#anyway I’m gonna go sit an a corner and rage over the fact that I’m crying over Rick and fucking Morty

[the-maladjustedjester]

I probably think this every time but legitimately season 7 is my favorite of all time now. I loved the stories they had, I loved the character development Rick’s been inching through, I could’ve had more Jerry but that’s my critique every season bc I have a fucking problem… the emotional connections and relationships were satisfying and felt real, and I love seeing Rick getting his ass handed to him every episode. It finally feels like he’s slowly clawing his way out of the hole he’s spent his entire life digging. And damn if the last scene didn’t make me tear up with an unexpectedness I hate to love.

[quotessharry]

Follow you (Vettel Jr one shot)

I had this idea and it took me so long to write but I finally finished it at 5:33 AM lol, anyway this is connected to Vettel Jr trilogy that you can find in my masterlist. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! Also this is unedited because I wanted to publish it as soon as possible

Song: Follow you by Imagine Dragon

Words: 2.9

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x OC

Warning: mention of Zak Brown

I’ll follow you way down to your deepest low

She was sitting on the bed, watching Daniel in the corner recording a video to announce his departure from his team. They were in Belgium, after the summer break she felt like he needed her to be present more though he had never mentioned or complained about it.

The season hasn’t been kind to the racer men in her life. First she had to deal with his father’s retirement and now the issues that Daniel was facing, she’d never say it bluntly to his face but the reason she’d prefer to be in Aston Martin garage instead of mclaren was because she hated the team, she hated what they did to him and she couldn’t do anything but to watch how the most loved man in his life was breaking on the inside but held his head high and smiled without throwing comments. After the contract issue she didn’t trust herself to go anywhere near the Mclaren because God knows she has words to give them. Her eyes landed on Daniel, she couldn’t believe how he was able to be nice like that, she was raging inside, she simply couldn’t believe they’d do her favorite-driver-turned-boyfriend this dirty.

“I’m finished” Daniel announced, walking towards the bed and laid next to her.

She glared at him “with the way you’re contract is going you sure are” she couldn’t help the comment. Daniel wanted to laugh so bad but tried hard to surpass it just to see her further reaction.

“Sorry too mean?” She asked with raised eyebrows, not really caring about the matter. Daniel didn’t reply and finally let go of the laugh that was suffocating his throat, he threw a hand over her shoulder and pulled her close.

“Does that mean you’re jobless for now?” She asked, Daniel wouldn’t take her comments personally considering both of them used humor to deal.

“Well yes basically” Daniel replied simply

“I hope you know that you need to get a job, I can’t provide enough to take care of a baby, life expanses in Monaco and send money to my retired dad in Germany” she tried to keep the serious face going but the more she spoke, the more her laugh came out. Daniel was laughing so much that his cheeks went red and he was hardly breathing.

They fell into a comfortable silence, Daniel’s hand landed on her belly his fingers lightly tapping “I’m gonna ask a question, be honest”

“You wanna ask if I will stay with you if you don’t get a seat next year?” She made another joke flawlessly

“I was about to ask how you keep making jokes about this so flawlessly, no but seriously, you want a girl or a boy?”

Daniel was thriving with the fact that she was pregnant with their child, he always dreamed of having his own kids one day and the fact that the day was only months away from him was unbelievable, the thought always gave him a warm feeling in his chest.

She turned her body and laid on him, bringing herself up to look at his face, after months she wasn’t used to seeing his face without staring. Everyday felt like the first day in Texas, everyday she would get lost in him as if it’s the last day but she couldn’t get enough, she took her time appreciating his big brown eyes and the sparkle in them, his five o’clock shadow adorning his jaw. Daniel noticed she was staring but didn’t interrupt her, he had never admitted it but he loved when she would look at him like he is the only person that matters, he could see the love she had for him just by this simple act.

A small smile formed on her lips “I want a boy, a little boy with your curls and your big brown running around, making everyone loves him just like her dad”

Daniel’s chest fluttered at her words, he felt like he might explode by the amount of love he had for the woman in front of him “funny you said that because I want a girl with her mom’s wit and sass, a mini you running around and causing chaos” she didn’t know what to say, she simply hid her blushing face in his neck and make a sound.

Daniel smiled lovingly, his hand kneading the hair on back of her head while the other rubbed her back “are you blushing?” She couldn’t see him but could hear the smug smile on his face. Her voice muffled when she answered “yes”

Daniel’s voice dropped lower “why hiding from me? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you literally have my baby”

His comment made her laugh but she still didn’t move, too obsessed with the way he smelled. She raised her head to speak “I’m not embarrassed I just love hugging you”

“Ok let’s stay that way then”

She was like a grumpy cat when they got in the car, rambling nonstop about how she hated his team and she was happy that he wasn’t going to be there anymore. She could see how broken race results were making him look like and it broke her heart, after each race that she wasn’t there she wished she could hug him tight and assure him that no matter what, she’d always have his back, all of which when she’d sit behind her laptop and cry. Daniel let her talk until he parked the car, before getting out he turned to her with serious face and wagged his finger “be nice” the authority in his voice had her stomach flipping and she nodded. Daniel opened the door and before getting out he made another comment “that’s my girl, come on they’re waiting for us”

Before they both use their pass, cameramen were all over them, throwing questions at him, the perfect Pr trained Daniel was he kept it quiet, only his brows kneaded, she didn’t miss his slight reaction. Between see of people she got closer and touched his hand, whispering “I got you Danny, ok? I’m here”

Seb was the first person they ran into.

“Dad! I missed you” she let go of Daniel and ran to him for a hug.

“Sweetheart, how’s the baby?” He whispered with a wide smile

“He is good thanks” she replied subconsciously.

Seb raised his eyebrows “He? normally you wouldn’t know the gender until week 16”

Daniel stepped in with an arrogant smirk on his face “she wants a boy to look like me”

“Oh so you want a daughter who looks like her right?” Seb mentioned, teasing the couple in front of him.

“You two, stop. Dad don’t you have to get ready for conference? Aren’t you two sharing a conference anyway?” She pointed at both men in front of her.

“You coming to Mclaren?” Daniel asked, looking at her now disgusted face

“You kidding no way, I’ll either go to Max or Charles or Lewis or my dad, I have friends around”

Her hate towards McLaren made Daniel laugh. Seb rested his hand on her shoulder “that’s my girl, when I’m gone you can carry the Vettel legacy”

“Danny my love don’t worry, you have my dad with you, no one’s gonna come at you ok?” She cooed, looking lovingly at the 33 years old man in front of her.

“I get it you two are in love, please not in front of me”

Michael was trying hard to stiff his laugh at the way she was looking at the McLaren garage. She followed Daniel to his driver’s room, waiting for him to finish changing for press conference and media pen.

She stood in front of him and looked up, she always loved the way Daniel would look at her with those soft eyes, filled with love. She touched his shirt, trying to smoothen up the collar “your arrogance and ego is such a turn on Daniel Joseph Ricciardo” she didn’t know why she said that, but she didn’t want to mention anything related to Formula 1 at the moment.

Daniel laughed at her comment, deeply appreciated the ridiculousness of it “does that mean you’re turned on?”

She made a duh face “I’m never turned off near you, now listen, whatever you hear out there just remember I’m always around the corner ok?”

Daniel’s face was a bit more serious than usual, she knew deep down he was tired and drained from all of it but kept a smile to show her he is alright, but at her comment he dropped some of the act, his shoulders dropped and he gave her an appreciative smile, leaned down for a hug and rest his head on her shoulder. She gladly let him rest before facing unpleasant stuffs, her hands securely around him “thank you, I love you you know that right?”

“I do, and I love you too, go give ‘em hell, or don’t you’re too kind for that” both laughed and Daniel headed out.

She stood in front of RedBull garage, watching Max heading out with two RedBulls in his hand.

“Long time no see, here, a free RedBull”

She eyed the can, dying to have a sip but she couldn’t because of the baby.

“No thank you I already had one in hotel” she lied and blinked

Max’s eyebrows kneaded “what’s happening? Why you’re saying no to free RedBull? You’ve never done this before”

She looked at Max like she is offended “really Maxwell? You see me after months and this is your reaction? I came to take shelter here and this is how you treat me?”

Max could see the hint of Daniel’s humor in her, he knew they’ve been spending more time together since Silverstone. He put a sympathetic hand on her back “how’s Daniel doing? Is he ok?”

She sighs, hands combing through her hair in frustration “he tries to be, you know how he is, but he is just really tired and as much as he wants to shrug it off I can’t, I am mad, he doesn’t deserve this”

Max shook his head in acknowledgment “you’re totally right about this, but uh did…did he know?” He couldn’t form the full question, he didn’t dare to ask if his own team actually told him they are going to terminate his contract.

“No Max he didn’t, I told him to fight back, to shit on them and say no but he said he can’t force himself when he isn’t wanted”

“They’re such an asshole and we know it”

Their session about shitting on Daniel’s team was interrupted by Charles happy voice singing “o bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao caio, I missed you so much” she didn’t have a change to speak as Charles threw himself on her, hugging tight. She gladly accepted and hugged back just as tight.

“Mate I’ll let you win Monza if you promise not to sing ever again”

To say Daniel was suffering was an understatement, he kept answering the same question over and over again in front of cameras that were filming and taking pictures repeatedly, he felt a deep tiredness in his muscles that even 3 weeks of summer break did nothing to solve it, but he was Daniel Ricciardo.

A question about him was thrown at Seb obviously, he turned to him with a smile and mentioned 2014 and how he beat him then he said Mclaren failed to extract his potential and Daniel felt like he wants to give the widest smile ever but he stopped himself.

Another question was for him, he gave an apologetic look to Pierre and Nicholas and they brushed it off with a look, this time he saw a chance to put the news out “ I mean I might take a sabbatical if things doesn’t really work out, you know to be there for the baby we have on the way and be the househusband” his wide smile was impossible to wipe, the thought of it made his chest burst in happiness and he wanted to scream it in the paddock.

“Seb did you know this?”

Sebastian laughed at the question “of course, they were in our house when it happened, we celebrated with a dinner”

Pierre leaned in, gave him a harmless bump on the shoulder “congratulations Daniel, can’t wait to see you as a dad”

Nicholas leaned in from other side “yeah congrats so happy for you guys”

The news travelled fast, Max was heading for an interview when he bumped into her “you know I’m offended you didn’t tell me personally, but actually never mind, you told me you wanna try for a baby during Silverstone and now you’re pregnant? What did you guys do exactly?” Max asked, blue eyes as wide as he could possibly get them, staring at the girl in front of him “sex, lots of sex, tons of sex everywhere”

Max couldn’t help himself, he smiled wide and genuine “but really, I’m so for you two, can’t wait to see mini Ricciardo in the paddock”

“Ah just the one person I was looking for” Lewis’ words stopped them, Max gave him a nod and left them.

“Lewis, you look good” he did, Lewis always looked good.

He gave her a smile “thank you, you too”

She could feel the fangirl within her was begging to be released but she had it under control “thank you for whatever you said about Daniel, really means a lot to me”

“Ah don’t mention it, I haven’t seen you in months come here give me a hug”

She noted how well he smelled when they hugged.

“Oh congratulations on the baby, I just heard the news, the kid is a lucky one” she felt too happy by his presence that she stood on her tip toe, leaving a light kiss on his cheek “thanks, you’re the best”

Lewis giggled at the kiss, rubbing his face “what was that for?”

She shrugged “just felt like it”

When she saw Daniel’s face she could swear she could hear her heart breaking, the usual spark in his eyes was gone and it looked like someone sacked all his happiness during the time they were apart, she hides the frustration in her face and clenched her jaw. The situation made her mad that her man looked like this, the man whose smile brighten up the entire paddock.

Daniel waved at her as they reunited in front of the garage with Lando joining them.

Lando threw his arms around both of them barely fitting them both for a hug “aw you guys congratulations, this kid isn’t even born yet and his luck is better than me, Daniel Ricciardo as a dad and Sebastian Vettel as granddad”

“See Daniel even Lando feels like it’s a boy” she pointed an accusation finger at Daniel.

“Yes I called it, it’s a boy”

She detached herself from them but Lando didn’t let go of Daniel “Daniel I’ll miss you so much”

Daniel touched his head and she felt like she was melting from the interaction in front of her.

“Aw, you said my kid would be lucky to have me as a dad, do you see me as a father figure?” Daniel tried to joke, making his voice thicker.

“What? No if anything I see you as a bother figure”

And they all burst out laughing.

She looked at Daniel with a smile “they all love you so much, no one wants you gone”

Her eyes narrowed “actually Zak Brown should be scared, Lewis gonna run him over with his scooter while my dad livestreams the whole thing on his new Instagram, we can ask Lando to do the same on his Twitch, on wait George and Charles are also in our team, I can ask Max to ask his dad to stab him, what do you say?” She announced proudly.

“All I will say is you’re insane and I love you insanely” he announced proudly, she was Sebastian Vettel’s daughter indeed.

After the race and media duty she left RedBull and went straight into the McLaren, too happy that no one noticed her. She looked around, Daniel was nowhere to be seen. She went deeper and looked at the back but he wasn’t there as well. She walked to the hallway and saw him on the floor, legs being sprawled on the floor and his face hidden in his palms. His curls disheveled due to the amount of time he ruffled them. He looked broken. She kneeled in front of him, not caring about her pants getting dirty.

She put her hand on his “Dan, Danny, hey look at me” her voice came out as a whisper, she was trying so hard not to cry in front of him.

Daniel’s eyes landed on her “oh it’s you, I missed you” he whispered back, no one was there but they felt like they needed to whisper to keep it between them. She touched his cheeks and he leaned in to her soft touch, the interaction soothing the pain and failure he was feeling deep inside. She moved closer and he buried his face in her chest, feeling like a defenseless child. She moved her hand and ran her hand in his hair, trying to give him any kind of a comfort she could offer. Daniel’s arms moved around her to pull her closer, he felt like the entire world was against him and he only had her. He hummed in approval against her, already feeling better “thank you”

“Don’t mention it, I got you darling ok? I’m here, you don’t have to talk” her thumb traced the line of his jaw and she felt the way his muscles tensed under her touch.

Daniel glanced at her, tiredness dripping off his every action “I’m so tired, let’s go home”

She leaned in closer and kissed his lips, he responded fast and kept her face close, needing to feel more of the kiss and her lips, it felt so sweet and he couldn’t help but smile in kiss, the act was very much needed and he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer and rested his back against the wall so she could lean on him. His lips tasted salty and she sucked on it, smoothing the act with her tongue. she stopped and whispered on his lips “yes, let’s go home”

——————————

Also this part “actually Zak Brown should be scared, Lewis gonna run him over with his scooter while my dad livestreams the whole thing on his new Instagram, we can ask Lando to do the same on his Twitch, on wait George and Charles are also in our team, I can ask Max to ask his dad to stab him, what do you say?” was inspired by a tweet from @/tayhatessevery1 on twitter!

[bringinghometherain]

Hi! This is for the wip ask game… I humbly request literally anything from the charlieverse… loved the series and I am starving for more!!

Hey friend! I'm gonna go 'head and give you this 700ish word thing I wrote for a Whumpuary 2023 prompt "failed escape / nightmares." I like it but I've never really found a spot for it within the larger story, so it's been sitting in my google drive for a while. CW for blood/gore.

If you're interested in looking at my WIP list and asking about it for the game, original post is here!

She was running, running through her family's home, and she could swear the back door was this way, but the hallways just kept going. She kept popping out into the main hall, and every time she did more people were looking at her, reaching for her. The third time she sprinted through the main hall a couple people grabbed at her, but the blood covering her bare arms made her slippery, so she wrenched herself free and kept searching desperately for an exit.

She turned a corner and found herself in the pantry, how on earth did she get to the pantry, and her father's pale corpse slumped crooked against the shelf, blood still oozing slowly from his neck. His pale eyes gazed out, empty and yet somehow still full of rage. Charlie tried to back out of the pantry without turning her back on the corpse, but several, no dozens, no hundreds of hands were on her, crushing her arms, her legs, her stomach, her throat. She tried to scream but couldn't take a breath in. She thrashed against the hands that were digging bruises into her flesh. Someone was calling her name.

The scene changed and she was standing on the deck of the Revenge, a uniformed firing squad taking aim at her chest. "For the crime of murder," a voice came from somewhere above, "You, Charlotte Walker, are sentenced to death." Charlie strained helplessly against the ties binding her wrists. 

Someone was shaking her. Someone was calling her name. She pushed and punched against whatever was in front of her. 

"Fuck's sake Charlie, wake up!" Charlie opened her eyes to a blur of grey beard and pale, scarred skin. In that same instant she gained control of her body and brought one knee up to connect with whatever it was that was shaking her. There was a grunt of pain and Izzy Hands stopped shaking her to curl around his gut, where her knee had just connected quite soundly. 

“Oh fuck,” Charlie croaked through tears, reaching now for him with open hands instead of the fist she had been aiming in his direction. “Shit, shit, I’m sorry –”

He stopped her with a firm hand to the center of her chest, holding her at bay while he breathed deeply and held his stomach. Charlie watched him with wide eyes and tried to remember where she was and why she was waking up next to the first mate. The events of the afternoon came back to her in a rush. The quiet lunch, his hand brushing against hers on the table, her thigh pressing against his under the table. Going up to his rented room – oh that’s where she was, okay, she knew where she was. Over Izzy’s bare shoulder, the window showed the last red rays of sunset.

Now that the man was uncurling and breathing normally, Charlie placed her hand over his where it pressed against her breastbone. “I’m so sorry, I don’t usually have nightmares like that, I thought you were attacking me –”

“It’s fine,” Izzy sighed, opening his eyes to speak. The golden-brown color of them was mesmerizing in the light of dusk that came in through the window. “And yes, you do have nightmares like that, quite frequently in fact.” 

She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt – Izzy’s shirt? Whatever shirt she was wearing. “What are you talking about?” 

“At least as long as I’ve been on the Revenge, you have two or three a week. With the screaming, anyway.” He shrugged.

“What – why doesn’t anyone ever wake me up?” Charlie demanded. 

“I was told the first and only time someone tried that, Frenchie got socked in the nose,” Izzy said, “After that they decided to let you sleep through them.” He absentmindedly brushed his fingers through her hair, sending tingles down Charlie’s spine. It stopped all thought for a moment, until his words sunk in.

“I punched Frenchie? Oh my god,” she rolled onto her back, away from Izzy’s touch, and covered her face with her hands. “No wonder they all treat me like their little sister, I’m having nightmares in the group sleeping area.” 

“Oh, you love being the little sister,” Izzy drawled. She removed her hands from her face to glare over at him. 

"I take back my apology for hitting you," she sniffed. He rolled his eyes.

[mara-xx217]

Pokes head

May I request Michael being a possessive daddy and fighting a killer who hurt his girlfriend ? It can be anyway you like 💙

Why of course you can~ This isn’t based in Dbd, but the normal world. Hope you don’t mind!

Possessive, Protective Mikey

You were like some sort of disease to Michael. Or, perhaps, a parasite was a better descriptor of how you affected him. You wormed your way into him, deep into his chest, right beside his cold, soulless heart. You made him… feel, regardless of what that actually meant, it was beyond unacceptable in his eyes. That warm, painful throbbing in his chest was more than distracting, it was nauseating, disturbing. Terrifying… In a sick, twisted, wrong way, you terrified the Shape of Haddonfield. Michael fucking Myers was absolutely terrified of a small, defenseless creature that was completely helpless against the evil and cruelty he wielded against the world. He should kill you a hundred thousand times over for this transgression! But… it wouldn’t make him feel any better. He only… feels more empty every time your cheeks are stained with tears. Cold. Dead. Michael would feel dead without you…

This isn’t the first time he’s caught someone hurting you. It’s happened many, many times over, and his reaction has ranged from blinded rage to searing hatred. Not just for the one harming you, but towards you, yourself. It was that lack of control that drove Michael insane. He couldn’t watch you 24/7, couldn’t always follow you around or know where you were at any given moment… It drove him fucking crazy, and he took that frustration out on not just the asshole unfortunate enough to have crossed paths with you, but onto you, as well.

But, even that was quickly losing its luster to him. Michael had thought that hurting you would bring him some sort of fulfillment, like it has always done in the past when he had hurt others. It never has, though. Sure, he’s lied to himself, trying desperately to convince himself that seeing you all small, all scared and teary-eyed brought him a measure of enjoyment, to have your blood on his hands, to have you groveling in terror before him- but it didn’t. It- He- Michael felt… not good, when that happened. You made him… stop to consider how his actions would affect you, and he hated that.

Michael despises that you’re a magnet for trouble. That you just can’t seem to stay the hell away from people that want to do you harm. Sure, he doesn’t mind killing them. Quite the opposite, in fact, he rather enjoys seeing them covered in their own blood, begging for their pathetic lives before he mercilessly snuffs them out. No, Michael hates that you get hurt in the first place. The only one that should ever have the right to put their hands on you was him! Him, and him alone. Anyone else would be destroyed.

Some wannabe serial killer punk had set his eyes on you. Luckily for you, Michael knew better than to leave you to your own devices, anymore. He caught the little bastard scoping out your home before you had any idea of the danger you were in. He’d make sure that, this time, he’d be in complete control of the situation. You won’t be hurt, but that idiot thinking that he can do as he pleases? He’s going to regret the day he was born…

Sitting in your kitchen, you drank what must be your fifth coffee of the night. Strange things were happening, and it left you unable and unwilling to sleep at night. Rustling outside your windows, the sound of someone possibly jimmying your doors and windows, looking for a possible way in… Muddy footprints on your porch and small, dead animals left on your door mat… It was becoming too much. You’re… pretty sure it wasn’t Michael. He did love to torment you, but this wasn't really his thing. He was much more… direct, with his approach to you. This… this was someone else…

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you rub your eyes, feeling them water involuntarily from how dry they were. Anxiously, you tap your fingers on the top of the counter, before sighing heavily and grabbing your coffee mug. You decided to make your way to the living room, thinking that some TV would help calm your nerves and get your mind off of things. Fuck, I’m exhausted… You thought bitterly as you crashed onto the couch, nearly spilling lukewarm coffee all over yourself.

Picking up the remote, you absentmindedly flipped through channels, not really wanting to watch anything. It was just something else to focus on, rather than the impending sense of dread that was washing over you. This feeling was one that you were well acquainted with: the feeling of being watched. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your palms were slick with sweat. Slowly, you sit up, clumsily placing your mug on the table in front of you. The hairs on your entire body stood on end. Something’s not right here…

As you begin to rise off the couch, a firm hand pushes you back down into a sitting position. Your heart jumped up into your throat. You’re very familiar with Michael’s hands, and the one still gripping your shoulder was much, much smaller than his… Short, shaky breaths escaped through your clenched teeth. Fuck..! Oh shit- Oh my God no no no-! You don’t dare to move, only stare straight ahead at nothing as your mind runs wild with possibilities. Who the hell is it?! How did they get in?! Why me?! Where the fuck is Michael when I fucking need him?!?

The intruder sucks in a deep breath, as though he’s about to say something, but instead yelps in surprise as he’s ripped away from you suddenly and violently. You gasp, shooting up and scrambling across the room, back peddling into an opposing corner. Curling in on yourself, you crumple onto the floor, watching the brutality unfolding before you through the cracks of your fingers.

Michael had thrown the intruder back, sending him crashing into a mostly bare bookshelf, breaking most of the shelves along with it. You cringe and jump, feeling your insides twist and revolt against you. Michael drops to the floor, straddling the winded, smaller man as he desperately tries to fight back. Vainly. It was laughable, really. The idiot didn’t stand a chance against the human incarnation of evil, itself.

Michael briefly debated on playing with his food. There was something about seeing them crawl and beg that really set him off, but when he glanced at you over his shoulder, in the fetal position and hyperventilating, he actually decided against it. It was getting under his skin seeing you like this, and the quicker this is… inconvenience is dealt with, the quicker things will be back to normal. Well, to Michael’s fucked up definition of the word “normal”, that is.

With a quick stab to the back of his neck, the intruder was killed. Normally, Michael would have painted the walls with this creep’s blood, but he decided that it would be too much of a pain in the ass to clean up. With a flick of his wrist, Michael twists and pulls out the blade, wiping the excess blood onto the back of his victim’s shirt. He looks back over to you, and sees you stiffen. His… Huh. His chest actually hurts…

With a heavy sigh, he stands, stepping over the dead body as he makes his way over to you. A major part of you was beyond terrified. Is he gonna hurt me..? Oh- Oh God..! I’m gonna- I’m- I’m gonna..! You were trembling, shaking so hard that your teeth were actually chattering audibly. Michael’s eye twitched. He was conflicted: one part of him loved that you were this scared of him, as you should be, but the other… the other hated it. He- Well, he wanted… something, but he just didn’t know what. Fingers twitching, he reached out to you, struggling to ignore how you froze as he slowly approached you.

You really thought that he was going to grab you by the hair and drag you off to the bedroom, so when his fingertips just barely brushed the top of your head, moving the hair from your face, you were, well… at a bit of a loss. Michael has never, ever been that gentle while touching you. Ever. You raise your head slightly, just enough so that you could see him. He still had that damn mask on, of course, and his body language hardly betrayed what he was thinking or feeling, but- You couldn’t deny that his fingers were trembling ever so slightly.

He slowly crouches in front of you, treating you as though you're some kind of animal that will either bolt at the slightest movement or go for his jugular, or something like that. You don’t move or speak, unsure of what he was doing. When he placed his hand where that stalker touched you, gently- carefully squeezing your shoulder as though you were made of glass, you… you relaxed.

You could tell that he was struggling to be gentle, with how his fingers twitched uncontrollably and the pressure of his fingertips varied. You looked up to him, then down at his chest as an odd warmth spread through your cheeks. Michael was extremely possessive over you. He hated it when you interacted with anyone else, especially other men. But, right now, even though another man had touched you, he wasn’t flying off the handle like he usually did. He was still extraordinarily pissed off that he had given the bastard just enough time to physically touch you, but it was remedied.

He was fucking dead, and you were still here. You were his and his alone. That wasn’t called into question. There was no dispute. Michael Myers is the only person that is ever allowed to touch you. You’ve come to accept this, and slowly but surely, you’re even beginning to enjoy his touch. As sick and messed up as it was, you’ve started to develop feelings for him, despite the fact that he made your life a living hell. If anything, you knew that no one would hurt you ever again. No one, except for him.

[erwinsvow]

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬.

summary: your boyfriend, reiner, has always been possessive. you never minded it much, though.

warnings: college!au, rough sex, sir kink, grinding/teasing, doggy style, creampie, dacryphilia, reiner is a tease, angry reiner/upset with reader, jealousy, reiner treats you like a rag doll but who's complaining

the party’s in full swing, hoards of college kids hammered off of cheap beer and dancing to loud music. you sit on the edge of the couch, trying your best to avoid the couple going at it on the sofa seats next to you. you’d leave to give them some privacy, despite the fact that they’re in front of a hundred other people, but there’s nowhere else to sit.

and so, not ready to give up your chance to rest your sore feet, you sit there and wait patiently. your ankles are crossed as you finish off the last of your soda, looking around and realizing that you might be the only sober person here. you’re fiddling around now for no reason, with no one to speak to, adjusting the skirt of your dress and twirling a piece of your hair with your finger.

from across the room, with a red solo cup filled with the very same cheap beer in his hand, eren’s eyes land on you. a pretty girl, all alone at a party, with an empty drink. he was raised right, so knows that’s close to a crime.

at least that’s what he’s telling himself as he makes his way over to the couch in the corner, eyes burning holes through you as your eyes glance around the room, avoiding looking at the couple next to you.

eren turns to the couple first, one sharp glance making the boy alert, and pulling away from his girlfriend.

“hey, floch, go roofie your date somewhere else. i’m sitting here now,” he says firmly, causing floch and the girl to take off scrambling.

you glance up at the stranger who approached you with thankful eyes.

“you didn’t have to do that, but thank you anyways,” you say, finally sinking into the comfort of the couch.

“of course i did. that idiot would’ve given all these people here a show if someone didn’t stop him.”

you let out a laugh at his words, glancing back down at your shoes as you debate if it was a good idea to keep talking to him.

“i’m eren, by the way.”

“nice to meet you, eren,” you reply, once again gazing around the room and avoiding his eyes. eren waits another moment before speaking again.

“and you are-?” he questions, intrigued that you weren’t engaging in the conversation. he enjoys the chase, anyways.

“not interested,” you say with a gentle smile, trying not to seem rude despite the fact that you’re sure of eren’s intentions.

“oh, is that so? well, i think i can change that.”

“i’m sure you’ll try, but i don’t want you to waste your time. i’m sure there’s plenty of girls here who will talk to you willingly, so thank you for the seat but-”

“can i get you a drink?” he interjects, taking a long sip of his beer and wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “beer? shots? i can go find some of the good stuff, if you want.”

“i’m okay, eren,” you say, a little annoyed and clearly a little anxious.

“oh, come on. it’s not right for a pretty girl to have an empty cup at a party. it’s like the first commandment.”

“i think that might be blasphemy.”

“oh, whatever, the second commandment, then. i mean, would you rather sit here and be all alone?” he questions, leaning back into the seat.

“who said she was here alone?” a deep voice says from around you. you look up to see your boyfriend, reiner, with two cups in his hand. he does not look happy.

“braun,” eren addresses, looking up at the blond from his seat and not adjusting his posture at all. you’d expected eren to at least be a little intimidated at the sight of your looming boyfriend, as most guys usually were, but he looks more amused than anything else. “who would’ve thought you’d go and get yourself such a pretty date,” he says with a smirk. his eyes are still on you though, raking up and down your figure and focusing on your exposed legs.

reiner puts down the two cups in his hand a little too hard, the liquid sloshing around at the top and landing on the surface on the small table in front of you.

you glance up a little hesitant at reiner, knowing the effect eren’s words are having on him.

“she’s not my date, she’s my girlfriend, asshole,” reiner replies, bringing his arm around your shoulder and holding you closely to him. you play right into it, leaning into him and smiling back cutely at eren.

“sorry, did i not mention that?” you say sweetly, as eren’s eyes react to the sight in front of him. he lets out a low whistle, standing up and lifting a cup from the table, taking a big sip. “well then, guess i underestimated you after all, braun. call me when you get bored of him, baby,” he says, before walking away.

you feel your mouth drop open at the audacity of his words, his implication. you know reiner won’t take it well either, feeling yourself grab for his hand before he can follow eren to pummel him.

“reiner, baby, don’t get mad, he’s just an asshole-” you begin, before reiner’s head turns back to look at you.

you saw a whole host of emotions in his eyes, which were usually calm and sweet and looking at you with all the love in the world. but now, in the dim lighting of the party, they were almost glowing with anger and rage, and something else you couldn’t figure out, something akin to a primal look that raised all the hairs on your neck and sent a shiver through your body.

you feel reiner’s hand tighten on yours, as he leads you away from the party and to an empty room somewhere down the hall. you’re not exactly sure where, since it’s your first time in this stranger’s house, but as reiner puts you on the bed and locks the door, you can hardly care.

he looms over you, caging you in and making you feel completely submissive as his strong arms hover near your head.

“you think it’s funny talking to yeager? letting him think you don’t belong to me?” reiner says in a deep, low voice that makes you press your thighs together tightly. it doesn’t take much, if anything, from reiner to turn you on. his possessiveness only adds fuel to fire for you, sometimes.

“no- no, reiner, i would never-” you start, shaking your head dumbly and stumbling around your words as reiner pulls off his shirt, revealing his toned chest. your hands have a mind of their own, moving to grab his shoulders as you normally do, but reiner’s quicker than you, taking your two hands and pinning them above your head roughly.

“you’re using the wrong name, baby. you’re just begging to get punished today, aren’t you, you little slut?” reiner says, eyes looking over your body intensely and making you squirm. you’re uncomfortable with his gaze because you know what he’s thinking.

“i’m sorry, sir,” you mewl back, trying to move your hands from the harsh position they’re in, but to no avail. reiner’s grip is air-tight.

“i can’t even say you’re a good girl tonight, baby, because you’re not. now i see why you chose such a slutty little dress to wear tonight. you just wanted attention, didn’t you?”

“no, no, sir, just you- i just want you-” you say back, desperate for any contact and bucking your hips up uselessly.

“i don’t think you deserve me since you’ve been such a slutty girl.” his words are harsh, making your eyes tear up despite how unbelievably wanton you feel underneath his body. your head feels almost dizzy, overcome with so many different emotions.

tears are always reiner’s breaking point. he can never deny you once he sees those pretty eyes of yours well up and become watery just from his words and touches. and despite how badly you need to be taught a lesson, he knows he’s gonna break soon.

“i-i’m so sorry, sir, please- please touch me, i’m begging sir, i’ll be a good girl, i promise- oh!” you’re cut off as reiner’s other hand cups your pussy, palm against your clit and making you grind your hips against his hand desperately. he tears your panties off quickly, discarding them in the stranger’s room without a thought.

“tell me how that feels baby,” reiner says, releasing his hand from holding your wrists to grope at your chest, pulling down the dress just enough to free your tits.

“so good, sir, oh-!” your words fall apart as he continues his motions. you’re so desperate for his touch, to be filled up by him, you’re not aware of how loud you’re being and you certainly don’t care. reiner holds down your hips and moves his hand roughly against your clit, as you feel your body tense up with a strong heat in your core.

“cum for me, baby,” you hear reiner say next to your ear, increasing his pace as you feel the heat in your stomach expand and fill your entire body, the waves of your orgasm washing over you as you scream out reiner’s name.

you’re panting out, tongue lolling out and limbs feeling like jelly despite how reiner’s not even remotely done with you. he flips you over quickly, putting your head down and ass up as he pushes up your dress to expose your gushing cunt to him.

you’re still trying to catch your breath when he pushes into your tight hole slowly, without any warning and causing you to scream out again.

“sir-!” you moan, feeling reiner slide in and out of your wetness at a bruising pace. you feel his balls slap against your pussy, adding to the intense stimulation you feel and curling your toes as he continues. “please- please! i-i, can’t-” you cry out, unsure of what you were pleading with him for.

“what do you need, baby? don’t you want my cock? you want me to stop?” he says, not easing up on his motions. he’s enjoying every minute of having you fucked stupid from his cock.

“no, no- don’t stop, no!” you moan. you let out a squeal every time reiner thrusts.

“such a good girl, takin’ me so well, baby,” reiner says, sending the praise straight to your head and making you feel dizzy as you feel his fingers on your clit.

“i love you, reiner, i love you-” you hiccup, gripping your hand tightly on his as he increases his pace and his fingers at the same time, sending you into your second orgasm. you’re almost screaming now, clenching down tightly on his cock and squirming within reiner’s tight grip as you feel the coil in your stomach snap and heat spread all through your body again.

reiner’s increased pace only lasts a little while longer, his hips stuttering and him cumming inside you with a loud moan. as you feel the hot ropes of cum settle inside your throbbing cunt, you pant and keep a tight grip on reiner as he pulls out and lays you on his chest carefully.

the sheets on the stranger’s bed are certainly ruined, and so is your make-up and hair. you can’t even imagine what you look like, or what your dress is covered in, but you don’t really care.

all you can think about is reiner’s hands wrapped around you and his lips on yours as he pulls you into a deep kiss.

“have you learned your lesson, baby?” reiner asks. you think back quickly on how reiner hadn’t even wanted to go to the party, but you had insisted, and how you had picked out the shortest dress you could find, and how you didn’t walk away from eren when you knew reiner was coming back.

“yes, sir.”

[lavishedinjimin]

bts reaction -> you do something that upsets/angers them

woah! finally, a new reaction post?? 

(all gifs used are not mine!) 

Namjoon:

Well, well, well, what could you have possibly said to create an argument with Namjoon. He, for one, doesn’t like arguments. He would instead talk to you and settle all the problems without raising his voice.

But if the argument does get too far, he’s making sure that he gets his point across, even if his words might sting.

Namjoon sits on the edge of the bed, looking up at you who was standing in front of him with your arms crossed.

“I did nothing wrong, Y/n,” he states with a deep yet calm tone, “You didn’t tell me that I had to run errands. How would I when I’m in the studio with the boys?”

He raises his brow when you stomp your feet on the wooden floor. Eyeing you up and down, his blood slowly rises when he feels like you’re acting insensitive.

“But you knew that we had no groceries left!”

Namjoon suppresses his anger like he always does, “Stop being selfish, Y/n. Tell me, who’s paying your bills?” he points his chin out.

“Hey, I pay half of our bills!”

“There you go. That just means you also shouldn’t be depending on me so much when I’m busy doing work, okay?”

(aln: this gif is so fucking hot istg i’m on my knees) 

Seokjin:

You feel the other side of the bed dip, signaling that someone had come into bed with you. Peeking your eyes open just slightly, you feel your body relaxing as you finally saw Seokjin after a long, hard day.

“Hey, darling,” you whisper, scooting closer to him to hug his body. Seokjin murmurs something under his breath, but you didn’t quite grasped what it was. 

Seokjin moves around, furrowing his eyebrows as a groan escapes his mouth. “Please…”

Ignoring the word, you instantly scatter his face with kisses, kissing his forehead and down to his plump lips.

“Not now, Y/n.”

“Why?” you pout, “lemme kiss you. I haven’t seen you all day.” You continue your mischief on him, placing open-mouthed kisses all over.

With eyes still closed, he pushes you away with both hands.

Shocked, you look at him in awe of what he just did.

“That’s so rude,” you scoff.

“I just want to sleep, Y/n. I’m tired and I don’t want to talk.”

Silence fills the room as you sullenly observe him pull the covers over his body. He rubs his face with his hands as he lets go of an exasperated sigh. “Get over it. I had a bad day, okay? I just want silence and a night of good sleep, that’s all I want right now.”

You know how Seokjin gets mad. His words are his weapon. You think that it’s much better leaving him alone than further pushing his buttons. Tomorrow will be another day.

Yoongi:

Yoongi doesn’t get angry that often. It’s quite impressive how he can calm himself down and avoid the anger. But it’s also alarming – because whenever he does get angry, he can become outright terrifying and a guilt-tripping madman.

“Is it because I don’t talk to you enough?” Yoongi alarms through the phone, the rage in his voice evident even though you can’t see his face. “Huh? Is it because I don’t give you enough attention?”

“It’s not like that! You have to understand that he’s just a friend!” You grip the phone tighter in your damp hand. 

“I bet that guy treated you better, hm? I bet that’s the reason.” Yoongi’s voice was filled with bitter sarcasm as he speaks. The tone of his voice makes you clench your fist in annoyance. It was clear that he was manipulating you with his words, but there’s nothing you can do to stop him.

“You know what? Whatever, Y/n. You do whatever the fuck you want. I don’t care. But get ready for when I get home, you’re gonna get some serious fucking punishment.”

There was a long, thick silence after his sentence. You can feel your heartbeat thump loudly in your chest, upset in both yourself and in Yoongi.

“It isn’t my intention to upset you,” you sigh, “you’re the one that I care about. Always.”

“Then show it to me.”

You gasped. Are your actions not enough for him to believe you? 

Hoseok:

Hoseok can be immensely intimidating when angry. Those eyes that can show the sweetest candy smile, with a single wrong move, they can turn into the most devilish gaze someone has ever seen.

Even his members find him scary whenever he’s mad.

As you watch the band practice their choreography for their performance next week, you couldn’t keep your eyes on Hoseok. The way his body just moves smoothly without any imperfections at all, it was clear that he was made for dancing and performing on stage.

Park Jimin calls off for a break and the members rush to their respective corners to catch their breath. Hoseok walks to the other side of the practice room where he sits down. Until suddenly, Jimin comes to your direction with a sly smirk on his face.

“Did you like the choreo?” he says, voice sort of raspy and out of breath. You giggle, “Yes. It was fire.”

“Mhm…” he places his hands on the table in front of you and leans forward, making your eyes widen. What is he doing…?

His eyes were almost slitted, licking his lips. You can’t help but notice small droplets of sweat trickling down from his temples and to his jawline, and how the light reflex the dampness of his neck. “Were you watching me?”

“H-Huh?” You stutter, mouth agape. “Yeah. You’re so good, Jimin, as always,” you respond while tucking your hair behind your ear. 

Jimin’s grin widens, satisfied with your answer. Before he can give a verbal reply, Hoseok was right behind him and he swiftly pushes Jimin aside. He gives him a ‘look’ paired with a shake of his head. He whispers something to Jimin as he walks away.  

Hoseok lifts his chin whilst he looks down at you with those menacing dark brown eyes. “Are you enjoying your time here?”

“Well,” you gulp, “Yes.”

He looks away for a second, brushing his hair back. You can hear that he took a deep sigh. Placing his forearms on the table, he stares directly into your eyes. His irises burn deep into you as he takes a heavy breath, “You know how possessive I am of you, Y/n. Only—” he lifts his right hand and caresses your cheek, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip, “only look at me.”

Jimin:

Jimin was clicking away on his laptop as he sits on the barstool, eyes glued on the screen for he didn’t even notice that you’ve walked up behind him. Slowly, you wrap your arms around his waist. His body jumps in utter shock.

“Babe,” he groans, “don’t do that again. Don’t surprise me like that.”

His tone was plain and sharp, bringing an attitude that signifies that he is annoyed.

Perhaps he needs more love and attention?

Inhaling his scent, you rest your cheek against his back. The sounds of the keys clicking were slowly becoming irritating, so you snatch his hands away to hold them in your grasp.

“Wha—Y/n!” he yells, but you unrightfully ignore him.

“C’mon, baby. Just rest for a while and come cuddle with me instead—”

“Cuddle?” he turns the stool around so he faces you. He scoffs, “You really want us to cuddle right now? When I’m in the middle of work?” he raises his voice at you, making you feel small. Trying your best not to be hurt by his razor-sharp timbre, you stand your ground. “Stop fucking annoying me and let me do my job, okay?”

“I’m just trying to—”

“—Just trying to help, yeah.” He rolls his eyes. “Please just, just leave me alone for a couple of minutes.”

But he will feel so fucking bad afterward, though. Jimin lets his emotions get the best of him and he used you to let it all out. You understand him, nonetheless. He is the type to bottle up his feelings. But deep down, you wish he would tell you everything that’s been bothering him, without having to keep them for himself. 

Taehyung:

Taehyung rarely gets mad at you. But whenever he does, he’s quick to apologize and forget about the situation because he doesn’t want to cause a much bigger problem.

So, stealing his food from the fridge wouldn’t annoy him, right?

He was supposed to come home early for tonight, but he informed you that he’ll be a little bit late because of traffic.

Although your hunger couldn’t wait any longer.

Taking the box of food out of the fridge, you did not hesitate to gobble them all up to feed your rumbling stomach. You know for a fact that he’s going to empathize with you anyway.

As he comes home, though, you weren’t still finished and he stops his tracks when he sees that you were eating his meal.

“Y/n!” he gasps, “This one is yours!” he says, raising the takeout box he bought on the way home. “You said you wanted Chinese, didn’t you?”

Uh-oh…

You slowly stand up from the dining table, walking your way out of the area with his food still in your hands with a little cheeky grin.

Taehyung pouts as he whines out your name, “I hate it when you do this! I was craving for that!” He stomps his foot, “This is so upsetting, you know.”

You feel your heart clench at that, “I’m sorry…”

“Come here, you!” Taehyung all of a sudden, runs to catch you, signaling your fight or flight response. You shriek and dashed all around the dining room, trying to avoid Taehyung as much as possible. He had his arms sprawled across like an eagle, cackling.

Once you let him catch you, he hugs your body tightly in his grasp. “Hmm? You’re so naughty, babe. You know I can’t get mad at you for too long.” He grabs the food box away from you and sets it aside. He whispers, “But don’t do this again.”

Jungkook:

“I mean, look at her, Jungkook. Doesn’t her face irritate you?” you inquire at him, showing an Instagram picture of that one girl you despise. She had her whole butt on screen, tongue out, showing off her long acrylic nails.

Sitting on the couch beside you, Jungkook purses his lips and looks at the screen. “Hmm.” He says plainly.

“Goddamn, whenever I see her in real life my saliva turns sour, y’know? Ugh¸ I hate her so much.” You can feel your nerves rile up, throwing your feet on the coffee table in front of you.

Jungkook speaks, “What has she done to you?” he says in a monotone voice.

“Uh,” you turn to look at him, raising an eyebrow, “Why?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “Just wondering.”

“Okay, fine,” You roll your eyes, “She has done nothing, all right? But—”

He laughs unexpectedly, making you crease your forehead both in frustration and perplexity.

Jungkook himself was never the type to create arguments or say what he feels out loud. He would most likely internalize his thoughts and opinions and waits for the perfect timing to affront.

But if there’s a moment where he a situation feels unfair, he’s not afraid to stand up for what he believes.

“You know that’s wrong, darling,” he sighs, scooting over to you. He swings his right arm around your shoulder and tugs your figure closer. “There’s no reason to hate someone without having a definitive reason. C’mon, just ignore her if she bothers you so much.”

You frown, “But…”

“But what? Baby, if you do this one more time, I’ll be very upset. More upset in you than I am right now.”

Immediately, you jerk your head to look at him. With puppy dog eyes, you apologize, “Sorry.”

[realcube]

trying to be nice to their crush hcs

navi | masterlist | taglist

thank you to 🍦anon for this cute request!

characters: tsukishima, kyōtani, sakusa & suna

content warning: swearing & sexual references 

kei tsukishima 

♡ this is all yamaguchi’s fault （︶^︶）

♡ he found out tsukki had a crush on you bc he mentioned you a lot in conversation so yamaguchi interrogated him for answers then lo and behold, the beanpole had a lil thing for you 

♡ you sit in front of tsukishima in homeroom while yamaguchi sits beside him so when you leaned back and asked him if you could borrow a pencil and he spat back a snarky remark about you being too irresponsible to care for your own pencils, yamaguchi hastily offered you one of his own before scolding tsukishima 

♡ he explained to his clueless friend that being nasty to people isn’t a good way to get them to like you 

♡ so perhaps he should be nicer :)

♡ honestly, tsukishima would’ve just looked yamaguchi straight in the eyes and went ‘no’, if it wasn’t for the fact you shot tadashi the sweetest smile anD PLAYFULLY BLEW HIM A KISS AFTER HE JUST GAVE YOU A DAMN PENCIL LIKE WTF 

♡ after that, he decided to give up his current personality and pick up a new one 

♡ jk jk 

♡ but he had to binge a whole bunch of those youtube psychology videos that are like ‘psychological tricks to make people like you’ and ‘THESE 5 MIND TRICKS WILL MAKE YOU THE MOST POPULAR PERSON *EVER*’!!

♡ spoiler alert: he wasn’t the most popular person but perhaps that was bc he only went to the effort of using those tricks on you 

♡ god bless him; he tries hard, he really does. (not his best, just hard)

♡ but you don’t have to be extremely observant to realise that he’s began acting different around you and of course, it confused you seeing tsukishima being nice

♡ what irritated you was how dismissive he was being of your questions though, as he was clearly trying to lead you to believe that you were crazy and he’s just always been a nice guy 

♡ but as soon as he figures out that he angered you, he’ll instantly switch back to him normal self - draining his mind of the hours of phycology studying he did last night to just pretend like it never happened 

♡ and if he’s feeling flirty, he might be extra mean to you （￣︶￣）

♡ also he makes a mental note to never take yamaguchi’s romance advice ever again 🙄

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you sighed, removing your hand from your bag after desperately rummaging through it in search of a pencil once again - deja vu. once you accepted that a pencil wasn’t going to materialise out of thin air, you peered over your shoulder and tapped the corner of yamaguchi’s desk, who wore a suspicious grin which you decided against questioning. 

“yamaguchi, do you think i could borrow a pencil again? sorry, this is the last time, i swear. i’ll be sure to get some on my way home after school tod--” 

yamaguchi dropped the line him and tsukishima had rehearsed many times beforehand, while clutching his pencilcase dear to his chest, “woah, (y/n). you’re so irresponsible. sorry, i can’t lend one of my pristine pencils to someone who is too forgetful to remember to buy some; what if you forget to return it to me?” 

tsukishima cringed at how forced it sounded but he couldn’t help but admire yamaguchi's dedication to his role. this allowed tsukishima to swoop in, pencil in hand, “here.” that wasn’t in the script but he panicked! okay, now, eye contact. 

you just sat there and stared at both of them with the most dumbfounded look plastered on your face. what just happened?  why were they both acting like they were in drama class?  and why are they both so bad at acting? they’re both passing performing arts for fucks’ sake!

kentarō kyōtani 

♡ sorry but i firmly believe kyōtani is the sorta guy to be extra mean to ppl he fancies smh

♡ the rest of them just act (somewhat) like themselves around their crush but kyōtani is himself2 (himself^2)

♡ like one time yahaba found you trembling in your locker bc you had gotten mud on mad dog’s white shoes so he chased you through the hallways of the school, threatening to trek mud on your forehead 

♡ yahaba took it upon himself to investigate as to why kyōtani was so rude to you and he got his answer as soon as he mentioned your name to mad dog and the boy’s face immediately flushed red 

♡ so after practise, yahaba schools mad dog on how to get chicks (⌐■_■)

♡ in short, his advice was ‘good guys get laid’ and for kyōtani’s understanding, ‘good’ and ‘kind’ were interchangeable 

♡ mad dog wasn’t completely oblivious to how he treated you and he was aware that he was far from ‘kind’

♡ although he usually doesn’t listen to people in general, yahaba seemed to know what he was talking about so he figured there was no harm in trying to be nice 

♡ but ngl, he just spent the rest of the day wondering...what is kind?

♡ after a few messages back and forth with yahaba, he figured that the best place to start was by apologising for - y’know - chasing you around the whole school 

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

“oi!” kyōtani bellowed through hallway, paying no mind to the students that cast him dirty looks as his sights were locked on you. standing unsuspecting by your locker, stuffing your textbooks into your bag until you heard his deep voice echo through the hall, to which you visibly perked up and began frantically looking around.

he marched towards you, hands in pockets and when you noticed him out of the corner of your eye, you were more than ready to drop all your shit and bolt away. but he didn’t let you as before you were able to take off on your heels, he grabbed your shoulder and spun you around to face him - then he noticed your hands raised in defence by your face and your head hung low.

his heart sank and his grip on your shoulder immediately softened, “i’m not gonna punch you, idiot.” he spat, rolling his eyes and gritting his teeth, trying to appear angry in hopes you’d mistake his light blush for pure rage. 

“i just wanted to say that i felt bad for chasing you through the halls yesterday - you didn’t stand a chance so i guess it was a bit unfair.” he said, frowning as you replied with silence so the duty fell on him to fill it, “and i got the stain out, anyway so.” 

more silence. lovely.

suddenly, he puffed his cheeks out as his eyes snapped to meet yours and he roared, “ARE YOU GONNA FUCKING SAY SOMETHING OR ARE YOU TOO BRAINDE-”

“are you wearing eyeliner?” 

and that was the true story behind why you missed last period, because you and kyōtani had a 30 minute conversation about eyeliner and make-up, then he convinced you to skip the rest of class with him so he could buy you ramen as an apology gift.

so yeah, he figured that perhaps he should try being nice more often.

kiyoomi sakusa

♡ he didn’t need someone to tell him to be nicer, he’s just predisposed to attempt to show kindness to someone he is fond of

♡ in his mind, showing kindness, respect and stripping himself of all his personality = the only way to be desirable 

♡ (ofc this takes place before he meets atsumu tho lol)

♡ so it’s not the realisation that’s the problem for him, it’s the execution 

♡ like how is he supposed to be nice without either sounding creepy or condescending? 

♡ *cut to sakusa practising in the bathroom mirror* ‘your hand looks- no-’ he scoffs, flicking cold water onto his face, ‘your hair looks cool- pretty- nice?’

♡ *camera pans to sakusa laying in bed, staring intently at the ceiling while imagining vivid and scarily detailed scenarios about ways he could mess up while talking to you* 

♡ *camera zooms in on sakusa’s face as he manifests a nicer version of himself*

♡ he might - depending on how insecure he is - watch one of those psychology videos or read a wikihow for help

♡ but other than that, he independently tries to alter his personality in order to gain your favour bc..true love ?

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you smiled as a basketball rolled up to your feet during gym class, followed by the sound of someone approaching you and upon raising your gaze, your eyes met sakusa’s unmistakable black ones. his face hovered only a few inches away from yours due to the fact you had both reached down to pick up the ball at the same time.

he quickly pulled himself away, tucking the basketball under his elbow as he adjusted his mask so it properly covered his face to ensure that you didn’t see the light blush slowly spreading across his cheeks. he then proceeded to blurt out what he had been rehearsing for the past few nights, “oh, thank you, (y/n). your hair looks lovely today, by the way.”

you giggled, holding your hands firmly by your side to avoid fidgeting and making it obvious that his sudden comment flustered you, “thanks, sakusa. and, if we’re handing out compliments today, i didn’t know you were good at any sport other than volleyball but you’re doing surprisingly well at basketball.” you joked, your lips slowly curling into a cocky smirk, “though, i don’t think you’d stand a chance against my team.” 

god, you’re such a tease. you make it so hard for him to be nice to you. so, of course, your comment returned his ability to utter almost every sarcastic comment that comes to mind - screw being likeable. “you think so?” he quirked a brow, tossing the ball onto your lap then pacing backwards, “go on, then.”

rintarō suna

♡ it was probably those tips on social media that told him he has to be nicer 

♡ and plus he saw terushima get all the chicks and he was just sitting there like ‘where are my bitches at? 🥺’

♡ anyway, all the guys on social media that had girls lining up outside their door always had one thing in common: misogyny  obnoxious personalities !!

♡ and his whole personality was a sacrifice suna was willing and ready to make for just a crumb of cooch  🤲

♡ though you weren’t exactly his crush yet, suna thought you were the best person to carry out this experiment with bc he heard through the grapevine that you had a crush on him so perhaps this would make you happy

♡ he didn’t prepare much beforehand though which he immediately regretted as soon as he approached you bc admittedly, his game plan of ‘be self-assured but friendly’ was a bit vague 

♡ so he basically just had to bullshit through a whole, awkward conversation with you while wearing a forced ‘bold’ smirk which, in reality, looked as though he had just seen tiddies for the first time 

♡ hardly self-assured or friendly 

♡ also, the fact you thought he was playing a prank on you must’ve drastically altered the results of his experiment 

♡ at one point he says something extremely stupid you’d just quit playing along and just blurt out ‘wtf is wrong with you today’

♡ to which he’d be like ‘ahaha, nuthin much bbg, how bout you?’

♡ THE EXPERIEMNT ISN’T OVER UNTIL HE SAYS IT’S OVER OKAy?!

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you rubbed your temples in order to soothe the throbbing headache suna gave you simply by existing. like yes, you had a crush on him 10 minutes ago - but that was before he came up to you and started acting like terushima on dodgy medication. “oh and your skin is glowing bab--”

“jesus christ, rintarō, shut up!” you cried, gripping the edge of your skirt to prevent your self from delivering a swift punch right to his stupid face. he’s seriously gotten on all your nerves at this point; firstly, by spamming your phone in the middle of the night asking for homework answers (accompanied by cursed memes) as he actually managed to wake you up. secondly, by acting so oblivious to the fact you clearly had a crush on him and now, this!

heat rose to his cheeks in embarrassment as his creepy smile instantly fell right back into his resting bitch face, “this isn’t working, is it?” 

“what’s not working?”

suna scoffed, rolling his eyes - his façade having evidently disappeared. “this.” he sighed, looking around as if someone was going to save him before his eyes finally settled on you and he was reminded of what he wanted in the first place, his sparkle was rekindled for just a moment which caused him to blurt out, “just fuck me already, i’m not asking for much.”

[princesimp]

Yan!Helen Otis/Bloody Painter x Reader

I used a prompt by @bowtied-pasta for this one! It's my first writing piece in YEARS so I'm a little rusty, but I hope you guys enjoy! Any constructive criticism or comments are welcome!

Light yandere obsessive type, I wanted to give my boy Helen a little attention cause I think he's underrated and pretty swag so here ya go, if anyone wants this one to continue I might make a pt 2 ☺️

Prompt; You didn’t think leaving your window open would be a bad idea last night. The air was cool and the sounds of your neighborhood were familiar to you, so you knew you would be able to fall asleep. You didn’t think anyone would be in your room when you woke up, but the figure in the corner proved otherwise.

You stayed silent for a while. You knew you’d had a… ‘secret admirer’, let's say, for the past few months. They left a few notes, a gift or two, ordered you a damn doordash meal one time with a note saying to “look after your delicate health”, but for some reason you hadn’t expected them to be in your fucking room. You couldn’t make out their form; they had thick layers of clothing on, and the shadows warped around them to hide most of their face. Could that be a mask? Fuck if you were gonna keep looking to find out, you had a will to live. How could they even stand wearing so much anyways? It was cool at night, sure, but it was still summer, and a heat wave was still going through. You were surprised they weren’t passed on your floor.

You went over the options you had in your head. You didn’t know what the person in your room wanted; if they were angry and out for blood, if they were just a little too infatuated with you and just wanted to see you, if they just wanted a quick fuck, you knew nothing. You didn’t know how much stronger than you they were either, though you could take an educated guess as to how they’d square up against you based on the fact they were ballsy enough to be in your house.. You really didn’t wanna piss them off, they were obviously dangerous, or at least unhinged, but they were In. Your. God. Damn. Bedroom.

Rage was slowly bleeding into terror, now. There was a pocket knife on your dresser. You thought about grabbing it. That’d be a shitty fucking decision though, you had it for opening shit and to intimidate anyone from bothering you, that didn’t mean you knew how to wield a knife in a fight. Maybe you could pretend to fall back asleep and see if they left in the morning? You were shaking like a fucking leaf, they’d call your bluff. On the verge of tears, trembling like a leaf under the covers. They definitely knew you were up, and they knew you were scared, oh god what if that's what they wanted? That’s why they’re here, to scare you, so you wouldn't find help, and they were going to kill you, weren’t they, and, and-

Stop. Now isn’t the time to panic. You did your best to slow your breathing. To not whimper. Not sniffle. To not make a single noise. You heard shifting, and a light thump against your doorframe. A light huff followed soon after, but it didn't sound annoyed; Amused, maybe? No, that wasn't right either- you didn't dwell on it for too long. Their eyes pierced into your soul, you didn’t need to dwell on that to feel it clearly. This went on for a while; you almost work yourself into a panic, manage to calm yourself, they give a (maybe it’s relieved? No, that's not right either, it sounded too relaxed, too content-) huff, rinse repeat. You slowly felt your courage come back to you when you saw it was almost dawn. Your neighbor worked early, you could scream for help if something went wrong. Why haven’t they said anything? It felt like it'd been at least an hour now. You’d think an intruder that knew you were awake would say something, anything.

“Are you the one that’s been leaving me notes..?” you asked, barely above a whisper, bracing yourself and tensing up to prepare for a violent response that never came.

“I am.”

Their voice was a bit deep, a little raspy, and you almost didn’t know what you should’ve expected. They were quite straightforward. You turned your head to face them, waiting to see if they continued.

“And the gifts?”

“The small stuffed bear and the cloud necklace, yes.”

“And that doordash order?”

“You were so stressed that week. I felt you needed a little something nicer to eat.”

You sniffled a bit. They turned their face to you. You were able to get a good look at them now. They did, in fact, have a mask on, white with black eyes and a red smile painted on. They looked... Sophisticated. Terrifying, still, they were so calm and collected, like they'd done this hundreds of times before. Like this was routine.

He tilted his head. You were terrified. He wouldn’t fool himself into thinking he didn’t know why, but he could still hope to calm you down. “My name is Helen.”

It was a nice name. A name put you at ease. Someone planning something more dangerous wouldn’t give their name out like that, would they? “Please don't hurt me, Helen.”

“I won’t, If I’m given no reason to.” Reasonable. In your head, you correctly translated that to “Do as I ask and don't scream”. That will to live firmly intact, you slowly nodded and sat up, pulling the blankets up with you both for some sense of security and because you felt like you were freezing because of the anxiety and adrenaline running through you. “What do you want?”

He dropped a bag that was on his back that you hadn’t noticed in your panic before, before he started walking towards you. He was slow, like he was approaching a hurt animal, like he didn't want to scare you, like you were a delicate prize. You scooted all the way back, your back squishing your pillows against the headboard as you flattened yourself against it. He paused, until your expression softened a little, from exhaustion or from you calming down he wasn't sure, before he approached again, sitting on the edge of the bed near you.

“You’re so delicate. Beautiful. A lovely muse. I’d just like to observe you. Create beautiful art pieces in your image, maybe show you a few works I’ve completed. Make you the perfect subject, the perfect muse.” He reached out to run his fingers through your hair, not hesitating even as you flinched.

You were confused. That didn’t sound right, there had to be a sinister meaning behind those words, and yet he said them so innocently, so politely, sugar lacing his words, like all he truly wanted was an art subject. “Is.. is that all you want?”

“For now.” He huffed again (Admiration? Is that it?) before pulling his hand away, trailing his fingertips, gloved in black leather, across your jawline, gently tipping your head up. “I can be gentle, kind, even, with you. If you do not force my hand.” You couldn’t even attempt to force yourself to pull away from him. His presence and actions had become alluring; Terrifying still, yes, but you felt yourself entranced by his calmness and by how politely he spoke to you.

He suddenly stood, retrieving his bag and starting to leave quickly through the still open window. He paused for a moment, looking back at you.

“I truly don’t wish to hurt you, Y/N. Try your best to calm yourself.”

He ducked out the window, and in the three seconds it took for you to gather your wits about you and dash to the window to see where he went, he was out of view. You closed your window and sat down right there on the floor, going over what in the everloving fuck had just gone down in your head. Jesus, that… that was a fucking rollercoaster. You brought your hand up to your jaw, tracing where he’d traced, and sighed out a shaky breath. You got up and got back into your bed, attempting to sleep to try and collect yourself.

Fuck it. You’d call out of work for the day later and say you were sick or something.

[sunflowergirl522]

Love Story

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Xavier!Reader

Requested by anon: Romeo and Juliet but it's Peter Maximoff andthe reader who is Charles's daughter. Erik VS Charles to the max

I did change it up a bit because I’m a big believer in the true friendship between Charles and Erik. But it’s still a type of Romeo and Juliet story because Charles hates Peter. Sorry if it’s too different from what you were thinking of.

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 1847

Masterlist

The night was clear as the party celebrating a successful mission raged on. Peter stood talking to Scott and Ororo while you found Jean in the crowd, excited to be out of your room. Peter’s listening partly to whatever Scott’s saying while he takes a sip of his drink when he looks up and notices you for the first time. Your head is tossed back laughing at something Jean said, your cup raised up as if you were about to take a sip before the laughter started. 

 “Woah, who’s the beauty talking to Jean? She’s never been around before.” Peter hits Scott’s shoulder to make sure he gets his attention. Scott follows the direction of Peter’s attention before laughing at him.

“Calm down lover boy that’s the Professor's daughter there’s no chance in hell.” He takes another swig from his cup before continuing. “She stays in her room the majority of the time. Only really coming out when there’s a party or Jean and I invite her out, I think that's partially because of the professor though.”

“No chance in hell?” Scott scoffs at the fact that that seems to be the only thing Peter got out of his words.

“He does seem to hate you.” Ororo shrugs almost apologetically.

“Psht, no he doesn’t.”

“He thinks you’re annoying and a pain in the ass. Isn’t your dad his enemy anyway?”

“Hey, I’ll have you know my dad is also his best friend.”

“Yeah whatever, he’s not gonna let you anywhere near her.”

“Is that a challenge?” Peter wiggles his eyebrows and smirks at Scott before zipping off leaving his two friends to shake their heads at each other.

He waits until you stop at the drink table to get a refill before approaching you. “You know I never saw true beauty till this night.”

“Is that so?” You chuckle and glance up at him from under your eyelashes. “I’m Y/n.” You hold your hand out for him and he takes it reveling in the softness of your skin. “Nice to meet you Peter.”

“Ah so you’ve heard of me?” His smile is perhaps the cutest thing you’ve ever seen and you can’t help but smile back at him.

“Can’t say I have, you thought it pretty loudly though.” You tap your head to signify that you heard it from his head. He follows you from the drink table like a lost puppy as you walk over to a log in front of the fire that’s going. And as you sit there, the fire reflecting off of your face ass you sip from your cup, he fights the urge to kiss you. “Wow, your thoughts are so loud, I can’t imagine how loud you are normally!” You giggle and a blush takes over his face, he’ll have to learn how to quiet those down. “You know if you want to kiss me you could do it.” All of a sudden your tone gets slightly serious and you're so close that your noses are almost touching. Peter doesn’t know how you got that close without him realizing but he wasn’t complaining.

“Is that so?” You give out a small ‘yeah’ before you both lean in and connect your lips together. The sparks you feel from it are extraordinary and you smile at him as you pull apart. 

“You kiss by the book.” And with that you kiss the corner of his mouth and leave to find Jean once more.

After that night you can’t seem to get the silver haired speedster out of your head. You have Jean tell you all about him the next day when she comes to hang out with you. The thoughts of him are so loud that you can’t hide them like you normally do with your thoughts.

“Peter’s no good for you.” Your dad had said to you during a game of chess one day. Jean had told you how much Peter annoyed him but you didn’t think it was enough for him to forbid you from ever dating him. You had masked how upset you were with that very well and decided that your dad couldn’t decide that for you. 

Peter doesn’t see you around the days after the party and starts to get a little anxious that you won’t even remember him if the two of you were to meet again. So when he sees Scott looking alike he’s about to go out he stops in front of him asking where he’s going. Peter has to ask a few times before he gives in and tells Peter he’s going to the movies with you and Jean. 

“Please, you gotta let me come. There’s no point in saying no I’ll show up anyway.”

“Fine, her dads already forbid her from dating you anyway. I can’t wait to see this blow up in your face.” When Peter sees you and Jean leaning on the car waiting he nearly freezes in his tracks the fact that Scott would never let him forget about it being the only thing keeping him going. You’re just as beautiful as the last time he saw you, even more so in the sunlight. 

“Hi Peter!” You offer him a smile so big your eyes are forced to shut as the two approach you. It stuns him speechless and he all he can do is wave in response. 

When the four of you get into the movie theater you and Peter sit apart from Jean and Scott figuring they’d just make out the whole time. When the movie starts Peter yawns and stretches his arm behind your head and you chuckle out a ‘smooth move’ before resting your head on his shoulder and eating some popcorn. The two of you spend the movie joking around with and getting to know each other instead of actually paying attention to what’s happening on the screen. You’re not all that shocked to find out that Peters the boy of your dreams and Peters not at all shocked when he finds himself falling for you. 

“When should I expect you tomorrow?” The two of you stand in your room whispering to each other to make plans for the next day after enjoying your time together so much.

“I’d say expect me around nine.”

“It’ll feel like an eternity until then. Goodnight Peter, until tomorrow.” You both lean in to share a kiss before Peter dashes off, getting out of there before your dad shows up to say goodnight to you. The following days you and Peter would meet in secret in your room, in his room, in hidden areas around the school, and out with your friends. You make sure to guard your thoughts extra carefully around your father and Peter has just been avoiding him completely.

“What’s your issue with Peter?” You had asked your father during another game of chess out of the blue.

“Why do you ask?” His voice was filled with suspicion at the question.

“No reason really, Jean was just telling me about him the other day and he doesn’t seem like a bad guy.”

“He’s an arsehole who only cares about himself. If you were to get close to him I’m sure all he would do is hurt you Y/n.”

“But-”

“No buts, love. I’m finished talking about this.” You wanted to bring up how he trusted Peter enough to take care of the team on missions but decided it would be best if you let it go for now. So the two of you continued meeting in secret so he wouldn’t be any the wiser. That worked until the X-men were sent on another mission and Peter got injured. Jean had sent you a message warning you that he’d be coming back with a bullet wound and that you shouldn’t rush straight to the medbay to see him because it was likely that your dad would be there first. You didn’t care at that point though, who cared if your dad found out you just had to make sure Peter was okay.

“Peter!” You fly into the room surprising Hank and your dad who both look up at you with wide eyes.

“Y/n?” Peter’s just as shocked about seeing you while your dad was around, he’s not sure how to act until he sees that your eyes are welled up with tears. He ignores the pain in his shoulder and races to pull you into his arms. “It’s alright baby, I’m fine. The fucker just caught me off guard while I was helping Scott find his dropped glasses because he’s a dumbass.” He whispers words of reassurance to you while Hank and your dad share a look with each other.

“What is going on here?” Your dad's voice booms throughout the room and you and Peter jump apart, him flinching and grabbing onto his shoulder. And in that moment when your guard is down he can see into your mind, see all the love you hold for Peter and how worried you were for him. He can also see how worried Peter is that he’s going to lose you at this moment because of him forbidding the two of you from being together.

“Professor I can explain.” But Charles wasn’t gonna hear it.

“Hank get the bullet out of his shoulder.” Peter looks down at his feet as he makes his way back to sit in front of Hank. “How did this happen?” 

“I’m not sure dad, it just kinda did. We met and just clicked it was like love at first sight.”

“Is this why you’ve been so closed off to me lately?” Your dad stops in front of you and you just nod in response. He sighs at that and looks between the two of you. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Is that even a question dad? From the get go you were telling me how I wasn’t allowed to see him and how he wasn’t good for me.” You crouch down and rest your elbows on the armrest of his chair looking from Peter who was getting patched up to him.

“Oh my darling.” He reaches out to brush some hair out of your face. “You should have let me know how you felt. I never want to stand in the way of your happiness, even if he is the source of it.” 

“You mean it professor?” Peter’s next to you in a second after hearing him, excited to not have to keep you a secret anymore.

“If you so much as pull a hair out of her head, you’re out of here Maximoff.” At this he runs out his whooping distant as he runs around the school in excitement. You beam at your dad and kiss his head.

“Thanks dad, he means the world to me.”

“Still be careful around him alright?” You nod and Peter comes back in.

“C’mon let me take you on a real date now.” And with that he pulls you out of the room, neither one of you can wipe the smiles off your faces.

[oreosmama]

I just read the one with Dabi and Shigaraki getting seen by a villain and telling the reader to run and they get lost? Could I request that but with Bakugou, Shinsou and Todoroki? uwu thank you love your writing

He Tells You to Run During His Fight and You Get Lost (Yandere BNHA Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

Shigaraki and Dabi Version

A/N: Ajskdjd I don’t know if you actually sent this or if it just glitched but bro this request showed up in my inbox six times😂 I was just sitting there looking at it like wtffff. Anyways, I’m glad you liked the other one, and thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

Word count: 2197

Bakugou Katsuki: 

The entire street is blacked out. 

Of course, on the one night you actually are willing to go on a date with him, a villain attacks. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Bakugou hisses, letting his hand explode for the occasional light. 

A villain with electricity powers no less. With one flick of the guy’s hand, the whole street had turned to black, but not before he saw a nice fistful of explosion approach his face. 

Bakugou had told you to run before the fight, and now that the villain was gone, you were too.

“YN!” 

“YN COME BACK HERE!”

Yeah, sure, your relationship was a bit bumpy at first, especially considering the fact that he had taken you from your own home and forced you to live with him, but he firmly believed you two had worked out the kinks over the past two weeks. 

Evidently, that was false. 

“YN I SWEAR TO GOD!”

You left him. You really had. How dare you try to leave him. You truly were dumber than he thought, because he could find you in seconds. 

He wasn’t hurt that you had taken the opportunity to escape, but you would certainly feel his wrath once you were back where you belonged.

Rage swelled in his chest as he released another angered roar into the night. 

You, on the other hand, are terrified. Where the hell is Katsuki?

It was too dark for you to see anyone or anything. No cars were on the streets, no flashing signs. It was like you accidentally stepped into a ghost town. 

In the distance, you heard shouts and thunders. The villain? No, Katsuki could take him. 

Then you saw it. A large, towering figure that was charging for you at an alarming speed. Your blood ran cold at the sight of- Oh God, was that electricity?-- in his palm. 

It was too dark to tell, but you weren’t taking your chances. Cursing under your breath, you spun on your heels and ran. 

Meanwhile, Bakugou had finally found you. His palms fired up with light as he sprinted your way, barking a single “FUCK” when you began running. You really had tried to escape. That was not okay. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your eyes darted left and right, searching for an alleyway or anywhere else where you could hide and wait for the villain to pass. “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die.”

Finally, you found a familiar corner, one you and Bakugou had turned at only half an hour ago. You remember an alley being right after the first building. 

Following the path with burning legs, you took the sudden turn and dashed into the alley, crashing into the wall and slumping down behind the nearest dumpster. Oh God, oh God, oh God. 

You could hear the villain’s thunderous stomps, storming right towards your dead end before they passed it completely, allowing you to release a relieved sigh. It was only when the footsteps suddenly returned that you panicked, heart practically jumping out of your chest. 

“YN!” a familiar voice barked, rage so undisguised you almost choked on it. 

“Katsuki?!” You asked in surprise, supporting yourself against the brick wall as you rose with burning calves. His crimson gaze pierced right through you. “Katsuki,” you smiled, “you’re alive!” 

Bakugou sneered at that. Psh yeah, like that lame ass villain could kill him. But that wasn’t the problem. “You bitc-”

Whatever he was going to say, you cut it off with a suffocating grip around his midsection. “Oh, thank God you found me. I thought I was being chased by that guy!” 

Your hold is so tight he can’t breath, and it’s only when his lungs start to burn that he reluctantly taps out. “Okay, okay,” he pats your shoulder, “unclench, will ya?”

His anger from earlier has almost deflated completely; your touchy-feely-ness with him kind of had that effect. “Let’s just go home.” 

Part of him was still struggling to accept that you hadn’t tried to leave him, but it faded away when you gave him that blinding smile and adorable little nod. “You sure you don’t wanna finish that date?”

Oh God, how could he ever doubt your love when you asked him that?

Shinsou Hitoshi: 

Shinsou would be damned if he let you go.

You were the light of his life. The beam at the end of the tunnel. You were his perfect match. You couldn’t leave him.

He’d promised you that he would never use his quirk on you back when you first got together, but tonight he’s afraid he’ll have to break that promise. 

A villain attacked, one who had stayed mute for the first five minutes of the fight. Right in the beginning, Shinsou knew he couldn’t have you stick around. 

“Let me help!”

“No, YN! Just go! Run!” You watched him for a couple more seconds with wide eyes before nodding and booking it down the streets, never looking back. 

Maybe you had thought it would be the last time you would ever see him. Maybe you were thankful for that fact. 

Either way, you were sorely mistaken. 

The villain finally cracked when Shinsou trapped him in a headlock, squeezing and squeezing until the guy finally wheezed out a “please.”

Then the purple-haired hero told him to dive off the nearest bridge into the river below, and he listened dutifully. 

“YN?” Shinsou called out now, slowly making his way down the street. The more time passed, the more silence heard, the faster he upped his pace. 

The distance from you was almost painful. God, how he just wanted to feel you again. Hear you again. 

“YN, please come here!” Shinsou was jogging now, lavender eyes foraging every inch of the wide open street he was on. 

He was desperate now. Never had he felt so helpless and needy, but God how he needed you in his life. 

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he had a future to look forward to-- with you. He wasn’t going to let that slip out of his grasp, even if you didn’t feel the same. 

In time, and with enough coaching, you would be perfectly happy with him.

“YN, please tell me where you are!”

Blood rushing in his ears, he began to increase his speed to a sprint, head whipping back and forth across every alley and street until he caught a glimpse of- there!

“YN!” 

Your familiar head of hair perked up at the name and you rose from your hiding spot behind a trash can. Your eyes were glistening and red, veins popping out beside the irises. 

“Hitoshi!” you wailed, locking gazes with him and quickly closing the distance between the two of you. A sigh of relief fell from your lips as soon as your arms wound around his neck. 

“God, I’m so glad you’re okay,” you mumble against his neck. He could feel the wetness of your tears, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it. 

“Me too.” he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you just as tightly. He keeps his gaze locked on the wall behind your head while he contemplates his next move. “I thought you tried to-... I thought you were going to leave me for good.”

You snort bitterly into his neck. “Why would I ever leave you, Hitoshi? I love you.”

What if you were lying? What if you were lying to him right now? He could always ask…

But no, you said you loved him! And he promised you that he would never use his quirk on you. 

But surely it wouldn’t hurt to hear your honest answer, no?

“YN?”

“Yeah?” 

Your grip on him went slack as he felt your head drop completely against his shoulder. No doubt your eyes were glazed over right now, so beautifully vulnerable and yearning for his command. 

“Tell me the truth, darling. Were you trying to escape from me?”

“No, Hitoshi,” you mumble blankly into his skin. “I’ve fallen in love with you. I no longer feel the need to escape.” 

Breathless, Shinsou allows a grin to grow on his face as he dips his hand into your hair, petting it softly. “Good girl, YN. You’re so good to me now. So honest.”

You nod stiffly and Shinsou clicks his tongue. 

In an instant, your grip regains its previous gusto as you rub your cheek against his collarbone. “Can we go home now, ‘Toshi?”

Your mind was so trusting, so vulnerable, so pliable like puddy in Shinsou’s hands. Sure, he slipped up on his promise, but with your unconditional love, he was sure you would let it go in no time. 

“Of course, love.”

Todoroki Shouto: 

You were finally falling for him. Last night, like every night before, he laid a kiss on your lips as he returned home, only this time you responded. 

There was only one way to describe his feelings: he was addicted. To your love, to your touch, to you. 

It’d been so long since someone held him like you did, with that glimmer of adoration in your eyes. He had finally broken down your walls like you had done for him so long ago. 

He wanted to take you on a date tonight as a thank you. A gesture of gratefulness for reciprocating his love. 

But then that piece of shit attacked. 

Todoroki had no other option; he had to tell you to run. 

“YN please! Before he hurts you!” 

Fear was evident in your eyes, so getting you to flee was easy. 

And now that the villain was burned into oblivion, the hard part he dreaded had finally come: searching for you.

Within the ten-block radius he covered, you were nowhere to be found. Every divot, every ravine, every goddamn crack on the sidewalk, he searched for you. Hours passed, but he didn’t know how many. All he knew was that he couldn’t find you.

Of course, he should have expected this. 

You actually left him. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t see it coming. That kiss, no matter how much passion you had put into it, was obviously a lie. You were playing innocent, toying with his feelings just so you could really stick it to him in the end. 

He should’ve known. He knew, since he was a child, that he was an unloveable monster. He had been hanging onto you like his last thread of hope that he could be redeemed.

But now that you were gone, there was no way it wasn’t true. You didn’t deserve a freak like him, with a face not even a mother could love. 

Head hanging, Todoroki made his way home. His shoulders slouched forward as he dragged his feet along the sidewalk. Deep inside his chest, there was an ache. A longing for you, disguised as a physical pain. 

“Shouto.” 

The memory of your voice plagued his mind.

“Shouto!”

Growing louder and more insistent. No, of course he didn't want to forget you, but he had to.

“SHOUTO!” Tingles light up the flesh of where someone grabs his hand, and without hesitation, he spins and tackles them in a hug. 

“YN, please tell me this is real.”

Your cute little snort of disbelief makes his heart stutter. “Nah, this is all just a dream.”

“Don’t say that,” he grumbles into your neck. “You were gone for so long. I thought you left me.”

“‘Left you’? Seriously, Shouto? Is that why you were moping along when I finally found you?!”

“Yes. I thought you hated me for what I did to you, and escaped when the opportunity arose.” 

You tensed against him at his words. He hears you swallow. “I’m not gonna lie. The thought did cross my mind.” 

A nasty feeling crawls up his throat. “But then I realized I couldn’t.” 

“Really?” 

“Y-yes. Shouto… I realized I didn’t want to leave you. Because I-”

Here it was.

“-love you.” 

So it wasn’t a game after all. You weren’t pretending. That kiss had been real, you had meant it. A tear slipped down his cheek at the thought. He wasn’t a monster.

“I love you too, YN.” And you were never leaving the house after this. 

What a tease you were to toy with his feelings. Leave him for so long only to come back and drag him in again. For so long, you knew you felt this way, and only now, after he had searched for you for hours while you let him suffer those thoughts, you decided to confess your emotions. 

Todoroki’s love for you wasn’t a joke. And maybe, now that you seemed to understand you were his, he could finally teach you that lesson physically.

A matching mark of your own would do just the trick.

[echo-hiraeth]

31 + 34 with javi pls <3

Perfect - Javier Peña x F!Reader

You have no idea how much I like actually love requests though!! Sorry it took me so long <3

Prompts:

31: “You’re not going out dressed like that”

34: “You’re so perfect it hurts”

Masterlist

Your clammy hands were shaking as you checked yourself in the mirror yet again. You looked amazing, the short dress with cut-outs leaving little to the imagination. Today would be your first time on the frontline. The Rodriguez brothers were having themselves a little get together, the perfect way for you to infiltrate and get some intel. It wasn’t exactly your style, but you knew for a fact that the only women there were either the ones they scattered from brothels or the rich girlfriends and wives of other sicarios. And since you had no husband for the night, you had to opt for the classic prostitute, much to your own dismay. It wasn’t the first time you’d been used for your assets, the delicate touch and approach of a woman having been proved successful more than once. But to your personal relief, Chris and Daniel, two fellow agents working under Peña, would be right there alongside you.

The tacky red lipstick sat on the counter, practically laughing at you. You quickly put it on, sighing as you reached for the cheap perfume to go along with it. Your fellow agents had provided you with the little outfit, the platformed heels a practical joke more than anything. You’d get them back for this, sooner or later. Three honks outside your building let you know they were here. You scurried for your purse, making your way outside on the torturous shoes. Peña lifted his hand on the steering wheel, greeting you. You got in next to him, sliding into the passenger seat.

“Feistl and Ness not coming anymore?”, you asked, gesturing towards the empty backseat.

He turned his head towards you, sighing deeply. “Get back inside.”

“Mission’s off?”, you frowned, sounding more confused than ever.

He raked his eyes over your body, shaking his head in disapproval. “You’re not going out dressed like that.”

You scoffed at him, turning your body in his direction. “Excuse me? Your men picked this out for me. This is the dress code.”

“Right, you’re just asking for it dressed like that”, he groaned, averting his eyes.

“I’m just gonna pretend like you didn’t just say that”, you laughed, leaning your elbow against the window, “Just drive, yeah? I want to get this over with just as much as you do.”

He started the engine, giving you a quick glare. “Fine. But I’m sticking around. I’ll park a street or two away and need you back in an hour, if not I’ll come looking for you myself.”

“Whatever, just let me do my job. We could use some new leads, can’t let them get away much longer”, you reasoned.

“Leads mean nothing if you’re dead”, he replied coldly. “I-I just want- need you to be safe.”

You smiled a little to yourself, giving him a nod. “I try my best, boss.”

“Javi, call me Javi. We’re not at the office”, he insisted, tilting his head at you.

“Well Javi, looks like this is my stop”, you smiled, reaching for the door handle.

He grabbed a hold of you other wrist, making you whip your head around. “Please – whatever happens, don’t leave the party, don’t even leave the dancefloor. If at any point you feel unsafe or uneasy, come back, no one will hold it against you.”

“I promise you.. I’m okay. I’ve done it before, chat some, dance some, flirt a little bit, get them drunk enough… I’ll be fine.”

He was reluctant to let go of you, resisting the urge to just drive off with you. It was your job, you were trained to deal with these kinds of people. He was probably just overreacting, being overly protective over one of his agents. Except that he never felt this way with the guys. Surely he was seeing things, surely there wasn’t any depth to your kind words and special attentions. Surely you wouldn’t even consider him for a fuck, with the obvious age-gap and all. Not only that, he was well-aware of the way he was so out of shape, the start of a beer gut becoming more and more obvious. He wasn’t the womanizer he once was, but there was just something about you, some magical, gravitational pull that had him breathing heavy when you were close.

“Javi.. I need you to let go”, you repeated for the third time, finally pulling him from his thoughts.

Shit – that was embarrassing. He quickly pulled away, nodding at you. “Good luck.”

You left with another smile, waving to him as you rounded the corner. He let out a breath, softly banging his head against the car-seat headrest. His fingers strained against the cool leather of the steering wheel, teeth gnashing as he tried to keep himself from running after you. You were a big girl, he told himself over and over, you could handle yourself.

The partly was bustling with people, drinks and cocaine flowing freely. You headed for the bar, grabbing a shot of tequila as you scanned the dancefloor for any possible leads. Along the way you’d spotted Daniel, grinding with some girl. At least he was enjoying himself. Chris was off to the side, talking and laughing with some unfamiliar men. It was then you spotted one Gilberto’s wives. An unexpected turn of events to say the least. She caught your eye just as you were looking at her, and gave a saccharine smile, moving to walk over to you.

“Entonces, viniste solo, o..”, she asked, purring into your ear. (So did you come alone, or..)

“Sí, ¿estoy haciendo algo mal?”, you questioned, purposely raising the pitch in your voice to feign innocence. (Yes, did I do something wrong?)

She let out a soft laugh, placing a hand on your shoulder as she leaned in closer. “Me gustaría que conocieras a alguien.” (I’d like for you to meet someone.)

It’s not like you had much of a choice anyway, her tone and grip on your wrist saying as much. You smiled back at her, nodding your head. She lead you into the bar, taking you into one of the backrooms. In passing you’d spotted the Rodriguez brothers in a small room, talking about something you couldn’t quite understand. She gestured for you to stay there, in the middle of the hallway as she disappeared into the nearest room. The stench of sweat and sex hit you hard, making you shiver against the wall. A young girl stumbled out of the room, face stained with black streaks and the straps on her dress torn apart. You gulped a bit, this being much more intense than what you were used to. It was then the wife remerged, leading you into the room. You had to keep your mouth from falling open, David Rodriguez, the big boss’ son sitting there, half-naked, smirking up at you.

“Gracias mamá”, he cooed, pointing the other woman to the door.

He stood up, buckling his belt and zipping his slacks up before stalking over to you. He hummed lowly as his hand traced the cut-outs in your dress, leaning in to press his lips against your shoulder.

“Muy hermosa.. Dime dulzura, ¿te gusta bailar?”, he inquired, raking his fingers through your hair. (Very pretty.. Tell me sweetheart, do you like dancing?)

“En ocasiones”, you muttered, scanning the room for possible escape routes. (Sometimes.)

He stroked a thumb over your lips, grabbing a hold of your hand. “Vamos a bailar, entonces.” (Let’s go dancing then.)

Apparently both your partners had taken note of your absence, shooting you worried looks and glances as you returned to the actual party. You gave them both a subtle nod, assuring them you were okay and unharmed.

Back in the car Javier was a mess, having received a phone call from Chris, informing him you were taking into the building. He was about to go in himself when Chris called back, letting him know you’d come back, seemingly unscathed. It was what he said next that set Javier’s rage aflame, Rodriguez’ son was all over you. Feistl spared him no detail, describing how he had his hands all over you, mouth pressed to your neck occasionally.

“If anything so much as goes remotely wrong, if she looks scared, uncomfortable, whatever, you call me”, he growled into the phone. “And do not let her go into that building again.”

You felt disgusting, feeling the way his hands roamed over your body, squeezing at your breasts and bottom, not shy whatsoever. It was hard not to shove him off of you and beat his ass right then and there. You had to remind yourself it was for the greater good, trying to picture it was someone – anyone – else, to no avail. He swiftly spun you around, having you face him and he leaned in to press his wet mouth against yours. That was a bridge too far, even for you, and in a moment of pure disgust you shoved him off of you, slapping him right across the face. As soon as it happened you regretted it, clasping a hand over your own mouth, lifting it to mutter out a string of apologies.

“Puta”, he snarled, making all the heads around you turn in your direction.

You looked around you, trying to find someone, something to help you. He roughly tugged on the fabric of your dress, resulting in some of the cut-outs ripping even further. Luckily for you, you were in the middle of the crowd, meaning you wouldn’t get your brains blown out right then and there and as soon as David lifted his gaze to see all the partygoers stare at him, he let go of you. You seized the opportunity to disappear into the crowd, sprinting for the exit, with a heart thumping in your throat. Soon you heard the heavy thuds of someone else’s footsteps behind you, making you run even faster. Except that in these fucking heels, it was nearly impossible to make any decent distance whatsoever. One of them broke, sending you gliding over the asphalt, skin painfully dragging over the course ground. It was then you looked over your shoulder, expecting to get shot, only to be met with Javier’s brown eyes.

“Don’t say anything, just walk with me”, he instructed, helping you off the floor and wrapping an arm around you.

The adrenaline kept you on your feet, the pain not yet settled in. There was some blood running down your bare legs and forearms, a scared look etched on your face. He helped you into the car, taking off his jacket before putting it over your torso. When he was a good amount of blocks away he turned to look at you.

“I’m driving back to my place, can’t let them know where you live. We’ll take care of you there.”

He kept his eyes on the road, for fear that he might never look away again if he even so much glanced in your direction. He noticed your discomfort, the jackets strategically covering the new rips and tears in your skin tight dress. The urge to just pull over and hold you, comfort you, tell you – assure you that you’d be okay grew bigger by the second. And by the time he was parking the car, his hands were shaking, shaking with anxiety. You both hadn’t said a word and silences were uncharacteristic for you, hence the worry – or well, increase thereof.

The walk up to his apartment was painful, the adrenaline wearing off and the agony setting in. He noticed the way you pursed your lips with every step, carefully offering you his arm. You thanked him, holding onto his tan forearm. He managed a small smile, heartbeat skyrocketing as he noticed how gentle and warm your grip was.

As soon as you two were safely in the apartment with the door triple locked, he sat you down on the couch, disappearing into the bathroom to gather anything useful he could find. The bleeding had stopped by now, but it was a sight to behold. Your arms and legs were stained with blood and dirt, the cuts on your kneecaps stinging with the slightest movement.

He was tender and cautious, checking in if you so much as winced. The disinfectant stung like hell and had you biting the inside of your own cheek. You cursed the tears as they pricked in your eyes. You closed your eyes, flinching slightly when you felt a hand cupping your face.

“I’ll get you something to eat, to settle your stomach”, Javier whispered, slowly getting up.

You quickly grabbed a hold of the hand on your face, looking up at him with glossy eyes. “ P-please don’t leave.”

He felt his knees buckle the tiniest bit at that. You sounded so small, scared, insecure – so unlike yourself.

“I’m right here, you’re safe with me”, he ushered, taking both your hands in his as he knelt down once again. “Tell me what you need..”

“I-I want to get out of this dress, please”, you begged, tears threatening to spill from the corners of your eyes.

He gave half a smile, softly pressing his lips to your knuckles. “We can manage that, I can draw you a bath as well if you want.. I mean I assume you’d prefer to stay here tonight?”

You nodded slowly, sniffling a little as you went to stand. “Thank you Javi.”

After finally having convinced you that you could safely take a bath on your own and that he’d be waiting just outside in the kitchen you finally got undressed. You felt gross, borderline disgusting and wanted nothing more than to scrub the feelings of those hands off of your body. But no matter how many times you dragged the washcloth over your skin, the feeling seemed to linger and you felt the bile rising in your throat again. It had been too close of a call, you were lucky to even be alive tonight, sicarios usually not afraid to cause a scene.

Outside the door Javier was pacing, some frozen lasagne thrown in the oven. How could those two morons let you slip out of sight? Hadn’t he been clear in his instructions? Hadn’t he stressed how important it was for you to stay out in public? He’d have a go at them later, for now he just wanted to make sure you were okay. The muted sobs spilling from the bathroom didn’t help him either, wanting nothing more than to barge in to check up on you, but he was too afraid to overstep.

You eventually managed to muster up the courage, getting dressed in one of your boss’ shirts and a pair of his boxers, since they were the only thing he had that wouldn’t cover your knees, allowing the scrapes and cuts to air out. You’d have to see a doctor more than likely, the pain in your joints more present now that the initial shock was somewhat settled down. With gnashing teeth you walked out into the living room, Javier’s head immediately whipping around.

“I’ve got some food in the oven for later..”, he mumbled, gesturing towards the kitchen. “I made the bed as well, so you can just crash whenever you’d like.”

“Javi – thank you so much, I-I don’t know what I would’ve done without you there”, you managed to get out before your legs started shaking.

He immediately rushed over, scooping you up in his arms. “Let’s get you a seat, yeah?”

He softly sat you down on the couch, hissing as he accidentally grazed the angry red skin on your legs. “It’s okay – you didn’t hurt me”, you reassured him.

“I should’ve never let you go in there, it was a stupid fucking idea”, he chastised himself, rubbing the skin between his brows.

You sat up straight, putting a hesitant hand on his cheek. “Javier, you did what you thought was right. Everyone made it out and everyone’s safe, you called the right shots out there tonight.”

He looked into your eyes, sighing deeply, softly shaking his head. “Stop this.”

You gave a confused look, readjusting yourself, coming a bit closer in the process. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no. That’s just fucking it – you’re so perfect it hurts”, he murmured, briefly glancing down at your bottom lip.

That took you by surprise, making you chuckle a little. “What?”

“I don’t ever want to see you hurt like this again. I-I was so worried about you and fucking angry that I let you go in there all by yourself. It should’ve been me in there, or at least me by your side. I mean fuck – when I saw you stumbling out of there cariño – my heart nearly stopped”, he rambled once again taking a hold of your hands.

You were baffled at his words, confused at the sudden outing of care and worry. “Javi, I’m a DEA agent, this is what we’re here for.”

“Not to me”, he sighed, averting his eyes from your own. “You’re so special. So humble and kind- smart not to mention and… and so fucking gorgeous.”

It was practically impossible for your eyes to open even wider, the shock on your face more than obvious. “Javier, I-I don’t know what to say”, you admitted quietly.

He only now realised the impact of he what he’d been saying. Surely your boss coming onto you was the last thing you’d wanted, considering what you went through earlier on. “Fuck, shit – I didn’t mean to dump that on you, especially not like this I-“

“It’s okay”, you reassured him. “That lasagne should be done by now right?”

You knew fully well that the damn food was the last thing on your mind but you couldn’t help but overthink the entire situation. Surely your boss, one of the hottest men at the office, wouldn’t feel that way about you? Exactly, it had to have been the adrenaline of it all – or that bloody fucking dress. Whatever it was, you decided to repress that fluttery feeling in your gut and tried to remember what you were truly dealing with here: a boss looking out for his agents.

The rest of the night was spent in a comfortable silence. You decided to just go to bed already, your head spinning. What he’d told you wasn’t lost on you, in fact, it kept you up. You were laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling as you bit your lip. The range of emotions you were experiencing was overwhelming at it was hard to keep the waterworks contained at times.

Eventually, somewhere in the AM’s you managed to fall asleep. But even then you were plagued by your own mind. You felt those hands all over your body again and that slick, slobbery tongue on your neck. You punched him again, as you did before, but only now he pulled out a gun and shot you square in the chest. Clutching at that gushing wound, you sank to your knees, locking eyes with Javier. He rushed over holding you in his arms, shaking your lifeless form as your body went limp.

You sat upright immediately, arms flailing around you, knocking over the glass and clock that stood on the bedside table. The sounds of the shattering rung in your ears, pulling you back from your own head, making you aware of your surroundings. You were alive and more importantly you were safe. As the door swung open you let out a yelp, covering your face with your arms, still panting from your nightmare.

“Shit – are you okay?”, Javier asked, taking note of the broken glass next to the bed.

The familiar sound of his voice sent you over the edge and the tears that you’d been struggling to hold back all night finally got the upper hand over you. As you gasped for hair he quickly threw the nearest blanket atop the shards, deciding he’d deal with it later. He crawled into the bed and you practically threw yourself into his arms. He cradled you against his chest, closing his eyes as he felt you tremble all over.

“I’ve got you sweetheart, I’m right here”, he soothed you, intertwining the fingers on his free hand with your hair, slowly but surely grounding you.

There was something about the way his arms wrapped around you that made you feel safe. Something about the way your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck that made you feel like you were destined to end up here, in his bed, pressed up against him.

With tear-stained cheeks and glossy eyes you looked up at him, hands fisted in his threadbare t-shirt. “Did you mean it? What you said?”, you croaked out, voice pitchy with emotion.

“Every word”, he confirmed, softly swiping the tears away with his thumb.

You sat upright a bit more, leaning into him as did he until finally your lips bumped into one another’s. The both of you sighed, pulling away after only a few seconds, not looking for anything more in that moment.

“Please just hold me for tonight”, you whispered, resting your forehead against his.

He gently laid down, taking you with him. “I don’t think I’ll ever let go again.”

[justcourttee]

im not sure if youre taking asks but here goes: platonic jasonette, bc there isnt enough sibling jasonette in the world

We stan sibling Jasonette. It is literally my life as much as Daminette. Hope you like it! @sixtyeightdays

A Brother’s Love

If a year ago you had told Jason Todd that he would be smushed flat against the wall of a small coffee shop in Paris, France spying on his favorite designer’s first date, he would’ve laughed in your face. After all, nobody knew MDC’s secret identity and even if his jerk siblings found out, they wouldn't tell him anyway, just to torture him.

Yet somehow, he found himself in this exact situation, his anger rising with each passing minute that her date was late. He watched as Marinette picked up her phone for the hundredth time to check the time, check her messages, and sigh as she placed it face down once more, defeated. Part of him wanted to storm over to her table, scoop her up in the tightest hug and take her out for two scoops of ice cream from the best creamery in Paris.

But alas, if he even moved an inch, she would spot him and he’d never hear the end of him being an overprotective ass. The sound of her phone ringing caught his attention as he watched her fumble to try and answer.

“Hi! Yes, I’m at the coffee shop. - Have I been waiting long? No, no, not at all.”

Jason rolled his eyes. She was too kind for her own good. It was how she got into the Lila debacle. It was how she let her classmates walk all over her for too many years. It was why she was letting this Adrien kid treat her as a second rate now.

“The Louvre? I mean I guess I can close out here and meet you there.” There was a pause as her head dropped in disappointment.

Jason felt his blood boiling. Not only did this punk leave her waiting here for forty minutes without a signal message or call, but when he does decide to let her know he’s running late, he insists she comes to him? Jason didn’t care how well protected the model was, one way or another he deserved a black eye courtesy of Jason’s right fist.

He waited for Marinette to finish gathering her stuff. She laid a note onto the table, not bothering to ask for change, she never did, and exited the door, her face heavy. Laying a note of his own down, he raced after her, careful to keep a few hundred feet between them.

Jason felt as though he was beginning to break a sweat as he tried to keep up with her pace. As she turned down an alleyway, Jason broke into a sprint, trying not to lose her. As he turned the corner, a hand shot out toward his jacket, slamming him into the wall.

“I thought I told you my first date was off-limits.”

“Hi princess,” his voice was breathless as he tried to keep the pain from seeping in. “Just thought I’d stop in and say hi.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at him before letting go, allowing him to readjust his jacket.

“Besides, doesn’t seem like much of a date. I haven’t seen the punk once.”

Her eyes seemed to blaze as they cut into his. Jason raised his hands in defense, but he refused to apologize. They seemed to be locked into a staredown, both standing in the alley, arms crossed, neither budging in their positions.

“He’s not a punk Jason, he just was running late on his photoshoot. They just finished up at the Louvre which is where he invited me to. We’re gonna walk the museum and try to find Andrè’s ice cream afterward.”

Her tone was so matter-of-fact, so confident that he wanted to believe her, but her eyes were broken. They seemed so tired as if she almost expected to be stood up at this point.

“Mari, I’ve been here a year now. This is the twelfth first date you and Adrien have attempted. Every month he gets your hopes up and every month something always comes up last minute. How do you know he really is at the Louvre?”

Her arms dropped as her hands curled into fists. Jason knew he hit a sensitive topic, but he couldn’t watch her break her own heart. Not again.

“He’ll be there. Now leave Jason, this doesn’t concern you.”

She turned on her heel, exiting the alleyway without another word.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jason huffed as he landed on the nearest roof with a view to the courtyard. Following on foot grew too hard as Marinette constantly kept looking back, checking to see if he was still there. Besides, she said it didn’t concern Jason but she said nothing about Red Hood.

He tapped the side of his helmet, enhancing the zoom, silently thanking Barbara a million times over. The courtyard was empty besides Marinette and a blonde boy sitting on a bench, neither looking particularly happy.

“Don’t fail me now helmet.”

Jason hesitantly reached up to tap the newest installment Barbara had insisted on; audio enhancement.

“-it’s just ridiculous Adrien! You can’t sit under her thumb forever!”

The boy rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, trying to avoid direct eye contact with Marinette.

“Lila will turn my father on me Marinette, you have to understand. I really do like you and I would love to date you, but it’s a choice between you and freedom.”

For the third time that night, Jason felt his blood pressure rise from this punk kid. Before he realized what he was doing, the rush of air filled his ears as his grapple strained under the weight of him. His landing was rough as he tumbled less than ten feet from the bench, rolling to a stop right in front of the couple.

As he struggled to his feet, his eyes met Marinette’s. They were a mixture of anger and tears, fueling his rage.

“You.” His voice was menacing, all of his anger directed to the blonde sitting in front of him.

“Me?” Adrien seemed to shrink in on himself, his eyes widening as he took in the hero in front of him.

“You are a literal piece of scum. Do you understand what you’re losing here?”

“Hood, don’t-” Marinette tried to reach out, her voice begging, but he simply shrugged her off, grasping Adrien by the neck of his shirt.

“Marinette is an amazing girl. She’s absolutely brilliant, I mean have you seen her grades? They freaking fly off the charts. If you all had a GPA system, she would knock all of you out of the ballpark with no chance of recovery. Marinette is so talented. Her designs have so much potential to run an empire in the future. She already has multiple big-name clients and I know she’ll only expand from there.”

Adrien tried to object, but Jason didn’t give him the chance. His grip tightened as he lifted Adrien from the bench, his tiptoes barely scraping the courtyard stones.

“Marinette is daring, courageous, compassionate, and way too caring for her own good. None of you deserve her. Paris doesn’t deserve her.”

He felt two small hands wrap around his arm, attempting to pull him off of the boy but to no avail.

“Marinette do something! Tell your friend to stand down.”

Adrien struggled under the man’s grasp, his wild eyes begging the girl.

“You little punk, face me yourself. After tonight, you don’t have Marinette to hide behind anymore. If I even see you in a twenty-foot radius of her, you’re dead. Got it, kid?”

He dropped the blonde, watching as he stumbled backward before taking off into a sprint, never looking back.

Jason wanted to chase after him, finish teaching him a lesson, but the sound of soft sniffles from behind him required his immediate attention. His arms automatically pulled her into his chest, the sniffles muffled by his suit.

“Don’t worry Marinette, he’s never gonna hurt you again.”

She didn’t answer him as her sniffles slowly died out, her arms tightening around Jason’s waist.

“C’mon.” He slowly pulled back using his gloved hand to wipe a stray tear from her face. “Let’s go get some ice cream.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jason accepted his cone from André, attempting to hand the man a tip, but he simply blocked Jason, shaking his hand.

“Anything for Marinette. I could feel her broken heart before she even arrived. A girl like her doesn’t deserve to be so broken.”

Jason sighed in agreement as he returned to the bench she sat on, handing her one of the cones.

“Thanks, Jason. I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier, I just really wanted to believe that Adrien would come through. That our love could outweigh any obstacle this world throws at us.”

“Princess, did I ever tell you the reason I came to Paris in the first place?”

Marinette shook her head as she took a timid bite from her cone.

“My brother’s had a competition with each other to see who could discover the identity of my favorite designer, MDC. It took a couple months, but low and behold, August 16th comes around and my youngest brother handed me a wrapped folder that contained a plane ticket for Paris and your parent’s address. He said it was my birthday gift and it was scheduled to leave in the morning.”

“You came all the way to Paris, from Gotham City, to meet me?”

Jason nodded, taking a bite from his cone as well, throwing an arm over Marinette's shoulders.

“I was never expecting a small child of only seventeen years to be my all-time favorite person in the world. I mean your leather jackets can hold through a lot of trauma, trust me, Roy and I tried.”

Marinette giggled, her face slowly relaxing into one of peace.

“If Adrien can’t see how amazing you are, amazing enough for some guy to fly half-way across the world to meet you, then I’m sorry but I don’t think he really loves you.”

“Did you mean every word you said to Adrien?”

Jason looked over at the smaller girl, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Every last one.”

Marinette nodded, a small ‘cool’ barely audible escaping from her lips. They sat in silence for a few moments before Marinette spoke again.

“I’m over Adrien Agreste. For good this time.”

“Finally.” Jason pumped his fist in the air earning another giggle from her.

As they finished up their cones, Jason helped her to her feet, a sly smile crossing his face.

“You know, you graduate in a couple months. Maybe you can come back to Gotham with me, meet my other family. I’m sure they’ll love you as much as I do.”

“Maybe I can meet that little brother of yours. After all, anyone who can figure out my well-guarded secret sounds like a very intelligent person.”

Jason laughed, his mind tracing back to the image of Damian with a pot stuck on his head after pissing off Dick’s former teammate Raven.

“I don’t know about intelligence, but I would say he’s extremely devoted to the people he cares for.”

Marinette saw the wheels turning in Jason’s head as she tried to form a no before he could blurt out what she thought he was thinking.

“You two would be so great together! Oh God, I sound like circus boy. Anyways, it’s settled. As your honorary brother and full-time wingman, I am setting you up with Damian Wayne.”

Jason dipped down, snatched her phone off the bench, and took off in a sprint.

“Jason! JasoN I DON’T HAVE INTERNATIONAL DATA!”

The streets filled with the sounds of their laughter as both took off into the night, a bright future lying ahead, neither looking back on the events of the night.

After all, ice cream mends most broken hearts, but nothing fixes you quite like a brother’s love.

Permanent Tag List:

@damianette-is-life @ash-amg @rebecarojas07

[alienheartattack]

Sweet Revenge (Inexorable AU)

Word Count: 2260 words

Rating: E. They fuck. It’s dope. Don’t read if you’re underage or have objections to explicit adult content.

Summary: Levi and Mikasa have a feud at the school bake sale and decide to get revenge on their PTA nemesis.

Notes: For non-US readers, PTA stands for parent-teacher association, where parents volunteer at their children’s schools to get involved in the school’s activities and influence the quality of their child’s education, usually through fundraisers and other events.

This story takes place 8-9 years after the events of Inexorable and about 2 years after the events of the other Inexorable AU fics, A Scream in the Night and A Minor Dispute About Rain. The only thing you really need to know if you haven’t read those is that Levi and Mikasa have a daughter named Anya, who is basically a grumpy mini Levi, in addition to Hana.

The only thing keeping Levi from running after the PTA president and giving her a hefty piece of his mind is Mikasa’s grip, firm and insistent, on the hem of his sweater.

“You’re going to stretch it out,” Levi snaps at his wife, redirecting his ire at the closest target. Mikasa idly caresses the swell of her belly with one hand and looks at him with one eyebrow raised, silently asking if he wants to argue with his pregnant wife in public.

“I’ll let you go when I’m confident you’re not going to track Joanne down and scream in her face,” she says calmly. “As much as I’d like to see that.”

“She fucking begged us to help out at this bake sale and now she’s just gonna call our lemon bars basic?! We’re not goddamn pastry chefs!”

“Levi, listen to yourself. You sound legitimately insane.”

He sighs, letting his shoulders drop as the tension and rage starts to leave his body. Mikasa releases his sweater and he collapses into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. She joins him, gingerly lowering herself onto the uncomfortable metal folding chair provided by the school.

“I hate this so much. I hate Joanne, I hate being on the PTA, and I absolutely fucking hate bake sales,” he huffs.

"Well, we’re stuck here for the evening. I don’t want to be here either but I’m trying to make the most of it. Mikasa picks up a lemon bar and takes a huge bite. "Besides, fuck Joanne. These are good.”

Levi motions for Mikasa to give him a bite. “Fuck Joanne,” he agrees through a mouthful of pastry and curd.

Thankfully business picks up after that, and Levi and Mikasa spend the next half hour handing out lemon bars to parents and kids, ignoring Joanne hovering around them and observing their dealings with a disdainful eye. When the rush clears, she slowly approaches their table, pretending to be browsing. They both clock her gaze drifting over their mostly empty dish of lemon bars and the small twitch at the corner of her mouth that telegraphs her dissatisfaction with the Ackermans’ success. Triumphant, they share a brief glance, another silent Fuck Joanne.

To their dismay, she approaches Mikasa, staring at her oversized t-shirt dress. “Bun in the oven,” Joanne reads, her cold eyes sweeping over the looped script printed across Mikasa’s abdomen, decorated with a drawing of a smiling roll baking away. “Oh, you’re pregnant, sweetie! Congratulations!” There’s sweetness in her voice, but it’s tinged with venom. Mikasa knows it all too well.

“Thanks,” she mutters, bracing herself for the backhanded part of Joanne’s compliment.

“I thought you’d just let yourself go, but it’s a blessing instead! What a relief!” She laughs uproariously at her own joke. Levi jams his hands into the pockets of his jeans, balling them into tight fists so Joanne can’t see how enraged he is. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

Mikasa does not answer, instead focusing her energy on keeping a straight face while she contemplates murder. Levi can sense her tensing up, her shoulders stiffening, fury radiating from her body in waves.

“It’s a boy,” he cuts in curtly. “We’ve already got our two girls.”

“Your oldest isn’t—” Joanne’s voice drops to a near-whisper— “yours, though, is she?”

Levi narrows his eyes, no longer interested in hiding his annoyance. “She’s mine. I’ve helped raise her since she was a baby.”

“Oh, how sweet. What a modern family,” she gushes, cooing with an edge of condescension in her voice. “Well, congratulations.” She then turns and walks off, conveniently waving to someone across the room.

“Are you okay?” Levi asks Mikasa in a low voice once Joanne is out of earshot. Mikasa stares after her, eyes black with rage, her breath hissing through clenched teeth. She doesn’t need to say anything; he already knows the answer is no.

He places a reassuring hand on the back of her neck, massaging her nape the way she does to him when he’s stressed and ranting. “Tell you what, I’ll go out to the car and grab something sharp, we slice Joanne’s Achilles tendons and then get the hell out of here.”

“What? No!” She looks over at him, her expression disgusted and exasperated. “You have to stop watching gore movies with Hana. She’s barely ten.”

“She loves them! We were watching some zombie bullshit the other day and that little monster laughed while watching a guy get his guts ripped out and eaten. I’m pretty sure she���s gonna grow up to be a serial killer.”

Mikasa rolls her eyes. “Well, if she is, she gets it from Eren’s side of the family.” Even though he’s still angry on his wife’s behalf, Levi can’t help but chuckle at that.

“Fucking Joanne,” he grumbles. “If zombies ate her guts they’d spit them back out. Her kid’s an asshole, too.” Mikasa is well aware of that fact: Joanne’s son tried bullying Anya at the beginning of the school year, calling her a midget and pulling her hair until she had enough and whacked him in the face with her math textbook. That was Levi and Mikasa’s first run-in with Joanne before they joined the PTA, and things have only gone downhill since.

A few more kids approach the table, hesitant due to Levi’s scowl; Mikasa shutters her anger behind a calm facade and handles the sales, though she doesn’t say much.

When the latest wave of customers leaves, she turns to her husband. “I think I have an idea to make both of us feel better.”

A look of skepticism crosses his face. “Really? I was kinda hoping for that severed Achilles tendon.”

Mikasa facepalms; she’s had years to grow accustomed to her husband’s awkwardness and his awful jokes, but sometimes he still manages to surprise her. Ironically it only makes her love him more, this odd, cranky man who might literally kill for her.

“Joanne parked next to us, right?” she asks.

“Yeah, remember? I said her car looks like the physical embodiment of vaginal dryness and you laughed so hard you peed a little.”

“You really didn’t have to mention that last part.”

“I dunno, it gives the story flavor. Pee flavor.”

“Look, I have an idea. Get someone to take the rest of the lemon bars, then meet me in the parking lot. If anyone asks, I’m not feeling well and you need to take me home.”

Levi sighs. “What are you planning?”

Mikasa leans in close to him, her lips millimeters from his ear. “Meet me outside and you’ll see,” she purrs.

Five minutes later he bursts through the metal doors at the back of the school to see her sitting on the hood of Joanne’s car, an aggressively beige sedan.

“Come here,” she beckons him. He approaches her and, when he is within reach, she grabs his shirt and pulls him to her. Their lips collide awkwardly before settling into the familiar rhythm of their kissing, slow and deep.

After a few moments, he pulls away. “What is going on here?”

“Revenge,” she says. “I want you to fuck me on the hood of Joanne’s car.”

He ponders the suggestion for a moment, then smiles — and then a giggle escapes his mouth, a sound somewhere between bewilderment and glee, then another, then another.

“Aw, come on, don’t laugh. I thought it’d be fun.” She frowns, embarrassment heating and coloring her cheeks.

“No, no,” he says once he’s able to control his laughter. “I fucking love it.” He kisses her fiercely, growling deep in his throat. “I fucking love you.” Mikasa smiles, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. There’s some maneuvering involved in getting her underwear off, her round belly making the whole process somewhat unwieldy; Levi stuffs them in his pocket then gets down on the concrete, kneeling before her.

“Are you serious?” she squeals, trying to look at him over the curve of her stomach.

“If anyone asks, tell them you went into labor and I’m checking how far along you are.” With a low laugh he gets to work, nuzzling her pussy before licking a firm stroke along her seam. Mikasa bites her lip and lets out a shaky anticipatory breath in the brief moment before Levi lavishes attention on her clit, massaging it with his lips and tongue. She gasps when he pulls away from her a few minutes later, halfway to orgasm and disappointed not to get there.

“We need to be fast,” he says in lieu of an apology, undoing his pants and pulling out his half-hard cock, pumping it a few times in his fist. “I’ll finish you off at home.”

“You’d better,” she replies, a playful threat.

Levi settles himself between her legs then enters her with no warning or fanfare save the soft moan they both make, a low noise of contentment, of wholeness. They have always been a fearsome team, first as colleagues, then lovers, now spouses and parents, and their lovemaking is no different, each of them able to discern angles and positions from sighs, from grunts, from the furrow of a brow or the touch of a hand. Tonight Mikasa slides her hands down Levi’s back, skating over the soft brushed cashmere of his sweater, telling him that she wants him to be gentle with her — for now, anyway. Joanne’s comment must have stung, he thinks, and he resolves to show her exactly how beautiful he thinks she is, pregnant or not. There’s a certain earthy, ephemeral beauty in her pregnant body, something attractive and incredibly arousing about the thought of her creating and building life even as she sits next to him selling lemon bars at a school bake sale. He loves the way her hard edges have softened, the pleasing new fullness in her cheeks, the luminous glow that seems to emanate from within her.

(He has learned since her last pregnancy not to mention that he also loves the growing size of her breasts, and in return Mikasa only rebukes him for staring when he’s open-mouthed and practically drooling.)

Mikasa’s eyes flutter closed as Levi rocks against her, a gentle motion that makes the car bounce in time with his thrusts. A bubble of laughter escapes her lips.

“What’s that for?” he asks with a smile, then kisses her before she can answer.

“I love you so much,” she says against his mouth. “And fuck Joanne.”

Levi stops moving; Mikasa cocks her head, silently asking him what’s wrong. “Don’t say that bitch’s name when I’m inside you.”

“Look, do you want to revenge-fuck me or not?” She isn’t sure if that’s a word, but during sex, when they’re heated and frantic for each other, even Levi’s crude come-ons sound like poetry, so maybe this will work.

It does. “You want me to revenge-fuck you?” he growls, slapping his hips against hers with a rough thrust. She whimpers at the impact, a wave of pleasure rippling through her body.

“Yeah,” she pants. “Show me how angry you are.”

He makes a low hum of approval; though he’s become more proficient at sweet talk and romance in the years he’s been with Mikasa, he tends to favor sex as intense as his personality, grasping hands and heavy eye contact. Mikasa has never seemed to mind though sometimes, like tonight, she needs him to make love to her first.

Levi fucks her hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the cool night, her cunt making obscene liquid noises around his cock. Even through the delicious haze of their passion they’re listening out for footsteps, for cars, for the creak of doors opening.

“We should finish soon,” Mikasa pants.

“I’m close.” He slows his pace, grinding against her, sinking into her as deep as he can go, before pulling back and scything into her slick heat again and again, harder and harder, muttering curses and endearments and wordless sounds of effort and desire.

And then he thrusts into Mikasa so roughly that her ass hits the hood of Joanne’s car hard, triggering the car alarm, horn blaring and lights flashing.

“Shit!” Levi yelps, startled by the sudden noise. He jumps back from her, stuffing his stiff, aching cock back in his pants and undoing the fly with adrenaline-shaky fingers.

“We gotta go!” She hops down from the car, landing unsteadily on her feet, pulling her dress down over her nudity. “Do you have the keys?” She scrambles over to their car, pulling at the handle of the locked passenger door. “Come on!”

Levi reaches in his pocket for the key fob, mashing the buttons so the doors unlock and the ignition turns on. Mikasa clambers into the car as fast as she can, slamming the door behind her, and Levi follows soon after. Through the windshield she can see someone coming to locate the source of the commotion and chants, “Drive! Drive!” at Levi while he clicks his seatbelt into place.

“Seatbelt!” he barks at her and she complies, fear and arousal and adrenaline making her feel jittery and giggly and wonderfully alive. Levi remains stoic, but there’s a devilish glee playing at the corners of his lips: he’s enjoying himself just as much as she is. He backs their car out of the parking spot with the precision of a stunt driver and peels off, speeding off into the night seconds before Joanne comes outside to investigate the shrieking car alarm and the strange ass-shaped dent on her hood.

[bunny-hoodlum]

Asynchronous With You: Chapter 2

ship: naruhina

rating: teen (maybe mature later)

tags:  Modern Day AU, Foster Siblings, Family, Angst, Unrequited Love, Poor Communication

summary: An awkward journey full of self-denial and missed moments between two foster siblings. Perhaps their love will find the right timing someday.

When Naruto and his playdate make it back to his place, there are no shoes in the genkan. He's got the apartment to himself just as promised.

He's starting to get nervous when he takes off his shoes and she bounds across the corridor, heading towards the living room.

A brow perks up as he follows after her and she's sitting prettily on the sofa, with her hand on the remote.

He walks up behind her and perches his elbows beside her head as she finds the program she was looking for.

One of those intense dramas with controlling parents and an abusive ex-boyfriend. Naruto dropped his head with a sigh. This is not what he thought was going to happen.

At the sound of her patting the spot beside her, he reluctantly agrees and plops down with his arms crossed and his spine limp. Already bored.

"I'm obsessed with these, so you're going to have to bear with it," she said almost seductively, like a Mistress withholding his reward after a bout of slow torture.

Suddenly the front door goes ker-chunk. A shock runs up his back and his arms tense around his middle. Head turned towards the entryway, he stares in disbelief as Hinata pads across the corridor. She nearly enters. The kitchen is behind them after all. But she freezes as his panicked expression and ducks down around the corner.

Naruto raises up, saying "I'm gonna take a piss."

"If you're escaping, I'm leaving."

"I'll be back, for real. I'll watch your show with you. But I really gotta leak," He hurried off and sharply rounded the right corner. He grabbed Hinata by her shoulders and hurried her down the corridor, hiding her behind his larger frame. They made it back to her room where he closed the door behind them. And then he looked up at Hinata's winded expression. "Thought you'd be at Cram."

"I,I was about to make us dinner," her voice shook breathlessly. His eyes dropped down to the grocery bags in both her hands. He could make out an extensive category of cup ramen brands and flavors through the semi-transparent plastic. The shape of the other bag was tented, a case of eggs weighing it down. "I didn't think you'd be happy with curry udon."

"I wasn't," He crossed her room, closing the space between them and he took the bag of ramen of from her. He eyed the goodies inside. Some favorites, some unknowns. Triple X Crawfish flavor? Carbonara? Squid Ink? He was already beginning to forget both his guest and his libido in favor the buffet right before him.

"I thought we could try them together." She bit her lip. Her with her hand free, she began to finger and twist the hem of her skirt. An action that was perilously similar to the vision he had when he imagined her in her panties.

The cloth-wringing was a subtle shift from her finger-poking days, but it was a tell nonetheless.

It must've put her off to find out there was a stranger home, even if he was the one that brought her in. She's still not very good around new people, and he thinks perhaps that pretty girls intimidate her too, (with special exceptions held out for Ino and Sakura). He literally just brought the enemy into her territory.

What to do, what to do?

Did it seem like he had a choice anymore? No way he could still get lucky with Hinata home.

Naruto grimaced as he did the only thing he could do. "Well, she said if I don't watch her show with her, she'll leave."

Hinata's shoulders visibly relaxed. They exchanged lopsided smiles as they hovered in the silence.

Taste-testing cup ramen with his foster sister. His mouth stretched wider at the notion, contentment and gratitude deepening a little further in his heart.

When was the last time they hung out together, anyways?

They passed the time talking like they used to do, only pausing when a rather violent ker-chunk rattled down the corridor.

Naruto grimaced as that girl's dual nature became more apparent to him. Kind of like someone he used to have a crush on.

Naruto stood up and reached his hand out to Hinata, grinning widely, teeth gleaming. "I think you might've saved me this time, Hinata."

____________________________

As they sampled and slurped each new flavor over dinner, sharing bites and commenting at which ones they liked best, Naruto remembered the one thing that's been weighing in the back of his mind. He remembered, because he was having fun, and there might come a day when he can't have fun with her like this.

"Where're you going for high school?" he asked.

Hinata slurped up the two noodles hanging daintily from her chopsticks before she put the cup down, her expression thoughtful. "Kurenai-san can't afford to give me the same education that she gave Neji, so my options are limited."

"What? That's not fair."

Hinata replied with a shrug and a smile. "It's not really fair on her, either. She just happened to be our next-door neighbor when it happened. She didn't have to take us in. And if she never knew us and what we were going through, she never would have. You could say we were lucky and she was unlucky--"

"If she really felt that way, then you wouldn't still be here and Neji wouldn't have seen graduation. The way you're thinking of it is completely wrong."

"Did you wish I hadn't come home?"

Naruto pulled back. "Huh?"

"Spending time with her may have been boring, but you were looking forward to something else. You can have the things you want when you don't have to share."

How did the conversation devolve like this? Where was all of this coming from?

"Hinata... Wherever you go, I'm going to go with you," As he said that, her head perked up, her wet eyes took him all in. "I think so, anyway. Everyone's staying here, so, I think I'd miss them a whole lot. I mean, making new friends is great and all, but I got a good thing going here. What about you?"

A chill inhabited her features, like she had just locked herself away in order to face him.

"I don't know."

"Aren't you in two clubs now that you're not deputy class rep anymore? What was it, bug-catching and dog grooming?"

Two interests that couldn't be more unrelated if it weren't for the fact that it was Hinata who was interested. She had that motherly nature about her. She loved to take care of things. Just like she chose to do now for him.

Hinata nodded lamely.

He slouched in chair, one arm draped over the back as he sighed in resignation. He wanted to hear words from her, but it didn't seem like that was going to happen. He glanced in her direction and his dismay edged further into disappointment.

She kind of looked like Neji right now. Like back when him and Neji were bitter and small. Hinata looked like a blizzard raging inside a snow globe.

He has to stick close to her, make sure she's alright at all times. But right now, he was failing. Right now, he couldn't see what was attacking her.

AN: Oof, short-ass chapter. 1200 words. 😅 Felt like a good jumping off point though, I think it'd be good if the next chapter were from Hinata's perspective. I think I'll definitely combine this chapter and the first one into a single chapter for AO3 and FFN when this is all done.

btw I hate doing summaries. I always feel like I'll end up writing something completely different, rendering it all lies. Lies, I say! 😲

[phantaloon-books]

Alright I got a couple comments asking for a continuation so here's part 2 of neil finding out the feds were onto smth when they recommended witness protection program

part 1

(Also thank you so much, I genuinely didn't expect such a good reception, everything I write is purely self indulgent)

Andrew is gonna fucking lose it. It's been over three weeks and not a single word from Neil fucking Josten. He's never hated him more, and this time he means it when he says hate. Actually he's not sure he hates himself or Neil more, but he feels hatred and rage and that's what matters. But of course the rabbit just left. Once a rabbit, always a rabbit.

He wanted so desperately to believe that, that Neil chose to run, that he chose to leave him them and keep running because that's what he knows best. Even if believing Neil chose to leave hurts him more than he'll ever admit, it's the best thing to believe. It's best to believe that Neil left than to believe something happened. It's best to believe Neil grew tired and bored of him them than to listen to the worry and dread Andrew's been feeling for months. It's best to believe Neil didn't want him than to let himself think of worst case scenarios.

But he can't make himself think that Neil left willingly and because he wanted to (and not it's not because he wants to believe that Neil wouldn't leave him). Neil would never run without his things, not without his stupid binder and money and contacts, not without clothes or any resources. If he ran away he would do it properly. He wouldn't leave with running clothes and his stupid flip phone. And most importantly Andrew knows that Neil has been restless lately. He's seen the way Neil checks every corner or every place, observes the people, looks for threats. He'd left those habits behind, so something has to have happened. Neil didn't just leave him.

The best thing is the other foxes aren't convinced Neil would run either. He had no one to run from, and he had a family now. And even if he was feeling overwhelmed or anxious, he would have come back. He wouldn't have taken three weeks. So they know, they know, Neil didn't leave because he wanted or needed to. And they're all anxious as hell about that bc if he didn't leave where is he?

They narrow it down eventually, and conclude that he got in a fight and is dead in a ditch somewhere, he had an accident in a coma in a hospital somewhere, he somehow got lost and/or lost his memory, someone killed him accidentally or not and his body is buried somewhere far away, or he's been taken. And Andrew cannot take the stress that he doesn't know where the fuck Neil is any longer.

He almost killed Kevin and several federal agents when Neil went missing for a few hours. This time, he hasn't tried to kill anyone yet but that hasn't stopped him from tearing every dorm apart and the stadium and the police station and the hospital and getting in fights with the FBI. He's desperate enough that he called Browning, hell, he's desperate enough that he contacted the Moriyamas, which wasn't a pleasant experience, but Ichirou had promised Neil protection and this definitely called for mafia intervention. So far neither the FBI or the Moriyamas had helped - yes they had, they informed him regularly that they were looking for Neil, but they had nothing, no clues no trails, and Andrew couldn't believe their incompetence, like for fucks sake the Moriyamas were yakuza, they ought to know what could have happened to one of their most valuable assets. And anyway if he ran, and wasn't taken, they for sure would be behind him, looking to kill him of course, but they still couldn't find him.

Andrew hasn't tried to kill anyone yet but he will soon if he doesn't find Neil, and he's sure he will start with himself. He can't remember the last time he slept or ate well, or went to exy practice, but he doesn't care. He can't care until he knows something. The lack of knowledge is driving him crazy. At this point knowing that Neil is dead and has been rotting in the countryside of Poland would be better than not knowing anything.

He hates this so much. He hates Neil for disappearing. He hates whoever went and got him. He hates the Moriyamas for not being able to find him and not keeping him safe in the first place. He hates himself for becoming so attached. He should have known better. He knew better. He knew it was a bad idea to feel all the things he feels for Neil, especially because it's Neil, the unpredictable rabbit. But he fell for the fake hope that they would make it, that he wouldn't be hurt again, that Neil would stay. He knew letting someone in again could kill him. He knows that if they don't find him, it will. He can't keep going like this. He was stupid enough to feel hopeful, but he won't be able to live once the hope dies.

He's laying in Neil's bed. He knows it's pathetic, but frankly he doesn't care. Everyday is worse than the last one. He's slipping and when he falls it's game over, he's going to make sure of that. If Neil genuinely cared, he'd be pissed at Andrew for even thinking about this. No he'd be upset, but not pissed, about the fact that he's considering taking his life over this. But he opened the door to feelings, and he won't be able to cope with them and he won't be able to close that door again. He's giving up.

Faint buzzing interrumps his thoughts. Someone's calling him. He couldn't stomach the runaway song that matched with Neil's but he couldn't stomach changing it either, so he leaves in on vibrate now. He looks at his screen. It's an unknown number. Most likely the FBI or the Moriyamas or a random police station ready to take him out of his misery and just tell him they found Neil's body. The code says it's from Minnesota. He considers not answering, but he might as well get over it.

He flips the phone open, "I only care about this if you are from the FBI or the literal mafia, so if you aren't from either, feel free to hang up." The other line stays silent for a few seconds, but when he looks at his phone, it's still going. The person didn't hang up. He doesn't have the patience for this. "I'm just gonna hang up then-"

"Andrew, wait." It's barely a hesitant whisper. The voice is absolutely shattered, rough and hoarse and very painful-sounding. There's wheezing too and labored breaths. But god. No matter how wrecked he sounds, he'd recognize that voice anywhere. In half a second he's up and falling from the bed in his haste, alert at last. He can't believe it. He wants to but he doesn't want to believe the call is real.

"Neil? Neil is that you?" He hates how vulnerable he sounds, but the thought dies quickly. There's no way, no way this is real. A sob breaks through the line, and oh it sounds so full of pain and fear.

"Andrew, I-I need you to stay safe. I don't know if they're coming for you, for the foxes. I need you to find a place where you're safe. Call Browning or Ich- the little Lord and make sure they can protect you guys for a while."

Okay that's definitely Neil even if he didn't answer the question. And Andrew's heart is going a thousand miles an hour, he doesn't feel his body anymore.

"Neil where are you? I'm coming to get you, I'll call Browning but where are you?"

"'Drew," another sob, and this one manages to break Andrew's walls more than than the whispered 'Drew', "promise me you'll stay safe, don't come looking for me, you can't take them down, please don't come looking for me."

The exhaustion and terror in his voice doesn't sit well with Andrew. The Neil he knows is not this. "For fucks sake Neil just tell me where in Minnesota you are, I'm coming to get you."

"No- no you're not, I'm not calling you because I want you to come. I just need you to promise you'll be safe."

"Neil who took you? Where are you? I can send the FBI or the japanese shits over, I swear to god I can send them to come get you if you just tell me where you are and who took you. I'll - I'll try my best to keep the others safe, but who took you?"

"I'm sorry, Andrew, I- I didn't mean to, please believe I didn't mean to leave, they- some of the Butcher's pals found me, I'm so sorry- I put all of you in danger again."

"Okay, that's something we can work with, now where are you Neil?"

"Andrew-" his breath hitches, he gasps and whimpers, "I'm so sorry, I have to go, I need to leave Andrew. Please stay safe. Look I- I love you okay? I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier."

"Neil wait don't hang up-"

And the line goes dead.

The world is falling apart, collapsing all around Andrew. He's numb but he feels encompassing terror. He can't feel a thing, he can't think. He was so close. It feels like Neil just slipped past his fingers, like he just let go of Neil and let him fall to the darkness. He thinks he may be falling too. He needs to call Browning. He does it instinctively, he doesn't register he has his phone to his ear until the FBI agents voice is calling to him. He also goes with what he's gonna say with the same instinct he pulled in Baltimore, knowing he can't mention certain mafia.

"Neil just called me, I have no idea from where, I have no idea how he got a hold of me, he didn't say a thing, he refused to say a thing other than we're in danger, the foxes, and that whoever took him will come for us- oh and apparently it's someone involved with the Butcher."

How he managed to be as apathetic and unattached to everything he said is beyond him. But whatever he says and whatever Browning says, FBI agents are now guarding them in the locker room of the Foxhole Court, with mattresses and mats laid down on the floor. and he doesn't know how they got here and he's cuffed all over again, but this time to Renee even if he doesn't remember being violent. Even the stupid rookies are here, looking extremely panicked and terrified despite most of them not giving a fuck that Neil was gone just hours ago. The other foxes - Neil's family - are pressing Andrew for answers, but he can't deal with anything at the moment.

He needs to call Ichirou too. That's the call that matters, because that's the call that can bring Neil home because he can't do that himself while cuffed to Renee and being guarded by the fucking FBI. He somehow convinces the agent to let him make a call, to his therapist he says, to grant him privacy even if that's utter bullshit. He's dragging Renee into the eye of the storm but oh well, why did they cuff him to her in the first place, it's not his fault. He calls the Moriyama representative he's been dealing with and thank Renee's god the woman answers.

"I need to talk to- to Lord Ichirou, it's about Neil Josten's whereabouts, I got important information about him." He can feel both the condescension from the other end of the line and poorly veiled shock from Renee. "I know where he is, I know about who's got him, I need to talk to Lord Moriyama."

He isn't sure how he managed it. He doesn't know how he convinced them to let them talk to their mafia boss, or how he's able to keep his cool for long enough to actually talk to the man himself. He thinks having Renee there, who asks no questions and keeps her hand on top of Andrew's with no hesitation, is part of the solution but he's not admitting that. Either or, he talks to Ichirou (he can't deny he's not terrified of messing up with the man who keeps Neil alive, but he's not admitting that either), reminds him of how Neil is important to the Moriyamas, both as an exy player and as a Wesninski, and how Neil, Kevin and Jean are loyal to the Moriyamas, hints at how Ichirou promised protection. He has perfect memory, but he will never remember how he convinced Ichirou Moriyama to send people to Minnesota and look for him all over the state and surrounding states, all he knows is that Ichirou stuck to his promise, all is good, he didn't fuck up.

Weeks pass again, nothing happens. There's no news from the Moriyamas, the FBI keeps telling him they're doing what they can. Andrew is done. No one came looking for them at least, which is nice bc they didn't die but it doesn't feel worth it when Neil wasn't back. He feels stupid for hoping he would come back safe and alive. The Moriyamas might as well have killed him for being such an inconvenience. Things are going to hell. Andrew was an idiot for falling so hard for Neil Josten. It was a mistake. He should have known better.

His anger is gone, and numbness has settled. It was becoming a habit for him to remain lying down most of the day. It was also becoming a habit for the foxes to take care of him when he did this. He can't even bother to shower if someone doesn't remind him every day, or eat, or drink water for that matter. He's a mess and he would be incredibly embarrassed if he cared a little, but he's slipping and he doesn't mind falling. Nothing is fine. Until it is.

It comes in the form of a text one morning, while he's lying on the couch in the living room. An unknown number again, New York code, and it only reads, "Threat has been dealt with - I". And what the fuck does that mean. It tells him absolutely nothing. If Ichirou bothered to text him he could at least be clear as to what the fuck that meant. Was Neil even alive? There is a soft knock at the door. Of course, someone bothers him when no other fox is at the dorm. They couldn't ditch every class to make sure Andrew didn't combust spontaneously.

He truly doesn't want to get up. He doesn't want to go answer the door. It's too much a bother. If it's someone important they'll either knock again aor shout for him to open up. He curls up in bed. He honestly wants to disappear. There's another knock, a little harder than the first. But there's no voice, no demand, no nothing. Maybe it's a Moriyama. Maybe he'll feel so disrespected or whatever he's gonna barge in and end his misery. Whatever. "Fuck off", he shouts from the couch, hoping for the best. There's another knock, for fuck's sake, can they just walk in already? Another, and he's up. Pissed and going for the door.

"Fucking hell, what do you want?" His anger is back with a passion, and he's practically stomping to the door, throwing it wide open, "Just barge through the fucking door, and get it over with-"

He has to stop exploding when people don't answer to him right away. Maybe he should work on his patience. Because frankly it has been working against him at the worst times. No it's not his fault. It's the idiot's fault for appearing at out nowhere and stealing his breath away. Everything is Neil Josten's fault.

"Hey Drew," said idiot's voice is impossibly more hoarse than when he called him before. Andrew can't tell if his heart is beating too fast or not at all. He thought he was a mess, but Neil looks like he's been through hell and back. Well, he's been through hell and back too many times before, but he's never looked this bad, and he was a mess after Evermore. His face is beaten so badly, so swollen, if he didn't know him and those stupidly blue eyes so well. Even his eyes are different, there's no spark, they're dull and hazy. He's wearing a large hoodie and sweatpants, so Andrew can't see the damage beyon his face, but at least his hands remain okay, there's no new damage. "Looks like I still have it in me to leave you speechless, huh."

Andrew takes a deep breath and he sighs. And his heart breaks. Neil. Neil. Neil is here. Andrew wants to craddle him and hold him and never let him go again. He doesn't care if it's soft, Neil is here. He raises his hands, frames Neil's face like he has before. He presses a hand to Neil's neck, looking for a pulse, and he finds it. He's alive.

"Neil," he breathes, and he feels. He feels. "You're alive, I thought, you-"

They're both silent. Andrew doesn't notice when Neil raises his hands, framing his own face. They've been here before.

"I'm not leaving you, I promised right? You're not getting rid of me that easily. "

He hates feeling this much, "You've got some explaining to do, but- it can wait."

"That's good yeah, because I'm not sure how much longer I can remain conscious and the Moriyamas weren't the best at patching everything up, so I'd really appreciate it if you call Abby."

He doesn't trust himself to open his mouth, so he guides Neil inside, holding on to his hand like a tether. Neil deflates, he grimaces as Andrew helps him to the couch. He's obviously hiding something below the clothes. Andrew stands to call Abby, but Neil grips his hand tightly. When Andrew looks up, he sees the fear and exhaustion he heard on the call weeks ago. Neil isn't able to keep up the act of being okay for long.

"Stay, pl- just," he looks away, and Andrew doesn't know how to feel about the pause, he didn't say the word, "can you stay?"

And he does. Things aren't fine. Neil is a mess. So is Andrew. They have to work through stuff. Andrew clearly has to work on the apparent dependancy issues. But they'll have time now. Neil is safe. He's alive and safe. He lost consciousness not long after he sat down, but Abby, Wymack and the foxes are on their way. They're not fine. But Neil is lying next to him, and he isn't gonna let him go again. They'll be fine.

[lilbabycee]

brunch // steve rogers

↳ request:  oh requests are open? can I get a possesive stevie with a soft bratty spoiled reader? i'm sorry I'm such a hoe @donutloverxo​

↳ relationship: steve rogers x reader

↳ word count: 1.6k

↳ author’s note: i am a whore in a woman’s shoes and that is all

you’ve got plans this morning. it’s rare for you to be the one vying to get out of bed but you’d promised bucky last week that you’d meet him for brunch today, and since it’s his first time going, you want this experience to be a lot of fun for him. 

(tony offered, but you knew that it would be a dire mistake if you left the genius billionaire in charge of it because he would’ve scared the poor man off)

regardless, you’re proud of bucky - he’s finally growing into his hollow shell, making it a point to go out of his comfort zone and broaden his horizons. 

so you’ll be damned if the sleepy - but still so strong? - supersoldier curled against your body with his arms wound tightly around your waist will stop his girlfriend from showing his best friend a really good time. 

(now that you really take it into consideration, that doesn’t sound quite right)

but you don’t care because steve’s being selfish and while any other time it would make you undeniably aroused, this is bucky and you don’t want to disappoint him. you hate that kicked puppy look in his steel-blue eyes, one that you recognize all too well because it’s the same look that you use to guilt-trip your stevie.

“steve, i gotta go get ready,” you murmur, running the pad of your thumb over his cheekbone. he’s still hiding those baby blues from you, long eyelashes resting light against his skin. 

you watch in mild amusement as his eyebrows knit together and he pushes out his full lips into a tiny little pout. it almost makes you want to coo at him. 

faster than you can comprehend, he’s flipped you around so that his chin is resting on your shoulder. he presses his lips to the bare skin of your shoulder and then settles back down behind you, evidently with no intention of moving. 

“no, baby,” he grumbles, the sound reverberating in his chest and, by extension, the column of your spine. a shockwave of pleasure runs through you at the feeling, your cunt clenching completely shamelessly because his voice in the morning is by far the most sinful thing that you’ve ever heard TM. 

it sounds like sandpaper, warm and rich and grating against the sharp edges of your stubbornness and sanding it down bit by bit until there’s nothing but smooth corners and round sides. 

you don’t have to turn around to know that the ghost of a smug little smirk is etched onto his face when he feels you shiver against the hard planes of his body. 

“you like that, hmm, doll?” he speaks again, lips right against your ear and the register of his voice somehow even lower than before. “you like it when i talk to you like that?”

“stevie,” you whine petulantly, your core throbbing again because he knows exactly what he’s doing and it’s not fair.

“tell you what, honey,” one of his hands leaves your waist to trail up and down your leg, the featherlight touches making your sensitive skin burn under his fingers. “you stay with me and i’ll speak to you like this all,” he draws out the word as his teeth catch on your earlobe, “you want, hmm?”

there he goes with the sandpaper again, patiently working away and getting almost embarrassingly close to wearing you down completely. yet something about the sultry drawl of his brooklyn accent makes you snap out of it because you’re supposed to be meeting bucky- 

so you take advantage of his slack hands and wiggle out of his hold, jumping out of your shared bed and making a beeline toward the bathroom. 

(you don’t dare look over your shoulder in fear of the rage that you know will be written all over his handsome face, so you only throw a sorry, daddy! at him before locking the door)

and when you step out in the outfit that you’d left in there last night, steve’s hazy blue eyes clear of their tired fog and become as bright as the sun shining through the slit between your drawn curtains. he stretches his arms out - you can’t help but stare at the muscles rippling underneath his skin - before resting them behind his head. 

his feigned nonchalance is almost entirely transparent; his eyes staying glued to your body while you fiddle with the silk ties on your top and the way that he runs his tongue over his lower lip doesn’t go unnoticed despite the fact that you’re slightly preoccupied.

“where’re you goin’ anyway, sweetheart?” his gaze roams downwards, lingering on the light and breezy material of your pink skirt. 

“brunch,” you reply softly, not even sparing him a glance because why did you buy this shirt if you have no idea how to fucking put it on. 

“right - with nat?” he says, squinting when he sees the stretches of exposed skin on your legs. his hand snakes underneath the covers and you’re fighting the upwards quirk of your lips as he so obviously palms at his erection.

“no, with bucky,” you throw out carelessly, proud of yourself because you’ve finally managed to wrap the white blouse around your body, tying the back into a bow. as you look up, you lift an eyebrow at the amount of unexpected cleavage it shows 

(but you’re not complaining because it looks so pretty)

your reflection makes you notice that you’re missing earrings and a necklace still, and some rings or something wouldn’t hurt…

what you’ve failed to notice is how heavy the silence in the room has gotten, the tension almost visible between the two of you. it’s when you retrieve your silver hoops that you realize that steve has gone awfully quiet, and you’re in the middle of putting the second one on when you meet his stare in the mirror. 

he’s now sitting up more than before, still slouching lazily while he watches you in a way that you can only describe as predatory. where steve’s eyes are usually the purest baby blue in the mornings, they’re now far past blueberries and into the territory of being the color of the hudson at night. 

it makes your eyes double in size as you watch him, his hand continuing to rub at his cock through the thin material of his boxers.

(the sight alone is ruining your new thong and you don’t even have the heart to be mad about it)

“bucky, huh?” is all he says, pulling his lower lip between his teeth briefly.

“yeah,” your voice is quiet but you know that he can hear it perfectly well. you also know that he can probably smell your arousal from where he’s sitting, a fact that doesn’t make you as embarrassed as you maybe should be. “told you last week.”

“must’ve forgotten,” he brushes you off dismissively, blatantly staring at the curve of your ass. “you always get dressed up this pretty for buck, baby?”

“no,” your response is shaky and you still haven’t turned around yet, continuing your conversation entirely with the reflection of your boyfriend sprawled out on the bed behind you. 

you decide that he looks like something out of a playgirl magazine and you love it. 

“you tryna impress bucky, sweetheart?” he probes with a jerk of his head, one of the corners of his mouth threatening a smile. “wanna dress all pretty and go be bucky’s little slut, hmm, baby? what happened to daddy?”

this makes you audibly choke 

(you can’t help but think that you’d like to choke on only one thing right now)

but steve pushes on like he never heard you.

“i thought you were daddy’s good baby. now you wanna be a little whore for daddy’s best friend? is that it, honey? leavin’ daddy here alone to go be a dirty fuckin’ slut for bucky? daddy was gonna let you ride his cock, baby, but maybe you should go ride bucky’s instead.”

you can’t deny the way that his condescending voice makes you grip onto your dresser for dear life, your legs threatening to give out underneath you as your skin overheats with desire. 

but you can’t help the words that come out of your mouth next - he’s set it up too perfectly for you.

“maybe I will, daddy.”

you know that he likes it when you mess with him, wind him up so tight that the spring inside his chest is in danger of popping off at any second. it gives him an excuse to fuck you into his mattress with your hands tied behind your back as you beg him to let you cum

(not that he needs one)

so when you think about it, the punishment that you’ll get for this is really for the both of you. you’re doing him a favor.

it’s too bad that you can’t say the same about your ass.

what feels like instantaneously, he’s up right behind you, pushing his very obvious erection against your ass. 

your waist is trapped between his hands until a hard smack lands on your ass, one that makes you jolt forward so hard that everything neatly lined up on top of your chest of drawers shakes and falls. 

you don’t even have the time to gasp before his thick thumb is shoved between your lips, the pad resting on your tongue as he strokes it gently.

“oh, baby,” he tuts, rutting into you harder and faster, his other hand roughly flipping up your skirt at the front to grab your cunt possessively. “my dumb little baby. you need me to remind you who this pussy belongs to? need daddy to tell you who owns your cunt, babydoll?”

his words make you clench in anticipation and the warmth of his hand seeping through the lace of your soaked panties makes your next words come easy.

“yes, daddy.”