#this... ended up being a lot longer than I thought it'd be

[thedemonscrawler]

Three weeks, two days, and some odd hours ago, Eclipse's life had fallen apart. He'd been tricked, betrayed, and attacked-- and now he was trapped, at the complete mercy of the three people who he hated the most, and who hated him in return. It was like the universe was playing some big cosmic joke on him. --- Eclipse attempts to escape the Daycare. Sun tries something new to calm him down. Prequel to "Hold, Please".

What if. I actually SHARED the 10k+ oneshot 13k+ ficlet. What if I did that.

Anyway! 8D more tiny!Eclipse!

[raventroll80]

Reunion

Another Troll Doomguy Fic (ficlet? idk)

Apparently I’m incapable of writing an actual proper story for this idea so here have another short story. The Interns name is still going to be Seth btw because names are hard. Also this story takes place a month after the Slayer felled the Icon of Sin and just before TAG (The Ancient Gods). Also the Slayer is also going to be named Slayer for au lore reasons.

Feedback is more than welcome!

It had been a little over a month since the Slayer felled the Icon of Sin. The moment him and Vega had left the Fortress Dr. Hayden had forced Seth to leave the Fortress with him, Seth could still remember the cyborg telling him the Slayer was nothing more than a savage beast and claiming that he’d turn on them once he returned.

Seth still doesn’t understand why Dr. Hayden is so afraid of the Slayer, from his experience the big guy was actually quite the gentle giant. He missed the feeling of being held by him and he could still hear his rumbling purrs. He hoped the the big guy was alright and Vega too.

The bellowing fog horn snapped him back to reality as the barge neared the dock. Seth had been assigned to help finish setting up an outpost on the mainland for the ARC. The boat was full of people both ARC personnel and civilian volunteers. Though about half were security personnel that Dr. Hayden was adamant on coming due to the reports that the Slayer had made his way to central Sweden.

Though it felt a little excessive the extra soldiers made a lot of people feel safer because even though the Invasion was over there were still a significant amount of demons left roaming the earth. But that wasn’t the only thing freaking people out, reports had come in from all around the globe talking about unknown creatures fighting back against the demonic hordes as well as other strange happenings. One of the more concerning reports were that of massive trees erupting from the earth in certain areas.

Seth had seen the pictures, trees as taller than skyscrapers dotting the globe. One had even split Iceland in half. While earth may have survived the Demonic Invasion, clearly they weren’t out of the woods yet.

Soon the barge had docked at the outpost, people were milling about the place. A makeshift wall was being erected around the outside of the ruined town. Seth was being ushered towards what appeared to be an old news/radio station.

The building wasn’t too badly damaged and a surprising amount of the equipment was still in one piece.

After many hours of work to get the station operational when Seth left the station. It was dark out and he was walking towards one of the makeshift dormitories when he spotted some stray cats in an alleyway.

Seth had stopped and beckoned the cats, one of whom surprisingly came. The cat was orange and black with soft fluffy fur. Though the cat was oddly long.

Seth had been petting the cat for a few minutes when it suddenly startled and hissed at him before running off. Seth had turned around to leave when he spotted what had spooked the cats.

On the next block over stood a tall figure. They stood taller than the lampposts one of which they were covering with their hands.

“S-Slayer?” Seth softly asked, stepping towards the figure. Hoping the figure was in fact his friend and not some random creature.

The figure straitened up before letting go of the lamp light and grabbing something from their waist and disappearing into shadow. In the brief moment in which the light had illuminated the stranger, Seth had spotted a large amount of green on the figure.

Seth’s hopes were raised when he saw the green.

It was the Slayer!

Seth had quickly made his way to the dorms with a broad smile on his face.

“Well someone looks happy,” a guard said as Seth approached.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he replied.

“Well what’s got you so happy then?” The guard replied.

“I’m pretty sure I just saw an old friend just now, I didn’t get a good look but I think it’s him.” Seth responded.

“That’s great! I hope you’re right, we need more optimism in the world,” the guard replied before wishing Seth a good night.

The night was rather peaceful, though the bed was rather uncomfortable. Seth didn’t mind, at least he wasn’t listening to yet another four hour lecture from Dr. Hayden on how the Slayer was dangerous and needed to be contained.

Even though Seth disagreed with the Dr. he still felt that the ARC got his point by the second lecture. Honestly he felt like Dr. Hayden was bordering on paranoia on the whole Slayer situation.

The longer he thought about it, it was really strange how scared Dr. Hayden was of Slayer. In fact from what he’s seen Slayer is more or less indifferent towards Dr. Hayden. After that train of thought Seth was more then ready to go to sleep.

In the morning Seth headed to the mess hall to grab a coffee and a breakfast. As he ate Seth overheard some people talking about seeing a large shadowy figure in the dead of the night.

Seth had a small smile on his face as he heard, glad that he hadn’t hallucinated his encounter last night. He finished up his breakfast and made his way back to the radio station.

On his way he saw the same cat from last night. The cat looked fine and happily approached him looking for more pets.

“Sorry buddy, can’t pet you right now. I gotta get that radio station up and running,” he said as the cat began loudly meowing at him.

The cat continued to follow him all the way to the news station. When he got there the cat was still following him. The guard at the door stopped him.

“Hey, uh, you can’t bring that cat in here?” They said confused.

“I don’t think I can control that,” Seth replied.

The cat meowed again.

“Hmm… if we’re quick enough you can get inside and I can close the door and stop the cat from entering,” the guard replied, Seth noticing that it was the same guard from last night.

“That could work, just be careful. We don’t want to hurt the poor thing,” Seth said staring at the cat.

It meowed yet again even louder then before.

“Let’s do this then,” the guard responded before counting down.

“Three… two… one!”

Seth rushed in the door and the guard closed it behind him. The cat stared at the two before walking through the broken glass door.

“Oh…” they both said as the cat walked over to the old reception desk and lied down.

“I’m just gonna go get to work setting up coms,” Seth said sheepishly.

“Yea…” the guard replied, embarrassed that they’d both been outsmarted by a cat.

As Seth entered the hallway he heard the cat give a happy meow as the guard began to pet it.

Today’s work was similar to yesterday but they were able to get the receiver up and running. Hopefully they’d be able to transmit soon, another priority was getting a PA system for settlement announcements.

After another long day of work Seth left the old news building. This time as he left he was greeted again by the guard and the cat. He chatted briefly with the guard talking about what he was working on. Once they were done the two left the building with the cat in tow.

As they were walking to the dorms Seth and the guard heard something fall over. The two turned to look at the source of the noise.

At first they didn’t see anything but then the guard raised their gun and positioned themselves between Seth and the alley. Seth followed the guards gaze and saw the shadowy outline of a large individual.

Seth was worried that the guard would fire on Slayer and he was about to try and drag the guard away, when the Slayer just walked away. The guard slowly lowered his gun before turning to Seth.

“You saw that right?” He asked, his voice shaking.

“Saw what?” Seth said after some quick thinking.

“The massive spectral visage of the Slayer? It was right there!” He shouted.

“Nope, though I will say this town is creepy as hell… haven’t seen anything myself but it just has this creepy vibe to it,” Seth replied, this time with a bit of truth to his words.

They continued their walk to the dorms, this time the guard was more on edge constantly looking around searching for threats. They parted ways once they had entered the old apartments, Seth heading up to his room, and the guard headed to the barracks.

The night was mostly uneventful, though there was the occasional skittering to be heard from the walls. The morning was uneventful as well though the cat was absent from his walk to the news station.

This time Seth was working in the basement trying to find one of the apparent several breakers in the building.

“Why are there several breaker boxes, who needs that many breakers?” He said as he searched the dark and dusty basement, cobwebs hung from the ceiling their owners long dead.

Occasionally Seth would walk into one of those cobwebs and fumble about trying to get the dusty webs, Seth didn’t like spiders and the cobwebs made him feel icky. After one of these little freak out sessions Seth found himself in a room that was apparently used to store holiday decorations.

He was looking around when he found a creepy vampire statue? Or was it a costume? He couldn’t tell. He leaned in and shone the flashlight on the decoration to get a better look. It had a large wide head with a large bat-like nose. It’s eyes were wide set bulging eyes, and had small human-like ears.

“Creepy…”

As he said that the “decoration” moved its eyes then its head to look at him fully. Seth jumped back with a scream. The creature gave a toothy smile before standing up and unfolding its gangly body, long clawed fingers cracking as if they hadn’t moved in years.

Seth sprinted out of the room and down the hallway and the creature slowly followed behind him. Seth slammed into the door and tried to open it, but to his horror it was locked. He began to pound on the door in panic as the creature approached. A painfully wide grin plastered across its face.

Seth’s terror turned to confusion as the creature pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door, gesturing for him to go first. Slowly he crept through the door before turning around to look at the creature again.

“Greetings viewer, how are you this fine day?” It said with a muffled voice.

“Fine…” he replied still confused, “are… you not going to kill me?”

“Now why would I do that?” The creature replied somewhat offended.

“Sorry it’s just…” Seth started before the creature spoke again.

“Oh! My apologies! How could I forget about that whole “demonic” invasion. I forgot how my appearance could be similar to those things,” it said, sounding disgusted having to mention the Invasion.

“I would appreciate it if you kept my existence, confidential. You reaction is more than enough proof that now is not the time for my kind to return.” They continued.

“O-ok…” Seth said still slightly confused, “uh, if you’re going back down there could you turn the power back on, we kinda need it to finish setting up the settlement,”

“I’d be more than happy to help you in your endeavours, good day to you my good sir,” the creature said before closing the door.

As Seth walked back to the main room the lights finally flickered back on. He breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the creature kept their word. Though now he had millions of new questions.

What was that thing? Why was it down there? Who are they? Why did they call me a viewer? These thoughts swirled around his head as he worked. By the time they were done the had managed to establish a connection to the ARC headquarters.

They were congratulated on their hard work, then once again warned about how the Slayer had been sighted heading north.

“He’s already here,” Seth thought to himself as he listened to Dr. Hayden drone on. Some people had actually walked out being done with the doctors speech, Seth was one of them. He went to the dorms, ate supper, and went to bed. This time though, he woke up in the middle of the night.

Unable to go back to sleep, Seth decided to go for a late night walk. He left the apartments and walked down the street. Dim lights lit the streets as the aurora danced across the night sky.

Seth had stopped at a pier to watch the fiery curtains dance about. As he was watching the same cat from the days before jumped up on a pole and joined him. The two sat there for a while just watching the night sky.

Suddenly Seth was lifted up into the air. He yelped when he felt large hands wrap around his waist and hoist him into the air. His captor held him close to their body as they left the pier.

He tried to look at who had taken him, but the person just held him closer. Soon they had stopped at an old shipyard outside of town. His captor had now slowed down to a walk and had entered one of the abandoned buildings.

Seth had finally managed to calm down, and he had noticed that his captor was purring. He was able to wiggle a bit loose. Now that he was able to properly see who his captor was.

“Slayer!” He exclaimed as a big smile covered his face as he saw his beloved friend.

Slayer looked at Seth before setting him down. Now that his hands were free he was able to take his most of his armour off.

Once he was out of his armour he immediately picked Seth back up and held him close. He began to cry softly.

“I missed you too big guy,” Seth said softly and he tried his best to hold and console his large friend.

Eventually Slayer had stopped sobbing and had carried Seth to what appeared to be a large sleeping bag. He lied down still holding Seth in his arms and curled around the small man. It didn’t take long for the two to fall asleep.

When morning came Seth was the first to wake. He could tell Slayer was still asleep by his deep breathing and occasional snore. Seth was right next to his face and he clearly could see how tired Slayer must have been.

His eyes were more sunken than normal and he could see bags under his eyes.

“How long has it been since he slept?” Seth thought to himself.

Slowly he reached out and rested his hand on Slayers cheek and gently rubbed his thumb across one of the many scars that dotted his face. Slowly the Slayer began to rumble, the same kind of rumbling purr from when they had first met.

The Slayer’s face softened and a small smile crept across Seth’s face as he slowly drifted back to sleep.

[yamujiburo]

Here's an arc I thought about doing but won't do because, it'd be a bit too sad and also it's too similar to the Turing Point Arc I already did and also it would be long. But I'll write it here for you angst enjoyers. This ended up being longer than I thought.

Despite getting the "okay" from Ash to date Jessie, Delia still worries that she's not doing the right thing or being a bad mom. Up until now she'd convinced herself that she had the right to be selfish for once after knowing only sacrifice and putting herself last.

Jessie and Ash, while not as antagonistic towards each other, still go at it. A Pikachu zap here, an angry "twerp" being uttered there. The guilt settles in for Delia and figures that it's best to just cut things off before things potentially get worse or before she gets too attached to Jessie. Her son comes first after all. That's what she signed up for when becoming a parent.

She sits Jessie down, eyes watery (it's the first time Jessie's ever seen Delia come close to crying). Delia says she thinks they should end things. Jessie is stunned but accepts it quickly. She sucks it up in the moment, puts a resigned smile on her face and tells Delia she'll leave immediately and not to worry about her. Delia's also broken up about it but promised herself she'd never cry over a goodbye and she wasn't gonna start now.

Jessie goes to James and Meowth's place greeted similarly to this, lightly teasing her about blowing it with Delia, and she breaks down sobbing. Oops it's real this time. James and Meowth do everything in their power to make her feel better. They let her know that things like this happen and they're ready to go wherever she wants to go (knowing that it'd likely be to painful for her to stay in Pallet). As much as she wants to leave, she doesn't want James and Meowth to lose the good thing they have going. She's not in the right headspace to make any decisions so she'll get to it later.

Ash returns home after doing a little training at Oak's lab. He notices Jessie's not around and asks his mom where she is. Delia is about to tell him but can't quite bring herself to say the truth out loud yet. She simply says "I don't know". Ash looks disappointed. "Aw man, I wanted to see if she wanted to battle. She makes a good battle buddy for all of my newer, baby Pokémon." Delia perks up that this. As quickly as he came, he leaves again to go train his Pokémon.

Later, Delia approaches Ash, asking him if he really meant that what he said about Jessie being a good battle partner. He gives her an enthusiastic "yeah!" and tells her that it's been nice having another battle ready trainer around since there's not many in Pallet. Delia starts to pry a little more. "I thought you and Jessie didn't get along?" Ash is confused, and tells Delia they get along great! "Jessie doesn't steal anymore! And she's getting better at battling which is cool." Delia brings up that she's head them argue before. "Oh... well I guess that's just how we are. I'd be weirded out if she was suddenly too nice to me all the time. Jessie's actually a lot like Misty. But taller!" This gives Delia a lot to think about but what's done is done and it's no use pressing on. It's easier this way.

The next morning Delia's getting ready for work. She must not have noticed that she was acting weird but Ash picks up on it. "What's wrong mom?" Delia's shocked he noticed (he's not usually this perceptive). She tells him it's nothing and that she just slept bad. "Hm. But Jessie says that when you're upset you get really quiet and intense." Delia notices that she was pretty intensely mixing the pancake batter. "Jessie told you that?" Ash nods. "Hey speaking of, where is Jessie? Haven't seen her since yesterday." Delia stops mixing and tells Ash that she and Jessie aren't together anymore. Ash is confused and upset at the idea of Jessie doing something that would hurt his mom enough for them to break up. Delia lets him know that Jessie didn't do anything like that and that them breaking up was just for the best. But Ash questions this, pointing out that he's never seen Delia as happy as she was when Jessie was there and also how Delia looks really sad now. Delia can't argue with that but then tells him that it's complicated. Ash, to Delia's surprise, looks a bit disappointed. He's bummed he wasn't able to say goodbye first and asks if she thinks Jessie would still be willing to come by and train with him sometimes. Delia asks him once more if he was really okay with her and Jessie dating. "Yeah I thought I said that already? Jessie's pretty cool when she's not being evil. And she really likes Pokémon which is a plus!" Such simple criteria. Delia's now worried that she might've made a mistake. She finishes making breakfast and heads to work.

At the restaurant she's met by James. She can feel an awkwardness hanging in the air. She knows that James knows. Before she can say anything James tells Delia thank you for employing him and helping him, Meowth and Jessie get back on their feet but that he's going to quit working at the restaurant and that they'll likely be leaving Pallet soon. Delia's heart sinks. There's now a ticking clock and she has to decide what she wants to do SOON. She asks James where Jessie is. James hesitantly tells her that she's at his and Meowth's place. Delia pleads with James to work the restaurant for one more day at least and to cover this shift. She has to go talk to Jessie. He agrees, hoping that this is a good thing.

Delia runs to James and Meowth's place. She knocks on the door upon arrival and waits. It takes a moment but she hears the door unlock. Jessie opens the door, disheveled, tears and snot all over her face, draped in a blanket. Jessie notices it's Delia and, frightened, slams the door. Delia's stunned for a moment and goes to knock on the door again but before she can the door opens. This time Jessie's tears are gone, her hair's fixed and she ditched the blanket. "Oh hey, Delia! What brings you here?" Delia can't help but be charmed. But this is serious. She shakes it off and asks if they could talk. Jessie invites her in. They get to the couch and Jessie starts frantically cleaning up all the crumpled tissues and dirty dishes off the ground. "Heh I caught a cold yesterday. A one day cold. I'm fine now." Delia doesn't call out the obvious lie and gets straight to the point.

She tells Jessie that she's worried she made a mistake. She made a panicked decision that she was hoping would protect Ash and her future self. But now realizes that she was afraid of the idea that she'd made a selfish decision by dating her. It was a selfish decision but that didn't mean it was a bad one. She was the happiest she'd been, Jessie and Ash were learning to get along and were getting along much better than she'd though. She acknowledges that Jessie has been there for Ash in a way that she can't quite be and is also grateful to her for managing to keep Ash home a little longer. She asks if Jessie would be willing to take her back (despite the distress she caused). Jessie starts sobbing with happy tears. She tearfully says she'll try even harder to get along with Ash and be a better person. Delia reassures her that she's doing just fine.

They kiss passionately but then realize it's weird that they're making out in James in Meowth's place and say they'll continue later. Delia tells Jessie to head back home and that Ash is looking forward to battling with her (and she also needs to let James and Meowth not to quit their jobs).

The end~

[greyskyflowers]

I like the idea that, I've seen mentioned a few times and love it, the boys turn into those little orb things when they're like completely, if they were human they would have passed out, exhausted.

I imagine a soft glow, warm to hold, about the size of an orange, a little weight to it and it doesn't float but drops to the floor and rolls like a ball ~

⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️

It really isn't surprising after everything with hell, Esther, and Niko, that Edwin shifts.

He looks exhausted, and Charles still sees him terrifed and bloody in Hell when he closes his eyes, swaying a little bit where he stands listening to Crystal, and Charles knows what's going to happen before it happens.

The softly glowing orb doesn't even have a chance to drop before Charles snatches it, carefully tucking it away in his coat. It's a warm, little weight against his side.

He loves Crystal, Edwin does too even though he huffs about it, but she doesn't need to see Edwin like this. No one needs to see Edwin like this. The thought of it feels like calling attention to an open wound, advertising a vulnerable spot for someone to exploit or further hurt.

Thankfully, they're all finally free to go home. He doesn't like the idea of leaving Crystal but there's a growing itch to get back home and she shoves him towards the mirror and tells him she's meet up with them later.

Neither Charles or Edwin like being out when one of them is like this.

The first few time it happened, Charles hadn't really thought about it too much. And it happened a lot those first years after his death. He often overdid it, everything going fuzzy before going dark, and then he'd wake up, usually pressed against Edwin's side on the little couch. He always woke up on or next to Edwin and it'd been startling the first few times but he always wakes up comfortable now, no rush to get up.

The first time Edwin shifted in front of Charles, he panicked. Refused to let go of him until, after what seemed like days, Edwin shifted back. Still relaxed enough that he hadn't immediately shoved himself off Charle's lap and he hadn't fought the hug too hard either.

He's only see Edwin like that a few times but to be on the other side of it, he understands why Edwin always relaxes when Charles shifts back. It's a powerful and terrifying feeling, to hold something so small and vulnerable and know it's the most important person in the world to you.

As he got to know Edwin more, Charles had the horrible realization that Edwin had been in Hell for over 70 years and surely he must have been exhausted plenty of times when down there. What happened to him when he shifted?

Charles didn't know what Hell looked like or what really happened down there but he pictured the little orb rolling around on the floor, being kicked, or someone finding other ways to hurt it. He had finally asked, so worked up he hadn't even thought about if Edwin would want to talk about, because he needed to know.

He'd gotten a gentle look from Edwin and an answer.

While he was absolutely exhausted in hell, he never shifted. Hell takes a lot of things away and the relief of sleep or unconsciousness is one of them.

So, honestly, Edwin had lasted longer than Charles thought he would. He half expected that he'd have to lunge for the orb as soon as they fell back through the door from Hell.

Thinking too much about Hell and Esther makes him a nasty mix of furious and terrified, so he forces himself to focus on the present.

He holds Edwin closer his chest as he sinks onto the couch. He's emotionally exhausted and in the silence of everything, finally has a moment to think about the love confession on the stairs of hell.

He doesn't know what to do with that liar but he was right when he told Edwin they had forever to figure it out.

He lays out on the couch, feet hanging off the far end and his head on the armrest, the orb on his chest and his hands almost petting at it. Holding it like this means that when Edwin shifts back he'll be sprawled over Charles, something that will probably have him flustered and immediately trying to get up and off.

Charles hopes he's sleepy and comfortable when he changes back though, that he just settles there without over thinking it.

Just the two of them existing together in the same space.

[sommerbueckers]

My Brother's Best Friend Pt3??

(smut😏)

A small breeze crept through my open window and a chill settled in my bedroom. I typed away on my computer, trying to finish up the last of my homework before Thanksgiving break came to an end. The week had been exactly what I thought it'd be and some change; Paige and Micha came home from college and spent the entirety of the break playing Fortnite and arguing over silly superheroes. The rest of the Bueckers family joined us for Thanksgiving dinner too where Drew graced us with a few of his dance moves. And to top it all off, I had gotten a 25% discount on a pair of Ugg boots for being the first person to purchase from the website on Black Friday.

I finished off the last of the water in my bottle, twisting the cap back on and tossing it toward the trash. I missed, badly. The sound of the plastic defeatedly hitting floor echoed through the room, though it wasn't louder than the laugh that came after it. I snapped my head to my door to find Paige standing there with her arms crossed, leaning against the frame. She had that adorable stupid smile plastered on her face as she looked at me.

"That couldn't have been worse if you tried" she laughed.

I rolled my eyes, twisting the chair around as I said, "Micha isn't here."

"I know that," she nodded, "I just got off the phone with him."

"So...why're you here?" I frowned.

"What? I can't visit my favorite cheerleader now?" the blonde asked with a pout, "That hurts my heart Sunny."

My unimpressed look didn't falter.

After a moment of silence she sighed, seemingly struggling to say what she was thinking.

"You and Micha are driving back today, shouldn't you be packing or something?" I asked, "Unless I've got the date wrong."

I stood up and walked over to the calendar I had hooked on the wall. My eyes traveled over to the large red circle, inside the writing read 'Paige and Micha go bye-bye:(.'

Paige cleared her throat from behind me, "No, you've got it right."

I turned around, staring at her from across the room.

"I just-"

"You just what?" I interrupted without thinking.

"I came to say goodbye" she admitted.

"Goodbye to me?"

"Yes you."

"Why me?"

"Jesus Sunny!" she exclaimed with a smile, "I can't say 'goodbye' to you?"

"No you, you can," I stammered.

Paige nodded contently, "Good."

She pushed off the doorway and began walking toward me, her arms opening the closer she got. I wasted no time wrapping my arms around her neck and pulling her close to me. We hugged for a little lot longer than we should've, both too embarrassed to say it but not enough to show it. I breathed in her scent, hoping to remember it long enough for it to last until I saw her again.

I loved the way I had to stand on my toes to reach her, how she never complained about having to bend over to hug me. Though truth be told I don't think she really minded.

I had gotten used to the sound of her laughter again as it rang throughout the house, how she always did the same celebration dance when she beat Micha in a game, how she never failed to make me feel seen whenever we were in the same room. I was crushing so hard on this girl it wasn't even funny.

When we pulled away, she took a step back.

"Were you serious when you said you were gonna unplug your tv if one of my games came on?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"And miss the chance to see you all sweaty? No way..." I smirked.

She laughed loudly, I wanted to record it and add it to my Spotify playlist. Instead, I checked my watch and sighed.

"What time are you guys leaving?" I asked.

Paige shrugged, "Not sure, whenever he gets back I guess."

"Hmm," I hummed, "that could take hours."

I stepped closer.

"Yeah," she laughed, "or he could be back any minute."

She stepped closer.

At that point, you could cut the tension with a knife. I stared at her; ski slope nose, blue eyes, perfect teeth hiding behind those perfect lips. I just needed to last until winter break, that was only two weeks. I had gone far longer than that before, so surely I could do that...couldn't I? God I needed wanted her so bad.

In an instant her lips were on mine, her hands cupping my face as she held me in place. For a moment I was frozen, my eyes wide with shock while my brain processed what was happening. And when it did...boy did things take a turn. I pulled her closer by her shirt, our bodies pressing against each other as much as they could.

I felt her hands move from my face down to my ass, squeezing roughly. I laughed when her tongue slipped into my mouth, sending a fuzzy feeling from my chest down to my thighs. I couldn't help but let out the quietest moan at the feeling, my need for her growing with every second that passed.

I couldn't believe this was happening; Paige and I, me and Paige. It felt like sophomore year all over again, except I was sure by now, both of us had gained enough experience to actually have some fun. The thought of Paige fucking other girls was almost enough to make me cringe...almost. I didn't though, because right now those other girls didn't matter, I did.

She turned us around and pressed me against my vanity, my hands immediately grasping the edge of it to keep me from losing my balance.

We broke away from our kiss, giggling like schoolgirls at the way my perfume bottles and lotions had fallen from the sudden force.

"Too much?" she asked breathlessly.

I shook my head, "Not enough."

As she reconnected our lips, she trailed her hand up and down my inner thigh. I opened my legs, giving her access to where she wanted.

"Wider" she said.

I obliged, parting my legs further to allow her hand to trail closer to my spot.

This girl could tell me to jump and I'd ask 'How high?'

I felt her hand slide into the waistband of my leggings, and by her smile, I knew she had discovered how intense my need for her had gotten. I knew I was soaked, she knew I was soaked...now what was gonna be done about it?

She rubbed my clit through my panties so painfully slow that I could feel myself crumbling bit by bit.

I whined as I threw my head back, "Faster Paige, please faster."

She placed soft kisses on my neck, teasing me as she moved my panties from side to side. I was fucking throbbing. When she had finally had enough, she slowly began moving her fingers up and down my folds. I moved my hips to match the pace, my shaky breaths filing the room.

Up and down.

Circles.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Circles.

The patterns were driving me insane, and my shaky breaths soon turned into tiny whimpers. I wanted to come at the sight of her: staring down at me hungrily with those gorgeous eyes. Her lip taken in between her teeth as she focused her attention on pleasing me.

I was a needy mess. My face rested in a permanent pout as we held eye contact, my cheeks growing hot. She laughed lowly, almost as if she was teasing me. I felt her fingers speed up as she rubbed circular motions on my clit, it was so sensitive it almost hurt.

"F-fuck...just like that" I moaned out, nodding my head.

"Mmm you like that?" she smirked, once again changing her speed.

"Yes..." I whispered breathlessly.

Her middle finger razzed my entrance, pushing in only a little before pulling back out. She was enjoying the effect she had on me, the way she gauged my face for a reaction every time she did something new gave her away. Steadily, she inserted a finger. I gasped, sucking in all the air around me. I smiled at the sound that cut through the silence as she began to fuck me. Having to hear how wet I was for her was embarrassing, but I didn't even care.

"Faster" I pleaded shamelessly.

She laughed.

"Tell me how much you want it" she demanded.

She wanted me to talk? Of all things that she could've been hearing: moans, whimpers, strings of curse words as she fucked me senseless, she wanted to hear sentences? When I didn't respond she pulled her finger out, her left hand gripping the back of my neck while her right rested just outside of my entrance.

"I want it," I said, my voice pathetically desperate, "I want it so fucking bad."

She smiled smugly, giving me the most delicate kiss on my lips that I had ever gotten. She didn't back away as she slammed two fingers into me, listening for my reaction. She didn't have to listen very hard because the scream that I had let out was loud enough to alert the neighbors. She couldn't hold back her laughter as she watched my face contort from the pain and pleasure. She began pumping her fingers in and out, giving me time to adjust to it before quickening her pace.

"You're doing so good for me" she whispered, not taking her eyes off mine. "You take me so well."

I tried to play it cool but I just couldn't. I had gripped her shoulder tightly with one hand while keeping the other firmly behind me. The most pitiful moans fell from my lips as she started to speed up. I was practically dripping as I came close to my climax. I tried to hold it, not wanting this euphoric feeling to end, but I couldn't help it as I tightened around her.

"You gonna be a good girl and come for me, hm?" she asked teasingly.

"Y-yes" I panted.

"Yeah I know you are, go 'head mama" she cooed.

I buried my head into her shoulder as I came, my sweet cries muffled by the fabric of her t-shirt. She held her fingers in me for a moment, helping me through my orgasm before carefully sliding them out. I shuddered at the absence of them.

She smiled proudly at her hand, slowly bringing it to her mouth and sucking her fingers clean. She's definitely done that before. She pulled me in for a hug and kissed my head, "You're so adorable."

I smiled against her chest, and that's when we heard the front door open. Micha was home.

"I think that's my cue" she murmured into my hair.

I nodded sadly. "Two weeks?"

"Two weeks."

OKAY GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE ???🙏🏼🙏🏼 This smut was not very good but it's literally my first time ever ACTUALLY writing it so...how'd I do???

Just let me get some more practice and I promise y'all won't be disappointed, trust. Also this wasn't proofread so if there are any typos or whatever that's my bad...

[yelenasdiary]

Hiii

I saw your requests say open, but I know you're struggling with motivation to get content out so absolutely no pressure for you to do this.

I'd really love a Wanda x diabetic!reader shot where reader isn't looking after themselves very well and isn't checking their blood sugar. They've been feeling bad the last couple of days and keep trying to sleep it off. They end up having a seizure due to their bloods being so low and Wanda gives a stern but needed talking to.

Again, no pressure for you to write this but it'd be strongly appreciated. Thank you :)

Feeling Low

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Diabetic! Avenger! Reader (Platonic)

Summary: After having a seizure due to ignoring your low blood sugar, Wanda gives you a much needed talking to. 

Angst, Comfort.

Warnings: Mentions of Low Blood levels, Reader has a Seizure| 0.8K

AC: Thank you for sending this, please note that I am not diabetic, so I only write this based off research. If I have said anything wrong, please don’t hesitate to let me know so I can come back and fix it. I hope you enjoy this x 

Since the last mission was a bust, you swore to better yourself for the team. You worked harder in the gym, harder in training, longer making sure that mission reports had every single detail you could remember. On top of all of that, you’ve had little to no time for yourself. If you weren’t working on yourself, you were helping the young avengers with training and any other things they asked for. 

All this overworking yourself caught the eye of everybody in the team but especially Wanda. She’s your closest friend, how could she not notice the signs before anybody else? She has always kept an eye on you because you have always been there for her when nobody else was and being an Avenger has its risks. 

During the week, you started to feel unwell. You thought it was just all the extra work you’d been giving your body but the more you tried to sleep it off, you never felt better. You made your way downstairs to get yourself a bottle of water when it hit you. Your seizure took over and you fell to the cold floor. Your body moved uncontrollably, Wanda rushed to your aid, yelling out for help as she gently moved you, so you were laying on your side. Natasha called for medical who wasted no time rushing to help. 

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, you were tired, and your body ached. Wanda was sitting beside your bed in the medical bay reading a book you could barely read the title of. “What happened?” You asked in a soft mutter, your mouth felt dry. Wanda looked up at you, placing her book down after placing her bookmark on her current page. 

“You had a diabetic seizure” she replied. 

“W-what? No, I couldn’t have” you frowned, “I always check my levels” you added. 

“It seems like you haven’t been checking them for the last few days” Wanda lent forward, placing her hand on top of yours, “you’ve been working yourself to the ground to prove yourself when you don’t need too” she added. 

You shook your head, wanting nothing more than to avoid the conversation, “I must have just gotten busy and forgot” you argued, beating yourself up on the inside for letting this to happen. Wanda sensed that you weren’t in the mood to talk about your health right now and she didn’t want to push you. “Get some rest, you need it” she smiled softly reminding you just how tired you were. 

----

The next day, after you were discharged from the medical bay, you found Wanda waiting by your room. “Is everything okay?” You asked, opening the door to your room.

“We need to talk” Wanda replied, following after you and closing your door behind her. “Wands, you don’t need to give me the talk” you sighed. 

“I do” Wanda said sternly, “I need you to understand how important this is. This isn’t just another seizure or a mistake, Y/n” she added. You could hear the concern and worry in her tone as you turned to face her. 

“You’re my closest friend. I can’t lose you, okay? I’ve seen a lot of things but seeing you like that and there was nothing I could do? It broke me. I know you have this need to prove to us that you didn’t mean for that mission to go bust but ignoring your health and blood levels isn’t going to do that. We all love you; we know that what happened wasn’t your fault. Nobody is beating you up about it but yourself and I won’t allow you to do this to yourself. 

I will help you with whatever you need, you know I will. But I need you to promise me that you’ll take better care of your health. I don’t mind if you need me to remind you to check your levels or take your insulin, damn I will even follow you around with a stash of bananas if I need too” she added. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her last comment, your smile also bringing a smile to her lips. “I’m sorry I worried you” you replied, “I guess you’re right. I got carried away with work that I didn’t stop to think about myself, and I promise from now on I won’t let my levels get so low again” you added before embracing Wanda into a tight hug. You she needed it just as much as you did, she hugged you back just as tight. 

“I love you, please don’t forget that either” she said softly. 

“You literally just threatened to follow me around with a stash of banana’s, how could I not love you?” You replied as you both pulled away, causing you both to chuckle. “Have you checked your levels today?” She asked. 

“Yep! Wasn’t allowed to leave medical unless I had” you smiled. 

“Good, so they did listen to me” Wanda smirked.

Taglist:  @boredandneedfanfics | @music-4ever | @karmasgxrl | @milkeeteaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @swaqcenix | @mostlymarvelsstuff | @scarlettbitchx | @mallyka-blog | @itsalwaysskorpioszn | @caporal-nino | @natashamaximoff-69 | @evilcr0ne | @boredandneedfanfics | @teganmiller | @ihavezeroclue13 | @tobiaslut | @anonwhowrites | @itsmelulu | @koinsss | @cigarsandscotchallday | @nuianced-tck-enby | @springsheep | @prentgarcialuvr | @stayevildarling | @mommysgoodlittlebrat | 

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

[syrena-del-mar]

Navigating the Conflict in My Stand In: Surrender and Softening in Love

(Disclaimer: Ming/Joe is an incredibly toxic relationship; I fully realize and acknowledge that, but Poom makes a critical distinction in Joe's reasoning, and I think it's interesting to dissect. Also, this is fiction.)

It's been some time since I've written any meta, but I can't stop thinking about the video @poomphuripan shared of Poom making the distinction that Joe isn't giving in to Ming, but rather, his heart is melting for him.

It makes so much sense that Joe would melt at the littlest semblance of 'love.' He was so alone for so long. His parents have been dead for longer than he had them, he has no siblings, and his extended relatives don't care about him. I forget if it's mentioned in the show, but in the novel, Joe had a pretty big crush on Sol, and Sol rejected him quite brutally. Even without meaning to be, Joe is always alone at the end of the day.

Yes, Joe has friends, and yes, Joe made his own found family. But at the end of the day, Joe would return to an unlit, empty home. Everyone else would return to their wives or families, while Joe could only return to the pictures of his parents. Meanwhile, for all of Ming's bs and frightening behavior, he was the only one that made his dream come true.

For the first time, with Ming around, Joe would come home and be greeted by the warmth of another living, breathing person. Joe craved to have a human bond, and Ming was the one who was willing (albeit for his own interest) to give it to him. And he cooked for him. He took up space in his home! He remembered the very things Joe had told him he longed for. They had a lot of good times, a lot of good memories, and a pretty set routine that really integrated Ming into Joe's life. But then they fight, his blissful reality breaks, and Joe dies.

But Joe wakes up from what feels like a day's nap when, in actuality, two years have passed. And what does he find? Ming has cared for his apartment since his death and is unwilling to change anything just in case Joe returns. Ming continues to fulfill Joe's dream of returning to a warm home. So he turns on the lights, and he cooks the same dinner that they used to share for two years. And even in his rightful anger of wanting Ming to leave him alone, he's still seeing that. In the two years since his disappearance, someone still thought about him and hadn't fully grieved him. Ming's brother only confirms that.

Giving in would mean that Joe wanted to end the fight with Ming, when no feelings had changed. It'd be him emotionally surrendering himself, compromising his feelings of being just a double for Tong, and fully conceding himself when he still thought that Ming only saw him as a replacement. While Joe might have given Ming access to his body to pay his new mom's debts, he was still blocking Ming out as much as he could. But that's not why Joe forgives Ming; it's not for a superficial reason to stop the feud. There's a visible shift in how he perceives Ming, the guy who waited two years for him, who protected and filled his home with warmth, just in case he wasn't really gone. His motivation was rooted in the slivers of positive feelings he had for Ming, which allowed him to move past the anger that he held for him.

A quote that I've seen floating around the internet for years comes to mind. "And when nobody wakes you up in the morning and when nobody waits for you at night and when you do whatever you want. What do you call it? Freedom or loneliness?" Joe has had that freedom for the majority of his whole life. It's no longer freedom for him. But even his found family isn't fully aware of the loneliness that would wash over him when he would return to an empty home.

After all is said and done, he sees that only one person knows him intimately enough to understand and learn even the most mundane of his desires. Ming, even with all the toxic shit he has pulled, stood by his word of not letting Joe return to an empty home. For Joe, that was enough. It changes how he sees and understands Ming.

It's also why Sol and Joe would have never worked out.

As Poom said, ultimately, it's not that he gives in to Ming but rather he lets his heart melt when he sees exactly what Ming has done for him in his absence.

Even after everything, Joe still loves him.

[g0ry0re0]

"Two Sugars" - Part 2, Derek Danforth (The Beekeeper, 2024, Film) - Imagine

Description: As promised by Derek Danforth himself, an at-home coffee date takes a turn for the not-so-unexpected. / Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

General Notes: 18+, MDNI!!, Pure Smut, Some Plot (barely), Gender Neutral Reader (no use of Y/N, no mention of specific genitalia, "hole" and "entrance" are used), A Little Bit Of Nipple Play, Not-Sanitary Kitchen Sex, Oral Sex (reader and derek), Use Of Lube And Spit, Fingering (reader), Penetrative Sex (reader), No Use Of A Condom, Creampie (reader), Second Person POV, Use Of Pet Names ("sugar", "baby", "pretty thing"), Dirty Talk/Banter, Some Degradation (toward reader, "slut"), Some Praise (toward reader), Use Of Curse Words (derek says fuck a lot + others), A Little Bit Of Abuse Of Power, Reader Has A Little Internal Dialogue (italics)

Author's Note: Author's first smut! Lol. This took a lot, so I'm totally open to any critiques regarding this! This is also officially the longest thing I've ever written on Tumblr. Shoutout to @anal-spaghetti-monster for helping proofread this! Enjoy!

Word Count: 3,712 Words

Part 1

This car was way too fancy for your taste. You nervously pull down on your top as you look around, fiddling with the edge of it and slightly fraying the ends. It's got practically an entire bar lined up behind the driver and a goddamn sunroof. You're almost tempted to stand out of it like you're straight out of a coming-of-age film. Are those all-around seat warmers? You continue to ogle at the intricacies of the vehicle currently taking you to a billionaire's house. Your boss's house. This was almost too much for you to handle.

Before you can spiral over the thought, the car pulls into an extremely lavish-looking mansion, completely glazing over any thoughts you have on the mode of transportation. The vehicle stops and the driver runs around the car to open the door for you, holding his hand out and almost bowing as you step out of the car.

"O-oh," you stutter out, not used to this sort of treatment. "Thank you."

You look up toward the large staircase leading to the mansion's front door and see a figure standing at the top. You can see smoke flowing from the figure briefly before dissipating. The wind blowing made you realize you forgot to bring a coat. You shiver as you walk up the stairs to meet the figure, which you can see clearer now. Mr. Danforth himself. He was smiling as he took another hit from his pen, blowing the smoke toward you with little remorse. Once the smoke clears, you take in his attire. He hadn't changed. Still wearing that ugly green print button-up and orange jacket. Still very tacky. He sticks his pen in his pocket and reaches his hand out to you, still smiling.

"Hey, sugar."

You roll your eyes playfully, smiling back as you reach your hand out toward his. He brings your hand up to his lips. Ever the charmer...

"Come on in." He gently pulls you closer to him and leads you inside his house, the door being opened by another one of his staff members.

Derek walks in first, taking you with him as he lets you look around. The inside was just as impressive as you imagined it'd be. It was more formal than you anticipated, but still expensive-looking nonetheless.

"Nice, right?" He smiles at you, looking you up and down.

"It is...really nice..." You trail off, still taking in your surroundings.

You're not sure if you've ever even been in a mansion before. He lets you admire for a few moments longer before breaking the silence.

"Well, I did promise you coffee, didn't I? Follow me."

He pulls you away, fixing your gaze back to him and leading you to an adjacent room. The kitchen, where a couple of his staff members are standing at attention, waiting for him to bark whatever orders he has at them. He shoos them away with a wave of his hand before turning back to you. Well, alright, I guess. You make a bit of a face, unintentionally, causing Derek to glance at you.

"Don't worry about them, baby."

He drops your hand and looks toward a large bar-looking wall in the kitchen, affixing your attention to it as well.

"This," he gestures to that section, "is my drink bar. Coffee, teas, cocktails, mocktails. You name it, I got it."

You stand there, gaze fixed on the counter in awe. He doesn't give you a chance to say anything before speaking again.

"I can make you anything you want. Flat white, matcha latte, piña colada..." He trails off before looking back at you. "A black coffee with two sugars." He adds teasingly.

You give him a knowing smile before moving closer. He lets you walk around it, observing its many details for a few minutes. A Jura double brew machine? A Simonelli espresso maker? Not to mention, a million different kinds of liquor and juices. How could someone even fathom owning this much stuff?

He looks you up and down without your knowledge, taking his time ogling at your curves. Both of you are in awe of different things. When you take a moment to lean on the counter, Derek makes a bold move of coming up behind you, pressing you against the edge with his hands on your hips. You gasp and try to look back at him, almost unsuccessfully because of the angle. He rubs his hands along your clothes waist.

Bringing his lips close to your ear, he purrs, "I think we all know why you're really here though, sugar."

You knew this was going to happen, he wasn't subtle about it even in the office. But it still took you by surprise, how quickly he got into it. You can feel him start to press kisses to the back of your neck, recapturing your attention. Derek begins lifting the slightly frayed edge of your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin on his slightly cold hands. He leaves a few pecks behind your ear before speaking.

"This alright?" He asks, giving you a tender squeeze.

You nod your head, reveling in the feeling of his touch, which is visibly overwhelming your senses.

He makes a noise of disapproval. "Need to hear words, sugar, or we're not doing this."

"Y-yes. Please." You almost can't believe how eager you were already. You can only hope that having sex with your boss doesn't have that terrible of repercussions.

He hums in approval now. "There they are." He comments, almost to himself.

He lifts your top up higher, ghosting his fingers over your skin, his touch warmer now. You shiver for the second time that night. You allow him to pull your top over your head and toss it somewhere on the floor before you turn around. His hands slide further up your waist, getting closer to your chest as he looks up at you for permission.

"Wait." You pause as he looks at you with concern. "What if someone comes in?" You whisper and Derek chuckles.

"Trust me, no one will come in. I made sure of that."

You hesitantly let out a breathless, "Yeah, okay," before he brings his hand up, toying with both of your nipples. You release some soft noises as he lightly twists and runs his thumbs over your now stiff peaks. He brings his mouth down to one of them and moves his tongue, circling it. He gently bites down while pulling on the other and looks up at you.

You look back down at him as he starts kissing up your chest, making his way up to your neck where he leaves little love bites. He sucks on your skin in between soft bites, making his way up and down your chest, marking you as his. He makes his way back up, leaving kisses on your jaw before finally making his way to your lips, pausing briefly. You nod, his lips already practically pressed against yours, your breaths mingling.

He goes in for the kill, pressing his lips on yours fully. Your lips molded together feel like heaven, smacking against one another in the wettest, messiest way possible. His hands go from messing with your chest to groping your waist. To pushing on your hips. To fondling that fat of your thighs. Your hands weren't doing much different, one hand gripping and rubbing his shoulder. The other was tangled in his hair, pulling and tugging lightly, causing him to let out some groans into your mouth.

He pulls away enough to talk with his lips still pressed to yours. "You're driving me insane..." He breathes into you.

He bites your bottom lip to open your mouth up to his, shoving his tongue in unceremoniously. You're letting out soft noises of pleasure in his mouth, enjoying what little he's giving you, but you need more. You give his shoulder a squeeze, breaking away from one another after a few moments with a string of spit connecting you both. He maintains eye contact as he lowers his body, dropping to his knees in front of you, and running his hands along you as he goes. It feels almost surreal, to see the CEO of the company you work at submit to you, wanting to please you.

He begins to pull down your bottoms, still maintaining eye contact, taking your undergarments with them. You let him pull them down, stepping out of your shoes before kicking them away. He leaves a mix of sloppy kisses and harsher bites on your shins, calves, and thighs as he makes his way closer to your throbbing arousal. You wince every time he leaves a bite, but it feels undeniably so good.

The tension in the room was so thick, it could be cut with a knife. Derek looks up at you one last time before finally putting his mouth on you, causing you to let out a loud moan before you slap your hand over your mouth. He circles his tongue while he pinches your thigh, signaling that he wants you to uncover your mouth, which you do reluctantly. He alternates between sucking and licking before moving down to your entrance, wetting it in preparation.

He brings your leg up on his shoulder as he focuses on your hole, every once in a while sticking his tongue in, stretching you out just enough to keep you on the edge. Your core tightens as tears line your eyes and you bring a hand down to tangle in his bleached, curly hair again; the other gripping the counter for dear life. The air is filled with the wet sounds of Derek stroking your flesh with his tongue and your nearly pornographic-sounding moans. There's no way his staff can't hear you two right now. A rush of embarrassment runs through you before you realize that he probably does this enough to where they're used to it.

Before you can let that thought spiral, you feel Derek groan in you before slowly removing your leg from his shoulder and rising back up to your level. Wordlessly, he brings a hand up to your face, almost tenderly ghosting his thumb over your chin. Before you can lean in for another kiss, he holds his middle and ring finger up to your lips. Knowing immediately what he wants, you take his fingers in your mouth. Derek bites back a groan as you seductively swirl your tongue around his fingers, lubing them up for what you're sure he's going to do.

"Good slut..." He says offhandedly, almost moaning it before pulling them out of your mouth with a wet-sounding pop.

He makes his way back down your body, still keeping eye contact as he puts your leg back over his shoulder. He brings his fingers to your entrance and delicately circles it, teasing you. Just as he pouts his mouth back on you, he slowly inserts his fingers, stretching you open slightly. As his fingers and mouth bring you closer and closer to the brink of pleasure, you focus on chasing it as his fingers scissor you open.

"Fuck...oh, Derek. God..."

Your stomach tightens again and your legs threaten to give out as you let out the loudest noises you think you've ever made. Derek can feel your hole fluttering around his fingers, which makes him groan into your flesh again. Before you can even think of reaching your peak, Derek pulls out his fingers and makes his way back up to you, getting face-to-face.

"How ya doin', pretty thing?" Derek inquires playfully, going back to toying with your nipples.

You take a moment to catch your breath, only egging Derek on even more.

"What's that? Cat got your tongue?" Cheeky bastard...

"You're good at that." You finally whisper, not able to say much.

He laughs a bit.

"I can think of a few other things I'm good at." He pinches one of your nipples.

"'M gonna fuck you so good you won't wanna sit down for long at the office tomorrow. Then I'll fuck you some more. How about that?"

"Please." You breathe out desperately.

He leans in to kiss you once more, even messier this time, teeth practically clashing from the eagerness on both of your parts. Feeling bolder, you bring your hand gripping the counter down to Derek's waistband, gently running your fingers across it, asking for permission. He smiles into the kiss and pulls away, only slightly.

"Go ahead, sugar, I'm all yours."

This gives you the confidence to reach into his pants and grasp at his dick, still concealed by his boxers. As you grope him, you realize just how underdressed you are in comparison and look up at him. He looks back at you, biting his lip to conceal his noises as you bring your hands to remove his jacket, dropping it to the ground. Then you bring your hands down to unbutton his shirt, going at a faster pace. He tears off his button-up and you run your hands over his now-exposed chest after throwing it somewhere in the kitchen.

You slowly get down on your knees as you pull down his pants and he rests his hand on your head. You look up at him as you pull down his boxers, his length slapping up to his stomach causing him to hiss. You start to tentatively run your fingertip up the side of his member, tracing a prominent vein; you didn't want to tease him for too long, though. Both of you were too excited for that. You grip him softly and run your tongue along his tip, smearing his precum around before finally wrapping your lips around the first few inches. Derek is having trouble stifling his noises now, as he has been letting out whimpers with every little touch you provide him. You rest one of your hands on his tensed stomach now, almost comfortingly, and your other hand is wrapped around the base of his shaft as you take most of him in your mouth.

"Your mouth feels so fuckin' perfect..." He trails off, nearly mumbling.

Looking up at his minuscule expressions, you start bobbing your head at a slow pace, using your hand on what you can’t fit in your mouth. Derek grips the back of your head harder, now freely letting out moans of pleasure as he moves your head to go faster. You pull off briefly to let a glob of spit drip down onto him, spreading it along the length with your hand before putting him back in your mouth. You can start to feel the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, making you gag lightly, even more drool dripping down the corners of your mouth. He looks down at you, bliss written all over his face, eyes drooping as he tries to look at the mess you’ve become underneath him. He begins thrusting into your mouth, gently at first, getting a feel for your mouth and your tolerance before he starts thrusting a bit harder, gripping your scalp.

“God, you look so fucking good choking on my cock.”

Before you can process it, he pulls you off of him, nearly yanking you up by your shoulders and stepping out of his black pants, kicking them off somewhere on the floor along with his shoes. He turns you around and bends you over the bar as he presses kisses to your lower back.

“You get off on this, baby? Sleeping with your boss?” He taunts. “You get off on fucking the CEO of the company you work at?” He mirrors his words from earlier that day as he runs his hands along your sides.

All you can let out is a meek moan as he laughs.

“Too fucked out already to talk?” He asks and moves his hand down to repeat the pinch of the skin on your thigh playfully.

You can feel him leave for a moment so you briefly turn around. You see him rifling through his pants pocket before finding what he wanted: a bottle of lube. This asshole… You raise an eyebrow at him as he smirks.

“Can never be too prepared, right, sugar?” He teases.

“So, you can have lube at the ready but not a condom?” You ask, jokingly, gaining your voice back.

He looks back at you, giving you a goofy smile. “Feels better without one, baby. You know that.”

You roll your eyes as he pours a more-than-generous amount on his middle fingers before moving them back to your entrance. He presses his free hand on your lower back to bend you further over the counter as he circles your hole. You whimper out of desperation and push yourself back, wanting more. He presses harder on your back to keep you still as he finally inserts his fingers, gently loosening you up and providing the stimulation you need. You can feel the excess lube dripping down your legs, making a mess on the kitchen floor. After a few blissful moments, he slowly pulls his fingers out, watching the way you clench around nothing as his fingers fully leave your body.

“Fuck, look at you, baby.” He slurs as he presses your face into the surface with his clean, dry hand.

Finally, he lines himself up with your lubed-up entrance. He doesn’t take the time to tease you before he slowly begins to ease himself in, inch by inch. The stretch almost burns as he slowly bottoms out. After a few moments, his hips are connected with yours and he stills for a minute, causing the burning feeling to only grow slightly.

Derek groans. “Jesus, fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he mumbled, starting to ramble.

“So fucking good,” he repeats, starting to move inside of you, only a little bit at first; quite gentle as he was getting a feel for you. One of his hands was holding your hip, pushing it against the edge of the countertop, causing it to dig into your hip bone almost painfully. The other was still pressing your face on top of the surface roughly. The roughness didn’t stop there, as Derek began to thrust harder and with longer strokes, moving even faster after a few minutes.

The only sounds that could be heard in the kitchen were your meek whimpers, Derek’s groans, and the lewd slaps of wet skin on skin. You began to move your own body with his as much as you could under his grip, and he let you. Both of you move in unison, sounds of absolute sin filling the air making the scene an unruly picture for anyone who might walk in. Your eyes start to roll to the back of your head as you muttered nonsensical strings of curses along with some sobs and wails.

Derek runs the hand that was previously on your hip along your back, smearing it with lube as you are now fully moving with him. “You’re driving me insane. You look so fucking good like this. Bent over my bar, stuffed full of my cock, in my fucking mansion.”

“You’re mine.” He growled into your ear with a particularly hard thrust.

The mix of lube, spit, and precum you could feel building up inside of you, slicking each little movement, was an intoxicating feeling for the both of you. Derek was letting out little whimpers now as your moans got louder.

“Been thinkin’ about this all day.” He mutters out, his pace growing even faster. “God, you’re such a whore. Fucking your boss like this. Bet you do this everywhere you’ve worked.” 

His thrusts start to falter, the harshness rising in intensity as you ground your ass against him harder. Derek pulled you away from the counter roughly and reached around you, stroking your heat. You started grasping at nothing, your fingers curling on the cold marble surface as your back arched. Without warning, Derek hit a spot inside you that had you yelling, your screams and chants of his name being heard as you finally came. Both of you could feel your hole clenching hard around Derek’s length as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby.” Derek slurred as his body stuttered.

Your release covered Derek’s hand as his hips stilled, pumping hot ropes of cum inside of you. He only moved a little bit as he hits his peak, just to feel his own cum being pushed deeper into you. You both stay still after a few moments, catching your breath and coming down from your simultaneous orgasms. Derek stayed inside of you for longer than you expected, causing you to finally look back at him, eyebrows raised. He smirks back at you, rubbing his hands soothingly along your waist again.

“What? I like being inside you.” He slaps your ass playfully as he pulls out, both of you moaning at the loss as his release and lube run down your legs and drip onto the tiles below.

You turn around to face him for the first time in a while and look at one another. Derek brings his hand up to your chin for the second time that night, tenderly running his thumb along your lips as you maintain eye contact. He glanced at your lips before pressing them together, the softest he’d done all night, contrasting almost every move he’d made since you arrived at his place. Despite being taken by surprise at his softness, you kiss back eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck as his other hand grips your hip. He pulls away and looks at you, an indescribable look in his eyes before smiling. He pulls away and walks over to the Jura machine, just beside you, and starts the coffee maker with the press of a button. He grabs two coffee mugs from the cupboard above you and places them down before glancing at you.

“Look like you need something to wake you up.” He turns to smirk at you for the millionth time that night, and definitely not the last time.

“Two sugars?” He inquires, holding up two fingers.

You smile back, turning your body towards him to the best of your ability, your legs shaking. “Two sugars.”

I have a little one-shot for this AU (?) planned, so keep an eye out because I'm pretty excited about it!

Masterlist Link

Divider: saradika and saradika-graphics on tumblr

Gif: mockingjaysnakes

[skiddlecat]

you know what? fuck it. the dynamic between taco and microphone is really interesting and dumbing it down to "evil terrible abuser and poor innocent victim" flattens both of their characters simultaneously.

they both hurt Each Other in ways that can't be undone!!! mic did her fair share of Fucking It Up Big Time as well and i think the way their fallout went down is the best example of times mic could have been better. and before anyone says it NO i'm NOT saying she didn't have a right to back out when she did but what i AM saying is that i think the way she handled cutting taco off showcases one of her biggest character flaws EXCELLENTLY:

when she's hurt by someone, she will hurt them back twice as hard. cheesy makes an insensitive joke? she calls him a monster. taco relapses in her bad habits? she weaponizes her past friendship with pickle. i'm pretty confident in saying both of these responses are Pretty Damn Disproportionate. and i think that's really interesting!!! we should talk more about this!!!!!!!!!

taco did a lot of bad things in their friendship and should absolutely be held accountable for it, but i also think simply calling her a heartless abuser is horribly undermining her character. like, imagine with me, if you will:

(post-writing note. HOLY SHIT this was way longer than i thought it'd be. putting the rest of this post under the cut because the previous paragraphs are pretty much all my thoughts but i kind of go into a full taco character analysis below. if you want to see that then keep reading i suppose LMAOOO)

you once accidentally formed a friendship with someone based off of a lie. you exposed the lie, sabotaged that relationship, and cut him off. that was the last conversation you had. a good while later you realize that, oh no, you actually DID care about this person, and you miss him! but he's GONE and it's YOUR FAULT!!! so you write. you write, you write, you write, hoping to get a response, but you never do.

and then. and then you find someone else. someone who's loud, chaotic, cast out. she reminds you a little too much of the lie you built for yourself. and so, you help her. for your own selfish reasons, sure, but you attempt to reign her in. she doesn't trust you at first, you don't trust her either, and you are... less than kind to her. it's not pretty, but at this point it doesn't really matter to you, because right now she's just a means to an end. she doesn't mean anything to you.

but slowly, over time, things start changing. she starts seeing past the brick walls you built around yourself. starts trying to break them down, little by little. you avoid, you resist, you do everything you can to prevent her from getting through, because vulnerability is frankly disgusting, and you don't want to talk about your problems anyway! but, this doesn't last. you actually apologize to her, for being so closed off, because you should be doing better, and she seems to appreciate it.

someone brings up that old friend to her. you get MAD. it's like rubbing salt in the wound, reminding you of every reason you're not happy, every reason you've been scared of getting too close. he suggests that you will leave her the same way you left him.

and. surprisingly. your ally does not side with him. she tells him you're changing. you're changing. she looks at you and all of your disgusting flaws, and she sees someone not beyond redemption. and you think that maybe. maybe you can trust her. maybe you CAN let your walls down. maybe you won't screw it up this time. and, and...

one mistake.

a pretty big one, granted, but a mistake nonetheless. you relapse into some bad habits, because the situation you entered was not the one you planned for. and she's mad. so mad, in fact, that she takes your old friendship, something she knows is a touchy subject, that hurts every time it's brought up, and she weaponizes it. she looks at you as if you mean nothing to her, and then she leaves. she leaves before you even have a chance to respond.

one. mistake.

one mistake is all it took for her to grow sick of you, for her to agree with all of the terrible things people say about you. and what hurts the most is that you TRUSTED her. you thought you could be open with her, you thought she was DIFFERENT. but no, she's not different. she's just like everyone else. and maybe, if the one person who believed you could be better gives up on you... maybe they're all right about you.

the walls are back up. they're thicker, stronger, and as far as you're concerned... it will take FAR more convincing to let anyone get through ever again.

...and then mepad comes along and says he doesn't even believe you're a bad person in the FIRST place, which is. astounding and very hard to believe but he's seeing you at your absolute worst being needlessly cruel to everyone and is STILL saying this with complete confidence so, fuck, kind of hard to keep THAT up for very long. then ii16 happens and you know the drill SHE'S DOING BAD.

hoo boy this went on for a lot longer than it was supposed to. anyway all this to say i think we should talk more about how they both hurt each other rather than push the narrative that one of them was "the abuser" and the other was "the victim" because frankly that's not even how it works in real life. thank you for coming to my ted talk i've been sitting on this for weeks afraid that i'd be told to kill myself over anons 👍

[annwrites]

a house in hawkins. part one.

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: billy finds you at a house in hawkins.

— tags: billy being infatuated with you just a lil

— tw: none

— word count: 1,984

— a/n: i love u ethel cain, tysm for the constant inspo; preacher's daughter is so amazing.

ooh i like this one, yes i do. i think this is the start of something good.

billy isn't going to be portrayed by me the same way he was in thoroughfare. he's an adult now & has grown into a man. i'm not saying he won't come off as a tad cocky at times, but he's going to be far more mature in this series.

He doesn't know why he cares so damn much. Why it piques his curiosity to begin with. But it does.

He'd, for the last two weeks, passed you every day on his way home from work.

You'd walk along the side of the road, before eventually turning off to the right, heading up a dirt path through the woods.

He wanted to know what was out there now. Some meadow? A swimming hole? A treehouse? He'd come up with many theories while sitting at home alone, having a microwavable dinner and a cold beer at the end of the night, hardly paying attention to whatever b-movie was playing on the little antenna color TV in front of him.

No. You were what he thought of. To an annoying level. He'd screwed up brake calipers one day at work with you on his mind. After that, he began to resent you a little. Some random girl with a backpack on her shoulders and no knowledge that he even existed.

He'd not even gotten to set eyes on your face yet. He'd taken in everything else he could, however.

Your long hair, tanned skin, the dresses and shorts you usually opted for in terms of attire, the bracelets that littered your wrists.

He would never, never admit to having gotten off one night in bed thinking about your tight backside swaying as you took step after step atop the same asphalt his tires rolled along. In truth, before that night, he couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered touching himself at all.

Once high school ended, and his father was no longer responsible for him, he'd been kicked out near-immediately and he'd changed as a person not long after. It'd been time to grow up. No more games.

He had crashed at this friend's place or that one's. Eventually, a homeless shelter or two. He worked odd-jobs until he saved up enough to begin renting an apartment. And then he found full-time employment at a mechanic shop. He stayed mostly to himself. The work was steady, the paychecks not usually all that much, but he saved little-by-little what he could, until he'd had enough for a down-payment on a fixer-upper on the outskirts of town.

He didn't want to live anywhere near where his father was.

He didn't mind the extra time it tacked onto his commute every day. Enjoyed it, really. It gave him time to think. Not that he wasn't always.

So, to get his head to quiet, he threw himself into work while at the shop, and into his new house once he was home every evening. The roof needed patching, the wiring re-done, the front steps replacing, the paint was chipping from the walls. The list was damn-near endless. But he liked that. It gave him something to do. His hands stayed occupied, if nothing else.

He earned a few more calluses in time from it all. He'd wondered once what you might think about a man with rough hands. Then wondered even more why the fuck he cared in the first place.

He didn't even know your name. And he was almost certain you were still in school. Unless you just liked carrying a backpack everywhere. Perhaps you went into those tall trees to camp. Perhaps a lot of things.

It's a Thursday when he finally decides to do it—follow you. Out of boredom, if nothing else. Or, that's the reasoning he gives himself, at least.

In truth, he wanted to know you. Ask you more questions than he was sure any normal person would probably be comfortable with. He wanted to see what was out here in the wilderness that seemed to draw you in so much that you returned day-after-day.

Then again, maybe you were meeting someone. A boyfriend, a girlfriend—a lover.

The thought makes his heart squeeze, which makes him feel just the least bit pathetic. He was no longer the boy he once was. The one that all other guys at Hawkins High wished to be, and all the girls there wished to be with. He'd become an after-thought to all of them now, he was sure. His glory days were long behind him.

But perhaps new memories could still be made.

The Camaro's tires crunch over twigs and dried leaves, rolling slowly between swaying trees of green, the path becoming more and more narrow until there's no place left for him to even turn around. He sighs, knowing he'll have to reverse the entire way back out of here.

He puts the sedan into park, exiting, his arms resting on the top of the car and the door frame as he gazes ahead, wondering what direction you'd possibly gone. He shakes his head then, closing and locking the driver's side door, pocketing his keys before—at least attempting, to follow after you.

The forest is littered with trees all around, Billy winding his way through them, looking back over his shoulder occasionally, wondering if he shouldn't head back to his car and go home. You were long gone by now. Maybe you'd already circled back around yourself, heading out and to...wherever it is that you live.

This was a stupid idea. Not that he hasn't had worse.

Just as he's ready to throw in the towel and settle for you remaining a mystery to him—perhaps he'd take the alternative of having answers to instead making up tales about you, who you are, where you go, and what you do when you get there—he comes into a clearing of tall grass, a rusted steel windmill in the distance, and a two-story house that looks just a tad dilapidated to the right of it.

Surely you weren't in there?

He continues walking, glad he's wearing pants as the weeds brush against his knees. He climbs the broken front steps, the wooden banisters rotting, until he's standing before a screen door at the front of the home—or, rather, house. A home at one time to someone, he was sure. But no longer, as it'd been clearly abandoned long-ago.

He raises his fist, wondering if maybe he should knock first, then lowers it.

He pulls the door toward him, stepping inside.

He takes a moment to look around first, glancing to each side of the empty domicile. A dining room is to his right, with a table that carpenter bees have clearly been making a meal out of for some time, and a sitting room to the left, an old sofa with missing cushions in the middle of it, a coffee table covered in dust before it.

He then heads for the staircase that lies straight-ahead.

The steps creak under his heavy boots, and he fears one of his feet may just fall through one if he doesn't step carefully. Once he's reached the second-story landing, he lets loose a small breath of relief.

He turns to his left and sees a long hallway, multiple doors on either side, some open, some closed, the summer sun shining against fading yellow wallpaper through open and broken windows within the rooms.

"Hello?" He calls, only half-expecting a response...which he's not given.

He begins to head down the hall, only peeking into the rooms as he passes them, looking for you.

"Anybody here?" He tries again, and is once again met with silence; only the sound of a gentle breeze outside greets him.

He stops when he finds a room three doors down on his right that has a dirty mattress on the floor. He doesn't want to imagine the things you'd discover—new kinds of bacteria—if you took a blacklight to it.

He stands in the middle of what he assumes used to be a bedroom, hands on his hips, and he looks to the open window at his right, a soft wind causing the tattered curtains to billow.

And then he hears it. A small creak to his left, and it's only then that he realizes there's a closet, with double doors, and he sees something shift on the other side through the wooden slits.

His heart begins to beat a bit faster as he comes closer, hands resting over the small knobs, and when he pulls it open, you're standing in the middle, back against the wall, staring up at him with wide eyes.

He looks down at you, heart skipping a beat, breath taken from him for just a moment at the sight of you. You were...beautiful.

"What're you hiding in a closet for?" He asks, then kicking himself. Hell of an opening, Billy.

Your brows furrow, wondering how it's not obvious. "I was hiding from you. Who...who are you?"

You take a step toward him and he takes one back.

He slides his hands into his pockets. "Billy...Hargrove. I live just-"

"I don't care. Why are you here?"

He raises a brow. Not quite the meek little mouse he'd initially assumed, then.

He takes a look around before settling his eyes back on you once again. "Thought this place was empty."

"Well...I'm here. I found it first."

His lip twitches. "So, this is where you've been coming every day for two weeks, huh?"

You shift uncomfortably. "How do you know that...?"

He jerks his head. "Saw you on my drive home last couple of weeks." He reaches up with his right hand then, running it over the curls at the back of his head nervously. "I got curious, I guess. About what was out here that was so interesting to make you keep coming back over and over again."

He looks back to the mattress, then to you. "You don't sleep here, do you, kid?"

You cross your arms at the infantilizing term. "I don't see how that's any of your business. Now that you know what's out here, feel free to leave."

He smirks. You were a firecracker. That much was for certain. Almost reminds him of himself once upon a time.

"Place looks like it should be condemned. If not tore down altogether."

You balk then. "You won't tell anyone. Will you?"

He shakes his head. "No. But, you do know it's not safe for you here, right? All alone like th-"

You pick up your backpack, shrugging it on. "I'm fine."

You head into another room, trying to get away from him—or, rather, hoping he'll finally get the hint that you'd like for him to leave—and he follows along behind you.

"Never told me your name."

You roll your eyes and stay silent.

He nods. "Strong, silent type, I get it. Guess I'll just have to guess. Is it-"

You turn back to him then, and he nearly trips trying not to fall against you. "Y/N."

He smiles. "Nice to meet you, Y/N."

You cock your head to the side for a moment. "I doubt it."

You head into another room then, slamming the door in his face.

He just grins as he turns the handle...and discovers it's now locked from the other side, smile falling.

He knocks then and is, of course, given no response.

He leans against the wall with his shoulder, arms crossed and he licks his lips. "I can wait all day. Got no place better to be."

All is quiet, until he hears something being shoved open on the other side of the door—a window? And then a thump.

Were...were you climbing down the side of the damn house?

He turns the handle again to no avail, so he then quickly walks down the hall, racing down the steps, and when he rounds the side of the house, he sees you jogging through the tall weeds, backpack bouncing as you disappear into the tree line.

He crosses his arms, smiling, shaking his head. "See you tomorrow, Y/N," he mutters to himself before turning around to start heading back to his car.

[fishsticksloser]

Can I request

Hobie x fem reader

The reader tries to keep Hobie a secret from her toxic family but Hobie ended up meeting them.

Thank you ❤️

Family Business

Hobie x fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, toxic family, angst, Hobit is a flirty bastard..., a bit of insecurity, Hobie tries to help you rebel cause that's what he does..., Mr. Hobart Brown is now a life coach...

A/N: I'm with you on this one, I wouldn't want him to meet some of my family. This became a lot longer than anticipated...

Sometimes it was a little exhausting keeping Hobie from your family. You tried not to be around your family at all, but sometimes it was unavoidable.

"Hey, Hobie?" You walk into the kitchen where Hobie was making lunch. You wring your hands anxiously. "My family is coming over so... Could you not be in the apartment tomorrow? I'm sorry its such late notice..."

"Oh?" He questions, turning to face you. "What's the occasion?" A wide grin pulling at his lip, eyes sparkling. He's never met your family, he finds himself intrigued by them though. Are they really that bad? "Sure. I'll find something to do." Hobie shrugs, it must be important if you're asking him to leave.

"They just decided they wanted to pop in. I just found out and they'll be here tomorrow afternoon." You sigh, a bit relieved that he was so understanding. "I'm really sorry."

"It's no big deal." Hobie reassures you with a smile. "Do they give you trouble or something?" He raises an eyebrow, concerned.

"Ah, well, yes..." You shrug lightly. "Mostly if they saw you, it'd be a whole thing." You make 'blow up' gestures.

"Oh, like a 'No Boys, Ever!' kina thing?" He asks, a bit of sarcasm in his tone. He chuckles a little, glancing down at you.

"No. No." You shake your head and frown slightly. "More of a 'why are you with this gorgeous man, you must be paying him' kinda thing and then it'll blow up, and..."

"Are you saying I'm too good looking for you?" Hobie queries, nudging your shoulder.

"You were a runway model, so yeah."

"Hey, I had to pay my rent somehow. They'll be up in your business about it, huh? I can handle that. No need for me to leave unless it'll make things harder for you."

"Believe me, once they see you and start asking questions, you'll wish you hadn't stayed."

"You can't be serious... They're not that shallow and superficial, are they?"

"Dead serious."

"Do you usually let them pressure you into doing things their way? Because if so, I think this is the perfect time for you to draw a hard line and not bend to their will. It could be good for you."

"I don't follow their rules anymore since I don't live with them, but if they knew that..."

"Would they disown you?"

"No. They'd keep me from seeing the family I actually do want to be around. If they knew about you, well... Are you prepared for them to accuse you of being in it for money? For only being here because I'm paying you?"

The words hit Hobie like a slap to the face, his eyes go wide as he absorbs what you've said. That's their first reaction? Why? What kind of family would ever consider saying something like that?

"So what... They think you're alone...? Single and celibate?"

"Uh... Yeah, yep." You confirm.

He's at a loss for words. This is... absurd. There are no words to describe how Hobie feels right now. How he feels about your parents, the situation you're in.

"You're family is f-" He starts, but quickly corrects himself. "Insane."

"Say it with your chest." Encouraging him to say whatever he wants.

He doesn't want to upset you, but this... this doesn't sit right with him. "Your parents are fucking crazy." He utters, glaring at the ceiling. His anger only seems to grow. "How could someone like you come from that? Who do they think they are controlling you? Dictating who you date, who you sleep with, if you can live your like freely? Have you ever thought about cutting them out of your life?"

"Pure luck?" You jest, trying to cheer him up with a joke to his first question. "I've thought about cutting them off, but that'll cut ties with family I do want to see."

Hobie snorts at your little joke, but he loses the small smile as you continued. "Still. You shouldn't have to do that. I mean, do you let them dictate the rest of your life? The way you look, they way you act, who you love?"

"Considering you're here... Absolutely not, but under no circumstances am I putting you in their line of fire." You answer quickly, shaking your head slightly.

"I can handle it." He replies with a shrug. He says that, but you know the thought of being in front of your family makes him uncomfortable. He was ready to do it for you though. That alone speaks volumes about how far he'd go to help you. "Your family can't keep getting away with controlling your life like this... What are you going to do? Just let them push you around for the rest of your life? Let them manipulate you into doing whatever they want?"

"What will pushing back accomplish? It'll cut me off from family."

"How is doing nothing better? You're just letting them walk all over you and control you like a puppet! Don't you want your life back?"

"It's not that simple."

"Life is never easy. Some people are luck, but others - like us- are born into difficult circumstances. But that doesn't mean we have to let the hardships stop us from living. Maybe it's not simple. Maybe it means making difficult decisions, taking a stand, or fighting for what we want. But we can do that - we have to."

🎸⋆⁺₊⋆♱🕷♱⋆⁺₊⋆🎸

It'd been a month or so since that night, but you'd blocked your parents on everything. Now you felt more comfortable sharing your personal life, and Hobie. You had fought like hell to get to this point, but you did it. It was one hell of a victory to win and you celebrated.

At first you took your freedom for granted, maybe you still do. No matter what, you knew there was no going back. You were free and planned to stay that way.

You wandered together beneath the hot London sun, through the concessions during a Spider-Man festival, you found it a bit humorous since the man behind the mask was holding your hand. Hobie's mood is contagious, you find yourself smiling as well. How could you not? Everything is so energetic, everyone is so excited and in good spirits, ready to have a good time.

"Do you ever feel weird about all this?" You ask as you weave through the throngs of people. "People throwing festivals and stuff in your honor but having no clue it's you?"

"Honestly?" He answers with a soft laugh. "Sometimes, yeah. I never really get used to it. People are obsessed with Spider-Man, so when they start acting like complete geeks over him, it makes me feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone or something. I'd never complain about it though." He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling your back against his chest as you stand in line. "Especially if it means seeing you smile like this..."

"Cheesy bastard..." You huff playfully, wrapping your hands around his forearms.

"Damn right I am." He cackles, pulling you closer. "Admit it! You love my lame puns and bad one-liners. You can't get enough of them!" He dips his head down and kisses you, lingering for a moment. He's not done flattering you though. "See? You're addicted to me..."

You laugh, opening your mouth to start denying everything. "Y/N?" You hear a familiar voice call and you freeze. Hobie pulls his head back, immediately picking up on your discomfort. He pulls you impossibly closer, searching for the source of your anxiety. He finally spots it. A stranger, well to him at least.

"Do you know her?" He whispers, still holding you close.

"That's my mom..." You mumble. You turn away from her, hoping she didn't see you.

"What do you think she wants?" He asks in a rushed whisper. "How do we deal with this?"

"I wish you could turn invisible..." You mutter, trying to think of something.

Before Hobie even has a chance to think of a response, your mom is right in front of you. "Y/N!" She cries, pulling you out of Hobie's grasp and into a big hug. "You're so skinny! You're not eating enough, that explains why we haven't heard from you in weeks!" Her eyes flicker over to Hobie as she lets go. "Who the hell are you?"

"This is Hobie... My... um..." You try, but Hobie doesn't like labels. There's no word to really describe your relationship.

Hobie immediately picks up on your issue, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. "We're together. An item..." He answers, a bit hesitant but firm.

"An item? You can't even tell me what your relationship actually is?" Your mom asks, smiling almost smugly. "So... She's paying you?"

"Paying me?" Hobie grits, looking at you before shooting your mother a glare. He's livid, grabbing your waist and pulling you back against him. He can't believe she'd say something so underhanded and insidious.

"Oh please." Your mother rolls her eyes. "Like you'd ever go for someone like my daughter without some sort of payment."

Hobie's anger nearly boils over; he's ready to get in your mother's face and start screaming. Instead, he takes a deep breath and speaks calmly, his voice dripping with sarcasm and spite. "What do you want from us, lady? An apology? An explanation? Because I'm not apologizing for loving your daughter and I don't owe you a damn thing."

"Loving my daughter?" Your mom laughs snidely. "Look at her. You could have anyone and you 'picked' her?"

Hobie's anger gives way to confusion as your mother's cruel words register. How could someone be so heartless? Who says something like that about their own child? As though you were some sort of object - an object that isn't worth any sort of love. "You have no idea what you're talking about so why don't you keep your mouth shut?"

"Excuse me?" Your mom glares daggers at Hobie.

"Did I stutter? Is your hearing okay?" Hobie snaps, his tone venomous. His jaw clenched with anger, he doesn't care what your mother thinks of him. He wants nothing more than to tear her apart, but he holds himself back. Refusing to stoop to her level.

Your mother huffs angrily and stomps away, you finally relax against Hobie's chest. "You didn't have to do that..."

"Yes, I did." He replies, frowning. He can still feel the residual anger and hatred radiating from him. "I'd do it a hundred times over if it meant protecting you. No one - and I mean no one - is going to talk to you that way while I'm alive. No one."

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his waist in a tight hug, hoping to relieve some of his anger. Hobie immediately accepts, pulling you closer. For a moment all he can do is hold you, breathing in the sweet smell of your hair. His grip tightens around you, his anger fading away. He rests his head against your head, eyes closing as he keep ahold of you.

"Did you mean what you said?" You mumble into his chest, your voice slightly muffled.

He goes still, pondering your question. "Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?" His voice is calm and soft. "It's the truth. I won't let anyone treat you that way." Hobie kisses the top of your head, his voice filled with determination.

"Not that." You laugh, shaking your head. "You said you 'wouldn't apologize for loving me...' Did you mean it?"

"Oh. That." He pauses for a moment. "Um... Yeah. I meant it."

"That's good." You nod thoughtfully. Hobie seems a bit anxious, waiting for you to reciprocate. "I love you too."

After a few seconds, a smile breaks out on his face. He leans down and presses his lips to yours - a gentle show of affection.

[yesimwriting]

does bestfriend!felix leave with other girls anymore? i swear every time he leaves the party it’s either with reader or to go see reader

(i adore!!! your writing btw)

i see felix as someone that doesn't see hooking up with people as something that has to be a big deal emotionally, so while he likes bestfriend!reader he definitely still sleeps around, he just ends up seeming like even more of a player 😭

so let's talk about it

i can see him hooking up with girls at parties (bathrooms at clubs, bedrooms at house parties),, so he can still end the night with reader

he's also more likely to leave with someone if it's a night where reader didn't go out with him bc she had other plans, needed to do homework, went to visit family, etc

from time to time though, he definitely still wants to leave parties with girls

however,, i also don't think he'd leave reader at a party bc he knows that being left in that kind of environment would stress out/hurt reader more than him sleeping with someone, if that makes sense?? it's also not generally safe to leave your friend at a party, especially if they've been drinking, so i think he'd be a little too protective/aware to just leave reader there

so, from time to time, he does leave parties with other girls, but not before asking someone he really trusts to take care of reader,, i feel like once he gets close to oliver, he usually asks oliver to get you back to your room safe oliver is definitely messy about this and tries to make reader insecure as subtly as possible lmao,, but that's a whole other thing

let's not get it twisted tho!! if reader so much as implies she's genuinely upset about something or seems like she needs his undivided attention, that is the priority!! i feel like he's walked away from a potential hook up bc reader needed/wanted something 😭

he has definitely at one point brought reader back to her or his dorm, tucked her in,, and then said he was going back to the party for a little bit just to hook up with someone lmao he's so messy

also i think he'd be the type to start hooking up with girls that look a little bit like reader, not in a crazy way, just randomly develops a preference for girls with reader's hair/eye color, maybe girls that are around the same height as reader, etc

i also think he'd seem like more of a player bc he'd start to leave even sooner after hookups to text/call reader to ask reader if she wants to come over,, and when reader inevitably says yes, he'll say he's already outside her dorm

if reader asks about what happened with the girl he left with,, i feel like he'd play off the interaction or tease reader about being jealous until she drops it

a few poor girls have definitely had to listen to some pretty love sick , tipsy ramblings about reader before hooking up with felix 😭,, omg could see this being how felix realizes he's in love with reader, like a girl he's about to hook up with is like um...pretty sure you're in love

also, we know that felix is easily jealous/a little petty, so is definitely more likely to go home with someone else if he feels like reader wasn't giving him enough attention

this is a tiny bit off topic,, but has definitely (jokingly, but not really) offered to hook up with reader (bc most sexual things aren't a big deal to him,, so why not help each other out as besties?? no other reason 👀)

if reader is like umm i'm not too sure about that one,, no matter how jokingly the offer came off, he'll reluctantly find someone else to hook up with and reader will still not notice that that could have been her!!

anyways, this was a lot longer and more chaotic than i thought it'd be,, hope you still enjoy it 😭🩷,,

if you have any thoughts on this pls feel free to share :))

[iamnmbr3]

Thoughts on Drarry and post war relationship?

Like, with canon in mind, do you think that Harry would fall first, Draco would or it'd be at the same time?

And who do you think would act on those feelings first and how would the Wizarding world react to the great Harry Potter being in love with a Death Eater?

Because I always viewed Harry as someone that knows what he wants and won't shy away from it, whereas Draco might have a harder time with all of it due to the fact he is a Death Eater, and while I don't think there's actual evidence of it, I always thought he'd feel unworthy of forgiveness and love after the war, so I think that if Harry fell for him Draco would try to push him away.

Sorry it these are two many questions for just one convo but I'm curious on your thoughts

What an absolutely delightful ask! I love getting things like this in my inbox. Definitely not too many questions. Thanks for waiting till I had a chance to sit down and write out a proper answer.

I think it's quite possible that by partway through 7th year Draco was forced to come to terms with the fact that he has feelings for Harry Potter. Strong feelings. Once in a lifetime love feelings in fact. He's tried to run from it and he just can't anymore. Oh he's not foolish enough to think anything will ever come of it. Even if by some miracle they both survive the war he knows he ruined any chance of that long ago. But he does have to face the fact (which he's been hiding from for so long) that the feelings are there. (Meanwhile Harry's too busy compartmentalizing as hard as he can because he's got a war to fight).

And then the war ends and he goes right back to denial - trying to insist to himself that he's over it, he's moved on, he has. Because the alternative is too painful to deal with. Though when he meets Harry again - whether in 8th year or after - he can't help caring more than ever what Harry thinks of him. If they meet again many years later maybe Draco's even given up on trying to convince himself he'll ever be over Harry. He's in unrequited love with Harry Potter. It's just a fact of life, a tragic and painful condition he lives with (though he'd just die if anyone found out). Of course Harry would never want him but it's terribly important to him that Harry at least not think that he is who he used to be. He goes to great lengths to show Harry that he's changed because he needs Harry to know that much at least. Even though he knows it probably hardly matters because ultimately he's just a footnote in Harry's life. It's not like Harry thinks about him.

Harry, of course, thinks about Draco. A lot. Somehow in the aftermath of it all his mind keeps going back to Draco (and also their lives somehow keep intersecting) - returning the wand, thinking about how Draco saved him, maybe inexplicably missing the hawthorn wand a bit, speaking at Draco's trial, perhaps exchanges of letters in the aftermath. And beyond that. Harry can't help notice Draco anytime he's in his vicinity. Can't help reading and remembering any article about him. Can't help wondering what he's up to and making it his business to find out. And when they finally do start interacting regularly he can't help being struck by how much Draco has changed and how enjoyable he actually is to be around in a strange way, and how Draco no longer treats him badly but does still treat him as a person and not a mythical, nearly godlike figure.

Of course, this is not to say that I think they would just immediately fall into each other's arms while Harry quotes the best drarry metas at any doubters. I personally find it jarring and ooc when fics have Harry suddenly hate Draco postwar and be mad that he didn't go to Azkaban and have to be talked around by his friends who are somehow all besties with Draco while Harry is the outlier, because Harry never hated Draco even when he had the most cause to and felt more sympathy for him than others and even lied to obfuscate his crimes. So I don't think that makes sense.

But I also don't think it makes sense for Harry to just immediately act like besties with Draco postwar and start talking about him like he's swallowed a dozen tumblr metas. Because that doesn't feel true to life either. Yes they're drawn to each other. Yes postwar a lot of the barriers keeping them apart are gone. But it would still take time to get over the past contentiousness between them. Harry would need to see that Draco had changed. Especially if we're talking 8th year when emotions are still running high and all their wounds are fresh.

Or even later. I can see Harry initially being suspicious of Draco. I can see Draco caring way too much what Harry thinks of him but that emotion translating into him lashing out when that's the last thing he actually wants to do. Because that's what he tends to do when he's feeling vulnerable. I can see Harry being way too upset and disappointed if he thinks Draco might not have changed, while his friends wonder why he's taking it so personally. And I can see Harry, who is way more introspective than he often gets credit for, starting to think hard about his relationship with Draco and why what Draco does post-war matters to him quite so much.

He might tell himself he's investigating Draco for the safety of others, or even for Draco's own good so he doesn't waste the chance Harry gave him. But it's more than that. And if Harry realizes that Draco's in trouble somehow he's resolved to help. He's tired of the fight. And Draco feels the need to thank Harry somehow, to show him he's changed. Though he's also mystified about why Harry would speak up for him yet again, when he's already done so much. Except of course Harry would do that. Because he's just a good person like that isn't he? Draco was just too busy being jealous and spiteful over something he could never have to notice wasn't he? (It's way more than that of course; Draco has never been just another person to Harry).

Anyway they are always drawn to each other and they always find each other. In 8th year if they go back to Hogwarts or through letters or some other way otherwise. And however many years pass before it happens they both live rent free in each other's heads. Awkward and stilted conversations become less awkward over time and leads to joking that each finds surprisingly enjoyable and then more conversations and confidences and each finding it increasingly difficult to not notice how handsome the other is. And well, one thing leads to another. Harry's the first one to make a move because Draco would never. Even if he thinks the feeling is reciprocated he assumes it's just too impossible given who he is. It would ruin Harry's life.

Even once they get together Draco assumes this will have to be no more than a fling, a dirty shameful secret that Harry will probably regret someday. Harry's not buying that. He doesn't care what the public thinks and never has. And he tells Draco so.

When it inevitably eventually hits the press obviously a lot of the coverage is not kind. Eventually Harry starts to wonder if maybe Draco cares. And he actually pulls a Quibbler 2.0 and gives an interview and by the end of the week the public is obsessed with the epic story of 2 star crossed lovers. Of course, for some Draco's past can never be forgiven and Harry can never be forgiven for associating with him. But Harry doesn't care. He never asked people to look up to him in the first place.

Other people though are thrilled by the story of their epic romance. It's got rivals to lovers caught on the opposite sides of a war, it's got redemption, it's got drama, it's got heartbreak. What's not to like? Sure a lot of the details get mangled. But it works out alright in the end. And eventually as the years and decades go by it's just another story that was big in the day but is now just a fact of life.

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

PLEASE write about Jean seeing you for the first time in four years 😭. Like you got taken by Reiner or something and when they attacked you went and found him. PLEASE THIS WOULD BE SO COOL!!

at last

pairing: jean kirstein x f!reader

word count: 1.2k +

tw: kidnapping, cursing, angst,

a/n: wow! this is a lil emotional! i hope you love it like i do. also, this isn't proof read.

it'd been four years. it'd been four whole years since you felt the company of your comrades, no, your friends. the day you were taken still burned sharply in the back of your mind, replaying on an endless loop, constantly reminding you of the last day you were happy. there was no forgetting the devastated looks, their faces twisting and contorting with fear. the sounds of their panicked shouts fading into the distance. the most haunting thing of all your brain tortured you with was the feeling of jean's fingertips slipping away from yours.

things like that weren't so easily forgotten, especially from the confinement of your cell. at the end of the day, you were grateful. you were grateful to still have your life, no matter how miserable it might have been. the cell you stayed in was dim, cold and all too quiet. it was the perfect breeding ground for your trauma, festering day and night. of course, there was a time you weren't as grateful; you'd rather have died then reside in marley for whatever time you might have had left. you were angry. you were angry at reiner, at marley, at the scouts for not being successful in their attempts to rescue you. there was fear residing there, too. were your friends alive? where was eren? did they know what you knew? did they know about the cruelty of the world?

eventually, reiner became somebody different. you no longer saw him as the traitor as he once was. you grew to understand him, your resentment eventually fading away. he'd come down most days and visit you. he taught you a lot of things about marley and about paradis. reiner would tell you about the world away from your cell, about things that were happening outside.

the day came where reiner told you that willy tybur, an eldian noble, was going to declare war on your homeland. he seemed remorseful to be telling you this. you screamed at him, begging him to interfere all while reminding him he was once a soldier, too. he ignored your pleas and left you a pacing mess in your cell.

not long after reiner's disappearance, a blond male soldier stopped by your cell. the soldier said nothing as he fumbled around in his pockets before pulling out a set of keys. he unlocked the door as you asked a thousand questions, raising your voice with each word. he said nothing. like reiner, he left without a word.

the sound of eren's titan echoed through the air, shaking the ceiling and causing bits of rock to fall. you thought you were hallucinating, your brain playing another sick trick on you. you heard it again with booms following right behind it. praying on the chance it was real, that eren was really here, your legs took off, your calves burning with each swift movement.

above ground was a nightmare coming to life. the sky was dark. there were no stars to see, the only light from the raging fires. the attack titan's silhouette was visible, muscles rippling as he pounded another titan. there were so many emotions running through the track of your mind but there was one thought that stood out apart from the rest.

if eren was here, were the scouts here too?

then, you heard it. the unmistakable sound of odm gear being launched through the air. anxiety brewed deep within you, letting you know this might be your one chance to go home, begging you to not let it slip away the way jean had let you. tilting your head up to the sky, you saw them. the scouts, in a different uniform than you remembered, were zipping through the air with utter grace. they were angels compared to the relentless war behind them. you wanted to cheer; your saviors were here, at last. you opened your mouth, filling your diaphragm with all the air it would let you and you screamed. you screamed as loud as you could.

"help! it's me, (y/n)!" it was the only thing that came to your mind. you thought your efforts were useless, barely being able to hear yourself over the screams of men, women, and children. the fight between of titans covering up your futile attempts at a rescue. you were about to yell again when you felt an arm snake around you.

the air was cold, an unwelcoming breeze, as you flew through the air with an unknown liberator. your eyes closed as the harsh wind hit them. you'd long forgotten what it was like to be a scout. once being able to zip effortlessly through your environment, you found yourself taken back. the arm on your waist was warm and you reveled in the heat, despite the chilled air around you.

your flight came to an end and only then did you open your eyes. with wide eyes, you blinked, taking in your surroundings. you were on a rooftop now. you centered your eyes in front of you.

"(y/n?)" his voice is choked, barely getting through your name.

jean kirstein.

tears brimming in your eyes like a dam threatening to break, you had let out a guttural cry. the next word out of your mouth was much softer than the sound you'd just made. "jean." you whisper. jean didn't move as water collected in his eyes, spilling over and running down his face. "jean." he nodded his head, at a loss of words. his mouth opened but only the sound of war was heard. jean shook his head and lunged forward, engulfing you in an embrace you thought you'd never feel again.

jean's shoulders were shaking with sobs and the battle behind was long forgotten. jean was no longer a soldier; he was healing. the wounds you'd left had never closed. they were deep gashes all over his body, aching to feel you, to hear you at any given moment. with a single embrace, he felt them closing.

his palm cradled the back of your head, the other wrapped around the entirety of your back. there was nothing said here as you two breathed each other in, finding the love that was once lost with each breath. jean's voice was quiet in your ears.

"i'm sorry," his breath was warm as it poured over the side of your neck. "i'm sorry." jean repeated.

you found it within you to pull away from his arms. you could see him now. you could really see him now. you could see how the four years had hardened him. the only thing that was the same was his eyes. it was the same way he had looked at you back then. his eyebrows twitch with concern, awaiting your next word, scanning your face for a hint.

your mouth fell open, desperately begging you to say something, to say anything at all. the sound of your cry was barely heard over the explosions of thunderspears; your tongue failing you with words once again.

"i know, baby."

you rushed forward, meeting him once again in an embrace. your head became wet with his tears as yours dampened his neck. jean's arms tightened as he let out a shaky breath. "i'm here, baby. you're here with me, at last."

my jean fic 🤍

[telleroftime]

Oh hey another thought share

Y/N is Junior's babysitter. Ik he wasn't in the movie but canon is a suggestion to me so he is there now

And is it'd just so happens, DK kinda gets a crush on them

Junior however doesn't like that and every time DK gets a little too close, Junior shoots a fireball at him, much to Y/N's dismay as they've been trying to teach him to not fireball all his problems away

To make things worse for DK, Bowser also notices this crush. He doesn't like it either

Unfortunately Bowser also realizes that damn it, he, too, has a crush on them. He just didn't realize it before, as he'd gotten so used to them being around he didn't think that it'd be possible to lose them, he just assumed they'd always be there, and he certainly doesn't want to lose them to anyone, let alone DK, that'd be almost as bad as losing them to Mario

I love the idea that Reader knows about both of their crushes. DK has been showing off a lot more around them and Bowser is starting to act like a rooster that's unwilling to share. They're not exactly subtle, especially not when they're around one another.

But their sentiments won't stop Reader from being a great caretaker. As DK and Bowser fight over Reader's attention, Reader continues to take care of Junior. And not just to Junior. They end up taking care of Diddy and Dixie too. It'd take some time for the three to get along, but Reader is happy when the children eventually play nice. That, and the kids bond over the fact Reader tells of Bowser and DK whenever the two act like infants.

Depending on who's affection Reader wants to get, their main conversation will always end up with Bowser. If they have a crush on DK, they will make it clear to Bowser that they are not interested. They will make their boundaries clear, and if Bowser doesn't accept that then they'll threaten to no longer babysit Junior. And seeing as Junior would much rather play video games with Reader than with Kamek, Bowser has no choice but to accept Reader's rejection or face a rather upset son.

If the Reader has a crush on Bowser, they will come straight to him. Words of affirmation will be thrown out. Reader will make it clear that they have no interest in DK and that Bowser doesn't need to worry. "I'm not worried," though Reader knows better. Only when Bowser is settled would Reader go to DK to explain how they feel. DK would be dejected, but I feel like he would take it well.

Alternatively, I do also love the idea that through it all, Reader is aromantic and has no interest in either one of them. They make that clear, but the two are too busy arguing who's more manly and aren't hearing any of it. Junior would listen though though he still would try and shoot fire at DK. Diddy Kong wouldn't tell DK, but he would laugh whenever he saw his cuz' walking past him.

Kamek would 100% know and both Reader and him would be able to have tea parties whilst the two leader figures continue bickering.

[artemis32]

Myriad • Aizawa

I kind of hate this, but also, it was fun to write - that being said, which character should i do next (after shiggy)

also, these will all be drabbles because I can't commit to fics. It just never works out

myriad masterlist

****

You were an enigma.

Aizawa, in all his years as both a Pro-Hero and a teacher, had never come across someone like you.

What was your quirk?

He'd been your teacher for nearly a whole semester, and he wasn't any closer to guessing the nature of your quirk.

The Quirk Registration Database had, shockingly, been little help. You were barely mentioned in the directory - your name was only accompanied by the vague mention of the number of quirks you possessed.

Two.

Was it a quirk passed down by one of your parents? A combination of both?

The longer he observed you though, the more certain he became that you were one of the few anomalies within society, someone who'd mutated a quirk, rather than had one passed down.

If pressed for an answer, he, quite frankly, wouldn't be able to tell what your quirk was. Of course, he had his suspicions (many of which were proven wrong), just like the other teachers and students (also wrong), but no one ever really knew for sure. And they wouldn't know until you told them yourself.

That same uncertainty that surrounded your quirk was a large part of the reason why you were paired against him in the semester's final practical exam.

With such an unpredictable quirk, the only way to truly gauge your proficiency as a hero was to take that quirk away.

It was more than obvious to everyone, teachers, and students alike, that your quirk was always active. It seemed instinctual, active without so much as a thought from you.

This time, Aizawa would test you, find out just how reliant you were on this mysterious quirk of yours.

****

Aizawa didn't curse, especially not in front of his students or fellow faculty, but he felt that, in this particular situation, it was warranted.

He'd been wrong. So laughably, terribly wrong.

Your quirk wasn't a crutch. Far from it.

He'd caught up to you quickly, neutralising your quirk almost immediately, and had gone in for the kill, capture weapon slicing through the air with a swift swoosh, and-

You'd evaded it.

Fast.

Too fast.

As far as he was aware, your quirk didn't include speed enhancements. Even if it did, your quirk was neutralised, made useless.

So why then were you so fast? How did you manage to evade his capture weapon in an instant?

He didn't have time to linger on it at that moment.

You were fast, yes, but he was faster.

Talent would only get you so far. In life, experience tended to trump talent.

As much as he hated it, he'd have to get in close.

He jumped down to street level, intent on ending things quickly.

****

He'd underestimated you. They all had.

Honestly, it was foolish of him to believe you relied on your quirk that heavily. It was clear to him now that while your quirk, whatever it was, might have been strong, your endurance and physical capabilities far exceeded even your fellow classmates.

It made him wander why you held back so much. Because you did.

The entrance exam, the USJ incident, even the sports festival - you seemed to hold back during all of it.

Aizawa didn't understand.

If your goal was to be a hero, to do well, why would you hold back?

You'd defeated him with little to no effort, barely breaking a sweat the entire time. He'd managed to wrap you in his capture weapon, with a lot more of a struggle than he'd anticipated, and it'd be pointless. The moment he blinked, your quirk had reactivated, and he'd been back to square one.

It was embarrassing - the fact that it seemed so easy for you to beat him and complete the exam without a quirk. Even your classmates had been shocked.

The only person who hadn't broken out into a cold sweat was principal Nezu, the small animal-like mutant cackling like a maniac, as if he knew something they didn't. He probably did.

****

"What exactly is your quirk?"

He'd finally reached his limit. He had to know.

Not only to satiate his curiosity, but also to determine exactly how they'd test you during the training camp. He'd held off for as long as he could, but enough was enough.

"Sensei?"

"Your quirk. What is it? Tell me."

You tilt your head, looking an awful lot like a small cat, even with that ridiculous blindfold he was certain you couldn't see through. How could someone so formidable in combat look so innocent?

"You don't know?" you ask, mouth pulling upward into a small grin.

Irritation creeps into his expression, making his brow twitch. You seemed shocked, amused, as if you'd given him any sort of indication regarding your quirk. To be frank, certain aspects of your personality grated his nerves.

You were, to put it bluntly, annoying. Childish beyond words, playful, and you often tended to tease others to the point of furor.

"No. I don't."

"Oh. Well, I have two quirks."

You speak slowly, as if using big words would confuse him.

He feels his jaw tick.

“Yes, yes,” he says impatiently. “I know. But what are they?”

“I can’t just tell you sensei. That’s no fun.”

You’re still grinning, but your tone has taken on a whinier quality, one that makes him rethink his choice to become a teacher. He feels a headache developing in his temples, fingers uselessly massaging the throbbing area as he groans.

“Just tell me.”

“Nope. I’ll give you three hints, and you can guess!”

Aizawa grinds his teeth together.

She’s a child. You don’t hit children.

Patience. Have patience, he reminds himself, sighing heavily.

You were like a more annoying version of Mic, except Mic didn’t make everything a game. You were like a toddler stuck in a demons body.

“Fine,” he sighs again, gesturing for you to continue.

You hold out your hand, holding up one finger.

“Hint number one!” you say, in a tone similar to a game show host.

“I’m like Buzz Lightyear!”

That’s… extremely unhelpful.

“Buzz… Lightyear?”

You pout slightly, flopping down into a chair opposite his desk with a groan.

“Aw, maaaan, you’re no fun sensei. How old are you anyway?”

A noise of disbelief rumbles through his chest.

“That’s not- Obviously I know who Buzz Lightyear is! I just don’t see how that’s relevant!”

That infuriating smirk finds it’s way back onto your face, and you kick your feet up on his desk while you lean back in your chair, the absolute picture of nonchalance. From somewhere inside your blazer pocket, you pull out a lollipop, mindlessly gnawing the red candy.

“Fine. Next hint then.”

You show him two fingers, head lolling back as you speak around the lollipop in your mouth.

“I’m like a dragonfly.”

Aizawa closes his eyes, a disgruntled sigh of disbelief escaping him despite his best efforts.

“What do dragonflies and Buzz Lightyear have to do with one another?”

You shrug, biting down on the hard candy, crushing it between your molars.

“Nothing.”

A toddler. An infuriating, know-it-all toddler. That’s what you are.

“Just… give me the last hint.”

You hold out three fingers.

“I’m like a combination of pi and… Hm…”

You pause for a moment, sitting up straight.

“And a sonar scan!”

“I give up.” Aizawa responds plainly.

“What?! But you didn’t even try to guess!”

He shrugs, arms crossed over his chest. “I give up.”

Your mouth pinches into a scowl, and he was sure that if you weren’t wearing that blindfold, you’d be frowning.

“Tell me, or don’t. I have no guesses.”

“Not even one?”

“Nope.”

You groan and slump in your seat, grumbling about how boring he is, and he has to fight to hide a small smile.

Okay. Maybe you were endearing. Slightly.

“Fine! You’re no fun.”

****

To say he was overwhelmed was a gross understatement.

Your quirks were terrifying. There was no other way to put it. They were powerful, and overwhelming, and just plain terrifying. You really had been holding back all semester.

When he asked why you hadn’t told anyone about your quirks, your response was simultaneously simple and off-putting.

“No one asked.”

As if you’d expected them to.

But… you had a point. In the entire four months you’d been in class 1a, no one had openly approached you and asked what your quirk was.

Come to think of it, you weren’t exactly friends with any of your classmates either. Was it because they were thrown off by your mysterious quirks or your personality? Maybe.

Now that he knew though, he felt strangely… protective of you.

It wasn’t as if you needed his protection or concern.

Regardless, he decided that during the summer training camp, he’d pay you some extra attention. Not to help you improve your already flawless quirk, rather, he wanted to… observe you. You’d piqued his interest.