#In my defense im desperately drunk

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 KNOW IT'S FOR THE BETTER (ALL I WANTED WAS YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: he can't stop himself from calling; you can't stop yourself from answering. he never speaks, but he doesn't have to—just knowing he's there is enough to lure you in. that's how it remains for weeks. that is until you mention that you're going on a risky mission and dazai has to to make an equally risky decision to keep you safe.

(wordcount: 3.1k; fem!reader, pm!reader, post-defection, angsty but not awfully so (again, sorry, i swear there's happier ones coming), implied alcoholism, dazai gets a bit jealous, ango cameo)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: OKAYYYYYY this was actually my first pm!reader and pmzai fic, believe it or not, it's been in my notes app for ages. i tried to fix most of the inconsistencies. as always, can be read as a standalone butttt for the people following the pm!reader universe, this comes directly after death by a thousand cuts! i hope you guys enjoy!! im actually rlly excited to finally get this fic out here!

He calls you sometimes.

Well, you don’t know for sure it’s him—he never speaks, if you’re lucky sometimes you can hear soft puffs of air from the other line, and the number is always unknown, but you know in your heart that it’s him. 

The first call came three days after you found him drunk in an alley—seven months after his defection. 

The unknown caller ID popped up on your phone while you were drinking with Chuuya in his apartment, trying to forget all about Dazai Osamu and all of the pain he’s brought you. You answered it irritably and when you got no response from the caller, you promptly told them to fuck off and die if they’re going to waste your time with prank calls. You expected them to hang up right away but they didn’t—in fact, they only hung up when they heard Chuuya shouting for you to get off the phone so he can open another bottle of wine, as if he wasn’t going to anyway. 

The next call came another three days after that. 

You were in a meeting with Mori when the unknown caller popped back up on your phone screen. You excused yourself to answer the phone only because you were desperate for a reason to get out of the meeting—you think that he might’ve somehow sniffed out that you ran into Dazai and if he outright asked you, you didn’t know if you’d be able to lie without him catching you in it. 

Regardless of the reasoning, you were even more pissed off than you were the first time when you heard the silence on the other end, accusing them of fucking with you and demanding to know how they got your number—again, the person didn’t say anything, and you hung up even more irate than you were the first time. 

It takes three more calls for you to put the pieces together—it’s a bit embarrassing how long it took you, but in your defense, you were trying to put Dazai Osamu as far from your mind as possible. Honestly, you weren’t even sure of it when you first guessed his name. It’s a shot in the dark when you answer the unknown caller for the fifth time and whisper, “Dazai?” so very hesitantly. Your confirmation comes in the form of a sharp inhale on the other line before it instantly goes dead. 

He doesn’t call again for two weeks, and when he finally does, it’s in the middle of the night. The buzzing of the phone woke you up, your alarm clock glowing a bright 3:15 am. You don’t even look at the caller—you figure it’s Chuuya, who has yet to return from his mission in Sendai—as you answer with a groggy “what?” 

You get no response besides the sound of a shaky breath on the other end and suddenly you’re wide awake as you realize who exactly called. He doesn’t speak, even as you make yourself sick with anger—he’s conscious and coherent this time, unlike the time you ran into him in the alley, so you take the opportunity to unleash all of the pent up rage and hurt that you’d withheld that night. You cry for the first time since he defected and he stays on the line the whole time, until you eventually exhaust yourself and fall asleep. When you wake up in the morning, he’s hung up, but the call time reads four and a half hours. 

It becomes a weekly occurrence—occasionally biweekly. 

Sometimes, you tell him about your day, rambling on about how you were irritated because Mori made you deal with Ace or complaining about recent territory issues that the Port Mafia has been facing—something that you probably shouldn’t be sharing on an unsecure line with someone who defected from the mafia, but you can never bring yourself to fully care because it’s Dazai. 

Other times, you just lay in bed quietly, exhausted after a full day of work, the phone resting next to your ear as doze off to the comforting sound of his steady breathing. 

You don’t tell anyone. 

If anyone knew you’re keeping in contact with a traitor, you’d be executed. You think that Chuuya might know—the two of you now share the penthouse of the westernmost skyscraper of the five buildings of the Port Mafia’s base and you know he’s smart enough to have put together who you’re talking to late at night. But if he does, he doesn’t say anything, because he too knows what the consequences of your actions would be if it were true.

You let out a soft puff of air as your phone begins buzzing—it’s well past midnight and you’re half asleep, but you roll over and pick up the phone with heavy eyes.

“Hey,” you whisper.

Dazai doesn’t respond, he never does, but you can hear him breathing on the other line, closer to the speaker than he usually is. You can’t help but notice that his breath is heavier than usual too, a bit shakier. 

He’s been drinking, you realize. You figured that he usually drinks on the nights that he calls you, but he never lets himself close enough to the speaker for you to figure out if it’s true. You just hope it’s not as bad as….

“I won’t be able to answer for a while after this,” you say quietly after a few moments, rolling over in bed to shift your face closer to the phone. “Mori assigned me another mission. An infiltration one—first one since you’ve been gone.”

Dazai would know the implications of that, and from the way he inhales sharply at your words, you know he does instantly, even in his drunken state. 

Whenever you were sent on infiltration missions, Dazai was always the one in your ear, making sure that you got in and out safely. You refused to take infiltration missions unless Dazai and his freakish prophetic ability was the one on comms for you because you knew he’d be able to figure out if you’ve been compromised before the enemy have even figured it out for themselves. 

But you had known it was only a matter of time before Mori put you back on them. You’re the best suited in the Port Mafia for them and the recent issues with that gang that’s been moving into the northern wards from Asakusa all but demands interference from the inside lest you guys will be dealing with another major gang war and the city can’t handle that. 

“I’m nervous,” you admit for the first time, voice little over a whisper. “I don’t trust anyone but you to be my eyes and ears. Plus this mafia is... They're very violent. Kawabata leads it. I faced off against him in Osaka before he moved into Tokyo, back when I was still in Kyoto. It's... risky. It's been years but I'm worried he'll recognize me. I don't know why Mori is insisting on me being the one to go in.”

You swear you hear Dazai take in another breath, as if he was about to say something this time, but he doesn’t. Your throat feels swollen and your eyes feel misty, jaw tight. Not for the first time, you miss Dazai. You miss him so desperately that you swear your chest caves in at the thought of him. 

You want to hate him but you know you can’t. You've come to accept that already. But you think you still might like to pretend you can.

You told yourself after you ran into him that night that you’d push him from mind, you’d forget about him. You knew that one day you’d meet him again—you and Dazai Osamu have been entwined since the day you met, fate has a lot left in store for the two of you for things to just so abruptly end—but until that day, you have to focus on what matters. And what matters is the Port Mafia.

But how are you supposed to forget him when he can’t even bring himself to fully leave you behind? You think it’s cruel of him, and you think that you should ignore his calls until he finally gives up, but you can’t bring yourself to because no matter how much you preach about forgetting him, if the choice of keeping contact with him arises, you’ll always choose it.

“I miss you,” you breathe out, voice cracking over your words. “I miss you so much that it hurts, Dazai. i-“

The line goes dead. 

The words on your lips die as soon as you realize he hung up, heart sinking. You sigh as you stare up at the ceiling before curling over onto your side, hoping to at least get a little sleep before your early wake up call for mission prep. 

But it’s a naive hope—you know that you’ll never sleep tonight, not with thoughts of Dazai Osamu racing through your mind. 

Dazai shouldn’t be doing this. 

His knuckles are white as he sits at a row of monitors in a locked down ex-government facility. On each of the screens are different vantage points of the main base of the Scarlet Gang, the mafia that had been run out of the Asakusa ward of Tokyo by the Sun and Steel and is now challenging the Port Mafia. 

Ango is pacing somewhere behind him, expression tight and arms crossed against his chest. Dazai knows that he’s livid over this, but Dazai also does not care because he doesn’t think that Ango has a right to be livid about anything that Dazai does anymore. 

He’s been here for three days already. His knees are tucked to his chest as he sits on the spinning chair, bags heavy beneath his eyes and hair matted and oily after days of sitting in front of the screen without budging an inch. He doesn’t dare take his eyes off the screen—not when your life is on the line, and especially not when he’s not even on a direct comms line with you. All he has is a burner cell and hope that you at least take a look at your phone if he has to send a text.

If this mission is like every other infiltration mission you’ve been sent on, it’ll be another two days before your planned extraction—and if you have the same luck you always do, the mission will go smoothly. But Dazai has a dark feeling in his gut, and he isn’t quite sure if it’s because he has no control over the mission or if something bad really is going to happen, there have already been some suspicious signs and he doesn't trust Mori. Your whole comment about his insistence on you going keeps scratching the back of his head like he's missing something, because there's no way Mori would ever risk losing your ability, especially to Kawabata. The man is always scheming, and Dazai is certain there's one simmering below the facade of this mission but he just can't figure out what. Either way, he knows he can't risk stepping away for even a moment. 

“I thought you were done with this, Dazai.” Ango finally has the nerve to voice what dazai knows he’s been itching to say for three days. “I thought-“

“Maybe you should stop thinking,” Dazai says dryly, his head hurts and sweat is beading beneath his arms. Three days without drinking is affecting him way more than he thought it would, but he can’t afford to be inebriated for this.

“Dazai-“ Ango begins.

“I’m not doing this for the Port Mafia,” Dazai cuts him off, dark eyes dragging across the screen to where he sees you laughing with one of the members of the Scarlet Gang, leaning in close with a teasing smile. 

You’re beautiful. Stunning. He can’t blame the way the man you’re talking to seems to gravitate closer to you, enamored by the sound of your voice and the way your eyes glitter beneath the room’s chandelier, but he still wishes he could put a bullet through his head. 

He hasn’t seen you since the day before he left—well, he doesn’t remember seeing you since then, at least. He has some suspicions regarding the part of his ear that mysteriously went missing the night he woke up in one of your shared safehouses, but this is his first time really seeing you and it makes his chest feel sick and heavy to know you’re so out of reach and by his own doing, nonetheless.

His eyes narrow as he watches the man reach out to brush his fingers against your arm. His lips twist down even more when his gaze tracks down to your lips—this is always his least favorite part of being on comms for your infiltration missions. 

“You won’t be able to oversee all of her infiltration missions anymore, Dazai,” Ango says, voice a bit more gentle and Dazai has a distinct urge to rip out the man’s vocal cords. “Once I get your records clear and you’ve joined up with the Agency, you’re going to have to leave this all behind for good. All of it.”

Dazai doesn’t respond. His lips press together tight as Ango’s words register. He knows that he’s right, that if he wants to honor Odasaku’s final wishes, then he has to leave everything behind—even you—but he can hardly even bear the thought of it. Never seeing you again, never hearing your voice again, he thinks that a life without you is not a life worth living. 

He thought that he’d be able to do it, that he’d be able to cut you off just like everyone else, but it only took one drunken night at a bar when he stared at old pictures of you for a bit too long for him to give in to the aching feeling in his chest, the desperate need to at least hear your voice one last time. 

Except one last time turned into another and another; as much as Dazai Osamu likes to pretend to be strong, he’s always been weak at heart for you. From he moment he met you three years earlier during the Dragon’s Head Conflict—sent with Chuuya by Mori to retrieve you after finding out the squad sent to escort you back had been decimated by an ability user—he’s known that he was out of his depth when it comes to you. 

He was already curious to begin with, Mori doesn’t speak highly of anyone but he did speak highly of you, and at first Dazai assumed it was just because you were a girl, and a young one at that. Everyone knows Mori’s gross fascination with them. But when they found you mid-conflict with an ability user, trying to hold your own with only a gun and some rubble as shields to defend yourself from sweltering flames, he realized that maybe there was more that meets the eye to you. 

You’re beautiful—god, he can never stress it enough, words don’t do you justice. Wicked smart. Can talk your way into and out of any situation. Have a bounty on your head high enough to rival his own. From the day he met you, Dazai knew you were everything he’s ever wanted. And yeah, maybe it took him too long to come to terms with that, but it doesn’t make the feelings any less powerful.

Sometimes, when he drinks just a bit too much and he finds himself staring at old pictures of the two of you that he’d taken, he wonders if you would have come with him if he told you what he was doing. He wonders if maybe he hadn’t been a coward, you would be with him right now instead of risking your life on an infiltration mission with some incompetent moron on comms instead of him. He wonders if maybe he would have kissed you on that same bridge he tried to kill himself during that first week he spent drunk and alone. 

He doubts it. In his heart, he’s pretty sure you’d always choose the Mafia over him, but it’s nice to pretend sometimes.

“I don’t care” Dazai finally says, his voice rougher than he intended as he gives Ango a cold look from the corner of his eye. “I won’t let her die on a bullshit mission because some clown is on comms for her.” 

Ango doesn’t get a chance to respond again because Dazai’s eyes are drawn back to the monitors, where a conversation is taking place on the far side of the room. A conversation that has them looking in your direction a bit too often for his liking.

Dazai inhales, rising to his feet, shoulders and arms tensing as his eyes trace the screen, trying to figure out if he should send you a warning. If he’s wrong, it’ll have completely blown your mission and it would put you at risk if Mori or any of the other executives start questioning you as to why you abandoned the mission for no reason.

But if he’s right… 

Dazai is good at many things, and he’s always been quick to be the one on comms with you because he, better than anyone else in the mafia, is good at reading and predicting enemy moves. He always knows in his gut what’s about to happen, you would sometimes joke that it was his real ability, some form of foresight and you would be less joking when you nudge his shoulder and tell him that you’re glad you have his ‘freaky prophetic ability’ otherwise you’d have been dead a long time ago.

Dazai grits his teeth. He feels Ango approaching him from behind but ignores him, mind racing as he tries to calculate the best course of action.

Finally, he takes the burner phone and shoots you a short message: compromised. 

And then he waits. 

The longest and most tense minute of his life passes as he watches you on the screen, waiting to see if you’ll even bother to check your phone. He doesn’t think that he’ll be able to stay in the room if it turns out you are compromised and stuck in enemy territory—he’d feel helpless, unable to do anything but watch and pray to a god he barely believes in that you get out okay. 

Come on, he thinks to himself as one of the men begins making his way in your direction, nails digging into his palms so deeply that blood began to flow from the crescents. Come on, check your phone. 

And then you do. 

He lets out a shaky breath of relief when he sees you pull out your phone, eyes tracing the message on your screen rapidly. A flurry of emotions rocket across your face, and for a moment, Dazai thinks that you’re about to cry.

But then you smile again, leaning in and clasping the man’s hand and leaning in to brush your lips against his cheek before making your way out of the room. He doesn’t dare look away until you’ve slipped out of sight from the cameras littered throughout the building and out of danger. 

Without another word, Dazai turns to leave the old facility.

“Dazai,” Ango calls after him.

Dazai ignores him, snapping the burner phone. You’re safe—that’s all that matters. Now he can go back to drinking himself away and dreaming of what could’ve been. 

Two days later, Mori sends you away on a mission abroad that lasts the next three years. That night was the last time he had any sort of contact with you until you’re finally brought back.

[mangoshorthand]

oh, and it was a guy who decided to tell me that as soon as all my clothes were off

Original request:

I have a really personal request of thats ok w u. my first time having sex i was called ugly and obese, and it still sticks with me nowadays so i shy away from being fully exposed/on top/having the lights on bc im scared they were right and its gonna happen again - so how would 5 deal w this in a partner? if this is too weird 4 u then just ignore

Thanks to @kaybreezy3000 for reading through this before I posted and making me sound less like a wildly-masturbating 19th century nobleman. Note for you at the end, anon.

Venus and Cupid | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader 4k words, Rated E

Five was an observant man: he had to be. If he hadn’t learned to pick up on the details then it's doubtful he could have even made it to adulthood.  

So he noticed that you had quite specific tendencies very early on, back when you were first seeing one another. The first time you had sex, he thought you leaving your clothes on was pretty hot - it seemed as if you were so desperate to have him inside you that you couldn’t delay it even the short time it would take to get undressed - but it quickly became apparent to him that this was something more.

You always seemed to leave as many clothes on as humanly possible, or else turn off the lights before undressing shyly, almost reluctantly, always keeping something clutched around you. 

His first reaction was to feel frustrated, (okay, frustrated and insecure, if you insisted on wheedling that out of him). Were you even into it? 

He loved the sex you had, and you certainly seemed to get something out of it, but all the while you were covering yourself from his lustful gaze like he was a lecherous drunk eyeing you from down an alley. 

He just didn’t understand it. Things were great outside the bedroom: you laughed together, you had intelligent, lively conversations…you even romanced him in a way nothing had taught him to expect. You anticipated his wants, you surprised him with dates and the occasional gift. You made him feel special and wanted in every way except this one way.

And he needed it that way too.

Maybe there was something about sex that brought home to you that he was old enough to be your father. Maybe you saw his hungry gaze as the leer of a dirty, predatory old man...and that thought hurt because it held too much truth.

He finally asked you about it after a session of sex in which you looked distinctly uncomfortable riding him, avoiding his gaze and keeping the bed sheets wrapped around you. 

He brought it up in a way typical to him: blunt antagonism as defense, masking his real insecurities. “Question: why are you with me?”

“Because I like you,” you replied, confused by his tone.

“Sure,” he said, the smallest trace of sarcasm in his voice, “but there’s a problem here, isn’t there?”

You turned to him on the pillow, and you were greeted by his expectant, irritated smile. He raised a brow, clearly prompting you to state this so-called ‘problem’. When you seemed none the wiser, he continued. 

“The problem seems to be that you hate having sex with me.” 

You looked at him, nonplussed.

“No I don’t. Why would you say that?”

He shook his head with the trace of a bitter laugh. 

“So you just hate me looking at you, is that it? You know, nobody’s forcing you to sleep with me. We could just end it if you can’t stand me ogling you.”

You turned away from him, folding your arms across your chest protectively, hugging yourself. You tried not to cry, but tears were already welling in your eyes, threatening to overspill and roll down your face. You could feel him slipping away; sense the rejection coming on the breeze.

At the sound of a sniffle, Five softened slightly 

“Why do you always cover yourself?” he said, finally.

You choked back the tears.

“B-because I’m self-conscious about my body, okay?”

Five sounded incredulous.

“You’re self-conscious about your body?”

You nodded, still not looking at him.

“Don’t bullshit me,” he said, suddenly irritated again, “You expect me to believe someone who looks like you is self conscious about her body? You’re beautiful, what the hell do you got to be self conscious about?”

His words, though spoken in a tone of irritated disbelief, gave you a warm feeling in your chest. In fact, it was his irritation that assured you of his honesty. That feeling of affirmation brought more tears at first, and it took a few moments to recover.

Five waited for you to begin patiently, able to tell by now that you’d been holding something back, and realizing for the first time that perhaps this wasn’t all about him.

You told him everything.

Your first sexual experience was with somebody who called you ‘ugly’ and ‘obese’ as soon as your clothes were removed. The first man to touch you in that way had used that privilege, not to lift you up and make you feel beautiful, but to tear you down, destroying your confidence in the process. Now, being in full view when having sex was almost unbearable to you, so you avoided Five seeing you completely naked and you avoided being on top as far as you could, lest it break the illusion and he see you for what you really were. 

You stopped occasionally to cry, unable to meet Five’s eyes. It was partially the memories, and partly the fact that you were bearing your soul to him in this way: totally vulnerable. You were giving power to him now; knowledge of how to hurt you worse than almost anything if he chose. 

As he listened, Five’s heavy brows lowered further and further, his lips becoming thinner and thinner, occasionally shaking his head as you unfolded the tale.

“Shit.” he said, after you finished your story, and then fell into silence. After almost a full minute, he spoke in a low, serious tone.

“What was his name?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, wiping your eyes.

“What was his name?”

You told him.

“Well he’s a fucking idiot, you know that right? A nasty little…you know where he lives?”

“No.”

“No problem, I can find him.”

“Five-”

“First I’ll pull out his fucking fingernails.”

“Five, no.”

“I’ll kill that cunt slow. Ignorant-”

“Five!” 

Your raised voice finally made him turn his head.

“What good would killing him do?”

He blinked. 

“It would make me feel better,” he said, though the murderous fantasies seemed to be fading from behind his eyes. 

Then, he shook his head, casting the thoughts away like a dog shaking off water. 

“....I  admit that making me feel better is low on our priority list right now.”

He held out his arms to you. When you didn’t immediately enter his embrace, he spoke in a voice so soft, and so caring that you couldn’t deny him. 

“Please, my love.” 

My love?

That was new. 

You leaned up against him, and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, one around your shoulders, the other around your waist. 

“You don’t have to feel self-conscious or…ashamed around me. You know I would never - you know that I…I worship you, for Chist’s sake. I’m desperate to see all of you. That guy was an ignorant, tasteless bastard. You don’t - surely you know that?”

You nodded uncertainly, another tear running down the side of your nose. 

“I guess,” you said, mouth against his firm pectoral, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart, “but I always get scared. Like you might…like one day you might see me and...get grossed out. Because…I know, I know I’m not sexy. I know I’m -”

“You think you aren’t sexy?” he said, speaking as if you’d just claimed that you were an organic cucumber, “are you crazy?” 

He pulled away from you, a hand on each shoulder so he could look you dead in the eye.

“Jesus, you think I’d be ‘grossed out’ if I saw you? I’m not blind, y'know; a bedsheet or a light switch can’t really hide your body from me. You’re so sexy, I can barely think straight sometimes - how in the hell can you not see that? I’d choose you for looks over any girl, every damn time. The other day when you were wearing that tight black dress- god, I pitched a tent big enough to sleep eight.”

And the way he looked down at your silhouette had you almost believing him.

You smiled, nevertheless self conscious of the idea of your black dress being more form-hugging than you’d thought. Five continued, sweeping his hair carelessly out of his eyes. 

“And it’s not just your face or your body, it’s the way you carry yourself. The way your hair falls, your smile, the color of your skin. It’s just attractive. It’s hot. End of story.”

The vehemence in his face made you smile a little more. He looked the way he did when he’d just completed a complex mathematical proof: buzzing with the knowledge of pure, objective truth. From his perspective, he had just conclusively proved an undeniable fact. 

“I know I’m biased because I love you, but anyone would say that you’re beautiful. When you met Klaus, he took me aside and told me I was punching way over my weight. I didn’t even argue-”

But you interrupted him.

“You love me?”

He fell silent abruptly, playing back his last words in his mind.

Yup, he’d definitely said it. 

He swallowed. He was an idiot.

“Well yes. Actually, I do.” 

Before you had time to do anything except gape, he rushed to fill the silence:

“I know it’s not been too long, and I don’t expect you to feel the same-”

“But I do.”

He fell silent again, his eyes on yours. 

They were strange eyes. Their shape and color, although beautiful, were normal enough, but there was a little something in their expression that always took you firmly by the throat. One might fall into those eyes and drown, yet his hand, coming to take yours, tethered you to the water’s edge. 

“You sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything,” you breathed.

His lips gave a spasm and, for a moment, you both thought he was going to cry too, but instead, he just smiled. He smiled for you a lot, but the clear, open love in this one was like being bathed in warm sunlight, and you luxuriated in it.

Then, he laughed. He giggled, in fact. It bubbled up his throat and out of his mouth before he could temper it into anything that sounded more sophisticated.

“We love each other,” he said, grinning in a dopey, infectious way.

When you smiled back, he cupped your chin gently, those eyes keeping your face upturned to his just as firmly as his hand did. He leaned into you.

At first, his kiss was tender, and your lips slid past and around one another like an embrace. But when he leaned forward, forcing you back onto your pillows, his tongue entered your mouth, and the kiss took on a more amorous character. He made a low noise as he deepened his tongue’s quest into your mouth, and you reciprocated with a soft bite to his lower lip. 

He growled, and heat spread through you as his kiss became rough and firm, pressing you into the pillows now with the weight of his body. All the tenderness had transferred from his lips to his hands, one stroking reassuringly through your hair, and the other at your waist, giving you feather-light, electric touches through the bedsheets.

Your hands came to his subtly muscled back, and cinched him closer to you. The heat was concentrating now, pooling in your lower stomach and swirling there as his unyielding lips let you know that resistance was futile. Your skin was alight with every gentle, loving touch from his fingers, now starting to work their way beneath the bedsheets.

He broke the kiss just long enough to speak. His voice matched the kiss: deep, rough and feral.

“Let me see you.”

Though it was a command, it had the sound of a request, so you took it as such.

Despite the desire now aching in your guts, your fears were still there: perhaps irrational in this situation, but no less real. Beneath the sheets, Five’s hand squeezed and massaged the flesh just above your hip. The touch spoke of his renewed need, but it spoke also of his restraint: his hand had stopped just shy of the area you’d usually hide.

“Please.”

And the word, in that husky voice, broke you. 

“Okay,” you said, arousal threatening to be overcome by nerves, “just…take it slowly.”

He nodded distractedly. His eyes were roaming your skin as he came to kneel between your legs. Both of his hands were now inching the bedsheets down, from your waist to the swell of your hips.

He made a low noise in his throat, and his soft hair fell onto the newly-exposed torso as he bent to kiss it, hot presses of his lips against sensitive skin. His hands skimmed you, feeling out your flesh.

“So beautiful,” he growled, looking up at you, fingers worming their way beneath the sheets again, “is this okay?”

You nodded as he pulled the sheets down another few inches, exposing your stomach to just below the navel. As the air met the newly-exposed skin, you felt gooseflesh prickle across your arms, your stomach tightening with the feeling of exposure. “Pretty girl.” Five cooed, running his hands across your tummy, his pressure gentle, but proprietary. 

With another slow shift of the sheets, and you were exposed to your pubic bone. He let out a breath and squeezed the skin of your hips, smiling at you broadly. It was the dangerous, toothy smile.

“I’m sorry, my love, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to get you over this. I’m going to have to make you realize how fucking hot you are, because I’m going to need to hold onto you just like this while you bounce on my cock. I need to watch these tits bounce while you ride me.”

He squeezed your flank harshly, making you gasp, and you arched your back into him as he leaned forward to take each nipple into his mouth. There was a low rumble in his throat as he first nibbled, and then soothed each tortured bud with his tongue. Your whines tailed off into moans, as arousal and the intensity of his desire once again overcame your fears. 

You felt his satisfied smile around your nipples, and then his hands left your hips to paw and knead your breasts, weighing and bouncing them in each hand. 

He gave you another kiss on the lips before straightening up, so that he was kneeling over you again, head tilted as he looked down on you, almost speculatively. The position made it obvious that he was hard again, his bulge stretching the fabric of his white boxer-briefs, leaning up against his stomach and beginning to put pressure on the elastic of his waistband. His pretty, curved cock was perfectly outlined by the material: 

“I’m going to make you feel so confident that you’ll push me onto the bed, trap me between your thighs and ride me so hard I get a concussion against the headboard.”

Though the idea made you feel another squirm of discomfort, the humor combined with the lust behind his eyes made you give a small smile.

“Not today,” you said, in a small voice.

The memories were still too close…the hurt from recalling them was only just over the horizon. 

“Not today.” he confirmed, eyes roving down to where the bedsheets still covered your sex, “but can I see your pussy, beautiful?”

“Yes.” you said, barely more than a whisper.

“Mm. Good girl,” he groaned, and pulled the bedsheets down to your knees. 

There you were, fully exposed to him…totally bared. Internally, you were fighting between the urge to cover up, and the urge to please him. You still felt exposed, like a turtle without its shell, vulnerable laid out in front of him. 

He was still taking it all in, eyes lingering on where your thighs were as close together as they could be with his body between your calves.

Part of you was still terrified it was coming. Perhaps he wouldn’t be cruel -  he’d probably try to be polite about it - but he was still about to reject you now that he’d finally got a real look. Perhaps it was okay when his imagination could fill in the blanks, but now he’d actually seen you - 

“Oh,” he said.

And in that syllable, all your fears were proved baseless. The sound was a moan of pure, wanton appreciation.

His tongue slid out to wet his lips, still pink and swollen from his hard kisses. His dominant left hand slid immediately into his underwear, and he began to pump himself vigorously. Apparently, he was more than ready for this evening’s second round. 

“Oh my god,” he groaned, speeding his strokes as his eyes roamed your exposed flesh, “you’re so hot.”

As his eyes came to your thighs and pussy again, he increased the frequency of his strokes, fist still out of sight down his underwear. 

“Five,” you said, anxiously, still feeling slightly uncomfortable. 

“Just a few minutes, baby.” he said, desperately, “Look what you’re doing to me.”

Beneath the material, he retracted his foreskin and pressed the head of his cock against the small, wet patch that had appeared there. The pink of his deeply-flushed cock tip was just visible through the fabric, rendered semi-transparent by his precome.

“I’m already leaking.” he said, agony creeping into his rough voice, “Just a few more minutes. Just until I finish.”

His eyes looked hazy, far away somehow, transported to a place where his body’s need ruled him with an iron fist. It was enchanting to behold, impossibly arousing: Five Hargreeves (the man of impeccably starched, pressed and tightly-buttoned dress shirts), was keening in front of you, totally undone with his hips gyrating into his own fist as he visually devoured your body.

“Let me eat you,” he said, begging now, “I want to jack myself off with my head between those thighs.”

And he groaned at the idea, throwing his head back and speeding his pumps.

Your body didn’t give you the opportunity to turn him down. Your pussy throbbed and slick wetness drooled onto your thighs as you looked up at him, all pale skin, latent strength and desperation.

You gave a small nod, and he bent, first to kiss your lips and then to press small pecks onto each thigh.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, “open your legs for me. Show me that pretty pussy.”

And that way, with small kisses progressively further up your thighs, he coaxed your legs wide.

“Good girl,” he crooned, his hand leaving his leaking cock only for the minute it would take to run his index finger up and down your slit. 

You shivered at the contact, too sensitive. He’d already fingered and fucked you to two orgasms tonight, and the feeling of his mouth replacing his finger made you buck immediately. 

“Nngh - Five.”

In response to your moan, he tasted you with a flat tongue. 

Your flavor, a potent honey, made his cock twitch in his hand, and he wrapped his free arm around your leg, drawing you even closer to him. Your soft folds soaked his lips, serving to excite him more.

“Fuck,” he whispered, still in that low growl. His exhale sent warm air dancing across your swollen clit, “you’re so perfect. I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

You had no time to glow with his praise, because he was sucking your clit too hard for you to do anything but gasp. As his mouth worked you, his tongue moved rapidly inside his mouth, flicking deliberately across your aching, needy nub. His tongue pulsed to the same beat as his hand inside his underwear, unconsciously matching the rhythm of your pleasure to his.

“God, Five!”

All the shame and discomfort was gone, washed away by the tide of swirling heat. The pleasure curled inside you, winding tighter and tighter. All that mattered now was Five’s clever mouth, pushing you inexorably towards another orgasm. 

Your conscious brain let go, and your hand gripped his hair tightly, not aware that you were pulling him even closer to you, forcing his nose into your mound. 

He grunted like a wounded bear, surprise causing his hand to falter around his cock. It was hard to concentrate, so preoccupied was he by the fact that you were taking control, pressing his face deeper into your folds. It was quite possibly the hottest thing he had ever experienced.

Recovering, he gripped himself even tighter, veins and tendons standing out in his left forearm as he worked himself almost violently. 

He was too close now, and it made him clumsy, completely losing the rhythm of his suckles and tonguing. 

“Nooo!” you whined, thighs tightening around his head, “Like before!”

Though lightheaded with the knowledge that your thighs were crushing his ears, (he was wrong earlier, this was definitely the hottest thing he had ever experienced), Five reluctantly let up on his protesting manhood and concentrated his efforts on your pussy. 

Soon, you were gasping and moaning, writhing, and taking him with you with the power of your thighs. 

“F-Five. Fuuuck. Oh fuck, that’s it!” 

Your cunt gushed onto his face as he brought you to orgasm. He groaned again as his chin and cheeks were soaked with sweet slickness. He strained to hear you scream his name, your thighs rendering him deaf as they clutched around his ears. While he couldn’t hear the individual words, he certainly heard enough to flatter his ego. 

Wave after wave of ecstasy was crashing through you, and you babbled meaninglessly: unconnected, incomprehensible syllables. Behind closed eyes, you were seeing stars, completely unaware of everything but the explosion going on in your lower body.

He withdrew, finally, when your thighs relaxed and your climax abated to spasms down your limbs. As you were still catching your breath, he rose to his knees, wiped his sodden mouth, and took himself in hand again, looking at you splayed, completely on display and too drunk on his sex to care.

It took him fewer than ten pumps to bring himself to orgasm. 

“Fucking gorgeous - cunt tastes so good. Mm - fucking perfect, so fucking hot. Oh shit!”

Eyebrows raised, mouth wide in a perfect ‘o’, he exploded into his underwear.

You could see his first shots of come soaking through the material before he was even finished painting their insides with spurts of his thick seed: an impressive load given the fact it was his second in under an hour. 

His throat ground out a low whine as he slowed his hand. 

He took four or five seconds to catch his breath, and in that time your conscious mind took a firmer hold. Though you pulled the bedsheets up and over you, it was more for physical comfort rather than mental. 

Five crawled beneath the sheets beside you, still breathing hard. When he collapsed on the pillow, he turned to you.

“Believe me now?” he asked, “you think I’d wank myself raw over someone I thought was ugly?”

You smiled and let out a small puff of air; a shy little laugh.

He propped himself up on one elbow while his other hand caressed your body beneath the sheets.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, firmly, “To me, you’re a renaissance painting, and I was there when Titian finished Venus and Cupid, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmured, eyes already heavy, “I’m sorry that I squeezed your head with my legs.”

“You kidding me?” he said, amused, “You could break my neck with your thighs and I’d die happy…what a way to go.”

“Well,” you said, a little discomfort returning, “I still feel bad.”

“Baby steps,” he said, voice as soft as his hand now stroking hair away from your eyes, “soon I’ll have you riding me fast and rough.”

You smiled and let his caresses close your tired eyes. After a few minutes, in which he looked lovingly down at your gentle doze, his voice sounded again.

“Can I at least beat the living shit out of that guy?”

You considered.

“...Maybe.”

Request masterlist >> HERE

NOTE: Dear sweet, anonymous girl, I see you. You did not deserve this, and this was never your problem. These formative experiences really do hurt us, and yours was such an extreme version that I'm not surprised it's given you these insecurities. I can promise you, it does get better. Feminism and loving yourself is at least half the battle, but nothing quite cements the truth like this: One day, you will be naked in front of a guy you trust completely. He'll look at you with that lustful, testosterone-fuelled glower and you'll know without a shadow of a doubt that, to him, you are venus. I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.

[daddynattt]

omg im so happy i found your blog, you’ve quickly become one of my new favourite writers !! 😭😭

the pussyjob and dirty talk in your latest nat fic was literally so perfect I s(creamed)🫣

Can you please write a fic with Nat that includes tribbing/scissoring? (only if you’re comfortable with it ofc) I think i’ve only seen like two tribbing fics with Nat in the entirety of tumblr so i’d love to see how you do with it! <33

you and me both! lol. thank you so much<3 i hope you enjoy this

You’re Mine

Summary: When Natasha sees you and Wanda dancing at one of Tony’s famous parties, she does what she can to steal you away and show you who you really belong to.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader , Brief Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: Possesive Nat, Jealous Nat, Smut, Scissoring, Fluff, Tony being Tony.

Word Count: 2.4k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You looked in the mirror for the final time as you put on your jewelry and walked out of your room at the compound. Tony is having another one of his parties and said everyone has to attend that they can’t get out of it. You hated his parties as all anyone did was get black out drunk and sleazy men would always try to hit on you. If you were being honest, you only wanted one person to hit on you and that was a certain red head. Your relationship with Natasha was a weird one. At times she would appear stone cold, only interacting when you went on missions together or had team gatherings. Other times the two of you would flirt and play this game of cat and mouse. Lately, she has been around you more and has made flirtatious jokes along with lingering touches here and there. Your crush on the assassin was one that you can’t get rid of no matter how many times you told yourself she didn’t want you in a romantic way.

You sigh as you enter through the doors and look around you. Tony was at the bar taking shots with Bucky and Sam, already looking like he couldn’t stand on his own two feet for much longer. Steve was chatting with Wanda and Clint in the corner by the bar and Natasha was talking to some guy you’ve not once seen in your entire time of being an Avenger and living in the compound. You roll your eyes as you make your way towards the bar, already desperately needing a drink to get some alcohol in your system. You’re just going to stay at the party for one hour tops and make your way back to your room so you can lay in bed and watch the show that you’re currently watching. 

“Y/n! so nice of you to finally join us” you hear Tony slur from beside you, a cup in his hand of God knows what. You stare at him as he stumbles and almost falls. “How are you already this drunk at your own party?” you ask him bewilderingly. He taps you on the back quite harshly, the sudden force catching you off guard as you almost spill your drink on yourself as you stumble forward in your seat. “Watch it Stark, I am not afraid to kick your ass” you glare at him as you put your drink back on the bar countertop. He raises his hands in defense and smirks at you. “Now now no need to get so aggressive, leave that for a certain red head” You roll your eyes and glare at him again but the light tint of pink on your cheeks gives you away. 

“How about you shut your mouth because I have no clue what you’re talking about” you take a sip of your drink and turn away from him as you look around you once more. You smile as you see Wanda approaching you, inviting her with a wave of your hand to sit beside you. She smiles at you as she takes the seat next to you. “Is Tony bothering you?” she laughs at your annoyed expression when he quickly denies it. You ignore him as you smile at her. “When isn’t he? he’s so annoying” you say the last part loud enough so he could hear you. Wanda giggles and smiles brightly at you, and you can’t deny that she looks absolutely gorgeous when she does so.

“That’s Tony for you, i’m surprised you even showed up to the party” You smile at her and take another sip of your drink. “Well, he basically forced us and I didn’t want to face his wrath if I didn’t show up tonight, you know how he is. Besides, my company at the moment is very lovely” you slide your hand up her arm flirtatiously and you relish in the way she smiles shyly at you, a light blush accompanying her cheeks. You smile at her and get up, putting your hand out for her to grab. 

“Would you like to dance with me?” she smiles and grabs your hand, walking the two of you towards the dance floor. “I would love to, cmon” The two of you dance together, her arms around your neck as yours go around her waist, her body so close to you that you feel her breath on your face. You have a feeling that someone is watching you so you look to the side and notice Natasha looking

in your direction, a hard glare fixated towards the back of Wanda’s head. You smirk as you pull Wanda closer, if that is even possible, as you whisper something in her ear. You see Natasha walking towards you guys from the corner of your eye, her eyes not once leaving yours. 

“Hi ladies, so Y/n, I thought you said you were going to come find me so we could dance” you smile at her as you look into her eyes. “Hmm did I? I don’t recall, I was actually enjoying my dance with Wanda” her gaze is hard as she looks at you, her jaw clenched as she grabs onto your arm. “Well I guess it’s my turn now, sorry Wanda but i’m going to steal Y/n for a moment” before Wanda has a chance to speak, you’re being dragged away and out of the party. “What the hell Nat? what are you doing?” the wind gets knocked out of you as you’re slammed into the wall somewhere away from the party.

“Shut up. Did you enjoy your dance with the little witch? Tell me, or did you wish it was me instead?” she has that stupid smirk on her face that always makes you feel some type of way, her face is so close to yours you could almost taste the lipgloss on her lips. 

Before you can say anything, her lips are on yours in a bruising kiss that makes your stomach swoop, the butterflies in your stomach going haywire as your brain finally catches up and you kiss her back with the same intensity. When you feel the need to catch air in your lungs so you don’t pass out, she pulls back first and cups your jaw in her hand as she stares into your eyes. “You’re mine Y/n, and i’m going to show you who you belong to” you two make your way to your shared room and stumble through the door, her lips on yours the second you close it shut. Your head feels fuzzy as all you feel and taste is her. You have been waiting for this moment for so long and you are going to enjoy every second of it. 

You feel her hot breath on your neck as she kisses you there, leaving love bites wherever her mouth reaches, her hands on your butt as she squeezes you there. You run your hands through her hair and moan in her ear. “Nat please, I need you” you pant out as you feel her tongue licking your earlobe, biting it right after. You feel her sucking on your neck again, no doubt leaving many marks that will for sure be hard to cover up. You think she is trying to claim her mark, and the thought of it leaves you even more wet then you already are. She rids you from your dress leaving you in only your panties, pushing you towards the bed and laying you on your back. 

She kisses you hard and shoves her tongue in your mouth, the feeling of her tongue against yours making the ache in your core start to feel uncomfortable . You need her now as the overwhelming feeling of her has become too much for you to handle. She kisses down your chest, taking your nipple in her mouth as she sucks on it. You can feel your slick running down your thigh as you are unbelievably wet for her. “Fuck nat, just like that, feels so good” she bites your nipple and kisses down your body, she lays down as she gets in between your legs. She slides off your panties and spreads your legs wide as she admires her view, breathing in your scent as her mouth waters.

“God you are so wet for me baby, you’re absolutely dripping. I can’t wait to taste your sweet pussy” she licks your juices from your inner thighs, your breathing picking up at the overwhelming feeling of her mouth on you. You run your hand through her hair and tug her closer to where you need her most.

“Please Natty, stop teasing me, need your mouth so bad” you mewl out breathlessly as you look down at her. She gives you a long lick from the bottom to the top of your clit, gathering your taste on her tongue. She starts to lick your folds, looking up at you as she sucks your clit into her mouth. “You taste so fucking good baby, the best pussy i’ve ever had” you moan loudly as her tongue hits you in all the right places, feeling her stick her finger inside you as she sucks on your clit again. “Shit you’re so tight, you feel so warm around me” she fucks you with one finger then slowly adds another one, moving them in and out of you expertly. You are dripping wet that once you adjust, you swallow her fingers as she fucks you deep. “F-fuck don’t stop, that feels so fucking good” she moans against your clit as your nails scratch at her scalp as she fucks you faster, the vibration making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Her mouth and fingers feel so good that you can’t think of anything else. You’re close and she knows it as you clench around her fingers.

She moves up your body and sucks on your earlobe as she fucks you deep and hard, as she whispers in your ear, her voice hot and raspy. “You gonna cum for me baby? Cum all over my fingers, that’s it baby, such a good girl for me” after a few more thrusts you cum hard on her fingers as a strong orgasm washes over you, your breathing is heavy as she rides out your high. You lay there panting as you try to catch your breath. 

She slides her fingers out and you whimper from the loss of feeling, she brings her fingers to your mouth and looks into your eyes. “Open” you instantly obey and suck on her fingers, moaning at your taste. She bites her lip and gets up from the bed and takes off her clothes, joining you in finally getting naked. You bite your lip as you admire her, you’ve never seen someone more beautiful then her. You don’t know if your mind is just hazy from your orgasm but you think you see a hint of a blush on her cheeks and the thought makes your heart swell in your chest. “God Nat, you’re so beautiful” she smiles at you and joins you back on the bed as she kisses you. 

You feel her slick against your thigh and the fact that she is so wet from only pleasing you makes you feel immense pride. She pulls back from the kiss as she bites your bottom lip. “Fuck I wanna feel you, i’m gonna grind on you baby. Wanna feel your pussy against mine” she spreads your legs as she hovers over you, grinding herself on you, the feeling of her wet folds against yours igniting a feeling inside you that you’ve never felt before. “Fuck your pussy feels so good, it’s like it was made for me” she grinds on you faster, her clit hitting yours perfectly as she glides back and forth. You’ve never scissored with anyone before, the feeling of her pussy against yours makes you feel so unbelievably dirty, you’ve never felt something as good as this.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she grinds faster, your legs slightly shaking as her pussy feels so good against yours. “God i’m gonna fucking cum, gonna cum on your pussy. Fuck you feel amazing, oh fuck i’m coming!” she sloppily grinds on you as both your orgasms wash over you, your body twitching as she rides out both of your highs, you are so sensitive that you can’t handle anymore. She breathes heavily as she looks down at you, your hair sticking to your forehead and your chest heaving, you’ve never looked more beautiful. She looks at you through hooded eyes and starts grinding on you again. You try to push her off as you’re unbelievably sensitive. “I can’t anymore Nat, ‘m too sensitive” she keeps grinding as she’s not far off from another orgasm. “Just one more princess, your pussy feels so fucking good against mine, fuck” both your clits were so swollen that the feeling of them hitting each other once more had you both so close to your release. “Yes yes yes, don’t stop Nat, i’m gonna cum” you were both so wet that squishing sounds could be heard in the air of the room as both your cunts rubbed together. “Oh fuck, Nat!” you scream her name as an even more powerful orgasm washes over you then the last one, your body shaking and twitching as she slumps against you, the both of you trying to catch your breath. 

“That was amazing” she kisses you sloppily as she continues to lay on top of you, relishing in the warmth your body provides. You lazily run your hand up and down her back as you smile. “So not that i’m complaining, because i’m definitely not, but what brought this on?” her raspy laugh makes you shiver and she looks up at you from your chest. “I got jealous seeing you and Wanda all over each other. I know i’m not an easy person to understand but I have feelings for you and want to be with you. I didn’t want to lose my chance before it was too late” you can see the insecurity in her eyes as she gazes up at you, you know she isn’t always in touch with her feelings so for her to be vulnerable with you in this moment, means more to you then she will ever know. You smile softly at her and stroke her cheek. “I’m yours Natty, I always have been. I want to be with you and only you”

[yesimwriting]

Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?

 it ​​a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol

also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!! 

also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see 

--

They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.

But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.

The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.

You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.

I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.

"Oh, you're doing that thing."

I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"

"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."

I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."

"Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."

Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"

At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"

"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."

Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"

"That doesn't mea--"

"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"

"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.

Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.

I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.

It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.

The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.

"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."

"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"

"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."

Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."

"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"

Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."

"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"

"He just wanted to sell our cove--"

"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."

Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.

"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"

"I resent that--"

"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."

I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."

"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."

"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."

"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."

He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."

...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."

Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."

"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"

He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."

Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.

Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.

--

I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.

How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.

I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?

Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.

Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.

How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?

I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.

I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door. 

I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz. 

The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.” 

My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing.  When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact. 

Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.” 

The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.” 

His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.” 

I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.” 

A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?” 

I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...” 

Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me. 

My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone. 

“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz. 

This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.” 

Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?” 

My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis. 

I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.” 

Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.” 

No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.” 

How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely. 

“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.” 

“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.” 

“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.” 

“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.” 

His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.” 

...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.” 

Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt. 

I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read. 

“You’re falling asleep.” 

I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple. 

“You’re impossible.” 

From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?” 

From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.” 

Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.” 

The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.” 

This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.” 

At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”

“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.” 

Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.” 

“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?” 

I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?” 

“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards. 

We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?” 

He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.” 

At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.” 

“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final. 

I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

[megamindsupremacy]

Misc DC fic recs (part 3)

Hey Romeo, I want a divorce by impravidus

“So you’re telling me,” Jason says slowly, “that you just happened to forget to tell me that you’re married and to my brother?”

Roy gulps. “In my defense, we were really, really drunk.”

I wanna shoop, baby by tepache

Talking over Bruce's attempts to desperately stop the unwanted laughter, Dick said, "I don't really understand what my soulmark means. It doesn't have any hints about their identity, so I just memorized the words instead."

Bruce fought for control and took a deep, sobering breath. “Whoever your soulmate is, I can’t decide whether I hate them already or need you to meet them.”

“Need me to meet them?”

Bruce chuckled—he chuckled—and said, “Dick. I have a feeling the two of you are going to be a particularly troublesome pair of best friends.”

Familiar Ground by Do_not_careissa

Jason wasn’t looking for his past to return to it. No, if the way Talia and Damian were talking, it wasn’t a life that he wanted to be a part of. The few flashes of memories he got, the sounds and sensations and images, did nothing to change that. But he had to know, if for nothing else than closure. Whoever he was before deserved at least that much.

It was just his luck an alien ring and baby would appear along the way.

Hanging around by sohotthateveryonedied

“Robin?”

“Yeah, boss?”

“What on Earth are you doing?”

Steph shrugs—an impressive feat, considering her predicament. “Oh, you know. Just hanging around.”

Window chalk and ice cream cones by queerbutstillhere

After a fight with his father, Jon accidentally runs away to New York City, where his brother is currently living. A phone call to his brother leads to a day of potentially illegal activities, brotherly bonding, and cathartic venting.

Family is what you make of it by grouchydragon

Hal got the call in the middle of a battle with Darkseid. “Kyle, awesome timing. We’re getting our asses handed to us right now. Get over here, and bring Simon and Jess while you’re at it. Guy too.”

“I can’t.”

“Too bad.” Hal dodged a blast and sent one back. “We need you.”

“No I mean I physically can’t. Which is actually why I’m calling.”

His heart stopped. “Are you okay? Are you injured?”

“I’m fine! I’m just...in jail.”

His heart stopped again. “I’m sorry, you’re where?”

gotham banksy by LananiA3O

Red Hood: Lost Days AU. After finding out that he remains unavenged, Jason returns to Gotham, but instead of deciding to kill Bruce, he decides to channel his rage into a more creative endeavor: spray-painting Gotham until the message is loud and clear to everyone: fuck Batman.

Multi media marketing mistakes by onlydance

Gotham Gazette @gothamgazette

What did Oliver Queen and Bruce Wayne get up to in boarding school?! gothamgazette.com/baidguh24h

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Oliver Queen @queenofficial

no comment

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Bruce Wayne @brucewayne

@queenofficial you know that commenting ‘no comment’ on a tweet kind of defeats the point

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Oliver Queen @queenofficial

@brucewayne shut up im not talking to you anymore

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Bruce Wayne @brucewayne

@queenofficial then stop texting me

Two years in the making by Knox your savior

Bruce’s mornings are usually spent in bed, trying to ignore the pain in his hips and his knees as he finally gets up and answers Alfred’s insistent calls to breakfast. He expects to find Alfred waiting patiently in the kitchen, arms crossed and ready to tie Bruce to a chair if he needs to.

Instead, there’s Clark Kent, eating his toast and drinking his orange juice and decidedly not dead.

Alfred could’ve warned him.

Pins and needles by aloneintherain

“I leave to get food,” Kory said, leaning against the doorframe, smirking, “and this is what I come back to?”

Kory took them in silently—Dick, purple bags under his eyes, squashed into the motel’s too-small bathtub. It made for a dry but uncomfortable bed. Especially with two teenagers asleep on top of him.

The dark knight strikes back by audreycritter

If Bruce knew anything, he'd know one simply didn't finish Minecraft.

Tim would have told him, but he didn't exactly expect him to actually play-- Bruce didn't play things.

Dick remembers Bruce playing things. Jason does, too.

There's a hard line between what Bruce was like before and what he was like after the, well, you know. The thing with Jason.

Maybe it's time for that to change.

[bruhlsbees]

sweet disposition: 1/? || femaleprofessor!reader x modern!alex kerner

hi bestie hehe i’d like to request a little series for you, sub! a little jealous modern alex keener (of age) x professor! f reader (late 20’s) - shes an english romantic lit professor & her “love interest” is a film professor who is one of alex’s shared teacher. alex has a little crush on her, and knows the film teacher is after her. super fluffy, smut maybe??? u decide baby, im just so excited eeeeek!!!

summary: alex kerner is a senior film student and develops a crush for his friend, denis, english professor

pairing: modern!alex kerner and professor!reader

warnings: age gap (alex is 22 and reader is 32), wet dream, sweet sweet pathetic boy, nsfw, 18+, minors dni

word count: 4,387

a/n: thank you for the request @gotmadison ily sweet gal!! this will be a short fic series i write and will post probably throughout the coming weekend! :) please enjoy and if you have any requests or asks please send them in!!!

For Alex Kerner, a senior film student, nothing bored him more than the first day of a new unit. He knew what to expect - twenty plus slides about some dead, or borderline dead, director while connecting their life to the style of films they did and how it related to whatever political controversy was going down at the time. Alex knew that there was a reason for going into so much history to better understand the meaning of the films, but jesus did it have to drag for so long?

The auditorium that Alex’s class was held in was larger, although the class was rather small. There were maybe, at most, thirty students in his class, including him, which felt empty as the auditorium they were in was meant to hold almost double that. Alex didn’t mind though, of all the rows, he was the only one in the back, taking the middle seat - of course, the best view to see a film. He recognized a lot of the faces in his class, as it was a senior level class, but he didn’t bother to converse with many.

It wasn’t that he was shy, not overly at least, he just didn’t care to make friends. It was an afternoon class, he was just getting out of work to rush to his class, and far too exhausted to try and fake being friendly…hence him sitting in the back, all alone. 

The ‘Authorship in Cinema’ course he was currently in was held twice a week - both two hours long. The first class of the week was held for lectures and the second class was held for the film screening. The university was just getting back from winter break, continuing into the last half of the semester. In Alex’s class they had finished their unit on Roman Polanski before the break and they came into the next covering Krzysztof Kieślowski. Alex was thrilled to say the least about not having to listen to his film professor rave on Polanski. Even after discussing Polanski’s case, his professor still seemed to idolize the man.

Alex was not fond of his film professor. He was a younger professor, maybe in his late thirties, early forties, and he seemed to praise the worst directors he could find. His name was Jaxon Thorne and was the staple image of a douche. He always wore faded jeans that were tight in the crotch, scuffed up sneakers that he always tried to pass as being cool, and a sweater with a scarf - even though they were inside. He truly didn’t get how girls liked the man. Alex wouldn’t lie though, some of his opinions were interesting, but the guy loved to hear himself talk, that much was obvious. 

They weren’t even at the tenth slide yet when Alex felt himself beginning to doze off. Work had been busy today, fixing satellites and dealing with prissy wives and their drunk husbands. He was almost late getting to class with all the traffic that was on the highway. The last thing he wanted to do was attend class. It took everything in him not to put his head down and go to sleep right there. He had done it before, and that was a mistake he would never make again. Waking up to everyone staring and snickering while the teacher was hovering over you meant for a lasting effect.

But Alex just couldn’t take it, he was so bored with Kieślowski’s early work. The documentaries of everyday lives for city dwellers, workers, and soldiers could not keep his attention even if he wasn’t tired. He sunk down into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest, before craning his head to the side on his shoulder. His blinking became slow, desperately trying to stay awake and pay attention, but his eyes grew heavy, and before he knew it, his mouth was gaped open, drool slipping out of the corner of his lips.

He didn’t know how long he had dozed off for, but when he woke up he heard the projector screen zip up and the lights click on. Jumping slightly, Alex sat back up, feeling the stickiness of his drool on his face. With a groan, he wiped his face with the sleeve of his jean jacket before beginning to pack his things up into his bag.

“On Wednesday we will dive into his documentary, Workers, and discuss the censorship aspect of it. Come prepared to watch the screening and discuss afterwards. If anyone has any questions or comments, I’ll be staying after for a few minutes.” 

Rolling his eyes, Alex pushed himself out of his chair, swinging his bag over his shoulder before rushing out the back door at the top of the auditorium. He couldn’t have gotten out of there fast enough to avoid his teacher from going off on an ‘intellectual conversation’ on their new unit. Barf.

Alex was happy though to finally be out of class and to enjoy his hour and a half break before his next class. He knew he should have been finalizing what project he wanted to submit for critique in his senior portfolio, but he needed something to wake him up. 

As he turned the hallway, going to leave the building, he stopped by the vending machine and pulled out a crinkled bill from his pocket, pushing it into the machine before pressing the buttons to get a bottle of Coke. To his luck, however, the machine stalled, the bottle retriever getting stuck in front of the row and producing an obnoxious ‘whirring’ noise. 

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” Gripping the side of the vending machine, Alex shook the machine roughly, rocking the broken vending machine back and forth until setting it back, sending a punch to the front of it.

“Woah, woah! Jesus man what did that vending machine do to you?”

Turning his head, Alex’s glare softened at the sight of his friend, Denis, approaching him. Denis, with his books still in his hands, tucked them under his arm as he stood in front of the machine, watching as the machine stalled with Alex’s bottle of Coke.

“The stupid thing got stuck! Is it too much to ask for a bottle of co-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the machine began to work again, grabbing the bottle and dispensing it below. Staring blankly at the bottom, his lips pulled into a tight line, Alex could only feel the embarrassment settling in - and it didn’t help to hear Denis laugh at how ridiculous he reacted.

“Oh my god, dude, you seriously need to take it easy. Did work kill you that bad?” Denis asked, watching as Alex bent down to pull out the bottle, standing back up as he began unscrewing the cap, guzzling the pop down. 

Nodding his head, Alex screwed the cap back on before tucking the bottle in his bag, hiccuping at the carbonation before sighing, “Yeah, and it doesn’t help that I gotta go to Professor Dick’s class right after.” 

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Denis nodded, listening to Alex as he vented, “Yeah, Thorne’s a real piece of work. But hey! Only gotta deal with him for another semester after this. Who knows, maybe he will knock a student up and ditch down?”

The fantasy would have been nice to come true, but Alex knew that it would stay just that - a fantasy. Thorne was a questionable guy, with interesting ideas and made borderline inappropriate comments towards the female students in all his classes…but that was just it, he could charm anyone he wanted, and that’s how he stayed around.

“Yeah, maybe when dogs walk on two legs…” Alex mumbled, pressing his knuckles to his eyes and rubbing the sleep out of them, a yawn escaping his lips. 

As he dropped his hands down to his side, he felt Denis nudge him in the arm, groaning at the contact as he was too tired to have any contact, “You got class at seven right?”

Nodding, Alex blinked, a tired smile on his face as he smacked his lips, “Yeah…seven to nine, best time of day to have a senior portfolio workshop.” 

Denis laughed at the sarcastic comment, mentioning that it could’ve been worse and be at seven in the morning than at night. Alex, however, couldn’t see how anything could be worse than an evening class after a long day of work.

“Listen, I got my ‘Romanticism in Literature’ class in a few…why don’t you come with me? My teacher’s pretty cool and I’m sure she won’t mind if you sit in. I’m in the back anyways so she probably won’t even realize. She’s got pretty bad vision I’ve realized. I think she said that her glasses don’t got the right prescription or somethin. She’s always runnin late and claims she never has time to put her contacts in.” 

The detailed explanation of the professor’s vision made Alex laugh, shaking his head as Denis looked at him confused, cheeks red, “What? It’s what she’s told us! She’s always coming in late. I wouldn’t be surprised if she came in late this time around. She’s got office hours before class, so she probably gets held up with a student.”

“Sounds like you’re in love with her, is that right, Denny Boy? Someone’s gotta crush on the teacher? Ain’t that every high school kid’s fantasy? Get the hots for the teacher?” 

Scoffing, Denis rolled his eyes at Alex’s teasing and shoved him in the arm, “No man, come on now, it ain’t like that. Look if you don’t wanna come I don’t care, but I gotta go before I’m late.”

Holding his hands up in defense, Alex trailed behind Denis, going back in the direction he originally came from, “Hey, hey, I was only kidding, don’t gotta get defensive. I’ll take along, hopefully I won’t fall asleep in this class. Why you even taking this class anyways?”

Following Denis into the class, the auditorium setup similar to the one he just came out of, except smaller, Alex sat beside Denis in the back row, watching as the class filled up, only a few seats not filled. 

“I guess I gotta earn some more credits outside my degree, this was the only one that wasn’t completely filled up yet and it worked with my schedule. It ain’t too bad, she gives us a lot of free time to work.” 

Watching as Denis set his bag down beside him, opening his textbook to where they left off the other day, Alex watched Denis prep for the class, the teacher not in sight. Alex figured that the teacher must have been running late, like Denis said she always did, but he couldn’t help but wonder how long it’d be before she even showed up.

Fifteen minutes after class was supposed to begin the front door ripped open, slamming shut seconds after while heels frantically clicked towards the desk in the front of class.

“Sorry I’m late! I got caught up with another professor. I hope you all enjoyed your winter breaks and are happy to be back. I know I’m thrilled to be back!” 

The sweet voice caught Alex’s attention, his eyes pulling from his cell phone and to the front of the class where the professor had just walked in. He felt his mouth fall open slightly, catching it before Denis noticed his reaction.

He was expecting an old lady for Denis’ class, someone who was on the edge of death and smelled of cats. What he found, however, was someone the complete opposite. Younger, curvier, and the scent that filled the room when she entered was warm - like she just finished drinking a cup of coffee.

Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, bangs hanging low over her eyes, covering the tops of her crooked frames. She couldn’t have been all that older than him, maybe mid-thirties at max. He didn’t notice what she was wearing below, but the shirt she wore clung to her so well, the outline of her fuller chest displayed with her necklace dipping into her cleavage. 

‘Good God, Alex, get a hold of yourself.’

Alex watched the professor, noticing her speaking although his lusted thoughts deafened his ears. He assumed she was asking how the break went and if anyone did anything fun because a few people raised their hands, a kind smile on her face as she listened to her students.

“That’s great to hear, Polly! You’ll have to show me the photos you took sometime. I have never been to that side of the country before,” Her head shifted towards the other side of the room, looking up at the higher rows. “Did anyone else have anything to share about their break?”

Denis’ professor sat patiently and listened to everyone who wanted to share, giving everyone the opportunity to discuss their breaks before she opened up her laptop to get started with class. Alex watched as she picked up the remote and pointed it to the projector box, the screen coming down beside her with her computer screen displayed.

Her home screen featured what he assumed to be her and some friends. He recognized a few of the people in the photo as they were also professors at the university - what made Alex turn his nose, however, was right beside her - in all his douchebag glory, Jaxon Thorne. Before he could make a cohesive thought, the photo went away and a slideshow on Mary Shelley appeared…and maybe for the better.

“Okay everyone! As mentioned in the email, we are gonna be diving into Mary Shelley’s novel Frankenstein for this part of the semester,” She began, her warm smile still ignited, chuckling lightly as some of the students up front became uneasy in their seats, excited for the novel, “I’m glad to hear we have some fans. Now, I promised that I wouldn’t give you any reading over break, but because of that we will be reading quite a bit over the next few weeks.”

The slide shifted to the reading guide and what chapters were due when. Alex watched as some students scribbled the due dates down while others pulled out their cell phones, snapping a photo before stuffing their phones away. 

“For Wednesday I would like you all to have read the preface and letters one through four. Come prepared to discuss your analyses of the text and any questions you may have. Of course, I’ll have my office hours open tomorrow and Wednesday before class, but if there are any questions, you can send me an email and I’ll try to get back with you in a timely manner.” 

The rest of class seemed to lull by, Alex’s gaze fixed on the professor that continued to go over what the last half of the semester would look like, answering the occasional question, before finally it was time to pack up and go. Frowning, Alex shifted in his seat, looking at Denis who was packing things up in his bag. 

“It’s over?” Alex asked, eyebrows furrowed, a pathetic frown on his face.

Looking up from his bag, Denis smiled, nodding, “Yeah man, it is. Why? You fall in love with Mary Shelley?” Standing up, Denis pushed his seat under the table and shrugged his shoulders, “I mean, if it works for your schedule and you’re interested, maybe go up and ask if you can enroll. I don’t know if you’ll be able to with it being so late in the semester, but it’s worth a shot,” Glancing down at his watch, Denis sighed, “Look, I gotta run, but let me know how it goes, okay?” Patting Alex’s back, Denis rushed up the stairs and out the back door, fleeing the auditorium to get to his next class on time.

Meanwhile, Alex kept seated, watching as the professor talked with some students who approached her desk after class, laughing and admiring the editions of Frankenstein that students presented. Was this how professors could be with their students? Actually caring and involved? It seemed like Alex had poor luck with his own professors - either they were old as a bat and didn’t know how to work the computer, or they were a presumptuous dick.

When the students began to flock out, already discussing how they were looking forward to Wednesday’s class, Alex finally stood up, pulling his bag over his shoulder and making his way down the auditorium steps. She hadn’t noticed him as he walked, writing something down in her planner. As he stood now in front of her, he cleared his throat awkwardly, gaining her attention as she looked up, squinting before taking her glasses off.

“Hello,” he began shyly, adjusting the strap of his bag, “I’m Alex. My friend, Denis, he’s in your class.” 

At the mention of Denis, she smiled and nodded, “Yes! Denis, nice boy he is,” She adjusted her position in her seat, leaning back slightly, “I-I’m sorry, are you in my class? I don’t believe I’ve ever see-”

“No! I mean, no, no I’m not in your class. I have a free hour before my next class and Denis invited me to sit in for this one,” He rushed, cheeks red as he realized how abruptly he had interrupted her, “I’m sorry, um, yeah I just came down because I really enjoyed your lecture today. I was curious if there was any way I could maybe enroll? I know it’s late in the semester, but I did enjoy today.” 

The cheeky smile faded into a sadder, smaller smile. She chewed on her bottom lip before leaning forward again, crossing her arms over chest, accentuating her cleavage that Alex desperately tried not to stare at.

“Oh, I’m sorry Alex, but I don’t think I can convince the department to let you in this late in the semester. I love your enthusiasm with the course and would love to have you in my class, but I don’t think I can make that happen.” Her smile dropped to a frown when she saw the visible disappointment in Alex’s face before bending over to open her bag, pulling out a copy of Frankenstein, handing it to Alex.

Looking down at the copy, Alex opened the cover, reading what he assumed to be her name in the cover, before flipping through the pages, a weak smile on his face, trying his best to not look so pathetic in front of her.

“How about this? I probably shouldn’t, but if you want to sit in on the days you’re free, you’re more than welcome to. I’ll forward you the reading guide so you can keep up with us, but you won’t earn any credit in this class. Is that okay?” 

His frown turned into a grin, looking up from the book, Alex nodded, his cheeks pink as his toothy crooked grin spread across his face, “Yeah, yes. Thank you,” Tugging down the front of his striped blue shirt, he cleared his throat awkwardly, looking down at the book before back up at her, “Um, so when are your office hours? Just in case I have any questions?”

Letting out a faint ‘ah’, she opened her notebook and scribbled some notes down, tearing off the paper and handing it to Alex, “You’re more than welcome to shoot me an email though if you need help outside of my office hours. Or you can call my office number, sometimes I answer it.” She admitted, her own cheeks going pink at the confession.

Smiling, Alex looked down at the paper and made a mental note to remember all that she had given him.

My email,

My office number,

Office hours are M&W: 3-5:15 and T&R: 1-2

Class takes place on M&W from 5:30-6:30

:)

The smile she left on the page made Alex’s stomach flutter. His thumb ran along the smiley face before he looked up, thanking her quietly for the note. She was sweet, almost too sweet for Alex to absorb, like he was in a sugar coma and begging for more. 

“Of course, it was nice to meet you Alex. I’m looking forward to seeing you in class. I don’t mean to run off, but I’m to meet another professor here in a couple minutes and don’t need to be lectured on being late.”

When she stood up, Alex’s face went hot. The flowy flower blouse that showed more cleavage than he had seen on a professor before was tucked into a tight jean skirt, clinging to her hips in all the right places, a thick black belt holding it all together. If it weren’t for the fact that he was right in front of her, he probably would have started drooling. 

Packing up her desk, she stuffed her things in her bag, throwing her sweater over her shoulder before throwing her bag around her, moving around the desk to stand beside it now, looking up at Alex. He noted how she was shorter, the heels helping her with height, and how good her legs looked in them. Clearing his throat, he shifted his bag around him to sit in front of his pants, attempting to hide any possible pop-up in his jeans.

“If you’re free tomorrow, stop by my office hours. I’ll even buy you a coffee if it’s too early for you. I know you college boys stay up far too late. I can only imagine what your mothers think.” She teased, shaking her head and she turned and began to head out of the room, hearing Alex keep tight on her trail. 

Turning off the lights and letting him leave first, she shut the door behind her and stood beside Alex, motioning towards the English department office, “I’ll see you tomorrow, or Wednesday, my office is the last one on the right. I’ll be sure to leave my door open!” 

Nodding, Alex smiled and waved goodbye as she waved back, rushing down the hall and weaving through the students to get into the office. Letting out a sigh, Alex leaned against the doorway, processing his first encounter with the professor, the boyish lust grin stuck on his face.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Panting hard, Alex gripped her hips tight, his fingers digging into her plush figure, grunting as he snapped his hips into her from behind, her pillowed ass meeting him with each thrust. The sweat that built up on him was beginning to fall down face, trailing down his neck and chest. 

Tangling his right hand into her hair, his left still placed on her hips, Alex pulled her locks gently, smiling at the sound of her wanton moan, her eyes rolling back into her head. 

“A-Alex! Oh god, Alex, I don’t think I’m going to last. F-Fuck!” 

Feeling his own climax build, Alex let out a shaky breath as he bent down craning his neck to kiss her lips as he continued to rut inside of her, his thrusts becoming sloppy and quicker.

The sensation became too much too quickly, his legs shaking as he kneeled behind her befo-

Jolting awake, the obnoxious phone alarm woke Alex from his dream, resulting in a now completely frustrated mood. While still on his back, Alex reached behind him on the shelf that rested behind his bed frame, pulling his phone up and looking at the screen, squinting to gain his vision from waking up, the bright screen burning his eyes.

When he unlocked his phone and opened it, prompting him to his email, his frown lit up and turned into a smile, seeing her name in his inbox.

Good evening, Alex!

I’m sorry this is so late, I’m finally getting back to my apartment and wanted to send this your way before I forgot. Here is the reading guide for the rest of the semester and that information I shared with you earlier in case you lost it.

I look forward to seeing you in my office tomorrow or Wednesday. I hope you have a good night! :)

Best!

Alex’s mood quickly shifted after reading the email. While he was disappointed that the wet dream he was having with her ended so soon, he was more than pleased to see that he had an email from her. Clicking his phone off, Alex tossed his phone onto his bed, sitting up with his hand behind him to keep him up.

His room illuminated a red/orange hue from the lava lamp that sat on his dresser in the corner of his room. Turning his attention towards the window, he looked behind the blinds to see the city life outside his apartment lit up, the sound of music coming from the club down the road and laughs from those partying. 

Letting out a yawn, Alex shook his head and rubbed his face, shifting his legs before stopping quickly, feeling the mess in his boxers. Looking down, Alex groaned seeing the stain in his boxers, pressing his hand to feel the wet spot before sighing, standing up. He pulled his boxers carefully off, tossing them into his laundry basket before making his way into the bathroom to clean up. 

When he entered the small bathroom that was connected to his room, he hissed at the bright light as it came on, looking at himself in the mirror. His hair was tangled up, sticking out on the sides and his eyes were squinted, too tired to open them fully. Shaking his head, Alex climbed into the shower and started the water, the cold water hitting him both waking him up and cooling himself down.

He was absolutely and pathetically smitten over her. There was no doubt about it. Since leaving her class, the only thoughts that occupied his mind were of her. He had already planned out what he would wear tomorrow when he went to her office hours. It was pathetic, truly, with how quickly he was letting the woman ruin him. It was ridiculous to say, no doubt, because what would happen between them? Nothing. Not a single thing would come between the two other than a conversation about Frankenstein, maybe a personal question here and there.

Or so he thought.

[happyocelot]

Featherweight

Inspired by "Drunken Gentle Fist" by AngelAnimeFan, for Day 23: Drunk.

There were lots and lots of things about Hinata that surprised Naruto. That she liked gardening, just like him, that she liked red bean soup, just like him, that she could eat tons and tons of ramen, just like him, that she never went back on her word, just like him, that she was totally cool and awesome and incredible, just like him!

Naruto had been finding out a lot about Hinata after coming back to Konoha with Jiraiya, when her shyness would slowly dissipate, just a little, and he could finally catch glimpses of her true nature behind that curtain of dark hair and those downcast white eyes, and he would be shocked and delighted at what he would discover.

And then, there was...this.

Never in a million years could he have guessed that between a drunk Hinata and a drunk Lee, he would take the drunk Lee, no contest.

Akamaru pouted and whined, covering his face with his paws. Naruto didn't blame him. Hinata had decided, after a few sips of chuuhai, that Akamaru was the cutest dog in the world, and that cute dogs needed cute accessories. Like cute fluffy ribbons and bowties. She'd gone and gotten lipstick too, but fortunately for Akamaru, a sober Neji had gently wrestled it from her hands, along with the chuuhai.

Poor Akamaru.

Poor Neji, who, for some reason, was glaring at Naruto as though it was his fault that Hinata was a featherweight who had suddenly developed a split personality.

"What?" he asked defensively. "This party wasn't my idea, ya know!"

Neji did not respond with anything other than a twitch of his brow.

"Neji nii-san, 'iv it back," Hinata said, getting into a game of tug of war with Neji over the lipstick. "Akamaru's a good boy 'n' I neeeeed to dress 'im up."

Naruto would have laughed, but the vein in the middle of Neji's forehead was pulsing dangerously, so he didn't.

"Hinata-sama," he said, "please take it easy. You're clearly..."

"Naruto-kun!" She turned big, pleading eyes towards him, and this combined with the rosiness of her cheeks made Naruto melt. "Don't you agree with meeeee? Akamaru is the cutest dog ever, right?"

...Drunk Hinata was adorable. Of course he would agree with anything she said.

"Uh...yeah!" If Hinata's look made him melt, Neji's look made him combust. Still, he soldiered on. Hinata was cuter than Neji, that was why! "Akamaru is the cutest dog ever!"

The smile she gave him was radiant. The glare Neji gave him was murderous.

"In fact, I'll help you, ya know!"

Then Akamaru howled in despair and Kiba came running to his rescue.

***

The next bout of weirdness occurred not with Akamaru and Hinata, but with Lee and Hinata. And once again, Naruto was the amused spectator while Neji was desperately trying to be the voice of reason.

Unfortunately for Neji, Lee, despite being kept far, far away from even hand sanitizer for...reasons, accidentally took some sips from the can of chuuhai, thinking it was just soda.

When this happened, Neji paused in his rush to get to Lee, blinking and gaping in slow motion as a few drops of chuuhai dripped down Lee's lips and onto his green jumpsuit.

They both winced, waiting for the incoming explosion.

It didn't happen.

***

Naruto didn't know how or why, but by the time he and Neji had reached them, Lee and Hinata had become involved in a loud discussion about who among the Konoha 11 had the nicest smile. Naruto had heard stories from Team Guy about what a drunk Lee could do to innocent furniture and bystanders, and was frankly shocked to see him behave in his normal, well-behaved way around Hinata.

Neji rushed at them like he was a firefighter forced to put out an asteroid strike. Then he paused as he came within earshot of their conversation.

"But...Hinata-saaan," Lee slurred, blinking sleepily at her. "Tenten looks sooo cute when she smiles...you know? But Neji...now he...mmmm...sometimes he smiles tooooo...and he looks amazing when he does. But only sometimes."

Neji blinked at his teammate's words, then his face broke out in a deep blush.

"You look like you rolled around in poison ivy, Neji," Naruto said, a devilish smile on his face. Neji didn't reply, focusing in horror on his cousin's response.

Hinata hiccupped. "Nii-saaan...he looks good when he smiles," she agreed. "But Naruto-kun...he looks the best."

Now it was Naruto's face that broke out in a deep, allergic reaction-looking blush.

"Im...hic...impossible. Neji...has...the best smile," said Lee, getting up from the couch and into a wobbly fighting stance.

"No," Hinata hiccupped back, also getting into a fighting stance. "Naruto...kun...Naruto...kun...has the best smile."

"Oh...hic...yeah? I'll...fight you on that...Hinata...san...on my youthful teammate's...honoooor."

"Lee...kun...I...am also prepared to fight...to defend my ninja way...hic..."

Naruto and Neji exchanged twin looks of dread.

And then the explosion happened.

***

The moon twinkled mockingly at Naruto and Neji, both covered in dust, smoke, soot, ash, and various chunks of debris.

They set off slowly and painfully back to Lee's house, then the Hyuuga compound, each carrying their respective...defender...on their backs.

Both Lee and Hinata were slumbering peacefully, blissfully unaware of the havoc they had unleashed on the poor partygoers.

"Ya know," Naruto said, "Hinata totally won that match. Which means I have the best smile."

Neji did not respond.

Hinata snorted in her sleep, and her cousin willed himself not to jump a mile into the air.

[skibrewscoffii]

VENTI X READER WHO DOESN'T BELIVE IN ARCHONS EXISTENCE

Late Venti B-Day present lol

Word count: 492

Warnings:anger issues idrk,angsty?? Cursing a bit

Also this is probably kinda last minute thing I made

[low-key for my comfort so it's a bit angsty I'm not feeling in the mood for fluff aa]

he would see how you would roll your eyes when Barbara would mention the archons, you weren't someone to be rude or mean, he knew you very well. He did get his suspicions but decided it's best to not pry on the topic.

Then again when you looked you both were Speaking with each other Venti brought up something about the archons you could only sigh.

His birthday was coming up and you didn't want to have a fight with him on your opinions, he believes in the gods existing you don't it's simple.

“darling do you not seem to believe in the archons existence?” you shook your head tilting your head to face the bard, smiling at him.

“I don't if they did wouldn't everything be so better? Even if they existed I will never forgive them for being oh so irresponsible” Venti did feel a bit guilty for not doing his job properly, “what if they can't, as in you can't really judge them?” “Venti I don't want to argue not now your birthday is a few minutes far, let's not...” you sighed, you weren't feeling in the mood to even speak with him on this topic.

“why not? Didn't you say you will explain everything I don't understand about you? We promised Right? Well what if- what if I'm barbatos? Will you leave me just because I'm a Archon?” Venti was starting to ask questions on questions with a fear growing within him what if you left?... if you left him he would be so lonely all over again...

You took his hands in yours “Venti, will you care to explain why you're getting so defensive it's not like you are the archon? If you did tell me that I'd say you're drunk” you pecked his cheek “oh look it's your birthday!" when you looked over at Venti he looked rather upset.

"what is the matter?” “promise me you won't leave please” “what are you on about” “Im the anemo Archon” you were simply confused, he wasn't drunk today then what's he on about “is this a joke-" he cut you off “no I'm serious love please don't leave me just because I'm a Archon please” “Venti I'm sorry I need some time to process this I don't- I don't understand” everything was becoming blurry like you were in some nightmare you looked everywhere desperate to grab a hold of your mind.

“I can't do this right now” not now. Not now. Not now it kept on repeating and repeating until with a gasp you woke up looking around your surroundings realizing Venti was never real...

“goddammit, fuck this ARGH” you cried feeling tired of everything and everyone

[Can you tell I have anger issues me too,,]

[duskamethyst]

only mine.

a/n: my first bnha fic! im in love with the anime and i simp for so many characters aha

word count: 1.6k

genre: mature, implied nsfw (characters are aged up)

warnings: kidnapping, drugging, yandere behavior

pairing: yan!kaminari x gn!reader

summary: you and kaminari are fuck buddies. 

“man, can’t you just sleep over?” kaminari groans as he rolls onto his side, his elbow props himself up to watch you get off the bed to collect your clothes that were stripped and thrown onto the floor. 

“denki, no.” you say sternly while putting on your hoodie, missing the pouty look on the male’s face. 

“not even for one night?” he pleads. 

“nope!” you stick out your tongue teasingly before walking towards the door and turning the knob. “not ever.”

“sheesh, you’re such a hardass.” 

“call me whatever you want,” you roll your eyes as you step out and slowly close the door before peeking your head in again, “see ya.”

it has been months since you and kaminari been fucking on each other’s bed. it started with small talks before he (quickly-- after just a couple of times seeing each other)  began to openly flirt with you. kaminari was a fun a guy to be around with, kind of dumb and he looked like he meant no harm. you decided to entertain the fellow, shamelessly retaliate his flirtatious behavior (which was so much better than his game that it made him flustered often) until the both of you found yourselves together, bare and dripping with sweat in bed. 

you and kaminari formed a “pact” that it should remain as is, no strings attached and leaving the only label on it as fwb. being each others’ booty call is hell lot of fun, the sex is bomb and you don’t have to commit and have feelings for each other. you made it clear that this should remain a secret and that you both are free to fuck around with other people too but as much you’d like to believe that he understood it, kaminari never failed to constantly spam your phone with unnecessary texts about your well being, how your day went or asking if you wanted to go to shopping with him. it was a bit suffocating but if he was lucky enough, he’d get a short reply if not left on read.

you stick to your own belief that is to leave as soon as you’re done wrecking each other. no cuddles, no pillow talks or whatever those cheesy things couples normally do because the more time you spend together, there would be no doubt that one of you would start to catch feelings and it’s the last thing you want to have right now. the longest that you would stay at his place was only to take a quick shower after doing the deed, but not before having him almost begging to come in with you.

still, that doesn’t stop the male to often ask you to hang out and stay with him after a couple of hours together. you had to constantly remind him how this whole thing works but sometimes you could still see how he was burning holes behind other people who he thought was looking at you for too long or making you laugh too much and you couldn’t help but to wonder if he was taking this differently from you. whenever you confronted him about it, he’d get extremely defensive about his behavior and said you were just imagining it or that he was joking. not wanting to argue any further, you’d often leave it at that.

hanging around with the guys is when his little antics gets worse. kirishima often invites the crew to his place to play video games and he always manages to find a way to lay a finger on you or openly flirts with you. he’d usually make sure that he is the one that gets to sit next to you or purposely hangs an arm protectively around your shoulders as he casually speaks to the others-- which earns the both of you some weird looks. kaminari notices it and he lives for it. it makes him even prouder to be able to claim you in some sort of way.

“been kinda wondering-- you guys are fucking each other or something?” sero suddenly questions while his eyes are glued to the screen in desperation of beating bakugou in the racing game.

“hell ye- OUCH!” you yank your elbow on kaminari’s side to cut him off.

“who the hell would?” you quickly reply, earning some laughs from the other males present. 

“then, you’re free after this?” he turns his head to wink at you, giving a small room of opportunity for bakugou to slip through sero’s car and eventually finish the whole two laps. 

the blonde male grunts and hits sero’s head with his controller, “fucking idiot! you didn’t even take this seriously! kirishima! you’re next!”

“well, someone’s bound to take care of that bump on your head now, huh?” you tease, and sero is one to quickly catch on to that as a wide grin spreads across his face. 

“dude, i owe you one!” he chuckles and lightly taps on bakugou’s shoulder. 

“i should’ve kicked you in the balls.” he grumbles, finger expertly pushing one of the joysticks as he chooses his preferred sports car for the next race.

the night goes on as usual, each of you taking turns on the racing game that bakugou insists on only playing for the rest of the night which none of you dared to say otherwise. everyone has their shares of laughs, you think-- missing the scowl on kaminari’s face whenever you choose to only spare him your half-assed attention while sero shows you his collection of memes on his phone. it’s probably mean of him to think how sero looks like a fucking simp that has to impress you in order to woo you for the night but he couldn’t care less. he knows you best-- knows how you do things your way and seeing you “subtly” being flirtatious right in front of his face angers him to no end. 

you’re acting like it, like a... what was it again? a whore? it has been at the tip of his tongue but he doesn’t dare to say it. he feels bad enough to even think about you that way and know that he shouldn’t since you both are in this stupid “relationship” that people use as an excuse just to hop from one dick or pussy to another because they’re too “afraid” of or don’t want any commitments or whatever. kaminari gets the idea, he’s not that dense but it’s unfair how he can’t bring himself to do things like you-- not when he’s already catching feelings this quick.

for the sake of not wanting to ruin the night nor the only thing that binds you to him, he chooses to keep his cool until you guys part ways. he doesn’t even realize how hard he’s clenching his fists when he finds out that you left with sero while he’s gone for a bathroom break. 

— come over tonight? ;-)

a week has passed since that night. you notice that kaminari haven’t been constantly flooding your inbox like he used to and it has been the least of your worries. in fact, you enjoyed it. you had your time being around other people more without having them to think that he’s a threat to them and he was less touchy than he used to be. you have no clue about the reason for his change in attitude and you couldn’t find the reason to ponder about it anyways.

he comes over as asked, an activity that is far from foreign for the both of you. kaminari happily shows you the bottle of booze from his bag as he enters your home-- neither of you has to say it, you both know that you’re going to have mindless, drunk sex tonight. 

“don’t worry, i’ll make sure to sleep on the couch.” he reassures, pouring the liquor into two glasses in your kitchen as you sit down lazily on the couch. 

“you better be,” you reply, going through the movies available on netflix from the tv screen. “you can choose what you wanna watch.”

kaminari walks over and offers you one of the glasses before sitting down next to you. he goes through the movies before choosing one, sipping on his drink and glancing towards you through the corner of his eyes once in a while. he can’t help but to suppress a smile through his glass when he catches you take a gulp and your face squirm at the bitter taste. 

“it’s so strong.” you mumble after a few more sips and a few minutes into the movie that you are trying to pay attention to. you believe that your alcohol tolerance isn’t that bad but the way those few sips are already making your head spin instead of the familiar high that should succumb your mind by now.

“for real? i think you’re just imagining it.” he replies coyly as his eyes bore through the screen.

“i’m not--” the spinning starts to become unbearable and your eyelids are getting heavy so you quickly lay your head down and close your eyes on the couch in an attempt to soothe it down before kaminari reaches to rub smooth circles on your head.

“shh, do you wanna puke?” his voice is too calm despite the situation. knowing him, he’d be absolutely frantic when things go wrong. you try to open your eyes, but the lights do nothing but cruelly inflict the pain even more. 

“no.. i just-- carry me to bed..?” you whine as you welcome the comfort he’s offering.

kaminari just watches you as you slowly drift into a deep slumber, your chest heaving up and down as you breathe. he calls your name a few times to test the waters before he finally lets out a sinister chuckle and hovers over your body to kiss your cheek.

“poor baby. don’t worry, i’ll bring you somewhere nicer.” he whispers as he gazes adoringly at your unlively state. so vulnerable. 

“then i can have you all to myself.”

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[rafecameron]

idk if u do rqst but i love ur writing! can u do jj x reader in a secret relationship bc shes a kook & also kiara’s enemy? maybe kiara having a lil crush on jj and when she found out, thats when the drama happens? kie confronts y/n and they get into a fight!! 🤭 im sorry if you dont do requests ): just ignore this then!

thank you so much for requesting! I haven’t written for JJ in so long I hope this is okay!

You didn’t necessarily enjoy sneaking around. You hated lying to your friends about where you were and what you were doing but you knew it was for the best. You knew your friends would look down on you for dating a pogue, but that wasn’t even what you were worried about. It was his friends. One friend in particular. Kiara. You knew kiara from school and you even used to hang out with her during her kook year. You were never what you would have called friends but you got along and were civil so when she completely turned on you at the end of last year you were more than a little surprised.

You had tried to talk to her, even if you didn’t much care for her you didn’t want any animosity between the two of you. But she hadn’t wanted to know and you’d given up trying pretty quickly. If she wanted to isolate herself from the whole school then you’d leave her to it. You never imagined your paths would have to cross much again besides sharing the same maths class. But then JJ had happened. And it hadn’t meant to happen.

You’d been at a kegger, nothing unusual about that. But your friend had ditched you to hook up with a touron so you’d found yourself wandering around the fire pit alone and more than a little intoxicated. That’s when you’d bumped into him. You’d seen him around before but you’d never spoken nor had the chance to get a god look at him. And now you had? You were enchanted. His messy blonde hair wasn’t something you’d usually find attractive but it suited him. You got lost in his blue eyes, eyes full of hope and laughter. You’d spent hours sitting with him, talking and laughing. Until kiara had appeared and all but ripped him from your side.

“Kiara what the hell?” You’d asked jumping up from the log you were sat on with a glare.

“Stay the hell away from my friends.” She spat back with a scowl to match yours.

JJ had intervened before a fight could break out, he held kiara back, profusely apologising to you before pulling her away. He’d found you on Instagram the day after and sent you another apology and since then you’d been practically inseparable.

“Do you think we will ever tell anyone?” You ask. Your chin was resting against JJ’s chest as you looked up at him, the sunlight coming through your window casting an ethereal glow across his tanned skin.

“I dunno y/n.” JJ sighs, he hated when you brought this topic up, “it’s complicated.”

“I know,” you lift your head, reaching a hand up to caress his cheek lightly, “but I mean in the future. Surely we can’t hide forever.”

JJ lifts his head, eyes softening as they meet yours, “one day yeah. Don’t think I don’t ever want the whole world to know you’re mine, cause I do.”

You quickly crawl up his chest and plant a kiss to his lips, the smile on your face making it hard to kiss him properly, “I want the whole world to know I’m yours. I want kiara to know I’m yours, so she can stop eyeing you up.”

JJ rolls his eyes and drops his head back with a groan, “not this again,” you hear him sigh, “she does not have a crush on me, y/n.”

“Yes she does!” You sit up, straddling his lap so you could look down at his face, “you don’t see the way she looks at you! Also, you’re completely oblivious to everything. I was dropping hints for weeks before finally out right saying I liked you.” You roll your eyes.

“That was different! I just convinced myself you would never be interested in a pogue like me.” JJ looks up at you, a small shrug rolling off his shoulders.

“JJ you know I don’t care about that stuff.” You lean down placing a kiss lightly to his lips.

“I know that now.” JJ replies, placing his hands on your hips as he kisses you again.

—-

It had been months since you’d started dating JJ, seven to be exact. And you’d both done a pretty good job at hiding the fact from other people. Your parents were out most of the time and your neighbours were elderly so it wasn’t hard to sneak him in and out of your house. You’d been to his a couple of times but he liked to keep you away from his dad as much as possible and you were perfectly okay with that.

You were currently attending what you were sure would be the last kegger of the year as the nights were starting to get noticeably colder as winter rolled around. You had a hoodie on, oversized and pulled over your hands to protect against the chill. You found it increasingly hard to stay away from JJ at keggers, because every time your eyes found him there was some touron trying desperately to get into his pants. You trusted JJ but that didn’t mean you liked to see it.

Your eyes were only pulled away from the blonde as a commotion broke out behind you. You weren’t at all surprised to see Rafe tackling someone to the ground, Topper not far behind him. Before you knew it there was at least eight people rolling around in the sand fighting. You tried to get away from the punches but before you knew it someone had been thrown in your direction, tumbling into your legs and pulling you to the ground with them. You let out a squeal as you fell backwards into the sand, hurting your lower back as you landed.

“Get off of me.” You growled pushing the drunk kook away from your legs.

“Y/N!” You heard your name being shouted, the kook was lifted away from you and chucked into the sand and suddenly JJ’s concerned face appeared in front of yours, “are you okay?” He asks his hands coming to rest on your shoulders as he looks you up and down for any obvious injuries.

“I’m fine.” You smile resting your hands gently on his wrists, “my back hurts a little but I’ll be okay. People will see.” You tried to pry his hands away but he wouldn’t let you.

“I don’t care, that asshole could have seriously hurt you!” JJ complains, his hand moves to your cheek, “are you sure you’re okay?”

You open your mouth but you don’t get a chance to reply. “What the hell is this?” Kiara asks appearing behind JJ with a look of disgust on her face, “JJ? What the fuck?”

JJ looks at her over his shoulder, his brows furrowed in a scowl, “back off kiara, nows not the time.”

“I think nows a perfect time to explain what the fucks going on.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest as her friends join her, confused looks crossing their faces.

“Kiara-“ you begin but she cuts you off.

“I wasn’t talking to you! I swear to god if you’re messing with him I’ll beat the crap out of you.” Kiara steps forward, popes hand on her shoulder stops her.

JJ stands up, helping you up with him, “she’s not messing with me! We’ve been dating for seven months. We didn’t tell you because we knew this is how you’d react.”

“Seven months?” Kiara splutters out, “what the hell? If you’re using him for some plot to get back at me-“

“I’m not using him!” You step around JJ and closer to Kiara, “I have no plot to get back at you because I have no reason to! You’re the one with a problem here not me! I’m sorry that you’re like in love with him or something but he isn’t interested!”

“I’m not in love with him, you have no idea what you’re talking about.” Kiara steps forward again, now only inches separating the two of you.

“Okay let’s calm down a minute.” John B speaks up pulling Kiara back as JJ tugs on your arm, “I think we should hear them out before starting any fights.”

“Look, I’m sorry that I’ve been lying to you guys, but I knew the reaction we’d get. And we really like each other, we didn’t want anything to ruin it.” JJ explains with a sigh, “and in y/n’s defense, she wanted to come clean months ago, it was me who said no.”

“Well I didn’t see this coming.” Pope speaks up but he smiles and lets out a chuckle, “it explains why you’ve been so damn happy lately man.”

“You’ve really been dating for seven months?” John B asks with raised brows, you both simply nod in answer, “Look, I’m okay with it. Like Pope said, this is the happiest we’ve seen you in a long time.”

“Well I am not okay with this!” Kiara cuts in with a frown, “you know how I feel about her! I can’t believe you guys don’t even care.” She shoots you another glare before turning on her heel and storming off.

The boys watch her walk away for a few seconds before turning back to you, “we’ll talk to her, she’ll come around.” John B sighs and hurried after her.

“I’m happy for you guys!” Pope calls over his shoulder with a grin as he follows after his friend.

JJ lets out a huff of breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, “that went bad, but not nearly as bad as I expected.”

“Are you kidding? She wanted to smash my face in!” You complain.

“Babe, she always wants to smash your face in.” JJ looks at you with a cheeky grin, “but at least I can do this now.”

He grabs your hips and leans forward, his lips meet yours in a slow kiss, your arms wrap around his neck and hold him close to you, “and I don’t care who sees.” He mumbles against your lips before connecting them again.

[illneverrecover]

call you mine (M) | changkyun

➛pairing: Im Changkyun (I.M.) x reader ➛genre: friends with benefits!AU,  non Idol!AU, angst, smut, fluff. ➛word count: 2,741 ➛rating: M ➛warnings: idk this is truly some sweet soft shit, mentions of alcohol, friends with benefits, standing sex, slight rough sex, biting/marking because clearly I have a kink, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of Mingi!!, lots of kissing, soft clown Chaingang truly.  ➛summary: Changkyun knew he ruined your friends with benefits arrangement when he let his feelings be known, and now you’ve left him on read for weeks. So he does the only thing he can to stay sane - he religiously watches your Instagram stories. ➛notes: Another first for me - my first Monsta X fic! I’ve played around with writing Changkyun for a while now, mostly because I live to torture @taetaesbaebaepsae​ (which she deserves from all the PAINFUL and RUDE Baekhyun shit she’s written for me). However, she decided to actively commission her own demise, because she stays not listening to Namjoon and refuses to love herself. I’m glad I finally got a chance to take a stab at writing her ult, and I hope I did him justice! Enjoy your tomfoolery, Kristin! 💖 ➛song: Call You Mine -  The Chainsmokers & Bebe Rexha | Horizon - I.M. & Elhae

It’s pathetic, he knows.

The way he can’t stop watching, the way he seeks your face out in an app full of millions of others. The way he can’t get you out of his bed, his head, his thoughts.

He fucked up, scared you off, and now he’s left with the aftermath of his own stupidity. Watching you through a screen to fight the withdrawals off, to keep his heart beating.

Changkyun knows you would laugh at him if you saw what he was doing. 

Watching your Instagram stories is the only reason he’s heard you laugh in over two weeks, the only way he’s been able to see your eyes light up, your lips curve into a salacious grin. Things he fucking missed, thought he would have plenty of time to indulge in - until he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and ruined it.

He had taken you back to his place after a few shots of whisky at the dingy local bar, hands and mouth unable to leave your skin - just like the hundreds of times before. It had been four months since you had started this friends with benefits relationship, and despite having freedom to see whomever he wanted, Changkyun found himself only starving for you. So hungry that he couldn’t stand another moment in that place, watching you share your smile with anyone other than him. So he had tugged you close, nipped at your ear, told you that you were so damn beautiful that he couldn’t stand there another minute without you coming undone around him. 

You had smirked, slid your hand down the front of his pants, grabbing his cock like you owned it, purring out the words “prove it” before following him outside, just like the hundreds of times before.

Pressed up against his wall, his pelvis flush with yours, Changkyun whispered filth in your ears as he ground up against you, swallowing your moans in greedy kisses. Desperate fingers had pulled at your top, freeing your breasts for him to worship as he worked your skirt up around your waist, thrusting his clothed length against your core until you were whining.

Changkyun always promised to take his time with you, to work you over until you were drunk on his touch and pleading for more - but you never let him, always knowing the right thing to say to get his gaze to go dark and lust to turn frantic, to unzip his jeans and press inside your dripping cunt right there in the hallway. 

Just like the hundreds of times before.

You had come around him, digging your nails in his back so hard it left marks, made him growl your name against your collarbone as his thrusts picked up speed to fuck you through the high. You urge him on in the way only you can manage, begging for his release, whispering how much you want his come deep in your cunt. Biting down against the skin, he had spilled inside you with a final groan, hips twitching as he pumped you full of him, forehead resting against your shoulder.

Instead of pulling away immediately, Changkyun remained collapsed against you, breathing heavy. You had smacked at his shoulder, but he just chuckled, arms adjusting to continue a firm hold of your legs as he stayed inside of you, trapping you against his body and the wall.

“What are you doing, Kyun?” scoffing, you had grasped his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “I let you fuck me dirty against the wall without even demanding you buy me food after. Least you can do is let me get cleaned up.”

He had gazed up at you then, eyes piercing as they looked through you, and your heart clenched tightly in your chest. 

He knew he shouldn’t say it. Knew it would scare you off. And yet….

“I would, you know.” Swallowing thickly, his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Take you to go get food. If you - I mean, if you wanted. If you’d let me.” 

It was like he could see the carefully crafted defenses go up, the pain etching your brow and making your eyes go cold. Anxiety flooded his veins as you wiggled out of his grasp, sliding your clothes back into place as you moved towards his bathroom.

“You don’t mean that,” you murmured, faking a smile. “You know what this is, Kyun.”

“I do mean that!” He knew he sounded too eager, too pitiful, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I’d take you out to dinner. Or,” following you, he paused in the doorway, watching you appraise yourself in the mirror. “We could just get take-out and go somewhere private, drive to a park, bring a blanket and some booze, eat somewhere no one would know or bother us.” 

Your answering laugh had sounded wrong, like it had cost you something - like it was the last thing you had wanted to do. 

“Like a picnic? Changkyun, you’re saying you want to take me on a picnic? Like a proper date?”

Stuttering, he tried to explain himself, but you had cut him off with a single wave. 

“Listen, we both know I’m not that kind of girl, and you don’t want me to be.” Leaning forward, you had pressed a kiss against his mouth, your eyes somber when you had pulled away, moved towards the door. 

“What if I do?” His voice broke, wanting to reach out but his arms remaining stiff at his sides. “What if I want you to be that kind of girl, with me?”

Tears stung your eyes, your stomach sinking like you had been punched. You couldn’t do this, couldn’t handle the inevitable disappointment that would come when you got your hopes up.

“I’ll see you around,” you threw over your shoulder before shutting the door, and shutting him out. 

Just like the hundreds of times before.

It had been two weeks now since he last saw you in person. It wasn’t for lack of trying; texting you at all hours had proven fruitless, even when he tried to send the usual ‘you up’ message like he didn’t just lay his heart out on the line. You responded airily, non committal, and he knew what you were doing. 

You were trying to let him down easy.

So here he was, phone glued to his hand as he scrolled through to find your picture, clicking on it to see if there was any update. You didn’t post a bunch in your feed, but you had a tendency to update your stories often - filling them with silly memes and cute selfies, little videos of you going about your day. Cuddling with your cat, attempting to cook something for lunch. His favorite was when you would do tarot readings for your followers; the way your face would turn serious as you read the cards, passionate fire in your eyes as you helped deliver the message to its owner. 

Seeing you that excited and genuine did something to him, made his chest feel like it was going to explode.

He knows you can tell that he’s watching, can see the icon of his profile showing up at the bottom of the video under “seen by.” He can only imagine what you’re thinking when you see it - that he’s a loser, this friend with benefits who turned lovesick puppy, but he can’t make himself care. It’s the only way he feels close, can pretend you’re still in his life.

He never thought that he would need you, now all he wants is to see you - for you to answer him, to come back to him. 

Changkyun still sends texts, unable to stop his fingers from reaching out, despite knowing you’ll shut him down. He calls sometimes too, late at night when his blood is more whisky than plasma, though you never answer those. Instead he listens to your voicemail, eyes closed to stop the world from spinning, letting your voice lull him to sleep. 

He convinces himself he’s fine with this arrangement, that things would be alright. He can just miss you from afar, observe you live your life through the pixels of a screen. That watching your stories is enough for him, will keep him afloat.

Until he sees you with someone else.

It was another Friday night he was spending alone, half drunk and on his phone, looking for your picture. Taking a deep breath, he had felt his heart stop when he saw the rainbow ring adorning your profile photo, meaning you had updated your story. Sighing, he tapped it, hoping that it would be a few videos so he could pretend for just a moment that he was beside you instead of wasting space on his bed.

The first clip was a selfie, your heavily lidded eyes staring seductively at the camera through your lashes, making his pulse jump and pants tighten. The caption “gonna get drunk tonight!” scrolled across the image, right below the pout of your lips. The next was a small video of you making a drink, giggling about the mixture of tequila and soju you were tossing in your cup, whispering to the camera how it was going to get you ‘all the way fucked up’. But it was the third clip that had his chest heaving, his lungs forgetting how to work.

You were walking out your door, a few people cluttering your front porch as you asked if anyone had a light. Some tall red headed kid - Changkyun refused to acknowledge him as anything more than that - had shouted out, and you squealed as you ran up to him, sliding directly onto his knee before switching the camera into selfie mode to capture the two of you. The next clip was you in his lap, one of your delicate hands sliding through his hair as he gave you a big dopey grin, a cigarette perched on your lips as you cooed at him and told him just how cute he was.

Fuck. He knew that look of yours, knew those moves. Knew exactly what you were doing, what you were hoping to do with that fucking Mingi kid, and he couldn’t stand it, not anymore.

Taking a few deep pulls directly from the liquor bottle, his fingers flew over the keys of his phone, sending you text after text -  all of which were ignored. He knew calling would be pointless, that you would rather light yourself on fire than answer your phone - especially at a party - and he felt desperation creep up his throat, choking him.

Changkyun couldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t let you just forget about him.

Clicking back onto Instagram, he started sending you responses to the story video as he got dressed, throwing on the nearest pair of jeans and sliding on his boots.

<What are you doing? Why won’t you answer my texts? I fucking miss you.>

<And not just fucking you. I miss you. I miss us. If you want me to stay for the rest of my life, I will. You already got me.>

<Answer me, Y/N. Or I’m going to come over, see if you can ignore me to my face>

<Baby?>

<I’m on my way. Don’t take that kid to your bed.>

It took painfully long for the Lyft to show up, and he gritted his teeth the whole route there, knee bouncing to stop himself from demanding the driver to go faster, to just hurry the fuck up and get to you. 

When the car had pulled into your neighborhood, he tried to send another message, instead clicking a video. Too frustrated to change it back, he lets it record, his voice low and pained. 

“I’m on my way, please let me in.” 

You were alone on the deck when your phone started vibrating, the ding of an Instagram direct message making you click the app, eyes widening in surprise when you saw the number of notifications. 

Changkyun, all from him.

Awestruck, you scrolled through every line, your heart throbbing with each word he had written. 

You didn’t think he cared, not like that. Sure, he missed the sex, but that’s what you expected. That’s what all of them wanted when they sent you late night texts, when they called your phone at three in the morning. Empty promises and broken vows were what kept you company in the dark, when they’d predictably leave you alone with an ache between your legs and in your chest.  None of them really wanted you, cared about you. After a few weeks of ghosting, they’d all disappear into thin air like expected, and your heart would harden just a bit more.

But now…

Another chime pulls you from your thoughts, eyes flicking back to the light of your phone. Instead of another direct message, it’s a notification that Changkyun had updated his story for the first time in months. 

Shaking fingers slide against the screen, your vision blurring as you take in the shadowed back seat of another person’s car, the only light  neon pink from the sign of the Lyft drivers decal. For a moment, all you can hear is the quiet chattering of a distant radio, of someone breathing heavily. 

And then his voice croaking over the speaker, raspy with need. 

“I’m on my way, please let me in.”

The video fades just as a car pulls up to your curb, a flurry of movement as Changkyun climbs out, stumbles towards you. He all but collapses into your arms, his breath dripping with liquor, eyes reddened but burning fiercely.  

“Y/N,” he mumbles, hands coming to cup your face, thumb dragging against the smooth skin of your cheek. “I want to take you on a picnic.” 

You laugh, though it comes out more like a sob. “What? What are you talking about? Did you call a Lyft and come all the way across town to tell me that, you clown?”

His finger taps against your lips once, twice. “Shh. Just let me-” he sighs, stomping a foot. “Let me talk.” 

He waits until you nod before continuing, words surging from his mouth as if he couldn’t hold back a second longer. 

“I came all the way here because I want to take you on a picnic. I want to buy you food and take you on cute little dates and do cheesy things that make you smile at me like you are right now,” he grins, pulling you until your chest rests against his own. “I’m here because I couldn’t stand you ignoring me anymore. I meant everything I said - that I miss you, that I want to be with you, if you’ll give me the chance. I want to call you mine.”

Pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes fall shut, his voice fervent and barely more than a whisper. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

Tears brim your eyes, and you fight every old wound that tells you to shove him away, to call him a liar. Instead you allow yourself to follow your gut, your heart for what feels like the first time, leaning back to give him a watery smile in return. 

“I love you too, Changkyun.” 

His mouth immediately lands on yours, tongue eagerly tracing the seam of your lips until it’s slipping inside, tasting every inch of you, ravenous and unsatisfied until your knees are shaking. He’s walking you backwards towards the door, tugging at your clothes, and you giggle at his impatience.

Pulling away, you gasp for air, palm pressing against his shoulder to hold him back for a moment. “But listen, if I give you a chance, that means you have to stop stalking my Instagram, you creep. And don’t try to deny it, I see you all over my stories, lurking around.” 

He chuckles then, nipping at your bottom lip as his eyes darken. “Please, don’t act like you don’t love the attention,” 

Pushing the door open, he guides you inside, mouth working over your neck, arms wrapped around your waist until your back is flattened against the wall. 

“Plus, there’s no need, now that I got you,” he confesses, his nose swiping against yours gently before he captures your lips between his own, hitching your legs to drape around his waist as he grinds against you, humming words of praise.

Just like the hundreds of times before, but now as his.

[retromotherfuckers]

Six Years (Part 3)

Pairing:

Past/Eventual Bellamy Blake x Fem!Kane!Reader, Platonic!Octavia Blake

Summary:

Octavia knew who she was now, but you couldn’t figure out what the hell you’d become.

Warning: 

so much mf angst, themes of addiction and depression, self-destructive behavior and a tiny bit of comfort in there

Word Count:

2k (i got a little ~carried away~ lol)

A/N:

IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. i wasn’t happy with the og thing i had down so i literally just rewrote the whole thing in a few hours and it’s sm better than it would’ve been. me holding off posting this did wonders and i’m more confident in it too even tho i kinda think i suck at writing but also kinda don’t idk my self esteem varies wildly

Merry Christmas Eve Eve to those who celebrate ❤️

the gif (and all the other ones) are not mine and i take no credit for them

if you want to be tagged in any of my works, send me a message or an ask and i’ll add you :)

@shipshipshipau

The girl with aqua eyes - although now they were more of a spotted gray - had only seen one moment of weakness from you. It would be the last time Octavia had seen you, and you, her. 

“We’re surviving!” She had started shouting, as if she believed that set in a lower tone, her words would be construed as lies. “The human race is surviving! That’s what matters!”

“He wouldn’t be okay with this, and you know it!” Your voice broke involuntarily as it rose to match hers. You shook your head as you tried to desperately stop the ache in your chest as you brought her - probably dead - brother up. Tears clung to your eyelashes, waiting for you to blink so they had permission to fall. Your throat had been closed for a while now, and the rest was merely a weak cry. “If this is the price that we have to pay...maybe we shouldn’t be.”

You’d never know if it was the crack in your demeanor or your choice of words, but either way, her eyes softened when you spoke.

“Look at me.” You did as told and she gripped the back of your neck in one hand, pulling your forehead so close it almost came into contact with hers.

The air changed as Octavia came alive under the monster she wore for armor. Her mask coming off allowed you to let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. You would begin to regret not smashing the helmet to bits while it was off and vulnerable.

“You have to stop listening to them,” She said. “It’ll tear you apart. It’s better they get to live to hate us than die slowly and love us-”

“They don’t deserve this either, O-”

“We bare it, so they don’t have to. You’re the one that told me that. You can’t back out on me, now. I can’t do this without you.”

For so long you were okay with her needing you to do the dirty work. Besides the first time - when you did it together - she’d give the sentence and you’d see it through. Every single time, it felt like it was killing you more than them, but that didn’t matter, did it? If you weren’t going to do it, who would?

It was the last thing Octavia had asked of you and you had no intention of letting her down.

Bellamy didn’t know what he would see when they finally dropped him down into the bunker, but it definitely wasn’t that. Surrounded by more death than he was prepared for, he couldn’t help himself to not move his gaze around the arena. The fences between him and the living reminded him of the cages the Mountain Men held him in. The walls were stained deep with crimson, leaving the dull concrete behind it unrecognizable. He looked to the blonde at his side, and they asked each other the same silent question:

What the hell happened down here?

His whiskey shaded orbs kept moving, albeit reluctantly. They stopped on Marcus Kane, who looked so much older than last time. His hair and beard were inches longer and grayer than the natural brown he used to have. He was so pale, it was unnerving - almost as if he was close to death. They connected eyes briefly and that’s when the younger saw the deadly weapon held to his neck by the hands of-

No.

Your back was facing him, but it didn’t matter how long it had been, he’d never miss you. The locks that adorned your head were longer too, almost to your waist. The natural shade was faded though, like you had aged twenty years instead of six. He watched your shoulders heave and your hands start to shake as Kane talked to you.

He couldn’t pull his eyes from the impure red that dyed your skin and clothes.

While you were distracted, he chose to act, protecting Marcus from his own flesh and blood. He didn’t miss the gears in your head turning as your gaze landed on him. He saw your eyes sink into a trance of recognition and a deep sort of longing overtook your senses. The melancholic need you had tried to numb for half a decade came back in full force and held no mercy.

You remembered how he always smelled of the forest after the sky wept. You remembered how sure but gentle his touch was on your skin. You remembered how his remarkably soft lips would feel when they pushed against yours as they begged for more at every turn. You remembered how it felt to be wrapped in his arms, listening to his heart thump as he assured you everything would be alright, even if he didn’t think it would be.

Was that gone forever, now, too?

Bellamy noticed something else, though; something he didn’t recognize. Something he’d never seen before.

Something that scared him.

It had been hours since and neither of you had bothered to find the other. Getting everyone out was a great distraction for him. Talking to his little sister, whose eyes seemed to hold the same thing yours did, was another.  She had explained to him and Clarke that Wonkru had deemed her Bloodreina and you, Ripa. So, no, nothing as special as death from above or the red queen or the commander of death, but death, nonetheless.

People have done well not to forget that.

When Clarke told him you still hadn’t come out and no one had seen you, however, he didn’t have a choice anymore.

The halls were those of nightmares, spirits lurking around every corner and it was cold and empty. He knew the lights were kept low to save power but it felt almost purposeful, like they were meant to scare you. To tell you not to act out or some kind of monster would jump from the shadows and make you pay.

But he didn’t know if it was you or his sister.

A chill slithered up his spine.

If someone told him this wasn’t real, he’d do anything he could to believe them. He wished that he was seconds away from being shaken awake by Raven or Monty, and they would tell him it was just another nightmare. He wished he was still on the Ring, praying ignorantly to anyone that would listen that his family on earth were still okay. 

Breaking him from his thoughts, a yellow lamplight caught his attention. At the end of the windowless corridor, it shone out of a slightly ajar door. Using every ounce of strength he possessed to not walk away, he pushed it open. It cried at the motion, diminishing any and all remnants of silence that swallowed the floor.

His eyes found you catching yourself from falling caused by a failed attempt at standing. A half empty bottle of whatever works in one hand, the other one holding you up against the bed frame. The high-pitched creak pulled your attention to the front of the room with a furrowed brow and he allowed himself to take in your appearance.

A wrinkled, cotton shirt sat on your chest and it was a different one than before; faded white and thin, yet cleaner than the other one which was colored with blood. Your hair was damp - the result of taking a shower - but lazily tied back in a half-assed effort to get it out of your face.

You stared at each other for a minute. A million things were hitting your slow-moving thoughts at once, too much for you to even try to comprehend. He finally took one step towards you, parting his lips to say something but no sound came out. He was stumped, hundreds of words flooded his mind but not a single one sounded good enough.

Nothing he could say would make what happened in the arena okay.

It was unbearably painful. There he was, finally right in front of you, and you had no idea what to talk about. No idea what to start with, end with, bring up, discuss, laugh about, cry about, scream about. Nothing was good enough to say to the man that kept you alive for such a long time, such a long time ago. 

Too long ago.

You inevitably broke the silence, though your words came out cracked and in a slur. A defensive and humorless scoff left your lips, an effort to cover up the discomfort. Or it was because you were too drunk to shut yourself up. “You gonna say somethin’?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

You didn’t know why, but you hoped he’d sound different. It was childish and irrational, but you hoped that you could say you both changed too much and he would have nothing to hold against you.

Because no matter how far away it seemed, sometimes you could still remember what it felt like to be that innocent seventeen-year-old that hadn’t lived yet; what it felt like to be that girl who still couldn’t stand her father. To be that girl who sprained her ankle within ten minutes of being on earth for the first time. To be that girl who hadn’t made a friend aside from Clarke and Wells in her whole life. That girl who had just kissed a boy for the first time.

The girl who was loved and not lost yet.

“Well, that makes two of us.”

Where the hell did she go?

That made the room spin, and you had to blink a few times to make it stop, taking a seat on the thin mattress. You took a drink, making the liquid slosh from the base to the neck of the bottle and back again. When it settled, you rested your head between your shoulders as you heard him say your name. It bounced off the walls in the room, hitting each one again, and again, and again like it was a bullet waiting to find its target. You had wanted the word to fall from his lips for so long that you’d forgotten what it sounded like. You had forgotten what he sounded like, and you fucking hated yourself for it.

Then you realized he said, “Ripa,” and those four deadly little letters crushed your throat and stole the air from your lungs.

That name hadn’t felt right from the start, but it was what you had been simultaneously promoted to and reduced by. The only person who refused to call you that over the years, was your father. For two thousand days, he made sure to steer clear of it.

That’s not who you are and I know it, even if you don’t.

A sudden and hauntingly raw sob escaped, and you knew his eyes were on you in an instant.

“Don’t call me that,” You begged, meeting his gaze for the first time since he entered. Breath picking up, you were practically terror-stricken at the idea that all you were to him now was a murderer. You vigorously tried to shake the thought away, squeezing your eyes shut as everything that kept you numb seemed to vanish into thin air. “Y-You can’t-Not you too. Please, not you.”

Bellamy’s hand brushed your cheek and tears rained freely. You immediately leaned into the familiar and delicate warmth and you really fucking hoped this wasn’t your mind playing a trick on you.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” When he spoke this time, his words sounded choked too. His other hand cradled the back of your head as he pulled you into his chest and just...held you. “It’s okay.”

It was like you were standing at the edge of a building, teetering the edge before accidentally falling. Only, before you could plummet to your death, someone caught your hand, and it occurred to you that you really wanted them to pull you back up.

“Please don’t leave me again.”

Your voice was just so, so weak. Beaten down and broken.

“Never.” He said it with so much confidence and finality, you almost had to convince yourself it was real and not a dream. “I promise.”

[smugraccoon137]

Supergirl Season 2 episode 8 Medusa review part 2

If your curious part 1 was just my breakdown of Kara and Mon-els relationship that got way too long. But as always SPOILERS AND GAY THOUGHTS AHEAD

Me and kel get so excited when Lenas in an episode. Like practically giddy. I can’t help smiling when shes on screen honestly. And yes Katie McGrath is beautiful, but beyond that such a pretty smile and lovely voice. I’m sure ratings started to spike when she joined the cast. Okay enough about pretty girls on to the review 

Tipsy fucking Alex though guys I can’t get over this mess of a person. 

Alex: if I have to come out to my mom then I choose to do it drunk

Kara: no your not *yoinks beer*

Alex: wait no my coming out juice

Kara Danvers sneaky sneaker extraordinaire can totally interview Lena and find out Cadmus things without anyone knowing. The confidence this goofball has is top tier

Underrated relationship: Alex and Winn though. I really really love Winn and honestly Alex is such big sister energy to both him and Kara. 

wow Lenas pretty in the interview scene. A touch of auburn hair from the sunlight really makes this shot and we never get to see her with her hair down. Fan service honestly, or maybe she heard a certain beef cake reporter was gonna come by and wanted to dazzel her.

Lena: hair up is for business. Hair down is for flirting friendship time with Kara

Poor baby thinks she falls short nooooo. Your doing your best godamn your only like 25 jesus. Kara give her a hug she needs love and affection

Kara thinks shes being so sneaky in this interview. Such a golden retriever, bad at sneakin. As soon as she toes the line Lena catches on and kicks her out. Really good acting in the scene, the subtle change in expression to show Lenas guard raising. Good job Katie.

Real quick Lena why is your office so ugly? How do you keep it clean? You spend 99% of your days in this place and its whiter than a hospital room. I hate it. Why is your desk an oval? and why does it have a hole in it? Kara cant eat you out in secret anymore damn. 

OOHHHhhhh noooo the fucking gas bomb in the bar what the fuck. EVERYBODIES DEAD JESUS WHAT WAS THAT

Poor Mon-el. What happened at the bar was fucked up, and he feels like its fault when its obviously not.

Love that he and Kara are having bro time playing some Monopoly. Oh no not Kara asking if he likes her. Honestly thought these two had good chemistry in this scene. Im a sucker for dumbass not understanding certain words and phrases. So Kara having to reiterate her questions and finally being like “You don’t want to mate with me do you?” was super fun. Omegaverse vibes mfs. Although I am confused by mon-els reaction “I mean have you seen the kind of women I’ve been attracting?” I honestly don’t know what this means.

Kara internal reaction though: Oh thank god

Wow Kara really just has no regard for her own life, huh? she just opens the door and possibly contaminates herself. It’s good to want to help people, but love you gotta care about yourself too

Good reveal with the fortress of solitude. Oof Kara gonna feel like its her fault all those aliens died and mon-els sick. They do a really good job of showing Karas relationship with her parents through their holograms. She wants so badly to see them again, to talk to them. And she can, but not really. They just aren’t real.

Lena cattily to her mother: im used to celebrating holiday weekends alone at my desk

me to Kara: please invite her to thanksgiving

Okay so Lena being adopted is another interesting parallel to Kara. Also the fact that both Kara and Lena fall into there families shadows, and are left behhind or forgotten. Really interesting how Lena and Karas relationship is so similar to Clark and Lex’s for obvious purposes. Though the CW queer coding the fuck out of their relationship in Smallville really only adds to Supercorp fever. Its always been Homoerotic subtext Harold!

Me watching Lena and Lillian trade verbal blows: Wow ya’lls relationship is fucked up. Lex and Lionelle would spar and fence but you two are on another level jesus

oooooof that last line. 

Lena: I know your lying

Lillian: and how could you possibly know that?

Lena: because you told me you loved me. And we both know thats not true

Who wrote this jesus fuck my heart. The PAIN.

Bonus thought Lena thinks Karas smart. Goofball beefcake sneaky sneakster who doesnt know the difference between flirting and friendship is smart she thinks. I love these idiots

Wow Kara just doesn’t wait huh? Oh cadmus is going to be at LCorp? Not on my watch. Lena’s there. I know this because I tune into her heart beat just to check on her cus she likes to work late. Don’t worry Alex it’s for friendship reasons.

That LCorp security guard got princess carried for .2 seconds. Best moment of his life.

God its like dark out. Lenas working on a holiday weekend into the night. I hate this, give her friends.

Lena looks so scared when Kara gets thrown into the giant LCorp sign

And then hurt Kara looking up at her with dread.

Kara internal: fuck don’t come out now. I came here to save you

God I love the protectiveness. Its *chefs kiss*. Hank throwing the beam at Lena and Kara even in her hurt state throwing herself in front of it. Sometimes self sacrifice is gay. But how Lena looks at her after wards like “I can’t believe I’m alive. I can’t believe she chose to save me”. Met with a gruff “Get out of here!”. mm yes this is my kind of content. Fight for me.

I was robbed an aftercare scene but I doubt it will be the last time. (*COUGHS* the “im leaving” phone call *COUGHS*)

Talking about the virus Eliza: what about Lena Luthor?

Kara: What about her?! (super defensive is also a super power maam)

Winn: Luthors can be pretty good actors

Kara: No, I looked into LENAS EYES. She doesn’t know anything about cadmus or her mother

J’onzz: Would you stake Mon-els life on that?

well I guess that really puts Lena and Mon-el right next to each other in priorities huh? Which one is more important? 

Wow Lena totally has a crush on Supergirl after that. Flustered dork. 

Lena: *laughs nervously* you know that doors not really an entrance

Kara: *upsettit stone face pupper*

Lena: :,) 

Okay but the way Lena just says “Anything” all breathless and helpful when Kara says she needs her help. Shes crushin hard

Kara tells Lena her mother is in charge of Cadmus. 

Lena: >:(

Annnd the crush is dead. That did not last long. Really love that Lena has such a different relationship with Kara vs Supergirl though, good dynamic having her reactions so different. Which I believe actually relates as a Clark and Lois parallel? Seeing as how Lois has two separate relationships with Clark and Superman. 

OOf the way Lenas throat bobs with genuine sadness because who she thought Supergirl was is wrong. Shes just like the rest of them. Thinks Lena is just another crazy Luthor. It hurts

Kara: I know what its like to be disillusioned by our parents, but Im a pretty good judge of character, and you are not like your mother. She is cold and dangerous. And you are too good and too smart to follow in her path. Be your own Hero.

Wow just what a good line. They are capable of some things here and there arent they? Melissa's delivery on this is excellent. And the way Katie McGrath is able to show such depth of sadness and bitterness even from a shot of her BACK is really cool. Great acting in this scene in particular. And I can see why the “desperation to be good” is such a highlighted part of these two relationship. Its the one thing in common between Lena and Supergirl, the place where they can meet in the middle. And the way Lena looks after her as she leaves! AHHH thats the good shit, the pining

Okay big Mon-el scene in coming so if you dont want to hear my ranting skip over this part. 

Funny how as soon as Kara has this big impactful scene with Lena full of tension and emotion the writers were like: shit we almost forgot Mon-els dying. 

Kara: *staring sadly back into Lenas office kind of wanting to go back in*

Writers: *cough cough* KARA He’s DYINGGGG

Kara: Oh shit right. Mon-el Oh no. My *looks at poorly written handwriting on her palm* romantic interest?

Wow Mon-el looks like shit, poor guy. Someone swaddle this pillow princess and get him some soup.

Heres a question. Kara is visibly upset that Mon-el is dying. Is it because she’s sad that the guy shes likes is dying. Because her friend is dying? Because her father created the virus thats killing him (what the writers want us to think)? Or because no matter what Kara does the people she loves keep falling through the cracks and shes helpless to stop it?

Her parents. Clark. Her adoptive father. Now Lena. Now Mon-el. Why can’t she ever do anything? Why is it always her fault? This poor kid has some deep seeded abandonment issues

Mon-el: you know you look beautiful with the weight of all these worlds on your shoulders.

I do remember my reaction here, cus I thought this was a weird line. A line that was obviously meant to be romantic and complimentary, but it felt unsettled in my stomach. Coming back and watching the scene it sits even more uncomfortably there. He obviously means well, but this line is kind of just shitty. Its a very selfish and unthoughtful thing to say to someone. 

Kara’s entire fucking life has revolved around other people and making sure they are happy and taken care of. But having “failed” at such a young age to do the impossible things asked of her (carrying on Kryptons legacy, raising Clark) she overcompensates. Any normal person would just make their life revolve around their family and friends, not healthy but it works. But Kara feels responsibility over an entire world of lost people and lives. So the amount she overcompensates is ungodly. She does have the weight of worlds on her shoulders. This is not a joke or hyperbole. Its just her life. And thats so fucking shitty. And to have someone actually see that and acknowledge it. To make it a reality so to speak. Then to have them say “yeah you look good like this” while you’re a shaking Atlas being crushed. It is just a little too much isn’t it? That pain to have someone see you finally, and then completely miss the point. For them to go “oh wow your so strong. your so brave” instead of “let me help you. you shouldn’t have to do this at all, forget by yourself. But now I am here”. 

I imagine this was the scene that crowned my darling himbo boy Mon-Hell? Which is so unfortunate. I hope Im wrong, but I feel that his character might just end up a big missed opportunity

I want everyone to know that me and Kel screamed through the entire enxt few seconds of the scene. We knew the kiss was coming from how they were building it up. But god was it painful, especially for it to be delivered after a line like THAT. But yeah very loud angry screaming

Also not to be that bitch but Kara and Mon-els scene was a total of 1:53 RT, and Kara and Lenas ran at a 1:57 RT. Just sayin...

No Lena don’t be evil thats too sexy...

Okay but the way that Lena just tricks Lillian is so good. Shes so clever. And added bonus she makes her ask for her help, which is nice actually. Lillian's obvious vice is weakness and that is often shown in embarrassment. A woman like this asking for help borders that line of weakness and its nice to see on such a dislikable character. Lena didn’t just get what she wanted she got a point over her mother.

Lena looks good in the purple coat. Repeat she is pretty

Love the mental chess game between Lena and Lillian. Lena offering help right off the bat and giving her the isotope free of charge. And then Lillian making Lena launch the virus to prove herself. Good stuff.

Kara appears: don’t do it Lena!

Lena: why not? im a luthor

Okay so obviously Lena switched the Isotope and the Virus won’t work. But thats what makes this line so perfect. Throwing it back in Supergirls face. Like “Yeah, Im a luthor. And Ill show you what im capable of.” But instead of mass death and destruction Lena saves the day. She saved thousands of lives, and its because shes a Luthor that she was able to do that. Really nice way to full circle that 

Wow Lillian really just starts booking it without Lena, huh? bitch

I really love the scene of the virus falling all around National City. The choice of an orangish snow falling was a really really good one. Paired with some excellent music for the mid season finale.

Its sad but I do love Hank just being ready and at peace with death. Im sure he misses his wife and daughters. 

Okay but Lena calling the cops is tea. Send your mom to jail honey. 

So we’re really not gonna talk about how Lena saved everyones asses? Like don’t you think Supergirl would want to talk to the woman that A) kind of tricked her, and B) saved National City. Thats just what makes sense??? But no we’re going to ignore that the DEO is a kind of shit at their job sometimes. And that the woman that they were accusing of having a part to play in all the xenophobic shit is the one who did their job. BY HER SELF. 

Okay rant over. This was a long one review dear god. Really really good episode though. I enjoyed rewatching all the scenes even if it was a mixed bag of feelings. Thanks for reading hope you enjoyed all the screaming!

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

Ah thank you for answering my Stommy ask i loved it a lot. Can i get some more Stommy.

Okay so like what if Tommy finally sees what Steve's doing with the kids amd the mindflayer and acts like he's down to help and he is he wants to help steve.

But at the same time he has a bit of a breakdown infront of everyone and his whole bad boy persona drops and he's scared he didn't expect this, he didn't believe in anything like this before and he doesn't understand how steve does it.

Can i get some Johnathan being sympathetic to Tommy and sort coming to an understanding with him, and they get eachother, (i like to think that Tommy isn't rich like steve and is more like the byers than everyone thought. Like he comes from a broken home and all the fancy clothes he gets from steve)

Ooo and some tommy and johnathan being like ugh "rich people"

Will and Tommy moment though where will is like :O and Tommy takes him under his wing like Steve did with Dustin

Whoa this is long. Im so sorry. I hope you have a good day.

stommy for sure. thanks, hun!

===

He didn’t expect it to happen. He never really did, he would get a call from Hopper or Joyce or Dustin usually. Cancel everything and go play near death whack-a-mole for a few hours. He’s gotten real good at it at this point. Tommy was suspicious, started asking questions.

“Where are you going off to?” he’d shown up at the Harrington house. Steve wouldn’t let him in, his bag of monster hunting supplies and his stained nail bat poking out prominently. “Or do you have someone in there with you?” Tommy moved his head around to search behind Steve’s shoulders.

“No, Tom,” Steve put his hands up, “Some stuff just came up. An emergency.”

“Is your mother in the hospital? Is your father back home and he’s sending you out for errands so he can invite his side chick over—“

Steve leaned against the doorway, unamused, “—Come on, Tom, that’s not funny.”

But Tommy didn’t stop, “—Is Dustin sick? What’s so important that you had to cancel twice on me this week? Huh!” Steve closed his eyes for a brief moment, collecting his bearings. He stepped out and closed the door behind him.

“Look,” he slowly took Tommy’s hand, the other watching with clear suspicion. “I would much rather stay in with you and watch your stupid drama movies.” The other’s face twisted a little but he listened. “Hopper needs me right now, important, top secret, emergency.” He squeezed Tommy’s fingers a little with every accentuated word. “It’s best that you don’t know, you’re safer that way.” He had hoped that would get Tommy to back off. Wishful thinking.

Tommy shook his head and crossed his arms defiantly, “I’m coming with you for sure now. You don’t get to keep things like this from me now. No secrets.” Steve opened his mouth but Tommy pinched his arm, interrupting him. “No secrets! Okay? You don’t get to go risk yourself, or whatever you’re implying, and leave me in the dark!” Tommy stomped his foot and Steve had the mind to assume he’d been paying attention to all his sisters way of dealing with their own boyfriends. Tommy cupped both sides of his cheeks when Steve sighed. “I am your boyfriend,” he made Steve look at him. Tommy looked concerned, face wrinkled and cheeks pale. “I deserve to know.”

His shoulders sank as he gave in, “You’re not going to like it. Probably won’t even believe it.”

Tommy glared, “Try me.”

Steve went back into the house and grabbed his bag. Tommy quickly noticed the bat, obvious about it with his wide eyes not meeting Steve’s own and instead on the spikes peaking out over his shoulder. He didn’t ask yet though. Instead, he followed Steve all the way to the BMW and then got in the passenger side.

Steve looked over at Tommy sitting rigidly before starting the ignition. There were intense lines between his eyebrows and his lips were being abused by him biting them. He started gnawing on his fingernails when Steve made a decision.

He stepped out quick and Tommy startled, “Where are you going now?”

Steve leaned back in, antsy, “I’m going to get you a weapon.” Tommy looked like he desperately wanted to ask, Steve waited, but Tommy just sat back with his leg bouncing. He sighed again and Tommy glanced over at the noise. “You don’t have to come. It’d be better if you just stayed here until I get back.” Tommy folded his arms, leg still going up and down due to the weight of his hand not lessening it.

“Like hell I am,” he grumbled, “Go get me something if it’s so necessary.” Steve’s shoulders and ankles were tense and locked a little in place. This wasn’t going to end well even if Tommy believe him. He wasn’t supposed to add anyone else to the group. All he had as an excuse was Tommy’s unrelenting behavior and how immediate and stressed Hopper had sounded when he called. The excuse that maybe more help was necessary.

So Steve went to the shed and found a chain. A long iron chain that his father had used to hold the fence gate between theirs and the neighbors’ yards shut. He went back to the car with it in hand. When he sat back down Tommy stared wonderingly at it. Steve dropped it in his lap, the sound heavy as it slipped slowly to the car floor and clanked together.

“Can you still lasso?” he asked quietly. Didn’t want to trigger Tommy into some spell of hysterics.

Tommy swallowed and his eyes grew even more serious than before, “Yeah, yeah I can still lasso.”

Steve looked from the chain to Tommy’s face a few times, “Can you do to the same with that as you can a rope if we need you to?” He’d seen Tommy lasso, done some himself in the summers on the Hagan farm. Their small farm that housed loads of milk cows. It was a nice escape, mostly outdoors and their house was rundown only a little. Obviously warn from love and family and sweet time. Something real against the Harrington’s artificial capsule.

Tommy nodded again, “I can make it work.” When Steve didn’t catch Tommy’s eye for another minute or so, he started out to the Byers’ house. He could tell Tommy was trying to pay attention to the route but he kept messing with the chain. Steve knew he was forming it around to form the lasso correctly. Had seen Tommy sit on a bale of hay and mess with a rope the same way.

They pulled up to the dusty driveway and Tommy finally looked up with recognization, “Who exactly is involved in all this?”

Steve parked and neither of them moved, “Well, we’ve got all the Byers, Mike and Nancy Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, Dustin, and Hopper”

Tommy glared over at him and opened his door, “What kind of shit have you gotten yourself into?”

Steve only smiled thinly and he stepped out to grab his bag from the backseat before heading up to the door. Hopper was smoking and watched him as Tommy slowly gathered his chain.

“What did you do now?” Hopper didn’t sound surprised.

Steve could only shrug, “He insisted.”

Hopper took a drawn out puff, “Well you should have resisted.”

Steve turned his neck to glimpse as Tommy closing the car door, “You trying resisting a Hagan and then get back to me.”

Hopper raised a brow and flicked the ash off the filter, “Just keep him by you and make sure he doesn’t get hurt. I don’t want to have to explain to his parents.”

Steve rubbed his upper arm as Tommy walked up to his side, “Why would I get hurt? And what’s wrong with my parents?” he ordered defensively.

Hopper sighed and squished the cherry out in an outdoor ashtray balanced on the porch railing, “Nothing, kid. Your father just doesn’t like me.”

Tommy muttered something Steve only just barely caught, “You just can’t leave an innocent drunk man alone on a Friday night.”

“What’s that?” Hopper’s eyes narrowed. Tommy folded his arms and didn’t respond, only shook his head once.

Steve looked between the two. He knew Tommy’s father liked to drink sometimes. Mostly after a long day working on harvesting hay bales and tending to their cows. Knew his mother and Tommy’s sisters hated when he did. Tommy didn’t know how to feel, got mad at Steve when he tried to sympathize. A few of their fights had ended in Tommy throwing the fact that Steve’s father was never really around back in his face. Yelling he wouldn’t understand. Couldn’t. Not the same way.

“What’s the code?” he asked to break the heavy tensions, to at least try. Instead a new sort of shadow surrounded them.

“Orange,” Hopper took his hat off and rubbed his forehead, “Looks like more strays are picking off cattle at night. We need to go catch them.”

Tommy perked up, “Cattle? So you do know what’s been picking our calves off?” he shouted. “What is it? Why are you hiding it from the town? Us farmers!” He was livid and when Steve touched his arm to comfort, it was whacked away. He stepped back, a bit betrayed. The adrenaline in Tommy must have picked up already. He only acted like this when he was wound up tight and angry. Hopper was silent for a long moment as Tommy huffed his breaths in and out, upset.

He turned around to the house and said, “You’re about to find out,” before the door opened and closed.

“What is going on, Harrington?” Tommy asked, desperate now. Desperate for answers he hadn’t asked for. Made Steve annoyed that he allowed himself to get pent up again. Out of control of himself, the opposite of what they’d been working on. He took Tommy’s hands gently, at least thankful for Tommy allowing that much.

“I need you to take a few deep breaths, Sweetheart,” he used his calm tone. Used it for the kids when they got too scared sometimes. “This isn’t going to get any easier, so if you want to step out, do it now.” He waited and Tommy didn’t move, didn’t really do anything besides stare at him. “Is that a no?”

“I’m not leaving,” Tommy stated stubbornly.

“No one would think any less of you,” Steve said deeply, “We all wish we didn’t have to deal with this shit. You can go back home, you wouldn’t be able to tell people about this. The government will confiscate you otherwise.”

Tommy scoffed, “So my father isn’t some crazy conspiracy theorist.” Steve didn’t answer, didn’t really want to, didn’t think he needed to.

“It’s scary, Tom.”

Tommy puffed out his chest, “I don’t care. I’m staying with you and that’s final.”

The door opened and Dustin started yelling, “Son of a bitch, why is he here, Steve? Get your ass in here, we need to start planning!” Steve turned and Dustin started attempting to drag him up the porch. “We’ve got target on three different farms tonight.” He stopped and Steve almost tripped on the last stop. He asked Tommy, “Dont you live on one?”

Tommy’s shoulders rose, “What’s it to you?” Dustin glanced at Steve, who was giving a warning glance, shrugged his shoulders and headed inside again.

Steve grabbed the door and held it open for Tommy, “Come on then!” Tommy ran up and into the house, the warm waft of heat blown into their faces. Joyce met them first, Dustin rushing back into the other room.

She eyes Tommy worriedly, “Did you tell him anything yet?” Steve shook his head. She wasn’t mad, she instead waved then in more, “Well then we have quite a bit to catch you up then, huh?” she smiled welcoming. Walked them in through to where everyone was already staring over a map of Hawkins. Red circles around what Steve assumed were the farms being threatened.

Nancy’s face twisted, “What’s up with this?” she gestured to Tommy and his chain clutched in his fist.

“He wants in,” Steve shrugged and stepped forward to look at the map between Hopper and Dustin, “Not like we couldn’t use the help.”

Nancy scowled, “We can manage.”

“Yeah,” Mike butted in.

Steve glared at her, “Let it go, Nance. He’s here and that’s it, please.” She looked at Johnathan but John looked at Tommy just as openly as his mother had.

“You know how to throw that?” he looked at the dark chain links.

Tommy nodded and pointed to the west circle, “That’s my farm. Well, my dad’s.” He looked sheepish, like he was admitting something.

“Cool,” Steve heard Will whisper.

Johnathan smiled more just as Nancy’s frown deepened, “Didn’t know you were in the lower levels like us.” Tommy frowned and Nancy scolded John with a slap to the arm. “It’s just cool is all,” he defended himself from her onslaught.

Tommy grew confused, “Cool?”

John nodded, “Tuff,” he grinned. Tommy smirked and eased down, comfortably joining Steve by his side.

“So do I get the backstory or what?” Everyone else looked at Hopper.

The man rolled his eyes but relented, “Keep up,” he pointed at Tommy gruffly. The boy nodded and Steve planted a grounding hand on his shoulder. “When Will went missing he was actually trapped in a different dimension. There’s El, who isn’t here right now, she was an experiment.” His voice with filled with distaste. “ She has powers, telekinesis. She’s resting right now so she can—“

“Which is stupid,” Mike snapped, “She’s not ready—“ Lucas and Dustin elbowed him to shut him up.

Hopper didn’t even look at the kids, “She’s getting ready to fight the bigger problem, the mindflayer. Something that likes possessing people. Watch out for that,” he tipped his hat back. “But there are big dogs from that other dimension sneaking in like your average coyote onto farms. So we have to go out and clean them out.” Steve eyed Tommy’s face which was stoney. Hopper turned back to the table and map when he fingered Tommy had at least taken all of what he said in through his ears to process eventually. “We’re hitting it by groups. Joyce and I will go to Merrill’s. Nancy, Johnathan, Will, and Mike are going to Tinnerman’s. Steve, Tommy, Dustin, and Lucas are at Hagan’s. Got that?” he looked around. When no one disagreed he backed away.

Steve took his bag off and set it on top of the map, “You still have that tire iron?” he asked Dustin as he took out his lighter.

“Yep,” the kid nodded, “Still behind the house, I’ll go get it,” he ran off.

Steve only had to look at Lucas for an answer, “Got my pockets full of rocks and marbles this time.”

Steve smiled small but assuring, “Good.”

Everyone walked off to retrieve their own weapons or start their own vehicles. Except Steve and Tommy. Tommy was pale and his eyes were greyish.

“Hey,” Steve rubbed a thumb across his freckled cheek, “What’s going on in your head?” he whispered.

Tommy looked up and took in a shaky breath, “I’m ready to kill some monsters?” The questioning tone didn’t surprise Steve, the words did though. He didn’t ask, didn’t want to over work Tommy’s mind already. Not when they still had a long night ahead.

===

The Hagan property was the smallest of the three Hawkins farms. Fencing behind them that was meant to keep cattle on grounds, then a big barn, then the Hagan house. But it wasn’t meant to be called “small” either. The cattle were safe in the barn as long as they all stayed attentive and ready to kill off any demodog invaders. Simple, all in a days work. But Tommy was shaking like a leaf and Steve heard rustling from their right.

He stepped ahead a few steps just as Dustin and Lucas yelled out at the shadow creeping out of the trees. Tommy cursed loudly, so much so Steve feared Tommy’s mother would wake from it all the way in the house. He swung his bat to stabilize himself and then went to town on the thing’s neck, back, and head. It went down quick and others started coming out more and more. Lucas slung-shot his own ammunition and Dustin kept them back with Steve’s lighter and a can of hairspray.

“Can you get that one, Tom?” he shouted over the growls of a new dog as one ran past him to the fence.

It was a pretty quick success all things considering. The carcasses laid around Steve in wide diameter, gunk sprung all over the grass and tree bark. But as silence carried no more sounds carried out from the darkness.

He faced the group, Dustin parking things back into Steve bag and pulling out water bottles. Lucas was trying to wipe the sweat from his face.

Then Steve caught sight of Tommy standing still. Too still. He panicked.

“Tom?” he whisper yelled as he ran up to him. Grabbed his arms and then his head, “Tommy, are you alright?” Tommy’s pale face reflected streaks of luminescent tracks in the moonlight. His eyes looked frozen wide. “Hey,” he wiped away the tears with his thumbs and made Tommy make eye contact. Which seems to blow him out of his stupor. He started breathing sporadically. Steve hugged him and started breathing in and out exaggeratedly. “Match me, Sweetheart,” he whispered. Breathed in and waited as Tommy matched it. Exhaled and patiently listened.

By the time Tommy was lax against him, exhausted and adrenaline all gone, Steve had decided they were done. He snapped his fingers to grab Lucas and Dustin’s attention.

“Yo, call Hopper and see what they’re up to, please,” he threw one of Tommy’s arms over his shoulders. Started leading them back to his car a little ways away. Tommy wouldn’t speak, Steve had the mind to assume he was in shock. Knew the feeling himself. But the amount Tommy was still partially immobile on his own was concerning. “Can you signal to me how your feeling, Tommy? What can I do for you?” he asked as he opened the car door and worked his boyfriend into the passenger seat. He knelt on the wet road, his jeans getting damp at the knees.

Tommy finally made eye contact on his own and pressed his lips together, “That was scary.” Steve nodded understandingly. Tommy continued, “This is fucked,” he sat back and forcibly enclosed Steve hand in between his own. Steve distantly heard Dustin yapping to someone on the walkie talkie. “How do you all do it?” he asked exasperatedly. He deflated and shook his head, lost, “How do you do it all? You were amazing back there, didn’t hesitate or flinch.”

Steve smiled and leaned up to give Tommy a kiss to the cheek, “No one is going to be upset with you Tommy. We don’t even have to mention it. The important thing is,” he stepped back, “That we’re all safe and the dogs are done with.”

“But—“

“We won’t hold it against you,” he promised and Tommy closed his mouth slowly. Nodding in agreement a little reluctantly.

Dustin was messing with the dials on the walkie when he left Tommy there, “I’m gonna go clean the mess up, you two get in the car and wait.

Lucas stepped up though, “I’ll help.” Steve gave him a look but he persisted, “Please?”

He rolled his eyes, “I guess you’d be better help than Dustin.”

“Hey!” the other scolded.

Lucas flicked him, “Please, you gag every time the goo gets on you.”

“I wonder why!” Dustin called back as he got into the car with Tommy.

===

It was a few weeks later and Tommy was a little more comfortable in the Party and their occasional missions to take out other dimensional monsters. Tommy was good with the chain when he wasn’t completely petrified. Caught and wrangled multiple dogs out of the way on occasions. Sure he stopped out a few time but they didn’t fight him about it. Knew he knew what he couldn’t handle.

He was teaching Will a thing or two now. They each sat on logs in the Byers’ backyard with ropes in their hands and on their laps. Steve watched as he leaned against the back door doorframe with Joyce. Johnathan had tried to follow along but had quickly knotted his bad. Had encouraged them both instead as Tommy directed Will step by step.

Then, Steve joined them as they worked on tossing and capturing low tree branches. Tommy lassoed them all and Steve got some. But Will grew his skills fast apparently because he was right behind Tommy, grasping all the practicing targets with concentrated ease.

Tommy fist bumped the kid and Steve used his height to pull the rope back down, “Good job, Byers!”

“I was actually good at it,” Will beamed proudly. Tommy slung an arm over Wills shoulders and headed towards the house as Joyce called for dinner.

“You know, you should come take Steve’s place on the farm over the summer.” Will bounced on the souls of his feet a bit at the excitement and giggled when Steve scoffed dramatically.

“I’m just rusty.”

Tommy chuckled, “Come on, Byers One and Byers Two, let’s leave the Rich Boy to clean up.” Will laughed and followed him loyally.

Johnathan stood with a definite nod, “Agreed.” Steve stopped to watch them race to the house like they were all young boys.

Tommy fit in just fine.

[lustinglilac]

Disrespect

A/N: Garcia siblings are back baby! And this time, they get into some unwanted trouble at a local bar... (Platonic!Reader x Benny)

Warnings: strong language, sexual harassment, blood. *gif not mine*

Their late night bar “dates”, as she had named them, were always a good time. Pope and his sister stood on one side of the high-top table while Francisco and Benny stood across from them. Will hadn’t been able to attend tonight, though, having had some things to sort out.

She looked particularly hot tonight, blue jeans hugging her thighs and ass in all the right places paired with a dark crop top that stopped right at her bellybutton.

“Let’s fuckin’ go, baby!” Benny hollered as he downed his second shot, slamming the glass down onto the wooden table with a reverberating clink.

“Benny, we literally just got here.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“So what! You know you used to be way more fun, Garcia.” He scoffed, winking at the annoyed expression on her face.

“Oh, really? Okay. Me and Frank verse you and Pope. Let’s go.” She nodded her head in the direction of an unoccuppied pool table in the corner of the dimly lit bar.

Benny smirked at her, eyes flitting between Pope and Fish, “Why do I get Pope? You take ‘im, he’s your brother.”

“I‘m with him every single day of my life, give me a break, Benny.” She spoke a little too loudly and Pope had heard her amidst his conversation with Frank, making him frown, “Kidding, Tiago!” She cut him off with a tight smile as they made their way over.

“Alright, fair enough. What’re we playin’ for?” Benny drawled, passing down the pool sticks to his friends.

“Losers have to—“ Frank paused, thinking of a good way to end the sentence. “Losers have to go skinny dipping in the lake behind the high school!” He points his finger wildly in Pope and Benny’s direction.

“Frank?! And what if we lose? I’m not doing that!” She put her hands up, not wanting any part of that deal.

“I mean it would suck but I’m not arguin’—“ Benny smirked, weighing his options in his head.

Pope disagreed with a violent shake of his head, “We’re not doin’ that.”

Frank grimaced, slowly realizing that it probably wouldn’t be the best idea, “Yeah, never mind. We’ll just let the winners decide at the end.” He winked, nudging her softly making her laugh.

“Ladies first.” Benny bumped her shoulder playfully on his way past her, pretending like he didn’t see her standing there. She narrowed her eyes at him, pressing her lips into a thin line.

She leaned her body over the table, calculating her shot carefully before scattering the colored balls across the velvet. Only two had pocketed as she tried again, not being able to make anymore.

Frank shouted a compliment, high-fiving her as she walked back to him. She simply watched as the younger Miller took three easy shots, failing to make a fourth one.

“Your turn, Frankie.” She encouraged him to move towards the table as he set up his shot. Frank looked like a pro at it, showcasing his skills as he too managed to pocket three balls.

“Okay, Fish!” Her eyes widened, she raised her eyebrows at him, smirking at his talent.

“Y’all suck!” Benny taunted loudly, slapping Pope on the ass as he leaned over the table to get his shot in, “Get ‘em Pope.”

She gasped at his action, biting the inside of her cheek to hold back a laugh as not to distract her brother.

“Benny! What the fuck? Don’t smack my ass!” Pope grimaced at his partner, turning back around to focus on winning. He, like his sister, managed to sink two in and retreated back to the corner where his teammate stood.

“Let’s go, we’re halfway through. You got this, baby.” Frank egged her on, pinching her shoulders before she stepped up to the table once more.

Unbeknown to them, they’d had a few spectators watching as they played the game. They were particularly focused on the pretty girl with the gorgeous body who was currently setting up her shot, bent over the table.

“Hey gorgeous! Why don’t you come over here and bend that ass over my lap—“

Pool game completely discarded the moment the words left the punk’s mouth. Their pool sticks dropped to the ground harshly, wood on wood colliding.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Benny’s eyes narrowed into slits, turning his whole body to face the bar where the disgusting man and his disgusting friends were seated.

“Don’t— do not.” She pleaded with her brother and Benny and Frank. She tried to hold Pope back by his shirt to no avail. But they were fuming, no, worse, they were livid.

“Move.” Pope’s voice deadly as he spoke to his sister. Frank gently pulled her to the side out of Santiago’s way, she anxiously watched her brother approach the man who was bold enough to make a comment so lewd about his little sister.

“What? I can’t have some fun? She’s a pretty thing.” The drunk man slurred in his face, cackling obnoxiously loud as two of his friends riled him up.

That was all it took for Santiago to reel his arm back, landing a bone-cracking punch to the bastard’s face, knocking him full force off of the bar stool.

Benny stalked behind him, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides dying to get a shot in, “Watch out, Pope—“ He seethed eagerly, staring down at his bloody face.

His two friends did nothing to back him, shutting up immediately at the sight of the two revenge seeking men who had come to the “pretty thing’s” defense.

“Don’t you ever disrespect a woman like that. I’ll fuckin’ kill you— you hear me?! Motherfucker!” Benny had gotten the man pinned beneath him with his hands wrapped tightly around his throat, throwing in three punches for good measure and continuing to yell at the pervert.

“Frank— Frank you have to stop them.” She spoke hurriedly, begging him to go over there and stop the commotion. Fuck, she just wanted to go home.

Frank was torn between wanting to get in on the action or take her advice and stop his own friends from getting detained if the fight lasted any longer.

“Shit.” Frank muttered under his breath, running over to the scene, “Benny, enough man.” Frank grunted, pulling a very begrudging Miller off of the barely conscious body.

“Piece of shit.” Benny grunted with a final kick to his leg.

Pope had noticed the worker behind the bar had a phone to her ear, most likely on the line with the police.

“Let’s get outta here.” Pope spoke, wiping his knuckles on the back of his pants wincing quietly before taking his sister’s hand and leading the four of them out of the bar.

No one dared to stop them as they walked out, not one employee, they’d all heard what was said and they knew the vile man had it coming.

Once they were outside, she shut her eyes for a brief moment. Finally able to breath properly, she inhaled deeply, her lungs filling desperately.

“Bastard.” Benny grunted under his breath, face red with anger as he paced back and forth, trying to calm his rapid heart rate.

“We should go before the cops get ‘ere—“ Frank replied hastily, the faint sound of sirens approaching catching their attention momentarily.

Pope wiped at his mouth, “Hijo de puta. Fucking sick bastards.” He breathed out through his nose, leading them to where they were parked. He fished his keys out of his pocket slowly as not to disturb the swelling knuckle of his right hand.

She was quiet, getting into her brother’s vehicle silently, occupying the seat behind Pope as Benny settled in next to her behind Frank, their knees knocking together as he found a comfortable position, leaning his head against the window.

Benny was less heated now, his pulse returning to a normal rhythm, “Shit— we didn’t even get to finish the game.” He jolted upright, looking to the girl sitting beside him.

“It was a tie.” She remembered correctly, both teams had each sunk the same amount of balls.

“We were definitely winning though—“ Frank nodded his head, attempting to convince his friends that they would’ve been the winners had they finished playing.

“Not a chance.” Benny smirked at the younger girl who couldn’t help but scoff at him.

Coming to a harsh stop at a red light, Santiago hissed, “Fuck— my hand’s killing me. Benny, you alright?” He asked him, catching his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah— for now. I’m not feelin’ it yet.” He looked down at his own knuckles, the dark red blood drying on them.

“Well, we’re definitely not coming back to this bar anytime soon.” She hummed, looking out the window as they began to drive again, “Or ever, honestly.”

Benny’s arm absentmindedly wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him as she relaxed into his side.

“You’re getting real close back there, Miller. I don’t like it.” Pope eyed them warily.

“He literally just fought someone for me. It’s a gesture of kindness, Tiago.” She glared at him, one eyebrow arched in his direction.

“So did I!” He scoffed, raising his arms.

“Someone’s jealous.” Benny’s statement provoked him even more, making Frank laugh from the passenger seat and earning him a pointed stare from Pope.

Pope laughed humorlessly at him, “Just— keep a distance, please.” He grimaced.

“Whatever floats your boat, handsome.” Benny winked at him in the reflection.

She rolled her eyes, biting back a grin, pushing off of Benny and sitting back in her spot.

“I love fuckin’ with you, Pope.” Benny snickered, reaching over to grab at his shoulder pinching it between his fingers.

“Yeah, yeah.” The older Garcia grunted, rolling his eyes.

Tags: @chibsytelford

[evansfm]

𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣  𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧  &  𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧   :  𝗲𝘃𝗮𝗻  &  𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗶𝘀𝗲  .

eloise  connely  was  kind  above  all  else  .  nurturing  .  she’d  always  wanted  to  be  a  mom  ,  even  when  she  was  little  .  a  mother  first  ,  then  maybe  a  veterinarian  on  the  side  .  she  liked  looking  after  people  ,  and  she  was  GOOD  at  it  .  so  when  the  universe  gave  young  eloise  twins  ,  she  could’ve  sworn  the  heavens  opened  up  .  when  she  lost  one  of  them  eighteen  years  later  ,  she  thought  the  world  might  end  .  

but  there  was  still  evan  .  with  her  father’s  eyes  and  her  mother’s  curls  .  a  smile  that  could  light  up  the  room  and  dimples  passed  down  from  the  macalpine  side  .  rambunctious  and  reckless  evan  ,  with  a  heart  too  big  for  her  chest  .  one  of  the  things  eloise  admired  most  about  her  daughter  was  the  beautiful  way  she  moved  through  life  ,  stopping  to  feel  every  emotion  along  the  way  .  it  made  her  vibrant  and  empathetic  and  bold  .  .  .  but  it  also  meant  lows  felt  like  nosedives  .  and  this  was  the  kind  of  low  eloise  hadn’t  seen  in  YEARS  .  .  .  maybe  even  at  all  .  she  hadn’t  gone  numb  like  she  had  when  they  lost  beck  ,  and  she  wasn’t  quite  angry  like  she’d  gotten  with  her  father  .  this  was  a  kind  of  sadness  that  rivaled  london’s  storm  clouds  ;  it  was  a  kind  of  sadness  that  had  blue  eyes  void  of  the  wonder  she’d  clung  to  for  twenty  -  two  years  .  she  was  miserable  ;  anyone  who’d  known  her  for  so  much  as  a  day  before  all  of  this  began  would’ve  been  able  to  tell  the  difference  .  sometimes  it  felt  like  even  eloise  was  walking  on  eggshells  .  

“  ev  ,  come  ‘ere  a  minute  ,  ”  she  sighed  ,  inviting  her  to  sit  with  her  on  the  couch  . 

“  well  ,  t’at’s  a  tone  i  don’t  love  ,  ”  evan  sighed  ,  speaking  of  the  wariness  in  her  mother’s  voice  .  she  emerged  from  her  kitchen  with  a  warm  mug  between  her  palms  and  the  pitter  patter  of  a  dutiful  watchdog  trailing  after  her  .  dark  circles  formed  under  her  eyes  ;  curls  swept  into  a  braid  too  loose  to  contain  strands  around  her  face  .  at  least  she  wasn’t  puffy  from  crying  ,  “  can’t  imagine  t’is  is  going  to  be  good  .  ”

“  do  you  remember  much  about  your  father  leaving  ?  ”  a  thoughtful  crease  formed  between  eloise’s  brow  as  she  stared  at  her  now  -  closed  novel  resting  in  her  lap  . 

“  not  really  ,  no  .  there  one  day  ,  gone  t’e  next  ,  ”  evan  stiffened  ,  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  couch  next  to  her  mother  .  with  everything  happening  ,  tristan  connely  was  the  LAST  thing  she  wanted  to  talk  about  .

“  mhm  ,  ”  a  distant  hum  before  she  was  moving  to  abandon  her  book  on  the  table  ,  “  i  always  t’ought  i  was  doing  the  BEST  t’ing  by  moving  us  to  lorcain  and  starting  over  wit’  a  clean  slate  .  t’ought  i  was  doing  the  BEST  t’ing  by  never  talking  about  your  da  .  .  .  ”  hazel  eyes  shifted  to  her  daughter  ,  worry  clear  in  the  way  they  flittered  over  her  ,  “  ever  since  you  were  tiny  ,  you’ve  always  taken  on  ot’er  people’s  feelings  .  you  can’t  really  help  it  .  .  .  and  it  certainly  isn’t  a  BAD  t’ing  ,  but  it  was  hard  enough  on’ye  .  i  see  now  maybe  it  prevented  us  from  ever  TRULY  moving  forward  .  ” 

“  mam  ––  .  .  .  ”  evan  interjected  ;  she’d  never  blamed  her  mother  for  any  of  it  .

“  no  ,  just  .  .  .  hear  me  out  ,  ”  she  sighed  ,  rubbing  her  palm  over  her  forehead  ;  even  after  more  than  a  decade  she  could  feel  the  nakedness  of  her  ring  finger  .  she’d  never  remarried  .  .  .  never  changed  her  last  name  .  she  was  a  hopeless  romantic  after  all  ,  believing  everyone  got  one  GREAT  love  .  for  a  while  ,  she  thought  tristan  was  hers  .  then  she  had  the  twins  ,  and  she  knew  she  could  love  nothing  more  ,  “  i  was  young  when  i  had  you  ‘nd  your  brother  ,  and  being  a  mother  was  .  .  .  everyt’ing  to  me  .  still  is  .  i  love  not’ing  else  like  i  love  being  your  mam  .  but  i  was  SO  in  love  wit’  being  a  mother  ,  i  hardly  had  any  time  to  notice  my  marriage  was  miserable  .  we  were  bot’  miserable  .  what  we  had  was  gone  LONG  before  your  da’  left  .  and  t’at  isn’t  any  excuse  for  him  leaving  YOU  ––  i’ll  never  forgive  ‘im  for  t’at  ,  but  ––  he  ‘ad  his  reasons  for  leaving  ME  .  i  wasn’t  loving  ‘im  the  best  i  could  ,  and  he  wasn’t  loving  me  the  best  he  could  .  it  was  a  long  time  coming  ,  but  for  YOU  .  .  .  he  was  there  one  day  ,  gone  the  next  .  one  day  he  just  .  .  .  found  someone  better  .  you  trusted  the  two  of  us  more  t’an  ANYONE  ,  and  when  we  split  ,  ‘nd  he  went  ‘nd  got  remarried  ,  t’at  trust  was  BROKEN  .  .  .  ”

evan  kept  her  eyes  trained  on  her  mother  .  specs  of  silver  were  beginning  to  appear  in  her  long  ,  dark  hair  .  .  .  but  time  was  kind  to  eloise  connely  .  her  eyes  were  as  kind  and  welcoming  as  ever  ,  and  her  voice  did  wonders  to  soothe  anyone  .  .  .  no  matter  the  topic  .  still  ,  evan’s  voice  was  a  ghost  of  a  whisper  ,  “  why  are  we  talkin’  about  t’is  .  .  .  ”

“  because  right  now  ,  whether  it’s  true  or  not  ,  THAT  is  what  you’re  feeling  wit’  kieran  .  you  trust  him  more  t’an  anyone  ,  ‘nd  now  ,  ”  she  reached  forward  ,  tucking  a  rogue  curl  behind  evan’s  ear  ,  “  my  sweet  evan  .  .  .  now  you  aren’t  eating  .  you’ve  hardly  slept  .  and  whether  you  want  to  admit  it  or  not  .  .  .  he’s  all  you’re  t’inking  about  .  all  those  old  wounds  got  torn  open  and  filled  wit’  salt  .  and  t’at’s  okay  ,  but  .  .  .  ”

“  are  you  seriously  about  to  take  kieran’s  side  on  t’ings  ?  ”  evan  bristled  ,  immediately  turning  defensive  .  mikey  ,  ruairi  ,  conan  ,  adam  .  .  .  he  had  all  of  them  ;  he  didn’t  need  her  own  MOTHER  as  well  . 

“  no  .  absolutely  not  ,  ”  she  studied  her  daughter  for  a  moment  ,  then  exhaled  ,  “  but  he  did  call  last  night  .  ” 

“  ma  –  ”

“  and  i  answered  .  ”

“  MOTHER  ,  ”  evan  shoved  off  of  the  couch  ,  eyes  wide  in  panic  ,  “  i  told  you  ––  BEGGED  you  ––  not  to  meddle  .  ”

she  moved  away  from  the  couch  ,  both  eloise  and  ziggy  watching  her  with  careful  eyes  as  she  began  to  pace  back  and  forth  ,  back  and  forth  .  her  she  wrung  her  hands  ,  fingers  falling  over  each  other  in  nervous  fidgeting  .  a  habit  when  she  was  stressed  ,  when  her  thoughts  came  too  quickly  to  sift  through  .  kieran  was  always  so  good  at  calming  her  down  when  she  got  like  this  ,  gentle  hands  covering  hers  .  he’d  intertwine  their  fingers  or  kiss  the  inside  of  her  wrist  ,  tethering  her  to  himself  and  keeping  her  from  floating  away  .  .  .  or  drowning  .  she’d  forgotten  how  to  deal  with  it  on  her  own  ,  and  above  all  else  ,  it  made  her  miss  him  even  MORE  .  she  hated  that  she  was  missing  him  .  blue  eyes  darted  back  to  her  mother  ,  and  she  stopped  in  her  tracks  ,  wrists  flicking  to  shake  out  her  hands  as  though  she  was  getting  rid  of  excess  water  after  scrubbing  them  clean  .  i  shouldn’t  ask  ,  she  thought  ,  i  don’t  want  to  know  .  i  don’t  want  to  know  .  i  shouldn’t  ask  .

“  what  did  you  say  ?  ” 

eloise  shifted  ,  treading  carefully  ,  “  somet’ing  similar  to  what  i’ve  told  you  .  and  t’at  giving  you  SPACE  was  a  good  thing  .  ”

she  shouldn’t  ask  .  she  didn’t  want  to  know  .

 “  what  did  HE  say  ?  ”

she  hadn’t  spoken  to  him  since  the  night  he  called  ,  the  night  she’d  felt  her  heart  tear  entirely  in  half  as  his  voice  cracked  on  the  other  end  of  the  line  .  though  it  was  less  of  an  actual  conversation  and  more  of  three  days  of  emotion  blowing  up  in  both  of  their  faces  ,  evan  coming  down  on  kieran  HARD  .  the  pictures  were  fresh  in  her  mind  then  ,  and  the  thought  of  him  finding  someone  better  ,  falling  in  love  with  someone  better  ,  was  so  terrifying  ,  she  hadn’t  even  let  him  get  a  word  in  .  emotions  were  jumbled  up  in  her  head  and  searing  in  her  chest  .  she  was  ANGRY  with  him  for  not  listening  to  her  ,  for  brushing  things  off  like  she  was  just  a  silly  ,  paranoid  girl  .  she  was  angrier  with  bex  ;  rumor  or  fact  ,  the  girl  had  never  paid  any  mind  to  boundaries  .  .  .  or  to  evan  .  because  evan  was  NOTHING  to  her  ,  and  she’d  done  well  to  make  her  feel  exactly  that  .  she  was  terribly  SAD  ,  too  ,  as  she  felt  like  the  one  person  she’d  truly  loved  had  been  ripped  away  from  her  .  the  one  person  who  she  never  thought  would  hurt  her  ,  had  .  on  top  of  it  all  was  a  winding  confusion  ;  why  had  she  been  so  ready  to  believe  the  rumors  ?  why  would  kieran  swear  to  marry  her  one  moment  then  leave  her  the  next  ?  why  was  she  so  set  on  refusing  to  listen  to  him  ?  what  was  so  special  about  bex  .  .  .  that  made  him  want  to  throw  away  TWELVE  years  ?  where  had  she  gone  wrong  ?  why  wasn’t  she  good  enough  ?  

you’re  MORE  t’an  just  fucking  enough  for  me  ,  evan  .

she  could  still  hear  the  desperation  in  his  voice  ;  it  made  her  hate  herself  .  

“  what  did  he  say  ?  ”  she  asked  again  ,  barely  a  whisper  this  time  .

“  he  rambled  for  some  time  .  i  LET  him  ramble  for  some  time  ,  ”  eloise’s  fingers  lifted  to  the  birthstone  pendant  around  her  neck  ,  opal  for  october  .  when  she  spoke  again  ,  her  tone  was  even  more  careful  than  before  ,  “  sounded  like  he’d  been  drinking  .  ”

evan  straightened  ,  seemingly  snapping  out  of  her  own  wallowing  .  she  could  picture  a  happier  version  of  kieran  ,  drunk  in  a  pub  full  of  people  celebrating  the  beginning  of  the  found’s  very  first  headlining  tour  .  flushed  cheeks  ,  messy  hair  ,  crooked  smile  .  she  could’ve  kissed  him  that  night  .  in  retrospect  ,  as  she’d  tucked  herself  into  his  jacket  with  arms  wrapped  around  his  waist  ,  and  he  brushed  away  curls  with  light  fingertips  that  ultimately  tucked  away  behind  her  neck  .  .  .  maybe  she  should  have  .  then  again  ,  the  later  years  of  their  friendship  was  full  of  moments  like  that  .  and  the  flush  of  whiskey  on  his  cheeks  was  something  she  loved  paired  with  a  smile  .  to  celebrate  .  not  to  COPE  .  he  knew  better  than  to  step  even  an  inch  in  that  destructive  direction  .  she  could  only  hope  that  conan  was  looking  after  him  .  .  .

“  he  wanted  me  to  pass  somet’ing  along  ,  to  tell  you  somet’ing  ,  but  i  won’t  if  you  don’t  want  to  hear  it  .  ”   

evan’s  arms  folded  over  her  chest  ,  and  she  thought  about  it  for  a  drawn  out  moment  ,  “  go  on  .  ”

“  he  wanted  me  t’  tell  you  to  remember  what  he  said  to  you  the  night  before  he  left  .  that  he  meant  every  word  of  it  then  and  still  means  every  word  of  it  now  .  ”

she  clenched  her  eyes  shut  ,  arms  unfurling  to  press  the  heels  of  her  palms  into  her  eyes  .  of  course  he  did  .  .  .  OF  COURSE  he  did  .  because  amidst  the  photographs  and  the  rumors  and  the  distance  ,  evan  had  lost  sight  of  the  words  that  truly  mattered  .  you  ,  evan  ––  my  love  ––  are  t’e  love  of  my  life  and  you  will  be  even  after  i  take  my  final  breath  .  t’ere’s  no  one  else  .  t’ere  never  was  anyone  else  .  you’ve  seen  me  ,  and  i  know  you  .  i’m  not  going  anywhere  .  .  .  her  breath  hitched  ;  the  tears  crept  up  on  her  faster  than  before  .  THERE’S  NO  ONE  ELSE  .  it  was  just  as  true  for  him  as  it  had  been  for  her  ,  and  for  the  first  time  since  those  damned  photographs  came  out  ,  something  finally  felt  stronger  than  the  anger  and  the  sadness  and  the  confusion  .  

the  love  she  had  for  kieran  walsh  came  without  conditions  ,  and  somewhere  along  the  way  ,  he’d  learned  to  love  her  back  just  the  same  .  

unconditionally  .

the  only  thing  she  felt  absolutely  certain  of  was  that  no  matter  what  lay  behind  the  photos  and  the  rumors  ,  no  matter  if  he  hadn’t  listened  to  her  and  she  hadn’t  listened  to  h​​im  ,  no  matter  how  angry  or  sad  or  confused  she  was  :  she  LOVED  him  .  more  than  anything  .  more  than  anyone  .  she  had  for  years  ,  and  she’d  continue  to  do  so  for  always  .  

unconditionally  .  flaws  and  all  .  

“  fuck  ,  ”  she  swore  ,  hands  pushing  back  loose  strands  of  hair  as  teary  eyes  made  the  room  blurry  ,  “  i’ve  really  gone  and  made  t’is  worse  .  ” 

because  the  night  before  he’d  left  ,  he  told  her  flat  out  that  there  wasn’t  ANYONE  else  .  he’d  told  her  that  he  wouldn’t  LEAVE  her  .  .  .  that  she’d  have  to  break  up  with  him  herself  to  get  rid  of  him  .  he’d  traced  the  edges  of  her  features  and  whispered  that  he  didn’t  WANT  to  leave  her  .  he’d  held  her  face  and  told  her  that  he  belonged  to  HER  .  he’d  kissed  her  and  swore  that  she  made  him  happy  ,  that  he  only  ever  needed  her  .  

that  couldn’t  be  UNDONE  by  a  set  of  photos  .  it  couldn’t  be  undone  by  a  girl  with  ill  -  intentions  .

it  could  only  be  undone  if  the  SPACE  evan  asked  for  became  wider  and  more  permanent  ,  and  she  couldn’t  imagine  the  misery  .  she  couldn’t  imagine  a  future  without  him  .  no  matter  what  the  truth  was  .  

because  she  loved  him  ,  unconditionally  and  relentlessly  .  

“  i  t’ink  ––  .  .  .  ”  she  blinked  away  a  few  tears  ,  feeling  them  damp  on  her  cheeks  as  her  mother  came  into  focus  ,  “  i  have  to  go  see  him  .  ”

her  flight  to  new  york  was  booked  within  the  hour  .