#you can hear him practicing his pick up lines...within ear shot... like

[darkgifted]

love when fan art depicts astarion as a (sort of) normal guy doing normal things rather than some kind of impossibly suave chiseled coy sex god

[aspenforest732]

Mortem ad Wrens Chapter 9: It Begins in the Dark

Summary:

tw: bullying, ed behavior, body checking, feelings of worthlessness, ableism, implied child abuse, seizure mention

Notes:

‘text‘ is JSL Text is thoughts

All the first years gathered at the gates as the lights started going out, Present Mic shouting “Start!” as the gates opened. Allowing themself to be jostled by the crowd for a few seconds, Akira positioned themself to be elbowed and warped just above the ground on the other side of the gates. Feeling the drop in temperature, they jumped to the right as Todoroki skated past, soon joined by Bakugo and Yaoyorozu in the lead.

Akira settled into a jog, maintaining a solid 5th place as they watched a group of zero pointers storm up to the first barrier, as Present Mic called it. Akira charged forward, warping just as a hand would’ve crushed them and landing in a roll still within the dust cloud. Waiting for the tell-tale crackling of Todoroki’s ice, they picked up second place as Todoroki shot them a frown.

Akira just grinned and waved, dodging to the left as Bakugo easily pulled ahead with Todoroki. It wouldn’t do to stick too close anyway, the frigid air already causing their old injuries and joints to ache. They could hear Kirishima and Tetsutetsu from class B behind them as well as Sero and a familiar staticky voice.

Akira pulled up with Todoroki and Bakugo, scanning the pit with ropes and pillars for distances and weak points as the other students pulled up behind them. Akira was about to start warping when a pink-haired support course girl started showing off her inventions. Clever, I should see if she has ideas for my braces.

Shaking out of their thoughts, Akira took a running start before warping, much like in the quirk assessment the drop dispelling their clone as they landed at the closer edge of a cluster of platforms. Slipping into a familiar roof hopping rhythm, they practically glided across the pit, only falling a few places as support girl, Tsu, and Uraraka had passed them.

Right, this is where you want to be. High enough to be noticed, but not high enough to be remembered. Akira watched the first few mines go off and paused at the entrance, calculating the distance. Hitting a mine would be to their benefit since it would dispel the clone, and with a stretch, two 20-meter warps should do the trick. Shit, that means I need to just start moving and warp when three have passed.

Shaking their head, Akira lightly stepped between mines, keeping an eye on the finish line as Todoroki and Bakugo struggled neck and neck. From the back, Akira could just make out Midoriya muttering and digging but barely spared him a glance. As they reached the midway point, deftly avoiding vine girl’s attempts to throw them off balance, a massive explosion sounded from the back. With a grin, Akira deliberately stepped on a mine and accidentally warped straight into another explosion, warping again in shock and landing just behind Midoriya. Shit.

As Present Mic hyped up Midoriya, Akira started jogging again, head spinning and ears ringing from the disorientation of two warps in a row. Bakugo and Todoroki quickly overtook them to Akira’s relief, securing 4th place as they picked up pace. Vine girl finished shortly after, and Akira watched from the side for the rest of Mad Banquet to finish. Shinso placed the lowest of their group at 27th, but they could only rely so much on other’s more physically suited quirks without his capture weapon.

As the cavalry battle was announced, Akira grinned at their group. ‘With weight distribution, it probably makes the most sense for me or Raven to be the rider. Since I can warp, I can probably touch down on other teams as long as I’m not on the ground. Animal Whisper, are your birds ready?’

Koda nodded eagerly, grinning.

‘Great! Then I think our strategy can still work out. Blank, remember to let us know when you’re about to get a nosebleed, and we can shift gears with Dark Shadow on the offensive.’

Glancing around, Midoriya was the only one not making a team out of just his classmates, rather grabbing Uraraka, the pink-haired support girl, and Aoyama.

When the fifteen minutes were up, Mad Banquet had their targets picked out and settled into position, band secured around Akira’s neck. At the start, while half the teams rushed Midoriya, Mad Banquet went after 2-3 person teams, Koda calling flocks of birds to disorient them and snatch a headband.  When the birds were too scared or were ineffective, Shinso briefly activated their quirk with a variety of false triggers so other teams would hand their headbands to him. Tokoyami ran defense with Dark Shadow snapping at anyone who got a little too close. Hearing the quiet footfalls of another 4-person group, Akira shifted left, the group darting to the side as Monoma barely brushed their arm.

The blonde gasped, doubling over in pain. ‘Shit, what’s his quirk?’ Akira asked, Koda interpreting. His team looked at them, conflicted. ‘What’s his quirk?’ Akira signed more emphatically.

“Copy,” the blonde gasped.

Akira sucked in a breath, signing to the camera that he’d need medical attention. ‘Do you have a way to release a quirk? How long has it been since you ate and how many calories was it?’

“He ate an omelet this morning, and he can’t, it’s just gone after a few minutes.” The shadow kid supplied.

‘You need to see Recovery Girl immediately after this. Tell her you need Akira Mori’s emergency shake and their quirk exhaustion checkup.’

“What the hell is your quirk?” the brunette asked.

‘That’s just the drawback,’ Akira signed as Dark Shadow snatched his three headbands.

“It seems Team Monoma is having some trouble! Akira Mori’s quirk is warping, quite rare but with a quite painful drawback one of the listeners is now experiencing,” Present Mic announced over the loudspeaker.

“That is a risk anyone with a copy quirk takes when they don’t know the person they’re copying. Some drawbacks are minor while others take a lot to manage,” Eraser Head said.

As the clock ticked down, Mad Banquet kept an eye out for teams trying to steal back points, and the flock of birds took a more defensive position, forming a tornado around them.

Teams Bakugo and Todoroki were relentlessly going after Team Midoriya for the ten million points, but Team Mori had already secured a minimum of 4th place. With 30 seconds left, Dark Shadow let out a screech as they couldn’t fully block a cluster of vines heading their way that took out some of the birds. Akira warped just as the vines would’ve hit their arm, landing on top of vine girl’s head. They waited for the vines to rapidly retract and almost collide as they warped back to their team, face scrunching as some of the thorns had lodged in their shoes.

The ground softened, Mad Banquet sinking under the weight as vine girl lashed out again.

“Time’s about up! Start the countdown,” Present Mic shouted as Akira warped on top of Shoji’s arms, abruptly being thrown forward as he stopped a charge towards their group. Warping again, Akira was slightly off as their group had to dodge and lost their balance.

Just as Koda caught them, the timer sounded, ending the cavalry battle. Slumping back, Akira gave a tired smile. ‘Let’s not do that again, okay?’ They abruptly jumped up, remembering Monoma. ‘Go ahead, I want to make sure he’s okay.’

As they passed the ice walls Todoroki made, they caught sight of Kaminari seizing again and waved a medic bot over. Turning on Todoroki, Akira raised their hands to start signing only to see the look of absolute horror and disgust on Todoroki’s face as he looked at his left arm. Later, need to check on Monoma they thought. Akira caught Todoroki’s eyes and signed ‘Talk later,’ hoping he got the gist.

Ducking into Recovery Girl’s tent, Akira saw Monoma looking much thinner than he did while they were fighting. ‘Did they say what happened?’ As Recovery Girl shook her head, Akira quickly signed what the boy needed.

“How the hell are you alive right now?” Monoma spat. “That was the worst passive drawback I’ve felt.”

‘Do you know JSL? Nurse can interpret then. My quirk is fueled by my metabolism, that’s why it felt like you were burning alive from the inside. If I have enough fat reserves, it just burns that instead of muscle, but if your quirk lasted much longer without you eating, the muscle atrophy would be a lot worse.’

“Why are you telling me this?”

‘If you’d asked, I would’ve warned you. Normally, I carry snacks on me for emergency boosts, but the festival wouldn’t allow them outside the rest areas. Speaking of which, I need to go refuel. Just, be careful whose quirk you copy.’

On their way back, they paused at Midoriya and Todoroki’s voices coming from the student and faculty entrance. Acknowledging Bakugo with a nod, they listened with growing frustration as Todoroki talked about his parents. Biting back their anger at the flame hero, Akira stalked into the cafeteria, glad to see Mad Banquet already there.

‘Blank, what would Eraser do if he found out one of his students was being abused by a pro hero?’ Akira seethed.

The group startled and Shinso slowly replied, “He’d beat the crap out of the hero and build a case against them. Why?”

‘Good to know,’ Akira signed and sat down to eat as the others stared. ‘And if they’re one of the Top 10?’

“He’d probably have to build a case before he could beat them up,” Shinso said slowly. “You going to explain?”

‘Not right now.’

“Are you in danger?” Tokoyami asked.

‘Not actively, no,’ Akira signed distractedly. ‘Oh, this isn’t about me.’

Mad Banquet stared at them for a long moment before exchanging glances and returning to their food. “Are you going to participate in the Recreational Games?” Tokoyami asked, pushing around his food.

‘No, I don’t want to overextend myself. Animal Whisper, it’d be a great way to show off your animal reconnaissance, especially with the scavenger hunt.’

“Hey, why don’t you save some food for the rest of us.” Akira tensed as some of the Gen Ed students walked past, echoing the sentiment of a brunette girl. “Wouldn’t want one of the precious ‘hero’ students to end up like Fat Gum.”

Akira bristled even as their food tasted like ash, ‘Fat Gum is one of the best-’

“Aw, it can’t even talk properly. What, you need-” the girl screeched as Dark Shadow rounded on her.

“The Mad Banquet protect our own. Bother one of us again, and we won’t hold the dark spirits back,” Tokoyami growled.

“Come on, Togeiki, they’re not worth it.”

“Yeah, let the freaks wallow on their own.”

Akira stared at their food a moment, appetite gone as they couldn’t help but think about the kids at base. Were they taking too much food? Other kids like Uraraka definitely needed more, and they actually had potential.

“-ri. Akira!” Dark Shadow chirped in their lap, and Akira realized they had zoned out and started rubbing their arm.

‘Sorry, thanks.’ Akira started petting Dark Shadow, grateful for the distraction. With some gentle prodding from the others, Akira finished the rest of their food as the group lapsed into silence. Maybe I should bring it up to Inui.

Notes:

Akira: already juggling c-ptsd, anxiety, chronic pain, homelessness, and villain attacks Me: eating disorder! Akira: …why

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[tf2-dead]

sorry if youve already done this one but the mercs reaction to a confession? of course under the guise that they already liked y/n

A/N: THIS IS REALLY CUTE OMG. Also I realised after I had finished writing that I might have gone slightly off topic on some of them..? If so I apologize, it’s been a while lmao

Masterlist

//it maybe gets a smidge angsty in Spy’s one

———————————————————

How the mercs react to a confession

Scout

The poor guy, he can barely speak he’s so flustered

The second you tell him you like him too he almost faints he’s so overwhelmed with emotion

He is absolutely ecstatic though, and try as he might no pick up lines and cocky quips will be able to hide his burning face and sweaty palms, he feels like a love struck school boy all over again

He does eventually drop the suave guy act and tries to speak his genuine thoughts and feelings for once

Deep down he really does have low self esteem, so just hearing the affirmation that someone as amazing as you loves him for who he is is almost too much to handle

Goes in for a really tight, genuine hug, not a kiss though, he’s a bit too nervous for that at the moment-

Soldier

Okay. So there’s two ways this could go.

1. He will get on his knees and propose to you right there and then because death waits for no one and he wants you now

Or 2. He will go out of his way to find some ears, you know what for-

Either way, as soon as you confess, he will try his damndest to show you how much he loves you as well

He does everything in extremes so he will most definitely grab your hand and spin you into a big ol’ smooch

Will yell to everyone within ear shot that you’re now a couple

Although, as crazy as this lead poisoned idiot may be, he can’t deny the butterflies and warmth that bloom inside of him when you confess

Pyro

ASJSJKWWENBSMSNSNWN 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

By far the most wholesome

They are absolutely enthralled by your presence anyway, so having you confess that you like them too, omg they’re so incredibly happy

Lots and lots of kisses through the mask and many hugs on top of that

Will almost immediately go out and start making all kinds of cute things for you - their personal favourites are the matching couple sweaters that they knitted for you

Will write love letters to you that are basically unintelligible, but the onslaught of glitter coated doodles help get the message across

Demo

He will most likely end up confessing first in one of his many drunken stupors

But on the occasion that he doesn’t and you are the first to admit your feelings,, he honestly thinks he’s either hallucinating due to the alcohol or you’re pranking him

You? Liking him?? Romantically????

Like Scout he’s very flustered, but is slightly better at holding it together without bursting into tears

Very soft for you, he’s basically putty in your hands if you go to hold him

Will definitely want to just cuddle up with you afterwards and confess all of the feelings he has been keeping bottled up inside

Will probably brag to a few people about it-

Heavy

Funnily enough, I think Heavy would actually get quite flustered by a confession

He would definitely stumble on his words a lot more whilst his face is growing an increasing shade of pink

Although apart from that, he is very mature about it

He will take your hands in his and tells you every loving thought he has ever had about you

He also loves hugs so expect a big one, he will only give a kiss if you’re comfortable - your comfort and happiness is now his main priority

He might take you out for dinner that night and will arrange for you to meet his family as soon as he can

Engie

Try as he might, he will never not be a blushing fool when it comes to you, so hearing you confess your feelings for him makes his knees weak

Has to practically lean against his workbench because the red hot blush on his face is making him dizzy

He’s never had a very active love life so this is all fairly new to him

Probably won’t be able to formulate a proper sentence aside from a few coughs and thank yous

Don’t take it personally though, he’s just trying to figure out if this is actually happening and not a dream

Will actually collapse if you go to kiss him

Sniper

Will have they softest smile on his face the whole time omg

He’s very cute, he’ll have a pinkish tint to his cheeks and will end up pulling his hat over his eyes to hide it

He most likely will end up silently pulling you into an embrace, he can’t find the right words to express how happy he is, but you can feel it with how tightly he’s holding you

He’s never felt like he’s fit in due to his rough childhood, but right this second, he feels completely at home

Very touch starved, so expect a lot of physical affection when you’re alone from here on out

Medic

Very bluntly asks if you’re insane

I mean, have you met him???? My guy made a deal with the literal devil and yet your angelic ass is saying you’re in love with him what-

After several inquiries about your current mental stability later, he will find somewhere private and properly sits down with you, expressing that he indeed feels the same

Acts very calm and collected in front of you, maybe a tad of awkward blushing at most, but will be a squealing mess when he goes back to his operating theatre that night

Absolutely brags to Archimedes about everything, maybe asks Spy’s head for advice about gifts and dates

Overall, he’s a lovesick (ha get it) fool at heart

Spy

He is absolutely dumbfounded, maybe even more concerned than Medic

I mean, don’t get me wrong, he is screaming with happiness internally, but like, why him?

As much of a ladies’ man as he is, he feels as if it would almost be cruel to accept your confession, he doesn’t want to keep you locked in a relationship with someone as damaged as him

Will express his concern but after you wholeheartedly assure him that you love him for who he is, he honestly feels a little choked up

He will pull you into a hug and thank you in a shaky. barely audible voice

He’s just very soft under his rigid exterior

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 13

Sorry this chapter took so long homies 

Hannibal invites Will and y/n to dinner to discuss his proposition. 

Trigger warnings: self-degradation

Edit: fuck me I forgot the tag list sorry @deadman-inc-bikeshop @dovahdokren and @viviace 

The more you thought about Hannibal's proposition, the more it appealed to you. You simply needed to act on it before your inhibitions returned. 

Luckily, Hannibal gave you the opportunity to do just that. He invited both you and Will to dinner that night. 

The scene was just beautiful, just as you'd pictured the sommelier's house to look. Candles and fresh flowers decorated the table and soft orchestral music filled the air. Hannibal placed himself at the head of the table with you and Will on either side. Equidistant and within arm's reach.

Two objects of his affection, ready for the taking.

"Steak au Poivre with garlic butter prosciutto wrapped asparagus." Hannibal introduced the meal as if it were a fourth guest. "Enjoy, my loves."

"More importantly," Will looked at you, knowing you had the same question on your mind. "What are we drinking tonight?"

He reached across the table and grabbed a decanter full of dark red wine.

"An excellent question." He said, pouring a bit in each of your glasses. "We will be drinking Armore Di Valpolicella from 2013."

"That's a.." Will racked his brain. "Dry, full bodied red with a predominant tart cherry flavor."

He looked at you as if to ask if he was right, and you giggled. He'd been practicing his wine vocabulary, if not for you than for both you and Hannibal.

"Well done." You praised. "Except the part about the flavor."

Will furrowed his brow. "Is it not cherry?"

"Well," you picked up your glass by the stem. "It might be. But you have to, y'know, taste it first."

You began to swirl the liquid in the glass, letting the scents grace your nose. Will followed your lead.

After getting a good whiff, you brought the glass to your ear. "Hear the wine."

Will looked confused. "What?"

You swirled the glass close to your ear. "You can hear the ocean closest to the vineyard where this wine was made."

Will reluctantly positioned the glass near his ear, causing you to lose your air of seriousness and bust out laughing.

"Okay." Will rolled his eyes and placed the glass back on the table. "Very funny."

"I'm sorry." You said over laughs. "Let's just taste it."

Will smiled awkwardly and brought the glass to his lips. You did the same. This wine was lovely, dark and deep with a chocolatey finish.

Will turned to Hannibal with his empty glass in hand. "I'm not sure what that taste is, but I like it."

"Is it to your liking, [F/N]?" Hannibal asked.

You dropped your shoulders. "It's delicious."

"As you likely know, I've propositioned each of you separately." He said, filling each of your glasses. "I expect to end this night with one of you under each arm."

"For the record." You piped up. "I'm absolutely cool with that."

"Good girl." Hannibal praised. His gaze turned to Will. “Are you amenable?”

Will looked at Hannibal, then at you. You silently begged him to say yes. He was acutely aware that all eyes were on him and he had to make a choice. 

"I suppose I could be, given the right circumstances." Will leaned back in his chair. “You’ll just have to do a better job convincing me.” 

“And I intend to do just that.” Hannibal took his seat at the head of the table. “[F/N], would you come here, please?” 

You stood up from your seat, making sure to smooth the wrinkles from your dress. Hannibal produced a flat gift box secured with a ribbon from the inside of his coat and handed it to you. 

“Welcome home, darling.” He said with a warm smile. 

Your eyes widened. “Is this jewelry?” 

“Open it and find out.” He urged. 

You untied the ribbon and flipped the box open on its hinge. A pair of fancy little black gloves stared back at you. 

“They’re suede, with a cashmere lining.” Hannibal explained as you lifted them from the box. “Perfect for delicate, scarred skin.” 

When you realized what he meant, your mouth hung open in delight. “Are these for my-” 

“Yes, love.” He interrupted. He took your bandaged hand and began to gently unwrap it. “You can say goodbye to these nasty bandages.” 

You leaned over and pressed your lips against his cheek. "Thank you, Dr. Lecter."

"Sweet girl, call me Hannibal." He insisted, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. "I'd like to get used to the sound of my name on your lips."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Thank you, Hannibal."

"That's a pretty cheap move, Dr. Lecter," Will taunted. "It's almost insulting that you think I can be lured in with gifts."

“My darling must learn to expect only the finest out of life.” Hannibal said, slinking a hand around your waist and smiling smugly at Will. “Not that you would be interested in that.” 

You pulled the gloves onto your hands and held them out to him. "They're really soft, Will."

Will humored you and took your hands in his. "They are very soft."

"Don't rub it in, [F/N]," Hannibal instructed. "He's already told us he's not interested."

You returned to your seat and tucked the gloves back into the box. You sunk your fork into the tender filet and cut off a piece. “Come on, Will. Don’t make me beg.” 

Will smothered a laugh. “That would be beneath you, [F/N].” 

You raised your eyebrows and pointed your fork in his direction. “You underestimate how pathetic I really am.” 

“Now we’ll have none of that, understood?” Hannibal scolded you. “You’re not pathetic.”

You shot Hannibal a disarming smile. “I was just joking.”

Hannibal’s serious expression didn’t falter. 

“I’m going to have to agree with him on this one.” Will cut in, seemingly without thinking. “Even if it’s a joke, those kinds of words can leave a lot of damage, especially when you say them enough.” 

Hannibal looked lovingly at Will. “That’s right.” 

Will went quiet for a second. He seemed to have a whole conversation with Hannibal through a series of glances. 

Will leaned over and placed his hand over yours. “That’s our lover you’re insulting, after all.”

[mcyt-imagines]

hello! i am here to request a tommyinnit x reader! where the reader is a smaller streamer who accidentally befriends tommy while having no idea who he is??? they only find out when they see him streaming one day and lose their fucking marbles over how many people are watching him, and proceed to blow up his phone like??? hello what the fuck???? also, they/them pronouns please!

I love this request, mainly because I can totally see Tommy doing this to someone. Befriending them and just accidentally forgetting about his online popularity just to laugh as they freak out over it. I’ve used they/them pronouns as per requested as well, hope you enjoy! :D

Hidden In Plain Sight

You were worried you weren’t going to actually make any friends in your new classes, moving to a whole new school partway through the year wasn’t exactly common practice. So, you had braced yourself for the worst, mentally prepared to eat your lunch alone in the bathrooms even if it was gross, it was better than being eyeballed by your new peers. Approaching the common area with your food now in hand, you felt your stomach start to sink deeper and deeper, yet you kept up your pace determined to not look as downtrodden as you felt.

“Hey, new girl!” You turned quickly, giving yourself a bad case of whiplash that the boy who had called your name definitely noticed. “Uh, yeah?” You raised a singular eyebrow at him, the empty seats around him beckoning you closer. “Nice twitch patch. You stream?” He asked, gesturing to the small purple and white patch you had badly sewn onto your backpack. 

You stood dumbly ahead of him, your food held tightly in your hands. “Uh, yeah. I do, I only started a few months ago though.” You grow sheepish wondering if admitting to that could just lead to you getting bullied quicker. The boy’s face suddenly lights up, “Me too! I’ve been streaming for a few years now though.” He boasts a little, obviously taking pride in his hobby. You nod along, “Cool.” A few moments of silence pass, “Are you gonna sit or what?”

The smile that graces your face leaves Tommy a little stunned, “Oh! Thanks.” You quickly sit, shoulders relaxing almost instantly. “I-It’s nothing, I’m Tommy by the way.” He holds out his hand, you warmly shake it giving him your own name with a soft blush. Partly from the embarrassment of your pointlessly spiralling thoughts and partly from how cute this boy next to you is. Tommy happily carries the conversation, cheeks a soft pink as you watch him with intrigue and interest drinking in his words with an attentiveness he wasn’t used to. Tommy listens eagerly when he asks you about your twitch channel, you shyly tell him a little about it.

You give him your channel name and he follows you, you follow back instantly Tommy speaking through the exchange partly to distract you from his profile. It works and you close the app without a second glance, happily listening to the rest of Tommy’s story without a care in the world. Tommy feels relief rush through him, he didn’t want to overwhelm you and he knew that his popularity was likely to have an impact on your friendship. He didn’t want that. He wanted someone to want to get to know him because they found him interesting not because of his following and the ‘clout’ they may receive from being his friend. You didn’t seem like the type to do that but he knew better than to assume, he’d learnt that lesson a few too many times before.

“You normally sit alone?” You breach the subject with little tact, knowing that surely, he’s a popular guy. He’s loud, extroverted and funny, there’s no way he was as much of a social outcast to be forced to sit alone. He sighs loudly, huffing air through his nose. “No! But my lame-o friends decided to join clubs this year and they meet during lunch for extra club time.” He grumbles, arms now gesturing widely around him as he articulates exaggeratedly. “But I know that they’re really just trying to suck up to the girls in the drama club.” He makes a loud gagging noise.

“So, I stay out here and study, that way I have more time to stream when I get home,” Tommy explains with a soft shrug, motioning to his binder nearby, notes scribbled in an illegible chicken scratch. “I might have to start doing that, the workload here is so much more than at my old school.” You groan, gesturing to your own binder chock-a-block with notes, textbooks and spiralled notebooks.

That’s when the two of you hear a distant ringing of bells, “Where’re you headed? I can lead you there, this place is a maze sometimes.” Tommy offers the smile soft on his face. You pull at your folder and point to your next class, “Uh, it’s-“ You begin, only for Tommy to exclaim. “We have the same class! C’mon, Miss will beat our asses if we’re late!” “Miss who!?” You look at him quizzically as Tommy quickly stands grabbing his things and motioning for you to follow. When you stand slowly and grab your things Tommy grabs your wrist, “She might excuse you for being late, but I’ve been late one too many times dude, you don’t even know.” His pace is faster than yours but his hold on your wrist is firm, forcing you to keep up with him.

Days of chatting and befriending Tommy turns to weeks and soon it’s been a few months. You had been happily keeping to yourself mid-stream, your regular viewers making light conversation with you through chat. “Oh woah, we got a raid!” You cry watching your chat, “Aw it’s from Tommy! Hey big man, thanks for the raid of- HOLY SHIT! 300,000!?” Your eyes grow to the size of saucers as you reread the notification several times before finally looking into your webcam looking like a deer in headlights. “U-Uh welcome guys! If you’re planning on sticking around please be polite in chat!” You try your best to gain control over your racing mind, heart beating rapidly against your chest.

A large number of Tommy’s viewers leave, but you try your best to entertain those that stay for another hour or so before you end stream with a significantly larger number of subs than what you started with. Your speed dialling Tommy’s number is unrivalled as you lay back in your chair, eyeing your stream set up across from you. He picks up, “Hey-“ You cut him off immediately.

“Um, so when were you going to tell me you’re some big twitch hot shot!? Or was I just supposed to find that one out for myself champ?” You hold back the urge to screech down the phone line as he laughs at you. “Hey! It just slipped my mind, okay!? A big man’s gotta lotta big things on his mind at the one time!” He cries out in futile defence, knowing you had every right to be at least a little bit furious at him for keeping this a secret.

“Wasn’t the raid fun though!?” He squawks after a couple of moments of silence, “It was… fun, but it was also the most stressed I think I’ve ever been Tommy. That’s a lot of people to just throw at someone.” You huff a little, “Sorry, I uh, I didn’t really think before doing it. I was just super excited to send them over to you, I just knew they would love you as much as I do.” He mumbles the last part of his sentence, but you hear it just fine. “Aw, I love you too Tommy.” A smile finds it’s way onto your face, “I can’t believe I’m actually considering forgiving you.” You throw a hand over your eyes, groaning. “Would a midnight trip to get some fast food accelerate the forgiveness process?”

You hum for a few moments, “Are you trying to bribe me, Tommy?” The blond stammers adorably before huffing, “Uhhh, no?” He offers, “Oh well if that’s the case, then yes.” You grin as his screeches of laughter reach your ears, your own laughter joining his within moments. “Talk later big man, got a midnight meal to plan for.” Tommy groans, “Oh no! You’re gonna spend all my money!” You scoff, “I’m sorry mister millionaire! You’re my walking talking money bags now, get used to it!” You giggle along with Tommy’s chuckles, his voice relaxed. Tommy knew his assumption was right, even on the first day he met you. He knew you were a good person, a good person for him. There’s no one he would rather spend his time and money on.

~Requests are currently open!~

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes  x fem!reader - Chapter Five

chapter four - Chapter Five: Come A Little Closer - chapter six

Series Masterlist

Plot: As the hunt continues for Dr. Nagal and the super serum, Y/n learns the ugly side of being a superhero while also finding herself drawing closer to Bucky.

Warnings: spoilers for episode.3, angst, fluff, language, description of injuries, unwanted touching, blood, character death (minor), anxiety, *cue Start of Something New from High School Musical playing in the background*, idiots in their feelings getting interrupted a lot, dancing Bucky. did I mention feelings?

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: So this is semi rushed because I didn’t have as much time to work on it as I typically do but hopefully it still holds up. I’m currently in a stupor right now after today’s episode and trying to plan out where the rest of this goes, exciting and nerve wracking lol. 

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Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party and stay out of trouble. Those were Sharon’s instructions. Not only did she know how to throw a party but the Madripoorians knew how to enjoy themselves. The pomp and circumstance didn’t match New Orleans by a long shot, but they sure as hell threw themselves into it.

Sharon was in charge of asking around to see if anyone had any information on Wilfred Nagal while we were stationed at the bar. After Sharon’s talk, I was nursing a glass of whiskey trying to blur the various scenarios she’d put in my head. Each step we’d taken so far had landed us somewhere more dangerous. Within days we’d gone from an impromptu fight with Super Soldiers to breaking Zemo out of prison to a shootout in the streets of Madripoor. The deeper we got, the higher the risk. I’d never thought of Sam’s job as easy, but I could have never understood how difficult it was until I was doing it with him.

I looked over to Sam, Bucky and Zemo who were doing the exact opposite of what Sharon had told us to do. They couldn’t have looked more out of place. They looked like a bar joke; a superhero, a 100 year old assassin and an escaped Sokovian convict walk into a bar…

“Have any of you ever stepped foot in a club?” I asked, leaned up against the side of the bar. The three of them looked lost, causing me to roll my eyes, “Dance, drink, do something!” 

“Excuse me,” a masculine voice that didn’t belong to anyone in our group said from behind me, I turned and faced his presence, “It’s a crime that someone as beautiful as you hasn’t been out on that dance floor tonight. Care to join me?” Was it a cheesy line? Extremely so. But blending in meant blending in. “Why not?” I downed the last of my whiskey and allowed him to take my hand and lead me into the middle of the action.

The center of the room was packed body to body, filled with people innocent moving to the house music to those grinding against one another in the most sinful of ways. The handsome stranger put his hands on my waist, I placed mine loosely around his neck and we began to dance. There was enough space between us that it wasn’t uncomfortable and I found myself actually enjoying myself. But the longer the song went on, the more the guy’s hands started to wander. It started with a few circles in my hips that I wasn’t a fan of to rubbing up and down my sides, when they trailed around my back and down to my ass was when I wriggled out of his grip. “C’mon sweetheart,” he shouted over the music, “It’s a party, lighten up.” I was fully prepared to tell him exactly what I thought of men like him when a gloved hand grabbed his shoulder roughly, I looked to my side to see the body belonged to Bucky. “You’re done, pal.” The creep was inches shorter than Bucky and couldn’t match his intimidating steely stare. He put up no fight and simply backed away in fear, bumping into a few people on his way out of the main room. Bucky moved in front of me to act as some type of shield in case he was stupid enough to come back, “Are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine,” I assured him, “You didn’t have to come over, I can handle myself, y’know.” “I know you’ve got no problem telling people off,” he smirked, “But I couldn’t help myself. That kind of stuff doesn’t set well with me.” “Well, thank you,” I said, “But you’ve made one fatal mistake, Barnes.” His brows knitted together in confusion as I smiled, “You’re out on the dance floor with me.” I watched as he connected the dots, “No, no, no…” “Yes, yes, yes,” I contested, lightly tugging on his non-metal arm as he started to walk away, “You need to blend in and there could be another handsy creep nearby, so consider it a public service.” His 1940’s origins wouldn’t allow him to leave a woman by herself in a potentially uncomfortable situation, this much I knew. With a heavy sigh that I could practically hear over the loud music, he met my eyes. “I don’t know how to dance to this, it doesn’t even sound like music to me.” I rolled my eyes, “If only you had someone to teach you…Give me your hands,” he offered me his flesh one, “Both of them.”

He defeatedly put out his gloved metal hand and I took hold of them both, carefully placing them on my hips. They hesitantly held onto me as if maybe I didn’t want him touching me despite the fact that I initiated it. I watched him to make sure he was okay with me positioning us, his eyes stayed glued to where his fingers rested. Not wanting to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was, I settled my hands on his broad shoulders. Receiving no arguments from him, I continued moving us. We looked too much like middle schoolers in the middle of a gymnasium with all the space between us. I took a step towards him to shorten the distance, still watching him to make sure he was okay with what I was doing.

“Don’t focus on perfect steps,” I called over the noise, “Just try and feel the beat.” I took a step to the side, pulling Bucky along with me clunkily. His eyes were locked on the floor watching our feet as I began to alternate steps to the beat. I placed a finger under his chin and brought his line of vision up to meet mine, “Stop thinking so much.” I picked up the rhythm again and began to sway my hips a little with each movement I made, trying to take my own advice. Bucky looked like he didn’t know what to do, this was so far from any type of dancing he’d ever taken part in. But the more he felt me loosen up, the more his body started to feel less rigid. Where I’d been guiding us, Bucky met me and took the reins and started to move us. The heat I felt from his hands through our mutual layers of fabric sent tingles up my sides. We’d unconsciously moved closer to each other, our chests brushing with each movement. I peeked up at Bucky through my eyelashes under the pretense of making sure he was still comfortable, but I lost myself once I got there. His normally bright blue eyes had darkened significantly as he looked down on me. It felt like a shot of adrenaline straight down my spine while simultaneously making my knees weaken. I dared to slide my hands down from their resting position on his shoulders to his thickened biceps, giving me something to hold onto. It set off a chain reaction of his hands still lightly holding onto my waist to tighten, putting my body fully in his control. He started to guide my hips in figure eights, his heated gaze flicking between the motions and my eyes. With a shockingly little amount of hesitation, I snaked my arms to wrap around his neck pulling us what a few days ago would have been defined as too close. Now as I drowned in his blackened, dilated orbs and felt each breath he took against me, it didn’t feel nearly close enough. I found myself craving as much of him as I could get. Something had taken over both of us and I didn’t want it to loosen its hold.

“Hey,” Sharon’s voice flooded my ear from behind, “I found our guy, let’s go.” As soon as I felt her leave to go fetch the others, Bucky and I ceased our movements. Our chests pressed into one another as we panted, his pouty lips parted with each breath he drew. I swallowed harshly as I struggled not to notice how tempting they looked, trying to focus on anything else. The shine of a light layer of sweat down his neck, the sharpness of the jawline I suspected I could cut myself on, the scent of his cologne enveloping me, the pressure of his thumbs pressed into my hipbones, the way his dilated pupils sent a wave of heat through me…Bucky was all I could see or feel and I didn’t want it to end.

“W-we should…We should go,” I stumbled over myself, still unable to look away.

“Yeah,” he answered, breaking our stare only for a second to look down at my lips. I had to force myself to unwrap my arms from his neck, he immediately followed and let go of my waist. I wanted to grab his long, slender fingers and slide them back in place, but stopped the urge in its tracks. Now was the time to get to work, no matter how inconvenient of a time it had come at.

——

In the early hours of the morning, after Sharon had gotten everyone out of her gallery, we departed for the shipping yard Nagal was supposedly at. Awkward wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how Bucky and I were acting around each other. We’d barely said two words to one another, averting our eyes anytime they met. Something had happened out on that dance floor and we were both determined to ignore it.

“Madripoor could give New York a run for its money,” Sam commented as we walked between shipping containers.

“They know how to party,” Zemo responded, he’d spent plenty of his evening out on the dance floor demonstrating his off-beat moves.

“With that bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor, the less likely you’re ever leaving,” Sharon said as she guided us, using the coordinates she had on her phone. I followed her, relieved to have a little extra feminine energy around. “All right,” she stopped in front of a unit, “He’s in there. Container four-two-six-one. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagal but hurry, we’re on borrowed time.” We each took an earpiece she offered.

“I’m coming with you,” I said, immediately turning on my heel to block my brother’s argument, “I’m of better use out here if there are any problems. Let me do my job, Sam.” 

He took a deep breath and blinked, silently conceding to me. “Just stay safe,” he urged.

Inevitably, I met Bucky’s eyes that were already trained on me. He didn’t need to voice any of his concerns, they were all etched on his face. “I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to reassure both men that I could handle myself. I broke from the group to head off with Sharon, falling in step with her. 

“Hey, Sharon, you sure this is the right one? It’s completely empty,” Sam’s voice came through our comms. “Positive, it has to be,” she answered as we hurried through the yard, “How good are you and those hands in combat?” “Energy blasts, force fields, levitation,” we turned a corner and ducked behind a container, “Tell me what you need.” She threw a hand out to stop me from going any further, pressing a finger to her lips after. She peeked out from behind the unit and quickly hid again, “Guys, we’ve got company.” “What do we do?” I whispered.

Sharon raised the hood of one of her jackets and looked around us, spotting and grabbing a small metal pipe. “We buy them some time.” I nodded firmly, creating a ball of energy with my hands and waiting for her signal. When she darted out, I followed and we stealthily snuck up on the three bounty hunters nearby. Sharon began brutally attacking them with the pipe while I focused on throwing a blast at one of them, he fell to the ground unconscious. The two that Sharon had been taking on kept getting up after her beatings, I levitated one of them and threw him against a container.

“Every bounty hunter in the city is here, we gotta go!” she said into the comms, turning to me after, “Watch yourself, these people fight dirty.” As soon as the words had left her lips, another hunter appeared. He came towards us with  large knife, trying to tackle Sharon and forgoing me. I used my energy to shove him backwards, giving Sharon time to form a plan of attack. She ran towards him as he rose and twisted his arm, body slamming him to the ground and wrenching the knife out of his hand. She didn’t waste time in stabbing him in the back, quickly throwing the bloodied knife at another approaching hunter who was now trying to pull the weapon out of his forearm. Sharon kicked him into a container just as burly arms wrapped around me, pinning my arms at my sides. I kicked and flailed as he lifted me off the ground before moving to slam me facedown, I created a force field just in time and the two of us bounced off it and landed on his back. The second his grip loosened, I levitated out of it and landed on top of one of the shipping units. With an outstretched palm, I raised the wriggling man to my level and threw him across the ship yard. Below me, Sharon had a struggling hunter trapped between her legs and was choking him. I watched the man wheeze as he desperately tried to get her off of him and regain air. When his flailing began to cease, I was unable to watch the life drain from him and turned away.

A bullet flew past my head and I dropped to my belly, spotting a bounty hunter below firing a machine gun aimed where I’d been standing. When Sharon jumped out and kicked him in the back, his attention turned to her and he slammed her back against a shipping container. She pulled the barrel of his gun up and he fired a round in the sky as she held him off. She grabbed a knife stuck out of the waist of his pants and stabbed him, using his body as a shield as another hunter fired at her. I created a force field around her, allowing her to get safely behind a container to plan her next move. Pulling out the knife again, she nodded at me and dropped the corpse as I dropped my energy. She stabbed the guy lurking around the corner of the container before firing a fatal shot. I watched one last hunter come around to where she had just been standing, waiting for her to come around. I raised him in the air and flicked my fingers towards him, the gun dropping from his hands before I slammed him into another unit. After sweeping the area to make sure nobody was left, I floated down to where Sharon stood trying to catch her breath.

“We gotta go,” she panted as we ran back in the direction of the shipping container that held Nagal.

We weaved through the unit quickly, landing in the doctor’s hidden lab. “Guys, we’re seriously outta time here,” Sharon announced.

The sudden sound of a gunshot made us all jump, Sam and Sharon running to apprehend Zemo who had just fatally wounded Nagal. “What did you do?” Sharon trembled.

Bucky reached out to grab my arm and pulled me behind him, shielding me from any further attack. Just as my hand had nervously sought out his forearm, a sudden explosion threw us backwards. We harshly hit the floor, a symphony of groans escaping us all. Bucky and I had gotten separated as we’d flown and I blindly reached around for him, for Sam, anybody. “Anybody see Zemo?” Sam’s voice came through my ear.

I rose to my knees and started pushing myself up, my body screaming at me to stop. Bucky raised me up the rest of the way before pulling Sam and Sharon to their feet as well. We’d barely gotten our footing when a second explosion hit, this time from the chemicals in the lab rather than an attack. Luckily, we had gotten out before we’d been injured further. I stood behind Sharon, my head on a swivel trying to find the culprits of the ambush. “All right!” Bucky yelled, “Wait for my signal!” He hadn’t even finished speaking when Sam started shooting towards a pack of bounty hunters and taking off on his own. “Damn it!” Bucky came out from around the corner of the smoking unit and started firing at the men while Sharon and I ran around to the back where Sam was. “Can you create a force field?” Sharon shouted at me over the gunfire. “If I do, whatever bullets we fire will stay in it with us,” I shouted back at her, ducking below the barricade we now had for ourselves and next to Sam. The three of us crouched down and I began shooting out balls of energy towards each incoming bullet, deflecting each one away from us.

“And you like living here?” Sam yelled at Sharon.

“It’s not terrible!” she replied, popping up and down behind the fallen piece of metal giving us protection.

Bucky came down from his position to join us, “I thought we were gonna go left!” “You went the wrong way!” Sam stopped firing to berate him. “I was clearing the way!” Bucky argued. “Really? Right now?” I yelled.

“I came out first, you were supposed to follow me!” “And where are we now?!” “Guys, not the time!” Sharon attempted to quell their petty argument, dropping behind the barricade when her gun was out of bullets. I tuned the fighting out as I worked on redirecting the bullets. The blue energy streamed from my hands, my reflexes quick and my mind never more focused. One hunter loaded his machine gun and aimed it at me, as soon as the ammo started flying I used my energy to shove them back his way before levitating him and slamming him into a shipping unit. It was only for the split second he was suspended in the air after the hit that I caught the sight of the bullets lodged in his chest and his head cracked open from the power of my hit. He limply fell to the ground, his eyes still open yet cold and hollow.

I had killed a man.

The shock took over my body and I quickly absorbed the energy back into my body immediately. I stood there unprotected as I stared at his corpse, ripe with life a moment ago and now devoid of anything. If it hadn’t been for Sam shoving me down behind our barricade, I would have stupidly continued to leave myself exposed in horror of what I’d just done. 

Another explosion kept us down, we hesitantly peeked over the shards of metal to see a fight breaking out. While the mask was new, I knew the coat belonged to Zemo, who was now taking out bounty hunters left and right. Through the flames I could see him shove, flip, shoot and punch. He looked back at us as if to signal that he’d cleared the way to escape. The four of us took the chance and made our way out of the wreckage, sprinting through the maze of shipping containers. 

“Buck!” Sam yelled, opening the nearest unit’s door and using it as a shield while Sharon and I leapt in, avoiding the gunfire. He pulled Bucky in shortly after and closed the door, the attacker having been dealt with.

The container was dark, the only light seeping in from a few cracks in the corners. When a hand grabbed my arm, I shrieked in terror and readied my energy “Hey, hey, it’s just me,” Sam hurriedly announced his presence, “Are you okay?” Was I okay? I had just ended someone’s life, I was the furthest thing from okay. But to reassure him that physically I was fine, I hummed my answer, there were too many words swirling in my brain to say anything more.

We waited a few more minutes until there was no noise and nobody had come for us. Bucky used his super strength to punch the metal doors open, the sound of screeching tires greeting us as a vintage model drove up in front of us.

“Supercharged,” Zemo smiled from the driver’s seat.

“You’re going back to jail,” Sam said.

Zemo sighed, exhausted with Sam’s fixation on placing him back where he belonged, “Do you want to find Karli or not?”

“He’s right, we need him,” Bucky opened the passenger’s side door and climbed into the vehicle, “And there’s two of us and at least twenty of them. Come on.” “Wait, when did it become twenty?” I asked, not yet approaching the car.

“We’ll fill you in on the way,” Bucky answered. “Fine,” Sam begrudgingly agreed, “But if you try that shit again-“ “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Zemo said, somewhat unconvincingly but beggars couldn’t be choosers when it came to help and we were beggars. “Well, that was one hell of a reunion,” Sharon shut the door to Sam’s side.

“Come back to the States with us,” Sam offered.

“I told you, I can’t,” Sharon declined, the sadness I sensed in her making a flash of an appearance, “Just get me that pardon you promised me and,” she turned to smile at me, “Keep her alive, I like her.” I put a hand on her shoulder, still a little breathless from the fight. “You do the same.” 

With that, Sharon walked off into the ship yard while Sam said a quick thanks. I walked around to the other side of the car, ignoring Sam and Bucky’s back and forth as I climbed in and sunk into the seat. Even though we were safe from immediate danger, my heart was still racing and I could feel its beat pounding in my ears. I shut my eyes and held my head in my hand as we drove off, the image of the bullet stricken bounty hunter laying motionless on the ground at the forefront of my mind.

——

On the plane, everybody had retired to their separate corners and tasks. Zemo was fixing food in the kitchenette, Sam was on the phone with Torres, Bucky was cleaning his vibranium hand and I was curled up in one of the chairs with unshed tears flooding my eyes. I had never ever wanted to hurt anybody with my powers and in the heat of battle, I had used them to murder someone. I had taken a life and there was no coming back from that. Some innocent part of me that had remained through the trauma I’d seen in my life had been stripped away and I wasn’t going to have it returned. The moment played and played and played in my head, I didn’t think I would ever forget the sight…

I had been blocking out Sam and Bucky’s conversation until I heard the shield come up, or as they were referring to it, the hunk of metal.

“Maybe I made a mistake,” Sam said. “You did,” Bucky immediately agreed.

“Yeah, maybe I shouldn’t have put it in a museum. Maybe I should’ve destroyed it.”

Bucky paused before answering, “Look, that shield represents a lotta things to a lotta people, including me. The world is upside down, and we need a new Cap, and it ain’t gonna be Walker. So before you destroy it, I’m gonna take it from him myself.” The tears I was trying so hard to withhold unavoidably fell to my cheeks, I was overwhelmed. Anxiety began to fill my body as the day’s events flashed across the inside of my eyelids. It was too much. Too much.

“Y/n,” Sam’s voice across the aisle punctured the bubble of my mind, “You okay?”

“I don’t care,” I whispered, my palm digging into my forehead. “What?” 

“I don’t care,” I exclaimed, leaping out of my seat and turning to face Bucky and Sam, “About the shield, about Walker, about whatever happened on that phone call, about anything. I killed someone today, I actually ended somebody’s life and now we’re just sitting around like nothing happened. I don’t understand how you guys can be so relaxed about any of this when a few hours ago, we were landing bullets in people’s chests!” 

Sam and Bucky, to their credit, were silent as I blew up on them. When I’d finished with more tears down my face than I’d started with and a strained voice, I hurriedly made my way down the aisle and to the bathroom, locking myself in and the world out. My back slid against the nearest wall and my body sank to the floor, I finally allowed myself to sob my sorrow out.

——

Sam and Bucky sat in stunned silence after Y/n had left, only daring to consider speaking when they heard her muffled cries from the jet’s bathroom. Sam’s phone rang, it was Torres calling with information about Donya Madani most likely. He looked over to Bucky, “Someone’s gotta talk to her,” he stated, care and concern laced in his tone, “You and I both know what it feels like to make that first kill.”

Bucky sighed loudly, he knew exactly what Y/n was feeling and wanted to help her, but he wasn’t sure how he could do that. He could barely make it through a therapy session without feeling like he wanted to jump out the window, especially when Raynor started bringing up his dark past. But on the other side of the door was a woman he cared about for reasons he didn’t fully understand and she was hurting, and that was enough motivation for him to get up from his seat and rise to the occasion.

He raised his fist to knock, hovering over the door for a second before he made contact with it. “Hey,” he said, his voice raised so she could hear him, “You wanna let me in?” The silence that followed let him know that wasn’t going to happen.

With his concern growing, he grasped the metal door knob with his metal hand and twisted it till the lock broke and the knob detached. Zemo could take it up with him later, all Bucky could focus on in that moment was Y/n and the river of tears flowing steadily down her face stemming from her puffy, bloodshot eyes. 

——

I took my hands off my eyes when I heard the creaking of metal, looking up to see Bucky holding the now broken doorknob in his hand and watching him discard it on the floor. He entered the room slowly, approaching me with just as much caution and shutting the door as much as he could. The bathroom was small but he still managed to find enough room to slide down next to me, our bodies packed tightly against one another.

We rested in the heavy silence for a moment before Bucky spoke up. “I get it.” When I didn’t respond, he continued. “But he was gonna kill you and if it were my choice, I’d have saved you too.” “Yeah, I know, it was self defense but, Bucky,” I paused to look at him through my tears that were holding firm, “I still killed someone. Bad guy, good guy, it doesn’t matter. He was somebody’s son o-or husband.” “He was a low life, Y/n, and you probably saved a lot more people than you think,” Bucky said, beginning to fiddle with his thumbs like I’d watched him do frequently. “Stop trying to make me feel better about this,” I muttered, sniffling and wiping the wetter side of my face, “You were trained for this kind of thing, you volunteered for the war and knew you’d have to make these kinda calls. I promised myself a long time ago that if I ever revealed my powers, I would only use them for good. Because that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. But after today…” I trailed off and looked down at my lap, resting my forehead against my knees, “I don’t know how to look myself in the mirror.”

The only sound filling the room was the sounds of my trembling breaths and Bucky’s steady ones. I knew he was only trying to help, but I wasn’t sure if there was anything he could say to make me feel better. “You helped save our asses today,” Bucky eventually said, his rough voice low in his chest, “If you don’t want to think about having saved your own life, think about protecting me and Sharon and Sam. Today could’ve gone south real quick and part of the reason it didn’t is because of you. This kind of stuff…it’s not easy. But it gets a little easier knowing that you’re doing the hard stuff to save good people.” I leaned back as he spoke and rested my head against the wall, watching his lips move and try to ease my conscious.  It didn’t help, but it didn’t not help. When joining Sam, I hadn’t thought about the possibility that I would have to make split second calls like the ones I made today. My naivety was my own fault. I knew that the person I’d killed today would have slaughtered  any one of us without a second thought and Bucky was right, I probably saved one of us from dying by deflecting the bullets. The deed would weigh heavily on my mind for a long time, but maybe listening to Bucky was the first step in making peace with it.

I wiped underneath my eyes until they were as dry as they could get, “Thanks, for trying at least.” Bucky sadly smiled, watching me collect myself with a deep breath and a sniffle. “Are you okay?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t crossing any lines but needing an answer, “After the whole scene in the bar?” His demeanor changed quickly, his softened features hardening and his body going stiff once again. He cleared his throat awkwardly and mumbled an ‘I’m fine’ before rising to his feet. I stood up fast enough for the blood to rush to my head but couldn’t find it in me to care. “Bucky,” I said, reaching out to wrap a hand around his vibranium wrist, “Stop.” He listened and robotically turned to face me without actually looking at me. I knew that I could never come close to understanding how traumatic acting as his past alter ego could have been, but I was determined not to let him stew in his feelings longer than necessary. Words may not have been enough in the moment, but any other option was just as risky. Maybe a little risk was what the situation called for. 

I let go of his wrist, my hands awkwardly held in the space between our chests before I surged forward to capture him in a hug. His body only tensed further as I pressed myself against him, his hands at his sides unknowing of what to do. No matter how bad I sensed it was going, I continued nonetheless. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my face close enough to his ear for it to create goosebumps on his neck. 

Internally I told myself to let go, I was probably making him feel wildly uncomfortable. The second I loosened my grip, his flesh arm shot out and wrapped around my waist. With a small smile, I sunk back into the embrace and let myself be enveloped by Bucky once again. His scent invaded me, a mixture of the sweat of battle and whatever cologne had remained on his body from earlier. The attractive scruff he wore brushed the side of my face, sending electric sensations through me. The arm that firmly held him to me made me feel protected, it was the first time on our journey that I’d felt well and truly safe. Bucky shifted so that his cheek was now against the back of my head, pressed into my hair. The act struck a different type of feeling in me than when we’d danced, it didn’t hold the intensity and heat. This was warm and pure, like light itself. Surrounded by him and feeling his warmth radiating through me, I was convinced that I was experiencing a glimpse of heaven.

I couldn’t tell who broke apart first but Bucky’s arm wasn’t yet ready to leave my waist. My hands lost their place around his neck and were forced to slide down to his firm chest. I looked down at their placement, trying not to think too much about what lay underneath.

“You’re not nearly as bad as you think you are,” Bucky said quietly, sparing me a small smirk.

“Neither are you,” I smiled, soaking in the rare softness that we’d been given and wondering why my pulse quickened the second our eyes met. 

A sudden knock on the door startled both of us. “Hey, Torres got intel on Madani, you guys gotta hear it.” Sam’s voice carried through.

Bucky and I instantly separated at the sound of my brother’s voice, him awkwardly putting his hands on his hips and me shoving mine in the pockets of my jacket. Whatever feeling had been in the air dissolved at the remembrance that there were so many other important matters on the other side of the door demanding our attention. Bucky pushed the slightly ajar door open and moved aside to let me out first. 

“What’d you get from Torres?” I asked, pausing outside the bathroom and leaning against the wall. I could feel the heat radiating off Bucky’s body as he stood behind me.

“Madani died yesterday,” Sam answered, reclined in his seat looking stressed, “In Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea. Zemo,” he gestured to the Baron, lounging in his seat, “He’s got a place for us to stay there.”

“Latvia,” I sighed, looking over my shoulder to glance at Bucky, “Here we come.”

——

A few short hours later, the plane’s cabin lights were dimmed and each piece of the foursome was asleep in their seats, except for one.

Bucky sat awake, switching between staring at the ceiling and Y/n’s sleeping form. She had curled up in the chair across from him and went to sleep surprisingly fast. He envied her, his thoughts were going to keep him up all night.

Once he’d gotten both feet on the ground after the Blip, losing Steve and starting his new life on his own, Bucky had recognized that he didn’t want to be alone. He still had the same dream as he had in the ’40’s; to meet a nice girl, settle down and raise some kids. Now in modern times, everything was so much more complicated than it had been then. He’d tried online dating, failing miserably and finding the whole process unnatural. He had humored Yori and gone on a date with Leah, a waitress at their favorite sushi place, the conversation turning too dark for him to handle. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to meet the mythical One when every avenue left him confused or overwhelmed by the dirty deeds of his past.

Until she came along.

Y/n came into his life unapologetically and in the last minute he would have ever thought he’d meet someone. She had dazzled him from the start, despite his initial annoyance, and had kept him on his toes since their first meeting in the hanger. She held the same level of strength when she was telling him off in the therapy session as she had revealing her broken past. She was the only person in a long time that had been able to make him smile, genuinely smile. Not the kind his therapist told him to flash during his three step process for making amends. Bucky was jaded and cynical about the world around him, but she brought him something that looked a whole lot like happiness. But the biggest and loudest quality of hers was that she cared. She cared for everyone around her, even those that didn’t deserve it. He’d been nothing but snarky to her on their first day together and she’d still rushed to save him when she’d heard he was in trouble. She was making sure that he was alright every chance possible, not because she thought he would slip back into his old programming, but because she simply didn’t want him to suffer. All of it led up to the moment in the bathroom where she had pointed out that he had volunteered for WW2. To anyone else it wouldn’t have mattered why she chose that example, but it was everything to Bucky.

She had chosen to bring up his history as a soldier, not the soldier.

That was the moment where Bucky realized he was falling for her. It finally made sense to him why when he’d held her on the dance floor his skin felt like it was on fire, why he hadn’t wanted to let her go, why her safety had become one of his top priorities. Rather than have something to fight, he now had something to protect.

But Bucky couldn’t forget to fear in her eyes when he’d sought them out in the Madripoor bar. When he had his metal hand wrapped around the neck of the Winter Soldier’s latest “victim.” He didn’t blame her, she’d be insane not to be afraid of him. Yet she was still there for him, trying to help him through his trauma that she was knowledgable on. The thought both hurt and warmed his heart. 

As he watched her sleep, light snores coming from her lips every once in a while and her feet tucked so tightly below her legs he didn’t see how she could be comfortable, he smiled. Even unconscious she could make him smile. Y/n was a new sensation he was still getting used to but damn it all, he loved it and wished they had met under different circumstances. He could have asked her to dinner, brought her flowers, strolled through the city with her…Bucky finally felt relaxed enough to shut his eyes, drifting away and dreaming of the woman who had wormed her way into his heart.

—— We touched down in Riga in the early morning and headed for Zemo’s hideout he had in the city. Even if we were here under unfortunate circumstances, I still tried to take in as much of the city as I could. When was the next time a girl from NOLA was going to have to opportunity to be in Latvia? The four of us strolled down the sidewalk, Zemo talking more to Sam about the remnants of Sokovia than Bucky and I. We hadn’t spoken much since our conversation in the bathroom but he had made an effort to ask me if I was okay after I’d woken up. I wasn’t sure what I was but I knew that when Bucky was around, I felt a little better. 

“I’m gonna go for a walk,” he announced as we approached the stoop of Zemo’s place.

“You good?” Sam asked, only seconds before I could get the same words out.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, already backing away from the group, “I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

I watched him walk back down the sidewalk, fighting the overwhelming urge to follow him and wondering if there was something to it. He may have been a super soldier, but I could still protect him. If there was anything I’d learned about Bucky in the short time I’d known him was that he didn’t have any qualms about running headfirst into a fight. Bucky was also a terrible liar. Those facts were what made me worry the further I watched him head down the road.

When had this happened? When did this man I’d know only a few days become someone I cared so deeply about? Why were all my thoughts beginning to orbit around Bucky? Since the first time we’d actually sat and talked, when I’d opened up to him about my powers and my father, I’d felt something for him. Something that had only started to increase the more time we spent around each other. On the dance floor in Madripoor had been another significant incident, one that had been harder to recover from without acknowledging that there had been some sort of spark. The moment I realized I wanted as much of Bucky as I could get was in the bathroom the night before, when he’d held me in his arms until he was forced to let go. When he’d felt like an oasis in the middle of the nightmare we were in. For all his faults and demons, the man he was rang louder than anything else and had captured my heart in a matter of days.

Shit.

I had fallen for Bucky Barnes without even realizing it.

“Y/n,” Sam interrupted my thoughts, “You coming?”

His beckoning couldn’t have come at a worse moment, as I’d just broken through the barriers my mind had built. “Yeah,” I mumbled, forcing myself to turn away from keeping a watchful eye of Bucky’s departing figure. As it had been with any moment regarding the Super Soldier and I, the world always found a way to remind us there were more important matters at hand.

----

A/N: OH, we’re really in it now...Hope everybody enjoyed, feel free to let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged! 

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale​ @wanniiieeee​ @asoftie4bucky​ @edencherries​ @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ @ttalisa​ @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess​ @rinaispunk​ @weirdowithnobeardo​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @godlypotterwhodiaries @eternalharry​ @voguesir​ @mizz-kraziii​ @okayline​ @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories​ @nicklet94 @intricate-melody​ @aesthethickks​ @stumbleonmywords​ @simplybarnes​ @21bruhs​ @lostinwonderland314​ @superbookishhufflepuff​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ @zozebo​ @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998​ @sarai-ibn-la-ahad​ @i-know-i-can​ @x-judyjude-x​

[crystalirises]

FundXD au thrid part? Maybe the final confrontation between Dreamxd and George? imagine George offering to take Fundy's place, but XD teases him because he obviously only loves Fundy now (before Mumza saves the day!! or whatever you had planned if you already had something in mind).

Not me accidentally posting it separately. But anyway, here's the third part! I'm sorry it took so long, hope you enjoy this.

But yeah anyway, please do take heed of the trigger warnings. This is probably now what I consider the darkest and the most uncomfortable one-shot I've written. Like in terms of themes, yeah I am just: oh wow I wrote this huh...

So yes, please do heed the warnings and do not read it if any of the the warnings make you uncomfortable.

TW: Forced Relationships, Forced Kissing, Forced Marriage, Possessive Behavior, Captivity, Implied Harm, and A Lot of Dark Implications

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886223/chapters/84740365

“A radiant day for a wedding, do you not think so, my fox?” If only the mattress could swallow him whole. He buried his face on the silken sheets, pressing the pillow to the top of his head, wondering if he could suffocate himself if he tried really hard enough. “Beloved? You’re quiet.”

He rolled his eyes, holding back the urge to scream.

After a moment, he felt the twist of vines against his ankle, gently pulling him away from underneath the covers. Fundy let himself be dragged, having learned the hard way that clawing at the bed to keep himself from getting dragged was a bad idea. He shuddered at the bad memory.

“My darling star, don’t you agree that today is a splendid day for our wedding?”

No, he did not agree. There was no day where he’d ever even consider marrying the god.

“I don’t feel well. Can we move the wedding?”

“Do not lie.” The room turned colder, the chill of ice piercing through his skin that he nearly buckled underneath the pain. Then in just a second, the cold was gone. He was still in his their bedroom, the sunshine filtering in through the glass-stained windows, bathing the room in a kaleidoscope of color. XD was holding him by the elbow, their spherical head never faltering in its cheery smile, if one can call it a smile. The god pulled him into their embrace, holding him with such warmth that Fundy wanted to cry. They shouldn’t be so comforting. “You are well.”

“Ya…” Fundy felt like throwing up, “...well…”

For a god who had lived as long as the world, XD was not as patient as Fundy had hoped. It had only been a week, but the god had given up on Fundy’s flimsy excuses. Fundy had used every excuse that he knew: headaches, fevers, coughs, even “fainting” that one time XD had actually gotten him to stand on the altar. They had grown tired of waiting. Fundy turned his head towards one corner of the room, their wedding outfits only seemed to mock him. He shivered within the god’s hot touch, XD didn’t seem to notice his discomfort, but they noticed the way he was staring at those, arguably, beautiful outfits. XD led him towards them, holding him by the arms.

“I could change your suit if you wish, anything for you, my fox.” Fundy paled, refusing to look at the suit now that it was in front of him. It was in a beautiful hue of orange pastel, decorated with a pastel green flower pinned to its chest. XD had chosen to wear a dress for the wedding, and if Fundy wasn’t being held there against his will, he might have even blushed at the thought of the god in a dress… walking down the aisle. It was a mostly white dress which faded into a pastel green in the middle and into a forest green at the bottom. “You could wear a dress if yo—”

“No.” Fundy already loathed the suit, he wouldn’t know what he’d do if he had to wear a dress. At least XD didn’t mind, though - and Fundy knew it was stupid to feel - he found it somewhat adorable that XD wanted to wear a dress. The wedding dress suited them, even if Fundy didn’t want to marry them. The god hummed behind him, a low sound that had no lyrical or musical tone to it whatsoever, before picking him up. He shrieked, holding tightly to the god’s shoulders.

“My dear fox, the wedding will be divine, it shall take place the hour between day and night.” Fundy had a few hours of freedom. Then… He clenched his hands, angered that he no longer had his claws to tear into the god’s skin. “The wedding venue has not changed from the last time we tried to marry, but, sweet fox, would you wish for any new changes? What do you wish for?”

His only wish was to go home.

The god leaned down and Fundy knew what was to come. He closed his eyes, letting the god do what they wanted. Maybe he should have heeded his papa’s advice. Maybe he shouldn’t have befriended the god who seemed too kind to be true. Maybe he should have stayed at home and lived a normal life instead of searching for… he didn’t even know anymore. But he knew he missed his home, he missed his dads. He missed the normal life in their little cabin in the fields.

Once the god leaned away from the kiss, Fundy let out a sigh. “I want cake.”

---

“Wil, I love you, but now is the time for your ritualistic shenanigans.”

George tapped his foot on the muddy ground, placing his head in his hands as Wilbur ignored him for the tenth time. Wilbur had refused to say what his secret was, in favor of showing what his secret was. If George had known that said secret would involve Wilbur drawing intricate symbols in the mud, George would have gone deeper into the forest on his own instead.

After a few more seconds of agonizing silence and waiting, Wilbur finally stepped back, gesturing for George to come near him. He raised a brow, choosing to stand beside Wilbur despite the nagging voice in his head telling him to leave and go look for their son. George took in the symbol that Wilbur had drawn. He’d traced a circle in the mud, and within the complex lines, George could make out five symbols. The lines merged to showcase a woman. In her right hand, she held a blade. In her left, there were musical notes and discs emerging from her palm.

At the bottom of the symbol, the lines converged to create a pair of angel wings.

“Wil, is now the time to show me that you can draw—” He cut himself off once Wilbur started to chant under his breath. He stepped back, doubt racing through his mind. George had never been interested in magic, being more talented in redstone and engineering, but he feared those who excelled in the practice. Magic meant gods, and gods meant double-edged deals. “Wilbur…”

The symbol began to glow a light gray hue, the smell of metal and death tainting the air. His fear doubled, but he didn’t try to run off. Nervous as he was, he trusted Wilbur, his dear husband.

A splash of cold landed on his cheek, he brushed it away, but then a downpour of rain began to fall around them. The ground turned muddier, nearly grasping onto their legs. George looked up, furrowing his brows at the sight of sunlight. It was raining despite the warm sun rays that were filtering in through the trees. The intricate symbol wasn’t affected by the sudden storm, its glow intensifying underneath the torrent of water. George didn’t know why, but he felt sick. A sickness that wasn’t nausea, it was worse. Like someone had taken a sharp pickaxe and started to chip away at his heart. He held a hand to his chest, grasping for Wilbur’s arm with the other.

Wilbur’s chanting had grown louder despite the rain, almost like he was fighting against the noise. The light gray glow had taken over the entire drawing, the lines scorched away by its brilliance. Then the world began to shake, and for a moment, George could hear screaming.

He slipped once the earth started to sink. Wilbur pulled him up just as the ground gave way, the symbol had caved in, going deeper and deeper until he could see bright red. He shuddered, but Wilbur held him close. He had half a mind to throw his husband an irritated glare. If his husband would stop with the theatrics for a moment and actually tell George what his secret was, then maybe he wouldn’t be second-guessing everything that's happening right now. He glanced back down at the hole. Wilbur had just opened a gateway to the underworld. Despite the red lights of the underworld, the chasm let out a chilling cold that seeped deep into George’s skin and soul.

“You’re a hellspawn, is that the secret? If so, it was not much of a secret I already knew that, Mr. Soot.” Wilbur rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss to George’s cheek. Once Wil had left George on stable ground, he watched as his husband walked close to the chasm. Wilbur reached down a hand. George wondered if Wilbur was asking to get kidnapped. “Wilbur, the dead can’t help us.”

“You’re correct. Zombies are pretty shit at… everything. Skeletons… perhaps.”

George took a breath through clenched teeth. He knew Wilbur was worried about Fundy too, but he couldn’t afford to waste anymore time with Wilbur and his shenanigans. XD had taken their son, a wish god had taken their son and George knew the god would refuse to let Fundy go.

“Wilbur, please. We need to find Fundy. XD would do anything they could to keep our son from ever leaving them, we have to go.” He pleaded, but Wilbur was too busy looking into the chasm.

George loudly sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. The rain continued to pour around them, and if he didn’t hurry, he’d lose his way down the forest path due to the mud that was beginning to drown everything in its path. He turned to leave, but then a voice broke through the silence.

“A sunshower…? Did you forget to tell your own mum that you're getting married, Wilbur?”

---

Fundy flitted about the room, pressing his hands against his ears as the rain continued to pour outside. He didn’t know why XD had thought it would be romantic to marry one another while a storm threatened to destroy the land, but the constant tapping of the rain on the ground was beginning to grate on his ears. Despite the heavy rain, he hated the warm sunlight even more.

Why couldn’t the weather just be either gloomy or happy? It was a mockery of his life.

He glanced down at his suit, fixing the green flower so it wouldn’t fall off by accident. He didn’t know what XD would do if anything were to ruin their “special day.” He huffed, pressing his head against the glass window. He could see the neverending forest from there. XD had insisted that they live on one of the highest trees in the forest. They wanted to give Fundy a good view.

When XD had first shown him their abode, Fundy had been ecstatic to see the entire forest. He collapsed on a nearby chair, putting his head in his hands. Now everything felt like a big joke.

It was so wonderful before, but he saw through the roses, and now knew their thorns.

He looked back up, worried for a moment that XD would be standing in front of him, ready to whisk him away to the altar. There was a shift of movement at the right side of the forest, perhaps XD reimagining the wedding venue now that the rain had completely ruined the god’s chosen outdoor setting. He took momentary pleasure at the thought of the weather going against the god’s wishes. No, today was not a radiant day for a wedding. But Fundy knew that a “little” storm wouldn’t stop the god. They were too excited, too eager to get the ceremony over with.

Fundy winced, maybe his constant escape attempts had been the cause of that rush. It had only been a week since the god had taken him captive and kept him in their domain, but Fundy had spent every day trying to find a way to escape. He’d given up after the fifth escape… after… Fundy pulled his knees close to his chest. He didn’t want to think about it. But he had to. He had to keep a reminder in his mind about how much he loathed the god and what they’d done to him.

The first attempt wasn’t even an attempt, it was him screaming until XD forced him to sleep.

The second attempt had begun the moment the god had gone into stasis, or the godly equivalent of what was sleep. The god’s hands were wrapped around Fundy, keeping him close to their chest, but Fundy had managed to sneak away after hours of slowly moving. He’d gotten to the door of the bedroom, unlocking it with a bobby pin that he’d found in one of the drawers. He’d gotten down the tree by the time XD realized he was gone. They’d teleported him back to the bedroom, vines growing against the surface of the door, effectively keeping him locked inside.

The third attempt was Fundy painstakingly cutting through the clump of vines after XD had left him to prepare for their wedding. He’d gotten through half of them by the time the god had come back. They’d been disappointed in Fundy, sad that he hadn’t even gotten dressed in his wedding suit yet. Then in a blink of an eye, the vines had grown back, with even more thorns than before. Then XD had whisked him away to the wedding venue, where Fundy then pretended to faint.

The fourth attempt was Fundy getting so frustrated that he took a chair and threw it at one of the windows. The glass shattered on impact, and he’d quickly tried to squeeze through the space, not caring for the shards that pierced his skin. XD had not taken that escape attempt all too lightly.

The fifth and last attempt… he’d convinced XD to give him some sand and gunpowder.

The god had been furious, even more so than what they’d been after the fourth escape attempt. Fundy had nearly killed himself in the process and had even attacked XD out of anguished rage.

Well… XD made sure Fundy could never attack them again.

Fundy sniffed, wiping at his tears. He didn’t want to be crying at his own wedding.

---

It was odd to have a wedding without a wedding officiator. Fundy kept his gaze on his hands, his fingers trembling each time XD traced his knuckles with their thumb. He could feel his throat dry up, his head heavy with nausea that he thought he was actually going to faint and fall over.

“Do I take Fundy Lore-Soot as my lawfully wedded husband?” XD paused, “I do.”

Fundy found it ridiculous. XD had taken up the mantle of wedding officiator, and if Fundy didn’t know any better, he would think that he was part of some comedic play or some big cosmic joke.

“And do you, Fundy Lore-Soot, take the god of wishes, XD, as your lawfully wedded spouse?”

Fundy gritted his teeth, he could feel the god’s magic in his throat. He could barely breathe a few seconds ago, but now it felt like he needed to speak like his life depended on it. “I do. I do. I do.”

He trembled, uncontrolled anger racing through his veins. It was torture to say ‘I do’ once, but the god forced him to say it three times, like Fundy was as desperate as them to get married. XD pulled him close, their gaze hot against his skin. He wished he would melt, that he could melt against the god’s touch and be swallowed by the grass. Anything that could set him free.

“Then by the power vested in me as the god of wishes, I now pronounce us married for eternity.”

The god leaned close, “I may now kiss the groom.” Fundy tried to move back, but the god had formed one more pair of hands. One hand held his hands, curled gently around his wrists. One hand was cupping him by the waist. One hand was on his chin, pulling his face up and towards them. The last hand was at the back of his head, pushing him forward and keeping his head in place. He closed his eyes, losing himself in his mind, refusing to accept what was happening. He focused on the life he’d lost, and his dads who would no doubt why he never came back to them.

After what felt like a lifetime, the god finally let him go.

Well, they didn’t. But they’d stopped kissing him in favor of picking him up.

XD laid him down on the altar.

Fundy blinked, holding onto one of XD’s hands out of fear. The god chuckled at the “endearing” display. “H-hey… the wedding’s over, ya? Time to head home, right? W-what are you doing?”

“The ceremony is not yet over, my star.” XD tilted their head, “You are still mortal.”

Any thread of cooperation they had established broke with that proclamation. Fundy screamed, pushing himself away from the altar just as a series of golden chains rose up from its sides. They wrapped around his arms and his legs, pulling him back down on the altar’s marble surface. He wailed, tears slipping past his eyes. He thought he’d only endure it for this lifetime, that the god would have no choice but to give him up to death at some point in the future. XD watched his struggle, summoning an intricate dagger. “Don’t worry, my sweet fox, I shall make it painless.”

“I OBJECT!”

---

George pushed past the leaven doors, not caring that the action caused the whole entrance way to collapse to a flimsy pile of autumn leaves. He stood at the end of the wedding venue, drenched from the rain. His heart beated loudly in his chest, his ears ringing as he made his way down the aisle. Wilbur was still by the entrance. George had told him to wait before he actually entered.

“Papa—” Fundy’s scream was cut off with a hand, the god having swiveled around to face whoever had dared to ruin their perfect day. George kept walking down the aisle, anger racing through his bones. His son looked so frightened. He clearly didn’t want to be marrying the god.

“Let him go, XD.”

“Why ever shall I do such a thing, my dearest friend, Georgenotfound? I have no intention of ever letting my newly wedded husband leave me. My old friend, I believe you are a few seconds too late. Fundy and I are married.” He heard Fundy scream out a protest, muffled by the hand that the god had left. George could see the tears on their son’s face, and his gaze turned towards the dagger that the god was carrying. He took the chance to look behind him, catching Wilbur’s pale gaze. His husband was looking at the dagger. “Leave before I cast you out. You are tresp—”

“I’ll take his place.”

The only sound that could be heard was Fundy’s fit of screaming. Wilbur was silent. XD had merely tilted their head, the god’s cold gaze meeting George’s eyes, piercing right through the goggles that he wore. He swallowed down the sickness he felt at the thought of marrying the go. XD had been his best friend once, and George had never thought of them in any other way. But the god had taken his friendship as romantic affection. “Fundy doesn’t love you.” The god reeled back, the ‘XD’ carved symbol on their head disappearing, only to return as golden chains that surrounded their white spherical head. “You and I know he doesn’t love you, and neither did I.”

George shook his head, “But I am willing to stay with you if you let him go.”

He met his son’s eyes, holding Fundy’s gaze for as long as he could. He worried it might be the last time they’d ever see each other again… if it went wrong… George shook his head. It won’t go wrong. He turned back to the god, the chains still present. “We could pretend like nothing has changed. I could stay here with you for all of eternity. We could be friends again, you and I. It must have been lonely when I left. You were never really great with making friends with others. We could try again. Just you and me, stuck in this forest forever. Like how it used to be. I won’t run away anymore. I won’t leave you ever again. Let Fundy go, and I’ll stay with you forever.”

The god was silent. For a moment, George thought they would agree. Then the ground disappeared from underneath him and a large hand was painfully gripping him by the leg. “No.”

Sharp cold pierced through his leg. The god glared down at him, “You are nothing to me.”

XD looked over at Fundy, “He… He is everything to me now.”

George placed his arms over his head, preparing himself for the fall. He heard the loud screech, and then his leg was free. He closed his eyes, but instead of hard earth, he fell into a pair of warm arms. He opened his eyes, embarrassingly laughing once he’d realized that Wilbur had caught him. His husband placed him back down, looking at his leg with worry when George stumbled. It wasn’t broken, but XD’s sharp cold magic would keep him from properly walking for a while.

Wilbur helped him away from the angered god. George looked up, watching as the hand that was previously holding him rotted away. XD screeched, turning to them, their golden chains glowing with a blinding light. A scythe appeared within view, striking the wish god right on their face.

The Goddess of Death entered the wedding venue, a disappointed look in her eyes.

“You should have let my grandson go, God of Wishes.”

=============================================================

Ambiguous ending but uh... I have preferred ending and it's def not the bad one.

Clarification for the title (which can't be seen here but is in the ao3 version): So a sunshower is a weather phenomenon where it is raining despite there still being sunshine. While the rain is not as heavy as a storm, I changed the rain here to be that like a rainstorm despite the sunlight that is still present. The reason for this is because where I'm from (or at least according to my mother) when a sunshower happens, that means a kapre and a white lady are getting married (or well, other Filipino mythological legends are getting married).

I just think with XD here being a somewhat monster of a god... well, poor Fundy having to marry him.

The sunshower is basically an indication here that a god is getting married, that's why Mumza asked Wilbur if he was getting married (also Wilbur is the god of music here, not all that powerful against a wish god).

[batsandbugs]

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 3: Food Court Shenanigans 

AN: Well, it’s two months later, but I’m finally back! Enjoy! 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Cautiously they snuck around from display to display - hiding their cloth robins in increasingly creative places, on a corkboard, with a dining set, on a fake bird. It became somewhat of a competition to find the best place within the display room. 

They remained serious in their mission at first, but soon conversation flowed. Snide comments about passing customers, little anecdotes - Damian’s humor was hilarious once you understood his sarcasm and pointed edges were just a defense mechanism (it reminded her of Chloe)- and joking around. Well, as much as they could be, being on the lookout for his older brothers. 

Over an hour they hid over thirty birds, changed outfits twice, spotted Jason another time, which resulted in Damian diving behind some fake curtains while Marinette tried not to drool over a butcher-block table perfect for a sewing room (but which was way too expensive). 

 “Coast is clear,” Marinette called, once Jason once again disappeared. Damian slid out from behind the curtain and joined her by the table. 

“This is nice,” he said. “But I like the dark oak better.” He pointed to the options available, and Marinette had to agree.

“Yeah, but my cabinets are light brown. Not that I need this or can afford it for that matter. I didn’t have a proper workstation even when I was in Paris.”

“Why not?” 

“No room. My parents had the bakery downstairs, then they lived on the second floor. I lived in a converted attic, which was great - I even had a balcony, but my computer desk took up a lot of room.” She shrugged a little self-consciously. “Besides, my projects always ended up splayed all over the floor, anyway.” 

“That’s fair,” he said with a small nod. He pulled out a map of the store, although Marinette couldn’t ever remember seeing ones to pick up. “We've neared the end of the showrooms - or at least the ones we placed calling cards in - once we enter the warehouse we’ll be out in the open. I’m sure one of my brothers are stationed there.” 

“Question is do we want to leave calling cards on the shelves of the warehouse, or do we need to avoid them more?” Marinette asked. 

Damian considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “We’ve still got several hours to go - open and bold moves now are an unnecessary risk. I would propose avoiding it altogether, but…” he trailed off. 

“What?” she prompted. A loud rumbling sound erupted from her stomach, and Marinette instantly wanted to die. Damian bit his lip, holding off a small smile. 

“Oh, laugh it up.” Marinette rolled her eyes, studiously ignoring the burning in her cheeks. “All I had to eat today was a pack of crackers.” 

“I thought you might be hungry - you could go grab something to eat from the food court and take a break if you wanted?” 

Marinette frowned. “But what about you? Aren’t you hungry?” 

Damian waved her off. “Nothing I can’t handle. I’ve gone longer than a few hours without food before.” His eyes were hard and cold, opposite of the teasing glint that had been there a moment before. It sent a small shiver down Marinette’s spine. It was obvious to anyone - or maybe it was just her - that Damian had been through things. 

But it didn’t sit right with her to head off to the safety of the food court and leave him alone and without food. While he had seemed perfectly capable of handling himself before she came along Marinette was very invested in how this turned out.

“How about I go grab both of us something to eat, come back here, and then we work on our next move from there?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Fine, if it makes you feel better.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek black wallet.

Marinette shook her head. “No, no, I can-”

He shoved a black metallic card into her hands; it weighed more than she thought it should.  

“I insist.”

“I have money.”

“So do I.”

“I don’t need your charity.”

“It’s not–it’s… payment.”

“I’m doing this for fun.”

“I won’t take no for an answer.” He crossed his arms and glared. It might have worked. If Marinette had been someone else. But she had been subjected to both Chole and Kagami’s overprotective and stubborn glares for years. This was nothing in comparison.

“I can pay, it’s nothing.”

He rolled his eyes again. “You’re a college student, it’s not nothing. Take. The. Card.”

Marinette threw her hands in the air. “Fine, you stubborn man.” A brief smile overtook Damian’s features, and then he dove out of sight. She turned to leave.

“I’m a vegetarian," he called. "Nothing with meat. And the pin is 1914.”

“Okay, I’ll be back in fifteen.” Walking away with the card in hand, she felt a little guilty for not fighting more. She was the one who was hungry, and who had offered to get him food. He didn’t need to give her his card.

Sighing in fond exasperation, she left the end of the display rooms. The warehouse section was large with rows upon rows of metallic shelving covered in boxes, but the food court sat off to the side; easy to find. It was mildly busy for a weekend afternoon, so she quickly stood in line and figured out what to order.

As she placed her order, she thought for a moment about just buying everything with her card, and then returning it to Damian as if she used it. She had a sneaking suspicion he would see right through that. Even after years of being a superhero, she still sucked at lying directly to someone’s face.

She scrolled through her phone, enjoying the slight break off her feet when she heard a familiar-sounding voice.

“Damn it, I don’t see the demon spawn,” growled an irritated voice.

Jason.

It was only years of practiced eavesdropping that stilled Mariette’s head from turning toward voice. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Damian’s older brother running a hand through his two-toned hair. A slightly smaller, but no less attractive man stood next to him, frowning at his phone.

“His credit card just pinged; he can’t have left that quickly.”

Marinette felt herself grow completely still at the mention of the credit card.

‘I am so going to tell him, I told you so,’ she thought furiously in her mind. How the hell would she leave without looking suspicious?

A third man jogged up to the two. A little older than them, but still just as attractive.

'This entire family looks like they could be on the cover of a freaking magazine,’ grumbled the part of her mind that was not overtaken with panic.

“I just checked the perimeter. No sign of him. Are you sure the charge was for the food court, Timmy?”

The man with the phone rolled his eyes. “Yeah–It comes out as $8.32, IKEA Food Court, order number 177.”

“Order 177. Order 177. Your food is ready,” called out a server. They placed the food on the counter, and Marinette saw the men all turn in sync to where the order laid innocently on the counter.

Marinette felt her stomach rumble again but knew the food was out of her reach now. Sacrifices had to be made to win.

‘Damn, I was looking forward to those meatballs and fries.’ No. She had to get out of here without Damian’s brothers noticing anything suspicious. They walked over to the counter, probably to ask the server who had ordered the food and which way they had gone.

Shit. She didn’t have any time.

Tapping on her locked screen, she placed it up to her ear as if taking a call.

“Hey Chole, yeah, no good to hear from you…” She rose from the plastic picnic bench. Only a few minutes before had seemed like such a nice place to rest, now it mocked her. She strolled away from the food court calmly, knowing one wrong move and she would be found out.

She reached into her bag, still walking normally, and grabbed a small metallic ball. It had a green paw print on the front.

Now, this was an experiment she and the kwamis had worked on over the summer. With a little help from Max–not that he knew what it was for–they had siphoned off a bit of pure energy from the Kwami’s and placed it into a small metallic ball that could be activated in a time of need. Mostly when it wasn’t safe to transform. It wasn’t super powerful and, so far, they’d only managed it with Plagg and Tikki, but it was something.

‘A bit of bad luck to distract them,’ Marinette thought.

Now, strictly speaking, this wasn’t exactly what they had in mind when creating the little devices, but desperate times called for desperate measures and all that.

She pressed the small paw print–using a bit of her own energy to activate the device–and threw it on the ground, letting it roll. She continued to walk calmly, and by the time she reached the entrance back to the showrooms, a clatter of noise erupted behind her. She only let herself glance back for a second, watching as a mostly empty display shelf collapsed onto an empty forklift.

Marinette winced. Hopefully, nothing was too damaged.  

Off to the side she saw multiple people had gotten into a traffic jam with their shopping carts, and… oh, everything had spilled out of one, and another looked like it had lost two wheels.

… okay, maybe the balls were a bit powerful.

Seeing she wasn’t being followed, she picked up her pace and made her way back to the showroom she’d left Damian at. Along the way, she saw multiple employees rushing toward the warehouse section. She felt a little bad for them, it would be a mess cleaning all this up, but it was her best shot at a clean escape.

After what felt like forever, but was just five minutes, she made it back to Damian’s hiding spot. Taking a moment to check her surroundings, she glanced around, not seeing any of Damian’s brothers. She breathed a small sigh of relief. She entered the showroom and ducked behind the counter.

“We need to go,” she whispered.

“Where’s the food?”

She shook her head. “Who cares about the food, we have bigger problems. Your brothers were waiting in ambush.” She shoved his credit card back at them. “They tracked your card.”

“Damn it,” Damian muttered.

She paused, thinking over the absurdity of the situation. “Who tracks their brother’s credit card?”

“People who want to win. What about you, Miss Disguises-in-your-purse?”

“They’ve come in handy multiple times.”

“Attention all IKEA customers be warned that aisles seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, and twenty are now closed because of potentially unsafe shelving units. We’re sorry for the inconvenience.”

Damian looked at her with a questioning glance, “Did you…?”

“I needed a distraction.”

“How… you know what… no, never mind.” He shook his head, but a small smile told Marinette it amused him.

“They’ll know you’re working with a partner if they get anything out of the server at the register. We need a better hiding spot.”

“Well, while you caused chaos, I figured out our next move.” He motioned her to follow him, and they crept along the floor to the back of the showroom. He moved aside a curtain to reveal an air conditioning grate big enough for both of them to crawl into. “The ventilation layout shows this running straight back to the loading docks, which have rooftop access. We can access another shaft which will take us back to the front of the store. I figured the long route would be safer than going the ground route.”

“Genius.” Said Marinette in amazement, although slightly wondering how on earth he got access to something like ventilation layouts.

“I am aware.”

“But how will we get it off the wall? I have a sewing kit, not a tool belt.”

Damian reached into his pocket and pulled something out.

“That’s a pen,” Marinette deadpanned.

“It’s a specially designed pen.” He grasped the top. “Avert your eyes.” Marinette glanced away, but then heard the sizzle of metal, and felt the warm rush of heat.

She looked. In Damian’s hand was a small laser, shaped like a pen, easily cutting through the metallic grate blocking off the air shaft.

“It’s a LASER?” Marinette whispered in a shriek. “You… just have a laser in your pocket.”

“Well, you apparently disabled four industrial shelving units with your mind.” He grabbed hold of the grate as it came loose and placed it behind the curtain.

“I didn’t disable four shelving units. Just one,” she paused, “and a forklift… and some shopping carts. Just enough to cause a distraction.”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, but she could see the glee lurking beneath the surface. She couldn’t help the smile spreading across her own face. Something about Damian was infectiously fun and absurd. Marinette was reminded of her earlier days as a hero before the weight of the city fully settled on her shoulders. Back when fights were simple, and midnight patrols were racing across the Parisian rooftops–making the blood in her veins pound with the rhythm of her steps.

She missed it.

“Ladies, first,” Damian said, gesturing to the vent.

“Thanks.” She crawled in, beyond grateful she decided to wear pants that day. Damian crawled in right behind her and readjusted the curtain over the uncovered air shaft.

She grabbed her phone from her bag and turned on the light. Holding it and crawling was difficult, but it was better than crawling around in total darkness. It was times like this where she questioned the absolute insanity of her life.

She wouldn’t have it any other way, though. Tag List: (Closed, sorry!! I’m so glad you all like it though.) 

@multplelifes @bluesimani @justhugefangirl @nik-nak-3@redscarlet95 @purplesundaze @incredulous-reader @k-poplunardreams @our-preciousss @blackmagicforever @vgirl-10123 @lozzybowe @wannajointhecrabcult @dast218 @chaotic-mess-of-a-life @fidget-eep @kawaiigiantjudgefish @queenmj10@tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @crazylittlemunchkin @fandom-writer642 @nach0ava @ladybug-182 @sam-i-am-0222@spyofthenightcourt @how-to-fuction-properly@emotionalsupportginger @dreamykitty25 @tomanyfandomsonmy-mind @mystery-5-5 @theatreandcomicfreak @weird-pale-blonde-person @whatthechickenfriedfuck @myazael@pawsitivelymiraculous @urbanpineapplefarmer @karategirl119@consumeconstantly @hauntedstudent99 @ertyzeta @thornalchemist23 @iloveitwhen @animegirlweeb@byronsacademics @i-wanna-be-a-ninja @moonlitjiminie@iglowinggemma28 @constancetruggle @catgirlkittypryde @waffelyunsure @maskedpainter @lilkymilky @unhappyraspberry @avengerthewarrior @quotesandanime @tbehartoo @clumsy-owl-4178 @g-arya @chocolateherringtacofan​ @jalaluvsu​ @crazyrandomrebel @fatimaabbasrizvi​ @thenillabean​ @goblinwhoships​ @bluefyoto94​ @nerinalith​ @loopingtangent​ @demonicbusiness​ @hecate-hallow​ @themcclan​ @tropestropestropes​ @paintedhope7​

[wyn-n-tonic]

We Can Stay Like This Forever

Word Count: 2,385 Warnings: Uh... yearning. A crumb of smut. Dialogue heavy bullshit tbh. Author's Note: God okay, I've been sitting on this for like a month now? I wrote this when I couldn't focus on my own characters anymore and my brain needed to visualize parts of the scene I was trying to write using the body language of a character I already know and love so well. This is written in second person but the reader has a name. It was an experiment dashed out in a drunken fervor that made my editor weep. Anyway, if you see any of these lines in a book one day... no you don't.

MASTERLIST

“Javi, I haven’t loved you since I was twent—“

“That's bullshit and you know it,” he interrupts, voice coming out hard but arms crossed tighter than they have been all night, replacing the pressure of kevlar he’s so used to. Protective, defensive, stopping the bullets from reaching him where it matters the most.

Your lips are raw from dragging your teeth across them but biting down is the only thing that stops the tears from springing to the surface. You never thought you’d see him again, you never thought he’d be standing in your kitchen only strides away; two for him, four for you. You saw the news coming out of Colombia, heard it in the supermarket passed from ear to ear straight from his dad’s mouth. Javier Peña was the walking dead.

Javi left Lorraine for you. You gave him a choice and he made it and you, being certain he’d lean the other way, couldn’t live with that guilt. When you wrote that first letter, you didn’t expect a response. You just wanted to apologize, you wanted him to know that you were sorry. You didn’t expect to hear his voice on the other end weeks later when you picked up the phone. Hell, you had pushed the letter so far out of your mind that you’d forgotten you’d included your number.

And now he’s standing in front of you, tangible as ever. No longer just the boy you loved but a man aged so roughly by sun and stress that you are breaking within wishing that you had been there to smooth it all over.

“Goddamn it, Clara,” that hard tone reaches towards you again but he loosens his stance, the toned arms still holding close to his body but the tension bottoming out to his exhaustion, “are you going to say anything or are you going to just keep looking at me like I’m a fucking ghost?”

“Is that not what you are?” Your voice is broken when you find it again, the tears really do come now. “A ghost from my past come back to haunt my bad decisions? Tell me I fucked up?”

“Is that what you think I’m here for? Is that why you think I came to you first thing instead of my family?” He exhales a breath you didn’t realize he was holding and drags a hand through his hair, pinning you in place with his eyes. “Can I smoke in here?”

“I thought you quit.”

“Yeah well,” another exhale, the slightest hint of laughter on his lips, “I thought a lot of things I’ve been wrong about too.”

And god, those eyes. Simultaneously the warmest, softest brown but so black they look like blown out pupils. Like he’s the one who’s been snorting the cocaine, not busting those that do. You don’t even register the insult before nodding your head. What’s a little cigarette smoke when you run the risk of him walking out that door and not coming back?

But isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that the purpose of this conversation? Are you not being the same bitch you were all those years ago praying that he’ll be the one to walk out on you this time? Bringing it back full circle to that decision you forced on him half a lifetime ago?

“Yeah?” He doesn’t sound sure and even though your eyes are anywhere but on his now, you haven’t felt his leave you this whole time.

“Yeah,” you whisper to your feet like they’re the most interesting goddamn thing in the world.

After years of practice, he’s quick about it, you don’t even realize he’s lit up until he lets go of that first puff and, with it, the entire room changes. It’s not angry, it’s not hard, it’s… twenty years of heartache and longing compounding, neither party believing they’re good enough for the other.

You look back at the tired man standing in front of you, “Javier, I—“

“No. No, let me talk,” he rubs his eyes with his free hand, drags it down his golden cheek and smirks. Another inhale and, “I didn’t come here to tell you that you fucked up, you’ve said it plenty. We’ve been talking for months, we fell back in stride like nothing ever happened, like I hadn’t spent years pretending every woman I fucked was you because it was like you’d never left my side. Almost twenty-five hundred miles, Clara, I was a world away from you and when I came home at the end of the day the last six months…” he’s the one biting his lip now, “I could call you no matter the time and the sound of your voice made me feel like a normal person. Like I still had a shot at this world beyond the bounty on my head.”

His exhaustion, his softness, is palpable now as he stops to suck in a breath like he hasn’t taken one this whole time and then…

“If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t have written. If you didn’t love me, you would’ve hung up. If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t answer the phone at one o’clock in the fucking morning to tell me to breathe through the anger and the sadness and the horror I witnessed. But if that’s the story you want to stick with, I’ll go. I don’t expect anything I just…” his voice hitches, the cigarette long forgotten between his fingers, “I just wanted to see if your face still lights up when you laugh or if that had changed after two decades. It hasn’t and it’s still both my favorite sight and sound in the world. I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder to watch it grow through the years.”

He looks to the right of him and throws the cigarette in the sink. Pushing off the counter with his other hand, he takes one step forward and fixes his eyes on yours again. “Tell me I’m wrong, Clara. Tell me you don’t love me and I won’t ever darken your home aga—“

“I love you.”

And he’s on you. Just like that. Just one more step to close the distance and his body presses to yours. His large hands come up to cradle your jaw and his nose slots perfectly into place against yours and his lips touch down like a plane with faulty landing gear, crashing against yours all hot breath and stale tobacco and, oh god, the smell of him. Soap and sweat, the chemical make up of his scent flooding your senses to make you feel whole again when you didn’t even know how much you missed it.

His hands are sliding down gently, wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. With his strong arms lifting you away from the counter, you no longer need to support yourself against it and you’re grabbing for him, trying harder to wring the space from between you like a worn rag but nothing is left.

The feel of him is something new, however. He’s not that scrawny kid who awkwardly held you to him, unsure of how his touches were affecting your body and pleasure. No, this Javier is different. Older, experienced, more tender than you remember him ever being, so sure of himself and just… thicker. Two shirt sizes up from the man you walked away from, his formerly wiry muscles are almost bubble wrapped in a way. What used to knot against you in hard planes of flesh and bone now give quietly against your touch as you’re pulling at the only thing that separates you now.

But suddenly, he’s breaking away. All heavy breaths and wildly flushed cheeks, his lips have left yours and the ache you numbed in his absence returns like a migraine after sleep. You need him and he’s gone again and you’re chasing his kiss with a whine as he replaces his lips with a thumb, cradling your face once more and shushing you, “Cálmate, mi amor. Está bien. Are we moving too fast right now?”

And you are breathless as you answer, “We are not moving fast enough, Javier.”

“I just don’t want you to think that this is all that I want. That you will wake to find an empty bed tomorrow.”

“If I woke to find an empty bed tomorrow, that’s exactly what I’d deserve.”

Those eyebrows knit up in confusion, the lines that have made their home on his forehead making you simultaneously weak in their beauty as evidence of his life and sad in the tragedy that you weren’t there to watch him earn them.

“Clarita,” his tone is so soft, the endearment coming to him as naturally now as it did in the before, “If it’s punishment you think you deserve then I’m here to tell you that you’re wrong. I chose you, you didn’t beg for it. I did that of my own accord. And when you chose to walk away because you felt guilty, I did beg you. I’ll own it, I begged and pined but you couldn’t get out of your own head long enough to see that you were never the issue, you were the solution. You still are. I have searched for you in everybody I’ve ever met. So tell me,” his hands are wrapping around your arms now, “Are you ready to forgive yourself and find me in your bed tomorrow morning?”

“Yes,” comes barely audible through parted lips as his find yours once more, knocking the breath from your chest as his hands slide down to your hips. He digs his fingers into the denim there and slowly starts to guide you through the home that’s not his thinking, correctly, that the only door at the end of the hallway is the destination he really booked from Bogotá.

And he is burning a hole through you, his entire being set on fire against you in the already blazing Texas heat. He is gentle as he pushes you down, climbing on top with one arm out to break both your falls. His shirt was abandoned somewhere in the kitchen, shoes kicked off in the hallway with your shorts not far behind. His belt buckle is riding against you as he rocks his hips down, forgetting the metal between you in his hunger for you to feel him.

He feels you wince, the whine swallowed between his lips but he’s pulling back like he’s electrocuted you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” your hands are shaking as you take advantage of the space between, “just take your pants off.”  

He hits you with that crooked smile and meets your hands where they’re still trembling at his hips and, god, he’s swift. He wastes no time kicking off his jeans and falling back into you, pressing back into you. You can feel him straining against his briefs but his patience is unmatched as he savors every taste of your mouth, every nip at the warm skin of your neck and chest. His hands are exploring the years that have marked your body as you mentally catalogue the scars that have taken over his.

He’s pushed your shirt up as far as it will go without leaving you but when he finally does to lift it away, the separation is so quick that it feels like nothing. He’s everywhere and you’re delirious, half thinking you’re imagining him moaning into you as he takes your hand in his to put it where he wants it.

You almost think…but, no, that’s not how that works. Your brain is fucking with you, unable to reconcile the man on top of you with the memory of the boy you loved once upon a time. But you swear, he’s bigger. He holds his breath as your hand slides between him and his waistband and he’s looking down at you like he’s never been touched at all. The sadness showcased across the softness of his face is made worse by the sheen of sweat and blush across his nose. You’d almost believe it if you couldn’t feel the heartbeat in his hardness, waiting for you to make the next move.

After two beats of aching silence, looking up into the galaxies he has the audacity to call eyes, your other hand moves to push at his waistband. If you thought he was urgent before, the graceful rush to join your efforts is gold medal worthy. Your senses are delayed, you’re not sure if the sound of fabric hitting the ground comes before or after he’s ripping at the only bit of fabric that separates you now.

“Fuck,” he rests his forehead to yours, “I'll buy you another pair.” The confusion bubbles into laughter as you realize that, yes, he actually tore them from your body.

But the bubbling laughter in your throat squeezes into a tight gasp, the air punched from your lungs as he steadies himself against you. His long fingers are brushing your hair to the side as he leans down and whispers against your lips, “Can I?”

“Please,” but your begging is lost in his response before the word has fully left your lips. He is grabbing in a way you haven’t felt in years. Hungry, like he can’t get enough, like it’s all he needs.

It is devastating, the build up. He’s ripping through the deepest parts of you and you’re convinced, wholeheartedly, that the only truth you’ve ever known rides on the waves of his name. His grip tightens, his teeth dragging down your jawline and warmth takes over as an earthquake shatters what little composure you’ve kept.

He moans low in his throat once.

Twice.

Three times it dies out against your ear like it’s only meant for you. Like it was all only meant for you.

He’s smiling as he softens, you can hear it in his voice as he slowly asks, “Can we just stay like this for a minute?”

You press your lips to that dimple, singular and lonely on the right side of his face; so far gone from a five o’clock shadow, you’d almost think he’s been forty all his life.

“Javier,” your fingers wind tighter through the sweat slick curls at the crown of his head, “we can stay like this forever.”

TAGLIST: @justanotherblonde23​ | @greeneyedblondie44​ | @icanbeyourjedi​ | @princess76179​ | @bbuckysbeardd​ | @notcookiebelle​ | @knivesareout​ | @empress-palpat1ne​ | @phoenixpascal​ | @lexi-b-writes​ 

[ushidoux]

Be My Last - Iwaizumi x Reader

Summary: You have trouble getting over a past relationship and it’s preventing you from moving forward. (~3.5k words)

Warnings: stubborn ass reader, very slight nsfw at the end

A/N: It took me a long time to write this because I have trouble with fluff and also trouble with characterizing Iwa lmfao, I might need a second watch. I hope you enjoy! Happy Thanksgiving!

Part 1|| Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

---

“Are you serious?! Are you really saying no to this face?”

Your best friend was now leaning so far across the fast food dining table that she had practically climbed on top of it, holding up her phone just inches from your face to force you to take a better look at the picture of the blind date she had arranged for you. 

Your eyes crossed uncomfortably by reflex and you pulled back sharply to grab the phone from her and take a better look. On second glance, you had to admit that the guy standing next to Oikawa was quite good-looking, a couple inches shorter but with a sturdier build, sharper features and just enough scowl in his facial expression to intrigue you. 

In fact, he was exactly your type.

“Just one date,” your friend insisted. “You’ve been pining over your ex for almost a year now! You don’t have to fall in love but maybe a small distraction? Plus, double dates would be so fun, come onnnnn~”

Your friend was only rarely this animated so you knew she really wanted this but the idea of even considering romance again after being dumped so harshly before was so undesirable that you stubbornly shook your head instead and took another bite of your burger.

“___, please?”

You frowned, and your friend’s pout grew deeper once she realized there was a pretty good chance you wouldn’t budge about this. After all, you’d rejected every single person that so much as looked in your direction so effectively these past few months that it had essentially become an afterthought.

She leaned back in her seat, occupying herself now with picking out a particularly long fry off of the platter you were sharing, trying to minimize her disappointment. Despite how much she hoped you would say yes, she could understand why you felt the way you did.

“I’m sorry,” you offered, sipping on your drink. She let out a defeated sigh.

“Well, I’ll try to figure out a compassionate way to let Iwa now that you’re not interested. Honestly, Oikawa will probably be more offended by it than me.”

At this last comment, her eyes twinkled softly with a mild amusement and she started to text her boyfriend. However, knowing that it would possibly be a bigger deal to reject Oikawa’s best friend right off the bat than to just endure a date once, you reconsidered.

“Fine! Stop, I don’t need Tooru yelling in my ears. I’ll go.”

She smiled. You’d fallen right into her trap.

---

Exactly 72 hours later almost to the minute, you found yourself standing before the duo of childhood friends at the entrance of a town fair, your friend by your side.

Oikawa’s partner-in-crime was, to both your surprise and chagrin, even better looking in person. Kinder too, if you discounted the glare he shot at Oikawa when he introduced him mock affectionately as ‘Iwa-chan, his very best friend in the whole wide world’. You stifled a laugh as Iwa released Oikawa from a headlock, and introduced yourself politely to him noticing the very faint pinking of the ears that accompanied the softening of his expression as he shifted his attention to you.

A small fluster you couldn’t help but find cute was evident in his voice as he shared his full name - Iwaizumi Hajime. Strike one. 

Strike two was the careful distance he left between you two as you walked through the street fair, just steps behind Oikawa and your friend who trekked confidently and comfortably linked hand in hand. His questions were respectful but pointed, like he truly wanted to get to know you as much as possible, and as he listened he leaned in just so, making sure to hear you clearly over the bustle of the busy crowds.

He helped you with your safety belts as you strapped in together on small thrill rides and you could catch his furtive glances in the corner of your eyes as you laughed and screamed.

A part of you wondered if it was too quick, if it was a bad omen that he already appeared smitten with you despite having just met. However, you had missed the feeling of someone liking you genuinely and explicitly so, dating back from even before you had started having problems in your last relationship, so you appreciated it wholeheartedly.

Strike three was him immediately setting a time and a date to meet again, without the hovering presence of your best friends, which he emphasized loudly to listening ears behind you (Oikawa made his disappointment at being excluded quite apparent by groaning loudly within earshot).

“I really enjoyed spending time with you today, ___.”

It wasn’t too much, wasn’t too little and wasn’t too soon.

“So did I.” You replied with a smile more genuine than you’d had for months.

---

Date two went as smoothly as date one.

Dinner and a movie, a classic. Iwa had chosen a psychological thriller that you had been looking forward to for a couple weeks and prior to meeting you’d started to text back and forth regularly about theories, so thereafter sprang forth endless spirited debates. As the evening progressed, you noticed him yielding earlier and earlier, and you noticed that he got quieter as the night went on, preferring to sit back and watch you talk. You couldn’t tell if it was the few cocktails with dinner but soon you were distracted by eyes that rested on you easily with an accompanied smile. It was enough to make your face grow warm.

“Am I talking too much?” You asked, sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I get like this when I’m excited.”

“I love hearing you talk,” he replied with a small laugh. “No one can talk as much as Oikawa so don’t worry.”

Your smile spread from ear to ear and you could feel your bruised heart grow ever so slightly.

---

Date three, four and five had you swept off your feet and you found yourself falling between hikes, picnics and aquarium trips. 

Which was why when your friend called you to gloat about how she was right about you two all along, you realized just how deep you had fallen and almost instantly, that familiar fear that you had been nursing for the past year settled back into your consciousness.

You couldn’t bear another heartbreak. The thought of Iwa’s warm smiles becoming addictive and constantly craving the feel of his hands on your skin only to then be discarded like a participation ribbon hung heavy on you.

“I.. I don’t think I can keep seeing him,” you said, in sudden realization, despite the fact that you had been gushing about your dates just minutes earlier.

You could hear a pause on the other end of the line, and then your friend asked softly, “Is it because you still miss him?” 

The other him. Of course you did, you still lived in the apartment the two of you had shared right after college, having given yourself multiple excuses not to move out. You hadn’t even bothered to change the decorations you’d bought together and thus every part of this place reminded you of him. 

You even watered the plants he had left behind every morning. You couldn’t tell if it was because you had grown attached to them or worse - because you thought maybe, just maybe, if he ever came back, he’d want to know that you were always nursing your love.

“I’m… not sure,” you replied.

Your friend sighed audibly into the phone.

“You’re missing out on someone great, but I’ll support you regardless.”

---

Your graduate classes ended late the next evening, and you stumbled into your apartment with mild exhaustion, kicking off your shoes and slipping off your jeans before plopping on your bed.

Iwa had said he wanted to come see you, and even though just a few days ago you had been excited at the prospect of spending time with him in your own home, your stomach fluttered with a different type of alarm when you considered the fact that if you were to tell him you were no longer interested in letting whatever was between you bloom, it would have to be now.

Would it be better to tell him over text message or on the phone or in person? You didn’t want to see the look on his face when you hurt him; you knew it would change your resolve. 

If you called him on the phone, would you be able to withstand hearing the disappointment in his voice? Would he demand a reason, and would he tell you your weak one wasn’t enough?

If you sent him a simple text and then blocked his number, would you be the awful person too chickenshit to say the words to his face?

Your phone buzzed just as you were paralyzed with your choices.

I’m 20 minutes away. How was your class?

You froze.

20 minutes to make a decision. Would you have him come all this way just to drop him without a very good reason in the comfort of your own home?

You stared at your phone for five minutes longer, perseverating, only to be startled out of your trance when you saw his name flash over the front. You forgot you had read receipts on; it had never been a problem before.

“Hey, are you okay?” His voice dripped of concern. “You read but didn’t answer.”

“Y-yeah, of course! Class was good… I’ll see you in a bit.”

---

You soon wished you hadn’t let Iwa into your apartment. Now that he was here snuggled with you on the couch, close enough that you could take in his scent, all you could think of was the thought of his lips on yours.

5 dates and you hadn’t yet kissed. Maybe that was for the best, you were planning to break up with him anyway, weren’t you?

You weren’t exactly sure when you had crept so close to each other, but your head now rested gently on his shoulder and his hand had at some point snaked around your waist to pull you against him. You could feel your heart pound in your chest as you stayed close in the dark, and maybe you could feel his own heart beat, steady as his breathing despite the tension building in the air.

You had lost track of the plot of the movie on your flat screen long ago, too preoccupied with the flurry of potential ensuing scenes between you in your head.

What would stop you from going full speed ahead? The fear that you wouldn’t matter enough to him once months came to pass and he learned just how far short you fell from his perfect perception of you? Or that you would once again find yourself in darkness, wondering how many times you’d open your heart only to wish you had kept it guarded?

Or maybe it was the reality that you weren’t sure that you really wanted to move on?

Iwa was a good person, he didn’t deserve your hesitation.

He shifted ever so slightly beside you and in the backlight of the flashing scenes on the television screen, you could see his eyes settle on your lips.

“Is it okay if we-,” he started, only to be interrupted by the fact that you had already pulled him in by the shirt collar and were lost in the taste of him on your tongue. You could tell he was surprised, but Iwa leaned into your kiss, pulling you now fully onto his lap and holding you steady by the waist as the two of you made out. 

Your hands crept up to his face, fingers gently trailing then cupping the curve of his jaw, and the longer you kissed, the more of him you wanted. When his hands started to tug just slightly at the edge of your shirt to warn you he was going underneath, you tensed but nodded to allow him to palm a breast and roll a nipple between two fingers.

A soft moan left you, renewed when Iwa’s lips left your mouth to kiss a spot just before your earlobe, and his other hand pressed firmly into the small of your back to secure you even closer to him, close enough that you could feel his bulge pressing through his jeans and against your body. Knowing that you could feel him, he whispered breathily into your ear:

“I won’t continue if you don’t want me to.”

Did you want him to continue?

You pulled back from him to study his face, glowing with an earnest desire for you and suddenly you felt so guilty. 

“I… I think we should stop here,” you choked out, ignoring the warmth in your cheeks and the flicker of disappointment in his face, and you slowly climbed off him, embarrassed as you stood on your feet.

He didn’t ask why and replied with acceptance.

“Okay.”

---

What he didn’t accept was you finally telling him you no longer wanted to see him in a text message hastily conjured in the middle of the night after a particularly hard day.

He called immediately and you let the phone ring, biting your lip the entire six rings it took for him to give up. He didn’t leave a voice message, but sent you a short text.

I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Can we please talk?

You fought back the urge to cry as you turned over to go to sleep.

He called again in the morning, and when you ignored his call for a second time, the unreasonable part of you waited for a follow-up voicemail or text message which never came. Good for you. You couldn’t understand your own feelings right now and you didn’t deserve to have him sort them out for you.

At least if you acted like a bitch, he would drop you before you could change your mind.

---

“A text message? Really?”

Your friend had dropped by the following Saturday morning for brunch and while you had dreaded this conversation, you had expected it to happen and steeled yourself for the admonishment. You shrugged, avoiding looking at her in the eyes and focusing on watering the plants at your windowsill. Your friend watched you carefully, irritation bubbling within her in response to your stubborn silence.

“I wouldn’t be so insistent if I knew you didn’t like him, but you do! Everyone can see it!”

You didn’t reply, opening your blinds instead. Plants needed lots of sun in addition to water.

“___, I didn’t want to be harsh but he’s not coming back. Even if it’s not with Iwa, please… please get over him.”

You finally turned and gave her a meaningful look, tears now coming to your eyes. Your friend’s mouth fell slightly ajar and realizing just how harsh her truth had been, she got up from your kitchen table and walked over to you to envelop you in a hug as you came undone.

---

A total of three weeks passed, and you finally admitted to yourself that you missed Iwa but it was clearly too late to fix anything. Calling him up would just get you ignored (and rightfully so) and you couldn’t bear to send another text message after ghosting him. Instead you watered your ex’s plants and focused on your classes.

Your best friend had forgiven you for your cruelty even though she let you know she was still suffering from Oikawa’s wrath on your behalf, so instead you decided to distract yourself by going out with other friends and picking up new hobbies.

A girl you were getting to know from class was very excited about a new high-end gym that had opened with nice amenities including a pool and a sauna and free physical training sessions with membership so you indulged her by going as a guest on a weekend.

You had to admit that the place was beautiful, and you made a beeline for the elliptical, a tried and true contraption. She had been making a fuss about one of the instructors being attractive which you had in all honesty paid very little attention to, until she dragged you by the arm to hiss into your ear.

“There he is, don’t look too obviously.”

You turned to find yourself staring straight at Iwaizumi Hajime, physical trainer.

“Oh shit, he’s looking at you,” she whispered, but you were already making your way to the exit. “Wait, where are you going?”

Your pace had gone from a walk to almost a run.

“____!” you heard him call behind you as you scurried as fast as you could off of the premises. Embarrassing. So, so embarrassing.

His voice was starting to sound aggravated, and your run stuttered to a standstill. What were you doing? Running from someone because you told them you didn’t want to date them?

He caught up to you in the parking lot and he no longer smiled; there was a tinge of mild irritation that graced his facial expression as he looked at you.

“Please stop running from me. You don’t need to make it awkward… I... I’m not thinking about it.” He glanced away at the last statement, but you knew he was being sincere while you were being ridiculous.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, and you thought maybe you would say more but he cut you off.

“You don’t have to be sorry. Have a good workout. If you need any help, I’m available, as are the other instructors.”

Professional and curt, he bowed before turning, and before you realized what you were doing, you found yourself tugging onto the sleeve of his shirt to hold him back. When he looked back to you again, while he didn’t give you the fierce scowl he reserved for Oikawa, his expression was still harsh as he looked down at you, waiting to see what you had to say.

What did you want to say? You already said you were sorry, there wasn’t much else to add.

Words failed you and you recoiled ever so slightly. He sighed audibly, and turned fully to face you.

“___, please don’t play with my feelings.”

You deflated as he waited just a few more moments for you to come up with the courage to say you still wanted him, and when you were unable to come up with the words, he bowed again, and returned to the building. 

Moments later, you texted your friend to tell her you were sorry, but you were going home immediately.

---

It was a few minutes past 9pm and you had all but forgotten the sting of Iwa’s words as you focused on homework, listening to lo-fi music to help you concentrate. Your phone buzzed once, and you expected maybe your classmate to yell at you again for ditching her, but instead you found a message from Iwa. 

I’m sorry for speaking to you that way.

Your heart thumped hard once in your chest, and you flipped your phone over to get back to work, but it was too late. Your concentration was shot for the night.

I’m ready to listen to whatever you have to say, a second message read.

What would happen if you wore your heart on your sleeve just one more time? 

Iwa called you before you could call him, and this time you picked up, breathing a hesitant “Hello?” into the phone.

“___, I like you. A lot,” he paused, as those words sank into your heart. “I’m sorry, I wanted to get that out of the way.”

“I do, too,” you replied just as quickly. 

Another pause. You swallowed hard and continued,

“I just don’t want to hurt you.”

His reply was fast. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

You frowned. “You don’t understand… I still think I have some unresolved feelings for someone else, and I just… I don’t want to wrong you in the long run.”

Another pause. You pressed your eyes shut, anticipating the worst, whatever it was. It felt as though you were on the line for ages, until suddenly Iwa finally spoke.

“Try me.”

“What?” Your shock was audible, and he repeated himself. 

“Use me if you need to.”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying. 

“But-”

“I know we’ve only been seeing each other for a short time, but I can’t explain it… I know I’m willing to risk it.” The confidence in his voice was almost shocking, and it made your heart swell. 

“Hajime…” 

“May I come over?”

---

The conversation ended with Iwa promising you that he’d make you forget your ex, your faces now just inches from each other, him hovering above you as you laid on your back in the comfort of your bed, eyes feasting on his exemplary physique. Starting up where you left off just three weeks prior, you held onto him for dear life as his hips rolled against you, his body pistoning into you carefully and precisely, his hands gentle and steady, and both of your hearts full.

If you were worried about using him, then don’t. Use him as much as you need to. He was giving you permission, is what he said.

Would you take advantage of him? 

Now that you were in his embrace, you found it unlikely: for the very first time in a year, you knew that while you weren’t in love yet, you could feel yourself falling very, very soon.

[drowsy-writer]

Snadgers and Casts — regulus black x reader 

Summary: After a mishap during Quidditch practice, Regulus is sent to the hospital wing. Good thing Reader's there to cheer him up.

Warning: nothing except for tooth rotting fluff

Notes: reader is a Hufflepuff and goes by she/her pronouns. Also for those who haven’t seen gravity falls, there’s a picture of a snadger at the end :) thanks for reading!

Everyone knows how violent Quidditch can get. Some people fell and broke a few bones, others got their jaws shattered by a Bludger, and an unlucky few met their untimely ends whilst chasing the Snitch; all in all, Quidditch was not a sport for the faint hearted. And Regulus Black was far from faint hearted. But invincible? He was not.

Laying in one of the beds within the Hospital Wing, Regulus fiddled with the bandages littering his fingers as he waited for Madam Pomfrey to come back from her daily rounds. Quidditch practice that day had gone on like usual until one of the newer players, whose name Regulus ought to know but forgot, miscalculated a hit on a Bludger and sent it barreling towards Regulus. The hit itself wasn’t too painful but the impact was powerful enough to knock Regulus off his broom and hit the ground with a gut-wrenching crunch.

Now, sitting with an obnoxiously large cast on his right leg and bandages lining both his fingers and face, Regulus sat in his bed with a deep frown.

“Any higher,” Madam Pomfrey had said whilst putting on the cast,” and you’d have much more to worry about than a broken bone.”

Regulus huffed as he tried to move his foot around, only succeeding in wiggling the toes that were peeking out from underneath the cast. He supposed it could’ve been worse, like diving head first into the stands or slamming into a wall, and had half heartedly agreed to Madam Pomfrey to ‘take it easy’ the next couple of days. Regulus chuckled to himself. As if he was one to take anything easy.

“You look like shit,” a voice said. Regulus looked up and despite his best efforts to maintain his signature scowl, the corners of his lips jutted upwards as his friend since 2nd year walked towards him,“must’ve been quite the fall, eh? How’d it feel?”

“What kind of question is that?” Regulus furrowed his brows in amusement as he saw [Y/N] drop her bag into the chair next to her and plop herself down on the edge of the bed,” you know you can use the chair to sit, right? It’s not a coat hanger.”

“Oh, I know,” the Hufflepuff smiled as she leaned back and ran a hand over the cast,” just that I want’ta get a closer look, is all. Heard McLaughlin was the one that made ya fall. Cute kid but an utter clutz I hear.”

“Has terrible aim, too.”

“You’re telling me,” [Y/N] giggled. She looked back at Regulus and the smile that danced on her lips grew wider. Regulus straightened his back and subconsciously swallowed an invisible gulp of air.

“[L/N]?,” Regulus’s voice wavered,” what are you planning?”

“Nothing. Why’d you ask? Something on my face?” [Y/N] smiled again and, jumping up from the edge of the bed, rummaged through her bag until she pulled out a thick, black sharpie. Regulus’s eyes shot up and his back, despite the frigid air of the hospital wing, began to sweat.

“Don’t you write anything stupid on me, [Y/N].”

“I’m not writing on you, Reg. I’m writing on your cast.”

“It’s still on me, though.”

“Potato, tomato. There’s a difference.”

‘That’s not how it—,” Regulus sighed as he slumped further into the mattress, watching as [Y/N] shuffled over to his foot with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes,”—just don’t write anything stupid, please.”

“You already said that,” [Y/N] said as she began to doodle. The sound of marker on fiberglass stung Regulus’s ears and he recoiled slightly, jerking his leg away from [Y/N],” hey! Stop moving! You’re gonna mess it up.”

“I’m sure it’ll be alright,” Regulus mumbled. As the room fell silent, Regulus watched as [Y/N] continued to draw on his leg. A soft smile played on his features as he watched [Y/N]’s face contort in concentration, tongue stuck out in deep thought. He felt a familiar warmth blossom in his chest and slowly creep up to his cheeks. As his face reddened, Regulus quickly looked away and found that the small scratches on the bedside table were far more interesting than whatever his friend was doing.

Sparing a glance towards [Y/N], Regulus saw her smile once again and stand up triumphantly.

“Take a looksie, Reg.”

Shifting his foot around so he can see, Regulus couldn’t help but hold back a quiet laugh.

“Is that supposed to be a snake? What’s wrong with its head?”

“No. It’s a Snadger,” [Y/N] pointed at the crude drawing and circled her finger around what appeared to be a head of a badger placed on the body of a snake,” y’know? Like a snake and a badger?”

“Sure. But why’s it look angry?”

“It’s not angry! It’s smiling. Can’t you see the teeth?” Regulus’s smile grew wider as he watched [Y/N]’s cheeks turn red in frustration. Combing a hand through his ebony locks, Regulus looked back down at the drawing and laughed once again. [Y/N]’s face turned a shade darker as the Slytherin continued to laugh,” what’s so funny? At least I can draw.”

“No, it’s just that—,” Regulus took a deep breath to compose himself before looking back at [Y/N], watching as she nervously shifted her weight from one side to the other,”—thank you, [Y/N]. I needed a laugh.”

“Course you do. You’re always so uptight about everything,” [Y/N] said. She threw the marker on to the chair and plopped herself down on the bed next to Regulus, ”bet if I shoved a coal up your ass, there’d be a diamond in a week.”

“Very funny, [Y/N],” Regulus sighed as he glanced down at his bandaged fingers and picked at one of the loose Band-Aids. A [S/C] hand stopped Regulus from picking it any further and caused his gaze to flutter upwards. With a lopsided grin, [Y/N] laughed as she intertwined her fingers with Regulus’s. He raised a brow,” what are you planning now?”

“Nothing,” [Y/N] leaned closer to Regulus and the Slytherin swore he felt his heart stop for a second. Eyes drifting from [Y/N]’s gaze to her mouth, Regulus felt his own mouth get dry as the Hufflepuff whispered in his ear,” just can’t wait till you read what’s on the other side.”

“What?” Regulus’s face paled.

[Y/N] let go of Regulus’s hand as she jumped off the bed and threw her bag over her shoulder. 

“See you tomorrow in class, Reggie,” [Y/N] smiled as she spun around and began to walk towards the Hospital Wing’s doors. Regulus quickly sat up and leaned over, a mix of panic and confusion drenching his features.

“What did you do, [Y/N]?! What did you write? I told you if you wrote anything stupid—!”

“Oh, calm down, Black!” [Y/N] called from the door,” it’s nothing too ludicrous! Well I mean—all that matters is that it’s funny! Don’t worry about it! Everyone’ll get a kick out of it!”

“Merlin, what did she—?” Regulus tried and failed to raise his leg,” [Y/N]? [Y/N]! Hey! Get back here! Tell me what you wrote! [Y/N]!”

----

here’s a Snadger :) and yes, reader wrote the snadger and drew hearts around it as well

[kats-baku1999]

Touch Starved

Fem!reader is hit with a quirk that makes her unbelievably turned on. Todoroki panics because his friend is in pain and he can’t stand not being able to help. Till you both find a way he can.

Warnings: smut, a lot of smut. a tiny amount of angst at the end.

Todoroki was not sure how it happened, or how he could have even let his guard down. You were patrolling with his father, as a part of your internships. Now he never intentionally meant to be, but he was usually really good about making sure he kept you safe. So when you got hit with a quirk from this crazy guy who was running around, making a mess of things, he hated himself.

It was evident that you were in pain, but he just didn’t know how or why. So he sat on the other side of your room. You were whimpering every so often, and thrashing about. Anytime that he would ask if you were okay, he would be met with a loud whine. Recovery Girl said that you would be fine within a few hours, once the quirk wore off. She was extremely awkward about it though, hurrying off quickly.

Another whine, and Todoroki bit back the frustration that was threatening to spill over. He wasn’t one to cry, but this might do it for him. You were his best friend, and saw the best in him before even Midoriya did. Todoroki couldn’t help but also see more to you. The way your laugh filled a room, the way your hand felt against his arm, and how exceptionally talented you were. Overtime Todoroki found himself falling for you, at least he thought that’s what those feelings were.

There had to be something he could do to help. Todoroki stood up and walked across the room. Kneeling down next to your bed. He wasn’t sure what came over him, but he brushed his hands across your sweaty forehead. This earned him another loud moan, but this time it was filled with lust.

“Shoootoo,” You whining his name did something to him that he wasn’t even sure how to explain. As if his left side had taken over his entire body.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Todoroki panicked, his hands frozen. Shocked when you sat up so you were face to face with your best friend. You leaned in, and began kissing his neck softly. Todoroki froze, no really he shot ice out of his right hand, that landed on the wall behind your bed. Soon enough you made your way to his ear, catching his earrlobe between your teeth and giving it a slight tug.

“Shoto, please I need you so bad,” You moaned in his ear, and another shiver ran down his back.

“Y/N this isn’t you, this is just from the attack,” Todoroki stumbled over his words as your hands slipped through the collar of his shirt, and you dug your nails into his upper back. This caused him to let out a low moan, a sound unfamiliar to both of you, but a sound you wanted to hear again.

“Shoto Todoroki you listen closely,” You mumbled, finally breaking away from him. Only to start removing your clothes, starting with your shirt, revealing a light grey bra holding your breasts in place, “I have thought about you pinning me against the floor in the training room, and fucking me till I screamed so loud my voice was gone,”

You leaned your back against the ice that was beginning to melt down your wall. Moaning at the cold sensation against your hot skin. You slid your sweatpants off, showing him a pair of lace, blue, underwear, that left nothing to the imagination. Hell they were practically just a string. Shoto felt himself grow harder when you moved them to the side, moaning as you traced the outer folds of your most delicate area.

“Do you know how many times I’ve wondered if you would just put a bit of ice on your finger, and touch me just like this?” You moaned, enjoying the sensation of him watching you explore yourself, “So tell me Icyhot, are you just going to keep watching or should I go grab Bakugo to see if he will fuck me?”

That was all it took, the thought of anyone else seeing you like this. Todoroki snapped and moved inhumanly fast onto the bed. He snatched your hand away from your heat, holding both your hands above your head. Before he finally kissed you. His lips were soft against yours, the thing that threw you off though was the fact one side was colder than the other and the other was burning hot. Apparently he couldn’t regulate his temperatures as much when you had him this distracted.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth, and you moaned as the two of you began fighting for dominance. Todoroki won of course, but he also secretly hoped you would have. His hands released yours, and you instantly went to ripping his shirt off of his. Raking your nails up and down his chest, as one hot hand and one cold hand explored your body.

“God Shoto as much as I am loving this foreplay if you don’t fuck me soon I am going to lose it,” You moaned into his ear, and practically turned him feral. Becoming even more turned on at how intense he was, and how out of control he was. Something so completely out of character for him.

“You’re sure?” He whispered as he slid out of his pants and boxers, then went back to tracing his cold finger up and down your soaking wet core. You let out a moan, nodding your head frantically.

“I’m not doing anything until you say yes,” He whispered, and you let out a frustrated groan.

“Fuck Todoroki yes, please just fuck me,” You begged him, and he happily began to oblige.

He lined up to your entrance, and slowly began to slide inside your warm folds. Both of you letting out collective moans at the sensation. Your hands instantly found his shoulders again, digging your sharp nails into them, enough to where you were sure your drew a bit of blood. Once he was bottomed out inside of you, he sat for a moment. Enjoying the feeling of your body trying to stretch to him, and adapt to him being inside of you. Which you were sure would never happen, you didn’t get a chance to take a full look at his cock, but judging by how full you felt right now... He was beyond average.

“Are you ready for me to move?” He whispered, clearly trying to fight back a moan at you clenching around him. Maybe it was the quirk, but just him being inside of you was about to push you over the edge.

“Yes, please Sho, and just keep going,” You moaned out, feeling yourself clench around his length this time. He moaned along with you, before slowly beginning to thrust in and out. That was all it took to push you over the edge the first time, your body practically convulsing against him as you arched forward. Todorki grabbed your head board, not realizing that he was slightly burning it.

“Fuck Y/N,” His voice was even lower and raspier than before, “I’m going to start moving again,”

You nodded frantically, giving him the okay. This time his thrusts weren’t slow and gentle. No, now he was going at a faster pace, clearly needing to chase his high after that. You could feel the tension building up inside of you again, which sent loud moans out of your mouth. Todoroki’s hands were frantically grabbing at anything and everything, including you. You could smell the fabric of your sheets lightly being cinged. Which made sense because you were sure your skin was red where he had touched you too.

“Fuck, Sho, I am so close again,” You moaned out, and he picked up his pace.

“I am too Y/N, don’t hold back,” Todoroki groaned, leaning down so his face was in your neck.

His rhythm was growing sloppy, but still a bit rough. Your moans began to sync together. Both of you finally taking in the entire moment. His hand found yours and intertwined your guy’s fingers together. Soon enough you were falling over the edge again, and he was right there with you. Moaning in complete unison.

He laid there for a minute, growing soft inside of you. His face buried in your neck. Eventually he lifted himself up, and pulled himself out of you gently. Todoroki stood up and looked in horror at the mess you two had made. You laid there, staring at the ceiling. Trying to register what had just happened.

“You’re going to need new sheets,” Todoroki sighed, sliding his sweatpants back on. He wasn’t even registering that you were slowly beginning to cry. Worried that you had just ruined your entire friendship with him.

“I’m so sorry,” You choked out, sitting up and frantically rushing over to pull on a hoodie. Your hands shaking too much to even focus. Todorki stood in shock, trying to understand why you were crying.

“Y/N?” He sighed, walking up behind you, “I am still a work in progress on this whole process emotion thing,”

“I shouldn’t have made you do that,” You sobbed turning around to face him.

“Make me?” Shoto began processing it all, “L/N you didn’t make me do anything,”

“What?” You sniffed, shocked at his use of your last name. It had been awhile since he had been so formal.

“Everything I just did, I wanted to do,” He grabbed your face with his hands, “I wanted you too Y/N, maybe I expected to have to do more research on first dates first,”

“You were doing research?” You chuckled, as he swiped a tear off my cheek.

“You deserve perfection Y/N, and I plan on giving you just that.” Todoroki leaned down and kissed you gently again.

This was just the start of something oddly beautiful.

[yandere--stuck]

Yandere!Springtrap x Reader Headcanons

💛 You had always been interested in animatronics, ever since you were young. Ironically, it had started with your visits to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria as a child. In spite of all the urban legends and rumors attached to the franchise, you only had fond memories of the place, especially the animatronics. You couldn't recall what your original favorite of the bunch were, but as you got older, your interest turned more toward the original animatronics from the older establishments. And that's why you had been so excited about the new Fazbear Frights attraction! If the forums were right, the people running it had actually gotten their hands on one of the originals! Either Fredbear or SpringBonnie for sure! You couldn't wait to see it…!

🐇 … But, then the attraction burned down before it had even opened. And now here you were, sneaking under police lines to see if there was still a chance you could see it, to capture at least one piece of your childhood again - hell, maybe you could even salvage some merch, or maybe even a part of the animatronic!... If it hadn't been completely lost in the fire. You skilled around the building, brushing against the charred remains of the building, suddenly regretting all of your life choices, when you spot it - nearly making you jump as you spotted a slumped over figure just out of periphery. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears as your vision adjusts. Your mouth drops open - you can't believe it. It's him! It's him!!! SpringBonnie! God, maybe even the original SpringBonnie! You immediately rush over to the animatronic, smile beaming, kneeling down to look over the bot. He's busted up, broken, burnt (and, God, it reeked, too), but was still somehow all in one piece, and in pretty good condition for something that survived a fire! Glancing to the side of the building, it looked as though there was once a window there - as though something had pushed the SpringBonnie out. Perhaps to save it? Recovering from the adrenaline pumping through you, you shrugged and began dragging the bot back to your car. You'd always wanted one of them, but never had enough money to buy one off one of those auction sites! And… You swear you hear breathing besides your own as you drag the poor bot, but try your best to write it off as your imagination.

💛 And you certainly had not expected to wake up face-to-face with a large rabbit animatronic that was practically falling apart at the scenes. Because it shouldn't be able to stand or walk or - or stare into you with big, sad eyes and croak out, "Help…" You screamed and shot out of bed, trying to press yourself against the wall opposite to it, too afraid to consider running for the door or taking your eyes off the machine. The SpringBonnie turned slowly, seemingly groaning in pain, reaching out for you, but didn't move from his spot. Slowly, he managed to calm you, promising he wouldn't hurt you, soothing you enough to hear his story. Apparently, he had been someone who had worked at one of the Fazbear Establishments. The poor dear had almost been killed - beaten and stabbed and forcibly stuffed into one of the SpringBonnie suits, with the springlocks having gone off, sealing him inside the suit. It was a miracle the poor thing was even alive. You immediately started to pull out your phone, but he stopped you - he had spent so long inside the suit that he had forgotten so much of who he was before, and a bit of his mind had picked up some of the AI within the robot. He was no longer the man he used to be, so there wasn't much any hospital or authorities could do for him.

🐇 Even as you tried to care for "Springtrap" (as he called himself), you still asked if he was sure he didn't want to see a hospital or somewhere that could help him, but he refused. Springtrap admitted, trembling (probably out of both pain and fear) that he'd be thought a monster, or killed, or even worse, his would-be killer would find out and return to finish the job. Of course, he was terrified - you would be, too, in his situation. So, you figured if he couldn't be convinced to go now, you could somehow manage to change his mind later. For now, you chose to focus on cleaning him up and making him comfortable. Apparently, he couldn't expose the suit to water, so you made the best of the limitations you had and made sure to be careful of the springlocks, cleaning him carefully (and trying not to gag as you saw the exposed muscle and flesh beneath). The final product was a big improvement, and it must have made Springtrap happy to be some semblance of clean. You helped him to the couch and made sure he was comfortable - and together, you talked for hours, about what had happened to Springtrap, who you were and what you had been doing upon finding him, everything Springtrap had missed over the years…

💛 You had originally considered eventually convincing Springtrap to go somewhere for professional help, but… God, he just got so scared whenever something like that came up in conversation… But, it was also out of selfishness. You couldn't help but kick yourself for it, but you had grown attached to Springtrap. You didn't want him to leave. It had been so lonely before you found him, but now you had someone who genuinely appreciated you and your company, who liked being around you, loved it actually, who you found you could talk to about anything. It made you feel so guilty, especially as you felt your feelings becoming more and more… Romantic. So you tried your best to make up for it, making him a special meal (turns out he somehow doesn't need to, or can't, eat), getting him the softest and fluffiest pillows to rest on, being there for him, practically coming at his beck and call, buying him painkillers so that he can feel something besides pain. You just felt like you needed to make it up somehow, even if Springtrap said you had done more than enough. 

🐇 One night, you had finally confessed to him. William - though, he had gotten used to being called "Springtrap", he loved the way it rolled off your tongue - had been laying against you, head resting against your stomach. Oh, poor darling, you had been so guilty and conflicted - and Springtrap relished in it, grinning darkly under his mask. And he confesses back, of course. How could he not fall for you? His little hero, his savior. So sweet, so kind, so trusting. So loving. He had learned to love from you… But, he was still William Afton. He could not share, and he loved being in control. He hadn't even felt this way with his own wife. You were special. You were his. All his! So, he lies. He says he was a poor victim of some serial killer (Ha! If you had any idea just how wrong that was…), matching up with the rumors surrounding Fazbear Entertainment. Saying that he had lost his memory had added additional pity, and part of him thought he had gone too far with the whole "part of me has become one with animatronic" thing, but you were just so adorably naive and ate it right up! It was truly precious. You were lucky you had found him, he'd take care of anyone who tried to manipulate you… Well, besides himself, of course. It was so easy to make you feel obligated to help him, to feel like you were inherently selfish… To make you love him, to love him like he loved you. And he does, and he told you as such. He struggled to pick himself up and press the snout of his mask against your lips, nuzzling against you. Oh, how he loved you so… Underneath his mask, William chuckles as he thinks to himself, That was easier than I thought it would be.

[ragingbookdragon]

To Be Human--To Be Alive

Hal Jordan x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.5 Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Death, Angst

Author's Note: I've been listening to Calum Scott's "Biblical" on repeat since it came out and I thought about this. Enjoy! -Thorne

********************************************************************************

Hal Jordan was no stranger to pain. He’d felt it all: emotional, psychological, physical, mental, the list goes on and on, up and down, left and right, every which way until the end of time. That being said, he still wasn’t used to being thrown into concrete walls by meta-humans who had strength equivalent to Superman’s.

He rolled onto his side, feeling his broken ribs shift beneath his skin, and groaned, trying to find the will in him to get to his feet. All he had the strength to do was look over at Barry who was busy getting his own ass handed to him by another meta-human who seemed overly fond of freezing his feet.

A sinister laugh came from above him and Hal turned his head, eyes widening as he saw the meta-human standing before him a slab of concrete raised in his hands.

“Oh fu—”

He saw it before he heard it. The meta-human’s head intact one second and exploding into a hundred shards of brain matter and bone, some of it splattering across Hal’s suit and face. The concrete slab fell behind the meta-human and then he went to his knees, body pitching forward to land beside Hal’s feet.

The echo of the gunshot was enough to gather the other’s attention and her eyes had barely widened before another shot echoed across the street and her head exploded too, body falling beside Barry.

The two superheroes scrambled to their feet, and Hal was already forgetting about his broken ribs, willing constructs to life in order to provide protection for him and his best friend. Whoever killed the two enemies wasn’t firing anymore, but Hal wasn’t going to take any chances.

Green Lantern. Flash. Come in.

Barry skidded a stop beside Hal who shifted his hand, making the constructs combine into one giant wall; he put his free hand to his ear. “We’re here, Batman.”

What just happened? The life signs of your targets just went offline.

Hal looked to his friend whose blue eyes were wide, equally shocked about the turn of events. “Uh…about that…”

What happened?

“Batman, we’ve got a sniper somewhere in the range of our local. Took down both meta-humans within seconds of each other.”

Deceased?

Hal glanced behind him at the freezing meta-human’s corpse, a giant pool of blood growing from the spurting arteries. “Well, they don’t have heads anymore, so, yeah. They’re deceased.”

Understood. Superman’s coming in for protection.

The line clicked and Barry looked at Hal. “I think we should move. If that sniper’s still in the area, we shouldn’t be hanging around waiting to find out.”

Hal let the speedster pick him up, speeding down an alley away from the street so they’d be out of the line of sight. “What type of gun do you think they used?”

Barry shrugged, setting Hal down. “I don’t know. Normal rifles don’t do that much damage, even from that distance.” He didn’t even want to look out the alley way. “That had to be a high caliber rifle.”

“You think they’re a friendly?”

“Hal, they just blew off two people’s heads. That doesn’t seem friendly to me.”

He shrugged. “Well yeah, but they didn’t blow our heads off so…” he tipped his head side to side. “Seems like they were helping.”

Barry glowered at him. “Blowing people’s heads off isn’t helping superheroes. It’s vigilantism gone dark.”

“Sheesh, you sound like Spooky with that attitude.” Hal griped, turning with a new construct when a flash of red appeared in their visions. He lowered it when he realized it was Superman. “Supes!”

“Are you two okay?” Superman asked.

“We’re fine,” Barry replied. “The bullets came from the right. If I had to take a guess, it would’ve been the parking garage in the distance.”

Clark shook his head. “I checked. There were no signs of scuffing from a gun stand, or GSR around the area.”

“So, where’d they fire from?” Hal questioned and Clark nodded towards the street.

“Somewhere farther than just this street.” He glanced at them. “Whoever it was is gone now. C’mon, Batman’s getting a statement ready for the local PD.” He flew off, leaving Hal and Barry standing beside one another, more confused than anything.

***

Calling in late to work had never been Hal’s thing. Honestly, as lazy as he was sometimes, he loved his job. Loved the thrill of getting up in the air, loved feeling the shock sending him into his seat as he broke the sound barriers in the sky. Scrounging around parking garages and abandoned buildings for a ghost-shooter wasn’t his idea of a good day.

So far, he’d searched at least three abandoned buildings in the area, each coming up empty, and the last one showed the exact same signs. He sighed, letting the construct fade. Even the ring couldn’t make heads or tails with any of the evidence around him. Whoever their shooter was, was practically a specter. Hal had no idea how someone managed to shoot two meta-humans down that fast and then leave just as quickly, escaping both Barry and Clark’s abilities.

Hal had seen people killed before. Had even done the same a few times, even up in the air on combat missions and in his suit when he had no other choice. But seeing someone’s head burst like a watermelon hitting concrete right in front of his very eyes was something completely different. A different level of fear that there was someone out there ready to do the same to him, and all it would’ve taken was a random whim and a finger pulling a trigger. But it was like he told Barry—whoever their shooter was, wasn’t shooting to kill them, they were helping.

He drew his eyes along the wall of the empty room, finally resigning himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to find whoever it was that had helped them; with that, he sighed, letting his shoulders droop—he was going to lose fifty bucks to Barry because of this.

“Giving up so soon?” Hal spun around, coffee eyes wide as he scanned the room around him. “I’m surprised Green Lantern showed up. I was expecting Superman or Batman.”

“Who said that?” he questioned, spinning in a circle.

“Who or what?”

“What?”

“Who.”

Hal growled. “Quit screwing with me.” Apparently, they already knew who he was, and he let the green suit flash to life. “Show yourself.”

“Why should I?” they asked in return. “I saved your life.”

“You blew off two people’s heads.” He retorted.

“Should I have let the metas crush you and freeze off Flash’s legs? And here I thought you wanted to live and let your best friend be safe.”

“Killing people isn’t always the answer.” Hal said, turning around again and then he saw it, the glimmer of what looked like a tactical cloak. He pointed to the corner of the room and let a construct come alive. “Show yourself.”

The glimmer appeared again, and then something booted down and he watched as the tactical cloak faded, leaving a woman in its place, sitting up against the wall, one leg stretched out, the other pulled up near her chest, her elbow resting on her knee—and a big sniper rifle was resting against her chest, barrel pointing up towards the ceiling.

She was decked out in some kind of cyber armor that Hal could only describe as futuristic, solid black with purple electric currents running through the slots where the plates of her gear met, mainly down her shoulders and arms, and down the sides of her chest to her ribs to her feet.

“What’re you doing here, Green Lantern?” she inquired, the mask she wore muffling her voice enough that it wouldn’t give identification; her visor was darkened too. “Shouldn’t you be in the air, flyboy?”

Hal tipped his head curiously. “You know who I am?”

She nodded. “I do. And who Batman and your friends are.”

“How?” Batman’s identity was practically unidentifiable unless he told someone.

“Government databases as well as a hacked encryption into the Justice League computers.” She seemed awfully nonchalant as she shifted and rose to her feet, slinging the rifle to her backs. Even when Hal aimed the construct at her, she didn’t seem phased. “Why are you here?”

He blinked. “I wanted to find you.”

“What for?”

“Well…I’ve got a bet riding on finding you, but I also wanted to see where you’d shot from.”

She eyed him momentarily then gestured him over to the window; he stood beside her, and she pointed down the street. “I shot from here.”

Hal’s eyes almost bulged out of his head—he couldn’t even see the street they’d been on. “That’s gotta be at least eighteen hundred meters. Maybe farther.”

“Fifty caliber rifles are built for long range.” She merely replied. “I heard the commotion when the JL got into the city. Then I heard you and Bartholomew Allen getting beat down and decided to level the playing field.”

“How’d you hear commotion that far away?” he asked, and she tapped the side of her head.

“I’ve got enhanced senses. But the detection cameras around the city help too.”

Hal looked at her, watching as her eyes were darting around the street, like she was trying to work a strategy in her head; it reminded him of Barry. “Are you some kind of super soldier?”

She nodded. “I was. Designation Spectre.” Her head turned and she met his eyes. “I was created for covert military operations.”

“You mean assassinations?” he mused, and she nodded.

“Amongst other things, yes.”

“So, if you’re a military toy, why are you here?”

Something shifted in the air and Hal shivered. “Because when they cut the operation, they started hunting down all the soldiers. I went AWOL before they got to me.”

“You’re on the run?” Hal was sympathetic to her, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. “I can help you. Come to the Watchtower with me and we’ll see about setting you up with us.”

Her head turned again, this time staring at the hand gripping her shoulder; he didn’t seem to get the hint because he squeezed her arm. “You mean come to the government regulated superhero operation? That one?”

He winced. “Okay, maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing I could’ve said.” He pulled away. “But we can protect you. Or at least get you to safety away from any enemies.”

She grunted quietly. “There’s a lot of enemies after the bounty on my head.”

“How many?”

“Well, Deathstroke’s been a recurring figure.” She rolled her shoulder and turned around, walking away from the window. “He’s more annoying than dangerous. Like a brown recluse infestation that you just can’t kill.”

“Do you want to come with me though? I can take you directly to the Watchtower and call Batman.”

“I don’t think someone like Batman is going to like someone like me coming into his territory.”

Hal made a face. “Excuse you, the Watchtower is our territory.”

“Yeah, everyone but Wonder Woman is Batman’s bitch.” She bemused. “You just think the place is for everyone.”

“Still waiting on a yes or no.” Hal griped.

“I’m thinking it over.” Then she fell silent for a few moments; she hummed and looked at him. “Alright I’ll go with you.”

Hal cocked a brow. “It took you that long to think about it?”

She scoffed and led him from the room. “Don’t be ridiculous, my mind moves at a speed similar to Bartholomew Allen’s or Bruce Wayne’s.” She glanced at him. “I was looking over the watchtower floor plans in case you decided to collect my bounty and I needed to escape.”

He merely blinked at her and formed a construct outside the building, watching as she climbed in. “Something tells me you’re going to be a handful.”

“Well, I can tell you like having your hands full, Hal Jordan.”

Hal chuckled. “What’s your name?”

“(Y/N) (L/N).”

***Months Later***

Oddly enough to Hal’s surprise, (Y/N) fit right in with the League. She and Barry could talk about forensic science for hours, going into their own little world that only batman knew anything about, and occasionally, the Big Bat himself would involve himself in their discussions. It was the one time Hal thought that Batman was enjoying himself. Of course, Batman also seemed to enjoy training with her.

They’d go for hours on the mat, switching through different forms of martial arts, and Hal and the others kept a betting ring on who would win each match because for all the greatness Bruce Wayne was as Batman, (Y/N) seemed to be the only person who could match him blow for blow and still win sometimes.

Diana loved her, or so she loved the idea that (Y/N) didn’t back down from fights or simply let enemies off the hook. And he understood from listening and learning, that (Y/N) enjoyed Greek literature and culture, prompting the two women to delve into deep conversations over history and stories.

Everyone loved (Y/N). She was like Bruce if he were lethal and was kind. And Hal? Hal wanted nothing more than to take her to dinner, but surprisingly, (Y/N) was either extremely dense or she just didn’t want to date anybody because every time Hal asked her out, she had an excuse. And while Hal backed off when a woman said no, she’d not said no yet, so he was merely wondering if she was waiting it out—something he was going to find out, come hell or high water.

***

He watched as she held the soldering iron in one hand and held up the gauntlet in the other, examining her work before deciding it was decent enough to call it a day. Setting both the armor and the tool down, she stood from her seat and stretched, rolling her muscles, and popping her joints. She didn’t like to be still for long periods of time unless she was doing something, like sitting in a sniper nest or enhancing equipment; he’d learned that the hard way after they were set on global patrol in the Watchtower one night.

“Do you want something?” she asked, not looking at him as she gathered her armor together.

Hal chuckled, walking over to lean against the table. “A few things.”

“Gonna ask me out again?” (Y/N) questioned, putting the gear into a footlocker.

“Finally gonna say no?” he responded, and she stood up, meeting his gaze.

“Do you want a no?”

Hal shrugged. “It’d be easier than having to come up with another excuse for asking you out.”

(Y/N) hummed, walking past him and he followed her as she wandered through the hall of the Watchtower. “So far you’ve asked me out twenty-one times.”

“I’m tempted to make twenty-two, if you’ll say yes.”

She paused and turned on him, giving him an odd look. “Why do you want to go out with me? Aren’t you worried about fraternization?”

“Fraternization is only regulated in the military,” Hal shrugged off. “We’re no longer in the force.”

“That only answered part of the questions.”

Hal reached out, thumbing a smudge of oil off her face. “I’m interested in you.”

“That’s it?” (Y/N) inquired. “You’re interested in me and that’s why you won’t quit asking me out on dates?”

“You’re smokin’ hot?” he offered with a snarky grin, and she rolled her eyes, turning around.

“Every day I’m reminded of why you’re such a skirt-chaser.”

As she walked off, he hurried behind her and grabbed her upper arm. “(Y/N), wait.” She paused and he pulled her around. “Go out with me tonight.”

“Are you asking or telling?” she challenged. “Because the latter isn’t going to fly with me.”

Hal snorted. “It’s a bit of both.” When she cocked a brow, he added, “Go out with me tonight, and if you don’t have a good time, we’ll never talk about it again and I’ll stop asking.”

(Y/N) regarded him a moment. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

She pulled her arm from his grip and spit into her hand holding it out to him. “Shake on it, flyboy.”

Hal pulled a face and grabbed her hand, shaking it firmly, and when (Y/N) pulled back and stalked off, he grimaced and wiped his hand down his pants—but he was happy she finally agreed.

***

“It’s been a long time since I had good Cuban food,” she murmured, glancing towards the stars in the sky. “I’d forgotten how good it was.”

Hal looked over at her, folding his hands in his lap. “Before or after the program?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Before…I grew up in an old neighborhood in the suburbs of Jacksonville…there was a Cuban restaurant down the street from my house and we used to go there all the time for dinner.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“My family.”

Something in her tone seemed bitter, but also disheartened and lamenting. “Have you seen them since you came back?”

(Y/N) looked away and muttered darkly, “The government executed them when they couldn’t bring me in.” Her lips pulled down. “I heard that none of my family gave into their demands…they were loyal to me until the end.”

Hal felt his heart sink in his chest. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). That’s horrible.”

She shrugged. “I killed the squad that attacked them…I got my revenge.” Her eyes found his as she looked back over. “What about you? Is your family still around?”

He found it hard to believe she didn’t know even though she knew everyone before she joined. “You don’t know my history?”

“I only know your name,” she responded. “And what little you’ve shared. Well…little is for Batman, you share an awful amount of yourself with everyone.”

Hal snorted and nudged her in the ribs. “Hey, just tryin’ to be friendly.” She smiled, waiting for him to speak, and when he did, his voice was just as sad as hers was. “I have a big family. Me, my siblings, my mom, everyone else.”

“No dad?” (Y/N) questioned and he looked at his hands.

“My dad died in a plane crash when I was a kid.” He sighed. “I witnessed it.”

“That’s…I’m sorry.”

“I swore I’d never bow down to my fears and when I turned eighteen, I joined the Air Force and followed in dad’s footsteps.” He huffed a breath. “I still get terrified when I fly…always have…but I do it to honor him.” Hal swallowed thickly, feeling warmth in his eyes. “I’ve always wanted to be someone that would’ve made proud.”

A hand touched his and he looked down at it, then to her, eyes widening when he saw tears silently running down her cheeks. “I’m sure your father is looking down on you with pride wherever he is, Hal.”

He couldn’t help but reach over with his free hand. “You’re crying?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Your story is…heart wrenching.” She leaned into his palm. “I feel your pain.”

“I—I can’t believe you’re crying for me though…no one’s ever done that.”

She reached up and wiped a tear that had fallen form his eye; he hadn’t realized it did. “You can cry too, Hal.” (Y/N) smiled sadly. “We might be strong…but we’re still human.” She reached up with her free hand and pulled his hand down from her face, squeezing it in hers. “Cry if you want to, Hal. I won’t judge you if you do.”

Hal didn’t want to cry. Not in front of her at least and he squeezed his eyes shut to keep them at bay. “It’s not manly to cry in front of a woman.”

“Everyone cries, Hal, even men.” (Y/N) leaned forward and took his face in her hands, pressing her forehead to hers. “You are allowed to feel.” He gazed into her eyes, this time not stopping the tears as they gathered in his; she smiled. “Fall to pieces, Hal…I’ll put them all back together.”

“Yeah?” he breathed tearfully, and she nodded, pressing her lips to his.

“Promise.”

Hal pulled from her grip and buried his face in her strong shoulder, and soon his body was shaking with sobs. And (Y/N) merely wrapped her arms around him.

“Let it go, Hal. Fall to pieces, darling.” She whispered, pressing kisses to his skin. “I’ll pick it all up.”

He kept apologizing, “I’m sorry’s” rolling off his tongue with each cry and she merely shook her head.

“Don’t be sorry, darling.” (Y/N) replied, turning her face to his cheek, pressing her lips to his skin. “Be human…be alive, Hal.”

His grip only tightened on her, and he shifted his face so he could see her, and he stared into her eyes, his own big, brown ones saddened, but full of heart and emotion. She threaded her fingers in his hair and smoothed it with gentle stokes and caresses.

He sniffed strongly and croaked, “The next time we go out, can we forgo the emotional moment?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and kissed him. “Sure, Hal.”

[luvteez]

bassists do it deeper

pairing: yunho x genderneutral!reader genre + tags: smut, band au | kink discovery, exhibitionism, a brief segment of semi-public sex, hand kink, size kink, yunho monster cock bc this deserves a tag, power play, switch dynamics (i think??), dom!yunho pulls through in the end, unprotected sex wc: 6.3k

note: big thanks to my fav babie @lustjoong​ for motivating me to combine the two ideas i had for the prompt into one and motivating me to finish this!! here’s my take on the unspoken obligatory yunho size kink fic every ateez smut writer should have written once but make him a bassist. also, the band au to this pwp is literally just there as an excuse to make yeosang the lead singer of the band bc if kq won’t give yeosang lines, i will 

A lot can happen throughout a single weekend, as your English professor suddenly quitting her job, your brother Yeosang almost burning down the kitchen from deep frying an egg, an influx of voicemails in your inbox all sent from Wooyoung, as well as Yeosang’s punk rock band losing a member. It’s a lot to process when all you’ve done is stay the night at Yuqi’s, even harder so when Wooyoung keeps repeating every five seconds that Seonghwa quit the band. (”Why did it have to be Seonghwa who left Stereowave? He was the hottest one!”)

That being said, you expected to come home to a beyond grumpy Yeosang who was trying to find a replacement asap. A band without a bassist sounds empty, and while Stereowave has garnered a big enough fanbase over the years that wouldn’t mind the band continuing as a trio, it just feels wrong. Besides, branding a group consisting of Yeosang the frontman, San the guitarist, Mingi the drummer, and nobody covering the bassist position a band doesn’t sit right.

You were prepared for the worst; a messy kitchen, Yeosang walking around in clothes he wore for five days straight, possibly the outbreak of World War III depending on how shitty he’s feeling. But instead, you find the kitchen exceptionally clean and Yeosang acting as if nothing ever happened.

“Can you help set up the camera? The guys and I wanna film a new song.”

“Uh, sure,” you answer irritatedly. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about finding a replacement for Seonghwa though?”

“Oh, we already have a new bassist,” he waves off casually, “What are you gaping at? Shut that jaw of yours before flies fly into your nasty mouth.”

“First of all, rude.” Yeosang rolls his eyes at that comment. For a split second, you’re contemplating letting him figure out on his own how to use the camera because he’s the walking embodiment of a technology illiterate, but your curiosity about the new band member is bigger. “But how did you manage to find a new replacement so fast? It’s been like, what, a day since Seonghwa left?”

Yeosang sighs. “He’s been thinking of quitting for weeks now, so I had enough time to look for a new bassist. It’s not that big of a deal anyway.”

And this is exactly why you should never get dicked down by your bandmate several times in a month, you think to yourself. Seonghwa and Yeosang thought they were slick, but everyone figured they were more than friends. Needless to say, it was only a matter of time until the strain of their relationship wreaked havoc within the band.

“So,” you say as you two walk to the makeshift studio in the basement, “Is the new guy good? What’s his name?”

The change of topic makes Yeosang relax visibly. There’s a sheepish smile on his face and he replies, “You’ll see.”

You arch a brow. For some reason, that doesn’t settle comfortably in your gut. Then there’s the fact that Yeosang is slightly skipping, and that makes you more concerned than relieved. Because Yeosang barely skips, only when he’s being petty and is planning on pranking somebody. (Most of the time, it’s San.)

The faint vibrations of drums and guitars ring in your ears before you step a foot into the basement. Mingi is the first to acknowledge your presence, immediately dampening the cymbals before waving at you. That causes the other two guys to stop playing their instruments and turn their heads around. You greet San like you normally do, and when your eyes flit to the new addition, all brightness drops from your face.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Yunho cocks his head to the side almost tauntingly, eyes challenging. The corners of his mouth quirk upwards, though more with the intention of saying hah you thought you’d never see me again. “Hello to you too, honey. Looks like fate brought us together once more, eh?”

You blink multiple times to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. To your dismay, they sure aren’t. It really is Yunho standing right next to an utterly confused San, and the bass in his hands just confirms it furthermore.

“Since when do you play an instrument?” you gawk. There’s no fucking way he could’ve had time to pick up music, not when his schedule was already jammed with basketball training and student council activities. Then again, that was his schedule in middle school.

“Since I was fifteen,” he drawls, unaffected by your outburst. “Any other questions, honey? Preferably something along the lines of how have you been? I expected a warmer welcome from you, not gonna lie.”

“What does Yeosang even see in you?” you splutter instead, disgust prevalent in your voice.

“Talent. Believe it or not.”

“Guys, no fighting,” Yeosang warns, but you’re too busy sending Yunho daggers and every pg rated curse under the sun your brain can wrack up.

Meanwhile, San shifts his weight on one leg awkwardly and asks in the background as your verbal dispute continues, “Are they exes or something?”

“Nah, just childhood enemies,” Mingi mumbles, clearly used to your interactions to the point where he’s becoming bored of it. He’s heard all the profanities too many times coming out from the same mouth, hence why he isn’t as disturbed as San is.

“Listen up, you piec—“ 

“(y/n), the camera. Help your older brother out, will ya?” Yeosang cuts you off urgently, the warning tone in his words hard to miss.

“Yeah, help your brother out, shorty,” Yunho snickers. Appalled by his blatant shamelessness, you scowl.

“I’m not that short—!”

“Still shorter than I am, shorty. Or do you prefer honey?”

World War III would’ve broken out right then and there if it weren’t for Yeosang’s death glare — you know, the look he has etched on his face whenever he means business and is willing to go so far and expose all of the nasty mishaps you’ve done in middle school, which is definitely something that should never see the light of day.

“I prefer neither,” you mutter after weighing the gravity of Yeosang’s wrath, avoiding any eyes before you set up the camera. Luckily, nobody further comments on that and eventually, everybody resumes practicing their parts of the songs.

Just in time as Mingi takes another short break to chug his water down, you stumble across a problem. “Uh, Yeosang? You should buy a new camera. This is still usable, but you might have to reset every ten minutes or so.”

A groan leaves him, followed by a shrill guitar riff, and you can see that he’d prefer death over spending money for a new one. “Can’t you just stay here during practice and reset it? You also get to hear some new tracks of the upcoming EP!” That fucker, he’s just too lazy to run forward and press a button every few minutes.

“I have to be on standby for the Block B ticket sale,” you lie. Technically, it’s not really a lie because you do plan on going to the Block B concert with Wooyoung, but 1) the ticket sale isn’t even today and 2) it’s always Wooyoung who buys the tickets. Yeosang doesn’t need to know that though. Any excuse is better than having to sit through practice and see if Yunho is as good as he claims.

Seems like Yeosang desperately doesn’t want to keep running back and forth to reset the camera as he suddenly says, “You can do it here too.” You would argue that the garage has its separate WiFi and only the band members have access to it, but then: “You can use my laptop instead.”

And letting you use his laptop is something he never does. You failed to submit an assignment in time because your own laptop broke down and he didn’t let you borrow his computer for even that.

“Fine,” you sigh in defeat. Yeosang thanks you with a smile so obnoxiously sweet it makes you gag. When all he gets in return from you is the middle finger, his demeanor drops and he mutters something inaudible under his breath, pointing to the small table at the side where all their phones and laptops are lying before he goes back to the others.

Once all four of them are in position and ready to play, you press the record button before flipping yourself onto the old patchwork couch Yeosang bought at a garage sale for only thirty quid a few years back. To your surprise, Yeosang’s MacBook is already unlocked, the default wallpaper of mountains and northern lights quite jarring to your eyes.

When given the rare chance to have unlimited access to your sibling’s devices, it’s self-explanatory what to do. You either a) go through all of their accounts and find as much dirt as possible about them that serves as good material for future blackmail purposes or b) sign them up to as many online subscriptions as possible that will make them go crazy. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work on Yeosang because 1) he doesn’t mind online subscriptions, and 2) he never checks his email account, hence why his inbox is filled with over 2000 mails, a third of them most likely unopened. On top of that, his MacBook is strictly meant for work, so if you really wanted to find out his most embarrassing secrets, your only shot is his phone.

That being said, you’re left with option c) which is checking out Block B’s concert merch since that’s the only sensible thing you can do right now. Forget productivity; that isn’t doable when Yeosang’s deep timbre is blaring in your ears along with the instruments. To be honest, you really enjoy Stereowave’s music and that’s on their music, not because your brother is the lead singer. You’ve enjoyed each of their performances and perhaps you’ve been indulging in the privilege of hearing their new songs first.

But now that Yunho’s involved, suddenly the prospect of having a new favorite band sounds tempting. What was Yuqi’s favorite band again? Day6? You should take a closer look at their discography.

As much as you want to mute the sound, from San’s riffs to Mingi’s drum solo, you fail to do so. One moment you’re opening the search browser, and in the next, your eyes are set on the group. They’re practicing like they usually do; fun etched on their faces as they lose themselves in the music. Yeosang is singing as if he was performing in front of a million viewers while San improvises a solo on a whim. Mingi messes up the beat for a split second after failing to catch his stick and somehow, your eyes have zoomed in on Yunho. It doesn’t take you five seconds to realize:

Yunho is good.

While he might not seem as fired up as the other three, he’s visibly relaxed. Just like Seonghwa, he plays smoothly and isn’t overpowered by the others, but he seems to have an easier time gliding his fingers across the fingerboard. The bassline is easy to filter out, not the generic pattern you can find in every second pop song, yet still compliments the other instruments.

He can play, fair game. However, that’s the least of your worries. You’re more attentive to the ratio of his hands to the bass. His hands are larger than Seonghwa’s by far, no doubt. That makes sense given his height, maybe an inch taller than Mingi. But Mingi doesn’t have that big hands. Doesn’t that mean that Yunho’s body is disproportional?

Before you know it, you drag your gaze from his shoes up to his legs and stop at his hands briefly, only to proceed upwards until you see the cocky smirk and amused eyes directed at you. All clogs in your brain come to a stillstand and despite that, that’s when you realize you’ve been 1) enjoying his music, 2) checking him out, and 3) checking him out and caught red-handed.

It feels as if you were living on the sun instead of on Earth as you burn up in embarrassment. Knowing there’s no way you can deflect what you just did, you quickly turn back to the laptop, the Google search bar staring back at you.

You’re about to type in something when the search history pops up, catching your eyes. A gasp leaves you but it goes under the music, everyone too immersed in their own thing to notice the prevalent horror settling on your face.

exhibitionism

getting off in public

best crowded places to have sex and get away with it

You blink, thinking that your sleep deprivation got the worst out of you and that you’ve finally reached the stage where you start hallucinating. Except, you know you’re not hallucinating. After going through the words again and again, you know that you’re really not fucking hallucinating and that your nonexistent sleep cycle isn’t as bad as Yuqi makes it out to be.

When you said you wanted to dig up dirt on your brother, you didn’t mean it in the form of his kinks. Money can’t buy everything, but how you wish it could so you could unsee that shocking discovery.

Since this is Yeosang’s work computer and he’s signed into his Google account, he must make use of the drive to save a copy of his ideas. It probably won’t amount to anything since he’s the walking embodiment of staying unbothered, but writing him a note on his docs about how he’s made your life worse by not clearing his search history is better than staying silent.

You click on the little icon on the top right corner, expecting to see Yeosang’s name right above the email address. But then you see Yunho’s name instead, and suddenly everything makes much more sense.

This was never Yeosang’s laptop to begin with.

To say you’re at a loss of words is an understatement. There’s no way someone could have as little self-awareness and leave their laptop unlocked, let alone Yunho out of all people. Then again, the last thing you expected from him was to play the bass and blend well with the rest of the band as if he’s always been the bassist of Stereowave and not the newly found replacement.

This is absolutely bonkers. But:

You could have fun with it. Maybe it’s for the better that money can’t buy everything.

Besides dozens of articles about semi-public sex and even a blogpost titled Shagging in Broad Daylight for Dummies, his search history of the last 24 hours consists of many forum links discussing the morality of exhibitionism, conspiracy theories, and hand care guides. You wheeze when you see the private playlist he saved on his YouTube account; a collection of videos about filing your nails properly and the best hand cream brands for dry skin.

Yeosang calls in for a break, and everyone’s grateful for it. San lets out a relieved noise as he places his guitar on the stand before catching the water bottle Mingi chucks at him.

“My arms are beat,” Mingi complains.

San sends him an incredulous look and snorts, “All you do is bang! crash! ppang! while my throat is fucked! And so are my legs!”

“Not my fault if you keep doing your high pitched oows! while jumping around like a— like a cricket!”

“A cricket? Are you serious?”

“I’m tired, okay!”

“Then that means we should call it a day and go home and rest, right?”

“Choi San, I think you’re onto something.”

“Absolutely not,” Yeosang deadpans, causing the bickering duo to pout in sync. “We have lots to do especially since Yunho’s now part of the band.” When all he’s met with is an attempt of cute puppy eyes that rather looks like a bad rendition of any horror movie featuring creepy dolls, Yeosang sighs, “I ordered chicken for dinner and yes, it’s on me.”

In an instant, Mingi and San’s faces brighten up and they’re celebrating as if they won a free cruise to the Bahamas. They don’t hesitate to envelop Yeosang in a bear hug, crushing the life out of him. A chuckle escapes you at the sight of your brother wringing for his sanity. Sometimes you wonder how on Earth those three guys are the same three guys who perform in abandoned warehouses, jamming out their punk rock songs while looking all edgy (in a cool way that has at least half of their fans thirsting after them).

Meanwhile, Yunho drops himself on the other end of the couch. Propping his right leg on the coffee table in front, he digs around in his pockets before pulling something out.

“Since when do you file your nails?” You pointedly raise a brow at him. Although your extensive research on his browser history already answered that question, you ask him just for the sake of it.

“Hand care is important, shorty,” Yunho replies, keeping his eyes trained on his fingers as he works the file around a nail. “If Kageyama Tobio files his nails, I can too. But enough with the small talk, what do you want?”

“I didn’t peg you as an exhibitionist.”

His hand stops moving. Yunho looks up at you, irritation written all over his features. “Because I file my nails...? A bold assumption, honey.”

There’s a reason why Yunho has always gotten away with pretty much everything. He’s a good actor who’s able to feign innocence at any time. His posture is relaxed, voice genuinely sounding flabbergasted that not even your shit-eating grin can throw him off guard.

You can’t, but your proof will do the job.

“I never said it’s because of your hand fixation.” You turn the laptop screen his way and once his eyes flicker on it and decipher the words, his face falls. Gone is the faux-confusion; as all color drains from him, his eyes look like they’re about to fall out of their sockets. “Is it really a bold assumption now, honey?”

Yunho inhales sharply when you scoot closer to him and put a firm hand on his left leg, his laptop now closed and long forgotten. Your fingers are placed too high for it to be friendly, skimming lightly on the inside of his thigh. Yeosang and the others are busy minding their own business but the chance of getting caught in the act is still there. The simple realization has adrenaline running a hundred miles an hour in your veins, and with the way Yunho clenches his jaw — a desperate attempt to fight the groan that’s threatening in the back of his throat — you’re not the only one who’s aroused by the setup.

Slowly, your hand inches closer to his growing bulge. Before you can dare yet another experimental squeeze, Yunho’s hand surges forward and holds your wrist in a vice grip.

“Don’t,” he snarls through gritted teeth, but it sounds sadder than it is intimidating when he’s sporting a boner right in front of your eyes.

You cock your head to the side, almost in a mocking demeanor. “You sure? Think about it, it’s a win-win situation. You get to live out your exhibitionist right here in front of your new bandmates, and I get the confirmation that you’re into it. But if you really don’t want to��” you try to retreat your hand but Yunho doesn’t let you budge, hand still enclosed around yours. That won’t do as an answer.

“Which one is it? Say it, Yunho,” you assert, narrowing your eyes. Yunho looks distraught, feverishly biting his lip while he’s internally fighting with himself, but he eventually chokes out a response.

“As long as nobody notices—”

“You either say you want me to touch you or not. I don’t want any roundabout stories.”

“Touch me,” he whispers defeatedly and the grip on your hand disappears completely. “But I swear to God if anyone realizes what you’re doing— hhnh—!” he cuts himself off with a low moan when you cup him over the material of his jeans.

“Yes yes, I get it. I don’t need Yeosang to know about this,” you dismiss. “And oh wow, you’re getting hard fast when I’m just touching you over your pants.”

“Just get to it.”

The snappish attitude causes you to stop dead in your tracks. “You think you’re in the position to tell me what to do? I can be mean too, y’know,” you start nonchalantly, a stark contrast to the way your heart is shaking in your ribcage. The power you suddenly hold is exhilarating. “I could just leave you like this, and then you’d have to try to cover your situation down there while practice goes on. How would the others react if they only knew your dick is hard? Probably won’t take them too long to find out since standing for a long time can be tiring, hm?”

Yunho’s head lolls back in response as he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. His breathing is uneven and the resulting moan that follows suit makes you smirk. You lightly smack the inside of his thigh, causing another wave of arousal to rupture in him. He chokes out a hushed ‘f-fuck’ and at this point, the constriction around his cock must be bordering painful.

“Who would’ve thought that the big bad Jeong Yunho is actually a submissive bitch who’s hungry for attention?” you ask gleefully, delivering another slap before stroking the area. “Who would’ve fucking thought you were a sub?”

“I-I’m not— shit, s-stop that, hngh— a fucking sub.”

“Yeah yeah, say that to yourself.” You rip your gaze away from Yunho’s flushed face to check if the coast is clear before targeting his fisted hands. He stiffens when you pry his hand open and bring three digits to your lips, sticking your tongue out to give kitten licks to his fingertips before pushing them into your mouth. You hum, suck, swirl your tongue around his fingers, giggling when all he does is stare at you wordlessly, unable to form any coherent thoughts. “See? Not even once have you put up a fight.”

That seems to snap him out of his daze. In an instant, his eyes darken and his jaw clenches.

“Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn’t tease me.”

You snicker, seeing through his bluff. “Wow, I’m so scared. What do you wanna do? Leave practice right now? Drag me to my room and pound me into the mattress?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“You could never, sub.”

Whatever strands of self-control were still residing in Yunho have turned to dust by now. One moment he’s towering over you in full height, looking down on your sitting form in bitter distaste, and in the next, he’s dragging you out of the basement, unaffected by the sudden silence and Yeosang, Mingi and San’s confused expressions.

Once you’re in the living room, Yunho wastes no time crowding you against the wall and crashing his lips against yours. The kiss is a messy clash of teeth and tongues, but it leaves you hot and lightheaded and aching for more. Yunho knows no limits and snakes one arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, the other hand fisting your hair. He tugs harshly and the sharp sting sends all your nerves into a frenzy.

“Bedroom. Now.” The sudden huskiness in his tone catches you off guard and you wonder when his voice has ever sounded so rough. You moan into the kiss, fisting his shirt as you stumble your way to your bedroom.

Yunho pins you against the door once you’re in your bedroom. His lips are addictive, just like the groans he slips in kisses and his hands roaming your body. He gets rid of your clothes until you’re left in your underwear, then forces a knee between your legs to keep them from closing. Your eyes roll back at the friction, growing needier and hotter when he presses his thigh against you harder. 

When you finally pull away, his eyes are hooded and his lips are red and swollen. There’s no trace of inhibitions left in him as he watches you like a predator. With horror, you realize that the tables have turned, and when he easily locks both of your wrists above your head with one hand only, that’s when you know you’re undisputedly powerless against him.

“Who’s the sub now?” he pants, eyes sparkling with glee.

“Still y-you.” The response sounds pathetic to your own ears, but you have too big of an ego to admit it out loud. Yunho doesn’t buy it either if his quirked brow wasn’t telling enough.

“Still in denial, honey? I see. Guess I’ll have to do more then.” His free hand reaches down to tug on the waistband of your underwear, only to let it snap against your skin. The slight sting is enough to render your knees into mush and set fog into your vision. He does it again, and then he actually tugs the fabric down and you finally grab his motives.

“You’re bluffing— y-you wouldn’t put y-your fingers,” you ramble, hyperaware about how dangerously close his fingers are. Just when you think he’s about to shove a digit in, he pulls away completely.

“You know, you keep talking about my hands. It’s always my hands this, my hands that,” Yunho says casually, giving his nails a quick glance before meeting your eyes. “Rather than me having a hand fixation, it’s you who has a thing for hands. My hands specifically.”

You don’t like how every word is true. You don’t want to acknowledge that he’s correct. Verbally, because your body is moving on its own and has betrayed you long ago.

Yunho taps on your bottom lip and you comply reluctantly, letting him shove the same three fingers you sucked before. Mumbling unintelligible words under his breath, he watches intently as you hum around him, eyes fluttering shut when he slowly moves them in and out of your mouth. A whine escapes you when he pulls them out for good, soaked wet with your spit.

“Tell me.” Yunho grins, “Tell me what you like about them. Or else I’ll leave you hanging.” He’s not lying and you know it. The look he sends you is enough proof that he wouldn’t hesitate to leave you high and dry.

You don’t like how he’s stringing you on like a rag doll. You don’t like how he’s stripping you off your dignity step by step. Strangely enough, you feel yourself leaking and wanting nothing but his pretty long fingers inside of you.

“I like how they, agh I— I l-like how—” you stutter, losing all levels of rationality when he suddenly circles around your entrance. Yunho urges you to continue and it takes up all of your brainpower to pick up where you left off, “—they’re so long and big and pretty—”

“So you have a size kink.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Now that, that’s something he shouldn’t have deduced. “W-wha— I don’t!”

“Seems to me that you have one though. You kept stressing how big and bad and tall I was after all.” You stiffen. Did you? Did you really? You don’t recall saying it that many times but it's hard to think straight when Yunho still has your wrists above your head and is looking down at you in a downright patronizing way. It leaves you trembling pitifully, feeling called out and feeling so, so small.

He really wants you to hit your lowest peak because he doesn’t stop there. “Who’s the real sub here? Is it really me? Or is it you who likes feeling so short, small, tiny.” His smirk widens when your breath hitches ever so slightly. “I fucking knew it.”

“You don’t know shit,” you bark back, but to no avail. Your credibility has diminished the moment he caught up to your kinks.

“Say whatever you want but that won’t change the fact that you’re tiny baby,” he pauses, takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he’s giving you a thorough once-over and then enunciates the next syllables with such clarity that forces time to stop, “My tiny, helpless baby.”

The pet name breaks you. It’s the final trigger that takes all your inhibitions away and the pathetic size of an ego that was left in your stubborn head.

“Please,” your voice cracks but that’s the least of your worries. You can’t move, can’t talk back, and won’t get anything in return. Yunho is right in front of you, finding satisfaction in your internal destruction and yet, after all of the things he’s slaughtered you to, he won’t give you anything in return.

“Just a little bit more, baby. I’ll give you what you want if you repeat after me; I’m your—”

“I’m your tiny, helpless baby who desperately wants you to fuck me.” Yunho is mildly taken aback that you were still able to think and get it right before he even finished his sentence. “Now get on to it, Yunho. Please.”

You’re sniffling at this point, begging for any kind of stimulation that shoots you to the stars. You’re fucking sniffling, and that’s all it takes for Yunho to manhandle you on the bed. A gasp escapes you, not expecting this turn of events at all. It all happens in a flash and the next thing you know, you’re on all fours, face buried in the pillow.

“Yunho, I t-thought y-you’d fuck me,” you complain, glancing behind to see what’s taking him so long. Your mouth waters at the sight.

“Patience, baby,” he says as he’s unbuckling his belt, taking his sweet time. You rub your legs together to ease the tension, but you can’t really say you’re not enjoying the show. Yunho’s lean, slightly defined, and once he’s only left in his underwear, you swallow heavily. There’s a large, dark patch on the fabric and the bulge seems more prominent than before.

If your mouth was only watering, you’re drooling by now. Yunho takes off his boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, tip red and oozing precum. Just like the rest of him, he’s abnormally huge.

You have two thoughts. One: Fuck, you want him. Now. Two:

“That’s never going to fit inside of me.”

“Oh it will,” he says with such confidence it gives you shivers. “I’ll pound you into the mattress and you’ll take it all.”

He grabs you by your thighs to pull you closer to him before positioning himself right behind you. “W-wait!” you cry, heart suddenly feeling heavy in your chest, “D-don’t just put it in without prep— o-oh, hnngh—” your body feels like jelly when Yunho presses two spit-coated fingers past your entrance, stretching you out with finesse.

“I’m not that heartless,” he chuckles amusedly, right at the same time he curls his digits right against your sweet spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. “You’re so small you wouldn’t be able to take an inch without prep.”

You only whine into the pillow, arching your back as he continues his ministrations. Once Yunho deems you stretched out enough, he retreats his fingers and replaces them immediately with his cock.

The difference is like night and day. It’s like his fingers didn’t amount to anything compared to this. The high-pitched cry that escapes you is loud as you grasp onto the pillow for dear life.

“How can you be so big?” you pant. There’s no way he’s past four inches deep inside of you. You’re far from being filled, but your walls are already clenching hard around him.

“Bassists do it deeper for a reason.” The innuendo is tacky but in your current headspace, it sounds like the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Yunho stills his hips, letting you get used to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Guh—” he chuckles at your inability to form coherent words, let alone thoughts. “So big.”

“You’ll get used to it, honey.” He leans forward to pet your hair. “Tell me when I can move,” he adds gently, and you swear you could melt right then.

It takes you a moment to get your breathing steady, and then he pushes more of his length inside. Whimpering, you writhe beneath him, feeling as if you’re being torn apart. Meanwhile, he’s breathing hard through his nose, trying his damn hardest to go as slow as possible. At a certain point, Yunho stops pressing for more and pulls out ever so slightly before rocking his hips back forward. It starts out slowly, but he gradually picks up the pace and you lose yourself into him.

“Faster,” you moan, bending your back for an even deeper angle. “Hnngh, so full. Want m-more.”

“You were right, you can’t take me to the hilt.” Yunho readjusts his grip on his hips and you know that bruises are going to last until the end of the week. “God, you’re so fucking small that you can’t take me to the fucking hilt.”

Your vision turns foggy once the meaning gets through you. Now that he’s saying it, how much of his cock is inside of you? Half of it? A third? He’s stretching you out so well, filling you up so impossibly deep and that wasn’t even his everything?

“That’s not— want more of you, all of you,” you stammer, not realizing what you’re even saying. “Baby wants all of you.” God, you’re so drunk and desperate for his cock that you can’t refer yourself in the first person anymore.

Yunho reacts just as perplexed, eyes widening. His hips still once more, and though you’d want to shout at him to keep on moving, you don’t find the energy to move your head, or even lift a finger.

“So fucking greedy,” he growls, pulling out of you completely. Not even a second later, he flips you around on your back so that you’re facing him dead in the eye, and then he pushes back in. The new position has you gurgling on broken words as your arms flail around for dear life.

Yunho throws a leg over his shoulder, creating a deeper angle. You don’t know if he’s actually giving you more if he’s managed to force more of him into you. All you register is the messy squelch of liquids and your moans bouncing off the walls. You can’t even see properly, everything a blur and a mix of different colors.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, sensing your demise nearing closer and closer.

“Then cum,” Yunho orders in between groans, then adds in a louder voice, “You hear that baby? Cum and make a mess out of yourself.”

Your orgasm crashes onto you in a big singular wave as you tremble under his frame, walls clenching around him tightly. His name leaves your mouth like a mantra as you continue to convulse. Yunho pulls out moments later, just to spurt white on your abdomen. His face is flushed and beads of sweat are forming on his forehead while he jerks himself dry.

It’s a miracle that Yunho hasn’t toppled on you once he slowly comes down from his high. The fog in your vision clears up gradually, but your limbs are as good as worthless. You won’t be able to move freely for a good day or two.

As you continue to blink at the ceiling, only finding the energy to breathe, Yunho grabs the box of tissues from your nightstand and wipes himself off before doing the same to you. His touch is gentle unlike before, and you’d thank him if your vocal cords were still functioning.

You’re about to drift to sleep until he suddenly leans down and pecks your lips. In an instant, you narrow your eyes at him and ask, “What was that for?”

“You had some cum on your lip. I wanted to taste too.” Yunho smiles cheekily and runs his tongue against his bottom lip, then grimaces. “It tastes... yikes.”

He cleans you up in silence before plopping onto the bed right next to you. No words are exchanged up until you say, “Yeosang is going to kill you.”

“He can’t afford to kill me. He needs me for the band,” he muses.

“He’ll still kill you.”

“I appreciate the concern, honey.”

“Just scram back to practice.”

“Don’t you want to go to the bathroom first?”

“I can do it myself.”

“Oh really?”

“... Yunho, help me on my legs and then scram back to practice.”

Meanwhile, back in the basement, the guys are waiting for their bandmate to come back so they can finally finish practice and then eat chicken.

“You sure (y/n) and Yunho are only childhood enemies? They’ve been going at it like rabbits if he isn’t back here yet!” San exclaims, throwing his arms up for dramatic effect.

Mingi can’t counter that because San has a point, so he whips his head to Yeosang. “Dude, you sure they’re not in a relationship? They have to be at least fuckbuddies! Or fuckrivals? Fuckenemies? Or…”

“I do not know and I do not care,” Yeosang says blankly, looking like he’s about to bang his head against the wall because he sure won’t walk into your room and curse his eyes for the rest of his life. Damnit, all he wants is to practice and get the band together; their next gig is only a few weeks away. “In fact, I want to unsee what I just saw and unhear what you just said.”

[depressedacadamia]

5 times Leo hit on Calypso as her Barista and one time it worked

Word Count: 3.8K

Summary: Coffee Shop AU! Calypso is running late one day so she ends up going to a coffee shop- what she doesn’t expect is for her barista to be Bad boy supreme

Later on in this fic, they sing this song.

Warnings?: Not much, terrible pick up lines, mainly fluff, making out.

A/N:  This took me so long but alas, here it is! This is kinda my first official fluff and I tried okay. Anyway, enjoy, comment, share, like- you know the drill. <3 from moi!

The 1st Thursday

Calypso was not happy with the line she was waiting in. She was running late and thus was at a coffee shop- somewhere she preferred not to go. The weather was terrible, grey skies as well as heavy rain that had Calypso drenched. The stupid forecast hadn’t predicted the rain and thus she had left her apartment without an umbrella nor raincoat. 

The coffee shop was small but cute, she had to admit. The staff seemed small but efficient and within a few minutes, Calypso found herself at the front of the line, face to face with a boy with rich dark tan skin and the most dazzling smile she had ever seen. He had long dimples and his dark curly hair would flop over his face in a cute manner.

“Hi, Welcome to Steamy Beans Coffee. I’m Super sized Mcshizzle and I will be taking your order today, do you have your order ready?” He looked up at the girl in front of him and immediately, his lips stretched into a lazy and goofy smile. She frowned at the nickname but internally she wanted to laugh, even his name badge read Super Sized Mcshizzle- Who called themselves that?

“Can I get a cappuccino with 2 espresso shots, please.” She reached into her bag to pull out her purse while the boy at the counter hummed and tapped at the machine in front of him.

“What kind of milk?” He looked up again, cheekily smiling as if he had something planned.

“Uh, almond is fine.”

“And your name?” He asked, pulling out a marker. Before she could answer, he cut in.

“Does your name start with a C-”

“-Actually it doe-” 

 “-Because I can C us together.” 

Calypso resisted the urge to smile and instead raised an eyebrow at the horribly cheesy pick up line. Despite this, she was a bit impressed- Her name did technically start with a C.

“Calypso. That’s my name,” She told him as she walked away from the counter and sat at one of the stalls, waiting for her name to be called out. 

The 2nd Thursday

Somehow, Calypso found herself queuing outside the same coffee shop the next Thursday. Whilst she told herself it was because the coffee was perfect, it was truly to see the brown haired grinning boy who had served her last week. Pick up lines weren’t really her poison, but he wasn’t creepy and even she had to admit it- He was cute. 

As the queue grew shorter, she grabbed her purse ready to pay. She had subconsciously chosen to wear better clothes and style her hair today. Was it a stupid decision to wear white when drinking coffee? Absolutely. But Calypso was 100% willing to take the risk. 

“Hi, welcome to Steamy Beans Coffee. I’m Bad Boy Supreme and I will be taking your order today, do you have an order ready?” The boy looked up, with his hair flopping about. He had rolled his sleeves up and Calypso, who wasn’t about to get caught, quickly averted her eyes elsewhere. She noticed that his name had changed- so had his badge. Did he have a collection of these names? She’d have to ask him next time.

Oh, so there will be a next time, huh? She asked herself. 

Shut up. 

“Oh. Calypso, right? Same as last time?” He asked as he hovered his finger over the machine.

“Oh, yeah. Cappuccino please.” 

As she waited for her name to be called out, she pulled out her sketchbook and started sketching the cute barista. From his elf like ears to his slanted chocolate eyes and the funny curl that went in the complete opposite direction of his hair earning him a messy hair look. It was only a basic sketch but it had outlined him. 

“Cappuccino for Calypso?” a familiar voice called out. She was slightly surprised to find her Barista also handing off her coffee but she also quite flattered. Or maybe she was just overthinking this. He could easily just have switched around for a friend- it can’t have been just for her.

“Thanks,” she murmured as she reached into her purse, trying to find the appropriate change in her purse. 

“You and I are like nachos with jalapeños. I'm super cheesy, you're super hot, and we belong together.” The pick up line rolled off his tongue as he leant over the counter separating them. He had a smirk that made Calypso immediately lose her strong front and spill her change all over the counter.

“What?!” she sputtered as her eyes darted to the change. She managed to scoop most of it into her arms without looking too much like a fool. She quickly grabbed her coffee and made her way out of the shop as fast as she possibly could, hoping she didn’t look as ridiculous as she thought she did. 

The 3rd Thursday

“You don’t understand, last time the pick up line was creepy. She probably thinks I’m a weirdo now!” Leo groaned as he slammed his head on the counter beside his friend Will who always worked the same shift as him. Unfortunately, Will did not get to witness what Leo kept on describing as ‘a catastrophe’. 

“She won’t come in today, I bet. Ugh, I really screwed up.” 

“It really can’t have been that bad!” Will argued, dragging Leo by the arm to the front counter. 

“I said You and I are like nachos with Jalapenos. I’m super cheesy, you’re super hot and we belong together.”

Will cringed. “Okay, that is bad.”

Calypso could not believe she was coming back to the coffee shop. The previous pick up line was terrible, in fact it was almost as bad as the ‘I’m here, what are your other two wishes’ pick up line that a creepy person had used on her earlier but in all honesty it wasn’t the barista that was the problem. It was the fact that she could not crush over someone with pickup lines as bad as those. This time, she had decided to use her card to pay so she wouldn’t have to deal with spilt change everywhere. 

“Hi, welcome to Steamy Beans Coffee. I’m Commander tool Belt- that’s because my major is engineering and I fixed the old coffee machine- how can I help you?” The curly haired boy in front of her said miserably while slumped behind the counter with his face practically leaning on the machine.  

“I was hoping for the usual?” Her meek voice came out questioning. Leo’s head shot off the counter, almost slamming into the machine. 

“Wow… uh cappuccino again?” 

“Yep…” she searched for something to say. “So engineering major huh?” 

“Mhmm. I like making things I guess. What about you?” 

“Natural sciences. I was going to do art but I guess plants and animals are more of my poison.” She shrugged. 

“You can draw?” he asked, his voice peaking interest and turning around slightly. 

“Yes, why do you sound so surprised at that?” 

He batted his hand. “Oh nothing, just something we have in common.” He then winked and Calypso had to do everything she could to not react. She stood in front of the counter, waiting for her coffee but saw that her barista was screwing his eyes up and writing something on a cup. She wanted to pull out her sketchbook and draw the cute face he was pulling, leaning back and holding the cup in front of him as if it were an invention he had never seen. 

“Cappuccino for Calypso!” A sing-song voice that could only be her barista called out. She had to admit, his voice was not bad. In fact, it was quite impressive and it had a nice harmonious tune to it. 

“Thank you…” she said in a suspicious tone, as she swiped her card over the contactless payment machine. Her barista was suspiciously silent and she had yet to hear a terrible pick up line. He had a mischievous smile as if he had set something on fire and not told anyone anything about it. As she picked up her coffee, she noticed a lot more black marker on the cup and held it away from her face to read it.

Are you made of Copper and tellurium? Because you are CuTe.

She wanted to face palm at such a classic science pun but she was also impressed that he knew elements of the periodic table so easily. She let out a small laugh to let him know that she had noticed the pick up line before she took a small sip and smiled. 

The 4th Thursday

“I’m telling you, she actually laughed at the line! That’s a good thing right?” Leo asked as he put on his apron. 

“And I’m telling you, if you want her to go out with you, hit her with a star wars pun,” Will ugred while tying his apron behind his back.

“You’re obsessed with star wars.”

“Hey, it worked for me and Nico!” Will pointed out as they made their way to the counter.

“Sun boy, we all know you and Mr Debbie Downer did not get together over Star Wars pick up lines,” Leo argued. 

Calypso was running late. She hated being late. It was like slowly ticking off the boxes for panic 101. She was wearing mismatched socks, had the wrong books for class and the laces of her shoes were untied. At least the line was significantly shorter than usual and while normally that would have made Calypso question the occasion, she was too much in a rush to truly care.

As she ran in, she tripped over her laces and almost fell had it not been for the arms of the person in front of her. As she looked up to find her saviour, she found herself face to face with the curly brown haired boy who today wore the badge of ‘Admiral Leo’.  She thought Leo was a nice name and it suited him very well- much better than any other name would have.

“Hey, tie your shoes!” he scolded her and she was surprised by his concern over her safety. Alas, she had spoken too soon, 

“I don’t want you falling for anyone else.” he murmured, his lips right by her ear and his hot breath making goosebumps form all across her neck. He then reached down onto his knees, and did her laces. However, she noticed the manner he did them were different to how she would normally do them. 

“You know that’s how children do their laces, right?” Her hands rested on her hips as he gasped dramatically and held his hand over his heart. 

“Are you calling me a child?” 

Before she could say yes, he cut her off.

“The answer is I totally am a child because that means I can eat off the child menu,” He grinned foolishly. “Life hacks with Admiral Leo!” 

The 5th Thursday

“I’m telling you Leo- Make the Star Wars pun. Please! For me, do it for me!” Will begged as he tied Leo’s apron for him. Leo was reluctant to go with a Star Wars pun. He didn’t know if Calypso would get it or if she was into nerdy stuff like that but he was running out of ideas. He hadn’t gotten any terrible sparks of inspiration and the Star Wars inspired pun that Will had told him couldt go too badly?

Nervously, Leo waited behind the counter, his hands tapping as if he had just slapped on a nicotine patch and then glugged 6 espresso’s. In other words, Leo was anxious. If he just made the drinks without thinking about it, he could get his mind off it but when he started remembering that she may walk in at any moment, he could feel his hands shake and his stomach begin to churn. 

Calypso was very happy. She had no classes today, no research studies to deal with and she had even managed her time well enough to hang out with a friend before heading towards her newly found and now favourite coffee shop. She knew it was it because of a certain curly haired and cheekily grinning boy. 

“Hello, welcome to Steamy Beans Coffee, I’m Flaming Valdez- don’t ask please- how can I assist you today?” He once again looked up and when seeing Calypso, he recited her order before the words could come out of her mouth. 

“Cappuccino with 2 espresso shots and almond milk?” 

Calypso, a bit shocked, nodded. She could feel small butterflies forming in her stomach thinking about how Leo had memorised her order. 

Stop being silly. He probably memorises every regular’s order. 

 “Soo… Flaming Valdez… what’s the story behind that?” She asked, despite his warning. Leo tipped his head back and let out a throaty laugh that had Calypso tingling all over- How can a person have such a gorgeous laugh? How can someone look so good while laughing? 

“Oh, that’s a good story. Every year, we celebrate the owners birthday by having the shop to ourselves. No customers, just the staff chilling. Anyway, so it’s like 9pm and we’re all meant to be out because it was sunset an hour ago but instead we’re still in the shop. Everyone’s gathered right out there because your boy, Flaming Valdez, brought in Roman candles!” Leo pointed to the chairs and tables outside the shop.

“Roman candles?” Calypso asked, a tad confused. Her face scrunched up a bit and Leo almost died from how cute her face looked.

“They’re like fireworks. There’s a slight difference with how the shell explodes compared to fireworks and they are a much more traditional version of fireworks but…” He trailed off when he noticed Calypso’s confused face- he just managed to remember that she wasn’t a nerd like him and didn’t study fireworks in her freetime. 

“Anyway, Will has the red ones and I have the green ones and so we literally start shooting them at each other like we’re re-enacting Harry Potter or something!”

“What! Can’t someone get set on fire from that?”

“Well yeah actually, they can. Will shoots one at me, sparks at my hair and sets it on fire. I’m running around trying to stop my burning hair while everyone is laughing. The crowd started cheering ‘Flaming Valdez’ and since then, they’ve adopted me that name. I’ve tried to get them to change it but it seems to stick,” he laughed while making her coffee. 

“Yeah, I think I’ve seemed to notice. Super sized Mcshizzle, Bad boy supreme, Commander tool belt, Admiral Leo and today- Flaming Valdez.” She listed all the names he would wear on his badges off her fingers. However, that may have been a mistake because when she looked up, she saw Leo shooting her a sly grin that made the butterflies start going crazy in her stomach again.

“So you remember my names, huh?” 

“It’s the nice thing to do,” she defended, a blush rising on her cheeks as she reached for some napkins.

Leo took a deep breath- he couldn’t believe that he was going to use Will’s Star Wars pick up line. 

“Do you like Star Wars? Cause Yoda only one for me.” The words practically rolled off his tongue and Calypso froze before breaking in laughter. She couldn't hold it in anymore- this was by far the funniest of all the pick up lines he had used. She pulled out a pen and scribbled something down on her sketchpad before ripping it out.

Leo, distraught, watched as she laughed at the pick up line. He should have listened to his gut and never made the pick up line. Oh gosh, he looked like an absolute loser now. Who makes Star Wars puns other than nerds? He handed Calypso the coffee and watched as she quickly left.

 He noticed the sketch she had left behind, it looked oddly familiar. In fact, he could have sworn it looked just like him. She had been sketching him everytime she waited for her coffee. He traced finger gently over the outline of his face, smiling. She had drawn everything in such detail, he felt like he was looking in the mirror but at the same time he felt she had facetuned him and made him look.. Well, perfect. Did she think he needed all these faults fixed? Or was this just how she saw him? She somehow made every flaw seem gorgeous and beautiful and he didn’t know how to feel as he looked at the bottom of the sketch. 

His eyes widened as he read the note left at the bottom of the sketch. 

Hey Leonidas (your co-worker told me that). Here’s my number - 07669833256. 

P.S- Star Wars puns ALWAYS work.

Yours truly, Calypso

“Leo? Are you good?” Will stopped to ask him. 

“Star Wars puns always work- you were right,” he said starstruck. 

The Next Friday

“Mamacita, get off those tables, I need to clean them,” Leo huffed, holding a spray bottle threateningly and a cloth in his other hand. Calypso, giggling and giddy hopped off the table. She watched as Leo quickly sprayed it down before wiping it. 

“Are you checking me out?” Leo’s smug voice cut through Calypso’s thoughts, snapping her out of mind. Her initial reaction was to stutter and wildly deny it however today at 7pm, she felt more bold than usual and decided to tease him a bit.

“So what if I was?” 

Leo almost froze at the bold response, not expecting the reaction from her. They’d been officially going out for one week and so far, Calypso had been quite shy. A kiss on the cheek here and there, a bit of innocent flirting but no one had really openly confessed their feelings. It was obvious to everyone around them that they liked each other but they seemed determined to have the other say it first. 

“Well if you were… " He turned around to see her smirking with both hands on her hips. He was not losing to Calypso- he would make her confess her feelings first if it was the last thing he did. She sat herself on the counter behind her and beckoned Leo forward with her finger. He raised an eyebrow at the bold move but obliged. 

Leo stood between Calypso’s thighs, his hands slipping around her waist. Their faces were close enough that if Calypso and Leo both moved their head slightly forward, they’d be kissing. Funnily enough, they both had started eating mints and chewing gum whenever they’d be with each other as if they were planning the moment. 

“I still can’t believe those pick up lines worked,” Calypso sighed, her hands moving onto Leo’s shoulders, comfortably rubbing them back and forth. 

“Bad Boy supreme is very much offended by those comments.”

“Nu uh. Ever since that blond co-worker of yours told me that your full name is Leonidas...” She paused to unsuccessfully hold in a small laugh. “...That your name is Leonidas, it’s been Leonidas and it will always be Leonidas to me.”

“Not even Leo?” He asked, his eyes entering puppy eyes mode. Calypso remained unimpressed and shook her head. Their eyes locked and they could feel each other's thoughts. Just as their heads were leaning in,the radio behind the counter bugged out and static started blaring everywhere. Calypso wanted to curse god- of coure something just had  to ruin the moment. Immediately, the two students shoved their hands over their ears and Leo jumped over the counter to quickly fix the horrendous noise. A few minutes later, About Love  by Marina started softly playing through the cafe’s speakers. 

The moment seemed like it was manufactured for a movie. The beautiful sunset on the horizon, the romantic music and most of all, Leo’s playful smile as he held his hand out asking Calypso to dance. She, of course, accepted and the two twirled about in each other's arms. They weren’t very good and they kept on stepping on each other's toes but eventually they got into a position where Leo’s hands were wrapped around her waist and Calypso’s arms were thrown around Leo’s neck. 

Leo watched as Calypso closed eyes and softly sang the words to the song under her breath. 

“Started in the strangest way, didn’t see it coming.”

Leo started singing with her, “My head gets messy when I try to hide.”

“The things I love about you in my mind” Their voices were harmonious and in sync. 

“I don’t really know a lot about love, a lot about love, a lot about love but you’re in my head, you’re my blood and it feels so good, it hurts so much.” Calypso had her head leaning on Leo’’s chest and she could hear the steady thumping of his heart quicken.

“Shall I take this as your confession of love to me?” He murmured into her hair. Calypso shot her head up so fast that she almost butted Leo in the chin. 

“Hell no, Leonidas.” 

Yet, as she said those words, her face leaned upwards towards Leo with her intense gaze falling to his lips. They looked soft, supple even and she felt so tempted to reach out and brush them. In fact, she felt so tempted to touch them that she didn’t even notice her actual hand reaching out to brush against his bottom lip. 

Leo had to physically restrain himself from shivering when he felt Calypso’s finger brush over his bottom lip, dragging it back slightly before slowly setting her hand at the side of his face. Slowly, like they were two magnets slowly attracting each other, they leaned in. When they were practically breathing in each other's face, Leo decided to spring one more pick up line on Calypso. 

“Did you know that my lips are skittles?” Leo cut in quickly. Calypso quickly frowned, not catching on. Leo continued, “ And you’re about to taste the rainbow.”

Calypso groaned, throwing her head back while Leo giggled to himself. Sick of chasing each other, Calypso grabbed Leo’s face with both her hands and smashed her lips into his, abruptly shutting him up. To say Leo was surprised would be the understatement of the year. He was in a true state of panic, thinking what he should do with his hands, his lips, his entire being. Her lips moved against his, encouraging him. He wrapped his hands around her waist, both of them moving up her back, pulling her into the kiss. 

They pulled away for a brief second, looking each other in the eye before slamming their lips back together. Had anyone walked in on them, it would have only been appropriate to say that they were devouring each other- their lips pushed and their hands pulled. Their lips moved in sync and Calypso weaved her hands into Leo’s curls. It was demonically passionate as their tongues slipped across each other's lips. The heat of the kiss spread across Calypso’s face- the blush was so obvious, she felt like her lips were on fire. Nothing could have stopped them, not even if the entire world was on fire. 

As they pulled away, Calypso had one more trick up her sleeve. 

“As far I’m concerned, the rainbow tasted pretty damned good,” She remarked, referencing to Leo’s previous pick up line.