#just wants to stare down any asshats eyeing her girl the wrong way

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Redemption

Pairing: Tom!Peter Parker x Teen!Reader

Word Count: ~2.9k

Warnings: bullying (from you), feeling guilty and sad for treating him such, angst

Summary: You don't hate Peter. You hate that you're jealous of him. You hate that he always gets good grades without trying while you bust your ass and fail. When you find his diary, you learn more about Peter than you probably should know.

Squares Filled: regret for @spider-man-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

It’s another peaceful walk to school. Your apartment building is only a few blocks from your high school, so your mom allows you to walk it if you only stick to the well-known paths and avoid strange people on the sidewalk. She’s been paranoid ever since she saw in the news about some little girl getting kidnapped by someone on the streets. It took a lot to convince her that you would be fine, so she agreed if you stuck to her terms, which you do.

You’re blaring your favorite music through your headphones as you tune out everyone around you. You’re looking down at the sidewalk so you don’t see someone come barreling your way. The person almost knocks you to the ground, so you yank your headphones off and glare at the person who did it. 

Of course, it’s Peter fucking Parker. He catches his footing and continues to walk past you as if he has somewhere else more important to be.

“Watch where you’re going, asshat!” you yell after him.

Peter mumbles an apology without so much as a look back at you, and you roll your eyes in annoyance. Out of everyone in school, he’s the one who annoys you the most. He thinks just because he’s so fucking smart that the rest of the rules don’t apply to him. When he gets in trouble, the teachers end up giving him a slap-on-the-wrist punishment because he gets good grades and keeps to himself. 

He doesn’t pay attention half the time but he gets stellar grades. You work your ass off and the best you can get is a B, mostly C’s. He pisses you off because you’re so jealous of him. It’s not him as a person, he’s actually quite nice, it’s the fact that he doesn’t even try and still gets everything he wants. You try so hard but still fail. Your annoyance and pissy mood have evolved into snappy comments and rude stares.

You walk the rest of the way without music, and you immediately head to your first class which so happens to be science. You’re not doing well in that class but Peter is, and he makes sure to show off intentionally or not. Today in class is lab day, and you’re supposed to mix certain chemicals to create a foamy mixture that grows a lot.

Peter shifts in his seat anxiously and watches the clock count down. You grab the ingredients that are listed in the book and glance at Peter.

“Peter, I need your help. I don’t know what I’m doing.” Peter snaps out of his trance and sets up the main portion of the lab. He grabs his phone to check the time and ends up getting distracted by one of his notifications. “I think we need this one, right?” When Peter doesn’t answer, you kick his chair lightly. “Peter, is this the right one?”

“Hold on, give me a second.”

You roll your eyes and pour what you think is the right amount of the chemical you believe to be right. The mixture doesn’t match and ends up exploding, sending shards of glass across your table. The mixture spills onto the desk and you quickly move the papers to avoid them from getting ruined.

“Fuck!”

“Y/N! Language!” your teacher scolds. A few students laugh at your failure, and you feel tears prick your eyes. “Don’t move, let me get paper towels.”

“If Peter bothered to help me, then maybe I might actually get something done right. He’s staring at his phone.”

“Peter, put your phone away before I take it for the day.”

Your teacher helps you clean up the mess before getting you a new glass beaker. Peter puts his phone in his bag and slumps in his chair.

“Thanks a lot,” Peter mumbles.

“Get your head out of your ass and do your part.”

“You did it wrong.”

Of course, you did. Here’s Peter Parker to the fucking rescue. He makes this shit look so easy. He grabs the right chemicals and pours the right amount into the beaker. It grows and spills over the top like it’s supposed to. God, you feel like such a failure.

“I hate you,” you mumble under your breath but Peter hears.

His shoulders sag sadly from your comment but he chooses not to respond to it. You don’t really hate him. You hate how brilliant he is. You hate how he makes you feel. You hate that you don’t hate him at all.

The next two classes go by without a hitch for two reasons. You have English and Math which are your favorite subjects, and Peter isn’t in your classes to annoy you. However, economics is your next one which you have Peter in. If you think science is your worst subject, it’s economics. As much as you try to understand and study the packets, it’s not clicking with you. The teacher once had to create a special packet for you dumbing it down really far. It made you feel like an idiot, especially when Peter picked up on it so easily.

What is with that kid? Can’t he see how jealous you are of him? It’s like he likes torturing you on purpose. Much like in science, you and Peter are paired for a project involving creating your own city with its own rules. He’s distracted by whatever is on his phone while you’re doing all the work. Typical. 

You grab the textbook and look at the current chapter you’re on. It has everything you need to create your own city. The only thing Peter was good at was naming it, and you’re struggling with putting the rules down on paper. You write out the first rule as this is a democracy. The teacher split the class in half so that one half is Democrats and the other is Republicans.

“Peter, what is so important that you can’t help me?” you sigh and look at him. “You know I suck at this class.”

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” he mumbles and gathers his things.

“What?” Peter quickly excuses himself to the bathroom and runs out of class, leaving you to fend for yourself. “Asswipe!”

“Y/N! Language!” the teacher glares at you.

You roll your eyes and try your best not to sit there and cry from stress and jealousy. When class is over, you find Peter by his locket putting things into it. You slam your hand into the locker beside yours causing him to flinch.

“Thanks a lot for ditching me,” you glare. “Next time you do, I’m going straight to the teacher. You’re not Captain America. You don’t get a free pass here.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter stutters. “It’s just that--”

“I don’t want to hear your sorry excuses. Now you get to finish the project by yourself.”

You shove the folder into his hands and stalk off without another word. His shoulder sags as soon as you’re out of view, and he bangs his head against his locker in defeat. Ned walks up to him already knowing why his friend is like this.

“Is it Y/N again?”

“I don’t get why she hates me so much,” Peter sighs and shoves the project into his locker.

The bell rings to signal lunch and you close your locker to meet up with your friend. You turn the corner to another hallway and spot something black on the ground. Everyone is walking by it as if it means nothing to them. Upon further examination, you see that it’s a notebook. You turn to the first page and see the words, “My Journal” written on it. It’s a diary. Someone dropped their diary, but there is no name to indicate who this belongs to.

Now if this was your diary and someone randomly picked it up, would you want them to read it? It’s kind of hard to answer since you don’t have a diary. With a shrug, you turn to the first entry to see if there is something to tell you who the writer is.

There’s a girl in my class who I can’t stop thinking about. I haven’t known her long but she is the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Hair that seems as long as Rapunzel’s, eyes that get me lost whenever I look into them, smooth skin, and freckles that dance across her cheeks. I’m too nervous to go up to her and have a conversation with her. What would I say? What could I say that won’t make me look like an idiot? Every morning I see her, it’s like all reason goes flying out of my head. She talks to me but I can’t help but stutter in response. She makes me so nervous. Is that a good thing? I don’t know anymore.

There is another entry next to that one, and you can’t help but read it as you walk to the lunch room.

I think she hates me. She’s always calling me an asswipe or asshat for everything I mess up on. She’s in four of my classes and we’re paired in projects for three of them. I try to get the teacher to pair me with someone else to spare her feelings but that never happens. I don’t know why she hates me. I haven’t done anything to her. Nothing I do seems to be right in her eyes. Maybe I should give up this tiny crush I have on her. Ned tells me I’m wasting my time. I don’t know how to fix what I have with her.

Asswipe? Asshat? Ned? Does this diary belong to Peter? He has a crush on you? Your heart hurts at “I don’t know why she hates me. I haven’t done anything to her”. Your jealousy of Peter is rubbing off the wrong way. Suddenly, you regret everything you have ever said to him. You didn’t mean to hurt him. Your jealousy has put a film over your eyes and prevented you from seeing how much you’re hurting him.

We had a project today in science class. He must have written this today. I wanted to help her. I know she’s struggling in most classes. Usually, I would have. I hate seeing her stress about something that comes so easily to me. I’d tutor her if I didn’t think she’d bite my head off or make some jab about it. Today, I noticed something on my phone that almost got me in trouble. Ned told me that someone was selling drugs next to the school. I had to leave to stop them or else who knows who might have gotten involved. I hated leaving her in class like that but I had to.

You should stop reading. You should just shut this and return it to Peter who is probably frantically looking for it. You walk into the lunch room and see him and Ned huddled together at a lunch table with MJ seated across from them. He doesn’t look in a panic. He might not know it’s gone. You should walk up to him and hand it back but you can’t stop reading. This is how you’re going to know how he feels. Instead of doing the right thing, you turn and find a secluded spot in the back and continue reading.

I can’t believe I got to leave the country! I have never thought to get a passport much less my driver’s license. Not only did I get to go to Germany, I went with Iron Man! He was like ‘Peter, I need you to come with me and help fight Captain America with me’. I was like ‘I don’t know if I should’ but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. I didn’t think I would be fighting more than Captain America, but there I was ready to give it my all! I even went up the big, bad, scary Winter Solider. He went to punch me, and I caught his metal arm. Metal arm! How cool is that?! I have never been part of something so special before.

Your mouth drops open when you read about his adventure with Captain America and Iron Man. This journal is out of order since the airport battle happened a month or so ago. Still, he was there. Is he superhuman? Someone with powers?

I kind of wish people knew I was Spider-Man. The only person who knows is Ned because he caught me crawling on the ceiling in my bedroom. I wish I could tell Y/N but she’d probably hate me more than she already does. I’m scared she’d spread that secret around school just to spite me. I truly don’t know why she hates me. I try every day to get on her good side. I like her so much. She’s so beautiful and smart and energetic. I see her around her friends all the time. I wish she was like that with me. I hate that I’m screwing this up, whatever it is we have. I don’t know how to fix it.

Guilt weighs heavily on your shoulders at the way you’ve been treating Peter. Just because you’re not as smart as him doesn’t mean you should take your frustrations out on him. It doesn’t even faze you that he’s Spider-Man. Peter noticed you in the back reading something. He knows you were there reading so it’s not like you can walk up to him now and return the diary. What would you even say?

You close the diary and shove it into your backpack before heading to your next class. Your stomach grumbles from having missed lunch but you’ll live. This is the last period of the day, so you’ll eat when you get home. Peter is in this class and just so happens to sit next to you. The teacher passes out project details you need to be paired for, and she pairs you with Peter. He’s bouncing his leg anxiously and staring at the clock.

You look at him just as the teacher sets the paper on the desk. He wants to leave. He has better things to do than sit here with you and complete some project. He fought with Captain America and has super spider powers. Why is he still in school? Peter does a double-take at you when he catches you staring at him.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No. You look nervous. Do you need to be somewhere?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“You should go,” you whisper. Peter looks at you with a surprised look. You hate when he leaves you to do all the work. Why are you telling him to abandon you now? “I can do this by myself. Say you need to go to the bathroom or something. It’s last period anyway, so it won’t matter much.”

“Are you sure? You’re not gonna yell at me?”

His comment breaks your heart. You hate yourself for how you’ve been treating him.

“No,” you shake your head.

“Thanks.”

Peter gives you an award-winning smile and excuses himself to the bathroom. The teacher doesn’t even notice that he has grabbed all of his things. This class always goes by quickly, so you’re home before you even know it. The rest of Peter’s journal is filled with entries about how good you looked, how he saved you from a man who was following you one day, and how he doesn’t know how to confess his feelings for you.

This journal belongs back to the original owner. You scribble a note for him to find in an envelope with his name on it just in case his aunt sees this before him. Peter’s apartment is only a few blocks from yours, so you head over there knowing he probably won’t be home. He’s off being a hero somewhere, so you feel safe to drop this off without being caught. You drop the book at the front door and knock three times before leaving.

Peter answers the door having only been home for an hour to do homework before he’s off doing his hero duties. He looks down the hallway but doesn’t see anyone. He looks down and notices his journal with an envelope on top of it. He grabs it and goes to his room to read the note privately.

Peter,  I am sorry for how I’ve been treating you. I want you to know that it’s not you. You’re very nice. It’s the fact that I’m jealous of how smart you are. You pass every class and get good grades while I try my best and get B’s and C’s. I know that’s not an excuse for how I’ve treated you. I wish I could take everything I said back. I hope we can be friends… maybe more than that someday. I understand if you don’t ever want to talk to me again. Anyway, I just want you to know how great and amazing you are. Keep being you. P.S Your secret is safe with me. If I ever see Spider-Man swinging about, I’ll be thinking of you. Y/N

Peter doesn't care that you read his journal. He would have if he found one lying about. He smiles at the knowledge of you knowing his biggest secret and the fact that you might have a small crush on him. He can’t wait to see you tomorrow at school.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[roadkillremi]

Randy Meeks x Ghostface!Fem!Reader and TOXIC!Poly!Ghostface x Ghostface!Fem!Reader

Part 1 Part 3 MasterList

Warnings : MINORS DNI Mentions Killing, Mentions plans on Killing, Language, Mentions Family Problems, Non consented kiss, Smut, Blow Job, Switch!Reader, Sub!Randy, fingering, Toxic Relationship. (If I missed any let me know please!)

I do NOT support toxic relationships like the one displayed or murdering. If this is happening to you or a loved one reach help ASAP!

Summary : Being childhood friends with Billy Loomis wasn't always easy. As you got older he demanded revenge and that you helped him. (He may have manipulated you along the way). After helping kill Sydney's mother you refused to help anymore. Billy and Stu forced you to stay due to blackmail causing you to be in a toxic secret relationship.

You put your duffle bag in the corner of Tatum's room. Dewey had brought you a sleeping bag and pillow which was curled up near Sydney's temporary bed.

"Isn't this fun!" Tatum smiled.

"I mean under bad circumstances but super fun!" She sat on her bed watching you put your stuff aside. You smiled at her, "Yeah we should do this more often!". Sydney walked in holding a book bag one for school and one for clothes. She sat on the bed and smiled softly.

"We don't have to go to Stus dumb party, Tomorrow do we?" You asked looking at the two girls.

"Uh, of course we do! It'll be fun! Plus maybe you'll finally take Randy's virginity!" Tatum joked. You rolled your eyes and smiled, "there's nothing wrong with waiting, Tatum". Sydney looked over at you, "why are you waiting?". You sighed and sat on the floor between the girls.

"I never told him I'm not a virgin. I think that'll upset him..it's stupid." You lied.

You've gotten pretty good at that lately.

"Wait you'd you lose your virginity to?!" Tatum bounced on the mattress. You smirked, "Some guy. It's when I was visiting my dad. He was cool I guess.".

Another lie. It was Billy.

Dewey came into the room, "hey uh, we gotta go to the station." Tatum rolled her eyes before getting up.

You sat on the cold metal chair next to Tatum.

"I was with Randy the night of Casey's death. He closed up around 9:30 he was my ride home." You stared into the sheriff's eyes. Your dad had a bad reputation in the past and it seemed the cops believe it carried down.

"We have to ask it's nothing personal." Dewey said with a small smile. You nodded, "is that all?!" Tatum said staring at the two officers. You both left to go sit by Sydney.

"I'm gonna call Randy real quick" you said as you got up. You asked to use a phone and they lead you to a desk where there wasn't much people. You dialed the video stores number hoping Randy would answer.

"Bradley Video, this is Randy speaking"

"Randy.." your voice came out tired and weak.

"Baby? What's up?" He sounded concerned.

"I'm at the police station and I got questioned. They mentioned my dad since y'know.."

"Those asshats.. Do I need to get you?"

"No, I'm staying at Tatum's. I just wanted to update you. How's work? Any new suspects?" You asked trying to lighten the mood.

"No, but don't you think it's weird it's near Sydney's Moms death anniversary..". Your stomach dropped, you noticed and it wasn't an accident.

"Yeah, you think it's like a Requal or Franchise?" You asked twirling the cord with your fingers.

"No, clue. Anyway I gotta get back to work before they try to fire me again. Bye, love youuu"

"Love you too, Geek." You hung up the phone and walked back to the girls. Tatum was explaining how the cops assumed the worse of you due to your father.

"The nerve. Her dad just had a habit of stealing and the town goes wild." Tatum complained. You smiled interrupting the conversation, "don't worry about it. I'm used to it." You sat by Sydney, "need anything?". She shook her head no, you looked at her.

"I really think we shouldn't go to that party."

"What?! Why?! You think Stu's the killer!!" Tatum practically yelled.

"No! I'm just saying a big group of teenagers its bound to draw attention." You said trying to ease Tatum. She bit her bottom lip, "Come on, it'll be fun".

"Tatum's right. It'll be fun." Sydney said softly. You sighed, Billy was escorted into the integration room.

"Sydney!" He yelled. You rolled your eyes and flipped him off as he walked by. Tatum sighed checking the clock on the wall.

"Can we go, Dewey!" She yelled. Dewey sighed looking around before nodding. You all squeezed past the mob of news reporters and cameras. Gale somehow pushed her way to Sydney and held a microphone to her mouth. It was too loud to catch what Gale was saying. You were busying panicking and looking for an escape. Then Gale was practically on the sidewalk, Sydney put her fist down. All four of you ran to Dewey's car before heading back to Tatum's house.

You laid in your sleeping bag worrying about Randy. All Stu had to do was get the idea and kill him. You sat up, "Can I use your phone?".

"Randy's fine, honey. I promise." Tatum smiled before tossing one of her stuffed bears in the air. You sighed before laying back down. He'd call you if anything went wrong. His sister would tell you if he got home late and would ask if he was with you, right? You tried to close your eyes ignore the girls conversation.

"Sydney there's someone on the phone for you." Tatum's mom stood in the doorway. You looked over and watched Sydney walk away moments before her scream. You stumbled out of the sleeping bag.

Sydney was in tears clinging to the phone, Tatum's mom was telling trying to get Dewey's attention. Once he came out from his room the caller hung up. You looked at Sydney before she went into the room hiding under her covers. You sighed looking at the ground. Tatum went to comfort Sydney, "may I use your phone?" You looked at Tatum's mom. She nodded following Dewey downstairs. You dialed Randy's house phone, it continued to ring.

"come on jackass." You whispered. His mom picked up in a bit of a tired tone.

"Mrs.Meeks hi! It's uh... It's Randy's Girlfriend. I need to speak to him it's important."

She mumbled an okay, moments later Randy was on the phone.

"What's up?" He grumbled softly.

"Sydney just got a call from the killer.." you kept your voice low. You heard shuffling, "Do I need to get you? Are you safe?". You bit your bottom lip, "I feel bad if I leave.".

"It doesn't matter. Are you safe or not?" You went silent again. Tears pooled in your eyes, not from fear from guilt.

"Can you get me?" You asked sheepishly.

"Yeah give me a minute." His cranky voice left the phone leaving you in the hall. You looked in Tatum's room, "Um, my Aunt's gonna get me, she's worried.". Another lie, your Aunt was probably hooking up with some guy. The girls nodded before continuing the conversation. You packed up your things and said goodbye and waiting by the front door looking out the window.

Once Randy's car appear you quickly walked outside. The cold breeze making your legs feel numb. You were in pajama shorts and a giant Carrie Tee Randy gifted you. You put your stuff in the back seat before hoping in the passenger seat.

"Thank you." You smiled softly. He smiled lazily, his eyes coated with sleep. He was in his pajamas too, his hands lazily grasping the wheel.

"Sorry I woke you and your mom up.." you whispered.

"It's fine. Shes too old to remember that it happened."

You gently placed your hand on his thigh. You observed him while he drove to his place.

"Darling, you gotta stop starin' " he joked in that damn British accent. You smiled, "but you're so pretty..". Randys face turned a soft pink, you smiled at him.

Pretty wasn't a normal word for men. But Randy loved it, he loved being called your pretty boy. You treasured him a bit too much Tatum would tell you. Now you're just afraid of losing him.

"Randy, I need to tell you something.."

"What is it?"

"You can't freak out.. or tell anyone."

"okay..." He parked into the driveway turning the car off.

"Sydney's mom slept with my dad. My parents spilt obviously. That's why I live with my aunt." Randy just stared at you.

"I'm not a suspect." You add in a harsh tone.

"Says any suspect." He smiled. He didn't look weirded out just confused.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Because Billy made you feel like a freak.

"I was ashamed."

"I mean, I wouldn't mention it to Sydney she might freak out. But I'm not gonna humiliate you and pour pigs blood all over you." He smiled referencing your T-shirt.

He gently kissed you before getting out the car. You grabbed your bags quietly walking into the house. You placed your stuff by the left side of his bed before climbing in. Randy flopped on the bed groaning.

This could be the last time you see him. You moved closer to him fiddling with the waist band of his pajama pants. He groaned looking over at you.

"Randy... can I?.." you bit your lip before finishing the sentence. You were scared it was your only chance before tomorrow. He just stared at you, drowsiness taking over, "I wanna.. blow you.." you whispered. Both of your faces covered in pinks and reds. He nodded watching you gently pull down his pants.

You knew you had to do this before he died. You needed to show him how much you love him. You cupped his member which was held back in his boxers. He whined softly fluttering his eyes closed. A gentle squeeze before pulling his boxers down. His member sprung up, precum already leaking from the tip.

"Baby.." you cooed at him. He just whined waiting for you to do what you asked. He was bigger than you expected, you spat in your hand before stroking him. He breathed heavily, his virgin body trying to take it all. He gripped the sheets fucking himself into your hand.

"Randy... You're so cute like this.. all pathetic and needy.." you whispered. He moaned in response, you licked a stripe up his needy cock before taking him in your mouth.

His moans grew a bit louder, his hand touched your hair before leaving it. He wasn't sure what to do but he liked it. Your head bobbing up and down on him. He knew this would be great but not heavenly. Your tongue did wonders around him while your hand caressed his balls. He bit his lip trying not to come undone so quickly.

"I'm... I'm.." he tried to speak but breathy moans would escape.

"I'm gonna cum.." he whined. You lifted your head up replacing your mouth with your hand.

"Do you wanna come in my mouth?" You asked softly. He nodded quickly trying to hold back. You out your mouth back to work downing him faster as he fucked into your mouth. Randy arched his back a bit before letting out a soft cry. His seed was inside your mouth, you swallowed taking rushed breaths.

"I'm gonna die now.." He whispersd with a goofy smile on his face. You smiled at him before crawling back up to him. You took his clammy hand and slid it up your shirt. Randy watched in disbelief, you lead his hand to your breast. He gently squeezed it smiling at you.

"Can I hold them when I try to sleep?"

You smiled nodding, his thumb went over your nipple releasing a breathy moan from you. You laid down beside him letting his spoon you so he had access. He held onto your chest gently squeezing them. Your core was uncomfortable due to the lack of attention. You softly humped the blanket searching for a release. Randy dug his face into your neck letting out a smirk.

"We're breaking the rules.." he whispered. You whined knowing he was watching you try to find a release. Your hand softly rubbing through your shorts.

"Randy..." You whined, his hand slide down in between your legs. He wasn't sure he was doing but he tried. He put his hand through your underwear softly touching your soaked folds. You softly moaned, "Randy please...". He prayed he was doing the correct thing puting his finger in your hole. You back softly arched, he smiled knowing he was right. He left sloppy kisses on your neck. His thumb gently rubbed your clit as he fingered you.

"H-how... Do.. you know.. how to.." you moaned and whined in between words. He continued gaining another boner which was pressed against your ass.

"Porn tapes" he whispered, you went silent with your moaning. He got scared you were mad, "I wanted to pleasure you correctly..". You smiled to yourself, "keep going, Randy..". He smiled and continued to finger you, he learned to use two fingers and curl them up. He listened to your moans, they got more frequent when you were close. You bit your lip, his fingers pumped in and out of you quickly. Randy softly moaned as you tightened around him. Your framed stiffened and body arched as you came. Randy watched in amazement of the scene. He slowly took his fingers out licking them off. He groaned at the taste, you smiled and curled up to him.

"Did you like it?" You asked. Randy nodded aggressively, "Yes!". He gave you a giant sloppy kiss before passing out on the bed.

School was painful to get through knowing the party was soon. You tried to talk Randy out of going but he insisted on going also. Billy was back in class and eyed you every chance he got. When he got the chance he pulled you into a janitors closet pinning you against the wall.

"Thought your stunt was funny last night, huh?" He tilted his head.

"Billy grow up-" you glared trying to escape him. His grip was too strong and he didn't move a muscle.

"tonights the night." He whispered.

"you know the plan?" He added watching you avoid him. You nodded, he grabbed your chin making you look at him.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Scared about your little boy toy?" He smiled.

"He fucked me last night. And it felt great. Better than you actually." He chuckled in response.

"Randy? You've gotta be joking! Guy couldn't find the clit if he tried."

"Oh but he did." Your eyes narrowed. Billy's demeanor darken, he aggressively kissed you trying to reclaim you. You squirmed pushing him back, "You asshole." You whispered.

"Watch it. All I have to do is tell Randy how much of a bad girl you are and it's over." He said with a sly smile. Your eyes drooped before you nodded.

"Watch your damn tone too. Before I fuck it out of you." He left the closet slamming the door. You stood in the dark waiting to leave.

Once you felt confident enough to leave you walked into the hall. You went to your history class a couple minutes late.

"Glad you could join us." Your teacher sighed before continuing. You sat behind Randy, he turned around.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, Billy's being a dick so watch out."

He nodded turning his attention towards the board.you would sometimes mess with his hair or shirt. You tried to distract yourself from the growing guilt in your stomach.

[claudethecrabdemoness]

Bad lil Biddy

smokin the regulars

[buckyseddie]

unexpected date gone right

pairings — montgomery de la cruz x fem!baker!reader, featuring bff!tyler down x bff!fem!baker!reader

summary — in which, she lets monty take her out on a date to stop the constant harassment she endures from him.

word count — 1.9k.

warnings — jealous!monty, angst, mentions of hannah’s death and how reader feels about it, fluff.

notes — i just want to make two things very clear. i wanna clarify i wrote this fic BEFORE i found out that monty was gay. i’m only leaving it up because people wanted it to stay up. and secondly, i, in no way, support what monty did to tyler. that was completely wrong, and i have certain morals, so i don’t excuse his actions. however, i do have a soft spot for villains, and i feel that he, sort of, redeemed himself a little bit. and i also feel that if he hadn’t been killed off, prison would’ve taught him a lot, and maybe have redeemed himself. so, i just wanted to make that clear. and, p.s., in this imagine, monty never did any of the tramatizing things, like what he did to tyler. gif and divider creds to owner!

p.s., feedback is very much encouraged and appreciated <3.

main masterlist

“THANK YOU, TY. I’LL TALK to you later, buddy!” she exclaims with a bright smile as tyler hands her the previously fallen textbooks.

“of course.” he says, before pausing, causing her to turn around with a questioning stare.

“um, i wanted to th—thank you.” he stutters out, wearing an uncomfortable expression.

“thank me for what?” she asks, tilting her head to the side in confusion.

“for always being so nice to me… and for being my friend. i know that you know how i acted towards hannah before. but, unlike everyone else, you didn’t judge me on that and i really appreciate it.” he admits, wearing a shy smile.

“aw, of course, ty! you’re so much more than your past. you’re a great guy, and i know that people will realize that one day.” [y/n] says, before pulling him in for a comforting hug.

“thank you — for everything.” he mumbles into her hair, finally hugging her back.

as he hugs onto her for a few more seconds, he feels confused and uncomfortable, considering he’s never had someone genuinely care about him or hug him like this, other than his family.

“hey, get away from her, stalker!” a snarky voice abruptly yells, causing [y/n] to slowly pull away from her friend, trying to find the person with the very familiar voice.

“what, was hannah not enough? you gotta move onto another poor, innocent girl?” monty exclaims, eyes almost blazing in jealousy.

“i was just—” tyler starts, but monty interrupts him. “—no. you leave her alone, freak.” he says, pushing the poor kid against the lockers.

“montgomery! leave him alone. tyler is my friend. leave him the fuck alone, asshat.” [y/n] exclaims, clenching her fists to keep her anger at bay.

“but, he—” he starts, but she swiftly pushes his fists off of tyler’s shirt — this isn’t very hard, considering the second her hands touch his, he instantly lets go of tyler.

“no. he’s one of my best friends. and if anything, he’s like my brother. so, if you go as far as even looking in his direction, you’ll have me to deal with.” she spits out, grabbing tyler’s arm and pulling him behind her.

“tyler, go to class. i’ll see you later, alright?” she orders, turning to him as he nods.

he turns around and rushes down the hall.

“what the hell is your problem? could you be any more of a stereotypical, cliché, entitled jock-asshat?” she asks incredulously, turning to him and practically glaring in his direction.

“you know what? honestly, why should i be shocked? you’re friends with fucking bryce, after all.” she mumbles, rolling her eyes as she walks down the hall, hoping the boy will just leave her alone for once.

but, of course, he doesn’t leave her be.

i mean, why would he? he has been bothering and annoying the girl for months now.

why? [y/n] has no clue.

but, that’s probably just because she’s super clueless.

“hey! just because i’m friends with bryce doesn’t mean i’m anything like him.” he exclaims, falling into step beside her.

“yeah, okay. why else would you be following me around, and annoying the shit out of me? it’s kind of obvious that you either want to piss me off, or get into my pants — and neither will be happening, anytime soon.” she states, stopping finally, and turning towards him, crossing her arms across her chest.

she raises her eyebrows in question, challenging him to tell her she’s wrong.

he sighs, anxiously fidgeting with his fingers — something that’s very unlike monty.

“spit it out already! i have a very important class to get to, and i really don’t have time for your shit today.” she groans, rolling her eyes at his sudden shyness.

“i like you, alright!?” he exclaims as she gapes in shock, not expecting him to stoop so low, to play this type of game to manipulate her.

but, the problem is, he isn’t lying. far from it, actually.

“w—what?” [y/n] asks, throat tightening up.

groaning, he shuts his mouth completely, so frustrated that he admitted what he’s been hiding for months.

“well? are you going to explain why you think pretending to like me is gonna work out with your plan to get into my pants?” she asks, glaring at him.

she couldn’t explain why, but for some reason, she didn’t like that he was using the crush tactic as a way to get under her skin, and to get what he wants.

the real question she doesn’t have an answer to is, why does this affect her so much? why does she care?

“y—you think i’m pretending to like you? why the hell would i do that? are you really that judge-mental that you think you know who i am just because i’m friends with someone who’s terrible? zach’s friends with bryce, but he’s nothing like him — the same with scott!” he exclaims, finally unmasking his hurt expression.

[y/n] sighs, mentally smacking herself for how mean she was seconds ago.

sure, monty’s not the definition of an angel, but deep down, she knows that he’s not a totally terrible guy.

and he is right.

she doesn’t know him at all — she just knows the side he shows her, which probably is just a ploy to distract everyone from seeing who he really is.

and being judge-mental is never the answer, which deep down, she knows.

she just couldn’t help it with him, she wanted to hurt him for being so rude to tyler.

“look. i’m sorry, monty. i don’t know you, so i can’t assume you’re like bryce. but, can you really blame me? you portray yourself exactly like him, so i can’t help but believe that. and how is it that one of the boys that tormented my best friend for an entire year — until it drove her to kill herself — could ever like me? i can’t help but think it’s just a joke. and not to mention, you always joke around about getting into my pants.” she admits, sighing as she drags her fingers through her now tangled hair.

“i get that and you have every right to believe that. but, i would never lie about my feelings — especially, towards you. my sister has had her fair share of getting hurt and played by guys and i’ve promised her i’d never do what others did to her to another girl. it’s heartless and disgusting to hurt a girl that way when all she does is care for you.” he admits, looking anywhere but her eyes, his anxiety becoming clear as ever.

“okay.” she sighs, looking up at him expectantly.

“okay?” he asks, slightly confused at what she means.

“i believe you. i know your sister and as much as i hate admitting this, i know you’re a good brother to her by the way she talks about you. so, that has to mean you’re at least not completely terrible. so, meet me at rosie’s at seven, alright?” she states as he nods, eyes sparking in utter excitement, before she turns and walks down the hall.

—————

SHE REALLY DIDN’T UNDERSTAND WHY she told monty to meet her at rosie’s.

maybe, she was desperate for attention because guys never ever take her seriously.

or maybe she liked the antsy, nervous side of montgomery that she saw earlier in the day.

so, that’s why she found herself standing in front of her gigantic mirror inside her bedroom, wearing a cute, but casual outfit.

she wears an ocean blue cropped tank top with a jean jacket and a pair of light-wash skinny jeans. her hair sits down on her shoulders with small, innocent curls. and her makeup is natural; just some mascara and chapstick.

the whole point of her appearance that night, was to show monty that she isn’t going to change anything about herself, only for a guy.

when she does leave her house and arrive at rosie’s, monty is already sitting down at a table, tapping his fingers on the table anxiously.

“wow, you’re on time for once.” she states jokingly, trying to break how uncomfortable the silence is between the two of them as she sits down across from him.

“you know, this is the exact same place marcus harassed hannah. i’m not sure why i’d ask you to meet me at a place with such a bad memory…” she trails off, taking in a deep breath as she plays with her fidgety fingers on the table.

“i’m really sorry about that. a lot of the guys thought she was easy and marcus thought he could get her easily. he was a real dick that night.” he says, hesitantly landing his hands on top of hers, squeezing lightly.

[y/n] jumps in shock at the touch at first.

but, after a few more seconds, she relaxes, not being able to deny the comfort montgomery’s touch brings her.

“can i ask you a question?” she asks, looking at him this time.

“sure. what is it?” he asks, his nerves slowly unraveling as he lifts up one of his hands to run through his hair.

“why me?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowing, oddly becoming scared of the answer she will receive.

“what do you mean?” he asks confusedly.

“why do you like me? what’s so great about me that makes you like me? i can tell you right now, i’m not very interesting.” she admits.

“why do i like you? i like you, because you’re a good person, inside and out. you will do whatever you have to, to take care of your friends — to protect them. you never let anyone boss you around, or tell you what and who you are. and despite everything you’ve been through, you’re so kind and nice to everyone. you’re loyal and caring and you always put everyone’s lives and happiness above yours.” he says, sighing.

[y/n]’s quite shocked that he even knows any of that about her.

she tries to look for just one lying bone on him, but she comes up with none.

“h—how did you even know all that?” she asks, still shocked.

“i’m good at observing people and you’re an open book. you try to hide your real feelings, but it’s useless because you’re so simple to read.” he states, blushing a mad red color.

“o—oh…” she trails off, blushing hard, making her duck her head down, so that her hair covers her flaming cheeks.

“n—no one ever notices me… that’s why i was so convinced that you saying you liked me, was just a lie.” she mumbles, looking back up at him.

monty’s eyes widen in shock. “that’s not true. [y/n], everyone notices you.” he states, brows furrowing in confusion.

but, this little statement means little to nothing to her, considering everyone else never mattered to her.

she’d just wanted one person to notice her — at least, that is, before she saw how mean he was to others.

she finds herself becoming more comfortable around him and they began to talk about anything they could; things like her dealing with her sister’s death and the guilt that came with it, or monty’s issues at home with his father’s abusive behavior.

hours had passed by and soon enough, monty was walking [y/n] to her front door.

“i had a great time. maybe… we do it again, sometime?” she asks, leaning against the door.

“y—yeah, i’d like that.” he agrees, nodding as she lifts her body up off of the door and turns to turn the doorknob.

she pushes the door open and as soon as she’s in, she turns to the unbelievably, genuinely happy boy.

“okay, um,” she pauses, biting her bottom lip to hide her excited smile. “i’ll, uh, see you tomorrow at school, kay?” she asks as he nods.

“bye.” she gives a cute little wave, a few giggles leaving her lips, before she shuts the door.

although, she doesn’t see the genuinely soft and excited grin on the de la cruz boy’s face.

[mrsnegan]

hey beautiful! loving all your writing! and was wondering if you’d do a request with the reader having Negan as her neighbor and he gets jealous when her guy friend comes over instead of him

[Hi there! So, so sorry it took me this long to write your request. But here it finally is, another smut fest, I just can't help myself. 😅]

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, rough sex, jealousy, oral sex (f receiving), bodily fluids, squirting, aftercare

Moving into a new neighborhood always felt weird. Getting used to a new surrounding, meeting neighbors and hoping they would be kind of alright was a pain in your ass. You hated those situations. But meeting Negan, your neighbor of two years by now, was the most cool thing ever. He was a real sweetheart with a sailor's mouth, ready to help whenever there was a problem, ready to party whenever there was an invitation. Even if he was eye candy as well, a real flirt at times, you didn't consider him as an option, more as a friend, a life long partner in crime.

Negan, on the other hand and unbeknownst to you, did definitely have interest in more than harmless teasing. He liked you - a lot. Though he would never pressure you into anything, would never make a move without any signal from your side, because he cherished your friendship as much as you did and respected the hell out of you. Little did he know that a mysterious male guest of yours would shake up his whole resolution, unleashing something primal and urging inside of him.

---

You stood in front of the oven, the lasagna smelling delicious and nearly ready to eat. Paul, your friend from work, would ring at any minute. He was a nice guy, helping you out with a big project. In return, you invited him for dinner to thank him for all the effort. This wasn't a date though, Paul was gay 100 percent, the coolest dude in your opinion. He dated an Italian barkeeper who was at work right now, so it would only be the two of you. Either way, you looked forward to a chatty evening with good food, lots of wine and laughter.

Your doorbell rang some moments later and you opened it with a bright smile.

"Hi Paul, come in!"

"Hi there! Thank you so much for the invitation, Y/N!" he beamed, handing you two bottles of wine.

The two of you entered your kitchen, preparing the rest of the dinner together. It was such a relaxing atmosphere, you had missed nights like this.

The lasagna tasted as delicious as it smelled and the first bottle of wine was empty much sooner than you thought. Paul and you talked about work, life, love and everything in between. You felt at ease, happy to the core. The second bottle was opened a few moments later and both of you decided to enjoy the nice weather in your little garden.

"Hey, who's this?" Paul asked, head pointing towards Negan's property. You could see him standing on his terrace, looking straight at the both of you.

"My neighbor and friend Negan", you answered and waved with a big smile. To your surprise, he just looked straight ahead, turning on his heels to get inside.

"What the fuck was that?" you asked perplexed.

"Uh, honey, sorry to break the news, but he seemed to be severely pissed about your male company."

"Huh? That's...why should he?"

Paul looked at me with his eyebrow raised, his glass of wine still in his hand.

"He's some nice piece of ass, at least from what I could make out. And honey, let me tell you, he's jealous because I'm enjoying your presence, not him. He's definitely hot for you."

You laughed loudly at his explanation, shaking your head in disbelief.

"No, he isn't. We're just friends."

"Y/N, for real, I know how a jealous man looks and he definitely wants you all to himself. I'd suggest you get your beautiful ass over there and get banged real good. Because jealous men are such a turn-on and won't keep their hands off of you."

Despite knowing Paul for a long time, you clasped your hand over your mouth.

"He's my friend..."

"So you keep saying. What's wrong about friends with benefits? You absolutely deserve a good time. And he looks like a real snack", he winked, drowning his wine and getting up.

"Besides, I need to get home, it's late. I will get myself an Uber. Don't you worry your pretty little head, just get over there for your dessert."

You said goodbye at your front door half an hour later. While you watched Paul drive away, your heart kept beating faster and faster. Your feet carried you to your kitchen where you drowned another glass of wine. Was it possible what Paul had said? Was Negan jealous? Deep within you there definitely was a spark you felt, a pull towards Negan. He was handsome and funny, that much was true, though before Paul's suggestion you hadn't seen Negan in this kind of light. And since it had been spoken out, you couldn't stop thinking about what his lips might taste on you, what he might feel pressed between your legs.

You gulped audibly, not believing your own thoughts. Blaming the wine for your inappropriate thoughts seemed too easy, but admitting you were attracted to your neighbor was too difficult too. Sighing, you pulled your cardigan over your shoulders, grabbed your keys and went to his front door. The wine gave you the much needed confidence to do so, but your heart hammered in your chest nonetheless. What if you would destroy your friendship with this stupid little action? What if Paul was wrong? But you had to take the risk or you wouldn't sleep at all at night, laying awake with the punishing thoughts of what if.

The door bell rang in your ear louder than you remembered. Your palms were sweaty, so you tried to anchor yourself on your cardigan, hugging yourself tightly.

When Negan opened the door, he looked pissed to say the least.

"Hey", you said timidly.

"Hey", he answered without the warmth in his voice you were used to.

"Can I come in?"

"Why would you want to? You do have company, don't you?"

With a dry mouth you shook your head. "He went home."

"Asshat", he mumbled and you raised a brow.

"Negan, we need to talk."

"About what? I think it's more than fucking clear. Have a good night", he said, motioning to close the door in front of you, but you pushed yourself against it.

"He's gay", you told him, letting him stop in his tracks.

"What?"

"Paul, my visitor. He's gay. He's one of my colleagues and a good friend. This was a thank you dinner because he helped me out at work", you explained even if you didn't have to.

Negan pinched the bridge of his nose, opening the door wider, so you could slip inside.

Both of you stood awkwardly in front of each other, just staring at your shoes.

"Look, Paul said you would be...jealous. Are you?"

You heard Negan huff before you risked a look into his face. He looked troubled, as if he calculated the pros and cons of his next words.

"Fucking shit, Y/N, yeah, I'm jealous. You satisfied now?"

"No", you answered truthfully, risking everything with your next move. You closed the distance between the both of you, getting on your tiptoes to press a fleeting kiss against his lips. You pulled back as fast as you had kissed him, adrenaline driving through your veins.

Negan's growl surprised you, he was on you in an instant, pressing you against his door, his lips colliding with yours. The heat radiating from your bodies made you feel dizzy, his hands held your face tightly while he devoured your mouth with passion. He deepened the kiss as his body pressed itself against you, grinding where you ached the most. Your hands grabbed his strong frame for support, the moan into his mouth made him stop, pulling away a bit to catch his breath and also look into your eyes.

"Damn, baby, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this."

The groan leaving your lips spurred him on, moving his center against your trembling body in a nice rhythm.

"Shit, I...I had no idea."

"You surely didn't. Such a sweet, innocent girl. You wanna continue?"

He stopped all at once, earning a desperate whine from you.

"Y-yes, please Negan."

That damn grin of his made your knees buckle. He was so hot and he clearly wanted you. Thanking Paul silently for speaking his mind and Negan for his jealousy, you made the next step by pushing his shirt up, revealing his lean stomach to your hungry eyes.

He just smirked down at you, helping you out by pulling his shirt over his head. You admired his tattoos for a while, tracing them lightly with your fingers. He caught your hands in his, kissing your fingertips before he let go to slip your cardigan over your shoulders before he open button after button of your silky blouse, revealing more and more skin as well as your bra.

"Hot damn", he mumbled when he had freed you from your blouse, starring blatantly at your cleavage.

"I wanna worship every part of that hot body before I fuck you senseless."

Moaning at the prospect of getting laid by Negan, your hands found a home on his chest again.

"You...you don't need to be...you know...gentle with me, at least not this time." You bit your lip at your own forwardness. This was definitely the wine speaking. Your panties were wet the minute he had attacked your mouth and edging was the last thing you needed right now.

"Oh baby, you're full of surprises. The next time, huh? You sure?" Negan played with one of your locks, scanning your face for any second thoughts.

"Yes", you whispered.

He was on you in an instant, his hands on your ass, pushing you against him before he lifted you off the ground to carry you to the living room.

He sat you down on his dining table where the cold wooden surface made you gasp.

"I would carry you into the bedroom...but I think that's something for the next time", he winked, pushing up your skirt and slipping off your shoes. "I need to have a taste right now."

He surprised you yet again by dropping to his knees. Your panties, soaked as they were, were gone in an instant and his impatient mouth closed around your center.

You jumped at the sudden pleasure, too much too soon. Your hands wandered into his hair, desperate to push him away and to keep him there at the same time. The moans leaving your lips sounded like they were coming from someone else. He ate you out with passion, the slurping sounds so foreign to your ears that you turned a light shade of red. But he seemed to enjoy himself, biting down gently on your clit.

"Whose pussy is this?" he asked against your wet flesh, his breath on your lower lips driving you insane. You couldn't form a sentence, earning a light slap against your inner thigh.

"I asked you a question, baby. Whose pussy is this?"

"Y-yours", you moaned, you answer accompanied by his fingers rubbing over your folds.

"Yeah, that's right, mine alone", he mused, closing his lips around your clit again while two of his fingers entered your slick channel. He fucked into you with precision, driving you to your breaking point in no time. You came against his mouth and around his fingers screaming his name.

"So beautiful. Better than I could have ever imagined", he mused, looking up at your face. "I could do that all night. But you didn't ask for gentle, did you?"

There were no words with which you could respond, your orgasm had made you feel like jelly, absolutely unable to do anything than breathe.

You heard Negan's belt come undone and the zipper of his jeans. With the little strength you had left, you lifted your head to look at him. The sight you were greeted with drove another moan out of your mouth. Negan stood in front of you, cock in hand, stroking it languidly while his gaze was fixed on your wet center.

"You like what you see?", he asked, smiling warmly with a hint of mischief in it.

"Yes", you whimpered.

He came nearer, pushing the head of his cock between your soaked pussy lips.

"Fuck...", you uttered, over-sensitive but so damn horny for him nonetheless, despite the earth-shattering orgasm he had gifted you with.

"Patience, baby. Gonna fuck you so good, don't you worry", he mused, concentrating his movements on your clit. You jerked under him, the pleasure rapidly building and as he rubbed himself harder against you, you came again.

"Shit, would you look at that? You like my cock that damn much, don't you?"

As hot as his dirty mouth was, you wanted to feel him, finally. So you pushed your arms up and around his head to pull him down for a longing kiss. Just as his tongue sloppily played with yours, he entered you in one swift motion, setting a fast pace from the beginning.

The moans and groans you shared echoed through his house, the wood underneath you creaked with every movement. This was precisely what you had asked for, a good, hard, passionate fuck, something primal to get rid of all the tension. He fucked you harder still, looking down at you with furrowed brows. His right hand pulled your bra down to bare your bouncing breasts to his heated gaze while you tried to anchor yourself underneath his punishing thrusts. You hadn't been fucked like this in a long, long time, nearly forgetting how much you liked to be taken, to be claimed. And Negan was just perfect at fulfilling your fantasies, his cock feeling incredible.

"Baby...", he purred when he watched you play with your nipples, throwing your head back in the process.

There was something building inside of you again, much stronger than before. Your moans got louder in the process.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't...", you chanted repeatedly, while Negan fucked you hard, his hand coming down between your legs to flick your clit roughly with his thumb. The walls came crashing down for you, your orgasm roared through your body, wave after wave of pure bliss, so much so that Negan had to pull out to make room for you to squirt all over his cock.

He practically roared at the sight in front of him, jerking himself off furiously and shooting his load against your sodden pussy.

Both of you panted heavily while coming down from such an exquisite high. After a while, Negan helped you out of your skirt and bra which were still dangling on your sweaty body and carried you upstairs to the shower. Underneath his big shower head, you pulled him against you, still with shaking legs, but happy, so damn happy.

"Thank you for being jealous", you said giggling against his strong frame.

"No worries, baby, I still am. You're mine now."

You laughed at his comment, even if you knew he was honest with his statement. The kiss that followed was sweet, a nice contrast to your rough coupling some minutes ago.

"But honestly, I would love to invite you for dinner, have a proper date if you would like to", Negan suggested, his hands drawing lazy circles on your back.

"I would absolutely love to", you answered, peppering his chest with light kisses.

---

Taglist: @iluvneganandjamie @murphslass @negans-attagirl @you-a-southpaw-doll

[teklarn]

hi, this is my first ever ask so I'm not sure I'm doing this correctly, if that's the case I'm sorry; I don't know how tumblr works just yet >:')

would it be possible for you to write something about bakugo, pining incredibly hard for fem!reader and initially hating how strongly he feels about her? because they're not even friends, they only exchange few words occasionally and she doesn't even glance at his way whereas he slowly finds himself unable to divert his eyes from her during classes? shes always with damn deku and his friends and doesn't even seem interested in him at all but his heart can't ignore the way she looks at him proudly whenever they spar together, the way she sends him small confident smiles as they fight each other with all they have; so he thinks that maybe, maybe he might have a chance. basically bakugo liking reader so much he's completely lost in self-hatred because he always thought feelings were for weak romantics and not great people like him, but everytime he sees reader doing some badass things (again, like sparring with him and basically matching his skills etc...) he's reminded of how badly he likes reader? but when he finally accepts he's fallen for reader, after ignoring and trying to forget about how she makes him feel, he masters up the courage to confess? and it's a very clumsy confession because he's awkward and has no idea how to deal with those feelings? and he tries so hard to make reader realise he's never been more serious than now? and reader is startled and speechless before rejecting him? and at that point he's just completely humiliated, so he nods and walks away.

it might be a little dramatic but I've always been into unrequited love and one-sided pining. thank you, its okay if you don't want to write about this, i'll understand <33

𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾

character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader (my hero academia) 

reblogs are greatly appreciated! 

a/n: AHHHHH this is so cute <33 honestly this is super exciting for me and this ask made me so happy, lovey. i’m fairly new to tumblr, i’m usually just a reader but i wanted to migrate here from wattpad so this made me so happy. here u are my love <33 i hope this lives up to what u wanted !! :)) a bit lengthy, but i had a lot of fun writing it !!! 

summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you. 

genre: fluffy, fluffier than the clouds istg, however the clouds are sprinking a little teeny weeny droplet of angst. 

warnings: cursing (bakugou, duhh), one-sided pining (on bakugou’s part) second hand embarrassment (on bakugou’s part bc we can all agree he’s a complete idiot when it comes to trying to get someone’s attention), just bakugou being a jackass, i gave the reader a quirk 

word count: 3,859 

(pls excuse any typos or mistakes, i edited to the best of my ability but i miss some things sometimes !) 

- - - 

part 2 is here my loves <3

brutal. it was utterly ruthless. he couldn’t focus, couldn’t think right. his hands were already exceptionally sweaty, but gosh when he saw your damn face, he was ready to explode. literally. 

what the hell was it about you? was it your stupid smile? or the way you just seemed to carry every battle on your back? was it all the undeniably sweet things you do for others ‘just because’? 

it made him angry that he thought about you, but gosh he couldn’t wait to see you every day. 

just like any other day, bakugou found himself staring at the large door to the classroom, awaiting the moment you would bounce into his day, skirt shifting around your legs, bag slung loosely around your shoulders. 

his leg was bouncing eagerly. 

bakugou didn’t know when the feelings came. his cheeks just started flaring up all of a sudden and one day you just looked...different. you hadn’t done anything different to yourself. it was just him. not that he would ever admit that, to you or anybody else. 

you were insufferable. you were stupid and obnoxious and so...so damn... 

“y/n! come look at this!” 

you’d come walking into class just as expected, and as soon as you did, that stupid nerd had called you over. 

it didn’t help that deku sat right behind him, either. the two of you had recently gotten closer. bakugou noticed it last month when he yelled at the two of you to shut up about all might and get to work. he’d turned around to find you leaning over deku, hands resting on his shoulders while you peered at his phone. 

“sorry, bakugou,” you’d said, barely acknowledging him. you had waved him off like an annoying fly. is that all you were to him? some nuisance that got in the way of your oh-so-entertaining conversations with deku? 

all he heard nearly every day was your chipper voice talking to deku. always, “oh my gosh, midoriya, did you see the fight edgeshot was in last night?” or “midoriya! i have something to add to our quirk analysis book!” 

that was the one that took the cake. you two dorks shared a notebook, occasionally passed between one another, and filled it with junk about quirks and pro heroes. but no matter how much he tried to tune you out, no matter how he tried to zone off and think about something else, you were always there. it made him want to vomit how much he thought about you. 

you were doing an adorable shuffle over to midoriya’s desk and leaned over the table as you usually did while he angled his phone your way. “did you see this hero report?” 

deku let you slip the phone out of his grasp to get a better look. 

“no,” you breathed. “was this just recent?” 

“yeah,” deku said, taking the phone back. “last night.” 

“holy—” 

“can you guys shut up over there?” bakugou said, his voice quaking. 

“sorry, kacchan.” deku scrolled through the article. 

dammit, bakugou thought. “i wasn’t talking to you, nerd. i was talking to shitface over here.” he jerked his head towards you. his eyes flared in anger when he saw you were looking down at your phone, now focused in on the article yourself. “i was talking to you, asshat!” 

your eyes flicked up to his. you looked around for a moment before slowly pointing to yourself as if to say, “me?” 

his face scrunched. “yeah, you. you’re so damn loud.” gosh, he hated how his voice was cracking, how he could feel his ears and cheeks lighting up in a swollen, cherry red. his stomach flipped. 

she’s looking at you, gosh i’m sweating. i’m going to throw up. she’s so gorgeous. what the hell? they’re ugly as shit, i don’t think anything of them. 

his eyes bore into yours. 

“did you...need something?” 

your voice broke his trance. 

“kacchan, are you okay? you dozed off there for a second. you look like you’re burning up.” 

bakugou looked to deku who was currently stretching out of his seat, arm extended. he pressed the back of his hand to bakugou’s forehead. “you’re really warm, kacchan. should we call recovery girl?” 

it took him a moment to realize what was happening. his vision got blurry every time he was with you. bakugou smacked deku’s hand away. “i’m fine!” his voice lifted at the end, cracking. “i’m not sick. don’t you think i’d take better care of myself?” 

“i don’t doubt you take good care of yourself, kacchan, but everyone gets sick once in a while. there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

“i never get sick!” besides, if i got sick, i wouldn’t want you to be the one taking care of me. 

he was still pissed. he was always in a bad mood, however, more so right now because you’d gone straight back to your phone and that stupid hero article that was supposedly so damn interesting. 

soon enough, the bell rang, and you were seated at your desk. it was jirou’s old spot, however, after much convincing, you two had switched spots so you could be closer to deku. just a few months of getting close to the idiot and you two are suddenly best friends. jirou hadn’t minded one tiny bit, claiming she needed a break from how loud that section of the room was. 

late as always, aizawa came trudging into your room. thankfully, his entire body wasn’t obscured by a yellow sleeping bag that smelled of something unwashed and coffee and gasoline. (for some reason, aizawa’s clothes always smelled of it.) 

“lucky for you,” he began while shuffling papers on his desk, “all of you are doing training for these first periods.”

the class cheered in perfect unison, followed by their individual chatter. you had erupted with glee along with them, and bakugou was sure he felt his heart clench and then explode. just a tiny bit. but he shoved the feeling down just as quickly as it had come up. 

“go out to the field and wait for further instructions. don’t make a sound in the halls otherwise, i’ll expel all of you.” 

this shut everyone up in almost a second, the sound draining out just as water does. the first years trailed out into the hall, single-file mimicking the positions baby ducklings would take when following their mother. 

bakugou found himself walking faster when he saw you take up your spot in the line, hoping to land his spot right behind you. 

unfortunately, this idiot who considered himself bakugou’s friend tugged him back. “bakugou!” a familiar voice rasped. 

“shitty hair, let go of me.” 

“hey man, chill out. wanna partner up if we’re doing training in pairs?” 

bakugou glanced at the line, the spot that should have been reserved for him now taken up by sato. 

bakugou tugged his sleeve from kirishima’s hand. “whatever,” he snapped. 

“sounds good!” kirishima flashed him a toothy grin and a thumbs-up. the bubbly feeling in bakugou’s chest died down as he stood behind sato, the overwhelming scent of sugar filling his nose, various candies that would go straight to your arteries. 

“you smell like ass, damn,” bakugou remarked, squeezing his nostrils together. 

luckily, sato was tall enough to not hear the insult, as he towered over bakugou by just another head. the line began moving like a sloppy train down to the change rooms. 

bakugou scoffed as he listened to your giggle. he should be making you laugh. 

- 

“you’ll be given partners randomly from this box.” aizawa held up a familiar red box. “inside are all your names. i’ll select one, then that person will come up and pick another name from the box. that will be your assigned partner for today. as soon as you have your assigned partner, i want you guys to get straight to work.” 

denki raised a hand, speaking before being called on. “sensei, why are we getting random partners? we’re always allowed to choose.” 

“in the real world, you’re going to come across different villains every day. you’ll never improve your skills or your quirks if you keep fighting the same person.” 

denki sighed, slumping back. 

dammit, bakugou thought, gritting his teeth together. there wasn’t any way he wanted to be partners with you. it’s obvious he’d win the fight in the first few seconds. 

yes! exactly right! bakugou internally grinned. his fluctuating feelings had finally soothed themselves. you were just another extra, and he had no room for you in his head. 

aizawa took a moment to fiddle with the slips of paper inside the box. soon enough, he pulled out a name. “todoroki.” 

todoroki walked up, digging his hand into the box when aizawa held it out for him. he pulled out a name, delicately unraveling the slip. “uraraka, you’re my partner.” he deadpanned. 

the brunette grinned. “great!” 

the two found their own spot on the field, and the class’s attention was once again diverted to their grouchy teacher as he pulled out another name. 

“bakugou.” 

bakugou strutted up without a worry in his mind. he pulled a name to find... 

“y/n,” he said, voice a low growl. instead of the annoying fluttering in his chest, his eyes met yours, and they were filled with a different, new ferocity. he crumpled the paper in one hand, letting it twirl to the ground. 

you looked at him, unsmiling. your eyes gave away nothing, and to bakugou’s knowledge, all you saw in him was another opponent. 

it took him a moment to realize you had both locked eyes for about a minute. perhaps the two of you would have stayed as you were if aizawa hadn’t snapped at the two of you to get moving as yaomomo’s name was called. 

bakugou was on his way to the back of the field, you followed close behind. while there was plenty of room still, he chose a secluded area. while it was still open enough to view everything going on so nobody got hurt, it was often nobody chose to train here. for whatever reason, you weren’t sure. 

“wait up, bakugou,” you said. after a bit, you caught up to him. 

“if you can’t keep up, then...” then what? he looked at you from the side of his eye. “then don’t keep up...” gosh, here came the embarrassing, disgusting feeling of redness in his cheeks. 

you laughed. “what?” 

“shut up.” 

“you’re an idiot, bakugou.” 

“i said shut the hell up!”

“what, so you can call me shitface in front of the entire class but you get all pissed when i call you an idiot?” 

so you had heard him! 

he tongued his cheek, curling his hands around an invisible ball, explosions sparking in the centers of his palms. “don’t expect me to hold back, dumbass.” 

“i wouldn’t dream of it.” 

gosh he loved that about you. 

bakugou caught his thought in the air. 

ahem...gosh he hated that about you. 

you both charged in at the same time. his cry was louder than yours, but you struck first. 

he admired your quirk. while he’d overhead you explaining all the drawbacks it had, it was strong, and you were strong because you knew how to control it. 

purple arrows flew from your arms, going in your desired directions. if you lost focus for one moment, they’d vanish and weaken. if you focused too hard or long, you’d be plagued by a splitting headache. 

he’d spent too much time obsessing over your strengths and weaknesses.  

your arrows were weightless, however they were solid objects capable of carrying any mass, any thing, and worked as extensions of your body. 

the violet arrow had shot out at him, twisting around his right gauntlet and crushing inwards. it’d snaked around him without him noticing, slithering along his back. 

bakugou struggled to get the air-light arrow off his wrist, but it was no use. he glared back, only to see your focused, furrowed brows. he’d expected to see your cocky ass smiling. it was nice to see you weren’t. 

that was one thing that had also caught his eye. you never underestimate your opponent, but you never underestimate yourself, either. 

you conjured a larger arrow. it snaked around your right arm as you hurled bakugou into the air, releasing your grasp on him. you shot your other arrow into the air, and it raced into the sky. 

it swerved. bakugou’s eyes went wide as the tip of the arrow came down on his chest. if they weren’t intangible things, he would have been bleeding out. 

another drawback: the arrows, while they could solidify, they couldn’t do any actual damage. you had to use your surroundings to inflict harm on your opponent. 

he coughed out as the arrow shot him into the ground. he hadn’t even touched you, and here he was, vulnerable and so...so... 

you stood over him, hands on your hips. 

vulnerable and so lost in that adorable, winning smile. 

“get away from me, idiot,” he grunted and turned onto his side, his back crying out in pain. 

“i think i won this fight, bakugou,” you chirped, rocking on your heels. 

“don’t get arrogant, shithead. you won’t be winning against me anymore.” 

you grinned, arrows shooting out behind your back. 

- 

the dorms were exceptionally quiet. you were typing away in the common room, bakugou on the couch reading. everyone was off doing something else. it was the weekend, luckily. he’d expected you to go bounding out with everyone else, however you’d stayed back, claiming you had some homework to catch up on. 

bakugou being classic bakugou had stayed back. he was excited to have the dorm to himself, but your dumbass was stuck here with him. couldn’t you have done your typing in your room? 

you were so aggressive on that poor keyboard. 

“oi, quiet down with your shit typing.” 

you barely grunted in response. 

“don’t ignore me.” 

“i heard you, mom.” 

“the hell did you call me?” 

no response. only your aggressive typing is a bit less aggressive. 

“i can still hear it,” bakugou remarked, eyes fixed on your back. 

“‘kay,” you said. your typing slowed a tad, and your pressure on the keys lessened. 

it was quiet now. bakugou should go back to his book. he shouldn’t still be looking for a reason to talk to you. 

the pages crinkled in his fingers. he bit his tongue, keeping his snarky comments in. 

“you’re a fucking idiot, you know that? doing your damn homework. it’s due tomorrow.” 

you turned, pursing your lips. “and how would you know what i’m working on? are you stalking me?” 

“i- what? no. you’re such an idiot, of course i’m not—” 

“i’m messing with you,” you breathed, face un-moving. 

“o-oh,” bakugou stuttered out. he blinked awkwardly. 

“gosh, what’s gotten your panties in a twist?” 

“you’re annoying.” 

“you’re a jackass.” you returned to your work. bakugou settled with reading in his room. reading consisted of jumping onto his bed just as the stereotypical high school girl would in an eighties movie. he buried his face in his pillow, face burning bright red. he cursed you for making him feel this way, and hated himself even more for how much he enjoyed it. 

- 

the next day came swiftly. you’d left early to go train with midoriya. there were many improvements needed to be made, but you weren’t doing too bad.

you propelled yourself forwards with an arrow, and your green-haired friend shot back, lightning flickering around his body. 

landing back on the ground, you panted and swiped the sweat from your brow. from the corner of your eye, you could make out both kirishima and bakugou coming to the training grounds. 

bakugou stopped in his tracks, frowning at the sight of you. 

it was evident he hated you a bit more than everyone else. he was always making his annoying comments, he was always snubbing you. you saw no reason to talk to him, so you didn’t. either way, even if you tried, he would still get angry for no reason. 

it’d taken you quite some time to get used to his obnoxious attitude. tuning him out had been the best course of action, in your opinion. 

the way you and midoriya had bonded was through bakugou, in a way. the first day of school, bakugou had snapped at you for tripping over your laces and nearly crashing into him. later that day, midoriya had stepped up and apologized for his old friend’s actions. 

you two had never been too close until now. the recent incidents going on with the league of villains had snagged your attention, and it seemed you were the only person who didn’t mind listening to him ramble on about heroes. 

you were just as passionate and just as dorky, but midoriya could talk your ear off. you never minded, and he always took the hint when you didn’t want to listen. 

you brought your leg up, twirling in the air with ease and watched your heel collide with midoriya’s face. he grunted, stumbling back. 

you were about to charge in again when a hand landed on your shoulder, big and rough. you turned to see bakugou standing behind you, a scowl on his face. 

“fight me again,” he demanded. 

“excuse me?” 

“don’t act like you didn’t hear me.” 

“i’m in the middle of fighting midoriya right now.” 

“so?”

“so if you think that i’m just going to ditch my friend because you want to fight, i won’t.” 

“you’re being stubborn.” 

“i’m being reasonable. back off.” 

“y/n?” midoriya rubbed his jaw—right where you had struck him. “what’s going on?” he jogged up to you and bakugou. 

“he wants to fight me in the middle of our fight. it’s nothing serious. don’t worry about it, midoriya. let’s just ignore him.” 

bakugou made a sound someone would only make if they were choking. “the hell did you just say?” 

“we’re ignoring you!” you waved him off and placed your hand on midoriya’s shoulder, wandering away. 

-

it was new to him, not getting what he wanted. and what he wanted right now was to be around you. again, it wasn’t like he would ever admit that to himself. 

“dude? you good? i thought you went off to fight y/n. i was so ready to cheer you on, dude,” kirishima’s chipper voice piped in. “she’s not fighting with you? why not?” 

“the dumbass was just probably scared of getting her ass beat by me.” 

“dude...that sounds really weird.” 

“whatever, shitty hair. let’s go.” 

- 

the clock ticked. his ears were on fire. again. 

gosh, it was happening again. it was all you. his face scrunched up, his voice would surely crack if someone were to ask him what was wrong. 

bakugou was once again stuffing his face in his pillow, hiding his expression from no one. why did you have to go train with that shitty nerd? why were you always around deku? deku, of all people. what did he have? why was he so great? 

bakugou was a man of many insecurities, but losing to deku? that was possibly his biggest fear. 

perhaps he wasn’t the nicest, or the most soft person out there. bakugou could admit that, at least. but he was smarter than deku. he was stronger and he was better and people liked him more. right? 

what was so...amazing about deku? 

it was often bakugou would find himself obsessing over little, insignificant things such as these. 

you were what he was thinking of most of the time. just yesterday, he’d gotten a test returned. he was expecting an eighty at the lowest, but more so expecting a high ninety. it’d come back exactly sixty percent. 

sixty. percent.

bakugou vividly remembered staring at your face. he also remembered not being able to focus because of it. his grades were dropping because of you. 

you were the only person to be able to do this to him. 

his heart grew quiet, but the pounding of his didn’t cease. he lifted his head. 

“alright, fine,” he said aloud. “you win, y/n. you win.” 

he settled with getting over his feelings the way he’d read them in his collection of romance manga. 

bakugou left his room and knocked on your door. (he was banging on it, but it was his nice way of knocking.) 

you answered, looking around awkwardly. “yes?” 

his hands shook. how was this supposed to go? sure, he’d seen it in romance movies and read it in books but it was always easy to tell whether the guy would get the girl or not. 

in this instance, bakugou was clueless. for once in his life, he was clueless. you stood, tapping your foot with a hand on your hip, waiting expectantly for him to tell you why he was here. 

“um.” he scratched behind his neck. “you uh- i uh...i’m sorry i called you a, um...a shitface.” 

“okay? is that it?” 

what? come on! it was already unlike him to apologize. what else did you want from him? 

“did you...i’ve been thinking, maybe? maybe we could..train together as...friends?”  

“...what?” 

gosh dammit, as friends? 

“whatever, um...the uh...” oh gosh, what did the boys do in all the books he’d read? right! bakugou stretched out his arm, resting his forearm on the door, leaning to the side. 

although he didn’t, really, because like the clumsy jackass he was, bakugou missed completely and nearly toppled to the floor. 

this earned a snicker from you. 

his stomach flipped and churned, and bakugou found himself unable to reach your eyes. “uh, would you maybe..? okay, um. do you want to go on a date with me? you absolute fucking dumbass.” 

your eyes flew wide. “...what?” 

“no, that’s not what i— i mean i didn’t mean the last part. um, i meant the first part. the first two parts. the part where i was asking you if you wanted to go on a date with me and then before that when i said maybe because it’s still a maybe until you say yes. or...or no because that’s an option too.” 

he swallowed. 

you resisted the urge to mock him, just a little bit. “um, bakugou, listen.” 

he leaned closer. “yes?” 

“it’s going to be a no. i’m sorry, but i’m just not interested in you like that.” 

it took him a moment to register everything. his shoulders sagged. gosh that was brutal. 

“oh, alright.” 

“yeah, uh, sorry about that.” you offered him a weak smile, still a bit shocked yourself. he did his best to return it, and when you closed the door, his face was ready to explode. 

it was so damn difficult to deal with these feelings, but maybe it was better this way. knowing where you stood on your end, he knew he wouldn’t miss out on anything. 

perhaps it was alright to admire from afar. things could happen in the future, right? 

right now, he’d just wait. for a long, long time. bakugou pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat. maybe it was alright to not have you right now. perhaps he could better himself for you. just for you. 

[hawks-soup]

A Day with your Friends

A/N: Baby’s first smuttle (and fic) please be gentle. Also this is based off @libiraki​ boys! She is a writing inspiration to me. 

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Degradation, Humiliation, Misogyny, Dubcon/Noncon. 

Pairings: Hawks / Shigaraki / Dabi x Reader

You should have known, really, you should have.. but it never failed to surprise you on how purely disgusting and sick-minded the people you hung around could be. Sure they were villains, murdered people, did petty small and large crimes, everything bad in the sense.. But you’d think being a part of their little gang would give you some relief from their behavior. Treat you with a bit of respect since you were team members ya know? “Pft Awee, c’mon doll we were just joking, don’t get your panties in a fucking twist!” Dabi rasped from across the room, snickers of delight joining his.

How wrong you were, but again, you knew and was used to it by now. 

_______________

“It was just a little pinch doll.. Didn’t mean nothing by it, just having a bit of fun is all. Right Shiggy? Bird boy?” Dabi purred out to you, Hawks comments of agreement following suit and a grunt from the leader himself.

“Oh I’m sure she liked it.. Just too flustered to admit it. Wouldn’t wear such revealing clothes around us if she didn’t want us to touch her.” Came Shigaraki’s low tone, nursing the drink he was given by his two male partners, who’d already finished off theirs.

Now Dabi and Shigaraki were one thing to deal with together. If anything Shiggy dear would roll his eyes and just ignore his burnt partners jabs at teasing you, never caring to give him the satisfaction of knowing they were on good enough terms to help torment you.. But with Hawks joining the team and hanging around the two, it’s like Shiggy was opened to the idea that messing with you was actually pretty fucking fun with the two playing with you. 

So now, he joined in the fun of making nasty remarks and grabbing at you like they did. Pulling at your shirt, tugging your skirt up, pinching any exposed skin.. Really, you wish he’d turn back into the hermit that stared at you every once in a while he once was and leave Dabi to being the only one that preyed on you, cause at least by himself he got bored. Now there were 3 of them on your heels. And whenever you’d complain to Kurogiri - hell even AFO whenever you got the chance - they gave the simple answer of ‘boys will be boys, little one.’ They are dealing with that time in their life ‘no they weren’t, they weren’t fucking teenagers popping boners whenever a girl breathed their way’, and they aren’t doing much harm are they? It’s typical for a guy to pick on the girl he’s attracted to, let them be and just try to deal with it.

“Come on baby bird.. We didn’t mean anything by it, come back to us.. I’ll let you sit on my lap and we can have an exclusive fan meet right here~.” The perverted bird brained male purred. You could hear a whistle after it, and assumed Dabi. Hawks.. Was interesting. Sometimes he came off as that billboard hero and would show some compassion, but flushed it right down the toilet when he got too comfortable. Who would have known he was a gross pervert along with the rest? Making sexual comments and too comfortably rubbing at an exposed skin you could offer. And with the way Dabi egged him on, he started to cross boundaries like smacking at your ass, and on the worst of days, using his feather to pull down your skirt whenever given the chance. You could have sworn you heard a camera shutter, but the bastard was quick enough to put away his phone before you could press him on it. But still, you couldn’t help but keep your rose-colored glasses on to the fact he was your favorite hero.. Or at least your hero crush. While you didn’t like heroes, you had to admit you were like any other girl who saw an attractive guy that could give an award winning smile. A little star-struck you could say.

“Yeah doll, come sit on his lap. Aren’t you a fan? This is a pretty big offer here. Hell, I’ll let you even sit on mine after.” “As if. And if you three are done, I’d like to leave now.”  You made your way out the kitchen to ‘throw away some trash’, but was really an excuse just to get away from them for a moment without them stopping you. You didn’t dare go back over to them though, opting to stand against the doorway of the kitchen that peered into the living rooming where they all sat. They’d pressured you into joining them at Dabi’s place to ‘hang around’ and ‘get to know your favorite hero crush’, and in your naiveness of believing their words of letting you hang around and fan over Hawks - despite your working in partner of villain status - you fell prey to being trapped in the run down apartment with them making sure you didn’t escape.

“What?? Awe com’on we just got here! Don’t run away yet little girl.” Dabi gave a fake pout. “I promise we won’t touch you anymore, feather. Just come back okay?” That charming smile and soft pat to the empty space on the couch between the two of them after. Shigaraki has yet to speak, more so one to get handsy rather than talk the talk like the other two.

“I.. don’t know. Do you guys promise to behave?” “We promise dove, just come back.” “We’ll be good dollface, let’s get back to having fun.” Naive at best, you poor fool.

_______________

Hands all over you, you just knew it would happen but it was your fault really for going back. Your shirt lifted up to expose your chest and skirt way over on across the floor after being carelessly tossed away. 

“You dress like this just to get us to notice you, don’t ya?” Too hot hands rubbing the pebbled nips as you were forced onto his lap, legs spread over his to leave you open for the rest.

“Fuck little bird, you always let them do this to you? And I thought I was special. Guess you are nothing but a common whore for us to play with like they say. You aren’t even in my lap, some fan you are.” Fake disappointment in his tone, but really he was enjoying rubbing at your clothed slit. Trying to wiggle his fingers into the sides of the fabric and get to your petaled flesh. Sitting right beside you both and pressed up as much as he could be. Shigaraki was near your legs - you could tell - breathing hard against your knee as his rough hand smoothed over your leg, the other rubbing your sock covered toes. “She’s nothing but a slut, bet she want’s to fuck her way to the top like the leech harlot she is. She’s always coming into my room, she wants me to do something to her.” He rasped, now licking at your knee with his wet tongue. He was drooling and it started to soak your socks.

“I’m just checking on you like Kurogiri as-a-AH! Stop!” Dabi’s fingers pinched harder, his other now yanking up at your panties to make them wedge into your pussy and between the lips. “Damn ain’t that cute. Bird brain, take a picture for me won’t you?” “Already on it my friend.. Fuck, you have a cute pussy. I can’t wait to use it. I bet you’re fucking tight, even with you being a little whore and all.” Shutters of the camera clicking every few seconds, telling he got a few and at different angles. His free hand spreading at your lips, tugging the tightened fabric over to the side, and even pressing his fingers to the entrance. Making sure to capture every move he made. “N-no guys seriously stop! I don’t wanna do this anymore! I wanna go home, please!” You cried, tears starting to leak down your cheeks the more violated and humiliated you felt. You didn’t like this feeling, your body may have been responding but god did this feel so wrong. You felt sick to your stomach.

“Don’t cry, aren’t you glad your favorite hero is giving you such special attention? You wear the cutest clothes around me, you wanted me to touch you.” “She wears these clothes everyday around us. She’s a little kitty in heat I bet. Besides, it’s your fault really. You should know better to hang around men all by yourself dressed like this.. Really, you want this I can tell.” Dabi purred into your ear, his grip and grabbing getting rougher now.

Your soft pleas of ‘no’s’ were ignored when you felt a finger dig it’s way deep into your slick heat. You cursed yourself for enjoying how the thick fingers explored and stretched you, deep humiliation bubbling in your tummy at their laughs and enjoyment from your embarrassment. You didn’t like this… You wanted them to stop and let you go. You needed a bath to wash away their touch.

“Your body knows what it wants. You’re such a dedicated fan aren’t you? You’re doing so good for me baby bird. Being our little slut, just for us only.” Hawks praise.. Felt so good. It ran shivers all up and down your body, causing you to mewl the more his big digits squished into your heat. Gods you couldn’t stop crying though, your brain knowing how fucked up this was. Even though your body felt pleasure, you still felt so dirty and wrong. The ‘stop’s’ and ‘no’s’ didn’t end though, your brain knew better than to give in to what your nerves felt.. This didn’t feel good, and you couldn’t help but turn away and shut your eyes, hoping for it to be over soon.

“Hey you fucking creep, be useful and hold the camera. Record her or something. Add some content to that spank bank you got on your computer, ya?” Dabi grunted behind you, bucking his hips up to steady you more firmly against his chest, causing that leathery bulge to buck against you. While one hand remained tormenting you poor tender tits, the other ran down to your cunny, rubbing at your little clit and adding more stimulation to the already thrusting fingers of Hawks.

“Fuck off asshat. Don’t got a spank bank..” Shigaraki mumbled from below, but snatched the camera from Hawks hand anyways and turned on the record function. Though even then he was still licking at your legs and rubbing his red-tipped member with his free hand, leaking pre-cum all over his hand and your foot. Was that camera truly angled? He didn’t know nor care, he just wanted to fucking cum. Assholes probably wouldn't send this to him anyways. “Better not be fucking shaky cause you can’t stop beating your meat, fucking virgin. Don’t wanna hear your desperate breathing either so keep it down.” Dabi teased, using his foot to kick at Shigaraki’s side with a laugh. And from the red tinting the pale cheeks, he knew he had gotten to him like always. “Fucking shut UP!” “What!? You’re the creep jacking it to her fucking feet when you got a perfectly wet cunt in your face! The hells wrong with you, ya’ nasty bastard?” 

“Can you both shut up and focus on that task at hand, giving my fan the spotlight. Looks like she’s close to… That right birdy? Gonna come for me… for us? You been dressing up like this to get our attention right? And now look at you, you got it and so much more~.” My how his fingers felt good, and you hated it. They had been nothing but perverted freaks towards you. Having their dirty gazes upon you and their hands fleeting on your clothes and body whenever you got within arm's reach of them. Only for your body to betray you in this way, what the hell was wrong with you..? Even with the rising knot in your stomach, you still hated the feeling.

“Come on sweet thing, let go for us.. Give us a show.” Dabi whispered in your ear, that that’s all it took paired with their stimulating fingers to ruin you. The spasm in your hips interrupts caused you to buck a little and gasp but cutting yourself off with the bite of a lip. You didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of hearing you cum along with seeing it.  “Nngh!” The feeling is unfair, unable to stop the jet of liquid that shoots out from in between your legs as you curl and uncurl your toes, trying hard to close your legs but your own body not allowing it. 

After having a moment to let your body somewhat settle, your hazy eyes looked down at the mess you made. Due to Shigaraki being in the line of fire, your fluids had gotten all over his face. He looked stunned for a moment, his body freezing up like a deer caught in headlights. You were a little worried that maybe he was angry, but once you felt the warm seeping into your socks you could tell he stiffened up cause he came… from humping your fucking feet. And to add onto it, your cum directly targeting him pushed him over the edge in a sudden pace he didn’t set.

Your eyes then flicker up to the two degenerates holding you at hearing the sound of coos, “Oh my, would look at that, little one just squirted.” Hawks teased, thankfully moving his fingers out of your sopping cunt onto your tummy, giving it soft grazes of affection. Dabi on the other hand wasn’t feeling as loving, giving you abused pussy a wet slap which caused you to jump. “Cumming all over him, and we’re the ones doing all the work.” Dabi tsk’ed, giving Shigaraki a sneer before kicking him again. “Enjoying it asshole? I hope you savor that, it’s the only time you’ll have a bitch squirt on you.” Which in turn caused Shigaraki to hiss at him and swipe at his leg that narrowly pulled away. He didn’t bother to respond though, not trusting his voice to come out without a stammer. He had to admit, the warm liquid on his face felt fucking hot, and after a quick swipe of his tongue, it tasted good.

All it took was for you to try to squirm your way out of Dabi’s lap to snap them all back to focusing on you. Shigaraki now dropping the phone to place both hands on your knees, Dabi’s rough hands finding your hips and digging into them, and Hawks gently grabbing your chin and pulling it to his direction. Those golden orbs hyper focused on you, almost like he was looking at a piece of meat. “Oh no where do you think you’re going feather? It would be unfair to not help us get off when we helped you. Come on, be a good little fan for me? I’ll even buy you something pretty after, for being such a good girl.”

You didn’t have a choice, you knew that for sure. All you could do is give a small nod before feeling warm lips pressed to yours. “Atta girl.”

[spideyspeaches]

Vibrations per minute ↬ P.P

AN: Based on this post ehehe. (Also 223 followers?! I’m not crying you are ಥ‿ಥ Beta read by my baby sis @parkerpeter24​ <3<3

➳ Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

➳ Warnings: smut (semi public), vibrator, minors dni

➳ WC: 1.8k +

➳ Masterlist || Taglist

Peter Parker was not who he looked to be. He was the kind of guy who impressed parents with his bambi eyes and A+ academic performances, but at the same time, he could be a little shit and tease the fuck out of you. For example-

Bets were a naturally occurring event in the Avengers compound, whether it was between Sam and Bucky about who could eat the most number of marshmallows in one go or between Tony and Peter on who could digest more amount of coffee in the least amount of time (both of which landed them in the medbay). 

So maybe placing a bet with your boyfriend may not have been your most intelligent choice. You were a smart woman, you should have known better than to place a bet with Spider-Man, especially if the bet included cardio. 

And now you were facing the consequences. 

You were sitting in the post mission debriefing room, thighs clenched as you saw your boyfriend trying (and failing) to hide his shit eating smirk. You felt the vibrations inside you once again, a little faster than before. Suppressing a moan, you tried to glare murder at him without letting the others know. 

Puffing your cheeks, you slid down the chair, hands folded on your chest. You were pretty sure your cheeks were blood red with the amount of heat you felt.

"Y/N are you sure you're alright? You look a little flushed." Steve asked, shifting to look at you from where he was besides You. He looked concerned.

"Uh- yeah- yeah I'm good. Just exhausted." You stuttered a response. Huffing, you tried to discreetly rub your stomach from clenching. A little whimper escaped your throat, which you quickly suppressed by picking up the glass of water and chugging down some.

Sam looked at you weirdly, the others not paying attention as Nick Fury asked them questions. 

"Miss Stark if you think you're going to get out of debriefing because your little boyfriend and father are sitting here, you're wrong. Please pay attention" Fury said, looking at you with his pirate eye, before turning around and muttering, "I swear sometimes they behave like school children."

You gave Bucky and Sam a glare as they snickered. 

"I'm sorry, I'll- uhh- I'll pay more attention. I'm just, my tummy hurts." You whimpered, flushing when you realised you had said "tummy" in front of the Avengers. 

"Well you better take care of the tummy ache. Don't want you to poo all over here." Peter smirked, your jaw dropping at how rude the little shit was. How unfortunate would it be when he finds out someone had burnt his Kylo Ren special edition figurine? 

"Fuck you asshat." You seethe, your glare intensifying when he increased the rate of vibrations using the phone app he was holding under the desk.

"Y/N, Peter, enough of this, now listen to what Pirate here has to say before he asks you to skedaddle back to your nursery." Your dad says, rolling his eyes at your childish banter.

You wanted to get out of there. Right away, because you couldn't take the shudders in between your legs anymore, or you would orgasm right there, in front of everyone. 

So to get back at them, you raised your hand like you were in elementary school, asking the teacher for permission, "May I go to the washroom? I wanna poo." You ask innocently, smirking when Fury widened his eyes.

Averting your eyes to your boyfriend, you silently conveyed your message, hoping that he got what you were up to. 

Ignoring the laughter of the babies in the Avengers' bodies, you stood up abruptly before he could change the settings anymore, walking stiffly to the bathroom.

"That was kind of mean of me." Peter finally said when you were out of his vision. 

"Yeah kid, I would've kicked your ass if I didn't know that she would do it before me." Tony snarked, curling his lips and shaking his head before going back to the dossier in front of him.

"You should go and apologise to her Pete. She looked upset." Steve piped in, his disappointed eyebrowsTM showing their way.

"She's in the toilet and he's a horny teenager, you really want him to go right now?" Sam said.

"Ew Sam, get your gutter brain out of here!" Peter defended, not meaning what he said.

In fact he was going to do just that. The entire time during the mission, you had been teasing him one way or another, whether it was landing in certain poses or just touching him every chance you get.

The bet was just an opportunity for him to get back at you for leaving him hot and bothered, dreaming about you all night in that tiny lingerie with spider prints on them.

“Yeah Sam, get out of here.” Natasha joked. Before he could witness the counter arguments though, he left the room, leaving a very noisy meeting room and a very frustrated Nick Fury. 

He found you in the bathroom stalls near the cafeteria. It was the women's bathroom but no one was around this time of the night, so he entered it. 

He could hear your moans and pants, your arousal hitting his nostrils as he tried to hyperfixate on you. His jeans suddenly felt strained at his… web shooter area. 

Opening the bathroom door, he clenched his fists. You were standing there, vibrator out of you and your finger inside, eyes scrunched as you threw your head back, not even noticing him enter.

"Why are you touching yourself?" He growled, smirking innocently when you jerked up, eyes taking a lustful look that sent his blood rushing south. 

"It's your fault. You were the one who made me horny in the middle of those boomers." You gritted. 

Your hand was poised on your waist now, legs still spread apart, your pussy on display. 

Grabbing you by your ass, he picked you up and slammed you against the wall, kissing your jaw, "Just seeking revenge." He mumbled  

"Oh oh Petey- revenge for what?" You moaned, arching your back as he undressed you, grabbing your now unclothed boob and sucking on one nipple, twisting the other with his fingers.

Moaning at the sensation of the cool tiles, you dug your fingers at his back, your wet pussy throbbing for a feel of his dick.

"You did it on purpose didn't you? Showing off during missions?" He sucked at your skin, leaving it tender and brushed, "you know how hot you look while you kick ass?" 

He unbuttoned his pants, letting his dick slip out with his boxers. His length never ceased to amaze you, the thick organ making your mouth water. You imagined it slipping into you, your thighs slipping wider on instinct.

He saw the look you were giving him, his lustful eyes full of mirth and desperation. Without waiting any further, he slipped out a condom from his discarded jeans' pocket, sliding his dick into your wet entrance, your ass hitting the wall as he pushed into your walls. 

Throwing your head back, you hissed as your walls clenched around him.

"You get, you get turned on when I kick ass?" You panted, grabbing his hair in desperation to the coiling in your gut, "Fuck I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna come Pete." 

"Well what are you waiting for princess?" He nibs your ear, squeezing your breasts to his now naked chest. You shuddered at the coolness of his body, he's always been cold to touch. 

"Fuck princess, feel so good." His mouth was slack, his thrusts getting harder as he shoved into you, "so tight for me. Enjoying my cock in your pussy eh?"

"Yes! Oh- I love it Pete I love it!" Hitting your head on his chest, you pinched his nipple, making him groan and hit your stomach, the slapping sound echoing in the bathroom.

"Say it louder pretty girl" 

"Why?" You whined, "I should get back to you for using the vibrator but I'm having too much fun." 

You groaned, Your eyes scrunched when his thrusts started to slow down, his senses too overloaded to work together with his stamina.

"Yeah you're needy aren't you?" He said, out of breath from your little meet. He set you down, wiping off your cum using the tissue paper, flushing it off in the toilet. 

He took a minute to just admire you. Your body was shining from sweat, your breath coming out in short pants. You were completely naked, breasts out to the display. He flushed when you smirked at him, you had caught him staring. Not that you minded.

"My beautiful girl." He said, voice husky from strain as he closed the distance between you both, holding you in his arms. 

You laid your head on his chest, rubbing your cheeks against his pectorals. You could hear his racing heart, chuckling when you saw heat rising up his chest to his neck and then face. 

"Why are you blushing? We literally just fucked." You laughed, tracing circles on his collarbones. He looked ethereal from where you were standing, perfectly sculpted by a skillful sculptor. 

"Because you're amazing and I can't believe you're my girl." He said. 

"Mmhm,” You nodded against him, “Also, do you always keep a condom in your pocket?" 

        __________••☆••__________

There were many reasons as to why you keep around Peter, and one of them is that he's an amazing chef. Living with his aunt and uncle, he and Ben had been the main source of home cooked meals, because Aunt May was never good at cooking. 

You saw him standing in the kitchen, flipping pancakes while he hummed to some melody. You didn't mind, you could stare at him all day. Thankfully, none of the Avengers were awake yet (but they would be. They're huge fans of his food) 

"Morning." You smile, wrapping your hands around his waist, placing your head on his back.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked, moving around as you clung to him like a koala. Giggling, you wrapped your legs around his waist, jumping on his back like a potato sack. 

"Mmhm, the best sleep I've had in a long while." You mumble, words muffled by his back.

"Is that so?" He asked. 

"Yup." 

Hearing shuffling noises, you quickly jumped off of him, fixing your t-shirt and sitting on the dining table.

You saw as Steve and Sam entered the kitchen, Natasha soon following suit. Clint had left for his home early that morning, wanting to meet Laura and his kids as soon as he could. 

You smiled at each of them, nodding a good morning and helping them sort a plate. 

You were arranging the plates when you heard a choked gasp. Alarmed at the sound, you looked up at Steve's horrified expression, looking at where he was pointing a finger.

"What?" You asked, biting your lips.

"That- is that a hickey?!?" 

Slapping your neck, you let the plate clatter on the table, ignoring Peter's scrambled replies. You saw Bucky entering from the corner of your eye, unable to formulate a coherent answer.

"Oh my god, Bucky they totally fucked yesterday!" 

Page dividers by @cicicantblog​

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Inked Up - Fred Weasley

Title: Inked up Pairing: Fred x Fem!Muggle!TattooArtist!Reader Warnings: NSFW!! Dirty talk, fingering, female receiving oral, unprotected sex, choking. There is also mention of needles!! Summary: Fred never thought he’d get a tattoo. But of course when a pretty girl offers he can’t say no. A/N: Summary is shit but again, what else is new. I had a dream about Fred getting a tattoo and couldn’t stop thinking about it so here you guys go lol. Thank you to everyone who suggested tattoo ideas!! Feedback is always welcome!! Tags: not tagging anyone as I am unsure who is 18+!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Charlie watches Molly disappear back into the kitchen after dropping off some hot chocolate to everyone in the living room, muttering something about starting to prep the food for tomorrow’s feast. After the war he’s made an effort to come home more often, but it’s been a few months since he’s seen all of his siblings, and he’s made a major upgrade to his body that he’s been dying to show off.

“Finally thought she’d never leave.” Everyone turns to look at Charlie and he gives them a smile. “I wanna show you guys something.”

When Charlie starts to take off his shirt Fred puts his hands up. “Woah there, Char. Do I have to remind you that we’re all related to you?” he jokes. “Although some of us not yet,” he teases, nudging Harry with his foot. He and Ginny got engaged a few months ago and as her older brother Fred has taken it upon himself to tease them both about it every chance he gets.

“Oh, screw off, Fred. I got a tattoo you prat,” Charlie explains as he pulls his shirt off over his head. He turns around so everyone can see the ink on his shoulder blade. It’s a rather amazing portrait of a Hungarian horntail, and they all gasp as its wings start to flap and fire shoots out of its nose. “Sick, right?”

Fred stares at it in awe, watching it move over and over again. He’s never really thought about getting a tattoo or any real body modifications. He watched Katie Bell pierce Alicia Spinnet’s ears with a needle and an ice cube in the common room second year, and that was enough for him to decide that he never wanted to do anything like that to his own body. But now, watching the tattoo on his brother’s back move he can’t help but wonder what a tattoo would look like on his own body.

“Looks wicked, Charlie,” Ginny comments. “Does mum know?”

Charlie shakes his head with a laugh and pulls his shirt back on before turning back to face his siblings. “No, and no one in this room is gonna tell her.”

“I dunno, Charlie. Mum’s been giving me crap about my earring for years, might be nice to not hear about it for a while,” Bill teases.

Charlie throws a pillow at Bill, and everyone gets back to what they were doing before Charlie’s announcement, except for Fred, who’s still thinking about the tattoo on his brother’s back.

-

Like most decisions in Fred’s life, his decision to get a tattoo is impulsive. He’s been thinking about getting a tattoo since Charlie showed his off on Christmas Eve, so when he’s heading back towards Diagon Alley with coffee for him and George it seems natural for him to take a detour into a tattoo shop. Six months is a fairly long time to think about something and he doesn’t seem the harm in just merely looking around.

“Hi, can I help you with something?”

Fred pulls his attention away from the art that litters the walls of the small space towards the counter in front of him. He’d been so mesmerized by the atmosphere that he didn’t even notice the young woman standing just a few feet away. But now that he has, he can’t seem to look away.

She is by far the most beautiful woman Fred has ever seen. Her long hair cascades down her back and there’s light reflecting off of the small diamond of her nose piercing. The variety of simple, black line art tattoos that crawl up her left arm stand out on her skin, and Fred let’s his eyes trace over them for a moment. He lets his eyes trail back up to hers and he gives her his signature smirk.

“I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo, actually,” Fred explains, stepping up to the counter. He rests his hands on the counter and leans on them, and Fred watches as the young women’s eyes trace the muscles and veins of his forearms.

“Well you’ve come to the right place,” the young woman responds as her eyes meet Fred’s once again. There’s a fresh pink tint to her cheeks and it makes Fred’s heart beat faster in his chest. “Do you have any idea of what you’d want to get?”

“I’ve got a few, I think. I dunno, I don’t want to pick the wrong thing and end up with something I hate on my body for the rest of my life, ya know?” he chuckles.

“That’s part of the thrill isn’t it?” she asks. Her eyes are bright with mischief, and Fred can feel himself swooning. “I’ve got a fair few tattoos that I picked out just a few minutes before my appointment. Sometimes life shouldn’t be taken so seriously. And if you really hate something you can always get it covered up later.”

Fred lets his eyes trace some of her tattoos again while he waits for his heart rate to calm down. He’s already become enamored by this woman and he doesn’t even know her name. “Well you’ve convinced me then. D’you have any suggestions? Being an expert and all,” he flirts.

The flush on the woman’s cheeks deepens and Fred practically drools when she pulls her plump bottom lip between her teeth as she thinks. “Well since you’re a virgin, a tattoo virgin,” she clarifies when Fred snickers. “I’d recommend something simple and meaningful. That way if you realize tattoos aren’t for you at least the one you have means something. And if tattoos are for you, the boring one is already out of the way and your next one can be something fun.”

“Like a meaningful date, something like that?” Fred asks, a few different ideas swimming around in his mind.

“As long as it’s not an anniversary with a girlfriend. I can’t tell you how many of those I’ve had to cover up,” the young woman laughs.

“No girlfriend, so no worries there,” Fred responds, unable to miss the excited look that crosses the woman’s face. “I’m Fred, by the way.”

The woman holds out her hand, a shiver running down her spine when Fred grabs it. “I’m Y/N.” After their handshake the linger with their hands clasped together, both a little reluctant to let go.

-

Fred makes an appointment for a tattoo that evening, and by the time he stops at Gringotts to grab some muggle money and heads into the joke shop both the coffees in his hand have gone cold.

“Took you long enough, git. Did you get lost?” George teases, using his wand to rewarm both of their drinks. One Saturday a month they keep the shop closed and use the opportunity to rearrange the shelves, inventory the products so they can put orders into their suppliers and make up new displays. They never want the store to seem boring or stagnant, and this one day a month allows them to keep things interesting.

“I had to make a few stops on the way,” Fred explains, starting to dig through a box of whizbangs.

“Okay mister secretive,” George huffs. “You finally get a girlfriend you haven’t told me about?”

Fred doesn’t look up from what he’s doing, knowing the flush on his cheeks will only cause George to tease him further. “You’re an idiot.” He had planned on keeping his tattoo a secret for a bit, something just for him. But there are few things in the world Fred keeps from George. “I’m gonna get a tattoo.”

“Oh?” George asks in surprise. “You’ve never talked about it before.”

Fred shrugs. “Just been thinking about it, for a bit. Since Charlie showed us his at Christmas. I never thought it’d be something for me but, it seemed cool. I noticed a shop on my way back and popped in. Just to see what it was about. But I started talking to the girl in there-“

“Ah,” George says in realization, cutting Fred off. “A pretty girl convinced you to get one. I see, I see,” he teases.

Fred looks up at George this time and whips a whizbang box at his head. “I didn’t say she was pretty.”

“That blush on your cheeks does though,” George responds with a chuckle.

“You’re an asshat.”

George rolls his eyes. “So, what did the pretty girl say that made you get a tattoo?”

George seems genuinely interested, so Fred chooses to ignore the teasing tone he has. “That life isn’t so serious.”

“That’s it? This woman must be drop dead gorgeous if that’s all it took for you to decide to put something on your body forever.”

“I mean that wasn’t what she said verbatim. And it sounded better when she said it,” Fred insists, throwing another whizbang box at George. He cheers when it hits his brother in the chest and he ducks his head when George whips it right back at him. “And even though it’s none of your business and it had no bearing on my decision, she was hot as hell.”

-

When Fred returns to the shop that night his knees are shaking slightly, and he has butterflies in his stomach. He’s excited and scared at the same time, but all around ready for this new experience. Y/N is already waiting for him at the counter when he steps in the shop, and the warm smile she shoots him does wonders to calm his nerves.

“Long time no see,” he greets smoothly, coming up to stand in front of the counter again.

“Sorry who are you again?” she teases with a wink. Y/N has been looking forward to Fred’s return since the moment the shop door shut behind him. It’s rare someone as handsome and charming as Fred walks into the shop, and the chemistry between them had been too heavy to deny. Y/N’s one major rule is to refrain from sleeping with her clients, but one look at Fred’s muscles bulging in his thin t-shirt had her ready to jump over the counter and into his strong arms.

Fred gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Am I really that unforgettable?”

“There are many words I would use to describe you, Fred. And unforgettable is not one of them,” she responds, making her voice as sultry as possible.

Fred had a feeling Y/N had been attracted to him when he came into the shop earlier, but her confirmation leaves a warm feeling in his chest. He hasn’t stopped thinking about her since this morning and he hopes he leaves this appointment with more than just a tattoo. “Really? Care to share a few?”

“I care to share more than a few things with you, Fred. But we’ve got other things to attend to first.” Y/N bites her lip, letting her eyes rake up and down Fred’s body for a moment, before motioning for him to follow her. She leads Fred over to her station where she’d already started to get things set up. “Here’s the stencil I drew up, it’s pretty simple so I can always add more if you want.”

Fred takes the piece of paper from Y/N, letting his finger graze the back of her hand for a moment. “It’s perfect, Y/N.”

Y/N smiles at Fred taking the stencil back from him. “Great. Where do you want it to go?”

Fred bites his lip and he makes direct eye contact with Y/N as he pulls his shirt off over his head. He watches her eyes drop down to his torso for a moment and he tenses his ab muscles for a moment. “I was thinking right here,” he starts, grabbing Y/N’s attention again. He gestures to the area under his right pec. “The uh, what’s this called? Under boob area?” he chuckles.

“The pec?” she asks with a laugh, unable to keep her eyes from wandering down to Fred’s bare torso. Apart from a few random scars his skin is milky white and perfect. Obviously he takes care of his body, and Y/N can tell his muscles are hard and toned. She wants to dig her nails into his flesh, but she’ll settle with digging her tattoo needle into it first.

“The pec, right. That’s what it’s called.” As Y/N prepares to put the stencil on his skin Fred lets himself admire her. The skirt she’s wearing is short, and it exposes half of a large tattoo on her right thigh. Fred is imagining what it would feel like to sink his teeth into it, when Y/N is touching his chest lightly.

“There,” she says as she finishes putting the stencil on. “Go check it out in the mirror and see what you think. I can make it bigger or smaller if you want and we can change the placement up too.”

Fred watches as Y/N turns around to do something at her station, his eyes focused on the way the fabric of her skirt clings to her ass. When Y/N turns around and catches him looking he smirks. “Oh, was I supposed to be checking out the tattoo? My mistake.” Fred winks at her before turning towards the mirror and examining how the stencil looks on his skin.

“Look good?” Y/N asks when Fred turns back around. She sits down in her chair and motions for Fred to lay back on the table.

“Looks perfect,” Fred confirms. He feels his nerves start to return ss he climbs up on the table and lays back. He watches as Y/N pulls on a pair of gloves and smiles at her when she looks down at him. “You do have your license to do this, right? Probably should have asked that before we got this far.”

Y/N laughs. “You’re in safe hands, Fred. I promise.” She grabs her gun and turns it on before gently dips the needle into the maroon ink Fred had picked out earlier. “Let me know if you need a break or the pain is too intense, okay?”

“Roger that.” The hum of the gun is somewhat soothing to Fred and he takes a deep breath, slowly releasing it as Y/N presses the gun to the first line. “Oh,” he breathes, eyes wide. “Not as bad as I thought it would be.”

Y/N chuckles as she starts to trace the stencil, pausing for a moment to collect some more ink. “Told ya you were in safe hands.” She continues to ink Fred’s skin for a moment, trying not to pay attention to how close they are. “So why this date? You said you don’t have a girlfriend but it’s far too recent to be your birthday, unless you’re a very mature three-year-old.” she asks, trying to distract herself from how bad she wants to climb on top of him.

Fred holds in his laugh until Y/N has pulled the gun away from his skin. “It’s uh, the day that I almost died, actually,” he mumbles, wiping his sweaty palms off on his jeans. It’s been just over three years since the Battle of Hogwarts, and even though Fred’s nightmares about that night have long since stopped talking about it never fails to make him emotional.

“Oh,” Y/N says softly, starting to trace the numbers once again. “That’s um. Sorry, I’m not sure what to say. I really wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“It’s okay. That’s what all the scars are from, actually. Freak accident, a stone wall collapsed on top of me.” For a moment Fred is actually glad that he can lie to Y/N about his brush with death. Hearing that he was nearly murdered during the final battle of a war against a dark wizard is far more terrifying. “I felt powerless for a long time after it happened, which is why I wanted to get this tattoo. Take back some of the power I lost.”

“Wow, Fred. That’s really beautiful.” Y/N undeniably feels attracted to Fred, and she’s starting to realize it goes far deeper than just wanting him in her bed. He’s charismatic and charming, but there’s sincerity and softness in there too. “I got a rose for my first tattoo because it’s my Mum’s name and I figured it would make her less angry.”

Fred chuckles, thankful for Y/N’s distraction. “Did it work?”

“Not at all,” Y/N reveals. “She didn’t talk to me, for weeks. She’s okay with it now, especially since it’s my career. But yeah she was pretty pissed for a long time.”

“And that’s exactly why I don’t plan on ever telling my Mum. My older brother pierced his ear years ago and she still gives him crap about it even though he’s married with a kid now. I will never hear the end of it if she finds out about this.”

“Guess this will have to be our dirty little secret,” Y/N teases with a wink.

“As long as it’s not the only dirty think between us,” Fred fires back, smirking when her cheeks flush pink.

Y/N rolls her eyes to try and downplay how turned on she is. “Keep it in your pants a little bit longer, Fred. We’re almost done here.”

“As long as you promise to help me take it out of my pants later on,” Fred suggests with a wink.

“You’re one cheeky bastard. Has anyone ever told you that?” Y/N asks as she finishes up the tattoo. She turns her gun off and puts it down, before grabbing a paper towel to wipe off the access ink.

“Many times, though it sounds much better coming from your mouth.” Fred sits up slowly, and heads over to the mirror to examine the tattoo. The ink is the same color as his old Gryffindor Quidditch Robes and the font is simple, but Fred is completely enamored by it. His eyes trace over the numbers over and over again, like they might disappear if he looks away.

“You like it?” Y/N asks, watching Fred as she cleans her station up.

Fred turns to look at Y/N, a huge smile on his face. “It’s absolutely perfect. You did an amazing job.”

“Thank you, Fred.” Y/N feels like she’s on cloud 9, and she slowly approaches Fred so she can finish up the appointment. “Now you’ll need to wash it a few times a day with unscented soap and pat it dry with a paper towel and apply some ointment to it as well. As it heals it’ll itch like crazy but try your hardest not to scratch it. You should wear a loose shirt for the first few days, so the tattoo doesn’t stick to it.” Y/N places a piece of clingfilm on Fred’s chest, subtly feeling his hard muscles as she smoothes it out. “You have to leave this on for a few hours. Sound good?” Y/N looks up at Fred then, letting out a small gasp at how intense his gaze is.

“Sounds perfect.” As Y/N starts to pull her hands away Fred grabs them in his and brings her into his chest. He intertwines their fingers with one hand, while the other comes up to cup her cheek. “Can I kiss you?” When Y/N nods weakly Fred leans down and presses their lips together in a slow kiss.

As they kiss it starts to turn desperate and Y/N whines as Fred’s hands start to shove up the back of her shirt. “As much as I would love to fuck you right here we’d be breaking about 20 different health code violations,” Y/N pants as Fred starts to trail kisses down her neck. “There’s a staircase, in the back. It leads up to my flat. I need to fuck,” her sentence cuts off with a moan as Fred starts to suck a mark into her skin.

“I need to fuck too,” Fred jokes, pulling away from her slightly. “I’ll wait for you upstairs while you do whatever you need to down here, yeah?” Fred kisses Y/N again briefly before forcing himself away. He grabs his t-shirt and looks over his shoulder at Y/N one last time before he heads off towards her flat.

“Fucking finally,” Y/N groans a few minutes later when she’s joining Fred. She pushes him up against her front door, one of her hands grabbing his neck to pull him into a kiss, while the other goes to his crotch and palms his hardening erection through his trousers. “You have no idea how hard it was for me to not jump on you the second you laid back on that table.”

Fred moans as Y/N grips him through his trousers, her lips biting at the sensitive skin on his neck. “Do you have any idea how unbelievably sexy I find you? The second I saw you I wanted to bend you over that fucking counter and ruin you.” Fred brings their lips together again in a hot kiss as Y/N opens the door and shoves Fred into her flat.

Y/N lives in a small studio, so it’s easy for her to guide Fred over to her bed while they kiss. She pushes him back onto her bed and kicks off her shoes before climbing back over him. “Fuck I so wish you had, Fred. I spent all day thinking about your hands and your stupid arm muscles.”

“Let me show you what I can do with these hands then, princess.” Fred kicks off his shoes before flipping them over. He starts to press open mouthed kisses to the column of Y/N’s throat as his hands move under her shirt and up her torso. His hands cup her breasts, and when his thumbs rub over Y/N’s nipples he lets out a surprised gasp. “Holy fucking shit that’s hot. Take your shirt off.”

Y/N laughs as she sits up enough to pull her shirt off over her head. She tosses it away and as soon as her back is against the bed again, Fred’s hands are cupping and massaging her breasts. He’s watching her intensely and it sends a shiver down her spine. Y/N lets out a low moan as Fred’s thumbs start to toy with the silver barbells in her nipples.

Fred leans down and takes one of her nipples into his mouth, moaning when the cool metal touches his warm tongue. The tip of the tongue joys with the jewelry for a few moments before Fred’s teeth nibble at the sensitive bud. Y/N’s moans spur him on, and he starts to grind his erection against her thigh. “You are so fucking sexy, Y/N.”

“More, Fred, please,” Y/N pants. Fred’s every manipulation on her breasts is sending shocks of pleasure right to her aching core, and Y/N is desperate for more. “Show me what else your hands can do.”

Fred reluctantly gets off of the bed to rid himself of the rest of his clothes, motioning for Y/N to do the same. “Can’t wait to bury my fingers in you,” Fred growls as he settles back in between Y/N’s legs. He bends Y/N’s knees and pushes her thighs back as far as they’ll go so she’s completely spread open for him. He starts to slowly trail his fingers up her thigh watching as goosebumps erupt in their wake. “Such a pretty pussy you have, princess. And so wet too.” Fred’s thumb starts to slowly rub through Y/N’s folds, his eyes watching Y/N’s face. “This all for me, princess?”

Y/N moans as Fred’s thumb starts to slowly rub circles on her clit. “All for you Fred, fuck. Need more, please.”

“Need what?” he teases, his index finger slowly starting to trace her dripping entrance. “Need my fingers to fuck your desperate cunt?”

“Fred,” Y/N moans as he finally sinks his index finger into her. She starts to toy with her nipples as he adds another finger, slowly curling them as he pumps them in and out of her.

“Such a tight cunt, princess,” Fred coos. He watches as Y/N writhes underneath him, mesmerized by the way her teeth tug at her bottom lip. “My cock might split you in two if I try and fuck you.” Y/N lets out a low moan at that and Fred smirks. “You like that, princess? You want my cock to split you open?”

Y/N nods, too busy panting and moaning to actually answer Fred. His fingers are hitting her g-spot with every thrust and his thumb is rubbing hard circles on her clit. Arousal is building in her stomach at a rapid pace, and just the thought of Fred splitting her open on his cock nearly pushes her over the edge.

“Come on my fingers first, princess. Then I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget your name.” Fred focuses on bringing Y/N to her climax then, quickening the speed at which his fingers are fucking into her. He replaces the thumb that’s rubbing at her clit with his mouth, immediately sucking the sensitive bud between his lips and nibbling on it gently.

“Oh fuck, Freddie,” Y/N moans as she hits her climax, her legs shutting from the pleasure, trapping Fred’s head between her thighs. He starts to moan around her clit, sending extra shockwaves of pleasure through Y/N’s body. Her back arches as another mini orgasm rips through her body, her hips grinding down onto Fred’s face. “Oh my god,” Y/N gasps as she starts to come down, her legs relaxing so Fred can sit up.

“Such a good girl princess,” he praises, bringing the fingers that had been in Y/N up to her mouth. She immediately brings them between her lips and sucks, letting her tongue wrap around them as she tastes herself on the digits. Fred’s cock twitches as he imagines her mouth wrapped around something else, and he has to pull his fingers away to keep from coming at the sight. “You taste so good, don’t you princess?”

Y/N hums in confirmation, and she reaches up to grab Fred, pulling him down into a kiss. She lets her tongue roam around his mouth, moaning into it. “Fuck me Fred, please. Need you now.”

Fred grabs one of Y/N’s legs and hitches it over his shoulder, gripping the base of his cock to line up with her entrance. Her folds are glistening, and he can’t resist letting the tip of his cock run through them. “Such a warm cunt, princess. Gonna make my cock feel so good.” Fred starts to slowly push his hips forward not stopping until his hips are pushed flush to Y/N’s. “Oh my fuck, princess. Such a tight little pussy you have. Gripping my cock so well.”

“Move Fred, please,” Y/N begs, her own hips starting to buck up in search of friction. “Fuck me hard, please. Want you to ruin me.”

Fred leans over Y/N and braces himself on one of his hands, starting to pound into her relentlessly. “Not gonna touch your clit, princess,” Fred grunts as he lands a hard thrust. “Wanna see if I can get you to come from just my cock.”

Y/N moans and grips Fred’s shoulders with her hands to avoid touching herself. Fred is fucking into her deeply, and the head of his cock is rubbing her g-spot with every movement. “Stretching me out so good, Freddie,” Y/N groans. “Feel so full. Love being full of your cock.”

Fred leans down to peck Y/N’s lips several times before his head dips down to briefly toy with her nipple. “Fuck, princess. Making such pretty noises for me.” Y/N’s mouth is hanging open, a mixture of moans, pants and whines leaving her lips. “Can I try something, princess? Let me know if you don’t like it okay?”

“I trust you, Fred.”

Fred wraps the hand he isn’t supporting himself on around Y/N’s throat, just barely applying pressure to the sides. He groans as her walls tighten around his cock, applying just a bit more pressure. “This okay, princess? Need to hear your words.”

“Yes, Fred,” Y/N gasps. “Choke me harder.” When Fred applies more pressure Y/N’s eyes roll to the back of her head, her walls clenching and twitching around Fred as she suddenly hits her climax.

“Such a good girl, princess. So good for me,” Fred praises, releasing Y/N’s throat so she can breathe normally as she comes down from her orgasm. “Gonna come, princess. Can I fill you up? Wanna be full of my come?”

Y/N nods, clenching around Fred to help him reach his climax. “Fill me up Fred, please. Wanna feel your cum dripping down my thighs.”

That does it for Fred, and his hips stutter as he starts to shoot his load deep inside of Y/N. He rolls his hips slowly as he comes down, only pulling out when his cock has finished twitching. He stays between Y/N’s legs for a moment, watching her folds flutter as some of his release starts to drip out of her and down onto the bed. He collapses on the bed next to Y/N and opens an arm for her to cuddle into his chest.

“Fuck that was hot,” she giggles, pressing a few kisses to Fred’s sweaty skin. One of her arms winds around his waist, squeezing slightly. “You can stay the night. If you want. No pressure or anything,” she rambles, embarrassment washing over her.

Fred tilts her chin up, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to her lips. “Darling, not even a fire would get me up out of this bed away from you.”

-

When Fred wakes up in the morning Y/N is still asleep, cuddled up under the blanket with his t-shirt on. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead before getting out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom. Before they passed out, Y/N had shown him how to properly take care of his tattoo and he starts to repeat the process. Once it’s clean and he’s applied a thin layer of ointment, Fred just let’s his finger trace over the fresh ink, watching himself in the mirror.

“So? Do you regret it?” Y/N asks, leaning against the doorway to the bathroom.

Fred turns to look at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “The tattoo? Or the sex?”

Y/N ponders his questions for a moment. “Both.”

“No to both,” Fred answers honestly. He opens his arms, and Y/N immediately presses herself against his front, winding her arms around his middle. Fred grips her waist with one hand, while the other starts to gently rub her back.

“When do you think you’ll want more?” Y/N asks, looking up at Fred.

“Tattoos? Or sex?” he asks with a grin.

“Both,” Y/N repeats.

Fred bites his lip. “Tattoo maybe in a few weeks, once this one is healed up. But the sex? I’d say right now.” He leans down to press a kiss to Y/N’s mouth, slowly walking them back over to her bed.

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Word Count: 2.3k 

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm. 

Notes: Multipart fic, slow burn. Updates to come soon (and dw, fic’s completed, so you won’t be left hanging ^^)

Masterlist here

AO3 Link here

‘You sure you want the job?’ Miya Osamu asks her when she turns up at his shop, application in hand, responding to the advertisement in Onigiri Miya’s window for part time staff -  general help needed, ability to ride a scooter a plus point - it had read. 

There are only fifteen seats in Onigiri Miya, and hardly any space for her to fit her backpack between her knees, but sunlight streams in invitingly from the glass shop front and there is a faint smell of grilled rice and fried fish that reminds her of weekly lunches at her grandparents’ home.  

‘Yes’, she answers, gesturing with her thumb at her scooter parked outside the shop. ‘I think I’m a good fit for this job’. The corner of Miya Osamu’s mouth lifts ever so slightly, and he leans forward in his seat, hand extended to her.  

‘Welcome to Onigiri Miya then’, he says before proceeding to brisk walk her through the ins and outs of the shop, the scope of her responsibilities, work schedule and (most importantly) her wage, leaving her head spinning at the end of the impromptu briefing. Miya Osamu seems passionate about his craft, his face brightening up with enthusiasm when he talks her through the various onigiris he sells, the type of rice he buys (from a boutique rice farmer in Hyogo, apparently), and he’s generous enough to offer her a decent wage, more than what she could be making working in a combini. 

She stands by her bike on the roadside, tilting her face to the setting sun. There is the faintest smell of rain in the air. 

She soon falls into the rhythm of Onigiri Miya. 

Osamu is strangely territorial over food preparation, so her tasks in the kitchen are mainly limited to washing rice (thrice in clean water, drained thoroughly) and doling out cups of tea and bowls of soup. When he finds out that she’s studying accountancy at Osaka University, he immediately places her in charge of the cash register (and later, in charge of their books). Her scooter comes in handy when he needs her to do urgent stock runs or deliveries to customers. 

She learns the name of their regular customers - Abe-san, who only ever orders salmon onigiris with a side of pork bone soup. Kawasaki-san, who spends half her meal complaining about her aches and pains to a sympathetic Osamu. Mina-san, who turns up every day for breakfast after Osamu includes spam onigiri on his menu after he overhears that she misses her hometown of Okinawa.  

Osamu calls her over at the end of her shift on a busy Saturday night. ‘I’ve a large order for an old customer of mine. D’you think you could help deliver it?’ 

There is a gleam in his eye that she does not quite like.  

‘You sound like you’re sending me out to slaughter’ she comments half-jokingly, to which he responds with an amused shrug of his shoulder. She considers whether it’s bad form to throw her shoe at her boss’s head, but decides not to waste her time. So she shoulders the large sack of food, heading off on her scooter to a neat apartment building in a quiet neighbourhood.

Well – it would have been a quiet neighbourhood but for the music blasted from the top floor of her destination. She has to cover her ears the minute the elevator opens and wonders if their neighbours are deaf or dead because there is no way otherwise the apartment wouldn’t have copped a noise complaint. Grimacing at the tape over the doorbell, she knocks politely on the door. 

There is no response. 

She knocks once more, less politely this time, but still the door does not open. ‘Hello, your delivery is here!’ she calls firmly, slamming her fist down on the sturdy wooden door. 

There is still no response.  

She’s about to turn around when the door crashes open and a blonde head pops out. Her jaw falls open because standing before her is the spitting image of her boss that just sent her out with this order, albeit blonde and ever so slightly broader.  

‘You’re not ‘Samu, but you’re pretty’, he leers, leaning against the doorway. 

She’s tempted to deck him but she’s pretty sure that would mean losing her job. So reminding herself that all that’s standing between her and her bed is this delivery, she bites her tongue and extends the bag of food to him. ‘Your order, sir. Payment please.’ 

‘Didn’t ‘Samu mention that I don’t need to pay?’ The blonde Osamu replica tugs the bag of food towards him, frowning when she refuses to let go. 

‘Not that I know of - and I can’t let you have your order unless you pay for it’, she answers firmly, foot against the door. 

He straightens into his height in a thinly veiled attempt to intimidate her - and while he’s at least six foot of solid muscle from what she can see, it’s thanks to years of working in her father’s shop with men at least a full head taller and broader than her that she’s not afraid to tip her chin up at him with her widest, sharpest grin until he looks away to draw out a couple of thousand yen bills from his pocket, enough to cover the bill. 

‘Fine, fine - tell ‘Samu he wins’, he grumbles, slamming the door in her face. 

She waits until she’s back at her scooter and a good distance away from the apartment before she dials Osamu’s number. 

‘What was that?’ she asks without preamble when he picks up.  

‘What was what?’ Osamu answers, sounding uncharacteristically amused. 

‘Don’t play cute with me! Did you just make me deliver food to your brother?’ 

‘My twin actually’, and he ignores her squawk of indignation. ’Did he pay up?’

‘What do you take me for - of course! I didn’t let go of the food until he did.’

‘Huh’, Osamu responds, sounding surprised. ‘That’s the first time he actually gave in’. And with that, he laughs merrily and hangs up on her. 

She shrugs it off as one of her boss’s weird quirks. 

Except it doesn’t stop as being a weird quirk but turns into an annoying habit. 

Atsumu quickly becomes a regular customer (she learns during one of the twins’ many bickering sessions that he’s back in Osaka after several competitions), and Osamu latches on pretty fast that she’s far better than he is at forcing Atsumu to pay for the food he eats, so he sics her on Atsumu every time the blonde setter shows up at the shop for a meal. 

‘Pay up’ she orders Atsumu for the fourth time this week. Her tone gives no berth for refusal so Atsumu reaches for his pockets even as he grumbles his complaints about ‘cowardly scrubs’ and ‘ crazy bitches’ at a grinning Osamu. 

‘You should give me a raise for managing your brother’, she complains to Osamu later, and though he raises an eyebrow at her, to her surprise, he does exactly that. 

Osamu proceeds to take advantage of said raise to send her to man their stand at MSBY’s first match of the season, armed with a few hundred onigiris. Business is brisk, but she finds her attention diverted by the sheer speed of the plays and the way the players all seem to have wings in their feet. 

Atsumu in particular catches her eye. Osamu explained to her over a slow day at work about volleyball positions and basic plays, and he boasted about Atsumu’s talent as a setter, how ‘he always takes the best care of his spikers’. Watching him now, even to her untrained eye, she can see how much thought he puts into each of his plays - the way he tricks the blockers to let his spikers fly high above them, the quick side stepping of increasingly frustrated attackers, the dump shots at the most unexpected of times. 

She’s impressed, though she doesn’t want to admit it - because Atsumu has the personality of a puddle of muddy rainwater, and she's fairly sure he'd never let her hear the end of it if he ever finds out. 

So it isn’t surprising when she spots him being hassled by a large gaggle of his fan girls outside the sports hall. They’re hanging off his arms begging him for autographs - and probably something much less innocent from the way his eyes are bugging out of his head. It’s tempting to walk away from him – it’s not as if he’s been particularly nice to her after all, but a few of the more rabid fan girls seem to get a little  too  close for comfort and she figures even he doesn’t deserve that . Plus he probably can’t just shove them off because that might cause yet another PR debacle that she and Osamu have become accustomed seeing in the news, so she breathes a sigh through her nose, cursing her conscience.   

‘Oi asshat, your ride’s here’, she shouts as loudly as she can, shouldering her way to the center of the crowd. His fan girls stare in stunned silence, but Atsumu catches on after she shoves her spare helmet into his chest, and grabbing her wrist for dear life, they sprint all the way to her scooter.  

‘Don’t tell me you’ve never ridden before’, she snaps as he fiddles helplessly at his helmet. 

‘Of course, I have, what d’you take me for, some scrub?’ he retorts when he manages to strap his it on to his head. Her scooter groans under his weight. 

Yes - she itches to retort, because he’s clearly lying. He fights to keep upright as she loops her way through bends on the road and maintains a white knuckled grip on the back of his seat until she comes to a stop two streets away where his fan girls are unlikely to see him. 

‘So, where to?’ she asks him as he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. ‘I could let you off here, or we could grab some food - your choice.’ 

‘Eh… Could we drop by 7-11?’ he chuckles sheepishly. 

‘Really? You want me to take you to a  combini  when your brother literally owns a restaurant?’ 

‘I’m cravin’ an egg mayo sandwich, what’s wrong with that?!’ he yells as she revs off, and she laughs when he squeaks and clings on to her waist. 

They end up at a combini anyway. Atsumu buys his egg mayo sandwich. And a bucket load of oden. And a bagful of karaage. And two pudding cups (singly packed, none of the triple cup kind for him  thank you very much). At least he steers clear of the onigiri section, because Osamu might explode otherwise if he ever finds out. 

‘You’re paying the fine if my bike gets impounded’ she tells him sourly.

‘Relax - it’ll be fine’, he waves his hand airily at her. ‘’Sides, what’s a girl like you doing with a bike?’

‘A girl like me?’ she echoes, tilting her head in confusion. 

‘Y’know - kinda square and all? I assumed so, since ‘Samu mentioned you’re studying to be an accountant’, he clarifies through a mouthful of food. 

‘Square?! ’ she mouths at him, outraged, and he grins unrepentantly back at her, crunching on karaage. She abandons her annoyance to scoot back to avoid the ensuing spray of crumbs. 

‘Do you want me to answer seriously, or was that a rhetorical question, gross pig?’ 

 ‘Please, I’m always serious, darlin’, he drawls. 

She steals a fishcake from him in retaliation and he tries to rap her knuckles with his sandwich. They only settle down when the combini staff glare at them mildly in reproof. 

‘I’ve always wanted to ride a bike ‘cos it seemed like it allowed its rider to be free’, she says, shooting a fond look through the window at her own scooter, rusty and old it may be. 

‘I mean it allows you to get from one place to another, what’s so special about that?’ he asks, cocking his head in confusion.  

‘Mm…well, not just that. You see, when I was younger, I used to be so jealous of my older brothers getting to ride their motorbikes. They refused to let me borrow it, so I stole it one day when they weren’t looking and took off - but because I was so excited, I hit the thrusters so hard on the way up a hill that I ended up crashing on the way down. But right before I crashed, there was a moment when I was on the top of the world with the wind in my face - it was the first time I truly felt  alive .’ 

 She closes her eyes at the memory, her mouth lifting into a smile. ‘And that’s what I become addicted to - chasing that feeling of being completely unfettered from the world, like a bird in the sky. 

He stares at her meditatively, as though she’s a puzzle he can’t quite solve.

‘What!’ she exclaims, the tips of her ears flushing pink, suddenly self-conscious. 

‘Nothin’, darlin’. Just thought that you’re more interesting than I thought’. Ignoring her indignant ‘ what?!’ , he stands up, brushing the crumbs off his lap. ‘Shall we get goin’? It’s about to rain.’ 

 The ride back to his apartment passes in a blur of streetlights and gathering rain clouds, but thankfully it’s not as unpleasant as it was before as Atsumu eases into his seat, moving with her when she drops into a bend, loosening his hands on her waist. Still, she suspects it’s all bravado, as he stumbles stiff legged off the bike when they reach his apartment. 

But as to be expected from a seasoned athlete used to the spotlight, he manages to plaster on a grin, cocky and charming enough to make her blush. 

‘Thanks for the ride’, he says. ‘I wouldn’t mind coming out again with you for a ride sometime’. 

Then he smiles at her, and it’s soft, shorn of the sharp edges she’s used to seeing. It plants an unfamiliar seed of warmth in her core that survives her race home against the storm.

[sierraraeck]

Struck by Lightning

Derek x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: After breaking up with your boyfriend, you go out for a girls night. Unfortunately, he follows you to the club to try and win you back. To show him just how over him you are, you kiss the first stranger you see walking through the door. Luckily for you, that man is a sculpted god of chocolate thunder.

Category: Spicy fluff

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol. Age gap between adults (maybe like 10ish years) but I never actually mention it lol. Some cussing.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: This was inspired by the song “Guys My Age” by Hey Violet. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. This is also for @fortheloveofcriminalminds 600 follower celebration! The prompt “in the likely event that this all goes pear shaped, just remember I told you so” is in bold!

“I finally did it,” you told your friend over the phone.

“You did!” she squealed. “You dumped Brody? I’m so proud of you!”

You laughed, “Thanks, Jess. God, I was just so tired of his bullshit. He never wanted to do anything but hang around his house with his friends, ya know?”

“Yeah, I do know,” Jess responded very dramatically. “I’m so glad you’re done with him! This calls for celebration!”

“Oh god,” you mumbled, knowing exactly what that entailed. Jess was always a bit excited when it came to celebrating. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes! Girls night!” The high frequency of her voice nearly blew your eardrums out. “There’s this new bar and club downtown that I’ve been dying to check out. I’m going to call the girls!”

Without getting another word in, she hung up, leaving you no choice but to start getting ready for what you were sure would be a wild night.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

Wild would not be the word you’d use to describe the night so far. Irritating would be more accurate.

Not even ten minutes after you’d arrived, Brody and his asshat friends showed up too. Of course, they couldn’t just keep their distance like any normal person who’d just been dumped would, maybe a normal person would even leave to go to a different club, but no. The first thing Brody did was approach you, sliding into the barstool next to you.

You could smell the alcohol and weed on his breath when he said, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Go away, Brody,” you deadpanned. You’d finally gotten away from your immature, never-wants-to-do-anything boyfriend who never put you first, who now all the sudden that you’re gone, decides to start making an effort. And of course it had to be on the night that you were celebrating the single life again that he just had to show up.

“Don’t be like that, babe,” he said, reaching out to touch you.

You scooted out of reach of him, “Don’t touch me.”

“Come on, baby, we used to have a lot of fun. Let me remind you of that,” he said, leaning in to kiss you.

You put your hand in the way and pushed his face away from yours. “I would literally rather kiss anyone other than you,” you spat.

“You don’t mean that,” Brody tried to schmooze.

“Yes I do.”

“Oh really? Prove it,” he challenged.

“Come on, Y/N, let’s just go. He’s not worth it,” Jess told you, your two other friends at her sides.

But you were too competitive for that. Plus, this was your girls night out, at the club that Jess had been dying to see for ages now, and you weren’t going to let your stupid ex ruin that. So you accepted by saying, “I will. Next person who walks through that door.”

Brody shrugged, a smug smile on his face. “Fine. Let’s see it.”

You eyed the door as Jess leaned in and whispered, “In the likely event that this all goes pear shaped, just remember I told you so.”

You rolled your eyes, still facing the door. Then you saw movement behind the glass, the door swinging open to reveal the person you’d fated yourself to kiss.

And holy shit. You don’t think you’ve ever been so lucky in your life. The honest to god hottest man you’d ever seen walked through the door. He was tall, broad shoulders accompanying his strong build, and when you saw him turn and smile at the rest of what you assumed were his friends walking through the door, you thought you might pass out. He had to have been sculpted by Zeus himself.

You were staring in shock, as if you’d been struck by lightning, almost forgetting you had a small wager on the line. Jess gave you a small nudge, springing your feet into action.

You couldn’t believe you were about to do this. But, you strutted up to the man still partially in the doorway with confidence like you’d never had before, the group of people facing your way tracking your movements. The man himself had barely enough time to turn around and register you walking toward him before you reached up behind his neck and pulled him just slightly down to you. You smashed your lips to his with a bit more force than you intended, and could feel the shock coming from everyone around you.

They weren’t the only ones to be surprised, though. In only a matter of seconds, without pulling back to ask any questions, he started kissing you back. It caught you a little off guard, to be honest, thinking you were just going to kiss him and awkwardly walk away. But he kissed you back. Like really kissed you back. His lips were soft and smooth, and before you could fully register it, your tongues were exploring each other’s mouths, pushing and pulling in a way you’d never felt before. One of his hands rested on your jaw and the other snaked around your back, spurring on your confidence enough to place your other hand on his very firm, and very muscular chest.

You weren’t sure how long the kiss lasted, but you felt like you had to pull back when one of his friends cleared their throat. You looked into his dark, cocoa eyes now that you could really admire his face close up, and he was looking at you with a mix of confusion and wonder.

You bit your lip and turned to quickly glance at the brunette who’d cleared her throat. She was pressing her lips together to suppress a smile, but wasn’t failing dreadfully at it.

You turned your attention back to the man in front of you, still looking at you in awe. Running on pure adrenaline and confidence, you slowly looked him up and down, then let out a satisfied sigh. “Not bad,” you muttered to yourself, barely loud enough for him to hear it. You ran both your hands down his chest and flirtatiously continued, “Not bad at all.”

You easily slid out of his grasp and winked over your shoulder as you strutted away.

You heard the woman who’d cleared her throat say, “I know you’re Derek Morgan, and I know you’re a catch, but has that ever happened to you?”

You peered over your shoulder and saw him staring at you. Derek, you now knew his name to be, shook his head just slightly and mumbled, “Never.”

You quickly turned away, not wanting any of them to see your grin as you practically bounced back to your seat at the bar. Brody was nowhere to be found.

Jess was slack jawed, eyebrows almost lost in her hairline. You teased, “What was that you were saying about things going wrong? Something about telling me so or..?”

Jess pulled herself together and feigned annoyance, “Oh shut up. You know you got hella lucky.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “I know.”

“Seriously, Y/N, what the hell was that?”

You shook your head, feeling as in awe as the man you’d kissed only moments ago had looked. “I have no idea.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You eyed each other for the next hour or so, neither of you being too inconspicuous about. You’d been on the dance floor while him and his group were at a bar table. He finally approached you when you’d taken a break to get another drink.

He walked up to you and leaned against the side of the bar you’d just order from. He hadn’t said anything yet, so, without looking at him, you filled the airspace. “You know it’s considered rude.”

“Excuse me?” he questioned. It was the first time you’d really heard his voice, and it was a deep velvety sound you wanted to remember.

“It’s considered rude to stare,” you started, turning to face him, “Especially if you’re not going to buy the next drink.”

He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, “Is that so?”

You simply nodded as the bartender brought you your drink. He had already fished out a twenty, holding it up between two of his fingers. He never took his eyes off you as the bartender took the cash and you sipped at the liquid in your glass.

“That’s a little better,” you teased.

You stood there leaning against the bar shamelessly looking each other over for another moment before he spoke up again, “I’m Derek Morgan.”

“I know,” you stated, flashing him a smile. He looked at you expectantly, but you weren’t about to give anything up.

He sighed a little, but gave you a small smile when he asked, “Well, if you won’t tell me your name, would you at least like to dance with me?”

You opened your mouth in fake surprise, “Ooh, so you’re a trade off kinda guy.”

He quickly backtracked, “No, that’s not-”

You laughed, cutting him off. “It’s okay, I like a little trade off. How about I dance with you, and if I’m any good, you put your number in my phone. If I’m not, I’ll tell you my name.”

He smirked, “Deal.”

Derek offered his hand and you gave him a small smirk as you took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

You both started rhythmically moving to the deafening beat, sharing glances and mimicking movements. The two of you owned the dance floor, people from all across the bar looking your way, but neither of you bothered to notice. You were way too caught up in each other, slowing moving closer and closer as you danced.

Being around him was electric, and each time your skin touched his it sent shock waves through your body, as if the man himself was made from lightning. You were becoming more and more convinced that he was handcrafted by the gods themselves.

You couldn’t remember how long you’d been on the dance floor, but when Derek dragged you off, it seemed like you could have wasted endless time in your own world out there. He was a great dancer, and you loved that he was more than willing to dance with you. Not enough men were interested in dancing like he seemed to be.

He pulled you off to the side in a low traffic, dark hallway. His whole figure seemed to glow despite the dim lighting, and the only real sound was your labored breathing above the muffled bass.

Derek’s eyes raked from your eyes down to your lips, so it was no surprise when his actions followed his gaze. His lips were on yours, and your back was in contact with the wall in a flash. He kissed you with more passion and vigour than the first time, completely dominating the kiss. You didn’t mind, wrapping your arms around his neck to get as close to him as you possibly could and then some. Your heart was racing as you tried to cling to the feeling, ignoring your lung’s cry for air.

Derek was the one who pulled away, but only to trail kisses down your neck, giving you enough time to catch your breath. “Hey, hey,” you whispered. He looked up at you with curious eyes, “Does this mean I won our little trade off?”

A hearty chuckle escaped his chest making your knees weak and he beamed at you as he answered, “I guess it does.”

You grabbed a wad of his shirt and pulled his lips to yours again, then released it to take his hand. You led him from the hallway and back to the bar where you’d left your phone, handing it to him. After he’d typed in his number, one of his friends from earlier, the same brunette, approached the two of you. Derek gave her a defeated look and she nodded her head. He sighed, an entire conversation you couldn’t follow happening in front of you. She shrugged and walked away.

When Derek’s attention was back on you, he said, “It looks like I have to go. But is there really nothing I can do to convince you to give me your name?”

You shook your head with a cheeky smile, “I guess you’ll just have to wait for a phone call.”

“You know,” he started with a joking tone, “I work for the FBI and could probably get your name if I wanted to.”

You laughed, “Is that where you’re off to?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he answered with dry humor.

“Interesting.” He gave you a look but you shrugged. “Makes sense, though, I’d pegged you as more of a SWAT guy.” He laughed and you couldn’t help but join him.

“Morgan, let’s go!” a blonde this time yelled to him.

He rolled his eyes, completely ignoring her and said, “I hope I hear from you soon.”

“Hang in there, Agent Derek Morgan,” you teased.

He flashed you that award-winning smile before turning to leave. You watched him all the way out the door, and once he got there, turned back to look at you. He smiled to himself again and left, rubbing the back of his neck as he did so.

Something about the energy in the room changed when he was gone, like all the electricity had followed him out. You were sure, then, that he wasn’t just created by Zeus, but had to have been Zeus himself. And you couldn’t wait to be struck by the lightning of his presence again.

Taglist

@90spumkin

[mister-supernova]

Trust In Me

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader

“You’re joking. You’re telling me, ME,--your oh so dearest best friend in this universe--that you’re not going to help us play against the Timberwolves even though you’re a freaking tribrid? You have all the powerups you can get and you’re choosing not to use them! What kind of madness is that, Marshall?”

“Professor Saltzman doesn’t let any of you use your abilities anyways, so there’s no real point in me helping the team, is there?”

You feel your eyes roll so far back you're surprised they didn’t fall out, “Come on! Do you have any idea what kind of badass duo we’d be out there?”

“Nope and I don’t intend on finding-”

“We’d be unstoppable! Those asshat Timberwolves won’t know what hit them on that field! You have to play at least one game while you’re at school here! Please!”

Hope responds to your argument with silence and a look on her face that you clearly read as, I’m not playing no matter how much you beg.

You knew there wasn’t any way of getting through to her thick skin, so you accepted your defeat. “Okay, fine,” you huff, taking a seat right next to Hope at the edge of your bed, “You’re still going to cheer me on though, right? I mean, it’s the least you could do.”

She takes an agonizingly long time thinking of her answer while looking at the hopeful ‘puppy dog’ look in your eyes. The longer she took, the bigger you made your eyes which eventually broke Hope into giving you a heartwarming smile, “Yes, I’ll be silently cheering you on.”

You smile back, “That’s all I need, Marshall.”

The alarm tone from your phone jolts you awake from another one of your vivid dreams. After meeting Hope outside the Grill the other night, your dreams have become more realistic than ever before.

They’re almost beginning to feel too real. Maybe the clarification of you knowing Hope is real influenced your brain into putting her into more lifelike dream scenarios.

It didn’t surprise you that the topic of conversation in the dream was about the annual Stallions versus Timberwolves game since it’s happening today. Even though your team has been notorious for losing on purpose every single year, you still liked the not-so-friendly competition between the rival schools.

At this morning's assembly, you were happy to hear your new headmaster’s announcement about banning the ‘throw the game’ rule. Josie seemed to be the only teammate who was hesitant about the sudden change, but everyone else was ecstatic.

The thing that threw you off the most during the assembly was Vardamus assigning Landon as the quarterback. See, you loved the guy and he’s one of your good friends here at the school, but you know damn well that his athletic ability is as good as a decapitated zombie--on either half--and even that was saying much.

You weren’t just saying this to bash on your friend because he was proving your analysis of him correct on the field as the team was warming up. You and Josie were helplessly trying to help him catch the ball after a snap.

Thankfully she has more patience with Landon than you because at this rate it didn’t look like you guys were winning this game either.

“Sorry. Foster care didn’t have a football team.” Landon grumbles after having the ball bounce off his chest.

“At least you didn’t let it hit you in the face this time,” you shrug, earning a searing glare from Josie, “I’ll go warm up over here now.”

You quickly excused yourself and ended up jogging over to Lizzie who was sitting on the bench with a stack of books by her side. First, Landon is your quarterback for the day and now you see Lizzie reading right now instead of warming up.

“What’s going on here? I thought you’d be pissed at Vardamus for giving Landon your QB spot.”

“I’m on a different kind of mission today, Y/n,” she says as you watch her flip through a book of monsters and that gives you the information you needed to know what this was about.

Coincidentally enough, Lizzie also met a new and mysterious stranger the same day you met Hope. The two of you bonded for the past few days over your slightly similar situations which you felt was very weird but also kind of cool.

“There’s no way Sebastian is like us and I’m determined to figure out just what he is.”

“And you couldn’t do this--hm, I don’t know--after the game today?” You ask in urgency for her to play today, “I mean, seriously Lizzie, this could be huge for us.”

“What’s wrong with Landon being your QB?”

Your eyes widen in shock, “Are you kidding? Just look at him!”

The both of you direct your attention to Landon on the field as Josie hands him the football. You prepare yourself for disaster as he winds his arm back, but then you find yourself proven wrong as you watch the distance the ball was being thrown. It seemed to soar through the sky for what felt like hours before bouncing off of a window from the Timberwolves’ bus.

“Looks like he has the magic touch now,” Lizzie says knowingly before returning to her book while you continue to stare at the bus in shock.

Right before you decided it was the best time to look away, a familiar someone seems to catch your eye instead. Walking down the steps of your rival school’s bus was none other than Hope Marshall.

“No way,” you muttered to yourself, unsure if you should be happy to see her again or concerned that she’s on the team you’re playing against.

Absentmindedly, you slowly started drifting away from your spot by Lizzie and felt yourself being pulled in Hope’s direction. You had to get closer to clarify that she was who you were seeing and not some sick mirage you’ve created in your brain.

“L/n!” Dorian jumps in front of you, breaking your trance and blocking your path towards the opposing team, “Save any trash talk for the game. I don’t need you picking a fight with the other players before we even start.”

You had built yourself a reputation for these annual games and were known for getting kicked out due to foul plays off the field, “But Mr. Williams I was just-”

“That’s Coach Williams today, L/n. Back to your side. Go on!” He rushes you away and though you are strong enough to push past him, you’d rather play then be a benchwarmer for the rest of the day.

An annoyed growl rumbles in the back of your throat as you try to catch one more glimpse of Hope, but you were blocked by Dorian’s clipboard.

Josie can clearly see the longing anticipation in your eyes as you join your team’s side of the field. You looked like a lost kid in a mall looking for their parents, “Everything okay, Y/n?”

“Do you remember those drawings from my sketchbook this summer? The ones of that girl, but all you can really see are her eyes and hair?” You ask her in a hushed voice.

She nods, “Yeah, the one you said you’ve been seeing in your dreams.”

“Okay, well I met her the night of our first day back at school. She’s real and she’s here with the Timberwolves,” Josie furrows her eyebrows at you.

“So you met her before your dreams?”

“No. That’s the thing, I’ve never seen her in town before the other night and after all my dreams. I know for damn sure that I’d remember her being on our rival school’s football team given how many times I’ve tried kicking their asses every year.”

“Maybe she’s a new student this year? You very well could’ve seen her at the Grill this summer without even realizing it. Our brains only need to see a face once for them to show up in our dreams.”

“Josie, I swear on everything in my life that it’s-”

The referee’s whistle rings your ears as he calls for everyone’s attention, “Stallions! Timberwolves! Both teams meet in the middle for the coin toss!”

You and Josie sigh knowing that you’d have to put a pin in this conversation, “You ready?” She asks.

You nod, doing a few quick stretches since you didn’t get a lot of warm up time and to prepare yourself for seeing Hope again, “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

A wave of excitement filled your chest as you walked with Josie towards the middle of the field. The bashful smile on your face was hard to contain once your eyes landed back on Hope who you could clarify was very much real and very much here in front of you once more.

“Oh, wow,” Josie mutters with surprise from beside you.

“I told you I liked my chances, Marshall,” you smirk, gaining a small tight lipped smile from Hope in return.

“I guess today was your lucky day, then. Not for long, though,” she challenged, playfully squinting her eyes at you.

You lean your body slightly forward with a confident grin, “We’ll see about that.”

Your teammates share a confused look at the interaction they were witnessing between you two. “I see you’re... familiar with each other,” Hope’s teammate chimes in.

With a shrug you say, “We’re practically married. Isn’t that right, Marshall?”

Hope shakes her head at you, biting her lip to keep her mouth shut long enough for Vardamus to stand between your two teams and break your friendly banter.

With a little sprinkle of magic from Josie, your team won the coin toss with ease so the Stallions would be receiving the ball at the start.

“Okay, what was that?” Josie asks as the two of you walk back to your side of the field.

“What? Did you want me to call heads instead?”

“No! Not that. You and that girl.”

“I told you we met the other night,” you shrug, “and her name is Hope for your information.”

“That was not an interaction from two people who’ve only had one conversation, Y/n. Not to mention she really does look like the girl from your drawings. Are you sure you haven’t met before?”

“That’s what I was telling you and yes, I’m positive that I’ve never interacted with her prior to the other night. You think that if I hadn’t seen or met her at the Grill during the summer that we wouldn’t be best friends by now?”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me! I know you’re labeled as the social butterfly and all, but that must’ve been some long conversation if that’s how you’re acting around each other.”

You pause to think about it for a moment, “Actually it was only about ten minutes.”

“WHAT?!”

The conversation was cut short by the sound of the ref’s whistle signaling you all to line up for kickoff. You jog away to your position before Josie can interrogate you any longer and wait for the game to begin.

Stallions were able to use magic to their advantage and gain points within the first play which was something you never thought you’d see during your time here. As everyone repositions into defense, you notice that Hope is the quarterback for the Timberwolves.

“Okay, Y/n. I’m about to suggest something you may or may not like,” Josie says from next to you.

“Don’t worry, I got the QB,” you grin, gaining Hope’s attention. She notices the mischievous look in your eyes and almost looks as if she knows what you’re up to, making her a little nervous.

“Like it is, I guess,” Jo huffs.

Once the football reached Hope’s hands, you made a b-line towards her, quick to avoid any other players who were blocking your way. Careful not to crush her during the fall, you took Hope by the waist and spun the both of you to the ground.

Your tackle didn’t do much good given that she was still able to pass the ball. Whether it got to her teammate or not you weren’t too sure of at the moment because Hope’s body was literally tangled with yours.

With her one hand against your chest and the other keeping her propped up on the grass, Hope’s face was almost an inch away from you. Feeling her breathing heavily on your face, you oddly felt like you’ve been in this exact position before.

“Bet you enjoyed doing that, huh?” Hope speaks up, getting you to huff out a chuckle.

“Well it wasn’t the preferred way I wanted to take you out, per say, but a little bit, yeah,” you smile, getting her to laugh in return.

Being in this position with someone you’ve talked to so briefly should feel awkward, but for whatever reason it just felt right. If it weren’t for the fact that you were playing in a football match, you’d probably want to stay like this for a while longer.

Suddenly, Hope’s eyes widen as she quickly rolls off you and begins wincing in pain while grabbing at her ankle.

“Are you okay?” You ask while sitting up.

“Ah, I don’t know. I-I think it’s sprained,” she lightly groans, scrunching up her face.

“Shit, Marshall. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I-” you shake your head, pushing yourself to your feet before reaching out to help Hope up, “here, I can help take you to the nurse if you want.”

“It’s okay. I can find it,” she shakes her head and she takes note of the worried look in your eye knowing that you had hurt her, “Hey, seriously Y/n, it’s fine. I’ll be okay.” Hope squeezes your arm and gives you a reassuring look before limping off the field.

You watched as she walked away, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. You were sure that you were careful while pulling her to the ground. Hope didn’t seem to be in any sort of pain for the first few seconds after tackling her.

“You know she faked her injury right?” Josie pops in out of nowhere, making your heart nearly burst out of your chest.

“Jesus, Jo,” you take a deep breath before taking in her inquisition, “And you think so?”

“Yeah and I don’t know why, but maybe you should keep an eye on her.”

“Why? Do you think she’ll steal some snacks from the kitchen?” You jokingly ask.

“Well, you started having dreams of her after Malivore was destroyed and now she seems to be oddly gravitated to this town and our school. I’m just saying that you should be a little more careful about trusting her so fast.”

Though you haven’t felt anything off-putting about Hope, Josie had an annoyingly excellent point. “I guess I’m on watch duty, then. Find a sub for me.”

It was shocking to see that Hope had gotten so far ahead of you that you weren’t even in running distance from her. Oddly fishy for someone who just sprained their ankle. Even as you walked into the school, there was no sign of her in the halls or the nurse’s office.

There was one thing that stuck out--a familiar scent that you had smelled in that vacant dorm room this summer. Only this time it was a lot stronger than when you first caught it.

Out of curiosity, you followed the smell just to see if it would lead you anywhere. Crazily enough, it didn’t take you to the vacant room like you thought it would, but to Landon and Raf’s dorm room instead.

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers when you see Hope sitting cross-legged in front of a map that she was currently dripping her own blood onto.

“Hope?”

She quickly turns around and stands, startled by the sound of your voice, “Y/n! Uh, I um, this isn’t what it--”

“Isn’t what it looks like? Right. Well, it looks like you faked an injury to sneak into the school. It looks like you forgot to mention you were a witch the other night. It also looks like you’re doing a locator spell in my missing friend’s room.”

Hope remains silent for a couple of seconds, almost taken back by the passive way you were speaking to her, “Okay, maybe it’s exactly what it looks like.”

You huff out a sigh in disbelief, letting Josie’s suspicions about Hope sink into your head now.

“I’m not here to hurt you or anyone else here, Y/n. I promise, I’m trying to help. Dr. Saltzman asked me to do a locator spell on Rafael so that I can help him return to his human form.”

You give her a questioning look, “We’ve been looking for a way to turn him back for months now. What makes you think you can?”

“Because I know more about the Crescent Wolf Clan than anyone else here.”

You raise a brow, “That wolf pack in New Orleans? If you know so much about it, wouldn’t that make you a…” then the realization sets in.

Hope sees that you’re still skeptical, “Look, I can’t explain everything right now, but I really need you to trust me, Y/n.”

Most of the context clues told you that trusting someone you’ve only known for less than a day was a terrible, terrible idea, but your heart wouldn’t let you believe that.

As much as you shouldn’t, you trusted Hope more than anything.

You exhale, “Okay, Marshall. I’m trusting you. Is there anything you need me to do?”

Hope gives you a grateful smile, “Keep an eye on Landon. There’s a werewolf-eating monster out in the woods and I have no idea if it will be after him, too,” she says, walking past you and into the hallway.

Again, you’re confused with even more new information, “Wait, there’s a what in the woods? And how do you know the monster would be after Landon?” Hope ignores your questions, continuing to speed walk in front of you, “Marshall!”

A lot of events took place within the next couple of hours. You did as Hope asked and watched Landon back at the game which seemed pretty boring at first.

Josie took you by surprise as you witnessed her break another player’s arm with a spell mid-play, but to be fair it didn’t look like she realized what she was doing until the damage was done.

If that wasn't physically violent enough, there was a huge mosh fight between both schools after the game was over. You tried getting out of the crossfire because the last thing you needed was detention for being involved in something you didn’t mean to be a part of.

That didn’t go as planned seeing as one of the Timberwolves was able to punch a mean hook on your right cheek before you could scramble out of there. Most of the redness faded by the end of the night, but it was still a little sore whenever you poked at it.

Hope was able to return Raf back to his human form just like she said she would. He explained how this “mysterious girl” saved his life then you and your friends gave him a warm welcome back to humanity.

After cleaning yourself up, you snuck out of the school’s building to find Hope sitting out at one of the piers where she told you to meet her before parting ways earlier.

You could tell she had cleaned up as well judging by the change of clothes and seeing that her hair was no longer tied up in braids, but now flowing down over her shoulders.

“Well, today was eventful, huh?” You speak up, groaning as you take a seat next to her.

“Oh, my God. Y/n, your face!” Hope exclaims.

“You know you can just call me ugly, Marshall. There’s no need for you to act all aghast about it.” You tease.

“No, I mean the gash on your cheek.” She reaches for your face to observe your wound more clearly.

You let her lightly trace along the edge of the bump, almost unfazed by the contact, “Oh right, that.”

“What kind of altercation did you get yourself into?”

You scoff, looking more hurt by the question rather than the punch to your face, “Bold of you to assume it was me who initiated the altercation, Marshall.”

“Well, you just seem like the type is all.” She looks at you with a teasing look in her eyes.

“What a kind and accurate assumption you have of me there, but for the record I wasn’t the one who started the fight. Everyone just started going at each other after the game and I got caught in the crossfire.”

There’s a very noticeable shift in Hope’s mood and you can tell that she was genuinely worried about you getting hurt. All she could think about was the last time you were caught in the crossfire and how it nearly cost you your life. You didn’t know that, of course, but you felt the need to reassure her.

“You’re cute when you’re worried, Marshall, but I’m fine. I promise, a punch to the face is like a slap on the wrist. You should know the healing process is quite fast for a werewolf.” You give her a knowing look.

Hope’s eyes widen in realization, making her finally pull her hand away from your face. “You caught onto that, huh?”

“I figured it out once you mentioned the Crescent Wolves. Raf only confirmed it when he explained how this mysterious werewitch saved his life,” Hope looks down at her lap looking like a kid who got caught in a lie, “Thank you, by the way. For bringing my friend back.”

She meets your gaze again, giving you a tight lipped smile, “You’re welcome.”

“You know it’s too bad you didn’t have me helping you out there. Given that we’ve got a pretty good thing going on here, we could’ve made a badass team.”

“You got punched in the face by a human. How do you think you would’ve stood against a monster that actively wanted to kill you?”

“That’s the whole point of being a team. One runs around failing miserably while the other pulls the weight.”

Hope scrunches her eyebrows together, “That’s literally not what being a team is supposed to be like at all.”

“Seriously?” You ask cluelessly, “Damn, well I guess I’ve been doing it wrong all this time.”

She laughs and for the first time you notice the way her eyes squint together when she really lets herself smile. It sparked a feeling in you that you hadn’t felt before.

“You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t you, Marshall?” You speak up in a playful tone, lightly bumping her shoulder, “Has our 24-hour friendship meant nothing to you? I mean, seriously, how could you not tell me you were a hybrid?”

Hope gives you an appalled scoff, “You didn’t tell me you were a werewolf. Looks like we both hid something from each other last night.”

You stare at her for a second, squinting your eyes as you analyze her, “Hmm. Touche, Marshall.”

She lets out another laugh and this time you swear you can feel your heart begin to grow.

Gosh, she’s really beautiful.

You wished you could say the words aloud. Part of you was surprised that you couldn’t given how bold you’ve been with Hope regardless of the little amount of time you’ve known her.

As much as you wanted to make some sort of move now, you felt you had to draw the line somewhere.

“Y/n, you’re staring.” Hope tells you in a voice that was just above a whisper.

You blink yourself back to reality, “Sorry,” you say with your voice just as hushed, “It’s just that… I think…” For the first time in your life you have no idea what to say. No witty comment or dumb remark.

You searched her deep blue eyes for an answer you couldn’t find. If anything you felt even more lost the longer you looked into them.

I really want to kiss you right now. Your mouth was open, but no words were willing to come out.

For a second you swore you saw Hope begin to lean forward, but the moment ended rather abruptly thanks to your cell phone ringer.

“Jesus,” you flinch yourself back into reality once again before picking up the phone, “Hello?”

“Y/n, where the hell are you? Vardamus has done a room check twice now and says you haven’t been answering your door.” Lizzie frantically asks you.

“I’ll be there in a second. Just cover for me if he’s still lurking in the halls and tell him I’m knocked out from today’s game.”

“Fine, just hurry your ass up!” She whisper-shouts before hanging up.

You let out a deep and exaggerated sigh, “Well, fun’s over, Marshall,” you grin sadly, “It’s pumpkin time.”

She returns a soft smile back at you, “I guess this is goodbye.”

“I’ll only say goodbye if it means we’re gonna say hello again,” you tell her as you rise to your feet.

“Well, then let's not say goodbye,” she says while you help her up, “Maybe if we just say goodnight instead, that's gotta mean we'll see each other again.”

You look down at her with a smirk, “That's all I need, Marshall.”

Hope rolls her eyes with a smile she couldn't contain. Just when you thought she’d walk away, she takes you by surprise as she presses a small kiss on your wounded cheek, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You bite the sides of your cheeks to keep your smirk from turning into the goofiest looking smile you could possibly imagine, “Goodnight, Hope,” you say, finally turning back to make your way towards the school.

At this point, you couldn’t tell if the heat in your face was from the kiss or the punch.

~

taglist: @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch @sodangtired @idek-5

heyooo i know it's been a minute, but i hope you enjoyed this slightly longer chapter... again, i can't say how long it'll be until part 7 but i'll get to working on it as soon as possible! thanks for all your love and support for this series everyone, it really means a lot to me <3

[buckys-other-punk]

 Merciless

Pairing: Asshole Ex-Boyfriend!Chris Evans x Reader

Request: Could I have a part 2 to Insensitive were the reader comes back and she’s a bad bleep?

Summary: A couple months after their breakup, Y/N has changed since the last time Chris saw her. 

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: mentions of previous cheating, alcohol, cussing, mentions of sex, and badass reader aka justice lol I don't know 

A/N: Hello! Thank you @vanillabqrnes​ for the request apologies for this taking forever and I hope you like this! Also sorry to those who follow me, I promised to write more and that didn’t happen, but here’s something lol. Whenever I wanna write I open my computer and then bam writers block. Also please don’t mind any minor mistakes this is unedited. Anyways hope you enjoy and I’ll meet with you at the end of the fic ; ) 

Previous Part

It had been six months since your breakup with Chris and honestly you were doing great. I mean at first after all the rage you remembered the good memories from your relationship. While recalling those “good”memories you realized that four months prior to you finding out he cheated that he had been acting strange and distant. But you’ve moved on and could care less about that asshat.

You quickly moved on and actually you’ve completely changed your mentality when it comes to relationships. You have started to become more comfortable with yourself and not let anyone walk over you. Your closest friends have noticed your change in demeanor and they love it. They have literally called you a badass heartbreaker, solely because you have turned down almost every guy who reminded you of your asshole ex-boyfriend.

With your new look and attitude you were able to find the perfect match for you. You met your boyfriend, Henry *cough Henry Cavill cough*, at a party hosted by a mutual friend. The two of you were trying to avoid the crowd which didn’t help since the two of you were seated at the bar. You both had people flock towards you offering to buy drinks, which you both rejected. The two of you noticed one another when a woman asked Henry for his number, he declined, then she started flirting with you. You shook your head and scoffed, turning her down as you stood from your seat. You walked closer to the man taking a seat right next to him. After that the two of you had a pleasant conversation about who had the most people to hit on them, you won, and then the rest is history.

Your new relationship was completely different from your previous one. Henry adores you, treating you way better than you know who ever did. Also lets just say the sex was clearly better and you learned new things about yourself with your boyfriend. You never really got to explore that side of you when you were with Chris. He would be the one to take charge and never let you try something new.

Anyways you and Henry were actually going to lunch at one of your favorite fancy restaurants. Opting to sit near the open glass window you ordered your food. You didn’t give a fuck how these rich people were staring at you because you were wearing. You wore a long leather coat showing the right amount of cleavage and thigh high black boots. Henry wore a white button up shirt that clung to his muscles and dark blue dress pants. You laughed at a joke that Henry made, you glanced out the window and your eyes widened. Henry looked outside and he felt his blood start to boil.

*Chris’ POV*

After the break up the infamous Chris Evans was having a slightly rough time. He still didn’t understand what he did wrong. Then about a few months later Brittany, his second girlfriend while dating you, dumped Chris because she apparently found a better, richer man. Chris had been miserable in his house ever since. He thought about calling you after his break up with Brittany, but then he thought a grand gesture would be better. So he ordered the most expensive bouquet of roses and had them delivered to your house. 

A letter was immediately sent back saying that you had moved out of your small apartment, but the man who lived there kept the expensive flowers. Chris yelled out in frustration which startled his maid. She tried to comfort him telling him what he wanted to hear, that you would eventually come back to him, but deep down she knew that what she said was a lie. She knew about what her boss had been doing, but Chris offered to pay her to keep quiet.

Chris never stopped thinking about you. He would walk by your old apartment, sometimes even drunk. The man who lived there always saw him through his window feeling a bit bad for Chris, but assuming he probably deserved the heartbreak. As more months passed Chris decided that drinking would help numb the pain. It didn’t, drinking honestly made him think about you even more. Thoughts and images of you flooded his head and he didn’t know if he wanted them to stop or continue.

Chris decided that going out with other women would help, the break up messed his game. He would accidentally call his new girlfriends your name and some would stare at him with a blank face and the rest would ignore it. Eventually he found a woman who resembled you to the tee. The two of them were together for a while and Chris was kind for getting tired of her because she wasn’t you. He decided to go to a fancy restaurant to make reservations for their most elegant seating to break her heart. That’s when he saw you through the window with a man.

----------------------------

Henry looks back at you, “Is that?” You nodded your head and stood up from your seat. “Be nice.” he huffed as he remained in his seat unfolding the napkin on the table and placing it on his lap.

You stormed out of the restaurant stopping Chris from entering. Chris was shocked by how you dressed, he never saw you dress like that before. You saw Chris eye your entire body looking from your head to toes stopping at your chest.

“What do you want?” you harshly said crossing your arms over each other.

“Obviously, I’m here to make a reservation.” he snarkily replied. “How was I supposed to know you would be here?” 

“Bitch, I don’t know?!” you exclaimed. “It’s not like this is my favorite restaurant.”

“Again, how was I supposed to know that?” Chris angrily replied.

“Seriously?!” you huffed. “You’re still a dick you know that?”

“So what? You gonna teach me a lesson?” he flirtatiously said.

“God, you’re disgusting.” saying as you turned away from him.

“Wait,” he stopped you, grabbing your arm and pointing to the window, “who’s that you’re with?” 

Snatching your arm back from him. “That is my boyfriend, no begone.” you said shooing him away not caring about the people who were staring.

“Boyfriend? I bet he doesn’t treat you as well as I did.” he says c, crossing his arms. You slapped his face hard and shook your head.

“Oh, you're one to talk.” you yelled back at him. “You never changed, did you? You’re still an asshole prick that just wants a nice woman by his side to make him feel better about himself.”

“That’s not true!” he exclaimed.

“Oh really? Then tell me the real reason why you’re here?” you questioned looking at the man.

“As a matter of fact I’m taking my girlfriend here.” he replied with a smirk.

“Yeah, to break up with her?” you asked, shaking your head.

“How’d you know that?” He placed his hands on his hips.

“Because that’s what you did to the girl you dated before me, asshole.” you exclaimed.

“Well, why not after I break up with my current girl, you and I find a nice place to properly talk.” he smirked at you.

You walked closer to him and he smiled as he felt your chest against his. He looked down at your cleavage and back up to your face smiling even more. You put your hand on his shoulder smiling at him and that’s when you kneed him in the crotch.

“Go find someone else to feed your ego. I’m busy.” you said as you walked back to the restaurant and your boyfriend.

As you sat down on your seat, your boyfriend placed a kiss on your cheek. “Were you nice?” he asked, taking a sip of his wine.

“I tried to be.” you huffed as you looked out the window staring at your ex who laid on the ground in pain.

“Well, looks like I need to teach you some manners then.” he smirked.

“You sure do.” you smiled, winking back at him.

A/N: Ahhh hello!! How was that? I feel like this wasn’t my best but at the same time not bad. lol I literally have no clue how to write a bad bitch reader (because i ain’t one), but hopefully I did this request justice! Thank you for reading and lemme know what you though of this. Feedback is very much appreciated and lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my stuff!

Taglist:  @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​ @sebtheromanianprince​ @aquabrie @who-the-hell-is-sebastianstan​  @anbrax5553​ @wintersoldierissucharide​ @caplanbuckybarnes​ @miraclesoflove​ @kitkatd7​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @fandomsandxfiles​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​

^^please lemme know if you wanna be added/removed for future tags or dm me if I forgot you^^

[jamiedc-they-them]

Choices you (and us) stand by (Platonic)

Requested Imagine - An operation that brings you back home after being cleared is met by some resistance. But, your friends are there to help.

You had been in the hospital for a bit now. You had been resting, but your friends had made an effort to see you when Malivore wasn’t spitting out monsters.

You appreciate it, really. You really did like seeing your family.

Plus, you felt better with this operation. And they had supported you the whole way, even going with you when the operation came.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw Lizzie smiling at you. You ignored the slightly creepy factor, and just smiled at her, “Hey.” You greeted, voice still groggy from not fully being awake yet.

“Hey back,” She said back. You heard her happiness, and your smile grew; she was doing better, it seemed. You were happy for her, really.

And, by the shine in her eyes, you saw that her feelings for you were vice versa. She saw how much more comfortable you looked now.

“Dad and the others would’ve come. But –”

“Malivore?”  You guessed, “Look, Liz. It’s cool, I get it. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. But, I needed this. I know not everyone is, but I don’t think Malivore would go that low. If they did, I know I’m happy with it.”

Lizzie nodded, but didn’t answer your guess. She just held out a hand, “Doc says it’s time to go. So, what you say, ready to go home?”

You looked at your friend, and smiled hugely this time, “Ready.” You confirmed, taking her hand.

The drive back wasn’t too long, but it was filled with idol chatter about what you had missed. It wasn’t too much, just the norm.

What you knew, and what Lizzie told you, was that Hope had redone your room for you. You knew your sister would do a lot for you, but you didn’t expect that.

“And, here we are.” Lizzie announced as she parked the car. Together you got out. And, as expected, there was your two other sisters awaiting you with a little banner in their hands.

You smiled, and the Josie used a spell to keep the banner up as they hugged you, minding to not rip any stitching.

“Wow, you look great.” Josie complimented as she pulled away from the hug.

“Yeah, you look amazing, Y/N.” Hope agreed, beaming smile on her face. It was unusual for her, but she mainly reserved it for you. And she knew this was a big moment.

“Where’s Alaric?” You asked, wondering where your father figure was.

That made the smiles dim, “What?” You asked, looking between the two. With Lizzie being next to you, you missed how she also looked between the pair in alarm.

“You didn’t sort it?” Lizzie asked through clenched teeth. When she didn’t receive an answer, she stormed inside.

“What’s going on?” You asked your two remaining friends. They shared a side glance, not sure on how to say it.

“Not…not everyone was…positive about it.” Josie said, trying to be as gentle as possible.

“…Oh.” Hope heard the voice tremble, and was quick to put a hand on your arm.

“Hey, it doesn’t reflect on all of us, ok? It’s just a minority. I’m sorry.” She said, seeing how deflated you looked.

“It’s not your fault.” You assured Hope. Both your smiles were dejected and sombre.

It was Josie who then spoke up, “Why don’t we go inside get you to your room?” She offered her arm for a loop, you obliged with the want and were on your way.

You weren’t even if it for two seconds before Lizzie barged in, a pissed off expression clear on her face.

“What is it?” You asked after a moment of silence.

“They know you got back,” At those words, Josie and Hope came to stand by you as they looked to Lizzie; their question was one you didn’t understand.

Whatever it was, Lizzie shook her head before looking at you with a smile, “I’ll be right back. Rest of the squad is looking for hobbit, but I got this. You just relax, Y/N.” Lizzie told you, before she left the room.

“Come on, sit. We’ll help you set up.” Hope said, sitting on said bed and patting the spot next to you.

You sat.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I meant what I said before, you look great.” Hope said as the three of you had moved to laying down at the top of the bed; you in the middle and two of your sisters on either side of you. They were both on their sides, facing you, with you looking up at the ceiling.

“You don’t need to keep saying that.” You laughed through your words softly. Hope’s smile grew. She was happy you were happy and allowing yourself time to recover.

“How many disagreed with it?” You asked. That created a lull in the conversation; an uncomfortable atmosphere there.

Lizzie, in any other situation, would’ve probably been more worried about how this would go. Despite the small groups, there were more of them than there was of her. But, in this moment, she didn’t care. To be honest, it went against what the school was about –

Acceptance. And they just seemed to be the anti-all of that despite their own differences.

The levels of irony was not lost on her. In fact, if anything, it was what drove her on further.

“Hey, asshats!” She called out to them. They turned, one even opened their mouths to talk.

That was quickly stopped by a quick silencing spell by Lizzie. She was talking, and they were sure as hell going to listen, “I get that you all are going through your edge grunge phase, but you do know that Y/N is an actual person, right? They chose this, and all you had to do was allow it and move on. I mean, you guys are with Josie, even if she’s just here on visit I haven’t seen one comment against her…”

“I just…I can’t describe it, but –”

“It’s euphoric?” Josie asked, your head then turned to her.

“In a way. I feel…I guess that, yeah. But, I mean, those out there…”

“Ignore them.” Hope said without missing a beat.”

“I can’t, Hope. You know how they stare and whisper. I’m not changing it back. I just…I don’t know…” You trailed off, not sure how to fully get your point across.

“You remember when you came out to mum and dad?” The question got both you and Josie sharply looking at you; it was rare for her to ever bring up your deceased parents. A sore spot for you both.

“You remember what she said?” You nodded, yet your sister continued, “’Ok, honey. I’m just glad you’re being you.’” You gulped as she then said, “And dad. God, dad was so proud, ‘I’m proud of you little one, for being true to yourself. No one can take that from you, ever.’”

“No one can or will. Not as long as we and you have someone to say about it.” Josie concluded, holding one of your hands in her own; it didn’t break you and Hope’s stare however. Josie respected that, it was a big thing to talk about your parents.

 “…And I get that my dad is away, but that doesn’t mean you have to come and ruin this for my friend who has been nothing but kind to all of you. And, what? One little change and choice and suddenly they’re dead to you? This school was built for acceptance, not hatred or anarchy or rebellion.” Lizzie was just getting more and more frustrated; more and more angry; more and more defensive.

Some of the group even looked ashamed. Her words were working. They were changing their minds.

Then, some of those faces shifted again. And she turned to see what had caused it.

It was you, with Hope and Josie stood next to you as a united front.

She wasn’t done, but it seemed that the crowd she had riled up were getting antsy again.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The spell had worn off, and there were words. There were a lot of words. You had seen Lizzie hateful before, but this was something else.

You heard the words they used to almost try turn it on her, say that she was relapsing. Say that this was why, that she was losing control. They tried to make themselves the victims. They were the ones under attack, not you. Why would it be you? In their minds, as of right now, that seemed to make no sense.

They then saw Josie. They saw how she was doing better at Mystic Falls High and almost happy and content with herself. They blamed it on Josie, that the girl had someone influenced her sister into this; a kind coercion of sought. They brought up the black magic saga she had gone on. Seemed Lizzie was wrong, they hadn’t fully moved on, they just instead waited for the right time to strike with their words.

Oh, and try they did. They swore, cursed – seemed Alaric being gone for the time being really made them go more off the rails than this “protest” already was – hell, one even tried to attack Josie, had Hope not thrown him back.

Josie had backed up in fear, but also moved a bit in front of you; just in case.

Then there was Hope, the oldest of the Mikaelson siblings; the one that mirrored Klaus more and more every day more than you ever would.

They tried to provoke her. They tried to make it seem like it was her fault for your actions, as if she – like they had accused Josie of with Lizzie – swayed you into this decision. Hope knew it made no logical sense, but she was already growing more and more pissed, nails digging into her skin.

Hope knew that, if she needed another forest screaming session, this would have to wait. And there would be a lot more trees knocked down this time because of it.

Then. Then they made a mistake.

They looked at you.

They looked at you, the whole reason they had banded together.

The whole reason Lizzie had gone after them.

You.

To you, it was just noise. Your ears were ringing as you tried to remember the words Josie and Hope had given you before, along with the other affirmations your parents had given you.

Your friends had been there every step of the way. They had tried to do what they could. And now you had done and all they wanted was to help celebrate it and help you settle back into your life at the school.

Now though, now you were just being yelled at. You saw your friends look to you, and you saw the concern on their features as your eyes did fill with tears. But you also felt the hurt and pain inside, and how that morphed into two things; fight or flight.

As the leader of the group got closer to you, Hope was quick to fling him back.

As you heard what you didn’t doubt was a fight ensuing, you chose flight.

 You ran into Alaric’s office, glad for once that he was gone. You didn’t need him right now. Well, you did, but –

You knew you needed what had been done. You knew it, that was why you had it done. You knew you had support and you knew that not everyone would.

You just didn’t expect it to be so…extreme.

Maybe you could transfer along with Josie, maybe there they would –

“Y/N?” A voice asked. You turned, seeing the three at the entrance to the office, Josie and Lizzie with a cut and bruise or two, but nothing major.

Still –

You sat in the chair, face in your hands. You heard feet shuffle, a chair scrape, and someone grunt a bit as they sat on a table – as you heard papers being shuffled.

You felt someone put their hands on your shoulders, trying to massage them as best as she could.

“I’m sorry.” You said in utter despair, “I didn’t mean to –”

“You didn’t cause anything. Those guys were just assholes for the sake of it.” Lizzie was blunt, and used more colourful language, but it was what you loved about her.

You felt two hands grab both of yours and hold them in the gap between you and them, “They just can’t accept it. But, we’ve got your back on this. On anything. You deserve to be and look the way you want.” That was Josie.

So that meant – “I think I speak for all of us, when I say that we’d do it again.”

“You helped me out of my subconscious, helped me find my strength. And, if I’m honest, I’m jealous, Y/N, you took a stand for what you wanted and went for it.” You opened your eyes when Josie had stopped talking, seeing her soft face and gentle smile on her lips.

You sniffled a bit, looking to Lizzie, who rolled her eyes half heartedly but nodded with a smile.

Hope then moved out in front of you, “What do you say? You ready?” She asked, holding out a hand for you.

“Ready.” You confirmed, holding her hand and leaving with your three sisters.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You got more smiles than you expected, but you smiled back as you all went back to your room. It  had been a day, even before this conflict, and you definitely needed your rest now.

You all made idol chatter as you went. Most of it about the school and Malivore, but you were calmer now. You were freer with each other.

It was like nothing had changed.

However –

“There they are, Doctor Saltzman.” One of the old group said as Alaric followed her, she even pointed to you as if he needed to know for sure.

Alaric looked to you four for an explanation.

As the other three went to speak, you put your hand up. They paused, looking to you. You gave them a smile, and went over to Alaric as the three trailed behind you.

“Doctor S, I’m sorry for the fight that happened. I didn’t want it to turn into a scrap. It was just a group of people not really liking what I’d done. But, to be honest, I didn’t really see how it effects them at all. All it did is help me and do good. I don’t see the bad. But, I am sorry for the fight.” You said, as calmly as you could.

Alaric nodded, “Thank you, Y/N. There’s gonna be some cleaning needed, but we’ll figure all that out after. I’m just glad you’re ok.” He said with a smile. With that, he passed you and went to the office, with the student following, this time in a sombre way.

You looked back at the three, who all smiled at you, “Come on, let’s go back. You’ve had a long day.” Hope offered, holding out her hand.

“I’ll go get the ice-cream.” Lizzie said, Josie going with her to help with the bowls.

You took your sisters hand, going back to your room.

Sure, there would always be naysayers about your choice. But, who were they to judge? They weren’t you.

The school was built on acceptance, not hate. And you were sure Alaric was going to instil it in that student or have them leave.

But, to you, you just felt better.

You felt at home, both internally and externally.

You let out a breath of content.

[stardusttkachuk]

Santa’s Workshop

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: fluff, swearing,

Summary: JJ picks up a holiday job, working as one of Santa’s elves. He doesn’t expect to meet another elf there, but isn’t disappointed in who he’ll be working with all season.

A/N: This is day 1 of starduststarkey’s 12 days of Christmas. Find other fics in my masterlist

Wanna be tagged? click here!

“You look fucking ridiculous,” John B says as JJ stands in front of the broken full length mirror that JB picked up from a junkyard.

“At least I have a job, asshat.” He fixes his hat on his head, grimacing at the way the tights hug his body. He’s uncomfortable in every place imaginable and is already dreading the 5 hour shift.

“Maybe if you’re a good elf, Santa will bring you a girlfriend this year!” Pope teases.

“You better shut the fuck up before this elf beats you to a pulp,” JJ threatens, fists raised.

Pope laughs. “I don’t think elves are supposed to be getting in fist fights.”

JJ huffs and rolls his eyes. Pope is right. He can’t show up to this job covered in bruises, that would scare the kids even more than he probably already will.

“Will you please drive me?” He asks John B. 

“Maybe you should ask Santa for a car,” John B says, grabbing the keys to the Twinkie.

“Why do you think I even took this job in the first place? Please. I don’t want to be seen in public like this.”

You set your bag in the provided cubby, checking your phone one last time before your scheduled session. When you had signed up to be one of Santa’s elves at the local mall, you were ecstatic. You and your best friend had been doing this for the last two years. But this year, your best friend ditched you for the hot chocolate stand. Really she ditched you for the cute girl who worked at the hot chocolate stand, and now you were stuck working with some kid named JJ Maybank. You crossed your fingers in hopes that he wasn’t some loser like the guy they hired last season.

“Santa arrives in 10 minutes! You better be out there in 5!” Natasha, the showrunner of Santa’s Workshop yells through the improvised locker and changing room. “Where’s your other elf?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. He hasn’t shown up yet.”

“Well when he gets here tell him he’s a dead man if he isn’t here 15 minutes prior to his shift.” She storms out, clipboard in hand. 

The first day is always one of the craziest. Things don’t settle down until a few weeks in. And by the time they do settle down, it’s already the week before Christmas and they get crazy again. 

“Hi. I’m JJ Maybank. I think this is where I’m supposed to be?” You hear someone say, likely talking to the nutcracker that’s posted outside the green room.

“In there. Find Y/N. You’ll know it’s her because she’ll be dressed just like you.”

You roll your eyes. At least he showed up. Ten minutes late but he did make it.

He passes through the curtains, blonde hair a mess under his elf hat. You’ll have to remind him to brush it before he arrives. You have an extra brush in your bag, but you know you won’t have time to make it look perfect.

He spies you easily, strutting towards you. “I’m JJ. Are you Y/N?” 

“That’s me. You’re late, by the way.”

JJ looks at his watch, eyes wide and mouth agape. “I’m five minutes early! That’s the earliest I’ve been for any job!”

“Natasha’s rules state all workshop employees must be present 15 minutes prior to their shift.”

JJ rolls his eyes. “It’s only ten minutes.”

“And if it happens again, you’re a dead man. So you better be here 15 minutes early next time.”

“Okay but why 15? Aren’t we just sitting around those 15 minutes until our shift starts?”

“It’s for costume malfunctions. Like your hair. It needs to be brushed. If you had been here 10 minutes earlier, maybe we would’ve had time to brush it and make it look better.”

“My hair looks fine,” JJ grumbles, though he does attempt to smooth down the ends with his hands. 

You lead him over to the cubby next to yours, gesturing to it. “Put your stuff in here. And that includes your phone.”

JJ places both his phone and wallet into the cubby. He then takes his jacket off and puts it on top of the two valuable items.

“No one is going to steal your stuff, if you’re worried about that. This place is heavily monitored,” you say. “And no one but Santa’s crew is allowed back here anyway.”

JJ is about to speak when an elderly woman with white hair tucked under her hat enters the room. “Looks like Mrs. Claus has arrived,” he jokes.

“That’s Natasha.” You grab JJ’s hand, pulling him out to Santa’s corner before Natasha has a chance to yell at him for his tardiness.

“So what exactly do we do?” JJ whispers, eyeing the line of children and their parents that seems to wrap around the entire display.

“We help the kids from their parents to Santa’s lap and then back out to their parents again. And don’t forget the candy cane before they leave.”

JJ grimaces. “You mean we have to interact with the kids?”

“Yes. Now smile and act like an elf,” you say.

“How do- ohf!” JJ grunts as you elbow him and immediately reach forward for the hand of a little girl.

“Hi! I’m elf Y/N! And this is my friend elf JJ! What’s your name?” You ask in a high pitched voice. 

“I’m Sophie,” she beams. She grasps onto JJ’s hand and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the face he makes. It’s clear he isn’t a fan of kids and you can’t wait to watch him interact with them for the next 30 days.

JJ pulls his booties on over the tights, chuckling to himself as the bells jingle. They jingle every time he walks. He’s grown so used to the sound now though. He’s grown used to looking absolutely ridiculous in his costume. He’s even grown used to the kids, which he thought was impossible.

But the way Y/N smiles when he coos at a baby or holds onto a preschoolers hand has helped him get over his dislike of the kids. He’d do just about anything to see her smile.

“Ready?” John B asks from the doorway, keys looped around his finger.

“Actually a friend is picking me up,” JJ says, grabbing his phone and wallet.

“What friend? You don’t have any friends besides us.”

“Well that’s very rude of you to think. I have plenty of friends. And her name is Y/N. We work together.”

“Work together or sleep together? Or both. Do you guys like, get it on in the costumes?”

“Ew, no,” JJ scoffs.

“Okay, you know elves is somebody's kink,” John B adds, shuddering as he does.

“I didn’t want to know that. I don’t want to think about that.”

“Okay but Y/N… you like her.”

“No. We’re just friends. We’re coworkers. We work the same shift and she offered to give me a ride, okay? Now can you make yourself disappear before she gets here? I don’t want her seeing your face.”

John B pouts. “Why not? I have a very likable face.”

“Just… please?” JJ asks, but it’s too late. 

The beat up Ford truck pulls up in front of the house. JJ knows it’s hers. On days when they work late and it’s dark outside by the time they leave, he walks her to her car. They once spent two extra hours after work sitting in her car and talking. She even gave him a ride home once, but he made her drop him off down the street. It was too risky for her to pull up to his actual house, especially if his dad was home. 

JJ knows John B is in the doorway when he exits the house. He watches as Y/N waves, a courteous smile on her face. JJ walks to the passenger side, hearing the familiar squeak of the old door.

“Who’s that?”

“John B. He’s my best friend.”

“He’s dating Sarah Cameron right?” she asks.

“Yeah. You know Sarah?”

“Everyone on this island knows Sarah,” Y/N laughs. JJ knows she’s not wrong. Everyone did know the Cameron's, especially after the huge scandal that went down last summer. People don’t typically forget about a murder and stealing of millions of dollars worth in gold.

“Right,” JJ laughs nervously. 

You tear your elf hat off as soon as you reach your truck. Today was a hard shift. Multiple crying kids, lines that wrapped all around the mall, parents who didn’t understand the concept of patience and waiting, and then there was the kid that peed on Santa Claus and made everyone wait even longer while Santa went to change. It was a nightmare. 

If it wasn’t for JJ, today would’ve been the day you quit.

But he insisted on stopping for dinner before you dropped him off, so here you were, sitting at a booth across from him, the both of you still clad in your elf costumes.

You probably looked ridiculous but you didn’t care. JJ was your sole focus tonight. He let you vent to him about the craziness of the day and when you weren’t talking he was telling you about the funniest wishes he had overheard while on candy cane duty. 

“All their missing socks?” You laugh, hand covering your mouth.

JJ nods, laughing harder. “He-He couldn’t understand why the dryer monster needed his socks more than him. He even asked if-if monsters were on the naughty list!” JJ bursts out laughing, as do you. If there was one thing that could cheer you up, it was this.

“Kids got a point,” you giggle. “Why does the dryer monster only take one sock and not both? Do you think he only has one leg?”

JJ nods, his smile wide. “Yeah, instead of one eye he’s got one leg.”

Your laughs die down slowly, but you can’t wipe the smile off your face. The smile that was forced all throughout the day was now a real one.

“I’ve missed that smile,” JJ says, reaching his hand across the table.

You blush but take his hand without hesitation, lacing your fingers through his.

JJ nervously clears his throat. “Do you think when this is all over, I can take you on an actual date?”

You’re not sure your smile could get any wider. “I’d like that.”

You both stare at each other for a while longer, before JJ can’t wait anymore. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, leaning over the table.

“I’d like that too,” you respond, meeting him halfway.

Tags: @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @serpentbaby @etoilesnoor @k-k0129 @maybanksbaby @talksoprettyjjx @canibeoneofthepogues @multifixx  @theonetheonlyalexbrown @glux64 @shy-1234 @sleepyhollands @cognacdelights @ilovejjmaybank @blueeyedbesson @cheshirecat107 @myrandom-fandomlife @makebank @ifilwtmfc @obxmxybxnk  @kookkyra @rafej-cambanks @blindedbypeaky @ahiae @repostcentral @midnightzonzz @blxndeprincess @dracosbbygorl @itsagurl @Poguesinablanket @amandaburris @tovvaa @sunnsettee

[janedoe-eyes]

Neighbors in a Mask

This is my Secret Santa gift for @theatreandcomicfreak - I hope you like it! I had the help of a wonderful Beta who made this infinitely better😂. Merry Christmas! @maribat-secret-santa-2020 -  I’m also posting it on ao3 😁

“Ok - ok, you can do this! This is just a friendly introduction, what could go wrong? New town, new place, new start.” A wet nose nudged her hand in agreement with her little self-pep talk, and she smiled at her furry companion. Marinette squared her shoulders and knocked on the apartment marked ‘655’, the mantra ‘new town, new place, new start’ ran on repeat in the back of her mind. She fidgeted listening for signs of life on the other end of the door.

She jumped when the door suddenly and silently opened to reveal a man her age - half-dressed, extremely attractive, and wearing the least welcoming glower she’d ever seen.

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

“I… uh… next door… chest moved in… shirtless - I mean!” She sputtered, face resembling a tomato and she barely managed to grab the plate of macaroons she’d lost her hold on while  she flailed. Holy hell, I haven’t sputtered  this much since…

That thought sobered her right up, and she shook her head to clear the nervous clutter. She took a big breath and started again.

“Sorry - I just moved in next door,” she jerked a thumb to her left, indicating the other condo in the pair. “I wanted to bring these over and introduce myself - I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and this is my dog Squishy.” She gestured to the cream-colored Pit Bull, and he glanced down for a half a moment. “I just moved here from Paris! I’m a fashion designer and novice gardener-”

“Look, I have a lot of work to do,” He cut her off with an exasperated sigh. “I am not interested in whatever you are selling - whether it is a product, business deal, or yourself.” Her jaw dropped. “I do not socialize beyond what is forced upon me by my family - so you have wasted your time. Good day.” He nodded stiffly at her and shut the door.

What the fu…

She stared at the same spot on the forest green door until Squishy whined and nudged her hand. She looked  to see the dog leaning on her leg and slowly wagging her tail.

“Squish… did you hear him say what I think he said?” She asked, looking at the door. She received  another nudge, this time from her purse on her other side.

She peered down to see Tikki’s blue orbs looking at her  with  concern. Marinette  smiled in reassurance.

“I’m fine Tik -  just rebooting.” A small giggle sounded from the bag, and Mari’s smile grew. She gave the door one last look and huffed.

“Oh well,” She shrugged. “Might as well head home.”

She stepped off his stoop and strolled over to her own, her deep red door already decorated with a spring wreath - little ladybugs hidden throughout. She shut the door behind her and caught  the plate  for a  second time when  a black blur zipped right in front of her face.

“Hey Bug, I overheard your  little exchange… want me to phase over and cataclysm his TV or something?”

“Plagg! What have I said about startling me? You’re gonna give me a heart attack!” He ignored her, floating in lazy circles near her ear. She continued to grumble about the cat as she continued to the kitchen - Tikki flying out of Mari’s purse to join her other half.

“No cataclysms!” The Luck God scolded him, crossing her paws. “We can’t risk anyone becoming  suspicious of where the guardian is - anyone who knows  the temple returned will be on the hunt!”

“Please,” Plagg scoffed. “I can pop  in and out without him noticing and not leave a trace - it’d probably at least annoy the hell out of Mr-stick-up-his-”

“As much as I’d like to get him back for his rude  comment - seriously, where does he get off?!” Marinette interrupted with a sigh and a small smile. “Tikki’s right, and it wouldn’t be very guardian or Ladybug-like of me besides.”

“Fine - but the offer still stands.” The little floating cat huffed, flying over to where Squishy cuddled  in her bed by the window, watching her owner for signs of needing her.

It was odd how well the dog and cat god got along - Plagg refused to acknowledge he was fond of the Pit Bull, but they were found more often than not sleeping curled  together on Mari’s bed at night, and Marinette suspected he snuck  her treats.

“As long as we don’t see each other much beyond going in or out of our places - it shouldn’t be a problem.” She shrugged, popping a cookie from the plate in her mouth and handing one to Tikki who happily accepted. “With how ‘busy’ he alluded to being - it shouldn’t be hard.”

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

Turns out -  easier said than done.

She saw him the next day in line at a coffee shop accompanied by  a man a few years older than him who looked as if  death had warmed over. Mr. Grouchy made eye contact with her and scowled before turning away with a tsk.

She rolled her eyes and focused back on the barista. “Hello,” she smiled as much as she could manage at the buttcrack of dawn. “It’s a longshot, but do you happen to have any ‘Black Insomnia’ or ‘High Voltage’?” The blonde behind the counter paled.

“Not another one.” She whispered, her eyes darting over to the man being tugged along by her neighbor.

Marinette tilted her head in question, and the barista seemed to shake it off.

“We are well stocked with Black Insomnia, what size will it  be and how would you like it made?” She asked, her customer service smile  strained.

“The largest you have - as black as you can make it.” She smiled back and took her receipt, walking over to a booth, overhearing her call out for a “Suicidal Wayne” just as another worker called out for the same drink.

The older boy, the one who looked in desperate need of a good night's sleep, leaned on Mr. Pissy as if he was the only thing keeping him upright - but at the mention of the order, his eyes snapped over to her. He gave her a small wave, and she returned it with a quirked brow. He looked close to  moving  over, but Sir Scowls-a-lot stopped him with a hand on his arm. He spoke in a low voice, and the tired man’s face melted into a mix of disappointment and exasperation. The man shot her an annoyed look and turned back to the front.

She wanted  to go over and demand to know what he could  possibly say   having met her once for five minutes, but the barista called out three names - hers, ‘Tim’,  and ‘Damian’. She walked  up before the two could move and grabbed her cup, thanking the woman, before brushing past ‘Tim and Damian’ on her way out. She was in a rush - there was a show coming up next week and she had fittings all day, she didn’t have time to deal with her asshat of a neighbor and his friend with good taste in coffee.

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

As the days passed, they continued bumping into each other. Their dynamic well-past talking, favoring annoyed glares and eye rolls. He wanted to scare her off (the Wayne lawyer way or Robin way - he hadn’t decided yet), but his father and brothers refused - insisting she hadn’t done anything deserving of any kind of action.

Yet. His mind supplied.

There was something off about her - the sixth sense he’d acquired through his life was never wrong, and she set it  off like fireworks whenever she was near. He couldn’t get a read on her intentions, but he wasn’t one to wait for the other shoe to drop - he planned to keep his eye on her.

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

He saw her again on patrol a week and a half after she first knocked on his door.

He was in costume uniform tailing a group of five men who  had recently left a warehouse that  belonged to  the Penguin. Red Hood stationed  across the street following parallel to him.

The men turned the corner on Hood’s side, and Robin signaled he would wait until they were out of earshot before grappling over. Hood nodded and continued trailing them.

Robin waited for a beat, then shot his hook out to grab the highest ledge available.

“Shit.” Hood’s voice through his comm made his hand jerk and his grappling hook missed the mark. He released his own curse and reshot as soon as the cable  fully retracted.

“Report, Hood.” He snapped, flipping at the arc of his swing and sailing over the first building.

“They’re targeting a girl - she looks  your age, tiny, at least partially Asian,” Hood grunted lowly.

Damian groaned.

“Acquaintance of yours, Demon Spawn?” Red Hood teased.

“No names in the field, Hood.” He hissed. “And it’s  my new neighbor - she keeps popping up like a bad penny.”

“The one you said tried  to butter you up with cookies, and drinks the same motor oil as Replacement?” Hood asked. Robin landed beside him, leaning over the ledge to watch the girl’s progress as she leisurely strolled down the street with several shopping bags.

“<Tt>, idiot,” Robin muttered under his breath. “That’s her.” He glanced at Hood who nodded.

“You know - I still say you might have misjudged the situation - Timmy said she didn’t seem the cozy-ing up type and seemed  kinda openly pissed at you.” Red Hood mused.

“No. Names. In. The. Field. Hood.” Robin grit out, tired of this conversation - he’d had  versions of it with his family ever since the coffee shop incident.

Everyone insisted the  Dupain-Cheng girl was trying to be nice - but he looked through her records, and found  an unprecedented amount of bullying accusations against her in high school, and she’d quit her job at ‘Agreste’ with no warning - but that was oddly heavily-guarded information. He had been locked out of many of even the simplest social media accounts and public records - especially anything to do with the Agreste brand founder. A  familiar itch on the back of his neck told  him he was onto something big - and his suspiciously friendly neighbor was connected.

Hood took a breath as if to continue the conversation when Robin put a hand up and signaled downward.

They both looked to see the tiny girl turn sharply across the road and into a dead-end alleyway. She’s even stupider than I assumed , Robin mentally groaned as he and Red Hood scrambled to follow.

They dropped to street-level and ran over to the alley, prepared to find the young woman in need of saving, only to see three men passed out near the entrance.  A dented trash lid resting nearby.  The small girl, who looked like Red Hood could lift her with one hand, flipped  a fourth over her shoulder with ease.

“Holy Mother-” Hood gaped at the scene and  sidestepped  the flying body - it landed behind him on top of the others.

Robin didn’t flinch as the man sailed past and ruffled his cape. His eyes were fixed on the girl as she high-kicked the last man under the jaw - knocking him out immediately. He couldn’t stop the words ‘almalak almuharib[1]’ from slipping past his lips in an awed gasp. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in all his life.

He shook himself, scowling at the foolish thoughts that rose unbidden. Perhaps she is a shaman or spell caster. That is it - this must be a  spell. He reasoned to himself.

He watched, still unable to move, as the girl dusted off her clothes and reached into her bag.

“Are you two gonna help, or do you plan to stand there with your mouths open like a couple of fish.” She asked as she turned around with a handful of zip ties, eyebrow quirked.

“You have  one hell of a kick, kid.” Red Hood broke the silence, moving forward to grab a few of the proffered zip ties (even though he had plenty of his own).

“It was nothing.” She brushed off the complement with a wave of her hand and a light rose dusting on her cheeks.

Red Hood scoffed, “Whatever kid, that was the most badass take-down I’ve seen in a while - and I know Wonder Woman.” He extended his fist for a bump.

Her smile fell  from her face as if she’d been slapped - her eyes fixated on the proffered fist and starting to water.

“Uh…” Red Hood lowered  his arm, “I ain’t trying to hit you kid… you guys have fist bumps in Europe, right?” He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck.

“I… It’s nothing - you just... reminded me of a friend.” She whispered, taking in a shuddering breath and turning  sharply to secure the last guy she knocked unconscious.

Robin shared a look with his brother (an odd thing to do through a helmet, but they knew each other well enough for  it to work) and shrugged, before taking out his own zip ties and turning to the pile of three large men.

As they finished  with the other four, Marinette walked past them with her bags and a quick “I’ll leave them to you, then” - and left the alleyway, disappearing from sight.

“That… was weird, right?” Hood said, staring after her. “Shouldn’t we make her stick around to give a statement?”

Robin shook his head slowly. “I think… it would be best to let her go... this time. We have both seen that look before.” In the mirror every time we lost a teammate in battle, he glared   where he’d last seen her retreating figure, and puzzled  over the new information.

“Wait, wait, wait, I agree she can fight  and all, but are you really saying that the little pipsqueak...” He choked out in surprise, Damian could tell his eyes were bugging under his mask.

“I’m not sure, but she’s certainly no average civilian.” He cut his brother off with a shake of his head. “I suggest we keep an eye on her.”

“Hey, if you two have finished your little intrusion into the poor girl’s life and traumas, the police are  a minute out.” Barbra, or rather, Oracle’s voice sounded from their earpieces.

Damian took one last look at where she’d disappeared to before turning away with narrowed eyes and a “<Tt>”.

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

Marinette withdrew following  the encounter in the alley - barely acknowledging her surly neighbor, Squishy refused to leave her side, and Plagg and Tikki often needed to call her name several times before she’d respond… The  Kwamii were worried.

“Tik… we only just pulled  her out of the slump she was in back in Paris after…” Plagg’s normally light and expressive face fell, his tail, ears, and whiskers drooping.

“I know… It’s never easy to lose one.” She whispered with a pained wince, past memories flashing in front of her eyes. She floated over to her other half and pulled him into her, petting the back of his head as stuttering purrs overtook  his shaking.

“If she continues to relive it, we’ll lose her too - remember  Keket.” Tikki shuddered at the reminder of the young girl.

“No… we can’t let that happen again,” Plagg growled, the memories of the long lost kitten painful even all these years later. They couldn’t let that happen to Marinette. Tikki nodded firmly into his shoulder.

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

Marinette stretched out under a large oak tree in the city gardens, her sketchbook open on her lap and Squishy laid  over her legs - keeping guard. She stared at the blank page with unfocused eyes, memories swimming  in her head out of order and distorted.

“*Sniff* Mommy... Daddy…” A small voice sobbed, pulling her from her musings. She closed her book and set it aside. Squishy took that as a signal to get up and look around, her ears swiveling alertly.

“Where is it coming from, Squish?” She reached  to rest her hand on the dog’s back, Marinette stood  and looked  around intently.

Her dog gave a soft *wuff* and tugged on the leash. Marinette turned and allowed the Pit Bull to direct her. As they neared the bushes the sound came  from, Marinette stopped  short at the sight of a familiar well-kept head of dark hair and moved her and Squishy to peek around them to the bench beyond.

From her position, she saw  her prickly neighbor crouching next to a boy of about five or six whose cries turned into soft giggles as a Great Dane licked at his face, tail wagging wildly.

“Alright Titus, let the boy breathe.” The man grunted, tugging lightly on the large dog’s collar. “Now, have you calmed enough to tell me your name?” He asked in a surprisingly gentle voice, turning his attention to the boy. The kid nodded, sniffing and reaching out to pat the dog - who happily leaned in.

“E-Ethan… My name’s Ethan Sorensen, Mr. Wayne.” He said shyly.

“Ah, you recognize me?” The younger boy nodded, still stroking the dog.

The Wayne Heir returned the nodd. “Good - at least you didn’t talk  to  a complete stranger. You should be more careful though, the world - and this city especially - are dangerous places for someone  young and inexperienced.” He scolded with a frown.

The boy shrunk in, and Titus nudged further into the boy, whining slightly. The temperamental man sighed and hesitantly put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I do not mean to be harsh - I am merely  glad I found you first.” He gave the boy a strained smile and it received a laugh from the kid. His eye twitched in annoyance.

“<Tt>,” He groused, pulling back and taking out his phone. He tapped a few times before placing the phone against his ear. “Gordon, I have a boy named Ethan Sorensen alone in the Southeast end of Robinson Park, have there been any missing child reports?” He nodded at whatever response he received. “Good, let your father know we will wait  for them on a bench... Yes, of course I plan to remain with him! He is no older than six!... Yes, yes, I will stay behind to issue a statement to the officer… Goodbye Gordon.” He hung up the phone and returned it to his pocket before turning back to the boy.

“Your parents are on their way, would you like to play fetch with Titus until they arrive?” He received a shy nodd in return and handed over a yellow batman-themed ball which was enthusiastically chased  once thrown.

Marinette watched a few more throws before retreating to the tree where she had left her bag and packed up.

“So he can be sweet,” she mused to Tikki under her breath.

The Kwamii poked her head out of Mari’s pocket and giggled. “Though he didn’t seem super comfortable with the situation, he went out of his way to be kind to the boy. He stepped  up when needed.”

“Yeah, I guess our grumpy-goose next door can act like a human - now and then.” Marinette laughed, turning toward the park’s exit, a light flutter in her chest  after watching her awkward frenemy do something kind.

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

That night, Marinette seriously considered  donning her mask for the first time in over a year.

She couldn’t explain why, but watching Damian’s secretly sweet nature peek through had  lifted her spirits. She felt more like her old self than she had in a long time.

The dark and handsome man was obviously out of his comfort zone in interacting with the boy, but his desire to help another person outweighed his own discomfort. Mari’s guardian senses could see the effort it took to overcome the deep-seated parasitic darkness that latched onto his being. .

Her bones buzzed with an energy that had been absent for  a year. She didn't call for a transformation though - her Guardian duties came first, and she needed to understand the city as a healer before she could take on an active protector role.

Using the recovered energy, she took back up a project she'd been working on - knitting hats, gloves, and scarves with needles Wayzz helped her infuse with a warming charm. She planned to give them away at the shelter she volunteered at on weekends when the weather turned in a few months.

She had four sets of mittens done and adjusted the needles to start on a fifth when a loud crash sounded from the other end of the wall. She jumped up and grabbed the retractable baton she stored in her crafting room, sliding into a crouching position. Tikki and Plagg flew over from the cushion they were lounging on to hover next to her.

They waited in suspense  - listening for clues as to what was going on beyond the wall.

After a few moments, a pained groan sounded along with another, smaller crash.

Was it… her surly Wayne neighbor?

She shared a glance with Tikki and Plagg, and the three nodded. Plagg phased through the wall, and Tikki flew to Mari’s shoulder. An anxious minute later, Plagg returned, stifling laughter with his paws.

“Oh yeah - he’s gonna need some help,” He snorted. “And what is it with you attracting all the weirdos?” He cackled, flying over to the mini-fridge she kept stocked with Kwamii food and phasing through.

“You’ll want to bring the first aid kit,” he continued, exiting the fridge with a small wheel of cheese and taking a large bite before continuing. “Probably keep the baton with you in case there’s trouble - the kid may not be much help  watching your back.”

That snapped her to attention, and she rushed off to her bathroom to grab the enormous first aid kit she collected over  years of hero work. She pulled on a coat - Tikki slipping into a pocket - and shoved her feet into her deep red combat boots, quickly tying them before rushing out her front door and over to the stoop she’d glared  at in passing for weeks.

Marinette  took a deep breath to calm herself before testing the door - which was of course locked. She huffed and pulled out the lock-pick set she stored in the inner lining of her boots. She unlocked  the door after two frustrating minutes - it seemed her neighbor wasn’t satisfied with the standard locks that came with the condos and installed his own.

Once inside, she closed the door behind her and re-locked it  - noticing a blinking red light on a small black box along the side of the door.

Probably a silent alarm, she mused, No matter - I’m here to help and have no intention of harming… Oh geez, I don’t even know his name - what will the police think when they arrive  here?! What names did the barista say  at the coffee house? - Tim and… Damian? Gah! It doesn’t matter - he still needs help! She shook herself and continued along the hallway with the first aid kit in her left hand and the baton in her right - raised and ready for trouble.

“Um… Hello?” She called out, deciding it was better to alert any robbers than to scare her injured neighbor. “It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng - your neighbor next door? I heard a crash and someone in pain, so I let myself in…” Having cleared the first floor, she turned to the stairs at the back of the house past the kitchen. “Mr. Wayne?”

A pained grunt sounded from the top of the stairs and she tensed further, not foolish enough to rush  ahead after the warning Plagg gave  - even if it wasn’t bad enough to insist on coming himself.

“Is that you, Mr. Wayne?” She called, narrowing her eyes as she reached the top of the stairs.

“I...in here...” A deep male voice coughed from the last room to her right, and she heard a low growling as she entered the room.

“I’m going to turn on the light.” She called a moment before she did.

Muttered cursing sounded at the light and drew her eyes to the floor under the window where the young Wayne lay on his side, clutching a gash over his chest, and surrounded by glass. The  man was dressed in a ripped Robin uniform she’d become familiar with due to all the merch that littered the city.

“Oh…” Marinette  whispered, Plagg’s comment on attracting weirdos now making sense. She heaved a deep sigh.

“His name is Titus, right?” The dog twitched at his name, and his master nodded stiffly. “Will he  let me take a look at your injuries?” She retracted the baton and set it on the ground slowly with the kit, keeping her movements slow, and returning to a standing position with her palms empty and up.

“Titus, hda[2].” The dog slowly relaxed his tense position and looked back at the boy on the ground behind him. “Rahab[3].” The man said,  nodding toward her, wincing as it pulled at one of his many injuries.

Though she didn’t understand the language of the commands, their meanings were obvious - she sank to the floor again and turned to her side, slowly offering her hand for the great black beast to sniff. He cautiously approached her and watched her body language intently as he snuffled at her hand - leaving a cool trail behind, which would have made her giggle in  another situation.

Finally deciding to trust her , he licked her cheek and released a whine - tugging her jacket sleeve over to his injured master. She reached back to grab her kit and allowed the dog to pull her forward.

“Where are you hurt most severely?” She asked, kneeling beside him, ignoring the few pricks of glass in her legs as she did so.

“The gash on my chest is the only one that needs looked at immediately... the others are superficial.” He wheezed lightly, his voice strained.

“Was your head or spine injured to your knowledge?” At the slight shake of his head, she carefully slid her arms under him and gently lifted him into a princess carry. He let out an indignant and surprised manly squeak and she tried to hide her smile.

“Your partners, do you want me to contact them?” She asked, entering the connected bathroom and flipping the switch with her shoulder.

“My communicator and tracker are busted - though if you came through the front door, they were alerted and will send someone to check when  I do not respond.”

She nodded and set him into the tub as gently as she could, shooing Titus away from sticking his head in as close as he could get it to the man. She set her kit on the floor and pulled out a pair of scissors. He snorted at the sight.

“Those will not even make a scratch in -” She grinned at his stunned silence as she nearly glided through the material, snagging  a few times on previously patched parts.

“...” He stared at the scissors as she shifted to cut the sleeves. “This is the highest grade kevlar… how in the…” He turned to meet her laughing eyes and quirked an eyebrow.

“I have my secrets,” She gestured to the suit she was tearing into. “And you have your’s.” He pinned her with a look, but she raised her own brow as if to ask ‘you don’t actually expect me to tell you, do you?’

He scoffed and turned to the wall.

She laughed and moved the last of the material out of the way - turning back to her kit to gather her supplies.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me give you any Lidocaine?” He gave her a ‘what do you think?’ look. “That’s what I thought - want something to bite on?”

“I’ll be fine.” He grumbled, turning away again.

“Alright tough guy, I’m gonna just dive in - if you need a break or want to change your mind, let me know.” He nodded, and she threaded the hooked needle, glancing at him once more before starting in.

She was amazed at how little he reacted - a few face twitches at most - and she made sure to get through it as quickly as possible. After tying it off, she cleaned around the wound and taped gauze over it, and nodded to herself in satisfaction.

She turned  to grab more alcohol swabs, only to find the injured hero unsteadily climbing  to his feet.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She asked, exasperated.

“The rest is livable - I will be fine. Thank you for-”

“Thank me when I’m done patching you up, you stubborn fool.” She rolled her eyes, pushing him back down.

“How are you so strong?!” He huffed. “I don’t know of many civilians who could lift a grown man without an issue…” He left the statement trailing like a question, and she laughed.

“I grew up in a bakery - I’ve been lifting bags of flour my whole life.” She shrugged, taping up his finished arm and moving onto another gash.

“Sure…” He scoffed, not believing for a second that was all there was to it. She shrugged in response.

They sat in silence until she finished , tapping on the last square of gauze.

“Alright,” She helped him to his feet  and over to his bed. “Is there anything else you need?”

He shook his head, giving a soft ‘Thank you’ - reaching out to catch her hand as she began walking over to retrieve  the baton she’d left by his door.

“Truly - I… I would have been in trouble if you had not found me when you did. The others are in the middle of a fight and my beacon was broken before I could activate it… there might  still be  time before they worry.”

“Happy to help.” She smiled, patting his arm. He nodded, breaking eye contact again and patting Titus who jumped on the bed  to snuggle  the man.

“By the way…” She started. “What is your name? I know your last name is Wayne - that’s what the boy at the park said anyway, and I think it’s either ‘Damian’ or ‘Tim’ - because those were the names the barista gave at the coffee shop…”

“Wait,” He stopped her. “You… don’t know who I am?”

“Um… should I? The way the boy said it made it sound  as if you’re well known here - but I’m only familiar with Parisian celebrities.”

“Oh, then… I believe I may owe you an apology.” He scratched the back of his head, still avoiding eye contact.

“Yes, yes you do - but what are you referring to?” She started with a irked look, and he had the decency to look abashed.

“When you first came to my door… I thought it another instance of someone trying to get in my good graces because I’m a Wayne. My father and brothers have warned me against social climbers, and I find it best to avoid encouraging them by making my disinterest known right away.” He still refused to meet her eyes and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

She waited until he met her eyes before speaking. “I appreciate and accept your apology, and  I understand. ” He raised a disbelieving brow.

“No,” she chuckled, “Really. Back in Paris, I had a few friends who suffered from  the same problem - an Olympic fencer, a model, a rock singer…” She shrugged. “I get it… but I’d also like to start again if you’re up for it?”

He stared at her for a moment, taking in her sincerity, before he slowly nodded and extended his hand.

“Hello… I am Damian Wayne.” She grinned and grasped his hand.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

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

Dick burst into the apartment moments after Marinette returned to her own home - leaving her phone number behind with strict instructions to call if he needed anything. He explained what  happened - causing Dick check for a concussion when he openly admitted to misjudging her - and was taken to the cave.

Alfred was impressed with Marinette’s stitch job, and only needed to re-bandage the wounds he’d checked. His father had interrogated him for several hours when he found out a near-stranger  knew at least Robin’s identity. He was talked down from all-out kidnapping the girl for answers only because Damian insisted on it - and he rarely stood up for his family, let alone strangers. So, they decided to keep a close eye on her when she went out (Damian living directly next door kept them from over-bugging the outside of her home).

They discovered she worked  in a small boutique in the Fashion District, and volunteered  at a shelter. When she wasn’t at either of those places or running errands, she wandered the city for places to sit and sketch. They had the sneaking suspicion she knew of their presence , but hadn’t caught her looking directly at them yet.

They were all  wary of her but eventually  eased up on their suspicions the more they were around the little - but strangely strong - ball of sunshine.

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

A few nights later, Damian awoke to the sounds of muffled cries. He instinctively jolted out of bed and reached for the sword next to his nightstand. Listening, he found the sounds came from Marinette’s apartment. He popped open the door to his balcony located  on the same wall as hers.

Leaping over - narrowly avoiding knocking over one of the many pots strewn on  every surface - he slunk over to her door and peeked inside, expecting  a struggle and looking for the best opening to intervene.

What he saw was his small neighbor (friend?) curled  on her bed, tangled in her blankets, with tears streaming down her face. She thrashed, a whimper loud enough for him to hear through the glass slipping through her lips.

He sighed and set his shoulders - he’d seen enough night terrors from his brothers, the Titans, and even members of his grandfather’s League to know he wouldn’t leave her to suffer, but not looking forward to explaining how he entered .

Working on  the simple lock, he slid the door open silently, and closed it behind him, leaning his sword against it where she wouldn’t notice it unless she paid attention. .

A whine halted his approach, and he paused, noticing the butter-colored Pit Bull at the foot of the bed - having obviously knocked off in her mistress’ movement - and reached a hand out. The dog sniffed hesitantly, her tail stuck firmly between her legs, and her ears flat against her head in worry.

“It’s alright, girl, I am here to help.” He soothed, rubbing at her ears until her tail uncurled and began to half-heartedly wag.

“NON!... CHAT!” The girl on the bed sobbed, her arms flailing as if reaching for something.

He was at her side in an instant, grabbing her arms and readying himself in case she fought him.

“Mari!” He called, shaking her none too gently, “Mari! It is a dream! You need to wake up!”

It took several tries, but soon her eyes shot open.

She sat up, latching onto the first thing she found, and as he still held  her wrists, (and her dog was on the floor) he found his arms full of a sobbing Marinette. She gasped, muttering in French  how sorry she was, how she should have been stronger, how it was her fault…

He held her, as his brothers did for him for months after he came back from the pits and awoke from his own nightmares. He started to rock back and forth - smoothing her hair, and she cuddled in closer, her cries pittering out.

The city’s ambience filled the room - interspersed with the slight creaking of the bed at Damian’s continued rocking motion.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” He asked after what felt like both a moment and an eternity.

She hesitated, before starting in a small, frail voice.

He learned  what  transpired in France with the villain the League had been forbidden from interfering with. She told him of  the emotional trauma - having to police your own emotions, watching loved ones be used, watching them die horribly, only to have them come back with no memory of the fact.

And then - she told him about Ladybug.

She didn’t swear him to secrecy or threaten him if he told anyone - it spilled out with everything else.

She had been alone.

As a civilian, she was isolated, and as a hero - she had no one to lean on, especially once  entrusted with the Guardian title. She had only her Kwamii (whatever that was - she made it seem like some  all-powerful sprite) who knew her identity, and she couldn’t properly vent for fear of becoming ‘akumatized’.

She told him about the final battle. How it turned out to be the father of a friend who terrorized  everyone, how her partner had nearly fallen apart in grief - as it was his father - and how her partner, her friend, had died saving her from his father’s blade. The blow caused his own power, a "cataclysm" to defensively implode, destroying everything in the vicinity - even the bearer of the ring. Marinette's saving grace was her own power, the ultimate balance to destruction, which shielded her from the blast.

She sobbed into his shoulder after the tale was done until she eventually fell into a deep sleep.

He set her back into the bed gently and covered her with the blankets. Moving to the chair in the corner he  slumped down,  head in his hands,  absorbing  the emotion and information her story had left him with.

A wet nose nudged his arm, and he looked down to see her dog slowly wagging her tail and giving him sad puppy-eyes. He gave her a small smile.

“It’ll be alright…” He shifted to search for a tag to find  her name - not remembering it from Marinette’s initial introduction.

“It’s Squishy.” A small, high voice called. He jerked his head up to watch a red fairy-bug…thing float down to rest on the dog’s head. “Mari found her rooting through some trash in an alley a week after the final battle - they’ve been inseparable  ever since.”

They eyed each other for a moment before he broke the silence.

“...Tikki… right?” That was the name from Marinette’s story. She nodded, her big sky-blue eyes analyzing  his soul.

“I am Tikki, Kwamii  of Creation and good luck. Thank you for helping my chosen tonight - Plagg and I couldn’t wake her.” She drooped. “This one was particularly bad.” He nodded, and another sprite floated over, this one pitch black with a tail, small pointed ears, and ancient, acid green eyes.

“I’m Plagg - Kwamii of Destruction and bad luck - and I won’t hesitate to cataclysm you into oblivion if you hurt my Bug with the info she trusted you with tonight - or at all, for that matter.” It should have been impossible, with all of his experience, to be frightened of such a tiny being, but Damian found himself shuddering at the fierce protectiveness all the same.

“Understood.” Damian nodded.

“Good.” And just like that, the eyes were half-lidded and looked bored. “Do you have any fancy cheese at your place? The Bug cut me off from the good stuff after I tangled  her  expensive yarn or whatever.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his ‘arms’.

“Plagg! Can you not think of your stomach for once?!” The red sprite cried, exasperated.

“I spent the whole night watching Spots and trying to wake her when the dream started, then I threatened the birdboy - that’s a long time!” He pouted, and Damian huffed in amusement at how much the tiny cat reminded him of Todd’s bottomless pit of a stomach.

“There’s blue cheese and brie in the fridge.” He pointed down and to the side where his kitchen lay, and was shocked as the cat passed directly through the wall without a word.

“Sorry about him ,” Tikki said with a fond sigh. “He’s worried about Mari, and pretending he doesn't care is how he copes.” She took on a serious look and pinned him with it.

“I know you’re  a hero and used to keeping secrets, but the miraculous are the most powerful artifacts in the world. We existed  before the dawn of man, and we will far out-live your kind.” He stared at her, the ancient power from the cat now pulsed  from her, telling him she wasn’t to be trifled with.

“Mari is all alone in this, and we planned  to convince her to seek help from your “league of heroes” soon, so this is not entirely  inconvenient - but she trusted you. She is  gifted with excellent instincts - both as a Ladybug and a Guardian - I don’t oppose her choice, but I warn you - should you cause any harm to befall her, you will answer to me.” Damian shuddered for the second time that night - the second time in years - and nodded solemnly.

“I understand.” She searched his eyes for another minute before her own softened.

“I see  you do. You’ve  endured your own trials.” He looked at the lump on the bed to avoid her stare. “I think you will be good for each other.” She mused, rising from Squishy’s head and floating over to the wall connecting his home to Marinettes’.

“I’m going to make sure Plagg hasn’t eaten everything you own.” She giggled, and phased through the wall.

He released a shuddering breath and slumped down from his stiff position - reaching over to pet Squishy’s head as she leaned in and began to thump her tail against the floor. He smiled softly at the sight and sunk further back into the chair with a deep sigh.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort through how to help the neighbor he’d assumed was after his money and name. He winced at his previous misconceptions. He  needed more practice at  learning to accurately read people - perhaps he could convince Cass to coach him in nonverbal cues.

He shook his head, helping Marinette build  a support system was top priority. He’d always bemoaned his family getting in his way - but at least he’d never been left alone. From her story, it seemed like she’d run  the entire Paris operation on her own the four years Hawkmoth had been at large.

The first step was to involve  his Father and siblings  - they’d know how to execute a plan  - but he felt it had to come  at her own pace. From what she said, she’d had no choice but to play catch-up during her entire battle - since she was twelve.

He continued to chase his thoughts  in a dizzying dance until he eventually succumbed to sleep, not noticing when the kwamii crept back and snuggled in alongside Marinette.

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

Three months later - a tiny girl in a dark red and black ensemble was spotted running on rooftops alongside Robin, Red Hood, and Nightwing, her light, bell-like laughter ringing out into the Gotham night.

The local media pages blew up - the people of Gotham fell  in love with their ‘Ladybird’ and her sweet nature which  opposed the stoic and gruff bats. It was interesting for them to see her banter and fight alongside the other members of the team -  especially Robin, who became  her shadow, rarely leaving her side.

She had several blogs dedicated to her feats and theories about the miraculously healed injuries and repaired battle sites. It didn’t take long for people  from France to find the numerous articles, and start the rumor she was once their ‘Ladybug’, but there was no solid evidence. The two looked and acted completely differently.

Ladybird was free-spirited and light of heart, whereas Ladybug was serious and professional. Many speculated the  Ladybug miraculous  traded hands, but, as there was no supernatural Cat seen, it  remained an unlikely theory.

Unfortunately for the bloggers, it was hard to snag  a good look at the bats, as they thrived in the darkness. Others  commented on Robin’s costume change, but Ladybird’s appearance  took the spotlight.

If they had caught a closer look, they would have found Robin’s red and yellow colors gone , and the forest green was replaced with a more muted-toxic tone. Thankfully, his hood hid the most significant changes as he now sported two small velvet ears that reacted to sound and emotion, and his usual katakana now had a pitch-black blade with green detailing on the hilt.

In completely unrelated news,  the youngest son of Gotham’s resident billionaire was  in the news frequently as he’d taken to hanging around a petite Asian-French girl who was rumored to be a famous designer from France. She was photographed numerous times on outings with Damian and both their dogs - who got  along even better than  their owners.

Due to her kind nature and enchanting  smile, she quickly gained the  nickname  ‘Sunshine of Gotham’ and the tag trended frequently  on Twitter.

During an interview with a fashion magazine, she was asked if she’d ever leave the city of crime, and the answer she’d given was proudly displayed in the Gotham Gazette the next day.

“The people of Gotham have heart and spunk which  can’t be matched - I was welcomed here after a difficult time in France, and I don’t see myself growing tired of being challenged and cared for in the way only Gotham can.”

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

[1] Almalak almuharib - ‘Warrior Angel’ in Arabic [2] Hda - ‘calm’ in arabic [3] Rahab - ‘greet’ in arabic