.

‘’A little older,’’ Hook corrects. ‘’She used to tell me one of the most annoying things about men was how well they age. She’d keep telling me how good I was gonna look when I hit fifty.’’

Orange snorts. Not because he disagrees, it’s just…funny imaging that as someone’s idea of pillow talk. But maybe that’s just the type of people that Hook used to pursue…

‘’I’m looking forward to seeing that for myself,’’ Orange says.

Hook’s smile grows. He casts his eyes back to the photograph. It’s like he can’t look away for too long.

‘’You should let me take some new pictures,’’ he says.

‘’Of me?’’

‘’Yeah. My camera’s way better than whatever crappy old thing spat this out. And I actually know how to frame an image. And what lighting would work best for your skin tone and -’’

‘’Alright, alright, I get the idea,’’ Orange is curious though. ‘’What kind of pictures were you thinking of?’’

Hook meets his gaze. There’s a glint in his eye. Orange is a big fan.

‘’Good ones,’’ Hook says simply.

#Sam actually wrote a thing #Orange Cassidy/Hook #Orange Cassidy x Hook #OrangeHook #Listen. I just think it'd be...interesting #If Hook wanted to do a little photoshoot with that handsome old man of his #Figure he'd know Orange's best angles y'know? How to really highlight his subject's beauty #The one benefit of dating pretentious artiste boys

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afewproblems · 2 years ago

Text

youtube

This feels like such a Steve song, you know? (Granted Groundhog Day did not come out until 1993 but let's just ignore that for now)

Like maybe piano player Steve based on my other post here, poured all his feeling and worries about being left behind by everyone he knows and loves into this song.

The kids will be finishing highschool soon and definitely don't need him to babysit anymore, his car was totalled in the earthquakes that nearly decimated Hawkins so he's no longer the party chauffeur, and Robin and Nancy are heading to college in the fall and Eddie has been talking about getting out of Hawkins since he woke up from the hospital and Steve?

Steve feels stuck.

So maybe he writes, he's never been a big writer before, it's always been difficult to connect ideas or find the words he wants, but something takes over on a random Saturday. He gets it all out in a matter of minutes and sits down at the lonely piano in his parents' living room.

They've left for good, his parents, the house is paid off and in his name, they won't be back for it.

He plays around, yelling out the brand new lyrics. Like it's a joke, like his voice doesn't echo around the empty halls and rooms, like it doesn't crack eventually.

He plays around until he has something resembling a little song.

He feels a little better.

He leaves the notebook on the closed piano lid and forgets about it.

Until Eddie picks it up on another random Saturday.

It's just the two of them, they talk and smoke in the yard, and bake a frozen pizza for the two of them. It's nice, quiet and calm. Something neither of them have had a lot of recently.

"Is this a poem Stevie?" Eddie asks with wide eyes, he's grinning but there is a flicker of surprise on his face, Steve scrambles to snatch the scribbler out of his hands but Eddie jumps onto the couch and holds his arms above his head while throwing a hand out to push at Steve's face.

"Give it back Eds it's not--"

"Its good, it's cool if it is a poem man, I didn't know you could write".

Steve steps back allowing Eddie's hand to fall away, "It's uh," he chews his lip and wills the blush that coats his ears and cheeks away, "it's actually a song".

Eddie stares at him as if he's never seen him before.

"Be still my beating heart, Harrington, you never fail to surprise the shit outta me!"

Eddie grabs his arm and leads Steve back to the piano, flipping up the lid with an excited snap.

"Can I hear it?" He asks, voice suddenly soft, as though he knows how big this is for Steve.

He hesitates, this is new territory for the two of them since they have been dancing around each other recently, and he's not entirely sure exactly how Eddie feels about him, and what if this---

"You don't have to, Steve, I don't want you to be all freaked out, about this. I won't say anything if this is like, a secret or something," Eddie backpeddles, flicking the lid shut and putting the scribbler back where he found it.

That cements it for him.

"Its not really a secret," Steve mumbles as he steps forward slowly and takes a seat at the piano bench. He slides over to the far side and looks at Eddie pointedly until the metal-head takes a seat beside him, "but I've only ever played for Dustin, he wanted to learn piano awhile back".

Steve takes the notebook once again and places it in front of him on the stand before shaking out his hands once.

And he plays. His voice is soft as he sings, matching the soft press of the keys, unsure of himself, how he sounds, how it all sounds.

Eddie is quiet until he's done, he's quiet even after Steve is finished.

"That's only the second time I've played it like, the whole way through," Steve mumbles as he reaches up to grab the scribbler. Eddie still hasn't said anything.

Fuck.

"Its stupid, I was just goofing around with something-"

He stops speaking at two arms wrap around him and he gets a face full of wild curls.

"Shut up Harrington, that was great, that was, fuck, you wrote that?" Eddie whispers into Steve's chest, it's muffled slightly but Steve catches every word.

He slowly raises his own arms to wrap around the other man and leans his head down to rest on Eddies, "yeah Eds," he says with a smile.

Eddie tips his head away slowly, giving Steve a chance to move his own out of the way, he holds Steve's gaze, arms still wraps around him loosely.

"You know you've got me Steve," Eddie says slowly, his brown eyes flick back and forth between Steve's own, "you're not alone, I mean".

Steve opens his mouth to agree, to nod and placate and sweep it away, under the rug again.

"And l know that just saying that doesn't mean anything," Eddie continues interrupting Steve's train of thought, "so I'll do my best to show you every damn day, if you'll let me".

It's a charged, this thing hanging between them, and Steve isn't quite sure what to do about it.

Luckily Eddie's never been one for fully thinking before doing.

He leans forward, his face so close that Steve can count his eyelashes and see the flecks of honey in his warm brown eyes. Eddie nudges Steve's nose with his own and kisses him.

Its soft, warm, Eddie tastes like pizza and weed and his lips are chapped but its perfect.

Eddie pulls away slowly, leaving himself in Steve's space, though his eyes are wide, nervous.

"Every, every day huh?" Steve manages after a beat, his heart racing in his chest, his hands itching to reach into Eddie's hair as this unamable thing between them barrels into something more.

"Yeah Stevie, and maybe I'll have to pick your brain for our next Corroden Coffen hit," Eddie whispers with a grin on his lips.

He meets Steve in the middle this time and swallows his laughs with another kiss.

#Youtube #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve plays piano #first kiss #let steve harrington have hobbies dammit #this is so soft #em beihold #groundhog day #listen #i know that the movie came out in 93 but lets just agree that it came out in 83 #all in favour say aye #stranger things season 4 #eddie lives #eddie munson is very soft in this #piano player steve harrington

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lamardeuse · 1 year ago

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20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @devirnis <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

342

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

a little over 1.8 million

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now, 9-1-1, though in the last two years I've also written Merlin, Ted Lasso, Stargate: Atlantis and Our Flag Means Death, and I've completed two OFMD vids and am working on a third.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Accept No Substitutes (Merlin) 2. What Child Is This (Merlin) 3. Best Man (Merlin) 4. Motive and Method (Hawaii Five-O) 5. Revelation (Merlin)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I might put angst in the fic itself, but I don't usually leave it in an angsty place. I suppose overall the angstiest fics ending-wise would be the Doggett/Reyes fics I wrote in X Files, probably because that was kind of the mood of the show.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I haven't really written any non-happy ending fics, and to classify one as "happiest" after 300+ stories over 20 years is pretty much impossible, sorry. Oh wait, in Defenders of the Realm (linked below) Merlin and Arthur save millions of people so I guess I'd pick that one. ;)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't gotten hate specifically; I've shown my ass once or twice over the years and been called out for it, and I've apologized and corrected where possible. And lately with 9-1-1 I've had the odd person upset about the actions of a character in a couple of my fics, but it's not that they think the actions are out of character. It almost seems as though they don't want characters to ever do things that are personally frustrating or upsetting to them even if those actions make sense for that character in that situation? It's odd, but thankfully it's been pretty rare.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep. I've written a wide variety of stuff over the years. Even straight people getting it on! :D

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Harry Potter/US Queer as Folk, anyone?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't really care if I have.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, several times! I'm always so amazed that someone took the time to do that.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, though not recently; it used to happen a lot more in the good ol' days of LiveJournal.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I couldn't even begin to pick. So many men, so little time. When I'm in the throes of fandom love, that's my favourite.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have one Merlin WIP up on AO3 that still bothers me from time to time, but I'm not sure I'll ever get back to it because I just got mired in a plot dead end and saw no way out. I also have over 10000 words of an OFMD modern AU, but again, I hit a point where I realized I had no idea how to end it so I hit the brakes at the end of act one.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I would say characterization, and making an effort to research and try my best to work the location or the culture of the characters into a story in an authentic way.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot-heavy stories are not my favourite thing - I can do it but I'd rather write basic bitch romcoms. And you're not going to get the most original shit ever from me - my writing is not gourmet cuisine, it's comfort food.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Research, and/or have a beta who speaks that language.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh god, I think it was either V or Adderly, a very Canadian show from the 80s. Those were written on high school foolscap and will never see the light of day.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Again, it's really hard to pick one after all these years. Just a few random fics I have soft spots for: Auld Lang Syne (due South), Refugee Status (Sentinel), The Road to Nevada (SGA), Defenders of the Realm (Merlin), And We'll Talk in Present Tenses (Lewis), Skin Deep (I Spy), From a Rut to a Groove (Die Hard), and too many heartbeats for one ribcage (911).

I don't tag, so anyone who wants to do this have at it!

#writing #my stuff

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thedawningofthehour · 2 years ago

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Hi, for someone who its just a beginner in writing fanfic do mind to share your process?

Oh god, I feel really bad when people ask me for advice because half the time shit just pops into my brain I had no input in really cultivating it. So when people ask me how I write dialogue-like, man, I don't know. There's a guy talking and I'm just taking down whatever they say.

Honestly, my biggest piece of advice is just to write a lot, and write whatever. Do you have a cool idea for a oneshot and you're not sure if you can pull it off? Write it anyway. You're thinking of a random scene in the middle of what should be a longer story? Cool. Write that. You think this idea is cringy and you would never want anyone else to see it? Write it and let it sit in your Google Docs. Write stuff and never publish it. Write stuff and drop it when it's no longer fun.

Seriously, I have so many Google Docs that are never seeing the light of day. Stuff that I never bothered to finish. Stuff that wouldn't make sense to anyone outside my brain. Weird horny stuff. Hundreds of hours I spent writing this shit. That wasn't wasted time because-well, for one, I had fun writing it, but I was learning what I liked, what sounded good. And don't worry about never having anything to show for it because you will in the process go "oh man, this shit slaps" with something. I've mentioned before that doth wasn't going to be publish originally. Literally every fanfic I have on AO3 started off as "I'm bored, let's get that idea that I've been thinking about while trying to sleep out of my head." Unlike all the other blurbs I've written, I wanted to return to them, hone them into something better, keep writing more. You can't force passion. It just kind of happens, and sometimes it won't happen. That's okay.

Another thing is: write badly. Seriously, your first draft is just a draft. Unless you're a professional author and it's the night before it goes to print, you can always change it. If you're sitting there thinking 'this is gonna sound so bad'? Write it anyway. Chances are it's not actually that bad. Even if it's not great, you have something to edit-you'll never have anything to make better if you never write it in the first place. And if you do come back to it the next day and realize that it's irredeemably awful-you can just delete it. Rewrite it later if you think of something better. But do not just sit around waiting to spontaneously think of the perfect execution for every scene, because it will never happen and then you'll be left with a blank document.

Oh, something I see a lot of younger, newbie fanfic writers do? Writing and posting the same day. I mean, I do it too sometimes, but generally you don't want to do that, even if you're not in the habit of going through multiple drafts. Your brain does get tired. At the very least do the final read-through on a different day. One of my teachers in high school said it was best to let a piece of writing sit for two days without even looking at it before doing the final proofread, because that's how long it takes for your brain to 'forget' what you wrote. You want to read what's actually on the screen, not what you remember writing. He was right. This is good advice for papers too, for all of you still in school.

Also, if you're planning to write fanfic in English then mad fucking props to you, I have a hard enough time speaking it half the time and it's the only language I speak and I have a fucking degree in it.

Writing is a hard thing to give advice for because everyone, and I mean everyone goes about it differently and wildly different stuff works for them. Some writers can only write first thing in the morning-I'm better at night. Some writers need to have a habit of writing X amount every day, no excuses. I can go between writing nothing and writing 4k words the next day-and those 4k dump days are typically where I do my best work. Nothing fits everyone. It's really a process of fucking around and finding out what fits you best.

Oh, and if you're struggling with anxiety or imposter syndrome? If you're too nervous to start the process, or too nervous to post? One thing that helps me is asking myself, what's the worst possible thing that could happen? Are planes going to fall out of the sky? Are you gonna die? Almost certainly not. What is likely to happen? I go through this pretty much every time I post a chapter. I think, "oh man, they've liked everything so far but this is the chapter where they Find Out and make fun of me." (find out what? I don't fucking know. anxiety isn't logical) I just think about all the other chapters I posted that I thought weren't up to snuff, where I thought people would judge me for it-no, they all liked them anyway. In some cases people even said that it was their new favorite chapter. So seriously, just push yourself over that hurdle. You will be glad you did. The most likely outcome is that some people will enjoy it, and the absolutely worst thing that could happen is that someone is mean to you. And honestly, that says more about them than you.

#not story #writing tips

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eliospeachie · 9 months ago

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⚠️ DISCLAIMER⚠️

This story is heavily inspired by the book/movie "Bones and All", I do not own the story, I just wrote from inspiration, the story of "Bones and All" or the character named Maren and Oliver is inspired by the character Lee.

3.5k words

⚠️HEAVY SPOILER WARNING FOR BONES AND ALL AHEAD⚠️

Oliver in short, was a monster. An animal.. That’s how he saw himself and that’s how he was sure the entire word would see him, if the entire world even knew. It wasn’t like he wanted to. He didn’t want this hunger inside of him, but he couldn’t ignore it or get rid of it. The longer that he ignored the hunger, the stronger it would get. He couldn’t go more than a few months before he felt as if he was starving himself. He was called an Eater. Well, that’s what the other Eaters have named themselves. And eating was what tore at his insides everytime.

But her, Maren, she made it easier to do. Easier to eat, to feed. They were both eaters. They both had the same hunger and the same thoughts about themselves, but she was at least there to comfort him about it all. She was the one who needed the comforting first, since she was getting used to the whole idea of being an Eater. It wasn’t exactly easy to grasp onto. Imagine having a hunger that could only be fed by having human meat and flesh. Yeah, not exactly something to be thrilled about. Especially considering the fact that the first Eater Maren had met had been a creepy older man, one that seemed too clingy for Maren’s taste. She said he spoke in the third person, calling himself by his own name, Sully. She said he also had a silk bag full of braided hair from the people he ate. To remember them by, she had said.

They had met when he was in a random gas station somewhere in the middle of nowhere. They had met in the aisles when he egged on a drunkard to follow him outside, seemingly for a fight. It ended differently, of course. He had managed to kill the man and tore apart his flesh using nothing but his teeth, his shirt tossed to the side so he didn’t get any blood on it. It was something he learned to do pretty quickly. That and how to use his sense of smell better. Eater’s sense of smell was stronger than Non-Eater’s. Some could even smell when someone was about to die. That’s why Maren had gone to him just as he finished eating, because she could smell that he was an Eater.

She had joined him on the endless joy ride, driving through the states, only stopping to get gas or eat, whether it was flesh or actual food. Maren had a specific destination in mind, but they also made sure to take their time, enjoy one another’s company. So when they found a place with a beautiful lake and place to park the truck for the night, they made sure to stop. They swam in the warm water, laughed, and acted like actual people. They had parked the truck in a spot that they could rest by themselves, but a company of two other eaters had joined them. Maren and Oliver didn’t want their company, but they allowed them to stay, at least for a while, so as to not get on the bad side.

“Shit, he hasn’t even had his Full Bones yet!” One of the other Eater’s named Jake said, a wheezing laugh leaving his lips.

“Full Bones?” Oliver repeated, looking at the man that went by the name Brad. He wasn’t an Eater, but he had been fascinated by them, something that Oliver had found odd. “What does that even mean?”

“When you eat the whole thing, bones and all.” The other man, the actual Eater named Jake, looked between the two of them in disbelief, as if he offended them in some way. “You ain’t done that yet?” He began to laugh with a big two toothed grin, shaking his head.. “It’s a big fucking deal! Like your first time. There’s before Bones and All and then there’s after. You won’t believe it.”

Those words had stuck with the two, bones and all. Though, neither of them had done it, even after. Maren thought that it would be impossible. Though their hunger and sense of smell was inhuman, they still were. And there was no way that they would be able to. That’s what she thought anyway. Oliver thought it was possible, just he was scared, nervous more like. He didn’t know what kind of hunger that might unlock inside of him. So, they never bothered to after that encounter. They saw no reason to try.

After a few weeks, Maren had gotten answers she needed, things she wanted to find out about her mother and what kind of person she had turned out to be. Maren’s father hadn’t been able to talk much about her mother growing up, and now she knew why. Her mother was an Eater as well, putting herself in a psych ward so she wouldn’t eat anyone else only to have eaten her own hands due to her hunger since she couldn’t get to the nurses. Oliver hadn’t gone in himself since Maren said she didn’t want him to, but she told him she tried to eat her, tried to kill her and even told her to kill herself, to die so she wouldn’t hurt anyone.

After that, Oliver managed to see his sister as they passed through the states, the only thing he really wanted to do. Both of them stayed on the road a few more weeks after that, sleeping under the stars, only eating when they really needed to, and enjoying each other’s company. But, being on the road can get tiresome after so long.

“Tell me about your father,” Maren muttered. Both of them had stopped driving, taking a stop at a field, the girl messing with the petals of the tulips that were close to them while Oliver would pluck at the grass that was under them with a cigarette hanging between his lips.

“What about him?” He croaked, taking the cigarette to blow out, snuffing it on his shoe and flicked the butt without a care into the field in front of them.

“You never talk about him. I only know what Kayla told me.”

Oliver scoffed. Of course Kayla told her. “What did she tell you?”

“That your dad was a drunk, that he would get in your face and you would try to calm him down. But one day he hit you. You two got into a fight. Your father had ripped out the phone cord from the wall so when you had your dad in a headlock you told Kayla to take her bike four miles into town to get cops. When she came back, your dad and his car was gone. You were covered in blood and the police put you in holding for three days. When they found out the blood was yours they let you go.” Oliver nodded, squinting his eyes as he looked at the hills, his hands grabbing at another blade of grass to mess with while Maren kept her eyes on him. “But there’s more to it,” she stated. “Isn’t there?”

Oliver didn’t answer at first, keeping his eyes ahead of him.They both sat in silence for a while, the boy trying to figure out his words. He didn’t sweat this stuff out like Maren did. When her father up and left her, she had been upset but it never seemed to bother her.

“When Kayla left to go into town, he went at me, trying to rip me open with his teeth. I know I smelled that first on him. He knew what I was before I did. And he didn’t help me, either.”

“He was one of us?”

Oliver sighed through his nose as he nodded, his eyes falling to the blades of grass in his hands, his nails starting to rip it apart. It hurt to know that his father was an Eater and tried to eat his own son rather than trying to hold himself back, eating someone, anyone else, and tried to help Oliver through it all. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t be here. He probably would have been in his home state still. But then again, he was with Maren.

“What happened next?”

That question, he didn’t want to answer, he wanted to throw up even thinking about it. But the person he loved was asking, so he answered, pulling every word out like they were rotten teeth. “I put him in a sleeper hold until he passed out. Then I hit him with an ashtray for extra measure just in case. Didn’t want to risk him waking up.. I managed to drag him out to his car and drove him to a place I knew, about half a mile from there, a barn that belonged to a guy who used to sell me and my buddies weed. He was away somewhere across the state so I knew no one was gonna be in there for a while. I put the car in the barn and duct taped the shit out of him. I left his nostrils open so he could breathe, but everything else I taped up tight. I did kind of a shit job but..it did it.” He’s living it all over again as he says the words. He could even see his father’s body in the shitty duct tape job he had done as if it had just happened a minute ago.

“How long was he in there for?” Her voice was almost a whisper at this point, her eyes not tearing away from his gaze while her hand rested on top of his knee.

“Three days.” Three days The exact amount of time he had been in holding. He could remember sitting in that cold cell, how he had felt panic about if the cops would have found it or not. “The way he was breathing when he heard me come back in was..He knew what was going to happen.”

“And what happened..?”

A sudden smile grew on the boy’s pale face, licking his lips. “I ate him right the fuck up.” He laughed a small breathy chuckle , Maren even doing the same before he continued. “I took off his shoes, his socks. Then I took the tape off his eyes so he could watch me. And then I ate his feet. It wasn’t pleasant but..it was kind of justifying in a way, you know? Then when I was done with his feet, I stripped the muscle off his legs. He passed out, came to, passed out again. He vomited at some point. I could smell it. Maybe he choked on it or-or died from the blood he lost.” His smile faltered, only a little before he continued. “It was great. It was like a..a kind of high. Weed couldn’t come close to it.”

Maren nodded, humming as she rested her head on his shoulder. “And what did you do with the body? Did the cops find it?”

Oliver shook his head. “I put what was left of him in the trunk and drove all the way past Memphis. I sunk his car at the bottom of a quarry down there.”

Both of the Eaters sat in silence, Oliver taking deep breaths to keep his tears inside his eyes and not let them escape. He remembered the two weeks he didn’t sleep, his mind thinking of how badly he fucked up his siter’s and mother’s life. He thought about how if it wasn’t for his sister, he probably wouldn’t have been able to make it through any of it. And now he had Maren, she would be able to ease those thoughts as well.

“Where do we go now?” Maren asked, breaking the silence after a few moments.

Oliver simply shrugged, his arm wrapping around Maren’s waist to keep her body close to his, his face nestled into her neck. “We can go anywhere. So..anywhere.”

“Let’s drive back, until the truck gives out someplace, and then we’ll just..stay. Get a place. Jobs. Like people do.”

“You want to be people? Let’s be people.”

And that’s exactly what they did. They had found someone to eat and take their life over. She was a transfer student, no one had met her yet, not even the landlord to the apartment she had moved to and apparently paid for through the semester. And an added bonus was the woman had told Oliver that her parents didn’t give two shits about her enough to call.. Maren had gotten a job at a library and Oliver had gotten a job as a thrift store associate. Maren had even been able to take the classes that the woman had signed up for and she was doing pretty well. Everything felt normal, nice. They even had plenty of places to be able to eat without being suspected.

But, of course they couldn’t live in bliss forever.

Oliver came home from work one day, carrying two plastic bags full of groceries, only to see the old man that he suspected to be the first Eater that Maren had met. Sully. He was on top of her, a knife to her neck as he said inaudible words. Maren had been still, but she was talking. She was trying to keep him calm.

He acted quick but quiet, trying to keep no attention on himself as he placed one of the bags down and emptied the other, slowly stepping closer and closer before he finally placed the bag over the man’s face, strangling and suffocating him.

“He’s got a knife,” Maren yelled.

Oliver couldn’t see exactly what happened, but he could hear Maren bark in pain. That alone was enough for him to yank the Eater’s body back before he gets the chance to stab Maren again. She was able to grab Sully’s hand with both of hers, pulling her with them as all three landed on the wooden floor with a heavy thud. The Eater yanked Maren around, trying to keep hold of his knife, but she bit savagely into his wrist and he let go with a crying yelp under the plastic. As soon as he does, she grabs it off the floor and sticks it into his belly.

The eater tried and tried to yank the girl away, causing more of a fight knowing that this might be his actual death. “Don’t stop, Maren!”

Sully tried to fend off Maren’s knife, trying to see her through the plastic as she stuck the blade into the flesh of his stomach and chest again and again, blood splattering into one of her eyes. Then she sinks it between his ribs, then again on the other side. Sully tries to get free, but he’s so weak that it’s easy for Maren to push him down and climb on top of him. Oliver bit down hard into the back of the Eater’s neck, the taste of blood filling his mouth and dripping down his chin as the elder man gagged on the pain, eyes wide on Maren through the bag. She pulls open the Eater’s shirt, revealing his leaking wounds. She had jammed two fingers into one of them and yanked it open further, enough to even make Oliver hiss at the sight. The Eater clawed one last time at the bag and this time, the plastic ripped open and he pushed his face through, like a man being born. He gasped for the air between his cries of pain, throwing his arm back to try and hit weakly at Oliver, who switched from eating his neck to latching his teeth onto his hand. Maren pulled the gaping wound open enough to begin pulling out fat. With one final cry, the Eater died.

Oliver didn’t wait for the man to be dead that much longer before throwing the arm off of his body so he had a moment to catch his breath, leaning his head back to watch Maren as she got up stumbling away. Though, his eyes caught something. A satchel next to the bed, one that belonged to the Eater that was now dead on top of Oliver. He pushed the man off with a strained groan, sitting up and shuffling to the bag, seeing a peek of a silk from the bag. He furrowed his brows in confusion before he took it out from the satchel, almost surprised at the weight. He took off the silk only to reveal a rope of different color braided hair. Oliver remembered this, the braid of hair that Maren had talked about. The Eater had took hair from every victim and added it to his sick collection to remember each one he ate. As he looked through it, he saw the end piece, a golden honey braid.

Oliver’s heart dropped in his chest,tears staining his eyes. “Kayla,” he whispered, quickly turning to face Maren. “He got Kay-” His words were cut off when he saw Maren, now on the floor, her face a sickly pale as she coughed and wheezed. “No..” The hair dropped from his hands as he ran over to Maren, looking over to find the wound that was right in the hollow of her shoulder, right under her collarbone. “Oh Christ, Maren. He hit your lung.. We’ve got to get you to an ER-”

“Am I bad?”

Gods, those words hit like a brick. Maren never wanted this life and she was the one with the most guilt between them both when it came to eating people. Maren’s mother had eaten her own hands off and put herself in a psych ward without Maren knowing before she visited her not but a few weeks ago and tried to kill her, telling Maren to die for what she was. And her father up and left her for what she was as well. Maren had only seen herself as a monster and probably would if it wasn’t for Oliver. “No, no Mare, you’re good. Alright? You’re really good..”

Maren shook her head, tears lacing her eyes while air began to bubble out of the wound. “Am I really bad? Tell me.. You can tell me.”

“Air’s coming out. I can see it.”

Maren only seemed to ignore his words, her eyes going to the rope of hair that’s on the ground not too far away from them. “It’s Kayla’s hair.. He got Kayla…”

“Don’t think about that now. We can’t take care of this ourselves. We have to go. We have to go to an ER and get you fixed up.”

“No. Oliver, Oliver... Eat.”

Oliver froze at those words, looking at the woman with wide eyes, his breathing growing rapid as panic settled in his body. How could she think about eating at a time like this? ”I don’t want it, not him. Come on..” He carefully put an arm under her waist, taking another one of her arms as he tried to pick her up. “Does this hurt?"

Maren let out a weak laugh at that, sniffling as she shook her head. “Nothing you do could ever hurt me..” She looked at him with teary eyes, placing a small kiss to his cheek. “Don’t feel bad, okay? Don’t feel anything. I want you to do it. This was always going to be it. Love me.” Oliver could barely hear those words as he tries to help her up, but Maren ends up laying on the ground, taking him with her, still looking into his eyes. “Eat.”

Then he realizes what she means. She wants him to eat her. His eyes become more glossy, shaking his head, trying to pull away, but her hands lock on the back of his neck. “No..” He shook his head, trying to move away but she won’t let him, keeping him close instead. “No.. No no, Maren, for god’s sake, let me up-”

“I want you to eat me. I want you to feed! Bones and all! I’ll just.. go, ok? Up to space. Come find me later? Ok?”

Oliver starts to be able to hear Maren’s heartbeat under her breastbone. It’s hard to know the moment his own affect begins to shift, but Oliver holds her to his chest until finally, inevitably, he bites into it. Maren doesn’t yell. She didn't scream as he burrowed into her flesh. She let him do it. The last thing she says, though the agony, is unintelligible.

He makes anguished, animal noises as he eats. Not animal because they’re too savage to be human; animal because they are emotional and vulnerable, as animals are. At what point Maren dies, he’ll never know; he can’t see her face. He doesn’t want to. Not until it’s time to eat it. She had asked him to eat her, bones and all. And he would keep that final wish. When he had seen her face, he had cried, but he didn’t stop eating.

The bones were surprisingly easy to eat and digest. And soon, all that was left of her, was the blood that stained the wooden ground and Oliver’s body.

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limetameta · 1 year ago

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For the new fanfic writers ask game:

3, 4 & 29?

3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

ooh, this ao no exorcist one i wrote way back in the day while i was still on ffnet that i'm most likely going to repurpose bits of into an og story. (has been deleted since, i think on ao3 itself you can find the first chapter just which i decided to keep for posterity sake lmao) definitely one of my favourite fics of all time - technically - absolute garbage - worldbuilding wise? so good it deserves to be its own thing. ao no exorcist was a formative influence on me lmao. fuck fmab the only reason why i haven't written 10k fics of ao no exorcist is because im writing so much og shit in that genre.

though i will say! i never actually finished ao no exorcist. i got to the point where the grigori's identities were revealed and then i just kind of quit because my at the time pretty canon compliant fic went in COMPLETELY different direction due to the manga's revelations so i quit the fic and the manga lmaooo.

4. How many WIPs do you have right now?

bitch a looootttttt

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

Here's a discarded scene from Retired Prometheus, in the Battle of Grimmauld Place arc:

There was a thing about bullies that many people wished was 100% real and accurate: that they all met their justice at some point.

This wasn’t at all true and people who thought bullies actually got their just desserts really were optimistic. Though, as this was fiction-land, the author could be very optimistic. All of this meant one thing: Sirius Black was not long for this world.

Death stretched her legs and her wings as she glanced at a watch she’d materialized out of thin air. It had a small hourglass on it with Sirius’ name. She tapped it a few times. The date did not at all correspond with the time left in the glass. ’’Did I account for daylight saving’s time?’’ These things had to be accounted for, but even if Death had accounted for that, it still wouldn’t explain why Sirius had managed to live past his mark. The only thing that could possibly explain why these people, whom she was going to finally get around to taking to the other side of the veil, were still kicking was the fact that Death was enthralled by the sight of a faux-American kicking it in Montenegro. Doing her job had slipped her mind.

Well, this Battle was the perfect time to catch up on her duties. She looked at Sirius and then the man he was duelling. Severus the infamous turncloak. His clock, too, was irregular.

Death hoped they would kill each other to save her the trouble.

#ask #retired prometheus #I AM SORRY FOR NOT GETTING TO THIS SOONER

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fruitzbat · 2 years ago

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[cracks knuckles]

writing meme: 6, 22, 43, 51, 58, 79

Because I do what I want and choices are hard.

OH SHIT OKAY

6: What’s the last line you wrote?

The glass littered the beach the way it always had – making it look like a diadem, with its multicolored beads of smooth sea-glass strewn throughout the white sand. She knew it well. Once, she had thought it beautiful. Once, she had thought all of it beautiful. Once, she had come home from her initiation voyage with Emilia in the back of her pinulu and felt her heart sing at seeing this very shore.

22: Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

It depends. I like to have a plot first before I pick a title, but sometimes they come to me and I can't resist. I like titles with multiple interpretations. Crowned Teeth, for instance, went through a couple of titles. Wine-Dark Sea I re-titled when I realized the original title I'd chosen for it (Abaddon, the Man) kind of misgendered the protagonist, so I went for its current title in reference to all of the classical motifs that show up in devilverse in general but especially this idea of tradition and what it means to people that's such a huge theme within the story.

If it's smut, though, you know that I'm using a song lyric. That's bar none the quickest way to tell the content if I post something. If the title is a song lyric, it is almost without question PWP.

43: Is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

I've always wanted to be clever enough to write a compelling mystery or thriller. But I find I'm not patient enough to craft those kinds of stories, more often than not.

51: Does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

I tend to draw a lot of inspiration from the stuff I read, so for the most part that's why all my stuff ends up being thinly veiled political allegories or historical fiction. I read a lot of non-fiction for both my own gratification and for my academic work, so I think that tends to bleed into how I approach fiction as well.

58: Do you have a favorite piece of figurative language you’ve written?

Oh, many, that float around in my head all the time; I struggle with chronic One Liner Syndrome as a result of being exposed to a critical amount of Whedonesque material at a developmental period, which I actively try to combat as a writer these days. I actually... off the top of my head, my favorite metaphorical bit I've ever written was a totally random chunk from this historical hetalia fic that I was working on for a while (baby's first longform project, the quote in question comes from the second installment that clocks in at around 80k, finished it circa 2016) where I was describing the difference between antonio (spain) and roderich (austria):

"Antonio had always admired the kind of high class, blue-blooded sort of ease that came with Roderich’s mannerisms; he had always struggled to be that effortless, carry himself with that same sort of milk-fed, housecat delicacy. But Antonio would always prowl instead of stroll and lunge instead of approach. That was just the natural order of things."

79: Do you have any writing advice you want to share?

WRITE! POETRY! EVEN IF IT'S 'BAD'! YOUR PROSE WILL IMPROVE BY LEAPS AND BOUNDS!

FANFICTION ASK MEME

#remy's asks #I love these ok please send more

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iratetourist · 2 years ago

Text

study buddy // eddie munson x reader

featuring my fave eddie gif 🥰

summary: eddie munson wasn’t much of a good study buddy, but he had other ways to make it up to you… 👅 aka eddie’s tongue is a bit of a menace

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: idk girlies i wrote it on my phone, it’s not too long

author’s note: this man got me so obsessed that i wrote a fic for the first time in nearly a decade because of him… so this shit is ROUGH (sowwy) and the concept kind of got away from me, but regardless, i had fun just writing away for a few hours!! also, if any of the formatting is off, i apologize, like i said, i’m only just getting back into this lmao

warnings: a little sauciness, nothing explicit, only lightly implied

________________

“So, of course, I was thinking that if I introduced, like, a… a dragon-blooded drow priestess, the entire idea would come together so well. I think I want her dragon lineage to be a secret, though—”

You nodded absentmindedly at your boyfriend’s random D&D musings, humming at him in response, though a small, contented smile rested on your face as you listened and flipped through the textbook on your lap. Eddie, completely enraptured within ideas for his next campaign, continued to ramble from his spot lying next to you on the floor, his own textbook having long been tossed God-knows-where and his papers scribbled with D&D notes.

“Dustin would lose his goddamn mind at the reveal, I bet, but would still probably try to recruit her even if she killed off half the party—” Eddie shot up instantaneously at that, yet another idea that had to be written down dawning upon him.

Needless to say, this studying session wasn’t exactly proving to be successful.

Sighing, you set your book to the side and just watched him for a few moments. It was difficult to be annoyed at him when he was talking about far more interesting things than anything your textbooks had to offer and was this hyped up, because frankly, it was downright adorable. Not an adjective pretty much anyone would use to describe Eddie Munson, but entirely applicable right now, in your expert opinion as his girlfriend.

He had a contagious smile plastered on his face, his dimples deeply on display… a boyish sparkle of excitement to his eyes… his curly hair splayed wildly across his face, and his hand was writing away a mile a minute as he attempted to get out every idea he had before it disappeared. Every few seconds, he would look up at you and his face would light up just that much brighter, and you could feel your heart ache all the more, and it took everything in your power not practically pounce on him.

It was the way he was so comfortable with you, so happy to have you just be with him and listen to any and all passionate rants and ravings he had, that you wanted nothing more than to just grab him and go at it right then and there—

But no! You had come here, to his trailer, with the express intent to study while spending time with him. You hadn’t gotten to see each other that much over the past few weeks, what with studying for finals, so you figured, two birds, one stone - you both could get some studying done while getting a chance to chill and catch up with each other…

…Yeah, you’re not really sure how you convinced yourself this would work.

Inevitably, Eddie Munson didn’t give much of a shit about studying when he had barely seen his girlfriend for three weeks and you both were alone in his trailer. You couldn’t exactly blame him (you weren’t feeling particularly studious yourself that late afternoon, among other things), but the fact was you promised yourself you would at least finish reviewing up to Chapter 31 of your physics textbook before you let him… uh, actively distract you too much.

And yet, you were only barely done reading through to Chapter 16, and had already been there for three and a half hours. Oops?

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you made a new promise to yourself: at least get to Chapter 20 today, that’s it. You could do that, easily - only four more chapters to go, and you knew the eighteenth was shorter than most. Perfectly attainable goal.

Then you heard a groan to your side, and opened your eyes to find Eddie stretching his arms high above his head, muscles taut and tattoos enticingly on display. Add the fact that his tongue - it was always that goddamn tongue of his - was sticking the slightest bit out past his lips, running along them, and you felt every bit of resolve you had just mustered flush out of your system in an instant, only to be replaced by an immediate surge of heat and longing. You exhaled forcibly, but couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

When he opened a single eye a second later at the sound, he gave you a long, knowing smirk and then changed his stretching position, throwing one arm across the opposite shoulder and pressing his hand to his elbow, making sure to go slow as he did so.

“See something ya like, sweetheart?”

Oh, good Christ, you didn’t know how long you could keep this up, not when he brought in the nicknames. Looking down, you saw a flash of his smooth skin, the briefest peek of toned abs, as his shirt riled up from the action, and your mind went blank yet again. Your eyes shot up to his, and you could feel your cheeks flush instantly at the cocky glimmer in his own - caught red-handed and by God was he revelling in it.

Stupid cute, annoying boyfriend… he knew exactly what he was doing and you both hated and loved him for it.

“I… I need…” You could barely swallow down your embarrassment at how breathy your voice came out. Coughing a bit, you shifted a little away from him, and then purposefully grabbed your textbook and made a show of sticking your nose in it. “I need to finish reading… um, this… yeah. At least… to Chapter 20.”

Wow, super convincing, Y/N, good job.

Eddie’s smirk only grew that much more smug at your strained tone. Oh, he liked a bit of challenge.

Crawling over to you, he leaned his head down on your lap, turning so he was looking directly up at you through the window your textbook made. “Hm…” He ran a hand up the back of your forearm, sparking goosebumps across your skin, and reached for your textbook. “I think what we both need is a bit of a break, don’tcha think?”

Despite the increasingly distracting mood, you couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. The warm sound reverberated through your body, and Eddie swallowed thickly, trying to keep his own composure - were it not for the fact that he was trying to wind you up as much as possible first, he would have hiked you over his shoulder at that and taken you to the bedroom. But… not yet, not yet.

“Tell me, Eddie Munson, how do think you’ve earned a break, considering I know for a fact you haven’t read past chapter three in that textbook of yours?” Passively, you began to play with the ends of his hair - you knew he loved that more than he was willing to admit.

Eddie put on a fake pout at that, pressing a hand to his heart. “Y/N, you wound me!” he began, running his tongue across his lower lip again. Despite your best efforts, you once again found your eyes trailing after it, and the shiver that ran through you at that was quite acutely felt by man laying beneath you, earning yet another self-satisfied smirk. Good God, you were gonna let him have it…

“I have spent the the better part of nearly four hours tirelessly working out potential ideas for our next D&D campaign, and you don’t believe that warrants a nice, long break? Well, I’ll be damned. I think I more than deserve it…” He pushed himself up at this, knocking the textbook you were very much so just staring blankly at out of the way, before nudging you to the ground, hovering atop you.

That goddamned smug grin of his grew that much more at how easily you let him do so, and the sight stoked further at the coiling sensation in your gut. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to the shell of your ear, a husky whisper leaving his mouth, “…and I think you require it.”

“Mm, you think so, do you?” Your hands came up to ghost your nails down his back, and he let out a throaty noise at the contact, causing a cheeky smile of your own to grace your features. “Well, I think what you require is just one good thing to really focus on…”

“Just say the word, sweetheart,” he breathed, turning from your ear to drag his lips across your jaw and down your neck, pressing hot kisses to the exposed flesh.

You felt a hand snake its way up your shirt, and smiled to yourself before reaching down and running a your thumb across his chin and up to his lips, pulling his face to yours. He peered up at you - eyes dark and half-lidded, tongue, as always, poking past his lips oh-so temptingly - and you knew he was utterly at your command.

“I suppose this,” you whispered, brushing your fingertips lightly across the blade of his tongue, “could be put to better use than just teasing me.”

And that was all it took before he was crushing his mouth against yours, pressing that distracting tongue of his to your quite receptive own.

The suddenness and force of the kiss caused a broken moan to leave you, and whatever cheeky resolve you had left began to succumb to the greater desire to just be close to him. Reaching up, you eagerly threaded your fingers into his long hair and gave it a quick, sharp tug, and a stuttered breath fell from Eddie’s lips.

“Fuck…” His eyes fluttered closed for a few seconds, savouring the sensation, before a wicked grin broke out on his face and he shifted himself downwards, pressing kisses down your much-too-clothed body.

Settling just before the hem of your pants, he hooked his thumbs in your belt loops, and then proceeded to flash you a look from between your legs that had your heart skipping a beat and your toes curling in anticipation.

“Don’t worry, love, this tongue has more than one way to go about teasing you…”

…And just like that, it was safe to say that you didn’t bother getting anymore studying done that particular afternoon.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things reader insert #my fics

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roscgcld · 4 years ago

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GOJO SATORU || pretty eyes [pt.2]

anime: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru

pronouns: she/her

notes: high-school! gojo x underclassman! reader

the part two of ‘pretty eyes’ is here! read part one here.

“You really do have pretty eyes, senpai.”

Gojo prides himself as a man who just ‘doesn’t do relationships’. Besides the fact that there is a line of women who were just waiting to get with him, he had never really seen what an actual functioning relationship looked like. His parents had an arranged marriage to ‘keep the Gojo clan’s genes powerful’ - his father was barely around, going about his duties to the clan whilst his mother was out and about having affairs left, right and center.

With that being said though, Gojo was a determined man. He may not know exactly what was it that draws him to a particular junior of his, but he’d be damned if he didn’t get to at least know her better. The problem? He has absolutely no clue on how to woe her.

“Remind me again exactly what am I doing here?”

It was a Friday afternoon - and classes are always let out earlier on Friday. Usually Geto would spend the free afternoon just relaxing in his dorm after a long week of classes and missions; but before Geto can evens step one foot out of the stuffy classroom, Gojo had grabbed his arm and teleported them both out of campus. That’s how he found himself in a random café that Gojo had graciously dragged them into, narrowing his eyes over at his best friend as he raised his mug of earl grey to his lips. “If this is about copying my essay-”

“How do you ask a girl out?”

“Hah?” Geto asks with an annoyed scowl, to which Gojo just made a noise before he awkward sets his clean cake fork down; the multi-layered cookies and cream cake sat untouched before him. That alone should be concerning, since Gojo is known to have a strong affinity for sweets. “How do you ask a girl out? Like, on a date.” Gojo repeated with the utmost serious expression on his face, and for a few moments Geto just blinks at him owlishly. “Satoru, how the hell have you been asking women out before this? It’s the same damn thing.”

“Asking a girl you actually like out and asking someone for a one night stand are two very different things.” Gojo stresses whilst Geto actually sets his mug down before him, the situation slowly dawning onto him. “You’re actually being serious right now.” He mutters whilst Gojo tossed him an annoyed look, clearly unamused by how little faith his friend has in him. “Well, first things first, you actually need to get to know them better first before you actually ask them.”

“Yeah, well - I’m trying to work on that.” Gojo grumbles out quietly as he picked his fork back up, digging into the corner of his cake with a soft frown whilst Geto leans back into his seat with a thoughtful look. “But I didn’t even notice her until recently.” He sighs softly to himself as he examined his forkful of cake, a slight pout tugging on his lips. “I am sure Ieiri might help. But knowing her, that means I’ll owe her another debt that she will use against me.”

Geto, for once, actually feels some form of sympathy for Gojo. Whilst he grew up in a functioning household with loving parents, Gojo was brought up in a lonely world, where he was treated like a prized position to be paraded about. So Geto wasn’t shocked at how unsure the usually overconfident Gojo is when it comes to something as trivial as dating. “Well...you can bring her out for coffee like you’re doing with me.” He offered, to which Gojo just made a face at his statement. “Sorry buddy, I don’t swing that way.”

“You little piece of shit.” Geto grunted with a light scowl as he kicked Gojo hard underneath the table, his annoyance growing at the familiar grin that was tugging at the corners of Gojo’s lips; and also the fact that his foot was stop by the Limitless that Gojo had activated before Geto can kick. “I mean an actual cute date dumbass - bring her café hopping about Tokyo or something. Or one of those pet cafes - people love pet cafes.” Geto said with a tired sigh, picking up his mug to take a slow sip from his warm liquid whilst Gojo actually pauses for a moment at Geto’s words. “Wait, that’s not that bad of an idea.”

Geto just rolled his eyes at that, taking soft sips from his mug whilst he watches as Gojo start googling about a few cafes that he can bring her about. “You’re welcome.” Geto said with a tired sigh as he sets his mug down, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks over at Gojo. “Now figure out a way to get to know her better and see if she’s even interested in your annoying ass.” He stated simply, to which Gojo just grins as he pointed the end of his fork as Geto, having eating that bite of cake whilst he typing away on his phone. “Who wouldn’t be interested in me?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

The next time he had gotten a chance to bump into her was actually by complete accident.

Like usually, he had decided to slack off instead of doing his homework; so it was no surprise to find the young shaman cooped up in the library of the school with a variety of textbooks opened around him. To be honest, Gojo wouldn’t have done this essay if it wasn’t for the fact that it had a heavy weightage on his final grade, determining if he could graduate from high school.

Even with that threat overhead, he decided to drag it out until the very last day to start writing it. Geto was just annoyed at him, since Gojo is actually really smart - yet he enjoys slacking off. It was infuriating, and since Gojo had already annoyed him enough with his entire ‘crush’ situation, Geto had just told him to go to the library before promptly closing the door in his face.

So there Gojo was, long limbs stretched out all over the place as he twirls his pen between his fingers. He had the most bored expression on his face as he tilted his head back with a sigh, his eyes blinking up at the wooden ceiling. If he was being honest, he had actually finished half of his essay - until he grew bored and wanted a distraction. He was about to get up to go and grab a snack from the vending machines when he heard a pair of soft footsteps and a quiet voice calling out to him.

“Oh, hello there, Gojo-senpai.”

Gojo widen his eyes in shock as he suddenly sat up straight, almost dropping the pen he was twirling between his fingers as he snapped his eyes up at the girl that had plagued his thoughts day and night. The same smile gracing her lips as she curiously walked towards the messy desk, casting a glance over the many opened books and the half-written essay before him. “Am I disturbing your research?”

“N-No.” Gojo said, cringing a little at how awkward he sounded - it was so unnatural and so unlike him, and he hopes that she didn’t notice it. Fortunately she hadn’t picked up on the awkwardness that he was basically radiating as she smiles and nods, gesturing to the free seat opposite from his with her free hand. “Do you mind if I take a seat there? I don’t really like studying alone in the library, it can get really quiet and boring.”

Numbly Gojo nodded, feeling a light blush coating his cheeks when he saw the grateful smile she tossed over at him casually as she made her way to the seat. He snapped out of it when he saw her pulling her own textbook from her bag, quickly shifting his mess into a neat pile so she has more space to work. She thanked him quietly with a smile, settling down in the free seat opposite from his as she started to flip through her book. He pretended to return to his work as well, but in reality he was watching her through his lashes, admiring how she can make something as simple as reading look graceful.

There was no way he was going to be able to do work now.

Closing his eyes a little, he reaches up to rub the bridge of his nose, this action causing his signature rounded sunglasses to fall down the bridge a little more. He was about to push them back when he felt a pair of eyes on him, causing him to look over the rim of his glasses over at the girl before him. When she was caught staring she just smiles at him, causing Gojo’s now calmed cheeks to flare up once more. “You really do have pretty eyes, senpai.” The girl stated simply, tilting her head a little as she casted him another smile.

And once more, the simple act of a smile caused Gojo’s breath to hitch, his eyes widening even more as he watches how she just casually looked down at her textbook once more. If only she knew just how that one sentence had basically shot-circuited his brain - rendering him useless for a few seconds. Somehow though, he managed to slowly return to his senses and start on his essay, the sound of having someone else studying with him getting him into the groove of things. Without even knowing it, he wrote the last sentence of his essay; smiling victoriously as he picked the essay up and flipped through the sheets of writing. He gave them a quick scan, reading it briefly to make sure everything looks alright before he slipped his essay back into his folder.

He had started to pack his books up when he spotted the clear look of confusion that was splashed across the face of the girl opposite from him. For some reason she reminded him of a kitten, and for a brief moment he just wanted to reach over to gently squish her cheeks in his hands. Instead he gave into his smaller temptation; gently kicking her slipper clad foot with one of his own to grab her attention. “Need some help with that?”

The younger girl gave him an embarrassed smile as she nods, rubbing the back of her head softly as she glances back at her textbook. “I wouldn’t mind...it’s just - I’ve been reading over the same chapter for a few days now, but I just don’t understand anything.” She admitted with a tired sigh as she hangs her head a little, sporting what looks to be a soft pout of frustration that caused Gojo’s heart to skip a beat at how adorable she looked. Wordlessly Gojo got up, grabbing his seat from his end of the table as he made his way towards her.

Settling down beside her, he leaned closer to scan over the page of the textbook, a memory jostling in the back of his mind at the same lesson he took back in his first year. “Oh, I remember this. I can help you if you want.”

“Really?” The younger girl said with an curious look as she glanced back at the man seated beside her, Gojo widening his eyes when he realised just how close their faces were. He can feel her soft breath against his cheek, and what smelt like mint coming from parted lips. This caused him to blush as he hid his widened eyes behind his sunglasses, wondering how the hell was she not outwardly reacting at how close their faces were. “Y-Yeah. I mean, I’ve already finished my work...I don’t mind killing some free time helping you.”

The girl gave him a grateful smile before she rubs the back of her neck gently, feeling a soft flush appearing on her cheeks that caused Gojo to stare shamelessly. “Thank you, senpai. If you need anything from me after this, don’t hesitate to ask.” She offered shyly as she glances over at Gojo, who blinked before he decided to take his opportunity. “A-Actually, there is something you can help me with.” Gojo admitted after he took a deep breath to steel his resolve, but the tone of his voice was still far too shy for how the third year.

His words caused the girl beside him to cast him a curious glance

“Would you maybe...be interested on going on a date with me?” He asks her, biting his lip a little as he stared at her from behind his sunglasses. For a brief moment the girl just blinked at him before her face suddenly blossomed in a deep shade of red, her hands coming up to slap over her warm cheeks as she stared at him with wide eyes. “M-Me?”

A shy nod was given before Gojo awkwardly glances down at his lap as well, rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hand whilst the other rested on the desk before them; anxiously tapping against the wood. “Y-Yeah.” He mumbles in a soft voice, and for a few moments there was silence that caused Gojo’s heart to beat painfully against his chest.

Screw whoever says that facing a Special Grade Curse would be terrifying - Gojo feels like he might just die from the anxiety of asking someone out for something as simple as a date.

He was about to start babbling about some random reason as to why when he heard her shy answer. “I-I mean...I wouldn’t mind going out on a date with you...”

Cue short-circuited Gojo once more.

“O-Oh.” Gojo spluttered out with wide eyes, having not expected for her to agree so readily as she gave him a shy smile, her face still dusted in a light shade of red as she nodded her. Her answer caused him to smile, biting his lip a little to stop his face from splitting open in a huge grin as he tilts his head a little. “Does 5pm tomorrow sound alright for you?” He asks her quietly, to which she grins softly and nods her head, her action causing her hair to fall over her face in perfect waves; the action causing Gojo’s already poor heart to do another flip in his chest. “We can meet up at the front of the school.”

With a final nod and another shy smile shared between the two, both of them returned to the work that hand. However there was a certain atmosphere between the two; the slightly excitement that was clearly on their faces at the idea of their date tomorrow, the light bumping of shoulders as Gojo reaches over to point at something as he explained it to the girl quietly, soft comments that leads to soft giggles and the shy glances they both share. The soft smiles on their faces sealing the scene for anyone to walk past to know that there was definitely something brewing between the two

Who knew all it took was a simple complement to land them where they are today.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x you #satory gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk satoru #satoru #satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff

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showerthoughtsonly · 3 years ago

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Fake-Proposing to Maul, Savage and Feral Headcanons

A/N: I’ve been going to an absolutely rancid case of author’s block, combined with what we affectionately call “midterm month” on my campus and then I deleted?? This draft?? Lmao.

Anyways, my sorority sister recently joke-proposed to me in a restaurant and I immediately thought “oh. This would be funny to write about”. And I wanted to switch up who I wrote for a bit~

Summary: You like to think of yourself as a risk taker. Spontaneous. Someone who likes to poke at barriers. Now, normally these things could be considered good qualities around zabrak men. But are they really all that great when it prompts you gag-propose to these zabrak men?

tags: @misogirl88 @sugarpuffsstuff

Maul

Now this can either go one of two ways

In most cases, the moment he feels you missing by his side and sees you down on one knee, he immediately power walks away, not even giving you the dignity of an opening line

Maul isn’t one to indulge such childish behavior, at least, he doesn’t want others to believe that he is

He’ll deny it if someone brings it up, but there’s the barest hint of a smile as he marches away

As you struggle to catch back up and laugh at his reaction, he will never admit to his amusement, much as you may insist

But the mere fact that he hasn’t slammed you into the nearest wall in an overt display of violence speaks for itself

And you will notice that he will be in an abnormally good mood for the rest of the day

The other situation will occur if he’s already in a somewhat good mood for the day

This time, he won’t even let you open your mouth. The moment one knee hits the ground, he’ll wave his hand and your other knee will slam into the ground involuntarily

“I see you finally decided to kneel for me, my dear.” The words escape his mouth ever so smoothly and bring an undeniable heat to your cheeks

You stutter a response, something that doesn't even register in your own ears and try to get up to no avail

After a couple of seconds of spluttering random syllables, trying to get a hold on your normally well-spoken tongue, he’ll take pity on you, hauling you back up to his side

“This was supposed to be embarrassing for you, not me.” You grumble

“How naïve of you to even entertain the idea of you embarrassing me.” Maul responds, the most infuriatingly attractive grin accompanying his words

Savage

When you first go down on one knee in the public restaurant, Savage, bless his heart, gets a little bit confused

“Are you sure you want to do this right now, little one?”

“This isn't that, dumb dumb. Now shut up and listen.”

Then you present the ring and begin your long speech about events that certainly had not occurred in your relationship (you wanted to make it more dramatic) and it began to click for him

Savage was honestly a bit flattered, he couldn’t have reasonably imagined that someone would ever feel this comfortable to do this with him

You knew he was rather taken and amused by your little performance from the little grin on his face and sly sparkle that had appeared in his eyes

But, when you had finished your long, flowery, (well-written, might you add) speech, he let the suspense sit heavily before responding

“Absolutely not. Would rather throw myself out of the airlock into hyperspace.” He said, clearly fighting back some obnoxious laughter

You shrugged with a sly, “worth a shot” and slid back into the booth as if nothing had happened

Honestly though, you had to vacate the restaurant soon after. Though the confused staring had been feeding into your energy, it became a bit much after a while

Savage looks back on the event fondly, going so far as to bring it up months later

Feral

The amount of “little shit” energy radiating from this man might actually rival your own

When you go down on one knee, the most delighted grin you have ever had to chance to see on his beautiful face appears

You barely have the chance to utter “Feral, will” before he mirrors your pose, slipping one of the rings off of his own fingers to present to you as well

He gazes into your eyes, the most sincere look he could muster as he launches into an impromptu speech

You honestly don't even bother to get up, leaving the two of you looking like absolute crackpots on the floor of a rather nice establishment

Feral finishes his speech with a “will you be an absolute darling and pay the bill for me today?” instead of the traditional “will you marry me”

You must share the same braincell, because that was borderline what you were going to ask him

After you nod a fake-tearful yes, it takes everything the both of you have to not collapse into a fit of laughter

You collapse into the booth in a fit of laughter

You were both asked to leave before you could even order food

#darth maul #maul #the clone wars #star wars #sw fics #darth maul x reader #savage x reader #feral x reader

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tooruluv · 3 years ago

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Katsuki Bakugou x F!Reader ( part 1 )

❝ ...and then there’s you. ❞

description: you and bakugou have hated each other since childhood. through the constant bickering, fighting, and actual fist fights... you had no idea that you had been writing to him.

genre: angst, soulmate au where you have a notebook that you can write to your soulmate in

word count: 3.8k

warnings/notes: strong language, lots of angst, aged up characters, bakugou being bakugou, reader has an air manipulation quirk created as part 1 of 3 for my winner of my tooruluv2kparty contest @katsulovee <33

teaser | part 2

| masterlist

“ ‘cause when the sun goes down, someone’s talking back ” - talking to the moon, bruno mars

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

The storm only escalated, casting the sky in deep blues and greys. Loud rain clattered against the roof of your apartment building, the ceiling of your top floor apartment being the only thing that separated you from the pour.

The rain may be cold, but you were on fire.

You had been livid all day, positively outraged by the man who seemed to always be in your way. He was the most arrogant, most opinionated, and most… loud-mouthed person you ever met. You were screaming from the inside out, burning with rage.

Groaning, you sprawled out on your bed.

Katsuki Bakugou was the biggest fucking issue on the planet. His absurd need to be the best at everything he did, his cold demeanor and venom that spews from his mouth -- you wanted nothing more than to punch him directly in the throat.

With a deep breath, you flipped open your Soulmate Journal.

The world was such a strange place, full of quirks and criminals and heroes and villains. To add on top of that, when you turn thirteen a journal just… appears. And whoever is your soulmate can read everything you write. Once they read it, they can reply or talk to you that way and the ink disappears. There are plenty of rules that go along with it, like if you turn thirteen before your soulmate does, the ink is red until they receive their own journal. Or how the journal itself is indestructible. Or the biggest rule: you cannot write any given name.

When you’re thirteen, your life is full of hope and wishful thinking. Almost everyone at that age is excited to start writing to their Person, the one who they were supposed to be created to be with. You were surprised when you opened yours to find nothing written.

You assumed that you were a bit older than your soulmate, but that was quickly shut down as you wrote in black ink. Your soulmate hadn’t written anything.

It took two months for him to write back. Two months of your excessive writing and nearly diary-like entries. Two months of you wondering if they would ever write back. Until he did.

Today sucked.

That was all you wrote, your past two months of writing still ever present and glaring at you with smudges and hinted annoyance. The ink started to fade like Harry talking to Tom Riddle, reappearing with new handwriting.

It was scrawled across the page with terrible handwriting, very much one of a middle school boy.

Life sucks. Deal with it.

You were now twenty two, an adult and that once hope and love has turned into pessimism and indifference. And life still sucked.

You were pretty famous, your air manipulation quirk one that catches a lot of attention. That, alongside your rivalry with the second most famous hero Bakugou, brought an abundance of recognition. Bakugou completely steals your thunder every chance he has, stealing your light and victories.

You hated him. With the utmost disrespect, you hated him. Since your days in the hero academy, the two of you were at each other’s throats. He would even stop in the middle of antagonizing Deku to make some horrendous comment towards you instead.

You ended up scribbling along the Soulmate Pages, heated rage boiling with each word.

Hey Honey! I need to vent if that’s okay.

Of course.

You would not believe the shit I have to endure in real life. I wish I could describe the hatred I have for this man I work with, he’s a real piece of shit. Anyway, how was your day?

My day was about the same as yours, living with the idiots of real life. If we could write names I would because there’s this bitch I work with that I fucking hate.

Maybe we need new jobs (insert laughing face even though I’m livid right now)

Yeah. Maybe. But we’ll get through it.

It took years for your soulmate to warm up to you. The first interactions were hesitant, slow, and barely considered conversations. But now you can discuss your day as if you were texting a friend, talk about your likes and dislikes.

He was your soulmate after all.

You learned that he was a boy and an only kid, he had a strong quirk, and that he liked ramen. He was a rule follower and his handwriting always used proper punctuation. You told him all about your life and how you wanted to travel away from everything.

You wanted to know who he was, more than anything.

You wished you could tell him your name and quirk, where you lived and who you were. You wished he could do the same.

You’ve tried, of course, to write out your name and location. But the second the words were written onto the page, they turned into a random assortment of letters. Gibberish. Never to be written, never to be known.

“Dude, fucking relax!” You rubbed your temple at your desk, voice spitting venom against Bakugou’s loud vocals. “Not everything is about you, just sit down and wait to be sent on a mission.”

“What did you say to me?”

Katsuki Bakugou had been going on and on about how Deku got assigned to a mission in upper Japan, sent to work with a separate force for a bit to expand his horizon. He was outraged, yelling and standing tall and broad to pretend to be bigger than he was.

You were doing paperwork, trying to concentrate despite his yelling and complaining and bitching. You were hovering above your seat with your legs crossed, papers scattered (it was a habit of yours, to just kind of hover a couple of inches off the surface of things; air manipulation and all that).

“I said,” You turned to look into his ablaze eyes. “Sit down and wait. Not everything is about you.”

You only threw fuel into his fire, you could hear the sparking between his fingers. You turned back to your paperwork.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, you’re not even in the top five heroes.” Bakugou barked in your direction. You could feel his heat as he approached your desk. “You can sit and do your own paperwork all you want! I need to be put on serious cases, just like stupid Deku is always placed on.”

“You can argue with me all you want.” You moved to continue your work, pretending to be unbothered. You could feel the anger boil in your chest. “But you still are and will always be measly little number two. Now shut the fuck up, you’re interrupting those who are actually working.”

He was going to hit you, you knew he was. You two ended up fist fighting all the time, oxygen and explosions ending in destruction. Before he could, your boss walked in with a bellowing, “Bakugou! Get over here, I have something for your loud ass!”

You decided to give him a bored middle finger as he walked away.

They say that words are the way of life. You could say an infinite amount of words and sentences in your lifespan, you could say a word and only ever say it one time. Each assortment of words are different each time, something new every day.

You figured that’s why you hated the soulmate thing.

Finding your soulmate should be one of chance, of pure coincidence and meeting of strangers. With the journal, you are starting something you only hope to find. You could go your whole life without finding your soulmate.

And that is terrifying.

There are horror stories of writing to an endless notebook, sad movies created where the lettering turns back to red before they’ve found each other. You wanted nothing more than to meet and just… be with the man you’ve been writing to since you were thirteen.

It seemed to be some sick joke, a tease in the palm of your hands.

When you were young, you attended UA High. It was meant to be the best school for heroes, grooming them into the best of the best. Both of your parents had been heroes themselves, your mom with a cloud quirk and your dad with wings. You took after a bit of both, no wings and no clouds but could create air currents and manipulate the air surrounding you within a certain radius. It has something to do with your breath and lungs, but you never looked too much into the actual DNA aspect.

When you arrived in the hero program, you passed the tests with ease. You tried to focus mainly on yourself and gaining your own points, alongside a couple of students with the same idea.

You were pissed when you were placed in 1-B instead of 1-A. It was the start of your rivalry with the explosion boy.

Luckily, you quickly gained friends. You actually seemed to have a soft spot for Hitoshi Shinsou, and you and Itsuka Kendou seemed to be the only two with brains (this led to many conversations resulting in shit talking and giggling). So in the end, you weren’t too upset to be placed in the second best class.

And you did get to fight with Bakugou a lot more without punishment, your professor wanting to be number one as much as anyone else.

One particular day that you remember to this day, one that really labeled your hatred for Bakuogu, was just a normal day at first. You were finished with your normal morning classes and just beginning the hero portion of the day, the training and fighting.

Your class was working with Class 1-A for the day, teaming up with one of their students and seeing how your quirks would act both against and with each other.

You were, of course, teamed with Bakugou.

The fucker was already set in his ways, loud and in need of attention at all times. You were well aware of his… loud personality… at that point, being beside Shinsou when he called your class “extras”. He was already someone you wanted nothing to do with.

“Good luck.” Kendou muttered to you when your names were announced as partners. “See ya.”

The second you headed to him, you could feel his apprehension. He wanted nothing to do with you. And you wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, you were hoping for Uraraka as your partner, wanting to see how your air manipulation would work with her gravity.

Apparently the professors wanted to see the oxygen working with the burst of flames. Which, honestly, is cool yes — but it was the person behind the explosions that you did not want to be a part of.

Bakugou was not one to mumble under his breath.

“Why am I paired with you?” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “I could at least be with someone interesting like Mind Control over there.”

You already wanted to punch him. “You’ve obviously never seen my quirk.”

“Clearly it hasn’t been interesting enough to be worth my attention.”

“Say that again when I remove the oxygen straight from your lungs.” You threatened, knowing damn well you didn’t know how to do that yet. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He let out a long exhale, moving into position. You were already flying by the time he let off his first explosion.

His utter disrespect for you and your quirk not only irritated you, but only was the start of a long term competition on Who Can Be Better Than Who that lasted the rest of your time at UA.

Through the constant loud arguments, the yelling in the cafeteria and the comments just loud enough for the other to hear, the fist fights and the swearing that was reserved only for each other, you found comfort in talking to your soulmate. It was relaxing after a long day of pure annoyance and shit talking to finally just get to have normal conversations with someone you enjoy.

Are we allowed to ask about school in this thing?

I don’t think so.

I’m sighing. Pretend that you could hear my sigh.

Wow, that was a loud sigh.

YOU’RE FUNNY! Anyway, I really want to know if we go to school together :(((

I don’t even think we can talk about JRTPD or BO::SOMD. See, they turn into gibberish.

I mean… we can say school. So we can ask ABOUT school just not… specific schools.

That’s true. I go to a special school and am the best in my class. You’re getting lucky by having me as a soulmate.

Well I would only hope so. Need a smart soulmate for fun facts.

Fun fact: you’re pretty cool. I guess.

Ah, the admission of your love for me.

Not love. I don’t hate talking to you if that does anything for you.

The one person you don’t hate. I’ll take it, Soulmate.

Don’t push it.

We should give each other nicknames. Since we can’t call each other by our real names.

Does the book allow it?

My parents did it before they found each other.

Okay. Like what?

I can call you Hot Head, because you’re hot and because you are always writing about how mad you are.

No.

I can always go with something cute like Honey.

This is gross. I was thinking like gamer tag nicknames.

Okay, Honey.

I take back what I said, asshole.

Honey and Asshole. The perfect pair. We could solve crimes!

I’m going to bed now.

Goodnight Honey ♡ I know that you aren’t reading these but you will in the morning. Dork.

“Do you know who your soulmate is?” You asked.

You were hanging out with Kendou, Monoma, and Shinsou in Kendou’s bedroom. The dorm rooms were all set up the exact same way, but for some reason Kendou’s always seemed to be bigger.

“No idea.” Monoma shrugged. “I don’t think I want to know until I’m older, we’re too young and I want to focus on graduating first.”

“He’s right.” Kendou twisted in her position on her bed. “Why? Do you want to know who yours is?”

“I want to know more than anything.” You sighed. Your head was laid across Shinsou’s lap on the floor. “We get along so well and I try to talk to him every day.”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“He told me.” You laughed. “We tried really hard to narrow it down as much as possible.”

“It sounds like he wants to know you too.” Kendou said. She giggled. “I should ask my soulmate their gender.”

“What about you, Shinsou?”

“I barely write to mine.” He shrugged, making your head tilt a little. “I’m sure they understand.”

“I’m sure they do, they were made to be yours.” You looked up at him with a smile. “Of everyone, I thought you would write the most.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because most people are scared to talk to you in real life.”

He flicked your forehead. “You aren’t scared to talk to me.”

“I’m not scared to talk to anyone.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You sighed and closed your Soulmate Journal, the rain now casting a dark shadow across the entirety of the sky. Your face was flushed in red, hair disheveled and you were still in your hero uniform, dirty and kind of burnt.

Katsuki Bakugou had not only interrupted your victory, but he had claimed it as his own. His desperation to be the number one hero hadn’t stopped. It’s been years, you’ve grown past his stupid desire and he simply… hasn’t.

You fought the villain yourself, using your quirk to it’s full capabilities and trapping them in a circle of air. You fought for over an hour by yourself, taking up the mission while out and witnessing it first hand. Your freshly bought coffee was long forgotten as you raced after the thief.

The second you landed the thief, the ball of air dissipating as you grew tired, Bakugou arrived in a fiery feat and handcuffed the villain. Of course, the main photos were of him with the handcuffs, standing proud as if he hadn’t stolen your fight.

His argument was that he did help. Yeah, he did ‒ for three seconds.

Katsuki Bakugou was a piss stain upon himself, truly the worst of the worst who’s own personal interest outweighs anything else in his life. He will never be anything but second best because he never thinks of anyone but himself.

If only he could read thoughts instead of turning his sweat to ignition. Then you wouldn’t have to put your harsh thoughts into tone.

Your Soulmate was one of two people you genuinely enjoyed talking to, he always seemed to be on the same page as you. The other is Shinsou, from your high school. He was the only one you really kept in contact with.

Sometimes you like to convince yourself that Shinsou is your soulmate, since he hasn’t found his either. But you compared the handwriting and it didn’t match at all. Shinsou’s handwriting was much smaller and neater than the man you would eventually call yours.

“This is so fucking stupid!” You screamed, your rage reaching its max.

You threw your journal across your bedroom, the storm masking the sound of it banging against the wall by your bed. You were pissed, you wanted nothing more than to see Bakugou’s downfall. It’s been years. You were over it.

You were over it all. You were over him, you were over not knowing your soulmate, you were over being alone in your stupid apartment. It all reached it’s apex. Maybe you needed a shower, or maybe you needed to move from your job.

Your fit was interrupted by a loud crash on the roof of your apartment building. You nearly jumped at the sound, the sound not even close to the crashes of thunder.

You rushed to the roof, your hero senses kicking in more than your regular carefulness. Once you were outside, you were almost instantly drenched in the rain. Only a couple of yards ahead of you was a man crumbled to the ground; they must’ve hit the roof harder than you thought.

When they turned, clutching their side, you knew instantly who it was.

“Deku?” You rushed towards him. “I thought you were in Hirosaki for some serious villain.”

He moved to stand, much taller and broad than he was back in high school. Yet still with the fluffy green hair and bright eyes with hope always seemingly sewed in.

“I was. I just… I need your help.”

“Why do you need my help?” You helped him stand fully, taking his hand from his side to check for an injury. He wasn’t bleeding. “Doesn’t Uraraka live around here?”

“I don’t… want to involve her in this.” He stood straight. His healing must’ve started. “I… this is something I need you for.”

“Okay…” You crossed your arms. “What do you need?”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Deku started, and you didn’t move. “But it’s Bakugou.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Aero, I know that you two…”

“No.”

“Please, I…”

“Deku, you know more than anyone how and who he is. Whatever it is, he can deal with it himself.” You started back towards the stairs. “I appreciate you coming to me, for whatever reason, but this is something that you have to find someone else for.”

“Don’t think of this as us doing something for him.” Deku rushed to stand in front of you. “Think of it as a favor for me. You owe me one.”

“Don’t do this now.”

“I’m officially cashing in my favor.”

You sighed, “Fine. Can you at least tell me what we need to do for the asshole?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” He nearly jumped in joy. “But you cannot tell anyone. Not Shinsou, not the police, and not our boss. This is under the radar.”

“Oh, shit.” You followed him as you flew next to him. “What are you getting me into?”

tag list: @katsulovee @paradisebabey @seaofemptygold @zhaixiaowen @daylghits @haikyuusimp91 @darknessyournewfriend @samwise-though @liaxxx109

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