#why didn’t they just use regular fucking numbers I’m too stupid to figure them out

[donovan-writes]

Your honor you don’t understand how much I love him.

[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (PT.I) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN : PART ONE 

Summary:  Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother. 

Genre: fluff, slight angst, f!reader x dad! Iwaizumi 

A/N: There will be 2 or 3 parts of this oneshot! Depending on how long I feel like writing. Thanks for checking it out and stopping by! Let’s dive into some Iwa moments :,)

NEXT PART --> 

---

“What’s your return policy on rings?” 

The saleswoman smiles sympathetically behind the counter. That stupid sympathetic smile he’s been getting for weeks on end now. And it never stops; with his co-workers, with his family, his friends...

Iwaizumi’s sick of it. He’s sick of having to prove that he’s doing just fine, thank you very much. When in truth, his heart is constantly being torn apart and stomped upon as is people have nothing better to do than torture him in their free time. 

“I’m sorry, but these rings have been brought more than three years ago, and our warrant only lasts for three years,” the saleswoman keeps on talking but it doesn’t matter, for Iwaizumi can already feel the anger slowly creep up through the back of his neck, can already feel the vibrating emotions clogging up his sense of judgement. 

His fists clench at his sides upon impulse, the physical pain of his nails driving into his palms enough to remind him to stay cordial. It’s not the woman’s fault, the better part of him chants, it’s not her fault at all. 

“Fine,” he manages to grovel out, barely, “thanks anyway.” 

He all but storms out of the shop while shoving the rectangular box back in his pant pocket, and though it’s been more than four months since his ugly divorce with the woman he’d hoped to share the rest of his life with, the weight of their promise hangs heavy and hot upon his thigh. 

The thing is, Iwaizumi is mad. He is seething. If one were to give him a bat, he’d probably destroy the entire town by himself. Not because she was the one that cheated, not because she was the one going behind his back numerous times a week to seek out her lover when he’d been basically driven mad between Hoisuke’s cries and the stress of call meetings scheduled back to back. 

No, he’s angry. Because how the fuck could she do this to Hoisuke? How can she break the child’s heart like that, so ruthlessly, without even thinking twice about the consequences? 

Because if there is a victim in all this, then it’s definitely Hoisuke. And not only that, Hoisuke understands that his mother has been acting strange, that she doesn’t return at regular times and that her hugs now smell of cigarette smoke with a bittertaste of alcohol. 

Iwaizumi is so caught up in anger that he almost blunders past his battered Hyundai, red and chipping away at the corners. Still, this car holds so many memories, the good and the bad ones. 

“Can’t you get a newer car? I thought your company could sponsor you,” the ghost of his wife’s voice echoes through his head, a blatant reminder of all the things she’d found wrong in his life.

“Why?” he’d tilted his head around to fix his gaze on her figure bending over the sink. The TV was playing in the background and he thanked the gods that the morning comics were taking up Hoisuke’s attention, enough to distract him from his parents’ quibbles. 

“It’s just--so old and tacky.” 

“It still works well, doesn’t it? Why change it now?” 

She’d paused, hesitated slightly before blundering on, “It’s embarrassing. My colleagues keep asking if we're poor or something."

"Who cares what your colleagues think?"

Fuck her, Iwaizumi mentally swears as he turns on the ignition. Fuck her and all her needs for a better life. As if the life they had wasn't more than enough. Pulling out into the street to join the incoming traffic, he blinks away the sudden tears accumulating at the corner of his eyes and swears once more, this time aloud, glad that Hoisuke isn't in his presence when he gets in such a foul mood.

Iwaixumi may be angry. He may be filled with pent-up rage from the memory still attached to the day he'd discovered a used condom in their bathroom trash. But that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

That doesn't mean he does not still cry into his pillow over it every night.

----

"Please don't forget to do your homework for tomorrow! We'll correct them before moving on to the next chapter," you call out to your students as excited chatter fills the air. Students rise from their seats, some calling you bye and waving as they all file out of the classroom and you can't help the small smile lingering over your lips even though your feet are killing you.

Outside, parents have already lined up to collect their kids, the chatter and bustle of people ebbing away down the corridor as you let out a soft sigh.

"Miss?"

You jolt, not realizing that one of your students stands by the table wringing his hands, "what's wrong Hoisuke? Dad's not here yet?"

He shakes his head, watery eyes blinking up at you as he raises his thumb to his lips. You stand quickly and motion him to come close until he's within reach before your hand smoothes over the back of his head, "it's okay. He's probably stuck in traffic. I'll wait with you."

It's not surprising that parents get tardy once in a while and you're all too accustomed to those slight change in plans. Thankfully, you manage to distract the young boy with some coloured crayons and a piece of paper while you dial for his father's number.

It keeps ringing. No one picks up.

You try once more, one more time after that. But still, nothing. It shifts to voicemail. You decide it's better than nothing, "hi Iwaizumi-san. This is Y/N, Hoisuke's teacher. I was just wondering what time you would be picking up Hoisuke? Please call me as soon as possible. Thank you."

You end the call only to spot Hoisuke's eyes on you, intent and impatient for you to explain, "it's okay," you tell him with a smile, "he'll be here soon. Don't worry. Do you want to keep colouring some more?"

Hoisuke nods, to which your smile widens. It's those special moments, where your shyest students express themselves, that your chest warms with sympathy and affection. You've been there, you know how it feels like not to be heard, and you appreciate every interaction they offer you.

Being a primary school teacher is tough, especially since it wasn't in your original plans. But the satisfaction of bringing up some of the world's future leaders cancelled out all the late nights correcting tests and scrambled weekends trying to finish off as many worksheets as you possibly could for the coming week. You can’t complain, not when you have a decent salary that keeps bread on the table and a roof over your head.

A tug on your sleeve brings you back to Hoisuke looking up at you, a scribbled drawing of what seems to be of him and his dad. You feel yourself chuckling at how he's drawn both their hair in brown spikes, erratically extravagant and yet so close to reality.

"That's really good, Hoisuke!" You beam down at him, "what do you and your dad do on weekends?"

He shrugs shyly, head averted to the side so that there's no need for eye contact. And in the shyest voice he can muster up, he says:

"Daddy brings me...to see Mama," Hoisuke's words are barely above a mumble, "they live in different houses. They can't live together anymore."

Uneasiness squeeses in your stomach, followed by sympathy for this soft-hearted boy. You had overheard some of your colleagues giggling about Hoisuke's dad being attractive and single -- a combo that teachers adore -- but that doesn't mean that the weight of his words don't lay heavy on your own conscience.

"Do you miss your Mama a lot?" You ask him softly. Unconsciously, your hand finds a way to smooth over his head.

The boy doesn't pull away. Instead, he nods, "sometimes. But it is better this way. Daddy smiles more now. And there's no one to shout and make noise."

"Are you happy, Hoisuke? With your dad?"

He nods and to your amazement grins, "daddy is funny. He tells me not to swear but when he burns the food he always swears. And then he says to shush and tells me to close my ears. He also makes me pancakes every Saturday morning before I go see Mama."

Right on cue, a figure bursts through the open classroom door and both your heads snap to see a drenched, older version of Hoisuke who looks like he just finished running a marathon.

"I'm--" he wheezes, causing you to stand in alarm and concern, "I'm sorry I'm--so late--"

"Daddy, you forgot me again!" Comes Hoisuke's statement as you ask Iwaizumi if he's okay. He shakes off your worry with a flick of his hand and a shake of his head, "I'm fine. Sorry-- there's a nasty rain outside--"

"It's okay," you reassure him as Hoisuke practically barrels into his father and almosy knocks him off his feet.

"Sorry Hoisuke," you watch Iwaizumi's hardened features soften ever so slightly as he ruffles his son's hair. Then, looking back up at you as you bring over Hoisuke's backpack, he says, "thank you. For looking after him."

"It's no problem, honestly. We had fun didn't we?" You grin down at your student and are delighted to find Hoisuke grinning back up at you, albeit shyly, "I put his homework in his diary. He'll need to complete it for tomorrow so that he doesn't fall behind in class."

His father nods, "alright. Thanks."

"Daddy, your hair looks atrocious," Hoisuke says, tugging onto his shirt.

"Atrocious huh?" Iwazumi's eyebrow rise, "someone was listening in their English class today."

"Atrocious means that it looks bad. Daddy, your hair looks bad."

"Thanks buddy, I knew that. Now say bye to Miss Y/N."

"Bye bye, miss Y/N," Hoisuke says, wriggling his short arm through the air as you wave back with a giggle. His father nods at you in silent thanks, makes a move to walk out of the class, only to swivel back to you just as you're collecting your bag.

"Uhm," he clears his throat, causing you to jump slightly, "yes?" You blink back at him and try hard not to stare at the way his white shirt clings to his toned chest, translucent from the rain.

"Do you need a ride?"

-----

You've known Iwaizumi since high school. Having graduated just two years later than he did, his reputation had preceded him throughout the school halls even though you'd never actually had any face to face interaction with the said man. Iwaizumi doesn't know this of course and you are adamant about keeping it a secret. But that plan seems to be unraveling before your very eyes the moment your small talk turns towards your academic history.

"You're from Aoba Johsai?" His surprised glance doesn't escape your notice, especially since that's the most reaction you've gotten out of him.

"Yeah," your eyes stay glued to the row of cars crawling through the motorway, "I remember you went there too, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"You were Aoba's ace volleyball player. Everyone knew who you were."

His silence answers you and for a moment, you fear that you might have offended him. Not that it's something to be offended about.

Before you try to scratch your brain for some kind of response -- any response -- Hoisuke pipes up from the back seat, "Daddy was famous back when he was in high school. He hit the ball like kapow! And jumped so high he can touch the sky."

"Oh? Have you seen him on camera?" You turn slightly, a small smile dangling off your lips at how adorably amazed and excited Hoisuke seems to be.

"Yeah! His spikes are so awesome! It goes pow! And it zooms! Like a cannon ball!"

You burst out laughing, "yes, your father was amazing whenever he was on the court. Every girl in our class had a crush on him."

"What's a crush?"

"Hmm, you know when you really like someone. You like like them, you want to be together with them. Like, girlfriend and boyfriend."

"Oh," Hoisuke draws out, "did you really like daddy too?"

"Yeah I did."

"What?" Iwaizumi almost chokes on his own spit at the same time traffic eases and you're glad for the distraction, for you're certain there's a scattering of colour upon your cheeks.

"Do you really like him now?" Hoisuke persists, undoubtly untouched by the embarrassment taking over his father's features and you swear that more than ever, you want to laugh at how flustered Iwaizumi looks.

You decide to play nice though and instead turn to wink at your student, "that's a secret for me to keep."

You don't have to look twice to know that the man beside you is bursting into hot flames.

-----

"Did you really like Mama before you started living separately?"

Iwaizumi swears that he's never felt so uncomfortable in his life. Not when he's had to state that he was divorced, not when he had to sign divorce papers half drunk off his ass. Not even when he'd raged after his said ex-wife after finding a tie that wasn't his own in his laundry pile.

Now is probably a good definition of what uncomfortable means.

"You're not gonna let me off the hook are you?" He steals a glance at Hoisuke from over his shoulder while stirring the vegetable curry, "yes, I really liked your mother."

"Did she?"

The word 'yes' almost slips past his mouth. Except, he isn't sure whether that's the truth and decides to shoot back with, "have you finished your homework, Hoisuke? You know it's due tomorrow. Miss Y/N said so."

"Do you really like miss Y/N?"

"What?" Iwaizumi frowns, "well--no. Not like that."

"Why?" His son whines, "I really really like Miss Y/N. She's nice to me and she never shouts. And she bakes good cookies!"

"How'd you know that?" Iwaizumi leans over to taste a bit of the sauce. Not bad, he thinks and mentally pats himself on the back. A few weeks ago, he would've probably burnt the entire house down.

"Because she bakes them every month. Every time we finish a test."

"That's nice of her."

"Yes," there's a pause as the man fishes out a bowl in which to serve the curry, "daddy, what do you do when you really like someone? Do you marry them like you and Mama did?"

"Uh--yeah. Sure."

"Then does that mean I need to marry Miss Y/N if I really like her?"

"Yup."

"Daddy!"

Iwaizumi bursts out laughing. Turning off the stovetop and bringing the bowl over to the dining table, he reaches out to ruffle his son's hair with a grin, "you're the one who has a crush on miss Y/N."

"She's too old for me Daddy," grumbles Hoisuke while scooping out two rice bowls as the pair sit down for dinner, "but she'll be good for you."

"Not that simple, buddy," Iwaizumi says as he dumps two spoonfuls of curry into his son's bowl, before doing the same with his own, "there's a difference between like and love."

A frown falls over his son's face, so like his own that Iwaizumi can't help but chuckle, "what is the difference?"

"Well, when you really like someone, you might want to get to know them better. Or play with them andd shit--stuff like that. When you love someone, it's..." he hesitates, "it's different."

"Why?"

There goes that innocent question that punctures his chesy a little too deeply. The brown-haired man steadies his gaze upon the calendar fixed on the wall opposite him as he answers with:

"When you love someone, you want to live with them. You want to start a family with them. Their happiness," his brown orbs switch back to his son's focused attention, "their happiness is all that matters."

Maybe it's the fact that he's not used to speaking so truthfully about such things. Maybe it's just Hoisuke who suddenly realizes the layers hidden beneath his father's poker-faced exterior. But for a moment, neither of them speak, as if bewitched by a silencing spell if broken by the scraping of cutlery against porcelain.

"Did you love mama?"

Hoisuke's voice is small, fragile. So fragile that Iwaizumi pauses just as his spoon reaches his mouth, glancing over at his boy. His beautiful boy.

"Yeah."

Another short pause. "Did she love me?"

"Of course she did," Iwaizumi's face softens. To be honest, Hoisuke hadn't showed any kind of restraint during the entire divorce procedure, had merely accepted things as they had unfolded before his very eyes. But sometimes, Iwaizumi fears his son might be keeping more from him than he lets on.

He ressembles his mother a lot in that sense.

"Then," wet coffee-coloured eyes blink up at him, lips trembling with a hoarse whisper, "why'd she leave?"

Before his father can say anything, the young boy bursts into tears.

Iwaizumi rushes over, clasping Hoisuke in his embrace as the child buries his face into his neck and cries and cries and cries. His little heart beats like wild horses and with every sob echoing through hid body, Iwaizumi feels his own heart break over and over again. One of his hands rub comforting circles of Hoisuke's back, while the other smoothes over the back of his head as he murmurs soft nothings in hopes that it will calm down the young child.

"I want--" Hoisuke's voice is thick with tears, "I want Mama--"

"Shh, hey it's okay," Iwaizumi murmurs out, "s'alright kiddo. I got you."

Hoisuke falls asleep eventually, the soft sniffles dying out into even breaths as he slumps against his father’s shoulder, probably tired out from his earlier emotions. Iwaizumi takes this as his chance to tuck the boy into bed, glad that he’d listened to the small subconscious in his head telling him that Hoisuke would be falling asleep sooner rather than latter. 

As he smoothes over his son’s hair, a part of him wonders how much Hoisuke is still silently hurting from his mother’s departure. He can’t imagine it; suddenly changing lives like you’ve merely changed your bed sheets and Iwaizumi had been so caught up in his own heartbreak, in his own bout of silent rage, that he’d forgotten that along the way, Hoisuke was also a victim to their endless fighting, the cold war that had broken his family apart. 

He wishes he can take the pain away, ease it somehow. But it’s not that simple. The truth is, no one can actually predict how a heart gets broken, nor when it does. The only evidence are the repurcussions. And it’s only now that Iwaizumi gets to see it truly take its form. 

Leaning over to press a soft kiss to Hoisuke’s forehead, Iwaizumi murmurs his silent goodnight before walking out and gently closing the bedroom door behind him. 

He leans onto the hard wooden surface and rubs his eyes. It is only upon pulling them away that he takes notice of the family photograph hanging on the opposite wall, frozen smiles wrapped up in lies.

He really needs to take that down.

-----

[djarinsbeskar]

PREQUEL ARC: PART 1 - THE DAGGER

A/N: I come bearing a brainchild. One I love deeply but am unsure of how it will be received! Straight off the bat I had planned for this to be something that satisfied those Din cravings we’ve all been having through a healthy dose of smut on the regular. BUT I wanted some background? Some context?? In my head we’ll have a few interactions i.e. chapters before the events of The Mandalorian and then kick off all guns blazing. Therefore, this pilot chapter is short, slow, and not a lot happens. (I should be in sales obv) but let’s get the ball rolling and see where it takes us!

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: Language, slight detail on wounds and their treatment.

Summary:  You encounter Mando suffering one misfortune after another.

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

6ABY, Derelkann, Klatooine.

The first time you met him, he’d been caught with a dagger laced with raquor’daan venom.

You had been locking up the side entrance to the voluntary medical center you spent your time at while on Klatooine when there was a resounding clatter. One of the many piles of discarded junk was toppled by an armored leg; equally armored arms braced by the side of the center while the imposing cut of the figure steadied himself. You could just about hear the labored pants, distorted by the modulator of his helmet; a sound familiar enough to you to know it wasn’t from exertion, but pain. Once you’d determined he wasn’t an immediate threat, weighing the possibilities as quickly as you could, you walked deeper down the alley towards the male. It was dark, the only light coming from the streetlight at the front of the clinic and that which was reflected from the man’s helmet but still you went. 

“Are you hurt?” The helmet snapped around to stare at you and you immediately held up your hands, instinct screaming at you that to startle this man would be like cornering a cantankerous reek during mating season: a bad idea. 

An even worse idea when you realized that your cornered reek was Mandalorian.

Even though you couldn’t see his eyes through the tinted t-visor, you could feel them on you; watching, calculating, assessing what danger you might pose all in a split second before he pushed himself from the wall with a grunt.

“This is a clinic?” He rasped, your eyes instantly following his left hand as it moved to grip above the dull grey tasset that protected his right hip. Trying to smother the pain with pressure, or stem blood loss. You couldn’t tell with his glove and the dark duraweave in the way.

“Well?” He bit out impatiently, jarring you back from trying to assess him from a safe distance.

“Oh, oh yes, yes this is one of the New Republic’s medical outreach centers in the Outer Rim. Please,” you indicated to the door for him to follow you but instead his visor tipped to the left and right marginally. You frowned; he was trying to avoid being seen. Was he wanted? After six months on Klatooine, you had learned to stop asking questions of your patients, so you said nothing. Neither did he as he walked towards the door you had been in the process of locking.

You kicked back into gear. Even though you had mentally unwound for the evening after a twelve-hour shift, you were quickly able to refocus your mind and sped up to keep pace with the Mandalorian. A task, he would probably hate to know, that wasn’t as difficult as it might have been if he was unharmed. His movements were stiff, and it was obvious that he was trying to force his body to walk fluidly despite the obvious pain it was putting him in.

The side door opened onto the main corridor that encircled a number of examination rooms, operating theatres and wards, all pointing inward so that the same power generator could be used for the entire clinic from where it sat in the center. A common feature of New Republic operations; efficient and cost effective if not always the best option. It explained why it was so dim, despite being an all-hours clinic. If they put the majority of the technological functions of the center to rest at night when it wasn’t busy, there were less fear of it being temperamental during the day. Or Maker forbid, a full power outage.

Opening the door to the closest examination room, you quickly pulled off your jacket and tossed it onto the nearest unused flat surface, pointing to the exam table in the corner, “Sit down before you fall down. A diagnostics droid will be here in---”

“No droids.” He hissed; his helmet once more twisting to glare at you even as he lowered himself heavily to sit on the table.

“No droids? Look, the quickest way---”

“You do it. I don’t want any of those things near me, got it?” His words were slurring slightly, and any argument died on your tongue when you realized trying to argue your case was just going to waste time. He was losing consciousness.

You knew you could treat him without the assistance of droids, it was more for convenience and time. But even still, you had spent four years as a combat medic for the Rebel Alliance on the frontline, you knew a thing or two about getting things done quickly.

“Belt. Tasset. Off. Now.” Was all you said as you got down to business and pulled one of the drawers to the side open. You pulled a pair of gloves on before you flicked the examination light on, the sudden glare hurting your eyes momentarily as you approached the large warrior on your table.

“Don’t make me tell you again.” You warned as you adjusted the settings on the light to focus itself to the optimum location for you to get a better look. The duraweave above his armor was dark, blood no doubt but it looked dry. You could feel your skin humming with the anxiety of not knowing what sort of injury was waiting for you underneath that gloved hand but knew better than to try to remove the armor yourself. You might not be a Siniteen, but you weren’t stupid either, to try remove a Mandalorian’s armor without permission.

You could hear the heavy exhales from him through his nose as he pointedly stared away from you, as if his sheer willpower alone would be enough to deter you from your demands.

“Fine.” You bit out and immediately slapped the hand covering his side, the added pressure making the man grunt and his hand instantly retract from the contact on instinct before growling at you in an unknown tongue.

You tuned him out as you lifted a side of the single tear in the duraweave to reveal an angry and inflamed cauterized laceration, the swelling alone telling you how botched the job was. But it was the faint black veins that were slowly growing from the point of contact that worried you. You’d seen this kind of wound before, on Sriluur. It was commonly used in gang warfare that had engulfed the planet since the fall of the Empire.

“Fucking hell, what idiot cauterizes a poisoned wound?” You muttered to yourself, feeling around the edges of the gash lightly and earning a shaky exhale from your patient.

“Are you calling me an idiot?” The Mandalorian bit out as he turned his helmet to look down at you again, his hands fisted at the side of the table. The jolt of pain had revived him slightly.

“If you’re the one who cauterized it, then yeah. I’m surprised you haven’t already killed yourself accidentally with this level of carelessness.”

You stood before the warrior could respond but you heard his snarl through the modulator as you quickly began grabbing the supplies you’d need.

“I’m not going to tell you this won’t hurt because honestly, it’s going to massively suck. It would have been bad enough if you’d shown up with an open wound infected with raquor’daan poison, but we’re going to have to reopen yours if we want to be able to extract the poison.” You threw a sterilized scalpel into the metal pan that hovered beside you, along with gauze, several saline syringes and bactaspray before you walked back over to him.

The armored warrior said nothing and stared at you, a flash of awareness running through you suddenly; that he could so easily kill you, wounded or not.

The silence stretched for several long seconds before the Mandalorian reached down to unbuckle the utility belt around his waist unhurriedly and dropped it beside him so that it wasn’t in either of your way. It was a blatant challenge when he leaned back on his hands, his visor staying trained on you as you narrowed your gaze; the belt could come off, but the tasset stayed on.

In another situation, the act might have been almost erotic, with his fingers unbuckling the belt deliberately slow as if daring you to speak to the contrary. Silent, yet commanding your undivided attention as he made himself comfortable on the table. But alas, the man in front of you was poisoned and that tended to skew the situation away from sexy.

You arched a single brow, picking up the scalpel as you accepted the proverbial gauntlet thrown to you.

“Buckle up, pal.”

***

You were a demon. Hell spawn sent to torment him in his dying moments, doomed to have no peace before the end.

At least, that’s what Din told himself as you set the wicked sharp blade of the scalpel against his skin. The skill with which you sliced open the recently closed wound before he could even blink was both inspiring and chilling. He didn’t know what he expected a medic on Klatooine to look like, but it certainly wasn’t you. You looked much too soft, too young but the unwavering focus in your gaze as you gently pulled the seams of the wound apart told him of an inner steel.

His inner lamentations over demonic medics and soft eyes distracted him fabulously from the pain of the wound he’d received on Sriluur while picking up a quarry up until the hellion squeezed one side of the wound, making him shout at the blend of white hot agony and surprise at which the pain came.

“Fucking hell!” he growled, shifting under your ruthless touch.

“Stop moving, Mando. The poison needs to be pulled out and since you don’t want droids we’re doing it the old fashioned way.” You didn’t raise your eyes to him, even as he glared daggers at the top of your head, a hiss of pain leaving him again as you pressed along the exposed flesh towards the edge of the wound again, his head spinning at the expelled blood, the crimson laced with inky black.

A moment of relief followed as the medic cleaned the wound with the saline solution before she wiped it down and repeated the process of squeezing the poison out followed by a clean.

“Almost there… hang in there. You’re doing great.” Din rolled his eyes behind his helmet; the generic medical praise made his stomach churn. It was obvious you had slipped into autopilot, rehashing the same comments that made most patients relax while you shifted to try get the opposite edge. This one being significantly more difficult to clean as the piece of armour that he had flatly refused to take off, was making it awkward to move around.

“Son of a druk throwing skrog!” If he wasn’t in pain, he’d have chuckled at the absolute filth coming from your mouth, putting a pirate to shame while you blew a few stray hairs that had fallen from your tie and into your face during your attempts to shift yourself to better clean the wound. As it was, he just leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling, reciting the Creed in his head to distract himself.

He couldn’t decide if you belonged fighting in a shady cantina or leading a triage camp on a battlefield. All he could determine, was that you had a mind that didn’t falter at the lack of technology or use of droids (a rarity these days), you had a mouth that’d make even Paz Vizsla blush and the spine to tell a Mandalorian to remove his armor without the least bit of hesitation. In a word; you were dangerous, and Din never saw the need to experience more danger than he already did, thank you very much.

He tilted his head when he heard you release a breath and sit back on your haunches, running the back of your hand across your forehead, eyes bright as they looked at your work. In what Din could only explain as being delusions brought on by overexposure to raquor’daan venom, a moment of attraction flashed in his mind, kindled when you looked back up at him before he wrangled the feeling away.

Dangerous. Definitely dangerous, he warned himself heatedly.

***

You let out a sigh of relief when the blood from the Mandalorians wound ran clean. It wasn’t a definitive answer to whether you had gotten all the raquor’daan venom out, but it was the majority. At least now you could sleep easy knowing some bactaspray would be able to handle the rest.

You rinsed the wound once more with saline and dried it gently with a clean pad before spraying it generously with the bacta.

“Now then, at least I can say a Mandalorian didn’t die on my watch.” You commented cheerfully, your more easy-going side surfacing now that the immediate danger had been dealt with.

The warrior was silent above you as he watched you peel open a bactapad to cover the wound for extra protection.

“Don’t cauterize it again until you’ve given the bacta at least eight hours with direct contact. That should kill off any of the poison I may have missed and will keep it sterile.” Pushed yourself to your feet, pulling off the stained gloves and throwing them into the pan to be disposed along with all the soiled gauze and pads you had used.

“You’re looking for light pink at the edges.” You told him as you continued to clear up your supplies, “If it’s still angry and swollen at the edges after twenty-four hours you’ll need to return to a medical facility. But I’ll throw in some antibiotics, so you hopefully don’t have to, raquor’daan venom is potent after all. I wouldn’t take any chances if you’re going to say you think it’s overkill.”

You smiled as he lowered his hand, having lifted it to interrupt you, no doubt. You could hear him grumble a bit while he pulled his belt back around his waist, grunting softly as the weight settled on his hip.

“How does it feel?” You probed from the sink, turning your head to look at him as you washed your hands.

“Better.” Was all you got from him but from what you could tell, he was a man of few words anyway.

You nodded and turned back to turn off the tap and started measuring out three days of antibiotics, keeping him in your peripheral as you saw him get to his feet, rolling his shoulders back and turning to look at you.

“Thank you. I appreciate the help.” He rasped awkwardly, obviously not accustomed to actually being helped in these kinds of situations. He fished out a pouch of credits when you approached him to hand him the antibiotics, causing you to frown.

“These medical centers were set up to offer free medical care to those that need it.” You mentioned as you moved out of his way to lean against the table he had been sitting on not five minutes prior.

“I… can only offer you my gratitude then.” He said, nodding to you once more before heading towards the door.

“One more thing Mando.” You called as he opened the door, the beskar helmet turning slightly to indicate he was listening,

“Try not to get yourself killed by accidentally sealing venom into your body again, yeah?”

You laughed at the indignant snort that left the man as he left without a word, his voice trailing back as he walked away,

“If I do, I know where to go.”

And with that, he disappeared back the way he came, no indication that one of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy had even been in your examination room.

He was like a tornado, arriving and disappearing in a flash, the wreckage left behind not immediately obvious but when you would look back in the years to come, you’d laugh at how naïve you had been to think you could assist a Mandalorian and still remain an insignificant player on the grand stage of the galaxy.

[shorkbrian]

Omg okay uh... Nasty stalker Bakugou breaking in to his darling's home only for them to come home early to see their yandere in their room, laying in their bed. Bakugou's surprised but smug, deciding now's a better time than ever to take them away

Titled “Bakugou coming to terms with the fact he’s a nasty, nasty man.”

Prelude - this is trash. I am trash. I’ve been stuck for a bit with requests and getting motivation to write, but I’m trying to work through it and so we have this. ANEEWAYZ Anon, this is an awesome request and made me p hornee, 10/10

Prompt - at the toP

Pairing - Bakugou X Reader

Warnings - NSFW, non con, cunnilingous. No penetration. Bakugou got a HUGE scent kink lol sorry 

Music - no <3

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

 Bakugou was disgusted with himself.

Here he was, a good looking male, and he was spending his free time breaking into a woman’s apartment for the hundredth time. Is it even considered “breaking and entering” if he had a key? It was a stolen key, and Bakugou knew he would still be thrown into jail if the object of his affections ever found out just how often he chose to “visit” without permission.

Yet he couldn’t stop himself from coming back.

Turning the (stolen) key in the lock, the blonde pushed the door open, glancing towards the neighboring apartment doors before he stepped inside. It would be no good if your neighbors saw him sneaking in - they might ask you about your “new man,” and you’d get suspicious. 

Bakugou wiped his shoes on the welcome mat, quietly slipping them off and placing them on the bottom shelf of your shoe rack. He knew it was stupid, but he liked to pretend that he was coming home from work, about to slip into bed with you and feel you in his arms as you kissed him hello. Unfortunately, the reality had you still at work, making and serving fancy coffee at the little cafe you worked in, and Bakugou was nothing more than a creep, fantazing about a woman that had done little more than take his order.

Did you even know he existed? Bakugou thought you might; he did come to the cafe every Wednesday morning, sat in the chair that allowed him to see the staff as they worked. It would be hard to miss his presence, considering the scene he had caused on one of his coffee runs. A man had bumped into you as you were placing Bakugou’s coffee on the table, causing you to spill it everywhere (including on Bakugou’s lap, which had fuckin’ hurt, the liquid being hotter than the surface of the sun). Before you could even take a breath to apologize, Bakugou was on his feet, verbally attacking the man that had stumbled into you.

He really ripped into the stranger, not hesitating to use every insult he knew to demean the man for jostling you. Bakugou knew his personality was abrasive and that he had a short temper, but seeing someone touch you so casually and cause you an unnecessary hardship had him angrier than normal. By the time Bakugou was done yelling, the man was beet red, sweating, apologizing profusely to both Bakugou and you for causing any inconvenience. 

The look you had given Bakugou as the man left made his heart squeeze. Your eyes were blazing, fists clenched as you stared the blonde down, mouth set in a way that made your lips jut out in a frown.

“Sir, there was no reason to yell at that poor man. It was an honest mistake that I could’ve easily handled.”

Bakugou was shocked. 

“Yeah, a fucking “mistake” alright. Motherfucker didn’t even think to apologize before I said anything.” “I don’t need a white knight. Sit down and leave it be, or else I’ll have no problem kicking you out.”

You had been so bossy and confident, Bakugou reluctantly sat down, grumbling about his burnt junk while you went to grab napkins to clean up the spill. 

From then on, the blonde watched you like a hawk, enjoying the way you chewed out rude customers or made crude jokes with your coworkers when you thought no one was listening. He was hooked, baited by your personality into learning more about you. However, he knew that you probably wanted nothing to do with him, knew that you would probably laugh in his face if he asked for your number.

So he resorted to this.

As humiliating as it was, as wrong as he knew it to be, Bakugou enjoyed being in your apartment. Everything smelled like you, he was able to figure out your favorite snacks and dishes, got to see what you liked to read. 

The first few times he followed you home from the cafe, he told himself he was doing it for your own safety. You had such a smart mouth, lots of customers had been miffed by the way you called attention to their rudeness. It wouldn’t take much for one of them to follow you home, try to put their hands on you.   When it slowly evolved into the man breaking into your apartment, Bakugou told himself that it was just out of curiosity, even though deep down he was aware of a more sinister reason.

Even when the man went looking for your underwear drawer, he denied the action to himself, refused to think about what it meant or think about it for more than a few seconds. He refused to hold himself accountable for his feelings, nor for his actions. 

He was swimming in a sea of denial, letting his impulses and desires guide him.

 Consequences? That word wasn’t in his vocabulary when it came to his dealings with you.

What could the repercussions be? You were never home when he visited, you never knew he had been there, you never noticed him at work, never even acknowledged his existence. There had been no sign that you were aware of him following you home, following you to the store, following you to the mall. At this point, Bakugou was resigned to the fact that you would probably never notice him.

And if you did, so what? He easily had the means to take you away, keep you from ever revealing his “hobby” to the world (the more the man thought about it, the more the idea appealed).

Consequences be damned, Bakugou Katsuki did what he wanted to.

That’s why he allowed himself to go through your closet, look at your clothes and imagine you wearing them. He looked through your shoes, admiring your choices in fashion. He looked through your bathroom, noting what soaps you used and the skincare that littered the counter, the color of your toothbrush and the perfume that you saved for special occasions.

Bakugou’s favorite thing to do in your apartment was also the most shameful. It had started after a bad day, when he was already frustrated and heated. He had stormed into your apartment, and was too worked up to find the space as calming as it usually was. Bakugou had stomped towards your bedroom, wanted to bury his face in your pillows and breathe in your scent, forget about the stress of life. When he had tripped over the pile of dirty clothes in the doorway, he almost had a fit before realizing that the light blue lace on the top of the pile were your dirty panties.

His brain whispered that it was a good idea, so he acted upon his impulses and snatched them, proceeding to climb onto your bed and jack off.

Now it was a regular occurrence, him rooting through your laundry basket to find your latest pair. You were good about your laundry, so sometimes he had to settle for picking through your underwear drawer, which was notably less satisfying. Bakugou couldn’t figure out why until he thought about it for a second, coming to a riveting conclusion as he pressed your panties close to his face.

He liked the smell of you.

The man didn’t get to think about it further than that, already too worked up to do anything but pull his cock free, press your panties to his face, and fist his cock like it was the last time he’d ever get to touch himself.

Some days he would use your panties to stroke himself, bring himself to orgasm thinking about you and your body and the things he’d like to do to it. Other day’s he’d bunch your panties in his fist and press them against his face while he laid down on your bed, and he’d jerk himself off while taking in your scent.

Recently, he’d taken to spreading your panties on one of your pillows, before burying his nose into the fabric. He’d lay on his stomach and pump his cock, imagining that you were actually there, that his nose was buried in your pussy. Sometimes he’d get so lost in the fantasy that he’d start humping the bed, caught up in the smells assaulting his senses, the sensation of the bedspread dragging along his swollen cock. 

Today was one of those days where he was keyed up and just wanted to get off, bask in the cradle of your scent as he did so. So the second he entered your apartment, he was beelining for your bedroom, cock already half-hard in his pants. He was delighted to see that your laundry basket seemed fuller than yesterday, meaning that there was a fresh pair of panties that you had discarded there this morning.

He wanted to pat himself on the back for his observational skills when a quick search brought him anew pair of your dirty panties. As he headed to the bed, unbuckling his belt with one hand, he noticed that these were new, a pale pink fabric that was impossibly softer then your other pairs. Bakugou knew he wouldn’t be long today, felt like he was bursting already. It took hardly any time to get himself situated, the movements easy and familiar after having done this dozens of times already. He let his hips drop to the bed, bringing his hands up to clutch at the pillow he had laid your panties on, imagining it to be the softness of your legs he was burying his fingers into.  Bakugou buried his face into the crotch, breathing deeply through his nose as he slowly started to work his hips, the friction on his cock feeling delicious.

Bakugou was so worked up, so immersed in his fantasy that the clattering sound of dropped objects almost made him yelp, the blonde man turning his head to the side to glare at whatever had made the noise. He was so close, wanted to tip over the edge of orgasmic bliss and lie there with his face pressed to your panties for a bit before he had to clean up. How dare your neighbors thump on the wall, cause something to fall while he was busy masturbating on your bed.

His breath stuttered as his eyes settled on your figure, frozen in the doorway. 

His hips stopped moving.

You shouldn’t have been home this early.

—— There was a man on your bed.

There was an attractive man on your bed, you noted as he turned his head towards you.

There was an attractive man on your bed, sniffing your panties. You could see the pink fabric strewn across your pillow, right where the man had previously had his face. Had he been… sniffing your underwear?

If you could’ve managed not to drop your phone and keys in shock at seeing a strange man on your bed, you would be able to dial 911 before he could get up. As it stood, you were frozen in shock.

Thankfully, the man was too, doing nothing but blinking and breathing heavily. “Who the fuck are you?” You were always one to speak your mind, but in this situation, you wished you were able to act with more tact. The man blinked at you slowly, reaching his hand underneath him to - “Oh my god, your dick is out.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” His gruff voice responded. 

“I don’t know who your are, but you need to get out. Get out now or I’m calling the police.”

The man grunted as he tucked his still-hard dick back into his pants, slowly rising to his knees, moving towards the edge of the bed.

“Hey! I said you need to fucking leave. I’m - I’m gonna - “ You snatched your phone off the floor, watching the man freeze as you held it up. “- call the police. Get out of my apartment.”

“Calm the fuck down, what the fuck d’ya think I’m doing, huh dumbass?”  He held his hands up, carefully stepping off your bed. “I gotta move past you to get to the damn door, idiot.” You wanted to smack yourself. The man had a point. He seemed to be gearing to leave, trying to appear non-threatening as he inched towards you and the bedroom door. It occurred to you that you should move to the side so he wouldn’t touch you while he exited your bedroom. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your hand shook holding your phone. You put up a tough front, but that didn’t mean you didn’t feel fear

“Okay, hurry up then.”

The blonde man nodded, lowering his hands as he began walking normally, watching you move to the side of the door. 

You tried to memorize his face, make sure you’d be able to describe him to the police later after you were safely alone in your apartment, door locked and reinforced with a chair-

The man tackled you to the floor, his hands wrapping around the back of your head to cushion it against the hardwood. He had taken advantage of your rambling thoughts, using your distracted state to strike when he had slunk closer in the guise of reaching the door.

You acted on instinct, immediately trying to knee the man the second you caught your breath, reaching up to claw at his face. You were in the process of going for his eyes, intending to dig in until he was screaming, but the next thing you knew you were being lifted into the air, given a giant bear hug that trapped your arms against your sides.

“Let me go! Let me go!!” You shrieked, uselessly kicking your legs against his shins. He had you pressed to his chest in a crushing hug, and the angle offered you no leverage to inflict any damage.

“Fuck, knew you were a feisty little shit. You smell so goddamn good.” He had his face buried in your hair, and you could feel the rise of his chest as he inhaled deeply. 

You were thrown on the bed, the man immobilizing you by sitting on your abdomen before you had the chance to even sit up. With a gleeful grin, he started pulling at your shirt, ripping it over your head with ease. He ignored your ear-splitting “No!” As he did the same to your bra, his calloused hands warm where they met your skin. You hit at his sides, but he hardly reacted. 

Rearranging himself so he was facing your feet, the man began working on your pants, laughing as you kicked and squirmed.

“See, this is why I fuckin’ like you so much. Got so much fight in you, won’t go down without a little bit of work.”

Your pants were removed, then your panties, which you saw the man shove in his pants pocket. It was impossible to stop him when he turned back to your head, taking his own shirt off in the process. No wonder he was hard to fight, he was incredibly ripped, fit in every sense of the word.

The man grabbed your shirt and stuffed it in your mouth, wrapping the sleeves around your head and using them to tie the fabric firmly into a makeshift gag, effectively muffling  your cursing.

As you reached up to pull it off, the man manhandled you again. He scooted back and grabbed your arms, placing them under his knees, locking his feet together into a butterfly stretch. He bent your lower half over, your knees almost touching your chest as he scooted closer, lifting your head up so he could lay it gently on his feet.

You were essentially folded in half, the man trapping your arms with his legs, your butt resting against his naked chest, his face above your exposed pussy. No matter how your thrashed or wiggled, you couldn’t break free. The man knew how to completely immobilize someone within seconds, and it scared you to no end.

You were screaming behind the gag, throat starting to hurt as you refused to quit fighting, no matter how futile it was. The man pressed his face down to your pussy, wrapping an arm around your waist to hike you up closer to his face as he inhaled, making you yell profanities behind the gag. What he was doing was gross, scary; blood was starting to rush to your head and you were so tense you thought you might blackout.

Amidst your panicked breathing, you noticed the man had paused, was staring down at you while he himself breathed heavily. You wished he wouldn’t - each breath he exhaled sent a warm puff of air across your pussy, causing your body to involuntarily clench.

“If you’d stop making so much goddamn noise, I might not have to be so rough. I get it though, you don’t know me. ‘M Bakugou.” He offered, red eyes boring into your skull. You seethed, before spitting out a “Fuck you.”. It was muffled, but the man understood your meaning, chuckling darkly. “Yeah yeah, we might get to doing that shit later.”

You yelled, only to gasp as the man suddenly buried his face into your pussy, nose pressing against your clit. He started licking immediately, warm tongue wet and textured against your slit.  

It felt good.

You didn’t want it to.

The hand that wasn’t wrapped around your waist was fumbling against your back, between you and Bakugou. You were too focused on what was happening to your cunt to realize that the blonde was taking his dick out again, tenderly massaging the drooling head as he breathed in your pungent scent.

Bakugou was in heaven, lapping at your juices and inhaling your natural musk. He wished he could stay here forever, holding you close as he made the both of you feel good.

He groaned into your pussy, fisting his cock faster as he plunged his warm tongue inside your hole, wiggling the muscle and scraping at your walls. You twitched, your hips trying to rock back to chase the sensation even though your mind was screaming for them to still. Bakugou brought his tongue out, before thrusting is back in, essentially fucking you with his wet tongue.

It was humiliating, terrifying as you watched him, his red eyes slitted and clouded with lust as he drank in your scared whimpers, the man liking when your eyes squeezed shut when he did something with his tongue that you found particularly pleasurable. With a lewd squelch, the man stopped tongue-fucking you, moving to flick at your clit with the muscle, rubbing it back and forth in an agonizingly good motion.

With a muffled wail, you came.

Bakugou sped up the hand around his length, pumping himself furiously as he lapped at you through your orgasm, making you writhe with pleasure. He moaned as he reached his own orgasm, warm cum shooting from his cock to paint your back.

It was only when you started to squirm from oversensitivity did Bakugou stop mouthing at your pussy.  He laid his head against your thigh, still huffing and nuzzling at your pussy like a dog trying to scent.

You felt so disgusting.

Trying to kick at Bakugou was useless in this position, especially with how weak you were from orgasming but you still tried your best before his hands gripped your thighs tightly.

“Don’t get fuckin’ testy with me now.”  He leaned closer, smiling at you darkly. “You don’t gotta worry, imma fuck you real good before I take your ass home.”

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into The Unknown, Part 5

First

Previous

Tim finished up pretty quickly.

After all, all the baby toys seemed to just be different variations of each other. Some crinkle, some make sounds, some squish, some… do nothing at all? Tim had no clue how he used to get by as a kid.

He ended up getting Damian three toys:

A tiny rubber duck. He’s almost completely sure that Marinette would have bought one if Tim hadn’t. At least when he was the one buying it he could opt to get the Darth Vader one (Damian had always been woefully uncultured, this was his one chance to make the kid watch sci-fi without risking getting stabbed).

A plush cow with crinkly ears. He had to hope that this could maybe jog memories of Batcow and, in turn, everything else. Tim had tried to think of something a little more relevant but all he could think of were things related to Batman, to Superboy, to the League of Assassins (did their lives really revolve around vigilante-work that much?)... and, unfortunately, this reality didn’t have merch that he could give the kid.

And a squishy plastic baguette. Because that was all he could think of to get back at Marinette for the duck thing.

When it came to little kid books he hesitated for just a bit before getting the basics -- stuff like animals and the letters and Spot The Dog. He wondered, vaguely, if he’d have to teach the kid numbers since they already used the Arabic numeral system. He got a book on it just in case.

Then he got a couple of books on parenting.

He checked out and then walked back to the sitting area where he was supposed to meet Marinette.

… she was taking forever.

He sighed quietly and skimmed through a book on parenting.

… oops they were supposed to breastfeed until Damian was about two. No clue what to do about that. Maybe the kid was already used to a bottle? He hoped so. He’d watch him more carefully while Marinette was holding him to see. In the meantime, he’d get a bottle and some formula on top of the baby food they’d been getting so far.

Alright so the kid was supposed to learn behaviors and language through observation. Good. That, hopefully, solved that problem. Tim probably would have just given the kid a textbook and said ‘good luck’. Marinette… he didn’t really know what Marinette would have done, but the woman wasn’t a teacher as far as he could tell and asking her to teach the kid properly was a little unfair.

Babies around his age are supposed to speak in something called… protowords? Like… a baby language? Damn, he has a miraculous and it seemingly allows him the power to understand every language but apparently ‘baby-speak’ didn’t count as a language. Tim called bullshit.

He felt a weight settle down on the bench next to him and absently glanced over.

Marinette sent him a slightly tired smile. She was wearing a new, dark red scarf.

He opened his mouth to say something only to have her shake her head and adjust her scarf a little to show him something.

Ah. It looked like Damian had fallen asleep on her shoulder so she’d fashioned the scarf into a makeshift baby sling.

“Could’ve used the stroller,” he whispered, setting his receipt in the book to mark his page.

She snorted. “And risk waking him? He cries every time he wakes up, I’m not dealing with that right now.”

He bit his lip. “You know… this book says he’s supposed to cry for, like, an hour to an hour and a half a day.”

She tipped her head to the side a little. “He’s cried like… three times.”

“Yeah, and he was really easy to shut up. Decidedly not normal.”

They looked back down at Damian, identical frowns on their faces.

“Does it have an explanation for why he’d be like this?” Marinette asked, her voice soft.

Tim hesitated.

“The only reasons I can think of are that he doesn’t think we’d help him if he cried or he thinks crying is something he’d be punished for. Considering how he was raised… it could be either. Or both.”

~

Marinette yawned as she sat back on the hotel bed. She leaned back against Tim, leaving him to bear the weight of both her and Damian.

He, to his credit, barely even blinked. He turned slowly until they were both leaning back against each other.

She tipped her head back to rest on his shoulder.

She could fall asleep like this, she thought. Propped against Tim. Damian, in her arms, watching an episode of something called True and the Rainbow Kingdom… it was nice.

Or, at least, it would be if Tim could stop that infernal tapping.

“Ugh, could you stop that? Some people actually sleep.”

He gave a tiny puff of laughter that acknowledged that he heard her but, alas, he continued typing.

She groaned a little and reached a hand behind herself to give him a tiny bap to his side.

“Hm. This may shock you, but hitting me really hasn’t helped your case.”

She huffed and twisted around to try and see over his shoulder. She’d given up on sleeping, anyway.

“What are you even doing?”

He shrugged just slightly. “Trying to figure out what to do about money.”

She nodded slowly, looking over his shoulder as he scrolled through jobs they could do with zero experience or degrees. That could sustain a family of three and pay for the daycare they would have to take Damian to. The options... weren’t great.

Damian tugged on her shirt for her attention and she looked down as he pointed at his screen with a bright smile. There was a black cat on the screen. She didn’t really know what he wanted until he kept saying ‘ma’ over and over. She nodded and said ‘cat’ in both Arabic and English, which seemed to sate him as he went back to watching… the giant green yeti monster stealing a basket of candy? What the fuck was even going on on this show? Were kids’ shows like this in her own world, too? Or was this one’s shows just especially weird?

A thought occurred to her and she looked back over at Tim.

“You exist in this world, right?”

He nodded absently and opened a tab that, despite its claim that it was an entry level job, apparently required two years of experience and a degree. He closed it quickly.

“Why don't we just mooch off of the other you?”

Tim sighed. “Because that’s illegal?”

“You’re a vigilante. I don’t think that ‘borrowing’ money from your alternate self is where you should draw the line on illegal activities.”

“I draw the line when it harms innocent people.”

She laughed at that. “He’s rich. It’s not like he’s going to miss it. Think of it as… giving the money to people who need it.”

“You’re a regular robin hood,” Tim said sarcastically.

“I know. I’m so kind,” she agreed, grinning.

There were a few moments of silence.

Then, finally, he shook his head. “Even if we could somehow do that -- which I can’t guarantee because I’m not completely sure I could guess my passwords -- the fact that we’re in Texas… he’d notice.”

She shrugged. “Then let’s move back to Gotham.”

He blinked and finally looked up from the computer. “What?”

“We don’t have much of a life here, really, so why not move?”

He considered this for a while before sighing and flopping back on the bed. “Let me see if I can even get into the account. There’s nothing to say that I even have the same social security number here...”

She nodded her understanding and laid back next to him. Damian whined a little at the sudden displacement but just ran a hand up and down his back absently until he was watching his show again, completely silent as he stared at the screen. Now the main girl was reaching into her bag for a weird orb of light that was, apparently, sentient. Was this the Dora of their world? God help their children.

Speaking of helping their children...

She picked up a parenting book to read while Tim tried to guess his otherworldly counterpart’s passwords.

~

Tim managed to get in.

He rested his head in his hands, cursing quietly.

She glanced over and smiled at his slightly flushed face.

“What was the password?”

He grumbled under his breath.

This only seemed to encourage her more because she started nudging his shoulder, the soft smile morphing into a cheeky grin.

He sighed and took a moment to gather himself before looking over at her. “It’s… ‘<3Richard<3graysons<3little<3brother<3’.”

“... I don’t get it.”

“Good. So you can’t tease me about it,” he said, sticking his tongue out at her.

She scoffed. “That’s not fair.”

“Totally is.”

He set the computer down beside himself and stretched his achy old bones. He’d had a baby for approximately two days now and he could already feel the bad back setting in. Tomorrow he would have gray hair.

“I’m going to look it up if you don’t tell me.”

“... he’s a celebrity,” Tim said quietly.

Her grin wavered back towards that genuine smile for just a second before spreading into an even wider grin. She reached out and pinched his cheeks. “Awwww, Tim, that’s so cute --!”

“Shut up,” he complained, batting her hands away.

She snickered. “No. I’m going to write that password on your tombstone.”

“You’re assuming I’m going to die first.”

“I have an extended lifespan. You’re only going to have that for another fifteen years. After that? Unless I’m really stupid you’re gonna die first.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to find out how to be immortal now. Purely to spite you.”

She snorted. “Okay. Good luck with that.”

“Thank you.”

With that, he pushed himself up with a groan. “I’m going to get him ready for bed.”

She nodded her understanding and continued with her reading.

Damian whined a little when Tim tried to take him away from where he had curled up next to Marinette but that seemed to be more because he was tired and cranky than genuine distress.

Tim was the one to bathe him. It wasn’t a bubble bath, he wasn’t eager to repeat the previous night’s mistakes, but he did give Damian the rubber duck. This seemed to work for all of them, since Damian now allowed them to take him out of the bath as long as he got to bring his duck.

Marinette grinned when she looked over at where Damian was chewing on his rubber duck as Tim struggled to click the annoyingly difficult buttons of the onesie into place.

“Told you he would love it.”

“We both know that wasn’t why you wanted to get it.”

“And we both know you didn’t get that squishy bread-thing just because you thought he would like it, either.”

He smiled. “Maaaaaybe.”

The onesie finally allowed itself to be buttoned and Tim picked Damian up so he could get into bed.

Marinette frowned. “This book says we shouldn’t let him sleep with us every night. Says it creates a bad habit that’s hard to break.”

Tim raised an eyebrow at her but, reluctantly, carried the kid over to the crib so they could sleep separately.

“Fine. But I’m going to sleep before him so I don’t stress out all night.”

She snickered. “Fine. Fine.”

He climbed into bed, set a pillow between them, and promptly dozed off before he could get woken up by Damian whimpering through the night.

… Tim woke up a few hours later -- his body wasn’t quite used to sleeping through nights just yet -- to find that Marinette had brought the kid into bed with them again.

He smiled a little and moved the pillow out from between them. Even if Damian was currently too trapped in Marinette’s arms to even reach it, it was best to make sure it couldn’t happen.

Damian whimpered a little in his sleep again and Tim tipped his head to the side. He reached over and gently combed his fingers through the fuzzy little tufts of hair that the kid had so far. Damian relaxed.

Tim sighed and shifted in the bed until he was closer to Damian, then maneuvered through Marinette’s mess of limbs to press a tiny kiss to the top of his head. The baby smiled in his sleep and, though the kid couldn’t see it, he returned the smile. He rested an arm around the kid as well in hopes that it would keep the kid feeling safe before allowing himself to drift off.

~~~~~

Next

@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

[shurisneakers]

shut in [2]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Gender Neutral Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied violence, drama kings, and stupid tv show references

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: ayeeee, we’re back for part two. i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

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Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

Hours were spent on the road in thick silence. 

The both of you had been driving around for a while now. You were a considerable distance away from the mansion and Pierce, but you didn’t dare to stop.

Initially you had only put the pedal to the metal without solid plan. Get the fuck away from there was the only objective you cared about. 

Hours later a signboard registered in your frantic thoughts. Familiarity struck a chord, and all of a sudden you had a vague idea of where you could go. You were unsure if it still existed, but it was a risk you were willing to take.

Darkness still coloured the sky, but the roads were deserted. No cameras along the highway was a welcomed feature. You eased your foot off the accelerator, carefully assessing the path you were taking for your exit. 

You saw a small clearing near the highway, taking a deep breath before pulling the car into a sharp turn off the road and into the woods.

“Where are you going?” your companion jolted up when the car swerved abruptly. 

You didn’t answer; just kept your eyes peeled for the structure. You didn’t have a backup plan if this didn’t go right.

It took much longer than you anticipated before you found it, pulling the car to a stop. You were deeper into the woods than you would have liked. 

You stuck your head out of the window to confirm you were at the right place. It looked like you were.

“Where the hell are we?”

“My summer vacation house,” you murmured, unbuckling your seatbelt. You stepped out of the car to assess the damage. .

Another door opening and closing told you that he had gotten out of the car as well. However, he trudged ahead, leaving you behind. 

The car was pretty beaten up. The metal gates hadn’t done it any favours.The question was whether it would still work if you needed it to.

Probably would, but not for too long.

You looked to the side to see where he went. He was standing in front of the house, arms crossed over his chest as he ran his eyes all over the building.

You trekked past him, walking up the two steps to the door. Pulling at what looked like a doorbell in any other scenario, you tugged off the outer shell to reveal a small scanner underneath.

You pressed your thumb to it, tapping your foot impatiently as it gave a beep of approval. The door gave a soft click. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding, twisting the handle to let yourself in. 

“You’re kidding right?” he asked incredulously from a distance behind you.

“Hey, man, stay outside if you want. Suit yourself.” You were sure he could fashion a bed out of leaves and twigs if he was that desperate.

Fumbling for the light switch, you sigh in relief when the room is illuminated.

“Whose safehouse is this?”

“Ransone’s.” You shrugged nonchalantly, moving ahead to inspect the place.

“I have every single one of his safehouses committed to memory.” His voice was becoming fainter as he planted his feet firmly at the doorway, refusing to move. “This ain’t one of them.”

“He’s sneaky. Once watched the next episode of Desperate Housewives without telling me.” The house wasn’t as dusty as you thought it would be, clearly being maintained once in a while although not regularly. “Broke my whole heart, he did.”

“Whose house is this?” he asked once again, tone hard as steel.

“Best that you don’t ask questions, buddy.” You looked at him wearily, a slo warning in itself, ending the conversation there. “Or else you’re welcome to leave.”

The entrance opened directly into what you assumed was the living room, or a sorry excuse for one. It had a couch facing an old cable television set, mounted on a small cupboard.

In the same space was the kitchen, with a microwave, a sink, and shelves lining the wall. A small mini fridge sat atop the counter.  There was a dining table with six chairs for a family, almost like a sick joke. You found yourself letting out a short exhale at it, moving onto the next room.

It was bare except for a shelf pressed against a well. Opening it, you found yourself looking at multitudes of what looked like burner phones, microphones, cameras, some as small as a button. Regular security cameras and monitors to go with it, trackers, anything you needed was available in those four drawers.

You pocketed a burner cell to use for later, moving to the room on the opposite side of the hall.

However, unlike the rest of the rooms you had seen so far, this one was empty. Not even a shelf decorating it.

The next door you opened was a bathroom, the final being a bedroom with one bed in the centre pushed up against the wall. A wardrobe in the corner contained numerous t-shirts of black and grey of every size, tactical pants and other necessary items of clothing.

You eyed the last door at the end of the hall before finally deciding to pursue it.

It opened to the patio in the back, two steps leading down from the house into the wooded area. Pillars held up the corners of the roof. It all looked picturesque, meant to blend in as a normal house.

You stood there for a second, taking in the silence around you. Nothing could be heard for miles, so if something were to happen-

You shook your head, forcing your imagination to stop running wild. You shut the door behind you, steadily making your way back to where the guy was.

It appeared that he had caved. He had moved from the doorway, instead taking a seat on one of the dining chairs. He was observing you, eyes keen as you took a seat opposite to him.

Dropping the burner phone on the table, you looked at him expectantly. Silence ensued until it dawned on him what you were implying. 

“I’m not calling him,” the guy said, leaning on his palm. Coward. 

“Fine.” You pulled it back, snapping it open to dial the number.

You let it ring all the way until the very last second.

“Hello?” the low voice resonated from the other end.

“Ransone.” You rolled your eyes at his tone, somehow letting your exhaustion tear down any kind of filter you usually had while in conversation with him. 

“Y/N?” His voice jumped two octaves higher to his usual pitch, dropping the facade immediately. 

“Did you set us up?” You ignored the small glance you got from the guy at your name.

“What?”

“Did you set us up?” you repeated brazenly.

“What?”

“Oh, cut the shit Ransone, was this a trap?” The guy next to you exploded impatiently.

“Wilson?” Great. A name to the face.

“Answer the fuckin’ question, Vincent.” The mention of Ranone’s first name had you surprised. No one dared to call him that.

“No, Sam,” came his response almost mockingly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sam Wilson. It sounded familiar. You’d heard it tossed around a few times at the organisation.

“Why were both of us on the same assignment?”

“I told you, I wasn’t sure if Wilson was going to show up.” You could hear his chair faintly creak in the background. “This was his mission first.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” you interjected. Faint memories of a passing comment he made during your briefing were beginning to surface. 

“It means,” Ransone emphasised. “I called him first. He was being a bit… difficult. So I sent you as a backup.”

You looked at Sam. He dismissed you with a wave of his hand, as if to say to ignore what he was saying.

“And you didn’t think it was important to tell me that you were sending someone else?” If Ransone had told you, he should have mentioned it to him too.

“Oh, grow up.” Ransone sounded irritated, a tone that he seemed to reserve for Sam specifically. “You’re not children anymore. You can handle a few miscommunications.”

“Bullshit. You and I both know this isn’t an accident,” Sam retorted, dangerously good at not giving a shit. 

“You better watch yourself, agent.” Ransone snarled. “I don’t like being questioned.”

“Like I give a shit about what you like or not. We were outnumbered 8 to 2. You tellin’ me you had nothing to do with this? That the stars just aligned to royally fuck with us?”

“Yes, I waited until Mercury was in retrograde to plan this hit,” he drawled sarcastically. “Don’t you for a second forget what you owe me, Wilson. You’d be stupid to believe I’d let it go so easily by having you killed.”

His voice was ice by the end. Sam’s eyebrow furrowed as he leaned back, crossing his arm over his chest.

“Then what about me?”

“Y/N,” he sighed, instantly sounding softer. “I didn’t think he would show. That’s it.”

“You’ve never been unsure of anything.”

“Which is why I sent you in. Pierce had to die one way or the other. Don’t care how.” It wasn’t what you were talking about, but it brought up something else. 

You looked at Sam. Should you tell him that Pierce was dead before you got there?

You decided against it, not knowing what his reaction would be and too tired to gauge it over the phone. If someone else had gotten to Pierce before you, it meant that Ransone didn’t get a chance to deliver a dramatic end to his life, which would tick him off endlessly. 

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Sam broke the momentary pause.

“You don’t.” He paused. “Distrusting me is the wisest thing you could do.”

You scoffed at his stupid Game of Thrones quote. How he was this obnoxious at a time like this was beyond comprehension. 

“Give me your location.” He couldn’t sound less interested, like a parent forced to pick up their child. “I’ll send someone to come pick you up.”

Sam’s finger tapped at the table, drawing your attention to him.

He slowly shook his head, mentioning to his ear then drawing his finger in a circle indicating his surroundings.

Disclosing confidential information over the phone wasn’t the wisest idea. You had no idea if anyone was tapping into Ransone’s calls, listening for sensitive information. For all you knew that’s how they got to the mansion before you. 

“Forget it. We’ll figure it out,” you told Ransone, eyes still locked on Sam.

“All right, stay low for a while. Keep me updated.”

You cut the call without another word, removing the battery and tossing the phone onto the table.

“What now?”

Neither of you said anything for a while. The silence rested uncomfortably between you as you stewed over what to bring up. 

“Did you kill Pierce?”

“Christ, we still on this?” he scoffed.

“It’s a yes or no question.” 

“No,” he stared at you. “I didn’t.”

“Did Ransone send you to spy on me?” It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened, although you thought he had moved past the need for that years ago. 

“No, I was there for a mission.”

“You got any proof?”

He rolled his eyes. “Scout’s honour.”

He lifted his hand up in a mock-salute. A wince flashed across his face; barely, but enough for you to catch it. His arm dropped back down again.

You examined him silently, searching for any hint of a lie or bluff. You found nothing, only an adamant set of eyes staring right back at you.

Your chair creaked as you pushed yourself away from the table. You could feel his gaze following you as you walked down the hall to the bathroom. Shuffling through the shelves for something you were sure was there, you soon stepped back out.

You had no idea why you were doing this. You didn’t even know the guy.

He had his sleeve pulled up to his shoulder, examining the wound from the bullet graze. Dried blood streaked his forearm, partially covering his tattoo.

You tossed the first aid kit onto the table, watching it slide across to where he was sitting. Sam glanced at the box, then up at you.

You just turned around silently, walking back down the hall and towards the bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

__________

Sleep didn’t come that night, and predictably so.

Whether it was the survival instinct guarding you from the stranger in the house, the adrenaline from the mission or even the anxiety of not knowing what exactly was going on, you were sure that you didn’t catch even a bit of shut eye.

Morning came around after what seemed like days rather than hours. You still stayed in bed well past the sunrise, pulling at the hem of your pillow. Your knife was still strapped to your thigh and your gun found a place on the nightstand, just in case.

When you heard the opening and shut of cabinets down the hall, you finally pulled yourself up, stretching to get rid of the weariness in your muscles. You decided against the gun but left the knife strapped to your thigh as you shifted off the bed.

You paused at the doorway, hand on the knob. Shoving aside your hesitation, you opened the door quietly. You could handle it, easily.

Walking towards the kitchen, the volume of his ruffling and filing through the kitchen only became louder. You stopped at the entrance, watching as Sam slammed a cabinet door shut.

“C’mon man,” he groaned before turning around to lean his body weight against the counter. There was a small bump under the sleeve of his arm, different from the curve of his muscle. You assumed he had bandaged the bullet graze the night before.

He was still wearing the same thing as yesterday. Dust was slightly settled on his shirt and one knee of his pants was ripped slightly.

“Mornin’.” You quickly looked back up at him, not realising when he had seen you. “Get any sleep last night?”

You wordlessly shook your head and he shrugged in understanding. 

“Did you?”

“Oh yeah. Out like a light.” He pushed himself off the counter.

“Really?” You watched as he pulled out a chair for himself, taking a place at the dining table, same place he was sitting the night before.

“Sounded like the reasonable thing to do.” He had an unnatural amount of faith in the fact that you wouldn’t murder him. Although you couldn’t judge if he was simply putting on a show, having stayed awake just as you had. 

“I'm stuck in a safehouse with a stranger, forgive me for being a little careful,” you muttered defensively, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hey, never said you were wrong.” He lifted his hands up. “But just to make sure; are you going to kill me?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “No?”

“And I’m not going to kill you. I’d say that’s enough reassurance to get at least a nap in.”

“Give me one good reason to believe you.”

“If you killed me, Ransone would blow the roof of this place with you still in it. I’m one of the best he’s got.”

“Bullshit.” You scoffed, walking around the table to go see what you could find to eat. Ransone wouldn’t do that for anyone, and he knew that.

He didn’t bother responding but you could sense him tracking your movement.

The first cabinet you opened consisted purely of jars of peanut butter, stacked together neatly. The one beside it had jelly arranged in a similar fashion, jar to jar and taking up the entire space. Adjacent cupboard had loaves of bread, probably the most you’d seen together in a house ever.

The next cupboard was... empty.

“You have got to be fuckin’ with me,” you cursed under your breath. “Is there nothing else here?”

Save for a few plates and cutlery, every other shelf was empty. Your frustration only grew with each drawer you opened and shut, finding nothing but the same three components over and over again.

“There’s some soup on the top right, behind the bread.” His voice came from behind you. You checked where he mentioned, finding multiple cans of tomato soup. “I hope PB&J is your favourite, ‘cause that’s really all we got. I checked twice.”

“We won’t be here long anyway. It’s fine.” You walked a few steps towards where the TV was, sitting atop a small cupboard. If you weren’t getting gourmet meals, hopefully it would be compensated with some entertainment.

Rummaging through it didn’t prove to be a major hassle since there were only three DVDs; Die Hard, Notting Hill and Megamind. Beside it sat two books, American Gods, and Pride and Prejudice. That’s all. 

“Really made sure to cover all demographics with those movies. There’s only one local news channel, everything else is static,” Sam informed you, unmoving from his position. You sighed, tossing the DVDs back and shutting the door.

“There’s a room over there with some basic shit. Burners, mics, cameras. Clothes are in the bedroom drawer. Should probably take a shower while you’re at it, I can smell you from a mile away and it’s giving me a migraine.” You pushed yourself off the ground, pointing towards the rooms as you walked down the hall. “Backyard’s all heavily wooded. If we try hard enough, I’m sure there are a few trap doors or crawl spaces or whatever around here.”

You could hear him follow you as you gave him the tour of a place you were sure he already had examined thoroughly before you greeted him this morning.

Pushing open the door to the suspiciously empty room, you stepped to the side, allowing him to observe. The both of you had the same thought process as you split up, sticking close to the walls, running your fingers across the plaster to look for any major differences.

“Got it,” he called out. You spun on your heel to face where he was standing. A small chunk of the wall was missing, a small button in the centre of the cavity he had created.

Pressing it lightly, the mechanical sound of sliding doors filled the air as the entire side of the room gave way to shelves upon shelves of weapons. Guns, knives, ammunition, bulletproof vests; enough material to last you years.

The doors slid shut when you pressed the button again, not until you had a mental note of what was available in case you found yourself in a situation where you required them.

“That about covers it. Don’t think we’ll be here long so just think of it as your three day long staycation.”

“I’ve had a better time at funerals than I’ll ever have in this shithole.”

________

“What do you mean they escaped?” Their voice was booming, dripping with slow rising anger. “Someone explain to me how the fuck that’s possible.”

“They took the car and left.”

“They took the car and left,” they said mockingly in a high pitch. “I know that, you fucking imbecile. I’m asking how they were alive long enough to do it?”

“They teamed up. Took out nearly everyone,” the agent was monotone. His arm was in a sling and his partner stood beside him, thick bandages around his midsection.

“They shouldn’t have been there together. They shouldn’t have been sent together.”

No one said a word, not even daring to breathe loudly.

“This wasn’t supposed to fucking happen. We killed Pierce. Everything was perfect,” their voice dropped as they spat out the last word. “So then how did this fucking happen?”

“Boss, we’ll-”

“I want them dead.” They interrupted, casting silence in the room. “I don’t care how you fucking do it. I want you to find them and rip them to shreds. Both of them.”

“Yes, boss.”

“And if you even fucking think of coming back without a proper update-” they brought their hand down harshly on the table. “-I’ll make you wish you were never born.”

The agents just nodded, faces pale as they shuffled out of the room silently.

“Fucking idiots.” They nursed their forehead on their palm, calming the nerve that was menacingly visible on their temple. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Part 3

[ginanosakka]

I’m Sorry

Masterlist

I Hate It Here | Next

“How did you guys figure it out?” You sighed, dropping onto the bed and tossing your phone into the mess of sheets you couldn’t be bothered to make with the little sleep you ran on.

“I figured it out,” Katsuki said with a blatant possessive tone. “I know how you react to your old man, and you’ve made it clear that the bastard has no problem trying to kill you.” He explained, and you just nodded, deciding to disregard it in your exhausted state.

“Your dad gave me some off vibes back then, but I didn’t know just how bad it was. . I’m sorry all of this keeps happening to you.” Eijirou frowned, his anger seeming to simmer into pity for you.

Katsuki glared at him, “she doesn't need your apology when you didn’t do anything.”

‘They’d never really argue. . right?’ You thought, looking back and forth between the two silently.

“You’re right, but she deserves an apology from you. Katsuki! Maybe if you’d stop acting like that you two could get somewhere before someone else gives her the life she deserves!”

‘They would.’

“Okay, can we just-“ you were cut off by Katsuki.

“You don’t understand a damn thing, stupid hair! Don’t act like you know her,” Katsuki growled and took a threatening step towards Kirishima that he mimicked without an ounce of fear.

“I know that you aren’t capable of being a real man and admitting you’re wrong,” Kirishima bit back.

When a small explosion went off in Katsuki right hand you immediately put yourself between the two with you back to Kirishima, and your arms were held out in front of you to stop Katsuki. His piercing red eyes still didn’t meet yours, and you assumed he and Kirishima were having a stare down, but neither would make a move with you between them. Whether it was because they were still heroes even when angry or something much deeper, you didn’t know and this was no time to find out.

“Kirishima. . I need you to go for now. Thank you for sticking up for me,” you addressed the redhead.

You didn’t get a response for a moment, but after a while he muttered a quiet, “okay.” You watched as Eiji moved to leave the room with a final glance at you, and the moment he was out of the room you took a step away from Bakugou.

“I can’t keep doing this with you,” you sighed once again and ran a hand over your face.

“. . . He’s right.”

You almost got whiplash from how fast your head whipped up to meet his face. Katsuki Bakugou looked absolutely guilt ridden, and you were sure your eyes had become the size of saucers looking at that expression on his face. Especially after he was just ready to blow Kirishima’s face off for saying what he did.

“I broke your heart and made you think you weren’t worth shit, I gave you a kid and left you to struggle for six years, and when you took the time to tell me and let me meet my kid, I forgot that what I made you out to be was a liar and spoiled brat when you were nothing like that. I-“

You tried to cut him off, “I’m over it-“

He glared at you, “stop fucking lying. I can see it everytime you look at me. You think about the day I told you that I was done pretending to like spending time with you. . that you were just some spoiled princess and the only reason I hung around you was because your father offered me a damn deal! I lied!”

Your world had been shattered before, on multiple occasions that left you in a near out of body experience from the sheer shock, not to mention the pain. The words that came out of his mouth made a numbness wash over your entire body, and you could only stare at his tears eyed face that was flushed with so many emotions. Was this the face that broke you all those years ago? This was why he couldn’t look you in the eyes when he brought your world to a stop? None of it made sense to you, but there was so little you knew behind the scenes of your entire childhood that came to light in bits and pieces.

“What?” Was the only word you could process, your brain just needing more information to make even one word of what he was saying seem real.

“I wasn’t supposed to care about you, I was just supposed to put up with you until you found something else you were interested in, that’s what my deal was with that bastard. I thought it was going to be easy, like babysitting sims little brat and then I’d get ahead of that damn half-and-half bastard and Deku. . but you were so determined to be around me, and I couldn’t find a single thing that was actually wrong with you!” Katsuki seethed, his hands curling up into fists at his side. “You were always there for me no matter what I said to you, and you didn’t care at all whether or not I was going to be the number one hero or just some loser. . and I hated myself because I loved you!”

“You’re lying-“ Oh, how the tables turn.

“I kissed you first. I know you remember that, and I know you remember how real that was, Y/N. You felt everything I was feeling that night.”

That stupid night.

It was just a regular night by your standards, you doing the most impossible task of entertaining Katsuki when something was plaguing his mind. You didn’t mind talking for hours to him, it made you feel useful when he would come to you with all these complicated emotions that you never experienced before. He had a bigger part in life than you, and you were just happy to ease his mind when his life wasn’t guaranteed.

“My tutor said I’m probably better at tricking him than any actual subject, and I don’t really think that’s a bad thing when I can get him to waste an hour telling me about his daughter’s first steps than teaching me math-“

“You talk too much.” Before you could retort back to him or even look at him, he had his arms around your waist and pulled you to lay down with him on your bed.

“If you wanted to cuddle, all you had to do was say something,” you smirked with a laugh.

The initiation of contact was enough for you, giving you the go ahead to grab his hand that wasn’t behind your head and gently rub it. It took months for him to be okay with you touching his hands so freely, and despite the fact that he said it was because he didn’t like touching, you knew he was scared to hurt you. It was the same way you knew he was hurting, or sad, or happy.

“You’re a little shit,” he responded with his red eyes glaring softly into yours, but you could see the small ghost of a smile threatening to show on his face.

“But I’m your little shit. I bet you if I was anything less than a little shit, you’d be bored of me. That’s why you’re always-“

Soft and warm lips pressed against yours, and you were flipped onto your back with him hovering over you. The flips your stomach was doing, the way your heart was nearly beating out of your chest, and the fog that was beginning to coat your brain left you whirling. He had never kissed you before, settling for rare hugs and gentle touches when you were alone that would kill him to speak about to anyone else. Your body was on fire, and just when you thought his lips would leave yours for good, they once again pressed against yours with fever and need that you were so unaware of before.

When his lips finally did leave yours, his face hovering just inches above yours, you could see the blush covering his cheeks that was accompanied by a cocky smirk on his face. “I said you talk too much.” He taunted before connecting the both of you once again.

You wished for nothing else but to be frozen in that moment.

“There was nothing in that deal with him that made me sleep with you. That night made me feel so stupid, because how was I suppose to love you and pretend like you weren’t being lied to and used by everyone. I knew if I were to come clean and say some stupid apology you’d accept it, you’d forgive everyone around you that didn’t deserve you. I had to lie to myself for days after that and tell myself all those horrible things about you, make myself actually believe them and do what was right.. What I thought was right- Damn it!”

He got onto his knees and you weren’t sure if your jaw was going to hit the floor first or your eyes that were nearly bulging out of your sockets. This was happening. Everything was beginning to make sense, your heart was hurting and your head was spinning, and Katsuki fucking Bakugou was on his knees in front of you. You didn’t know you were crying until your vision became so blurry you couldn’t make out Katsuki’s figure, but you could see that his head was down in shame.

“I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry, Y/N, and you should hate me. . but I’m not going to stop trying and I’m not going to sit here and let you take that bastard down alone. . and I’m not going to let someone else take my

spot without a fight.”

Katsuki blinked away the tears in his eyes as silence fell in the room, unsure of how you were reacting and if he had done the right thing by throwing his pride away. He looked up despite his fear and doubt, needing to know what was going through your head. Your eyes were closed now, the tears falling down your face at a slow pace. Your bottom lip was trembling, and he could see the smallest signs that you were shaking where you stood.

“Y/N-“ He reached out his hand to you, but in a split second his head was snapped to the left, the stinging on his cheek truly cementing what you had just done. He turned his head slowly back to you, expecting to see rage, but a goofy smile he hadn’t seen in years was on your tear stained face.

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

(A/N: My favorite chapter by far. Really, this one eats.)

Taglist (Closed) <3 : @fandomgirllover @cloudsgathering @that-bipolar-renegade-romantic @jazzylove @that-chick212 @bonbonthedragon @misssugarless @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @bakugous-bakahoe @pinkykookie17 @animexholic @arielting @samkysnks @simpforeveryone @damnirina @deneuves @tsumuuumiyaaaa @vintage-teddyxo @regalmigraine @samvmgh @iamagalaxy @officialtrashbusiness @xwackk @videogameboiwhowins @marajillana @ellasdilemma @plutoneu @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @thestarsanctuary @dewdropwifu @star-light-imagines @kritiiiii @bakugosbottombitch @the2ndl @candybabey @simply-not-the-same @sam-i-am-1025 @mes-bisous @eternallyvenus @peppytine @chaelysian @definitely-yours @oikawarc @suneaterofthebig3 @m0na-l0ver @nkb0048 @losertsukki @notyourfavorlte @caramelsquares @hikaru-mikazuki

[burnedbyshoto]

deception

“Don’t you see what he’s doing to you?! He’s hurt you way more than what’s acceptable in a sparring march! You’re bruised and hurting, and he sure as hell doesn’t seem to care that this is the state he’s left you in.”

— Or in which, Hawks manipulates how you view your boyfriend, Shouto. —

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, angst, cursing, alcohol consumption, manipulation, 18+, smut, first time sex, body worship, oral (receiving and giving), and praise

word count: 10,223

a/n: this was a commission! it was very fun to write this once I got around to it... life has just been... well you guys know because youre living it too. but I hope you enjoy this!!!!

edit: OMG AND SUPER BIG THANK YOU TO @marilla-eldriana​ FOR HELPING ME

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Being a student at Yuuei was a privilege.

Every year only two hundred and twenty students were admitted from a drawing pool reaching into the thousands. From there, only forty were admitted into the Hero Department, and finally, only three per year were granted the title of the Big Three.

“Watch out!”

You watched as Hawks crashed through the window to your left, and you looked down at him with a wide grin, what an idiot.

“I thought speed was better than power,” you mock watching as the villain the two of you had been hunting for some time now easily flicked the number two hero to the side.

“And that’s why I got you, isn’t it?” he chirped before rolling onto his feet. 

You shrug, the smile on your face telling a different story while you both stared down the villain you had corned. There was no way you were going to let him go, no, this hunt was going to end now.

“I’ll assist you,” Hawks whispered, and your stomach fluttered in anticipation.

There weren’t many times in your internship where Hawks would say that. Working with one of the fastest and swiftest Pro Heroes ever meant that you were always fighting for a spot on the table. The days of Hawks swooping over the city faster than the eye could follow were still there; in fact, most of his sidekicks were probably cleaning up the mess the two of you had left five cities behind you. 

But you were different than them, you guessed.

You were only fifteen years old when Hawks scouted you for an internship, and while you had heard the rumors of what working with the — at the time — number three hero was like, it wasn’t like that. Speed was something you had always lacked. Sure, you were faster than any past Olympian, and any ordinary citizen, but in comparison to your hero peers, you were slow. After a humiliating loss of your first Sports Festival on account of being too slow, it was an almost sweet irony that the fastest Hero took an interest in you.

But it was good. Three years you had worked with him, three years of learning how to keep up with the fastest hero by breaking your body down on multiple occasions. At first, it had been just trying to keep up with his sidekicks who cleaned up after his mess, who were extremely quick as it is. Then after figuring out how to use your power quirk to make yourself faster, something that had been helped with a fight or flight response on your own end, you were able to become faster than most Pros.

But that wasn’t anything in comparison to Hawks still, but when a sixteen-year-old girl saves your life because you overshot your ability to fight, it’s easy to incorporate said sixteen-year-old girl into your regular routine. 

The initial introduction of you into his regular routine was less than ideal, he had simply stated to follow after him and would be gone. But with time, he took to holding onto you while he flew, which meant that you needed to include glasses and ear protectors into your costume. 

With the glass crushing under the weight of your shoes, you crotched the slightest bit, looking over at Hawks with a smirk. Three years of teamwork had lead to moments like these, no need to communicate, and with a raise of an eyebrow, he nodded.

The feeling of his feathers skimming your back shot the anxiety coursing through you, and you ran out of the shattered window, Hawks hot on your heel and the villain coming straight at you.

In the long run, it didn’t mean much that you were physically stronger than Hawks could ever be, but it sure made you smile knowing that you were.

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“And that’s another point for me!” you grin watching as the police took the villain into their car, Hawks stood next to you with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What will I do? I have eighty-seven points, and that makes what? Twelve?”

“It’s not my fault you go for slow as shit villains,” you accuse, turning your nose up at him.

“Oh yeah? Should we hunt for the fa—”

“Hawks!”

The two of you froze in your quarrel, turning to a man who was towering over the two of you.

Endeavor.

“Endeavor, hi!” Hawks erupted into a wide grin, his eyes brightening while he looked up at the man he admired. 

Trying to hide your snicker, you tilted your head, and your eyes widened seeing three boys behind him.

“Hey guys!” you wave at your classmates behind Endeavor.

“Y/h/n!” Deku greeted you with a large grin and a bow.

You smiled, even more, seeing the way that Bakugou and Shouto both addressed you in their own ways. 

“How are you guys doing?”

The rather one-sided conversation between you and Deku made you laugh on many instances. It seemed that being the only work-study students had meant that they were always getting their asses beat. Not that you didn’t already know this, it was just humorous hearing it coming from Deku’s mouth.  

“Is Tokoyami-kun not with you guys?” Deku asked, looking around at last for the raven headed student who did, in fact, work with Hawks.

“Not today! A neighboring agency requested his help, so it’s just Hawks and me today!” you nodded your head at the three boys who were quite famous within Japan. 

“Are you okay? We heard about the villain; that’s why we’re here,” Shouto spoke, his eyes curious, and his head tilts.

Your face warms when you smile, nodding gratefully.

“I am,” you clasp your hands together, “Hawks got sent through a building, though.”

“Some fucking number two hero,” Bakugou scoffed, and you snickered not wanting to agree with your stupidly observant boss behind you.

“You guys look less than put together; what happened to you?” you asked, noticing the scruffs and dirt on all of their faces.

“Bakugou and Midoriya got into a fight mid-air, and I happened to be in the fire zone,” Shouto rolled his eyes. At the same time, your friends exploded into offensive and defensive arguments, respectively. “We fell into the middle of some villain fight weirdly enough.”

While you grinned at Shouto, your eyes locked completely, you knew it wouldn’t last.

“Alright, y/h/n, Endeavor says there’s a villain seven blocks ahead, and I think we can beat them there!” Hawks laughs, and you can’t say your goodbyes because his hands lift you into the air. “See you guys there!”

And you were off.

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Your limbs ached slightly when you reentered campus grounds. With your case in your right hand, there was nothing to do except trudge ahead, hoping to get to your dorm quickly. 

“You’re back.”

You blinked and saw Shouto approaching you. He was in a casual outfit, most likely having been here for some time, seeing that it was eight at night. 

“What are you doing out so late?” you ask, pushing down your skirt in hopes to look presentable even with the bandage on your chin.

“I was waiting for you,” Shouto smiles gently, his hand brushing your cheek, observing the injury on your face. “You okay?”

“It was just a scratch, nothing too crazy,” you promise, and you smile under his warm touch.

There isn’t much surprise when his lips come and press against yours, and you hum contently feeling his warm skin moving gently against yours. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” Shouto whispered, finally pulling away from you. You groaned, having not been satisfied with the simple liplock, but opened your eyes to see that he was studying your face again.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you tease, your nose scrunching with your words.

“I have so many already.”

“I know,” you smile, dragging him away, “I’m starving.”

It didn’t take long for you to get a proper dinner. With you being out for your only day off, you were pleased to see that there was a plate of food waiting for you that was left behind by your classmates. So you sat in the dining area of the dorm, eating the food while talking with Shouto.

You told him about the rest of your day, of how the two of you were close to cracking this case of serial cases of disappearing Pro Heroes who would reemerge days later without memory. The two of you had been working on it for a week now and had multiple promising leads. With the end of your career at UA coming in only five days, you were excited about the possibility of cracking this case after your graduation to help give you a good running start as a sidekick on the Hero Charts.

But before you knew it, it was already past eleven, and with classes tomorrow, it was time for you to go your separate ways.

“You don’t want me to spend the night?” he asks while you walk unconvincingly to the door of your floor, your hands grasping his. 

“You know that I do, but I can’t let that happen yet,” you pout, watching as Shouto nods in understanding. “Soon, I swear.”

“I just can’t believe my girlfriend has no self-control that I can’t even sleep in her bed without her wanting to fuck me,” Shouto sighs and while you splutter, telling him how he’s wrong, he places a goodnight kiss onto your forehead and leaves with a kind smile and a small wave.

Stupid son of a bitch.

But he wasn’t wrong.

You had morals and ethics that you had told to Shouto well before things turned serious for the two of you. Sex was something you were always nervous about, not in the sense that it was a bad thing — god forbid you’d ever slut-shame anyone — but more that you wanted it to be special.

It had to be with the right person at the right time.

Shouto was someone you knew was the right person, but as your hormonal feelings for Shouto grew and you realized one late night that you were grinding against his bucking hips, your face hot, his lips and teeth pulling at the sensitive flesh of your neck did you realize that this was so not okay. You had pushed Shouto onto the ground, his eyes dazed and confused while you began to say that you were so not ready for this step of the relationship. But it wasn’t like it was the only time you’ve blue balled your boyfriend… no, you had done it time and time again.

So much so that Shouto practically refused to be in a room alone with you now because it always ended with one of you pinned to the bed and Shouto being launched onto the floor.

With a sigh, you watched Shouto turn around, walking backward with a small wave and a grin when you blew him a kiss and flipped him off. He called you the moment he was back in his room, and although you weren’t letting him stay in your bed with you, you did fall asleep on the line with him, his steady breathing lulling your heavy eyes to sleep.

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Hawks watched while you trudged into his office, your face pulled into a pout, a bandage sitting on your cheek. 

“Morning,” you call out, exhaustion evident on your face.

“What’s up with you?” he smirks, watching you walk to his desk and slumping onto a chair, your eyes closing.

“So tired,” you murmur, your head nestling into your arms, ready to fall asleep. “I didn’t sleep much last night?”

“Why’s that?”

“Stupid boyfriend,” you mumbled.

It had been three days since you had last been in the office, with graduation preparations, Hawks couldn’t call you out as often. But that wasn’t what he was concerned about, no. Hawks froze, replaying your words in his head like a broken record. He didn’t know you had a—

“Boyfriend?”

Those words passing his lips only made you groan louder, your head nodding, “Yeah… I’m dating Endeavor's son Shouto… for about… a year now!”

Hawks' brain went into overdrive.

A year of dating, and this was the first he’s ever heard of it! He had been your mentor, your boss, for three years and never before had you even mentioned a boyfriend before. Hawks lips pressed together, a looming pit of jealousy forming in his stomach. His feathers fluttered, his arms crossing.

Hawks was used to knowing everything, to being able to get what he wanted most, and he was planning on asking you out when you graduated. He had sworn his feelings had been returned; after all, who couldn’t find themselves falling for the young and hot number two hero?

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah! I can have him steal you a pair of Endeavors underwear if you want, I know you’d like that!”

Hawks looks down at your teasing face, his nose scrunching in mock disgust, “Please, I don’t need a baby stealing Endeavors underwear for me. I can get them myself!”

Your smile is warm, and Hawks watches while you pull out your phone, quickly texting something.

“What? Telling your boyfriend you made it safe and sound?”

“Actually… yeah…” you mumble while finishing up your text.

Now Hawks wasn’t evil, he knew that; he also wasn’t used to losing, because that wasn’t him. But there was something odd about the way his stomach twisted and his feathers raised at that confirmation, and the words poured from his mouth without him ever having the chance to stop them.

“Does he make you text him?”

You nod, a grateful smile on your face when you drop your phone. “Isn’t it sweet? I think it’s… why are you making that face?”

“What face?” Hawks fluttered his eyes, mock innocence for the first time not sitting correctly on his face.

“That one, Hawks!” you laughed, throwing your case at him. “The one that looks like when I stole your chicken leftovers.”

Hawks snorted, and he shook his head, deciding to walk out of his office to begin his daily routine; after all, these morning conversations were apart of said routine.

“I don’t know... He knows you’re strong and that you’re here with me, and yet he doesn’t trust that you’ll get here? Or is it in a controlling sense?”

“W-What?”

Hawks turned around and looked at you, your eyebrows scrunched, eyes looking down at your phone.

But when your eyes rose to meet his, Hawks simply smiled, his head shaking.

“Never mind!”

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It didn’t stop there. No Hawks had officially lost his brains with how he was approaching this. Everything out of his mouth concerning your boyfriend was bitter, foul, and implementing lies in your mind. A desperate attempt to get you to feel like Shouto wasn’t good enough that he was manipulating you and Hawks watched while you carefully danced to his tune, your frown deepening with every sweet lie that rolled off his lips.

“I’m hanging out with him and his siblings tonight!” you announced after the day at work was done.

Your smile was bright once more, a day on the field improving your mood. Hawks nodded his head, remembering how the Todoroki siblings were good people, and how you also had siblings.

“His siblings too?”

“Yup!” you nod. “I’ve gotten to know his siblings really well! They’re really great! We go over so often, and I like to believe that I’m close with his family now!”

“Oh, that’s sweet!” Hawks smiles, his head tilting to the side. Faux innocence. “How about your family? Is Todoroki close with your family?”

Your jaw opens, and your head drops, your head guilty shaking no. “It’s a bit harder for that to happen, and he met them once and well… it didn’t go too well.”

Hawks eyes widen, his hand rubbing the back of his head with a heavy sigh, “Ah, I see… don’t you think that’s weird?”

“Um… no, not really?”

“Well, as an outsider, and your friend, Imma have to tell you that it’s weird. It sounds like he doesn't like your family? He’s not trying to control you, is he? Not trying to isolate you from them, right?”

Your teeth dig into your lower lip, and Hawks watches with over bubbling joy at the doubt and realization growing on your face. He was hitting the right nerves.

“I-It’s okay!” you chirp, your feet dragging against the floor while you move to leave. “It's probably not that!”

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“Another movie outing with his friends?”

“We’re watching the newest All Might documentary, it’s not like it's a banger!”

“Todoroki just never seems to care to include your friends or do things with your friends. It seems like he’s trying to keep you confide in his friend group.”

“My friends haven’t… they haven’t said anything?”

“Who would? You’re dating the most powerful son of the number one hero, no one would dare to speak up against him, especially if he told them to stay away from you.”

“That doesn’t sound like Shouto…”

“I mean, Todoroki is jealous of the way that your family loves you, and that’s why you’re always with his family. I don’t see any reason why he wouldn’t keep you from your friends too?”

“Oh…”

“You don’t have to believe me, of course! I’m sure he’s a great kid, after all, he did choose you to be his girlfriend.”

You scoff, shoving Hawks with your shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Nah, you’re amazing, y/n, and you should know it.”

“Mkay, pigeon, egg off.”

“Oof, I’m so scared!”

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Your world spun, and you crashed onto your back with a low groan, jolts of nervous energy coursing through your nerves while you remained pinned to the floor. Hawks stared at you from above, his jacket long since discarded, and his hands grasping your wrists while he straddled you.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve been able to pin you since you were sixteen!” Hawks laughed, but he immediately took notice in the way you were grimacing.

You didn’t do that often, but you weren’t done yet. Shifting your weight up and over, quickly, you managed to pin Hawks to the ground, his head bouncing against the matted floor with a groan of dismay on his skin. Your nose was brushing against his, his warm breath expelling gently against your face. No! You pulled away suddenly, your heart in your throat at the nearly intimate contact. But it was too much movement on your own end because your body screamed at you.

Your breathing was shallow, a feeble attempt to calm the pulsating pain that traveled through your nerves.

“What is it?”

“I was sparring Shouto last night,” you mutter, feeling Hawks’ fingers immediately searching your skin for injuries. “You know how he sucks at close range combat, but he must’ve been practicing with Bakugou and Deku because he’s never been able to land hits like that…”

With your jacket pooling from your shoulder, Hawks fingers traced over the bruises that colored your skin. Ugly purple, green, and yellow all over. You hissed when he applied pressure to one, and you flinched, getting off of him.

“Are you sure this was sparring and him not beating you?!”

“I would know the difference between sparring and an ass beating,” you groaned, your eyebrow scrunching while he took you in more. “Besides, you should see how he is. I still won!”

“Don’t you see what he’s doing to you?! He’s hurt you way more than what’s acceptable in a sparring march! You’re bruised and hurting, and he sure as hell doesn’t seem to care that this is the state he’s left you in.”

You were silent Hawks words ringing heavy in your ears.

Did Shouto… was this a sign that he wasn’t who you thought he was?

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“Shouto?” you whispered, your knuckles rapping at the door, hopeful he was in his room. “Are you in?”

You heard the sound of footsteps against the floor and watched the door open. There Shouto stood, wearing black sweatpants and a white tank he leaned against the door. Your eyes caught sight of the black bruises against his skin courteous of your sparring last night.

“Y/n?” he expresses with a pleasant surprise. Shouto’s hand reaches for yours, but you flinch away, stopping him in his tracks. “Are you okay?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, your head nodding, “Sorry, long day, and um, I’m still sore from yesterday…”

“Yesterday? Ohh~ what happened yesterday?” You watched with the smallest amount of amusement when Sero revealed himself, his arm thrown around Shouto’s shoulder with a stack of manga in his hands. 

“We spared, why?” Shouto asked with that perfect density that Sero stammered, unable to recover from Shouto’s lack of an appropriate response.

“Boring, anyways, I’ll bring these back soon, I promise!”

You and Shouto bid Sero goodnight, and with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Shouto looked back down at you.

“Care to come in?”

“I would.”

You sat on Shouto tatami, your knees bent with your arms wrapped around them while he rummaged around.

“Here, I made some healing ointment for the bruises,” Shouto said, placing the white container on your knees while he sat in front of you. “I know that even though you won, my kicks probably hurt like a bitch.”

“The biggest bitch,” you agreed, watching while he unscrewed the ointment and began to delicately place the salve on your skin. It immediately cooled down the warm skin, and you studied his face while he did so. His touch was gentle, almost too soft for someone as battle-ready as himself. But he was on a mission to make you feel better, and for every bruise he covered, he apologized.

Soon enough, every bruise was covered, and you didn’t even realize you were crying until Shouto’s eyes widened when he noticed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you not trust me?” you ask, the days worth of anxiety that Hawks had been instilling into you, finally pouring from your lips.

“What?!”

“It’s just… with the texting you where I am, and who I’m with even when you know before I leave! A-And how about my family? I always go with your family, but the one time you met mine, it was disastrous! And then you never w-want to hang out with my friends! And you were so hard on me during sparring last night… Did you want to hurt me?! Why are you trying to isolate me?! Are you trying to control me?! You’re a powerful person Shouto a-and with your dad being the most powerful person I just… are you forcing people away from me?!” Tears poured from your eyes, your sleeves rubbing away the tears on your face, the ointment gathering on the fabric,

Shouto instantly reached out to you, but you shifted away from him, your face burning with embarrassment from your outburst. You wanted Hawks to be wrong, Shouto was good. He was an idiot, but he was a good boyfriend. Please prove him wrong, you thought. Please.

“Is that how you feel?” Shouto asked, his voice quiet but steady. His hand was pressed against the duvet, centimeters from your side. Not touching you, but giving you the ability to reach him when you were ready. “I just… I’ve never done this before, you know that. Y/l/n y/n, you are someone that I am way too lucky to have in my life. I asked what are boyfriend appropriate things to do from my classmates, and I guess I might have been overdoing it myself. I ask for a text because I want to make sure you get places okay. I know you’re powerful and can take on anyone, but it’s because you’re powerful; it makes you a target to villains. I honestly thought you liked my siblings a lot, so I wanted to keep you with them because if they’re your friends, you deserve to see them. I am sorry about your family, but they are assholes, and you know that. 

“But if you want to go visit and hang out with them more — with or without me — I would never stop you! I know I can’t keep blaming myself for being new to all of this a year into our relationship, but I didn’t know it was appropriate to invite your friends to hang out with us when we were with my friends. I thought they wouldn’t want to hang out with us guys. I also know you enjoy your alone time, and you tend to spend alone time with your friends, and I never want to intrude. I am so sorry for making you feel this way.”

“No,” you sniffle, your tears turning from one of sadness to those of guilt. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is,” he whispers, his fingers brushing against yours ever so gently. “It’s my fault you felt like I was isolating you, controlling you. You don’t have to forgive me, but if you’re willing to give me a chance to prove myself that I can change, I’d like that.”

There wasn’t stopping the way that you threw yourself into his arms, your tears soaking his neck, and he pressed gentle after gentle kiss against your temple until you were no longer crying.

For the first time in your relationship, you spent the night, and against what you had previously thought, the two of you did nothing more than embrace in a wet lip-lock.

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Graduation finally came around, and to say the least, you were excited.

Finally, you were now a Pro Hero — well, really a sidekick, but that didn’t matter! The entire day you spent it on campus, watching the graduation ceremony take place with your classmates at your side. Tears were shed, photos were taken, and the end of your high school career came to a close. 

Due to your accomplishment, something that wasn’t at all doubted in the first place, Hawks had thrown Tokoyami and you a large party in celebration. You were, after all, the first students to have gone through his agency for all three years of high school, and he deemed that celebratory worthy. 

With such an occasion and countless years ahead of you to be on your top tier game, it was to no surprise that you were letting loose at this party. And yes, by letting loose, you meant being drunk.

Me: shoutoooo baby i loe you oh so much

Shouto: I love you too, make sure you get water to drink and don’t have an empty stomach.

Me: i had dinnerr with you remeber !!!! no empty stomach here!!!!!

Me: im sorry for crying that night that was so dumb of me to being insecure about

Shouto: you should still be eating more if you’re planning on drinking more. And it’s okay, it’s equally my fault as it is yours.

You stared at the text, your vision slightly blurry while you imagined just what you would do with Shouto soon. You bit your lip with a grin, but with a sudden loss of balance, you stumbled back into someone.

“Oops, sorry!” you yelled louder than you expected, turning around to greet whoever you had run into. You saw a familiar face with a bird head standing there with his arms outreached to balance your stumbling form. “Tokoyami-kun! I didn’t know you were still here!!! I would’ve taken a shot with you! Oh my god, I LOVE your jacket! Where did you get it!”

Tokoyami smiled, his head nodding, “I happened to have it lying around, although I can’t remember where I cross paths with it, to begin with. And I couldn’t forsake you by leaving before you were ready. It’ll be pleasant to have you around all the time with Hawks starting in a few days.”

You nodded your head, your hands stretching out in an attempt to respond animatedly, but yelped when you slapped someone instead.

“OH, NO! Did I hurt you?! I’m so sorry!” you exclaim, turning to the second person you had hit in a matter of minutes.

It was Hawks.

“It seems she is quite inebriated,” Tokoyami pointed out, and you nodded in agreement. 

“I am!”

Hawks chuckled, his head shaking, “Imma take her back to my place then, she’s a disaster in the making if we let her stay here.”

There wasn’t room for debate because you were suddenly in his arms and waving goodbye to Tokoyami, your sense of judgment gone.

“Take me hoooomeeee,” you sang into Hawks's ear when he soared into the night sky, and much to your amusement, Hawks continued your song.

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Shouto sat in the common room, his eyes shifting to check his phone every so often. He knew you were drunk, that had been very clear the moment you called him only twenty times pretending to not be you while slurring your sentences. Nothing was stopping the uneasy feeling in his chest after you had explained yourself and your feelings that one night, he had put together that Hawks liked you. But without definite proof, he didn’t want to claim such things.

And while he had no doubts about your ability to protect and defend yourself, there was no saying if that was true if you weren’t sober. Hell, he’s fought you sleepy once, and there was a significant difference between you being alert and you being exhausted. 

Regardless, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he heard something back from you, and with his classmates currently celebrating the end of the year by playing video games, he was there alongside them.

“I’ve returned,” Tokoyami called from the entrance, and Shouto turned around to see the bird head man walking to approach the gathering of the few remaining classmates in front of the common room's TV. He said his greetings before coming to rest by Shouto’s side. “The party was a bit too loud, but I think you would have enjoyed entertaining it.”

“It’s your guys night,” Shouto shrugged his shoulders, “I didn’t need to be there when it was her work friends. How is she doing?”

“Ah, well you see,” Tokoyami nodded his head, his fingers raking through his black hair, “She was quite drunk, so Hawks-san took her back to his place to sober up, most likely spend the night at his place — Todoroki?!”

Shouto had no idea why bitter fire raged in his chest; all he knew is that for the first time ever while he slipped on his shoes and his jacket, he pulled up a contact he didn’t expect he would be using so casually.

“Shouto?!”

“Do you know where Hawks lives, Endeavor?”

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“Are you feeling better?” Hawks asks you, taking the bottle of water from your hands.

The low sparks of the alcohol that had once been coursing through your body had simmered into slow pulses. You knew you weren’t one hundred percent sober, but you were sober enough to realize that you should have asked Hawks to take you to the dorms instead. 

“If you’re asking if I’m no longer sloppy… you’re in luck,” you sigh, a tired grin spreading on your face while you reach for your phone. You frown, seeing that it was dead, but it didn’t matter much; you would get home without it being alive anyways. “Thanks for sobering me up; I think you could have done it back at the party, though.”

Hawks snorted, his head tilting up, his head in thought. “I definitely could have done that, but I didn’t want you taking shots in secret while trying to sober you up.”

“I’m sure you could handle me just fine.”

“The last thing I can remember is that you are physically stronger than me and if you’re drunk… well, I was scared you’d kill me by accident.”

“Haha,” you laugh sarcastically, your eyes rolling in your amusement. 

Silence overtook you both, and your gaze fell to your hands. You wanted to ask him why he was so insistent on Shouto being toxic, and how he did a 180 the second you told him about how the two of you talked things through.

“Did you want me and Shouto to break up?” you ask quietly, unsure of what you wanted him to answer. “I keep thinking of everything, and that’s the only thing that makes sense to me and all the controlling business…”

Hawks stared at you, his eyes void of all emotion, and yet you felt like he was more open to you than he had even been before. His mouth moved to answer, but there was a knock at his door.

With a heavy sigh, Hawks rose to his feet, “I don’t think I should answer your question.”

So there you sat, his once comfortable couch feeling stiff and hard.

“Y/l/n?” Shouto’s voice rang through the apartment, and your eyes widened. You got up off the couch, your head pounding just slightly while you clamored to the front door. There you saw Shouto staring down at Hawks, how funny it was that your eighteen-year-old boyfriend was taller than a twenty-seven years old Pro Hero.

“Tokoyami told me you were here, and I wouldn’t want to bother a busy hero with taking care of my girlfriend when I can do that myself,” Shouto spoke, his eyes narrowing down onto Hawks as the words my girlfriend let his tongue. But it also sent a shiver down your spine, a coursing ember that had been ignored this night, reigniting it once more. 

You were ready, you realized when his blue and grey eyes found yours. 

“Thanks for tonight, Hawks,” you wheeze, grabbing your shoes at the door and quickly pulling them on. “I’ll see you in the office in two days!”

With nothing more to say, you grabbed Shouto by his wrist and pulled him away.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

The campus was quiet when you arrived, the day of excitement having long since simmered down as the clocks read two in the morning. This would be your last night in your dorm, most of your classmates had chosen to move out today as well, but with no one to help you out while you were at the party, you decided to stay one more night. But with the way your blood was pumping, and how you could feel the jealousy coursing through Shouto’s veins, you wanted to get back to your room as quickly as possible.

Entering the dorm building that was made for your class, you felt Shouto pulling his hand from yours, obviously ready to begin his goodnight routine.

Shouto’s hands grasped your cheeks, fingers hot against your cold skin, and his eyes staring down at you. Millions of emotions coursed through his gaze, but you were focused on the one that spoke of his love for you. His lips pressed down against yours, and you met him in full earnest. His lips pulling against yours, sending fire through your body, sensations that sparked only the familiar excitement you had always denied in the past. You could practically taste his unspoken anger and jealousy on his tongue, and it only made you crave more from him.

You were ready.

“Goodnight,” Shouto whispers against your lips softly, and you laugh. Your hands move up to cup his cheeks, and he pulls you in closer, his hands firmly placed onto your lower back. “I’ll come to your room in the morning to help you pack up.”

“Stay the night,” you say softly, your teeth tugging at your lower lip that was warm from his efforts. “I’m ready.”

Shouto’s eyes widened, his eyebrow lifting slightly, “You want to fuck?”

“Don’t say it like that!” you groan, pinching his cheeks in your embarrassment. But his eyes were bright, and the next thing you knew, you were being lifted into the air, and your legs found their place around his waist. “You sap!”

“Prude.”

“Say that one again, I’m finally going to let you smash, whor—”

He shut you up with a kiss.

It’s a slow kiss, one that warmed you up effortlessly, intimate contact pressing between the two of you, but nervous energy chipping through you fully. Your head tilts to the side, the kiss deepening, and your arms pulling him in closer. The two of you pull away slowly, both of your eyes slowly opening to look at each other in a whole new light and a fire under your skin, and something is silent between the two of you. Growing silently, steadily, and coming crashing down all at once.

“I love you…” Shouto murmurs, and that’s all it takes. The movements are desperate now, his steps quick and steady while your mouth clashes against his. Deep, ardent, fulfilling. You can’t help the nervously aggressive make out, tongues pushing against each out, drawing out noises you weren’t quite used to hearing. Low groans and pants you had known, but never in this context, and you were addicted. But Shouto must be thinking the same thing, for when you finally make it to your dorm room’s door, his mouth trails from your mouth. Sloppy and burning hot kisses trail down your cheek, to your jaw, before pressing searingly against your neck, and you mewl at the feel of his warm lips on your neck. Your eyes fluttering closed when his lips left hot and wet kisses on your sensitive skin.

Your lips met again, and this time you wrapped your arms slowly around his neck, and you pull him impossibly closer. His hands are moving vehemently up and down your back, making you shiver and arch against his traveling fingers. But when his nails glide delicately against an exposed piece of skin on you back, you gasped into his mouth, and the door opened loudly against his need to get to your bed.

A soft giggle leaves your lips when darkness falls against your closed eyes, and your hips shift in your state of need. Only that you weren’t expecting to feel him tremble under your actions or the pleasurable hiss that passed to your lips. your eyes opening to see Shouto’s eyes still closed despite the fact he was walking with you. 

“I love you so much,” you whisper into his ear when you pull away from the kiss. Your fingers raking through his hair, your teeth nibbling onto his earlobe, his throaty groan a sign of victory. “Thank you for being wonderful.”

Shouto’s lips are back on yours, greedily seeking more contact, and you don’t hold back as you kiss him back with equal fervor. You feel the mattress of your bed hit your back as you continue to kiss him, sitting up so you could crawl back to let Shouto onto the bed with you. You smile once again as Shouto’s hand rests on the bed frame behind you, while the other one rests on the small of your back, keeping your torsos pressed together.

Your hands are fisted into Shouto’s hair, the small tugs from your hand blazing his own blood, making him press his growing length against your thighs, and his tongue grazes your bottom lip. You moan softly, your head tilting up, and you open up your mouth so that your tongues meet halfway. You start moving to unbutton your graduation outfit, and Shouto hastily pulls away, and your eyes open, his mouth is stained with your the leftovers of your makeup, and he looks concerned. 

“Are you sure, y/n?” Shouto asks, his hands stroking your side. His gaze is intense, unmoving, and challenging. “If you’re not ready for this, I won’t be hurt.”

You stared at him, a soft smile coming to your lips as you sit up, making Shouto sit on his haunches while you move to your knees, “I always knew I wanted my first time to be with you, I just wanted the moment to be perfect… and this is perfect to me,” you confess to Shouto, and you watch his eyes soften when you press a soft kiss to his lips.

Pulling away, you stripped of your clothes and dropped it on the floor next to the bed, your breath hitching as Shouto stares at your now only lingerie-clad body, and you blush. 

“Shit, you’re beautiful,” Shouto murmurs like a man who had seen something divine for the first time ever.

Your heart roars in your chest, your blood pulsating through your sensitive body while he leans in close. His mouth presses against the swell of your breasts, trailing down to the valley between your mounds. Your body quivers in your overwhelming emotions and sensations. Shouto presses you back onto the mattress, his calloused hands pressing right below your breasts, heating emitting in large waves from both hands, making your mind spin in needy desperation.

“Are you okay?” Shouto murmurs, his lips feeling the gentle movements of your body.

“I am,” you breathe, your eyes shut tightly. You wanted to feel his lips and forget everything else in the world. This was a night of passion, and you’d be damned if your anticipation was going to stop you. “Don’t stop.”

A low chuckle vibrated against his throat, sending gentle waves through you, and you moaned the second his fingers pressed against your breasts. Shouto’s hands worked your breasts tentatively, his eyes studying your flushed face while he kneaded the tender flesh.

“F-Fuck,” you moaned when his finger brushed against your erect and clothed nipple, your hips quivering underneath him.

“Did that feel good?” Shouto hums, and when you confirm his thoughts, coldness hits your chest. Your eyes open to see that he’s discarded your bra and that his lips are millimeters from your breasts. “Do you want me to do more to you?”

The words are curious, but you don’t miss the glint in his eye, but he’s long since knocked the air from your lungs.

“I need to hear your words, princess,” Shouto smiles softly, his warm breath fanning against your erect nipples that cried for attention. “What do you say?”

“P-Please…” you breathe, your body squirming in your denied attention.

“Perfect.”

The feeling of his hot and wet mouth encasing your nipple sent you impossibly over the moon, your body arching off the bed, a lament cry heavy on your mouth while his tongue circled and flicked your nipple. His eyes were on you, you could feel his stare burning into your body, but you couldn’t even see, your eyes closed in your throbbing pleasure.

More, you wanted more.

His finger pinched your free nipple, pulling and rolling the pert skin between his fingers, your wanton cries only fueling him further. Liquid heat coursed through your veins, your pleasurable sensations overwhelming you, and your hips began to hump against his clothed thigh. The friction of his jeans against your barely clothed cunt sending you well beyond the confinements of pleasure.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “I love you,” he confesses. “You’re gorgeous,” he repeats.

Tender and sweet words fill your ears while he switches where his mouth and hands are. The kneading of your breasts, the manipulation of your nipples, and the way his thigh pressed against your throbbing cunt was sending you over.

Your breathing was unsteady, puffs escaping your lips in an overwhelming and failed attempt to calm yourself down. Shouto was on a mission, however, and his mouth removed from your cool breast with a soft pop, your breasts shining with the coats of saliva, and you shivered.

Shout hummed while he lips pressed the sensitive underside of your breasts, and continued downward, gentle after gentle kiss down your torso, until he made contact with your trembling inner thigh. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his fingers toying with the band of your panties. You can barely hear him over the roar of your heart, but you know what he says, and you nod. He smiles kindly, placing one final kiss to your thigh before pulling off your panties. 

Instinctively, your legs try to close, nerves firing away, but Shouto keeps your legs wide open, and his mouth lowers towards your dripping cunt. His tongue takes a languid and slow lick. His tongue slipping between your slit and you arch off the mattress. Your eyes fluttering in their battle to stay open, the addicting sensation of his hot tongue against your equally hot core burning you.

Your legs tremble as he thrusts his tongue within your clenching wet walls, swirling in circles and pushing further in. His fingers thrust into you at an amble speed, aiding to your pleasure sent descent on the mattress. On one lick, one godly irresistibly mind-numbing lick, your thighs come crashing against his head. Shouto’s free hand moves to grip onto your trembling legs. His tongue coaxing your orgasm closer to the edge by speaking a language you knew nothing of.

“S-Shouto!” you curse, your hips rolling desperately against his mouth. Your hips were stammering against his compelling tongue.

Your eyes struggle to remain locked on his eyes, your body twitching with the building pleasure. The electricity igniting in your flesh and bloodstream. You can hear the sounds of your squelching pussy against his moving fingers, and your jaw drops. You’re under his absolute control, and you’re no longer able to hold back anymore, your orgasm is right on edge, but you stop him.

“Wait!” you push him off of you, your chest heaving, and the wet arousal pouring from your cunt was slick against his mouth, and confusion evident on his face. “I don’t want to… I want to cum on your cock.”

“Okay,” Shouto pants with amusement, and you watched when his fingers — which were coated in your essence — slipped into his mouth, sucking it clean. The image of that sent electrifying pleasure through you, and your mouth watered at the thought of sucking him off. “What is it?”

“Get up,” you command, your hands moving to remove the belt around his waist, and he was quick to stand on your bed, and you were on your knees. Your knees buck under your weight, and you help Shouto remove his pants. You watch in an almost lusting virgin horror when his cock springs out from under his underwear. The hard cock slaps against his lower stomach, and you take in the way that his cock is thick, with bulging veins, and precum leaking from his head.

There was no going back, it seemed.

Steeling yourself over, you wait for his feet to be free, and the moment he’s out of his jeans, your hands immediately encompass his length. His girth wide enough you struggled to hold it with one hand. You marveled at the way the skin was unearthly warm and impossibly hard in your grip. This is what was going to be buried in your cunt in moments time?

“Y-Y/n…” Shouto stutters as your hand fists up and down his length in initial unknowing movement. Your eyes snapping up to meet his lust covered ones.

“Now,” you sigh as your thumb rolls over the pre-cum that slips from the tip of his head. “You can’t make fun of me if I’m bad, okay?”

Shouto licks his lips, his eyebrow quirking. “I don’t think that’s possible from you, princess.”

You smile softly, but there’s a strong sense of hope when you notice the tremble in his legs, “We’ll see!”

Licking your lips, your mouth opens, and you let the head of his cock press pass your lips. The dark pink head is hot in your mouth, and your tongue presses against the flat of his head, swirling your tongue around, testing his reaction. By the fluttering of his eyes, and the way that his hands seem to fight whether they should latch onto your hair, you reckon it’s okay. 

So, you push on ahead, moving further down his impressive cock. His girth so full you had to open wider than you were used to. You gasp as you push him further down your throat. Your eyes flashing up to see Shouto struggling to keep his head down and eyes on you. 

Good god, you pray you were wet enough to take him in without lube.

Your mouth sinks down as far as you can go while not choking yourself. Your fingers trailing up and down his toned thighs as you move your head up and down his length. You’re now in a smooth rhythm, bobbing up and down on his cock with enough vigor to make Shouto praise your name.

Your movements signal to Shouto that he can move as well. Shouto groans, and his hips move forward. You relax against his rocking hips, you’re focused on your breathing as his cock moves up and down your throat. Deeper and deeper, you feel his cock move within you. His hand pressing against the back of your neck, and you gag softly against his length.

Your eyes look back up to see Shouto’s eyes closed. Moans and pants spilling out with every thrust, and your cheeks hollow out. Creating a vacuum sensation against his length.

“Oh shit!” Shouto snaps. His hands tangling within your locks as he struggles to not overwhelm you. “You’re amazing, of course, you would be good at this,” he gasps as his cock only goes further down your throat.

You struggle to breathe with his thrusting. His snapping hips overwhelming you with their speed and depth. He’s distracted while he fucks your throat, but you’re even more desperate to keep up. Uncaring about the burning sensation erupting through your airway as he continues at his strength and speed. Your tongue swirls around his thrusting cock. Trailing against his veins as his hips stutter, and your teeth dragging against the sensitive skin.

You moan against his length. The action allowing you to gain more air and sending a loud moan from Shouto’s mouth as his pace increases.

His hips abuse your throat, and you’re delighted in the fact that you’re keeping up. The soft gags that occasionally slip from your mouth, stirring him on. He’s sinful yet heavenly in your mouth, and you want him in your dripping cunt. Your thighs shaking with the mere thought of him having his way with you.

He pulls his length away from your mouth. Your saliva stringing between your mouth and his still erect cock. You cough as you try taking in the air again, the lack of oxygen had been ignored as your pleasure was so high.

“N-Not yet,” Shouto staggers, and you nod in agreement, watching him sink back to the bed.

“Take it off,” you mutter tugging at the hem of Shouto’s t-shirt, and he moves to take it off.

With your teeth tearing into your lower lip, you watch him remove the dark shirt. Shouto’s body had to be a sin while you stared at the rippling muscles on his body, something you had never truly appreciated before. They moved with his body, the faint scars littering his body for you to kiss and count later. 

Tone and lithe. He was beautiful.

Shouto’s lips are back on yours as you kiss deeply, your head tilted to the side as his fingers gently grasp your chin. A shaky moan leaves your mouth at the taste of yourself on his lips and tongue, and Shouto moves his body so that you’re now on your back. The tips of your aroused nipples brush up against Shouto’s naked chest, and both of your release a throaty gasp as you pull him closer to you.

Your bodies were overshot with denied pleasure, and the mountaining need for more was finally being addressed.

Your leg hooks lazily around Shouto’s waist, and a sigh leaves your lips as Shouto gently grasps the back of your leg, running steady, consistent strokes from the end of your thigh to your ass.

A fire is building up in your gut as your hands work their way down to the buttons and zipper of his pants. His hands gripping your waist, and you could feel Shouto’s arousal pressing against your stomach, hot and throbbing with need. You pulled away from Shouto and giggled as he attempted to follow you with closed eyes as you had to brush your hair out of your face, suddenly feeling hot.

“Y/n…” Shouto just about whined, and you smiled softly at him, finding it endearing and the slightest bit hot when he used that tone. 

His hands were on your breasts, slowly stimulating your aroused nipples as he slowly massaged them, making sure to brush your nipple with his thumb every so often, and your head tossed back as you bite down hard on your lower lip. He once again kissed you ever so lovingly, and you felt him pulling away to line his cock with your entrance. You watch with hooded eyes as Shouto presses the head into you, teasing the both of you to extreme lengths, and you wantonly sighed. 

You rest on your elbows, a smile on your face as Shouto moves his messy hair out of his eyes. As you stare at his slightly sweaty face covered by strands of different colored hair, your heart just about bursts.

“Make love to me, Shouto,” you say aloud as Shouto stares at you, his cock removing from your entrance and carted against your clit.

“I plan on it,” he smiles, and he grabs your ankle, pulling you closer to him, and you shriek with laughter until his lips engulf your sounds. “Are you ready?” Shouto asks once more, teasing your entrance with the tip of his dick.

“Whenever you are,” you whisper into his neck, preparing for the initial pain.

You let out a cry of pleasure and pain as he slowly enters you, and you pant heavily, trying to contain your tears as he manages to push all the way in. Your eyes clench as you bit your lip, your head buried into his neck.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry as he stretches you out. Shouto is panting too at the feeling of your tight walls clenching against him, they’re unable to relax against his cock. It’s not until the head of his cock hits the wall of your cervix does he stop, and even then he’s not entirely in you.

Your breathing is harsh, and you feel like you’re sweating as you look down at the now joined body. The feeling of him entirely in you makes your head spin, the pressure in your lower belly could be from just Shouto within you or from your slowly growing orgasm, you had no idea.

“Are you o-okay?” Shouto stutters very clearly still adjusting to having his cock in you.

“Yeah, just… trying not to die,” you manage to croak out, and eventually, you collapse onto the bed, looking up at Shouto, who seems to be concentrating hard.

“You’re just super t-tight,” Shouto gasps as you wrap a leg around his waist.

It’s a good move, but it’s too quick as a sharp pleasure pained fire shoots through you as you slam your forehead against his shoulder.

“Too fast,” you snap in regret you try to calm your head. This was too much for you, you felt like every nerve was firing all at once on your inner wall, and no orgasm had reached you yet.

“It’s okay… breathe...”

It takes a few moments, but sure enough, you manage to raise your leg to his waist, and both of you moan at the new level of penetration and the way it made your walls clench around him. “Move,” you command, and Shouto falls onto his forearms as he nods.

Shouto moves his hips back, and slowly almost painfully slow, returns them to the original position, and even with the smallest movement, a lewd moan escapes your lips. Shouto continues going in and out, his hips slowly moving while you start to meet him with every thrust.

Whispers of encouragement escape both your lips as his slow thrusting continues.

Shouto picks up your legs so that they’re both wrapped around his waist, and he comes to lean over you. At the new angle, your head is thrown backward, and you let out a string of soft curses. “Shit, that feels so good,” you cry out in encouragement as you bit down on your lip harshly.

Your lips are soon sought after by Shouto’s as sheen layers of sweat cover both your bodies as the consistent moving of both your hips never falters.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit, you feel so good,” Shouto grunts, his hips picking up in speed as he drills into you faster, the sound of your meeting sweaty bodies echoing in your room.

Soon you can hear the sounds of your bed hitting the wall, and a cry escapes your lips as Shouto’s finger grazes your clit.

“Say my name…” Shouto grunts as he presses harder on your clit, and you can feel the coil within you getting tighter, but at the moment, all you can give is wordless cries. “Say it, y/n.”

“S-Shouto!” you scream out as you shake with an overwhelming need to climax, but Shouto’s finger leaves your clit and goes to keep your hands above your head.

“Are you enjoying this?” Shouto teases as he slams into you at full force again, your cunt tightening sinfully against his length, electricity coursing through your veins while you cry his name. “You’re so good, shit.”

“Oh my god, yes, Shouto!” your voice splutters, and his hands leave your wrist to gently pinch your nipple and clit. You go speechless, and your mind spins as he pulls one of your legs onto his shoulder, and all you can do is let your jaw drop as the new position lets you see stars.

You couldn’t take the feeling of how his body moved entirely within you, the strength and power behind his every move were almost too natural as if this was an everyday thing. You let out noises similar to a purr, grinding your cunt against his conquesting cock and laughing breathlessly at his low groan.

“You like this, princess?” Shouto nips at your throat, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails digging into his flesh at the back of his neck. You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, your pants tumbling from your mouth. He wasn’t going too fast, just fast enough to have wet smacks echoing through the room, but every thrust seemed to have his cock being pulled out of you nearly completely. He pulled out entirely so he would have the ability to drill back into your wet cunt. The noises of your connecting wet sex left loud echo with your squelching pussy around his hot cock.

The muscles on his back seemed to flare dramatically, your screams turning silent due to your approval of this.

“I needa cum,” you shriek, the fire in your face as bright and hot as the one between your legs. His sweaty forehead pressed against yours, and his lips recapture yours.

Your mind goes blank when a mighty crash goes through you. But Shouto must not have felt the spastic vice-like clamping of your inner walls as he continues pistoling his hips into you, hitting your cervix, and pushing it further up with every slam. You cry against his mouth, your hands shoving at his shoulders as the feeling of your orgasm was too strong to deny, and he slips out of you.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he moans, his mouth connecting with your breast, and once again slams into you.

Your scream is silent, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your fingers digging into his neck, and your toes curl. His hips are driving, persistent, and have a goal in mind. You can barely keep up with him, your long overstimulated body wanting to collapse at the seams, but he doesn’t stop.

The bed creaks loudly under you, headboard crashing into the wall, over and over again.

“Cum, baby,” you beg, your hips wildly thrashing against his. “Cum..”

That’s all it takes, and a hot and heavy load shoots through you, and Shouto collapses onto you at the same time the bed falls. Neither one of you reacts as gravity shifts you both slightly downwards, but your mind is too full of Shouto to care. His body twitching while his cock remains hard within you, the feeling of his cum swimming in your cunt, making your head spin with euphoria.

Drowsiness hits you quickly, and Shouto’s body heat is quickly putting you to sleep.

He pulls out of you gently, and the feeling of his cock no longer in you makes you whimper, your nose burying into his neck as he flips the two of you over so that you’re laying on his chest. His hands send warm and cooling waves through your body, helping soothe the aches in your tired body.

“That was…” you mumble, your mind unable to think straight.

“Something?”

You snort, your head nodding.

“Yeah… something…”

“I love you, y/n,” Shouto whispers against your temple, and you sigh, contentness and warmth flooding your aching body.

“I love you, too.”

[hoekaashi]

3 am Talks - hq pt 4

a/n: first and foremost, please don’t attack me for the twins’ accent. i know i didn’t even try but i also don’t have the brain capacity to do it rn. second, i know i did karasuno but i was requested to do asahi after posting it and i wasn’t gonna make a separate post for just him so i slapped his ass onto this one (: pairings: kita x reader, atsumu x reader, osamu x reader, suna x reader, sakusa x reader, asahi x reader warnings: language, some spoilers for post time skip taglist: @babydabi​, @suckersuki​, @bakugoustanaccount​, @animoozies​ part 3

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

⇾ omg this boy is gonna talk about how proud he his of his teammates ⇾ like full on proud dad moment (i imagine him like that one panel from the last chapter, just so proud) ⇾ he’s such a soft man, he would talk about how he wants to start a family with you ⇾ what do you mean the sheep aren’t our kids??? ⇾ so would wear a soft smile listening to you ramble on about something ⇾ he would love to hear whatever was going on inside your mind, would never tell you to stop talking or cut you off. Ever.

You climbed into bed after waking up to pee in the middle of the night. Kita had been up for a while and you were unsure as to why he was still up. Before you fell asleep, the two of you had been watching his old teammates play a match on tv and he had been praising them the entire time. “What are you doing up still?” “I was texting in the group chat after you fell asleep and I just can’t sleep now.” You sat cross legged next to him. “What’s on your mind now?” “How I want to start a family with you in the future.” That came out of the blue. Neither of you really talked about that far in the future. “The twins started arguing again and Aran started yelling at me to get them to stop. I asked him why he was telling me to stop them and everyone replied that it was because I’m the only one they still listen to. And then everyone started talking about how I was like the team dad even after all this time and I started thinking about how I would be if I was a father and if I would still act the same. I looked down at you sleeping and the thought just came to me.” You were speechless. “I mean, not that I have any problems with having kids with you, but I wouldn’t classify the twins as test subjects on your parental qualifications. I don’t think they compare to toddlers because the twins actually listen.” “Well, that’s why we have chicken. And sheep.” Kita gave you a warm smile. “Honey, I love you, but please don’t tell me that you just compared animals to human children. Possibly ours.” “It’s okay. It’s good practice.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ for as much as i shit on him, i do love atsumu (osamu is the superior twin, sorry lei) ⇾ but this poor baby would always be in such a negative head space after losing a match ⇾ literally thinks his entire team hates him, his coach wants to replace him, his brother and ex teammates would look down on him, wondering what was so great about him ⇾ he would just need to get his feelings out without judgement - just hold him while he word vomits but sometimes he does need to hear some motivation to get him out of his funk ⇾ this kind of feeds into the other things he would talk about if he didn’t have a match ⇾ just a lot of talk about his insecurities and how he feels inferior to other people his cocky persona is fake ⇾ just wrap him in a blanket and feed him comfort food as he lets out everything weighing down on his heart

“If I didn’t fuck up five serves, we coulda won.” Atsumu was laying on his stomach with his head on your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair. “You weren’t the only person who messed up today. You can’t blame yourself for losing the game when everyone made a mistake at some point.” “But mine were so easy to prevent.” He wrapped his arms around your waist tighter. “I know when I go into practice next week, coach is gonna bench me. I’m not even mad, I deserve it.” “Tsumu, don’t say that.” “It’s true. Samu even called me out on it after. And I know the entire team wants me out.” At this point, you didn’t know what else to say because no matter what, Atsumu was going to believe that he was the worst player on the team. “I’m just holding everyone back.” Your hand stilled in his hair. “Tsumu, the only other setter who’s managed to pull off that crazy quick with Hinata is Kageyama. Plus you got Bokuto on your team too! Both of those players are so high energy and hard to manage, yet you make it look so easy. So you had an off day, everyone does. Everybody makes mistakes, everybody has those days -” He got up and glared at you before you had a chance to finish what you were saying. “Hannah Montana is not the right person to bring into this motivational speech.” “But you sing Hoedown Throwdown and True Friend on a weekly basis.” “And you better take that sentence with you to the grave.” You grinned at him. “But imagine how much money I could get for selling those twelve little words to the press.” Yes. He tackled you and made you swear on your life that you wouldn’t tell a soul.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ it depends on his mood: either he’s doing all the talking or he’s strictly listening, there’s no in between ⇾ when he’s talking, it could be about a n y t h i n g ⇾ from atsumu to food to you to work to a new show he’s watching to kita to meeting up with friends ⇾ literally anything ⇾ he doesn’t necessarily need to know you for a long time, but he does need to feel close to you if he ever talks about how he feels about you ⇾ he’s not the type to be soft of the regular, so when he is being soft, he’ll be even quieter, maybe even hide his face in your neck or your stomach depending on the position the two of you are cuddling in ⇾ when you’re the one doing the talking, his hands are always busy doing something - most of the time playing with your hair, but it could also be playing with your hands, massaging your hips, etc

“- so Kita blocked our numbers.” “I mean, you did cuss out Atsumu while his phone was on speaker and he was with his grandmother.” “How was I supposed to know that?” he asked quietly into your neck. You laughed. “Let him talk next time. You and your brother you are adults now, so stop arguing like children.” “I can’t help it, he pisses me off sometimes.” You hummed. “Give Kita a fruit basket or take him out to lunch and apologize.” He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles before pulling you closer into his chest. “Yeah I’ll do that.” “Ooo! What if you have him test out that new recipe you were telling -” “No. I always have you test new dishes and that won’t change,” he mumbled. “Samu?” He nuzzled his face further, his breath warm on your neck. His hand moved to your hip and alternated from massaging you to rubbing his hand up and down. “You’ve gotten me this far and everything worked fine. I don’t wanna change anything.” You reached back and lightly scratched the nape of his neck. You turned over and found his face closer to yours that you expected. His arm went back to resting on your hips with his hand on your butt, pulling you closer. He gave you a light kiss on the tip of your nose. “Are you saying I’m your good luck charm?” you asked teasingly. “Nothing’s gone wrong since you’ve come into my life. I’m gonna fucking marry you one day.” You smiled. “Yeah, you also said that when you got your wisdom teeth removed. I’m still waiting on the ring.” He pulled you into a hug, your head in his chest, his lips placing another kiss on your forehead. “Don’t rush me or your not getting anything.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ he wouldn’t talk at 3 am ⇾ would literally tell you to shut up and go to sleep ⇾ and if you didn’t stop talking, he would get up and either go to someone else’s place or tell you to leave ⇾ this man does not care about what you’re thinking or what you have to say when he’s trying to sleep ⇾ so don’t expect him to be all soft and listen to you - better yet, talk

“So I was thinking -” Suna grumbled. “Yeah? You better stop thinking.” “But I’ll forget in the morning.” “Then it wasn’t necessary to talk about.” “I’m gonna say it.” “You’re gonna shut the fuck up if you wanna sleep here tonight.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ a listener ⇾ would literally tell you to shut up and go to bed jk, not really ⇾ if he’s up at 3 am with you, he’s listening to music ⇾ for sure he won’t be talking and doesn’t really want to have to pay attention to whatever you’re saying ⇾ not in a rude way but like, it’s late and he doesn’t feel like using brain cells at the time ⇾ if you are talking and he loves you, he won’t tell you to shut up or stop, but don’t expect a reply from him ⇾ depending on his mood, he’ll choose to listen or not, and when he’s listening, he’ll make sure you know that he is

“Did you make this lofi playlist?” You were scrolling through your shared Spotify account on your phone, trying to find something to listen to since neither of you could sleep. “Yes.” You played it, both of you enjoying the soothing music that filled the quiet of the room. “Do you have a fanclub?” Sakusa hummed. “Is that a yes or a no?” It took him a minute, but he replied. “Not sure. Why?” “I don’t know how I feel about a group of girls drooling over you.” Were you proud? Jealous? Indifferent? You couldn’t figure it out. But the fact that he asked made you happy that he cared enough to bother listening to you. “Why should you care?” You looked over at him. “Well, what if they’re the crazy type of fans who try to break in here. Or don’t like that we’re dating and try to kill me?” He laid there in silence with his eyes closed as you spoke about all the extreme types of fans that you had heard about. Once you finished, he remained quiet. You felt bad, thinking that you bored him to sleep. “Love, I think you’ve been listening to too many true crime podcasts.” “But still, those types of people exist.” Sakusa shifted with his eyes closed, pulling you so you were resting on his chest. “Stop thinking about that. It’s stupid. Now go to sleep.” “But -” “Go to sleep.” “I can’t.” He shushed you. “Sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ jesus would talk about his insecurities ⇾ would catch you up with his friends aka the other third years ⇾ but also i feel like his anxiety traveled with him into adulthood so like, lots of stress talks about releasing new designs on time and not wanting to let people down/be a failure ⇾ he would talk about his travels too, the different things he enjoyed from each country he visited with noya ⇾ would make plans to go somewhere with you when both of you had the time to drop off the face of the earth for a little bit

“So where else did you want to visit?” you asked. “Maybe Switzerland?” You nodded. “That’s a good choice. Want to do anything specific?” “Not really. When I was with Noya, we kind of just winged everything. It was more exciting and memorable that way.” “I do remember you being more free.” Whenever he called you or sent you pictures and videos, he seemed more happy. “Really?” “Uh huh.” “I do remember feeling less stressed. I have a deadline coming up soon and the pressure is intense.” “Does it feel like volleyball stress?” He gave you a little shrug. “A bit? I have a team - a different type of team - and I don’t want to let them down, but in this case, I’m the captain without anyone to rely on. Everyone else needs me to have everything together, so I don’t have the time to freak out or be stressed.” “Yet, you’re still a ball of anxiety.” “Am I?” He grimaced. You nodded. “I’m trying to get better. It’s really hard when there’s a voice in the back of your mind telling you that if you mess up, everyone will be let down and disappointed in you. On top of that, the media and public are so harsh with everything. There’s just a lot of pressure.” “But you’ve done so well. Sure things were a little shaky when you first started, but you’re well known now and well loved.” “You have a point. I’ll do better for you.” You smiled. “I’m already proud of you, don’t worry about that.”

[cobaincreates]

the fuck is a touron?

warnings: language, smut (wrap it you’re smart), 18+

count: 7k+

hehehehehe ;)

part two!

gif cred

— — —

“i was one hundred percent trying to teach him a lesson, but he’s too stupid to realize that you’re not supposed to lend one of my t-shirts to a random girl. god, he’s so dumb.” liza shook her head in frustration, her thumb absentmindedly scrolling along her phone screen.

“didn’t you guys used to be friends?” you asked, picturing the girl in mind. you could’ve sworn you’d seen liza with her at some point.

liza made a noise and bit her lip. “maybe he’s just trying to get back at me for something. i can’t think of anything i did though.”

“maybe they’re just messing with you. you know, because you did sleep with both of them.” liza made another dismissing noise. you took a sip from a glass she had given you from her kitchen. it was just beyond the doors behind you from where you sat on her massive deck.

you had taken it upon yourself to visit your friend before the last few weeks of summer ended. you’d see her back at school anyways, but she had asked you several times to make the trip out to see her. you’d been enjoying the ocean breeze and the hospitality of liza and her dad. it had only been a few days since you arrived; you hardly thought about leaving.

so far you had been biking around with liza through small sections of her neighborhood. she pointed out a few of her favorite spots, mostly trying to pass the days with you here, but also to make you feel welcome. she had taken you shopping off the island today, which resulted in a thousand more steps recorded on your phone and a new bathing suit to wear. you had also found a little lighthouse souvenir figure that you planned to put somewhere in your room once you got back home. you had dinner at a restaurant that liza said was one of her favorites, then you took the ferry back at sunset and now here you were, sharing a whole box of wine.

you snuggled further into your sweatshirt and pulled a pillow onto your lap. you stared out at the ocean in liza’s backyard and imagined how insane it was that she lived right on the beach. a small fire sat in front of you, warming your legs. liza put her phone down and took a large sip of her wine.

“anyone cute here? think i’d be into some east coast beach boy.” you mentioned, squinting your eyes playfully as you looked over at her.

she shrugged with her head on the back of the couch. “i mean there’s a few i went to school with, but you don’t want to mess with them.”

“how come?”

“they’re practically heartless. they’d totally leave you in the dirt.” she said. “well, sand.”

you snorted. “are you speaking from experience? because if so, i’m more than willing to get into a fight in your honor.”

“shut up.” she laughed. “you don’t want anyone from here, trust me.”

“no, trust me when i tell you that i do. i haven’t gotten laid in months and i’m crawling out of my skin.” you admitted as much as you didn’t want to. it had been a simple thought before getting on the plane to visit and you didn’t think you’d bring it up, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. even while shopping you were mostly on the prowl. they should’ve had a store to buy a one-night stand. you were on vacation, you deserved to indulge.

“i have so much pent-up frustration. i need someone to sex me right now.” you continued, drinking the rest of the wine just to add to your tipsy rambling.

“jesus.” liza stared at you.

“i don’t want to tell you this but i was literally fantasizing about your dad earlier.”

“ew!”

“i’m sorry!” you laughed. “i mean, he’s single so it’s fair game.”

“absolutely not!” she looked at you like you were crazy, and you couldn’t stop laughing as she got up to get more wine, taking your glass too.

back home, there wasn’t anybody you wanted to sleep with. you didn’t really make any friends in high school that you kept into college and it was hard when most of your friends lived in different states. sure, there were apps for hookups and for you to meet new people around you, but you had a thing about technology tracking that made your skin crawl.

liza came back less disgusted with you, handing you your glass. you sipped on it and stared at the fire, not feeling tired in the slightest from how much you walked. beside you, liza picked up her phone again and scrolled, tapped.

“i don’t know why i’m doing this, but there is someone i might be able to set you up with.” she said minutes later.

you perked up with optimism and shifted on the couch. “mhm, give me more.”

“his name’s topper.” she said, her phone illuminating her face with a white light.

“you’re kidding.” you deadpanned, your eyebrows furrowing. you figured she was joking, slipping in a harmless pun.

“i’m not.” she bit her lips together, glancing at you to gauge your reaction.

“what kind of name is that?”

“could not tell you, but he’s super chill and i’m pretty sure he’s newly single.” she said, tapping a few times on her phone’s screen. “he was dating someone from his college for months, but i think they broke up since he doesn’t post pictures with her anymore.”

“i just want to fuck him. what does he look like?”

liza tapped a few more times before shining her phone at you. you squinted from the brightness before your eyes adjusted, took in the photo she was showing you. he was in front of a sunset and you could faintly pick out the dirty blonde locks. liza picked a different one that gave you a better view of him.

you let out a delighted hum, smiling slightly. “he looks like an asshole, but fun.”

“i have his number,” she said, turning the phone back to herself. you leaned your side into the couch, readjusting to keep the warmth. the fire cracked as one of the logs shifted.

“text him.” you prompted liza and scooted closer to her to watch her type on her phone. she found his contact and moved her thumbs along the screen.

hey so weird question but would u be interested in hooking up w/ my friend?

the friend in question is not me i swear

“smooth,” you said as she sent the texts.

“i can’t believe i’m helping you with this.” she locked her phone and dropped it into her lap. you shrugged and sipped from the glass, staring into the fire.

you slipped into a regular conversation with liza while she waited for a text. you weren’t giddy for a reply or asking her to check every ten seconds. it didn’t really matter that much to you if you didn’t hookup with anyone or not, you just thought you’d put it out there.

liza had you cracking up, bent over the couch and nearly falling to the floor when her father came outside onto the porch. you settled as you looked up at him, listening to him ask you both if you were doing okay and needed anything. liza was quick to shut his offer down when you gave her a look, jokingly wiggling your eyebrows at her. her dad noticed, looking between you two as you belted out laughing again, this time landing on the wooden deck. liza tried to keep her laughter in, telling her dad that you were fine and that you both were just a little drunk. he nodded and left you two alone.

“god, you suck.” she said once he was out of earshot.

you were now crying from laughter as you sat up. you wiped your eyes and climbed up onto the sofa, taking your glass from the floor. “i’m glad you invited me,” you giggled as you pulled the pillow back onto your lap. you both continued to shake with the aftershock of amusement.

“he texted me.” liza said suddenly as her phone was back in her hands.

“and?” you asked, leaning your side against the cushions. you propped your elbow on top of them and held your head against your hand.

“all he said was ‘pic’.”

“send him one.”

“okay.” she said and turned toward you, opening her camera on her phone.

“should i pose? how does my hair look?” you asked, brushing the back of it just in case it had gotten messy from falling to the floor.

“do something before i send a blurry one.” liza commanded.

you put your hand back against the side of your face and smiled lightly. liza took the photo without the flash, the fire bright enough. she set her phone down again and hit send as you watched her thumb. you watched her screen for a second then looked away, tilting the glass against your lips.

“he said ‘give her my number’.”

“fuck yes.” you said. you reached behind you for your phone, feeling around for a couple seconds before finding it. “okay, what is it?”

liza read his number aloud as you typed it in. you opened your camera and took a selfie, holding the wine glass to your lips and crossing your eyes. you typed, hiii, and hit send.

after having not touched your phone in the past few hours, you moved out of the conversation with him and replied back to a few of your friends. it wasn’t long before he texted back. you opened the message to find a photo sent back to you, tapping on it with an intrigued smile. he took his own selfie, balancing a beer bottle on his head with his own fire lighting up his face in an orange glow. you saw someone’s back behind him, your eyes trailing down to the drawstrings against his chest at the bottom of the photo.

impressive, you sent.

what’s your name?

y/n! what kind of name is topper?

rich people

thought so, you joked. are you sporting salmon shorts and sperry’s with that sweatshirt?

liza was in her own world as you texted topper. you glanced at her, finding her glass propped on her chest so she could slowly sip it. she was texting like a speed racer.

you looked back down at topper’s new message and laughed.

gray sweats and sandals

socks?

no

thank god

you watched the bubbles pop up almost immediately. they disappeared with no message then came back.

liza said u wanted to hook up?

you weren’t sure what to say back. your thumbs floated above your screen for several seconds before you decided just to be honest with him. what’s the worst that could happen?

long story short i’m needy & haven’t been laid in a while

you down?

sure when’s good for you?

“i’m going to get some ice cream.” liza said as she moved off the couch, throwing her phone down on the cushions. “you want any?”

“sure.” you said before typing.

think we’re going to the beach tomorrow so how about sometime in the afternoon? i’ll text you

sounds good, looking forward to it

“oh my god.” you said loudly, dropping your phone.

“what?” liza called from the open door. you could hear her clinking around the kitchen.

“he just sent an eggplant emoji.”

suddenly the clinking of dishes was drowned out as she laughed louder than before. you covered your face and laughed too.

—

the next morning you woke up already feeling too warm. you winced as you felt the heat radiating through your body and you peeled your eyes open. you were still on the couch outside and the sun was happily beating down on the deck. you moaned and pulled a pillow over your head. you remembered that you had finished the boxed wine with liza last night along with ice cream and decided to just sleep outside. with the alcohol and walking, your legs were not prepared to function that late at night.

you lay there for a few minutes until liza’s foot appeared and knocked right into your nose. you flinched and held it as it throbbed, sitting up to throw the pillow at her.

she jerked awake and grimaced at you and the sun. “what?”

“you just kicked me.” you said nasally. you sniffed and checked your nose as it continued to pulse. liza yawned, stretching and sitting up to look around like she forgot where she was.

“today’s going to be a good beach day if it’s this fucking hot.” she grumbled. her hair was wild atop her head, sticking out in every direction. she looked over at you as she yawned again. “breakfast and then beach?”

you nodded, your hand back in your lap as the throbbing subsided. you picked up your dirty dishes and phone and followed liza inside to eat. her dad was already cooking when you two came inside and your mouth watered at the sight of food on the counter. he provided a whole display of drinks, fruit, bread, and eggs that had you contemplating about never leaving.

liza told her dad of your plans for the day while you ate. you kept quiet as you cleared your plate, normally taking at least an hour to fully wake up in the morning. liza seemed almost too chipper in the mornings from what you witnessed. once you finished up and put your plate in the sink at liza’s dad’s request, you went to her room to fish out your new bathing suit. you changed in the bathroom and brushed your teeth along with the rest of your morning routine. you pulled on a t-shirt and shorts over your suit and tied your hair up just as liza knocked to see if you were done.

thirty minutes later, you were on your way to the beach. you held liza’s tote bag in your lap, full of snacks, waters, a speaker to connect to her phone, and towels. you were anticipating the beach, wanting to just run into the water and swim all day.

which is what you did for the next few hours. you munched on some pretzels, drank a ton of water that you had to pee several times, listened to music, and laid out in the sun. you soaked up more sunscreen than you could imagine, reapplying at least ten times. the water felt good whenever you swam to the sandbar with liza and back to the shore.

liza was on her stomach now, her hair still damp. she closed her eyes against the sun while you sat beside her and people-watched.

“when are you going to text topper?” she mumbled against her arm.

you watched an elderly couple read their respective books while sitting beside each other in folding chairs. they sat under a green umbrella, the one reading a james patterson novel with their toes poking out of the sand and the other reading a paperback of some sort with the cover twisted back and wearing a large sun hat.

“i guess i could text him now.” you said, hearing her question.

“i’ll probably head out whenever he gets here. let you two be alone.” she drawled.

you shoved at her shoulder and reached for your phone. you found topper’s conversation and typed quickly to tell him which beach you were at.

you want me to head over there?

you weren’t expecting him to text right away, but you replied back just as quickly.

yes

you put your phone back down under your shirt and lay on your stomach so you could keep an eye out for him. you looked at where the parking lot was, a large area of gravel and tall grass. people were pouring in and out of the beach, little kids in thick foam flip flops kicking up sand while older adults with mass amounts of luggage followed after them.

liza sat up, looking in the same direction and drinking from her water bottle. you flipped over onto your back and closed your eyes, listening to the crunch of sand, the distant chatter, the hush of waves.

“that’s him.” liza said beside you. you couldn’t tell how long it had been. you leaned up onto your elbows and looked behind you, seeing topper walking down the small crest in a white t-shirt and bathing suit bottoms.

“do i look okay?” you asked her as she watched him under her sunglasses. her head turned to you and you didn’t need her glasses off her face to know the look she was giving you.

“i don’t think you should be worrying about that if you’re just going to end up taking your clothes off in front of him.”

“just say yes and move on.” you said, exasperated.

liza laughed to herself and lifted her hand to wave topper over. you watched as he put his phone back into his pocket, lowering his gaze to his sandals as he walked along the sand. you pushed yourself to stand with liza, trying your best to not fix your appearance.

“hey,” liza said easily as topper came closer.

“hey, how’s it going?”

“good. this is y/n, as you already know.” liza gestured to you.

“hi,” you said and gave an awkward wave. it was only awkward with liza there, but you knew she’d be leaving shortly.

“hey.” he said and slipped his hands into his pockets.

it made you smile when you saw his eyes traveling over you for a split second. liza saw it too. you let your own eyes wander as liza said something; you weren’t paying attention to listen. 

“well, i’m going to head out.” liza said as she bent to roll up her towel. you crossed your arms loosely as you watched her. she picked up her bag and turned to you. “let me know if you need me to pick you up.”

you gave her a nod and watched her take a few steps. she turned slightly to point at topper. “be nice to her.” she warned, making you laugh like she was a parent trying to threaten a boy.

once she was out of sight, you sat down on half of the towel so topper could have the other side. he followed you, propping his legs in front of him as you stretched yours out.

“so, are you just here for the weekend?” topper asked after a few moments. you were trying not to let it become awkward, but he had beaten you to it.

“until next saturday.” you said, glancing at him as you leaned back on your hands. you could feel a shell under your palm, so you moved it to a different spot. “liza wanted me to visit before we go back to school.”

topper nodded, his elbows atop his knees. he glanced at a beach ball rolling by, a little kid chasing after it. “are you guys close?”

“you could say that. you went to high school together?”

“yeah, we kind of had the same friends so we hung out at the same places.”

you hummed as you looked toward the shore. you saw a couple kites over the water, their tails whipping in the wind. “it’s nice here.”

“yeah, kitty hawk is nice. i like to paddle board over at kill devil hills.” you turned your eyes to him, finding him already looking at you.

you smiled lightly and squinted at him. “i’ve never been paddle boarding.”

“really? it’s fun. what about surfing?”

“i tried, but i split my lip. i’m sure if i tried again i’d get the hang of it.”

topper nodded with an identical smile, looking at you a little longer. ten seconds later, your heart lurched as topper reached back and took his shirt off. you glanced away with a slight blush, an inkling of a thought about public sex creeping into your mind. topper then stood and reached a hand to you.

“come on, come in the water with me.” he promoted. you felt your heart settle as you took his hand and he pulled you up.

you spent the next fifteen minutes in the water. you glided your hands along the surface as the waves rolled and topper talked animatedly with you. you were enjoying this part as much as you didn’t want to admit, seeing as that all you were looking for was a hookup. but he was so talkative and curious and hardly ever broke the eye contact. you played with the sand under your feet while he dunked himself under the surface then wiped a hand over his face.

when you got out and dried yourself off with liza’s towel, you wiped your face and looked over the soft fibers at topper. you held the towel out to him, dripping onto the sand. you were partially dry for now and itching under your skin. you looked away as he dried himself off but found yourself looking back as he bent over to wipe down his legs. when he stood tall again, you couldn’t help the way your eyes lingered over his glistening stomach, admiring.

“can we get out of here?” you asked.

topper nodded and handed you the towel. he took it back from you after pulling his shirt on so you could do the same. your bottoms were still wet so you left your shorts off for the time being and grabbed the rest of your things. topper fiddled with his keys, brushing the sand off them as he led you to the car lot. the gravel poked at your bare feet, some pebbles sharp enough to make you wince, but you endured it the whole way to a jeep that topper brought you to. it unlocked with a beep and before you climbed in, you put the towel over the seat and brushed your feet off, not wanting to track sand, dirt, or rocks into his shiny vehicle. it felt too high up for you, like you were sitting on the roof rather than inside it, but you closed the door gently.

—

“oh...wow.”

it kind of looked like a forty-year-old woman threw up. and it was all over the house. every room seemed overly decorated, a bunch of different script fonts with those cheesy sayings plastered everywhere. the house had high ceilings and the paint was pristine. it was very bright due to all of the windows and you wondered if there were any dark spots at all inside the house.

even topper’s room had a hint of a forty-year-old woman in it when you walked in.

“i think your mom went overboard at pottery barn.” you joked. “your dad couldn’t monitor her credit card uses?”

topper closed the door behind you as you wandered in, hands clasped gently in front of you. he tossed his keys onto a dark dresser beside the entryway and paused there at your remark.

“i don’t know my dad.” he said.

you turned then from staring at the light blue walls adorned with framed potted plant prints. “oh.” you said, your stomach aching like you’d been kicked. you knew it wasn’t exactly the nicest thing to say, no matter how you said it. normally you could get away with saying things like that, but you had to remind yourself that you didn’t know topper.

“my dad has a habit of canceling a lot of my mom’s outstanding online purchases so i just thought— i’m sorry.” you shifted on your feet, moving your hands to your sides.

topper only shrugged as you went back to scoping out the room. you tapped your thighs awkwardly as a discarded pair of socks seemed pretty interesting to you. when you looked back at topper, you relaxed since he didn’t come off as uncomfortable. you decided to just forget it and push it out of your head as you crossed your arms and reached for the hem of your shirt.

you left it somewhere on the floor before taking a few timid steps to topper. he stayed where he was against the dresser, watching you closely as you came to him. you leaned in close, bringing your hand to the back of his neck while his hands fell easily to your hips. glancing over his features quickly and landing on his mouth, you smiled softly and asked, “is this okay?”

the tension left your body as topper nodded, staring at your own mouth, before you finally gave him a kiss. another had him opening his mouth wider, and another was a little deeper. you smiled against him.

“what?” he asked, his fingertips poking at your sides, his face close.

“i can taste your toothpaste.”

topper’s cheeks tinged a light pink and he pulled you closer against his body, licking into the next kiss and surprising you. you moaned delightedly and brushed your fingers into his damp hair.

you let your hands wander down his neck, shoulders, and chest. he felt firm in all of those places and his shirt soft. you enjoyed the touch of his hands on your face, exploring a new territory, and holding you close. every cell in your body was cheering with delight, like you’d just chugged a liter of water after a sweltering day. a slight buzz started under your fingertips as a familiar tingling grew in your bathing suit bottoms. every touch had you anticipating the end result.

topper’s skin was warm and taut as you slipped a hand under his shirt and played with the waistband of his bottoms. his tongue was fighting with yours while you were fighting with yourself about whether or not to take his shirt or bottoms off first. you couldn’t decide if you wanted to get it over with or to build up to finally having him inside of you. a moan slipped out at the thought. your finger hooked between his lower stomach and his bottoms when he pulled away abruptly at your noise and reached behind him to tug the shirt off.

as it fell to the floor, his hands returned to your hips to tug you flush against him. you could slightly feel him through his bottoms, the want to stick your hand inside now greater than ever. but he had a tight grip on your hips that showed no signs of letting up.

your breath was heavy with his as he turned the both of you so you were the one pressed against the dresser now. his hips brushed into yours slowly as the edge of the dresser dug into your lower back and you let your head fall as another moan came out.

“shit.” you whispered to yourself, your eyes closing at how good it felt. something so subtle that had your knees growing weak.

topper dragged a hand up to your jaw and pulled your lips back to his as he rolled his hips, this time a little firmer. to only add to the pleasure you were feeling, his hand slipped down to your chest where he groped you gently. he massaged a few strokes as you licked at his lip, begging for entrance. he granted it while he fingers flexed over your breast. you gladly let them wander to your back where he pulled at the strings, the damp silky fabric peeling off like those fake tattoo papers you put on when you were younger.

you pushed your now bare chest against topper’s, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and rubbing the heel of your foot into his calf. he turned you around, his hands rubbing down to your ass as he moved to the bed. you crawled backwards at the same pace he crawled over you, faces still close that you could feel his breath growing heavy.

“stop teasing.” you said through clenched teeth as topper nipped at your neck and rolled his hips into yours.

“where’s the fun in that?” he smiled to himself as he skimmed his nose along your neck.

you wanted to kick him, but instead you settled for pulling him back against your lips while letting your hand rest on his shorts again. his hips seemed to sink lower to you at the feeling and you hadn’t even touched him yet.

your ears perked up at a small noise from somewhere while topper went unfazed and slipped his tongue back into your mouth. you ignored the small disruption and focused on him and your hand, now creeping your fingers along his abdomen. just as you barely got a knuckle deep into his bottoms a sliding door opened and banged. topper must’ve been so lost in where your hand was going that he still didn’t move away from you.

“did you hear that?” you pulled away.

“what?” he breathed.

a chorus of shouts and hollers came through the closed bedroom door. topper stilled and closed his eyes. “fuck,” he said before he pushed himself up and crawled away from you.

your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him get a footing and leave the room. you stared at the open door, partially annoyed at the interruption and the fact that you were left; naked.

groaning, you got up and pulled on your shirt again so you could follow topper. you went down the hall and found him in what you assumed to be the living room, a large tv on one wall and a white couch placed in front of it. the sliding door you heard led out onto a large deck, where you saw a group of guys all standing. topper’s bare back was facing you as he was in the middle of talking to someone, his shoulders tense.

the moment you stepped on the threshold, your bare feet against the cool metal, all eyes were on you. the guy topper had been talking to looked over his shoulder, instant curiosity on already stimulated features. he had topper’s hand in his, his opposite on his shoulder like he was giving him a pep talk.

“who’s this?” he asked, a sick smile appearing like you’d drop down onto your knees in front of him.

you grimaced very noticeably and spoke for yourself. “someone who’s trying to get laid. who the hell are you?”

a few low whistles rang out and you sent glares to the guys behind the one you were originally looking at. topper looked at you over his shoulder and gave you an apologetic look. you were glad he didn’t ask you to leave or wait for him, because you would’ve gladly left. you were starting to feel the irritation bubble and soon you would be leaving.

“got yourself a nice touron, huh, top?” the friend said, his arm looping around topper’s shoulders as he jostled him. his eyes were blown wide and not just from surprise. you grimaced deeper. they all looked like entitled, pretentious asshats and you were starting not to want anything to do with them. liza was totally right.

“rafe, come on, just leave. i’ll text you later.” topper was saying while you seethed at the door.

“don’t be pussy-whipped, topper. just drop the bitch and come try my new stash.”

“excuse me?” you pushed yourself off the doorway and stepped onto the warm deck. topper stopped you, turning out of rafe’s arm to plant his hands on your shoulders.

“woah, woah,” topper said as you sent daggers at his friend. he just laughed cockily at you and rubbed his chin. “can i text you later?”

your eyes snapped to topper’s pensive face in front of you. “are you kidding?” his hands dropped like you singed him. “don’t even bother.”

topper opened his mouth to call after you as you turned and walked away into the house. you shook your head to yourself and muttered as if anyone was listening. you should’ve known better or you should’ve expected less than for someone to put your needs before their own, much less a total stranger.

you wanted to slam a door behind you in annoyance as you went back to topper’s room to get your shoes. you also wanted to yell in frustration when you remembered your phone was still in his truck; you had wanted zero distractions. his keys were atop his dresser and you debated for a second whether or not to take them— you’d just be getting your things and liza’s towel.

just as you snatched your shoes and bathing suit top from the floor, topper slid into the room behind you and blocked the door. “please don’t leave,” he said quickly.

“unlock your car so i can get my stuff.”

“come on, please stay. i want you to stay.” he took a step closer to you, his pleading expression prominent.

“i don’t want to be here with your shitty friends pretending that we might get along when one of them just called me a bitch for no reason.” you countered and took a step to get by him, only to be caught around the waist. he turned you gently, his expression still the same.

“they’re leaving right now, i swear.”

“i don’t believe you.”

“i swear!” he pleaded. “you can go look yourself or you can take my word for it and we can pick up where we left off.”

you held your steely glare, trying not to show that you were reconsidering. you just really wanted to get laid and the situation only added to that frustration.

instead of smacking him with a sandal, you dropped everything in a heap and attached yourself to him again. his fingers worked quickly to pull your shirt back off, running along your sides and planting themselves on your hips. you nipped at his lip, silently begging him to move faster. he seemed to have the right idea as he turned you and pushed you back to the bed. you landed softly, your legs dangling off the edge, as you watched topper stand tall in front of you. his chest grew bigger as he took a breath and bent down to push his bottoms off. you pulled your lip between your teeth, not hiding the way your eyes flickered down to catch a glimpse. your ears grew hot and your skin pricked at topper’s semi-erection, the tip of him glistening. you wondered what he tasted like.

your gaze broke as topper moved to the side of the bed, rifling through his nightstand. you took that opportunity to take your bottoms off, flicking them somewhere in the room with your foot. you flipped over onto your stomach, grinning to yourself at the full view of topper’s butt. taking a nail between your teeth, you bit it anxiously and watched as he found a condom. you couldn’t help but giggle as he looked over the packaging, reading the date. your feet kicked in the air playfully.

when topper went back to the foot of the bed, you looked over your shoulder as he rubbed himself before rolling the condom on. he combed a hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead.

“good to go?” you smiled.

he breathed in and nodded. “you want it like this?” he gestured to the way you were on your stomach.

you hummed, nodding your head, and moved a little further down the bed so your hips were at the very edge. topper’s hands fell to your thighs and he spread your knees apart, his skin ghosting against yours as he stepped closer. you took a shaky breath in as the anticipation rose higher— god, you couldn’t wait. deep down, you hoped that it didn’t suck. he had worked you up so much that you were sure you’d feel silly if it wasn’t satisfying.

you tried not to show just how desperate you were as the tip of him teased your folds. you licked your lips, biting down on the bottom one and lay flat on the mattress. his hand gripped your hip now while the other guided himself to your entrance. a high-pitched moan bubbled from your chest and slipped past your lips as topper slowly moved himself inside of you. you let out a lower, satisfied moan when he was fully inside, flush against you. your feet knocked into his back as you adjusted to the size of him. topper tried to control his panting behind you, staring down at your ass and himself fully sheathed by you.

“jesus christ,” he said more so to himself, marveling at the way you fit around him. he imagined it would’ve been so much better without a condom, but this was just as good.

just as you were about to ask him to move, he pulled out of you inch by inch. it felt uncomfortable at the empty feeling, but he came back a little quicker with a low noise of his own.

topper kept a steady rhythm, his hold tight on the skin over your hips and his breath blowing across your back each time he thrusted into you. you reveled in his noises, enjoying the low grunts and the occasional moans to mix with yours and the sounds your bodies were making. his skin started to smack against yours, building as your hands tightened over the comforter. there wasn’t much conversation or dirty talk, which you didn’t mind at the moment since you weren’t looking to lengthen this experience out. you just wanted him to give you what you needed. so far, he was doing a pretty good job.

the bed dipped beside your shoulder as topper’s hips still moved. his body moved closer to yours, the heat from his chest seeping into the skin on your back and giving you a pleasant wave of goosebumps. you opened your eyes to find his fist planted beside you, just as his other hand gripped your shoulder. you pushed yourself up to your elbows, stretching your head backwards. topper followed your movements and bent over you, planting a wet kiss to your lips. he continued to move in you, the hand on your shoulder moving to your neck, his fingertips settling on the sides. you breathed heavily into his mouth at the new sensation as a slew of curses rang out in your mind.

topper licked into your mouth, teasing you and playing with your tongue as his fingertips pressed a little more into your skin. you moaned lowly and broke apart from him. he stayed close, reaching down to your ear and nipping at your earlobe. your mouth opened, eyes screwing shut again as you became aware that you were close to your end. maybe if he just squeezed a little more around your neck, you’d go over the edge.

“topper, i’m going to come.” you breathed, feeling your head knock into his shoulder as he still moved. just then his hips snapped forward, hitting you a little deeper, a little harder. his lips moved off your ear, his breath hitting it now. you tightened yourself around him, not knowing that it brought him even closer while you came over him. you held on to the blanket, knuckles turning white while the same thing happened behind your eyelids. your face screwed up in ecstasy as topper pumped into you deliciously, his movements eventually faltering and stopping as he found his own climax. he groaned loudly into your ear, his breath hot, his grip not too tight, and his come feeling warm even through the condom. if only you’d actually felt it.

topper let go of your neck and you lay flat again, finding your breath with a heaving chest. topper watched the side of your face through hooded eyelids as he stayed hovering over you for a moment. the heels of your feet rested against his back; your thighs no longer tight against his thighs as you relaxed now.

your eye lazily opened as the air in the room met your back, topper moving away from you. you could see him out of the corner of your eye as he carefully touched your side and pulled himself out of you. you made a small noise, almost one of disappointment that he didn’t stay there longer. he disappeared from your sight and your legs promptly closed, your feet still in the air even though you ached from staying like that for a while.

when topper came back, condom gone and thrown away and holding a washcloth, he tapped your lower back. you pushed yourself up slowly, wincing at tired joints and muscles, and thanked him before finding your way to the bathroom. you cleaned yourself up inside, peeing quickly and washing your hands. topper was stepping into his shorts when you came back.

“the fuck is a touron?” you asked as you reached for your bathing suit bottoms almost under his dresser.

topper laughed behind you. “it’s a tourist.”

you made a face and pulled your bathing suit top over your head, tying it in the back. “east coast people are weird.”

topper smiled to himself, glancing at you as you pulled your t-shirt on. he was dressed and ready to go when you were, grabbing his keys and letting you lead the way.

once he pulled into liza’s ridiculously long driveway, you thanked him and jumped out, not wanting to make it awkward. liza was in her kitchen when you walked in, hair a little messy but dry.

she looked up at you from cutting some fruit. a curious smile came onto her lips. her eyebrows rose. “how was it?”

you lifted yourself into one of the chairs at the island counter and reached over for a small piece. “i don’t like his friends so i can see why you warned me but i’m letting it go.” you said, popping the fruit into your mouth.

liza blinked at you, not totally understanding but becoming uncomfortable with how chilled you were compared to the other days you’d been her guest. “wow,” she said. “you really had a whole ass iceberg of frustration, huh?”

“i told you.” you shrugged and laughed once you stared at each other for a moment.

you ate dinner that night with liza and her dad, hearing a few stories and sharing your own over wine and lobster. just after you helped clean up the dishes and the kitchen, you felt your phone vibrate in your sweatshirt pocket. pulling it out, you read texts from a number you hadn’t saved.

i enjoyed today

let me know if you’re ever visiting again😉

⭐️taglist of beauties & babes!⭐️

@tovvaa​ @fttayla @dontjinx-it @moniamaybank @drewstarkeygf @cheshirecat107​ @jjmaybankzz​ @obxcunt​ @honeyyhemmings @dvakat @macey730

[boognish-worshipper]

Midnight City AU

this is an au where the main characters are all young adults!! (or millennials ig? they’re in their 20s basically) i gave a rundown of what’s what on a diff post,, i’m also splitting it up into diff chapters,, so this is gonna take a looooong time to finish. i’m posting this before i nitpick my writing to the max

it’s basically a lot of references to that point in time, artists, pop culture etc. all the chapters are named after songs from that era (including the name of this au bc i love midnight city and what better way to describe LS ‼️), and the lyrics r usually connected to what the chapter’s about, or about a character dynamic :D i hope this isn’t too cheesy, or sounds off ig. any typos in this were probably over looked bc i constantly reread my writing and rearrange stuff and make sure it sounds good 🥳 hope y’all enjoy !!! i’m also including a tag to find the chapters under :)

//Chapter 1: Crimewave

Trevor would never, ever admit it, but he had fallen into the category known as “post-hipster”. This was a strange era that began culminating, taking LS by storm. Whether he liked it or not, he could never avoid it. Even if he swore up and down he wasn’t like them, it was practically a paradox. Saying he wasn’t like them just made him a branched off version of the thing he denounced. Each aesthetic that was churned out as the 2010s rolled in were tied to a style, a sound, and Trevor couldn’t care less. It’s not like people liked what he liked. He didn’t belong to anything in particular, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t like them. If anything, he just became another obscure genre in the mix.

One of his favorite music groups was a Canadian duo called Crystal Castles. He enjoyed a good number of their songs, developing an interest for electropunk and pop punk. There was something unique about the sound, and it made Trevor feel special, like he discovered some sort of hidden treasure. He was into pop punk groups like Paramore too, but it was something about them that was just different. People knew Paramore. He often lingered around Sterling Lake, where other post-irony hipsters and classic hipsters resided, careful not to fully associate with them. After all, he apparently despised them, even though he participated in their strange… “culture”. If you could even call it that. From time to time he would find himself discussing his favorite artists with whatever semi-normal person was there, making a couple friends himself who weren’t the snooty kind he’d grown used to.

They all loved talking about how exceptional their taste in music was, a wide variety of people hanging around with their own cliques. Some liked Fall Out Boy, while others liked Blink-182, and then there were the weirdos who liked groups like Radiohead. Most of those guys were whiny, proclaiming how misunderstood they were. He knew maybe one Radiohead song at most (he definitely, definitely never cried to “Creep” and even if he did, so what) but never found himself willingly getting into their music. Then you had the nosedivr crowd, which consisted of mostly girls, and the occasional hipster guy that defected. Their taste was.. alright. Consisted of artists like Lana Del Ray and Marina and the Diamonds, who were their idols. He found almost everyone there besides the few friends he made kind of edgy, and not in the cool way. But he figured all hipsters and guys like them were kind of uncool. Don’t even get him started on those other indie rock types. God. He still came back as often as he could though, establishing some kind of routine. Most people there avoided him anyway, which he preferred. He had enough troubles with them in the past. There was one day he grew tired of the people gawking at him, and he launched a hipster right into the lake. So yeah, nobody within their right mind so much as looked in his direction. That was just how he rolled.

Today, he sat on a nearby bench in Sterling Lake’s park, watching some ducks float on water. His usual friends had been there too, seeing his clowncore buddy Wade with his cousin Floyd. Wade was extremely different than the pretentious fucks around them. He had a shit ton of piercings, and ICP was his favorite music group. Floyd on the other hand, fit right in. Almost too much, like it was something he was forced to do. But he did genuinely enjoy Weezer, of all things you could enjoy. Wade started waving at Trevor, while Floyd hid behind him. All he did was awkwardly wave back, turning his attention back to the lake. He liked Wade, but the clown stuff he wore sometimes spooked him. He didn’t pay much mind to his relative. Looking back across the water, he saw someone new, observing the area. Some dude a little above the average height, hands in his pockets walking around. He seemed a bit lost, and Trevor figured he should help if he was. After all, what was this guy doing here? New people didn’t show up often.

“Hey bud, you lost or something?”

“Oh uh, nah not really. I’m just looking for this girl I met a while ago, said she hangs out around here?”

“What she look like? I’m here pretty often.”

“Uhh kinda short, dark brownish hair? Wears fishnet stockings, high waisted shorts or whatever those grunge people are into.”

“Let me guess, she into the Neighborhood?”

“How’d you know?”

“Yeah, that’s Amanda, she’s a bit of a regular. Not too fond of me I must say.”

“How come?”

“She’s just petty towards me.” He said with a shrug. He didn’t feel like relaying his encounters with her if the guy was dating her or something.

“Oh… well d’ya think you could help me find her? I don’t really know anybody else here. I could actually use the help, since you know her.”

“Eh sure, why not.”

It’s not like he had anything better to do. The two began to walk around the park, gravel and dirt crunching beneath their feet.

“So.. what’s this place about?” The strange guy asked.

“Hm? Oh, it’s just one of those places the hipster folks meet up I guess. Don’t understand it much myself, nor do I really like them.”

“Then why do you come here?”

“Dunno. It’s relatively peaceful, those freaks keep to themselves.”

The man, who was only a smidge shorter than Trevor, glared up at him.

“Hey man, don’t call my girl a freak.”

“Ehh I don’t really count her in with the generic skinny jean wearing hipsters. More of a.. what is it called.. nosedivr type. Whatever that stupid website’s called. Why do you think she dresses like that?”

“Huh.. Never really thought to ask her.”

As he thought about the stuff Amanda wore, he took note of how the man next to him was dressed. He sported an olive jacket with a black turtle neck, and a plain pair of jeans. He wore beat up black converse to top it off, and a pair of Rimmers sunglasses sat upon his head. He looked simple, yet distinguished with the way he presented himself, hair neatly combed back. He figured the two would look nice standing next to one another. They would’ve made an attractive couple, if they weren’t dating already, the kind that turns heads. Trevor wasn’t like them. He wore a black beanie over his mullet, and his favorite pair of red Dix sunglasses rested on the bridge of his nose. The rest of his fit looked disheveled. He had thrown on a wrinkled top, solid black with little surf boards and cars along the bottom- he was a sucker for Hawaiian shirts. His pants were tan colored but had some bleach stains, with old combat boots on his feet.

“Yeah, we may not like each other but I don’t really consider her a freak like those guys.”

He jutted a thumb in the direction of a circle of guys huddled around a phone. The man holding the phone had strawberry blonde hair and a clean outfit on. An expensive looking outfit.

“Who are they?”

“The people here I absolutely cannot fucking stand. The genuine hipsters.”

“Oh.. and you’re..?”

“I’m my own kind. I’m not like these losers, all uppity and shit.”

“Right. Gotcha.”

They walked around a bit more before finding the group Amanda was with. She sat on a bench, chatting with a few girls who dressed similarly to her. All of them had black incorporated into their style. She herself had a black jumper on, tucked neatly into the front of her jean shorts. Just like the guy described, she had fishnets on under them, skater shoes to match. Loose braids fell on her shoulders, and a small black choker was wrapped around her neck.

“Oh, there he is now! Babe! Over here!”

She narrowed her eyes upon seeing Trevor standing next to him.

“Hello, Trevor.” She huffed.

“Relax, I was helping your boyfriend or whatever look for you.”

Her face softened slightly, but still kept a small glare in his direction. She pressed her lips together tight before replying.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Yup.”

The man turned to face Trevor, sticking out a hand.

“Hey, thanks for showing me around. Trevor, is it?”

“Don’t wear it out.”

He shook his hand, noticing how soft it was. It was in stark contrast to his own, which was rough and calloused.

“Name’s Michael. I’ll see you around most likely? Thanks again.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Amanda huffed again, nudging Michael’s shoulder.

“Let’s go hun, Bean Machine closes soon!”

“I’m comin’ I’m comin’!”

The two sauntered off, hand in hand. Trevor stood dumbly, watching them walk away. He was right. They did look good together. He wondered if he would actually see this Michael again, kicking a rock. He went back to the bench he originally sat at, putting his earbuds in, listening to some Crystal Castles again to pass the time. The beat thumped in his ears, and all he could think was how much better this shit was compared to that club music shit that played on every radio station in a 5 foot radius. He sat there, scrolling through his own secret nosedivr account, reblogging some photo of a lit cigarette. Right before a hand touched his shoulder causing him to jump.

“What the fuck- Oh. Ron.”

Ron was another friend of Trevor’s, a guy he had met outside one of the iFruit stores talking about how “they’re tapping the phones they sell in there!” and all that conspiracy nonsense. He was a paranoid guy, but Trevor kind of liked that about him. Those were the kind of freaks he liked. He was shorter than Trevor, sort of frail in stature. He wore a bright red windbreaker over a faded tourist tee that read “I went to Liberty City and all I got was this lousy t-shirt!”, along with khaki colored cargo shorts. It didn’t help that he wore some goofy looking bucket hat, and socks with sandals. He dressed like someone’s middle aged father.

“Trevor! Have you seen Wade around anywhere?”

“Last I checked, he was with Floyd.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Uh no, but my best bet is they went to that vinyl shop Floyd’s girlfriend works at.”

“Will ya come with me to find him?”

“Now why the fuck would I do that? What do you need him for?”

“Well I- I uh- um..”

“I uh! I uh! Spit it out Ron!”

“It’s about the Merryweather Night Club.”

Merryweather was a big organization that had a wide range of private clubs all over the country, and complimentary body guards to suit. They were all expensive as fuck, and anywhere they settled jacked up the prices of everything else. A lot of neighborhoods became gentrified as a result, and people actually considered it a good thing. What a fucking joke. Trevor of course couldn’t stand it. He hated bullies, and Merryweather was no exception. He’d been wanting to dismantle the club since they settled in LS, seeing as they only amplified the fake feel of the city. Let’s just say he’s gotten into more than a few scuffles with the club. And let’s just say it ended with someone getting stabbed as a result. The guy had it coming to him anyway. Between bouncers and the clubbers, they didn’t like Trevor or his kind loitering around the joint. It didn’t stop him from plotting some sort of revenge though. Ron per usual was on board, his reason being Merryweather’s violent history that had been swept under the rug. They were rather forceful relocating people who had lived in certain neighborhoods for years, Ron being one of their victims. Wade only decided to tag along because he wanted to be included.

“Ah fuck, what’d those bastards do now?”

“They’re throwing some big party!”

“…What fucking for?”

“All I know some guy’s coming to visit, somebody they labeled important and he’s-“

“Woah woah woah wait, Ron. Who?”

“Steve Haines.” He breathed out, careful not to be overheard.

Trevor’s eyes widened, his gaze shooting over to the posse he had poked fun of before. Steve was talking to the group, all of them doing that fake laugh they always did. God, even their humor was pretentious.

“Those fucking hipsters!” He hissed.

“I abhor them, you know that-“

“I know. I know. But, that Weston guy’s gonna be there with him-“

“Weston? Devin Weston?”

If Trevor hated hipsters, then he utterly loathed rich daddy’s money boys like Devin Weston. He had only gotten that stupid fucking night club because his father paid Don Percival enough money to let Devin do whatever he pleased with the Merryweather body guards. It was an elitist club, and they only allowed the best of the best in there.

“What the fuck’s going on there?”

“Something to do with those guys he hangs out with. I think they’re doing something major, expansion maybe-”

“And him and Devin are working together or..?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t hear much after that, that’s why I wanted to grab you and Wade and-”

“Then let’s fucking go get him, Ron!”

The two rushed out of there, heading for the vinyl store to look for Wade. Trevor knew a shit storm was coming, and he absolutely couldn’t wait.

//the next chapter’s gonna be longer i promise lolz

[x-childish-x]

WRITING PROMPTS

Hello everyone! I decided to create this list of writing prompts for those of you that would like some regular prompts, so here it is. For any that are similar/the same as other people’s prompts, I’m sorry and I didn’t intentionally mean to steal these. 

Feel free to send in a ask/make a comment/dm me with a number(s) and a character! Characters are listed below! Other characters I may be willing to write for, simply ask! Please specific whether your requesting off the nsfw prompt list, if not then I’ll assume you mean this list!

Send in a request here!

Request Rules/Guidelines

If requesting off a prompt list, please specify which one!

Requests can be off any of the following prompt lists or not! Feel free to send in any ideas, requests, questions, comments, or anything else!

Please view my request rules before submitting a request!

“They’re good for each-other.” "You think so?" "They were destined to be together."

"That was so stupid." "And also kinda cool, right?" "No.. just stupid."

“Shut up and hold me.”

“I’m not leaving. Ever.” "What about when you die?" "Can't I just be romantic for once?"

"What if you leave?" “You’ll find your way back to me, I know you will.”

"You got us into this mess!" "Well then you should get us out if I'm the one that got us here!"

“I’ll take care of you.”

"What's that song you used to sing to me?" "(choose a song)" “Can you sing that song for me again?”

"And the moral of this story?" "Not everything has a moral. I don't have one either."

“You’re the reason I’m still here.”

"I swear to god, I'll beat you to death with my high heels, if you don't shut the fuck up."

“What's wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?”

"Do me a favor and don't start a war while I'm gone."

“I think (she/he/they/I) rubbed off on you.” "Is that really so bad?"

“Don’t let go.”

“You didn’t think you’d be able to get rid of me just yet did you?” "I wasn't planning to."

“Because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?”

"Oh no, please, by all means... continue..."

“I haven't and could never get tired of you.”

"There are a thousand different ways to tell someone you love them, and I intend to try every single one."

“Are you alright?” “I will be.”

“If you don’t let her go right now, I swear I will break every bone in your body.”

“No you don’t understand, I have to get back!”

“I’m not your princess.”

“You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

“I don’t know if I want to yell at you or kiss you.”

“Stop flirting with me, I’m not going to fall for it.”

“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

“Tell me why I should stay." “Because I need you...I...I’m not good with this sort of stuff.” "That's not enough."

“You’re in-love with somebody else...”

“It wasn’t supposed to end this way. This isn’t the person I fell in-love with.”

“Is that blood?” “.....No?”

“You were the one who walked out, not me.”

"I loved you."

“Are you really choosing (her/him/them) over me?”

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.”

“Don’t you remember me?”

“You have to let me go." "Don't say that."

“Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

“It’s all in my head. This isn’t actually happening, you’re not real!” "Of course I'm real."

“Look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said... d-do you really mean it?”

“Why are you letting (her/him/them/me) do this to you?” “Because I love (her/him/them/you).”

“Why is it so hard for you to believe me?”

“Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know, it just hurts you more.”

“Are you hurt?” “No.” “Then why are there bruises all over your face?”

“Wake up! Please don’t do this to me.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t fall in-love.” "I lied."

“(She’s/he’s/they’re) just a friend.” “We used to be friends to be ‘just friends’ too.”

“You’re weak.” "You're one to speak."

“People say I’m heartless.. but I guess they do have a point.”

“I'm never silent.. I'm either drinking coffee or saying bad words.”

“Another nightmare?”

“We are stranded here together, so we may as well work together to get off this rock alive.”  

“Get out of my head.” "I was never really in your head."

"(Was/Is) it worth it? Risking everything just for a chance.”

“I’m not going to fight you.”

“Can we please stop running? I think I’m dying.” "Well if we stop running, you will die!"

"If I die, I’m haunting you first.”

“Every time I think I’m close to finally figuring you out you end up surprising me.”

"Why would you lie to me?" "It wasn't my choice!"

FANDOMS:

STAR WARS 

Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader

Poe Dameron

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Kylo Ren

Finn

Han Solo

Luke Skywalker

Din Djarin

MARVEL 

Loki

Pietro Maximoff

Steve Rogers

Tony Stark

Thor

Clint Barton

Bucky Barnes

X-MEN

Peter Maximoff

Kurt Wagner

Warren Worthington iii

Erik Lehnsherr

Logan Howlett

Wade Wilson

Hank McCoy

Alex Summers

Scott Summers

AHS EVAN’S CHARACTER’S

Kit Walker

Kyle Spencer

Jimmy Darling

Tate Langdon

James Patrick March

SUPERNATURL

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel

Jack

Crowley

[ellohcee]

Call Me

Okay so I want to throw this little bit out into the universe of one of my favorite instances of Jasper I've written. Context: He's a host for a dinky late night radio show and he has like... 10-15 listeners max and David is one of them, a college student who Can’t Sleep even between classes and his job, so he’s up late late listening to Jasper’s show. He calls in sometimes because Jasper is always offering advice and encouraging people to call in and chat, specifically about LGBTQ topics and David finds comfort and encouragement in their chats. They’ve been talking for a while but he still goes by the name Red. 

- - - -

“Alright you night owls, this next one goes out to my long lost buddy, Red.”

David looked up at the radio in surprise, his pencil stilling on the page.

“It’s been a while since we’ve heard from ya and we miss you dude. And I’m gonna get hella gay up in here, but that’s on brand for me, I miss you.”

David’s breath caught in his throat painfully, his heart hammering.

“So I hope you catch this, give us a call, let me know how you’re doing buddy I’m dyin’ here, don’t leave me hanging. Cause I’ve got a question for you and you wont know what until you gimme a ring. Yes I’m gonna be that guy. So call. Please.”

The music picked back up, and true to Jasper’s word, Blondie’s Call Me started playing.

The pencil had slipped from his fingers without realizing as David tried to decipher all of that, especially that last, sincere please. Jasper missed his calls? Maybe he was just worried because David had dropped off so suddenly. It had just been too nerve wracking once he realized he was crushing on the radio host. But what could Jasper possibly want to ask him? Was it good or bad?

He was still nervous and the idea of calling in downright terrified him now, but… he at least owed it to Jasper to let him know he was alive. It must have looked bad, for him to be consistently calling about once a week and then suddenly stop with no warning, going on nearly two months of silence now. Jasper was always so nice and seemingly happy to talk to him, he must be worried. Gosh, now he had to call, he felt terrible.

David had to take several steadying breaths and about twenty good minutes to work up the nerve, but he managed to eventually press call, hands shaking as he listened to the phone ring.

“What’s up caller you’re live, how’s it hangin?”

“Um, hi...” he said quietly.

He heard a soft intake of air and a shuffle. “That you Red?” Jasper asked, sounding hopeful, the excited smile evident in his voice.

“Y-yes, it’s me,” David replied.

“Aw, buddy, good to hear your voice again man, I was gettin’ worried bout you.”

“I’m so sorry I- just- life, you know?” David hedged, feeling even more guilty because he couldn’t give an honest explanation.

“I feel that, it’s cool dude, it’s just good to hear from ya. I assume you heard my call out?”

David’s heart started beating faster, so, so antsy. If it weren’t for the guilt of worrying Jasper he probably wouldn’t have had the guts to call, but he could still be a wreck about it, easily. “Yes, I did. You... had a question?”

“Yeah! You don’t mind me askin’ live?”

“Um, sure, that’s fine,” David said nervously. It couldn’t be too bad if it was something Jasper could ask on air. Right?

“Sweet. So. Last we talked your rough waves from the coming out thing were settling. You found a boyfriend yet?” the radio host asked casually.

David eyebrows shot up in surprise, his face going so very red and he was so very grateful this was a phone call, not in person because that would make it ten times worse. “Um- n-no, I- I haven’t… um, no,” he stammered uselessly. Why was this the topic??

“Awesome!” Jasper said in delight, leading to an awkward pause. “Wow fuck that sounded hella mean I am so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Cheese and crackers, foot in mouth Jasp, good one. Anyway! I just meant because- like, stop me if this is too weird, or hang up on me, but I was wondering if I could like… take ya on a date?”

David’s heart stopped in surprise, the blush that had just started receding coming back full force. His stomach whirled in a mix of dread and excitement, trying to go one way or the other as his brain stalled for a good long moment-

“Red?”

David sucked in a breath. “Is- are you- are you serious?” he asked softly, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“Course dude!! I wouldn’t fuck around with you like that, hell no! I’m for super serious!”

“But… we’ve- you- you don’t even know what I look like,” David stammered, trying to find reason to turn him down, but so, so desperately wanting to say yes. He felt stupid for saying it the second it left his mouth, Jasper didn’t seem at all the type to place a lot of importance on appearances.

“I don’t need to! I’m sure you’re rad as hell, but I’m not a looks guy, okay? I like your personality, and I love shootin the shit with you, and you’re super nice. That’s the kinda stuff I’m into, and if you’re hella cute, which I’m sure you are, that’s a bonus!”

David stared down at his desk for a long moment, his thoughts a mess, one hand over his mouth as he took this all in. He had to take a moment to pinch the soft skin on the inside of his arm to decide that this was really happening and he hadn’t passed out at his desk into some dream where his crush happened to reciprocate-

“Reeeddd?” Jasper teased softly after another long pause, bringing him out of his panic spiral. “No pressure my dude, you can say no.”

“Yes,” David blurted shakily.

“Yeah??” Jasper asked, his voice picking up in obvious excitement and relief, despite his apparent brace for a rejection. “For real?”

“Y-yes, I’d… I’d like to,” David said softly, his face still red.

“Aw man, awesome, shit. Okay uh- no PI on air so uh- I go off air at 3, you’re usually up pretty late, yeah? Think you’ll be around?”

“Yes, I should be.”

“Supes, call back when you hear me sign off and we’ll hash stuff out, okay? Or at least do personal numbers to talk during the day.”

“O-okay,” David stammered, his mind whirling. “I’ll do that.”

“Sweet. Okay man, you sound a little wigged out so I’ll let you get back, and I will be counting the minutes til sign off,” Jasper teased.

“Okay, um, talk to you later? Bye.”

“Ta-ta for now!” Jasper sung.

David disconnected the call, his pulse still racing as he listened to Jasper on the radio once more, turning the volume back up just in time to hear.

“Oh my god, wack, holy shit you guys he said yes- fuck he’s probably listening and I sound like a giant goober- hi Red! Okay, anymore callers before we go back to music? Holy shitballs.”

A quick, incredulous laugh escaped his mouth before David could stifle it, his chest swirling with fear and elation. Jasper- Jasper had asked him on a date- and he sounded just as rattled as David felt. That helped a little to know it wasn’t just him- Jasper had just been loads better keeping a cap on his nerves while they were talking.

“You’re up caller!”

David came back from his thoughts when he heard a familiar voice, one of Jasper’s other regular callers.

“Oooooh Jasper asked a boy on a daaatteee~” she teased in delight.

“I know oh my god dude I’m still weak from it, I didn’t wanna mess up with Red but I like… really want to meet him and take him out, especially once he stopped calling? And no offense Red if you’re still there it’s TOTALLY cool cause that woke my ass up! Holy shit I still can’t believe he said yes.”

David listened all throughout the rest of Jasper’s show, all thoughts of homework lost as he leaned his elbows on the desk, hands clasped in front of his mouth. Anticipation made his nerves spike again while sitting through Jasper’s familiar sign off, where he bid goodnight to his listeners and started the after hours playlist. David waited a minute before taking a deep, deep breath and pressing the call button.

It rang only once before the line picked up, and a hopeful voice answered. “Red?”

“H-hi Jasper,” he replied.

“Hey dude! Hey, sorry to put you on the spot like that but- y’know, I figured it would be less creepy to everyone to just be upfront and ask you, instead of being like ‘hey call me after hours hoohoo wink wink,’ ya dig?”

David stifled a giggle, smiling. “I understand. It probably would’ve made me more nervous to have to wait that long, wondering what your question was,” he admitted.

“That too! I wanted to just… put it out there, figured it’d be best. So! You’re really cool with going on a date?”

“Yes, I… I’d like that. To meet you,” he added softly, flushed.

“Rad, okay, nice. So let’s just exchange numbers for tonight? I know you might not sleep anyway but it’s friggen late and I don’t want to keep either of us up too long.”

“That sounds good, I don’t want to keep you up either,” David replied. He gave his number first when Jasper gave the go-ahead, listening to the other man hum as he typed it into his phone, and a few moments later David heard a buzz near his ear.

“I just shot you a text so you have my number and can add me.”

“Got it,” David replied, pulling the phone away briefly to see a text notification at the top of the screen, a short string of peace sign emojis that made him smile.

“Awesome sauce. Well- shit, I’m really excited but again, we can talk later. Try to get some sleep, okay dude?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned and losing his usual casual tone. “I worry bout you.”

David smiled, touched by the thought. “I’ll try.”

“Okay, I’ll text you sometime tomorrow- today, whatever, much later. Give you a chance to snooze. Night Red, and thanks for- you know. Thanks. Night!”

“Goodnight Jasper, and thank you too,” he replied softly.

“No prob, catch ya later.”

David pulled the phone away and ended the call, his heart still hammering as he tried to comprehend everything. But he decided to pack it away for later, turning off the radio and closing the long abandoned textbook. Hopefully he could get a few hours of sleep and be a tiny bit more composed when he next spoke with Jasper.

Doubtful, but it was a nice thought.

[queenrose730]

Reckless

The Winter Solider 

Master List

2014

It had been a while since you had been back to the Avengers tower. Once SHIELD got all official after the Battle of New York, they got a big fancy building in DC. You decided to keep an apartment at the tower but honestly spent most of your time now in DC. Now though, you had been forced back by Steve. All because of a broken leg. It didn’t even happen on a mission, although that might have been better. You were sparing with another agent when a mistake happened and your left leg was broken. Steve nearly took the guys head off when he heard you scream. Somehow between the pain you got Steve to focus on you. After all it wasn’t the others guy’s fault.

The doctors put you in a cast and told you to use the crutches for at least 3 months. Then they would reevaluate the leg. Steve caught you once without your crutches and set you back to New York. It forced you to take your job slower and you couldn’t do as much. Plus, Tony and Bruce kept an eye on you. After a week there, Tony broke down and figured out how to make an exoskeleton cast. This way you could get around more easily and hopefully complain less. After some trial and error, and the ok from the doctor, you had a brace. It came up around your thigh and had a plate that slid under your foot. The knee joint move freely but the ankle was locked, but could be loosened as you healed.

“Well it looks like your leg is pretty well healed agent.” It was almost three months to the day.

“Thank god.”

“I would still recommend the brace for another month but the ankle can be set to move freely.”

“Awesome. I’ll get Tony to do that.” The doctor at the tower was so much nicer than at SHIELD. Probably because they were ex-military docs. They somehow always were dicks.

“I’ll want to see you again in a month. But other than that you are free to go.” You hopped of the bed and shook the doctors hand.

“Thanks again. I appreciate you working with me.”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice.” He raised an eyebrow. To which you just shrugged your shoulders and headed out. The doctor just laughed as you walked out the door.

“Hey Jarvis. Let Tony know I’m on my way down!” It took all you had not to skip down the hall.

“Certainly Miss yln.”

As you reached the elevator you grabbed your phone to let Steve know how your leg was and maybe drop the hint about getting back to your regular work. Before you could type your message, number came up on your screen.

“Speak of the devil! I was just about to text you. I got the all clear from the doc.”

“That’s good yn.” His voices sounded off.

“What’s wrong Steve? How’d the mission go?”

“It was complicated.” He let out a sigh over the phone.

“How complicated?” Suddenly the conversation was serious. You changed the floor you were headed to, now going to your apartment.

“What do you know about something call Project Insight?”

“I’ve never heard of it.” The door to the elevator opened and you walked down the hall.

“Fury showed it to me. I need you to see if you can find anything out about it. Something doesn’t feel right.”

“Sure. Hang on a sec while I get my computer up and running.” You sat down at your desk. Setting the phone down and putting Steve on speaker. If something did sit right with him, it was trouble. You learned quick to trust Steve gut.

“Alright let’s see what I can find.” A quick search of shield records didn’t provide much.

“All I can see is that there is a file under that name but it pretty high clearance. Like Fury and a few others. What is it?” You kept click through files that you could open while listening to Steve.

“He’s got three helicarriers. At armed to the nines. He said it’s a way to neutralize threats before they happen.”

“What? So shield is building their own nuclear deterrent? How is Fury ok with that?”

“I don’t know. Can you see anything else?”

“No Steve. Not without hacking in and they would know it was me. I doubt even the people working on it know what they are building.”

“Ok. Well I’m going to have to do some more digging around here.”

“I can come down there Steve. My leg is fine.”

“No yn. Just stay there. Keep digging though files and see what you can find.”

“Ok. Be careful Steve.”

“You too sweetheart.”

You spent the rest of the night combing through any file you could get your hands on. Tony came up sometime after dinner. He was going to yell at you for not eating or coming down to have him loosen your brace. But changed his mind when he saw the mess around you on the desk. Instead he went back and grabbed you a plate. Pulling you away for only a moment so you could eat and he could take care of the brace.

“So how bad is it kiddo?”

“I don’t know Tony. The more I dig the more inaccuracies I find in all kinds of files.” You stared at the computer twirling your fork. “I think I might head down to DC.”

“Well I’ll get a jet ready for you. It’ll be on standby.” He stood from his seat and walked to the door. “And what is it the Rogers always tell you? He gave another pause and you turned to him. That’s right! Don’t do anything stupid of reckless yn.” With that he was out the door.

You took one more look at the computer before standing up and heading to the bed. If shit was about to hit the fan you at least need to get some rest.

Apparently you needed more than you thought. It was almost 8am when you finally woke up. You decided against breakfast for the moment. You checked for phone for any messages then hit the shower. After your shower, you started to pack your bag. A change of regular clothes along with your tac suit. Some toiletries and a few extras. Lastly was the fun stuff. In the hall Closet was your own mini armory. You pack your usual two pistols and a few blades. You also grabbed a couple auto injectors. Can never be to safe. While you were packing though you missed the alert on your computer. Something big was happening.

“Miss yn. You jet is ready for takeoff.”

“Thank you Jarvis.” You walked to the door and laced up your boots.

“There was also an alert that came up on your computer miss.”

“What?” You stood up and headed to your desk. Leaving your bag by the door.

Sure enough there was an alert. Nick Fury was dead and Steve was wanted by Shield.

“What the fuck!” You nearly topped your chair when you stood. Instantly grabbing for your phone to call Steve. There was no answer. Shit. Shit. Shit. You grabbed you bag and ran to the jet. Shit was hitting the fan. A lot of shit.

“Jarvis let Tony know I’m leaving.”

“Certainly.”

You flicked through your takeoff procedures and grabbed the controls.

“Jarvis try Steve again.” You shot up into the sky heading to DC.

“I’m sorry miss. He did not answer.”

“Fuck. Try Maria.” She was always close to fury. Hopefully she would know what the hell was going on.

“Hill.”

“Maria. What the fuck is going on?”

“Yn.” She paused. It sounded like she was taking to someone.

“I’m on my way to DC. Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“Yn. I’m sending you Coordinates to land at. Do not enter DC air space.” Fuck. This was bad.

“What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you when. You get here. Just get here.” She hung up. You pushed the engines to max speed.

You made it to the coordinates Maria gave you in almost record time. 20 minutes from her hanging up to when you touched down outside an old dam. Maria was out waiting for you.

“Tell me what the fuck is going on!” By the time you landed you were fuming. Not at anyone particularly but at the whole situation. “What happened to Fury? Where is Steve?”

“Come on in yn.” She turned to lead you into the damn. All you wanted to do was cuss and scream at her nonchalant attitude towards everything. You followed her down the damp hallways of the dam until it opened up into a small room.

“I could hear you cursing from in here yn.”

“Fury! What the fuck” He held back a laugh. “SHIELD said you were dead. How?”

“They needed to think he was actually dead but we got him out of the hospital and here for treatment.” Maria moved around the bed and started talking to one of the doctors. You took a seat next to fury.

“What is going on?”

“Shield has been compromised.”

“By who?”

“HYDRA.”

“Project insight is them.” You sat back in your seat. That would explain all the odd bits of info you had been picking up while digging through files. Fury nodded at your response. “How long?”

“I’m not sure. At this point we don’t know who to trust.”

“So why I am here? Why did you let me know you’re alive?”

“Because other than Captain Rogers, you would be the second person in line to kill anyone that might be affiliated with HYDRA.” He wasn’t wrong.

“So where is Steve now? What’s are next play?”

“Hill is working on how to get Steve. Then we stop Insight.”

Sitting around was not your style, but Fury told you to wait. Maria was on trying to track down Steve. Doctors where still working on patching up fury. All you could do was sit and wait. You knew that if Steve was running he would have ditched his cell. At this point it really wasn’t safe to call anyone else. Fury didn’t even want you call Nat. You only slipped a call to Tony to let him know you landed. He tried to press for more info but you shut him down quickly. You could hear the news playing in the background about Fury and Steve.

It was well into the night when Maria finally found something. A STRIKE team had been sent to a mall then Camp Lehigh was bombed. There was still no indication where Steve was at.

Then around mid-morning the next day more alerts started going off. Sitwell was kidnapped.

“That has to be Steve right?” You had taken up a post with Maria going through any SHIELD alerts.

“It’s a good chance. Keep digging.”

“God I should have come down here when he called me the other night.”

“There’s nothing you could have done. You would just be on the run with him.” Maria looked up at you over her computer. “And do you think Steve would want you out there or here?” You caught the smirk on her face.

“Yea yea.” You waved her off. Steve did just about anything to keep you safe. He learned quickly that your self-preservation was about as good as his.

“This is it!” She stood up quickly and spun her computer around. A STRIKE team orders to grab them on the freeway. They were helping out “the asset”.  “If I can get into one of those prisoner transports, I can get them out.” Before you could respond she was off to Fury.

“Take the team and get him.”

“Yes, sir.” She turned and started ordering the men around.

“I’m coming with you Maria.”

“No you’re not yn. I need you here.” It was an order from Fury.

“Fine.” You just watched as Maria and her team suited up.  

“I don’t what you doing anything stupid out there yn.”

“I know Fury. I know.” He was right. The likelihood you would do something stupid was pretty high. All you could do now is wait.

  The plan was easy enough. Steve, Sam and you each had a chip to place into the helicarriers. Linking them and taking them out of the air. Nat and Fury would take down SHIELD. Exposing everything to the world. Steve was on edge even though he didn’t show it.

“I want you to get on and off that helicarrier quick. Don’t mess around.”

“Steve I’m fine. If it’s about the leg, it’s ok.”

“Yn. It won’t take much for you to rebreak it.”

“Yep. And it doesn’t take much to break my other bones either.” You teased and jogged off to your starting point.

“Yn I’m serious.” He said over comms. You just laughed to yourself and continued on.

The guys gave you a head start. You listened to Steve talk over the intercom. People that you passed looking nervously between each other. Once you reached you carrier, it was mostly unguarded for the moment. Steve drawing the attention away from it for the moment. Just a few bad guys to take down. Suddenly the door above the carrier began to open.

“Uh, guys they are getting ready to launch.”

“Get that chip in place and get back to Maria yn.” You rolled your eyes at Steve even though he couldn’t see you.

You pushed harder to get to the control center to get your chip in place. Thankfully it seemed most people hadn’t quite realized you were already on the ship. Outside you could see that Sam and Steve were drawing the most attention.

“I got my chip in place. How are you guys doing?” Getting out was going to be a bit more difficult.

“I’m locked.” Sam shouted.

“Two down. Captain how are you looking?” Maria was running the ground.

“Working on it.”

“Steve where are you? I’m coming to you.” You started working your way to the flight deck.

“Yn get back to Maria. I got this.”

“Oh fuck you Steve.”  You heard Sam laugh.

“I like her.” That earned a groan from Steve.

“Since you like me so much want to give a lift Sam?” You kept working your way to the deck. First plan was to grab a jet and head to Steve. You just had to get up there.

“6 minutes until it reached altitude.”

“Sam! Where is that ride!”

“I’m grounded. Steve’s on the carrier.”

“What happened!”

“Winter Solider.”

“Shit.” You pushed off from where you were hiding. Steve told you that somehow that was Bucky. That whatever happened to him when he was captured during the war must have helped him survive the fall. You knew Steve would be blinded by his friend. Even if he didn’t recognize him.

“Steve you copy? I’m on my way.” No response.

“Falcon. I got Rumlow.” Maria broke in.

“I’m on it.”

“Maria can you get into one of these jets and get it started for me?” You kept clearing a path.

“Space five. Staring engines now.” The jet just ahead of you roared to life and the hatch opened.

“I could kiss you girl!” You climbed in and headed to the last carrier.

By the time you reached the control center Steve and the Solider were already locked. You took aim and started firing at the Solider. It caused just enough distraction for him that Steve was able to lock him in a hold.

“Yn.” He hissed over the comms.

“Just get me that chip Steve!” Steve shoved the Solider off of him and started toward you. Climbing up the structure.

“Steve!” The Solider was back up an aiming at Steve. He tossed the chip at you. You barely got your fingers on it, leaning every part of your body over the railing. A shot rang out.

“Go yn!” Steve kept climbing as you rushed to the computer. More shots were fired. This time they hit you. First in your leg.

“Yn!”

“I got it Steve!”

“One minute!” Maria shouted over comms. This was it you just had to reach- Another shot. It hits you in the shoulder propelling you forward. You slam into the control center. Pressing the keys as fast as you could the door slid open. Just as you reached to put your chip in another shot hit your stomach. You fell before you could get the chip placed.

“Damnit.” Steve had reached you. He grabbed the chip from you and slammed it home. “We’re locked.”

“Get out of there guys.”

Steve reached down to scoop you up when he was shot in the shoulder.

“Maria. Fire.”

“Yn.” Maria questioned you.

“I said fire!” You shouted. Steve didn’t have words to say. Suddenly there was an explosion.

“Why?”

“Steve.” You gave him a sad look. He dug in you suit to find an injector. Quickly stabbing it into your arm.

“That was stupid.”

“So is this.” You pushed him off of you. “Where is the Solider?” Steve looked around. When he stopped you followed his eye line. The Solider was trapped under a large piece of metal from the carrier. “Go.”

Steve looked back to you.

“Go Steve.” You reached into your pocket and grabbed another injector. Slamming that one into your thigh. Steve nodded.

“Here.” He handed you the shield. The carrier started to tip. A quick glance saw that it was colliding with the building.

“Stupid and reckless.” You gave him a grin then stood the best you could. At the railing you gave a look down. There was a break in the glass directly below you and water beyond that.

“Get your friend Steve.” Before he could question you, you heaved yourself over the railing and out the bottom of the ship.

You used the shield to help break the water as you hit it. It still nearly took all the air out of you. Once you bobbed back to the surface you looked back up. The building seemed to have caught the carrier and it just sat there. The extra injector gave you enough strength to slowly swim to the edge of the water.

“Where’s Steve and yn!” Your comms still worked!

“I’m in the water under the ship! I’m trying to get to shore. Steve’s still on the carrier.”

“I’ll get a vehicle and get her Fury.”

“Copy that Hill.”

You just have to get to the edge before that carrier comes down. Pushing your muscles as they ached. The pain meds quickly wearing off even with the extra dose. You glanced back. Shit. The carrier was coming down. You didn’t know if you were clear but you hoped you were. Maybe the wave it caused would give you the extra push to the shore.

Tags- @ginger-swag-rapunzel

[cami-chats]

Controlled Explosions

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Warnings: Normal superhero shenanigans

Summary: Tony doesn't go out of his way to create explosions. He just happens to be in a lot of situations where things explode, and that's hardly his fault, is it, Steve? 

Five times Tony is the cause of an explosion, and one time someone else tries to be. Written for MTH2020

Read below or on AO3

1. Define 'controlled explosion'

"You said it would be a controlled explosion," Steve said.

"Yeah," Tony said, confused, and still-- if he was being honest-- having a little trouble hearing. He'd been a bit closer to the bomb when it went off than he'd meant to be. "It was."

"That was not controlled!"

At some other time, it would be fascinating to see the differences between Steve in Captain America mode and when he wasn't. When he'd been in Cap-mode, talking to Tony about how setting off the explosion early might be a bad idea, he'd been very calm about it all. Now that he was just Tony's boyfriend, he was kind of freaking out.

Tony blinked at him in confusion. It had been controlled. "The previous location of the bomb would've brought the whole building down. I know you don't really understand chain reactions, but suffice it to say that we saved an entire city block by moving it."

"For fuck's sake, Tony! I told you to go ahead because you made me think it was going to be safe!"

"I never said it was safe. I said that it was safer than letting it go off where it had been placed, which was true."

"You said it would be a controlled explosion!"

"And it was. Maybe you should look up what an uncontrolled explosion looks like," Tony said, patting him on the arm then getting on his tiptoes for a quick kiss before leaving. He needed to take a shower and get some of this grime off. He heard Steve say something in response, but it was too low for him to really make out with his ears still ringing-- and not facing him, so he couldn't read his lips and try to piece it together. He imagined that it was something half-loving and half-derogatory, since that's what Steve usually did when Tony did something dangerous in the field. If it was really important, Steve would say it again.

2. Who knew that artifact would explode?

Despite what some people-- like Steve, Coulson, the rest of the Avengers really-- thought about Tony and his workshop, he did practice safe procedures. What they didn't seem to really understand was that there were situations where he could be safe and shit would still go wrong.

Like this. This was an alien artifact, and Thor was out of contact dealing with royal Asgard business-- presumably; it's not like he'd filled them in, just said that he had to go home and would be back as soon as he could-- so Tony was guessing. He had on thick gloves and goggles, and he wasn't even touching the glowing sphere directly, which was progress that he thought they should be appreciative of. He had tools. Not as easy to work with as his own fingers, but it was still good enough that he'd been able to pry away part of the outside protective, metal shell.

He gingerly placed the tongs on the inside and made to turn it so he could confirm that it was the same all around, but he didn't get the chance. An explosion rocked the workshop, leaving a crater where his table used to be and blowing him halfway across the room.

"Huh," Tony said, then started coughing. Bright side? He still had all his fingers. The tongs he'd been using were vaporized as best he could tell. In fact, everything metal within a foot of the sphere was now gone. Tony's gloves were untouched. He pulled one off and slid the goggles off his face so he could get a better look at them. The lenses were fine, as expected. Most of the components were plastic, but there were a couple places that had metal pins, just to help hold it together. The pins were gone. One firm tug, and the strap would disconnect from the lenses.

Half the team-- the half that had been in the Tower-- came running into the room. Tony gave a half-hearted wave, still coughing.

"What happened?" Natasha asked.

"Well, let's look on the bright side," Tony said roughly, pushing himself to his feet. "I'm still alive." If he'd been closer to it when it went off, it would've taken a chunk out of the arc reactor. Its range had been small enough that he was safe. It was obvious that things hadn't gone as wrong as they could have, so he didn't see why they were looking at him with that much concern. He coughed again. "Maybe I'll call the Fantastic Four to take this one over." He didn't want to, but he hadn't been having any luck with it before it took a bite out of his workshop. If nothing else, it wouldn't instantly kill any of them if they were standing too close. Besides, Reed was pretty good about passing information back to him. And if there was any superhero group he had to work with, he'd choose the Fantastic Four every time.

"Yeah, I don't think that really answered the question," Clint said. "You're lucky Cap's not here, or you'd find yourself wrapped in a blanket before you took another breath."

Tony flipped him off. He should probably go to medical. There hadn't been any smoke, but he was coughing like there had been. What a pain.

3. Oxygen works differently here

Other planets were weird. He could tell, just by breathing, that the air here wasn't what they were used to. The good news was that they were all still alive and were going to stay that way for a while. The Guardians-- short for Guardians of the Galaxy-- were explaining a few things to Steve. Apparently, the villain that had transported them here was one that had beef with the Guardians, and Steve wanted to be prepared in case it happened again.

Tony knew that he was going to have to wait until they were done with the official superhero talk before he had a chance to ask them about atmosphere, gravity, and what it was like to have more than one moon. He also had a few questions about the air, because this was definitely not the cocktail he was used to.

He was feeling... high, almost. It could be any number of things, but higher oxygen levels would be the answer easiest to solve on his own. If he lit a match and it burned bigger than usual, it was oxygen. If it was brighter, it was nitrogen. If it did both or a weird mixture of other stuff, he'd have no idea what it was without taking a sample of the air and analyzing it. Chemistry wasn't his strong point when it came to the sciences, but he knew the basics. Enough to make sense of breathable air, at the very least.

Nothing wrong with a little test. He had a laser in the armor, but that wasn't as predictable as regular fire even though it was easier for him to access. He had a lighter in one of the fingers of the armor, so he held his hand as far away from himself as he could for a better view, and activated it.

It went off like a fucking firework. Tony deactivated the lighter almost as soon as he'd started it, but the damage had been done. "Shit," he bit out, jerking his hand back, but he could tell that his hand had already been injured. The suit was protected from the outside, not the inside, and since it had been his lighter that had started it... yeah. That shit stung.

Even after turning off the lighter, the fire persisted. Tony cocked his head as the flames stayed where it had stared but lasted longer on its own than a fire could on Earth without something to hold onto. Despite knowing that nothing was helping it keep burning, Tony couldn't help but peer at it, trying to find a wick or gas line.

That was a bit more than he'd expected. It took a full eight seconds for the fire to burn itself out.

"Huh." Weird. He really should ask- that thought stopped cold when he turned and saw everyone staring at him.

"Dude," Sam said.

Steve's mouth was slightly ajar, like he wanted to ream into Tony for being stupid but didn't know where to start.

"In case anyone was wondering, this air isn't the same as what we have on Earth."

"Yeah, thanks Tony," Natasha said dryly.

"Always happy to help. Uh. Anyone got burn cream?"

"Is he like this all the time?" one of the Guardians-- a new one, Tony didn't remember their name-- asked.

"Yeah," Steve said.

4. Home-made, on a budget

"This has got to be one of the worst things we've done," Steve said under his breath.

"Is it?" Tony asked absently, looking at the chemical breakdown of the fertilizer. Hmph. Better for soil probably, but not really what he was looking for. He put it down and picked up the brand next to it. Ah, this was more like it. He set it down and squatted to get the big bag and add it to the cart.

"No weapons, no intel. Why aren't you freaking out?"

"No weapons is a very closed-minded view of the situation, babe."

"What, are you going to drown people in fertilizer?" Steve asked. He sounded genuinely confused, which was weird. Tony had thought everyone these days knew that fertilizer could be used in explosives.

"Just keep pushing the cart and leave this part to me," Tony said, because he figured that giving a quick chemistry lesson in the middle of the gardening section was a bad idea. See? He was getting better at this whole pretending-to-be-a-normal-person thing. No matter what Clint said.

"I'm not stupid," Steve said, and Tony was familiar enough with him to catch the irritation there.

"Never meant to imply you were, but I figured we should get in and out before we get caught." Ooo, Christmas lights. He didn't know what he would've done if they'd had to buy normal lightbulbs for this; it would've taken like five boxes instead of just the one, and they would've been less effective since they were for everyday use and used a completely different composition for the bulb covering. "Besides," Tony said, aiming a grin back at him, "you'll probably figure it out as we put these together."

"You're making stuff we can use," Steve stated, like he hadn't really known what they were doing here. Tony would like to pretend to be offended that Steve thought he'd be gift shopping at a time like this, but he'd done that during a crisis before. Then, "Are you sure it'll be powerful enough?"

"We're not blowing up a bunker. This'll be plenty. There's a lot more firepower in everyday household items than you'd think."

"Clearly," Steve muttered.

"Trust me, Cap, by the time we're back in the Tower, you'll know enough to be able to put together your own pipe bomb for the next time you get stranded like this."

"I'm hoping this is the only time."

"With our lives?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow. "What kind of odds are you being given on that? I don't think even a hundred to one would be worth it when you know you're going to lose. Or rather, I know you're going to lose, and since I have more experience, I feel like you should listen to me."

Steve rolled his eyes, but with more humor than before. Apparently, knowing that Tony had the situation in hand was enough to soothe all of his worries.

"Hey, you should be happy this place even has a hardware store. There's like, one gas station with a McDonald's attached, and then this store. I don't think I'd be able to do a lot of damage with whatever I could find in a McDonald's."

"I have faith in Iron Man's ability to save us," Steve said, and when Tony glanced at him, he was looking at him fondly and with a healthy dose of love thrown in for good measure. He'd gotten used to that expression on Steve's face in a hurry.

5. Bucky agreed with me

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Famous last words, Tony knew, but it really had. He'd tell Steve that he regretted it, if that's what he wanted to hear, but he held that it was a good idea. That it was bad for PR was hardly his fault, and frankly, he didn't understand why it would be bad for PR anyways. It was a Hydra base! They were Nazis, and everyone hated Nazis. If anything, him and Bucky should get a thank you card for performing a public service.

He got the distinct feeling that Steve wouldn't agree with that, though.

"What were you thinking?" Steve asked, looking a little frazzled around the edges. Given that he was having to deal with Tony and Bucky for this, that made sense. Normally it was one or the other. Now, he was outnumbered.

"It seemed like a good idea," Tony said, and Bucky nodded.

"A really good idea," Bucky added.

"You blew up a building!"

"There weren't any other buildings around it," Tony said.

"No civilian casualties," Bucky said.

"It's still personal property damage, and I thought we all agreed to try and cut down on that."

"Do we care about Hydra's personal property?" Tony asked, frowning. He'd been under the distinct impression that they didn't. For fuck's sake, it was Hydra they were talking about.

"Officially, the Hydra organization itself didn't own the building or the land," Steve said.

"How do you know that?" Bucky asked curiously, which was a good point. Since when did Steve pay attention to details like that? It wasn't exactly something he could know just from paying attention to the situation.

"Agent Coulson told me. As our handler, it's his job to know those details and share them with us as he sees fit."

"Damn, are you quoting the handbook now?" Bucky said, raising an eyebrow.

"Besides, if Agent is our handler, then it's his job to take care of the buildings we blow up."

"Tony, stop missing the point on purpose."

"Who said I'm missing it on purpose? Maybe I'm missing it on accident, you don't know."

Steve gave him a flat look. "You can't go around blowing up buildings just because you feel like it." He looked at Bucky. "I get that you want to, and as your friend, I support you. As the team leader and another Avenger, I have to tell you to stop. We don't get to do whatever we want."

"Yeah yeah, there are rules, we all agreed to them, we'll be better next time, all that jazz," Tony said, throwing an arm around Steve's shoulders and getting up on his toes to give him a quick kiss.

Steve just sighed. "I love both of you, but seriously, what the hell?" He put his arm around Tony's waist since he didn't move to walk away. "We've been fine on this for a couple years. What made this different?"

Tony and Bucky shared a look. They hadn't agreed not to tell anyone, but there had been an unspoken understanding that the less people knew about it, the better off they'd all be. "It was a research lab," Bucky said, and he left it at that. They didn't need to elaborate what kind of research, because Steve knew that any research Hydra was doing was bad news. The only way they'd had of making sure that none of the research was recovered was by getting rid of the entire building. Whatever hadn't been destroyed in the initial blast was then rendered unrecoverable when the roof collapsed on top of it all.

Steve glanced between the two of them. He knew that basic research wouldn't have gotten this reaction, but Hydra didn't do 'basic' research; there wasn't any point in being an evil organization if you were going to be moral with your experiments. Tony could see it on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to ask what kind of research, but none of it made it out of his mouth. "Okay. You know the speech. Don't do it again, formal apology if Agent Coulson says it's required, all that crap."

"Done," Bucky said immediately, and Tony gave Steve another soft kiss in thanks. They both knew that Steve was on their side for stuff like this, but sometimes he wanted so badly to be a good Captain America that it muddied the waters.

+1. Half-heart, Half-bomb

"I guess that's one explosion you finally don't have to worry about," Tony joked with a tremulous smile.

Steve smiled back, just as weakly. They were both pretending. Tony wondered how long that would last before Steve couldn't take it anymore and worried over him in a more obvious manner. It would probably last all the way up until they were back home, with the doors shut and no outside eyes on them. Then he was going to worry like the world's biggest mother hen. For now though, Tony was grateful for him trying.

The whir of the quinjet was comforting to him now like it had never been before. Tony didn't know what was wrong with him. He'd been in dangerous situations a hundred times before, as Iron Man. Hell, he'd been in more dangerous situations than the one he'd just gotten rescued from.

The problem, he guessed, was that... well, this one hit closer to home. It was the arc reactor. It was a part of him. Having that be turned against him felt like a betrayal, somehow.

Since becoming Iron Man, he'd done his fair share of starting fires and creating explosions-- more than his fair share, if you asked Steve. With Obadiah, he'd used the first arc reactor that Howard had built as a bomb. A small one, considering the amount of firepower it had, but a bomb all the same. To see the same thing happen to his own had been nothing short of a nightmare. The kind of nightmare that woke you up in the middle of the night, shaking and clammy. He'd woken up from a drugged sleep and seen wires coming out of his chest. He hadn't been convinced that it wasn't a vivid hallucination, at first, but it hadn't stopped him from panicking.

They got to the Tower, headed inside, and went straight to their room. Well, officially it was Tony's room, but it was only a matter of time before Steve moved in.

"You want to talk about it?" Steve asked.

Tony rubbed over the arc reactor reflexively. He couldn't feel any sensation from it, but he could feel the heel of his palm on one side, and the tips of his fingers on the other. The fact that his palm wasn't skipping over emptiness did quite a bit to reassure him that he was fine. The problem, of course, was that he already knew he was fine. He was here, and he wasn't in pain. Steve was here, and they weren't in a battle. He knew that everything was fine.

Now if he could just stop freaking out about it.

"It wasn't even a good bomb," Tony said, the words slipping out of his mouth one after another. "Like, can you imagine making a bomb out of someone's pacemaker, so it would kill them, but you're not even going to get the destruction radius that you want? The arc reactor has so much energy that you could easily level a city block, but with the way they did it, it wouldn't have gone more than ten feet. It wouldn't have made it through a wall if I'd been standing right next to it. What kind of bullshit villain do you have to be to not know how to properly make a bomb? The only one it would've killed was- me, and- it's not like there aren't easier ways of- doing that. It's like-" He was having trouble breathing now. He was talking himself into a panic.

Steve wrapped him up in a hug, and Tony hid his face against Steve's neck. "They're stupid, you're not. We're gonna wake up tomorrow and get to do whatever the hell we want, and they won't be able to. It's gonna be okay. We all know you're better at this than anyone else, right?" he added on the end, smiling a little to try and raise Tony's spirits even though he couldn't see him; Tony always said that he loved Steve's smile.

"Yeah." He took a shaky breath in. It was weird; he felt like he was closer to falling apart now than he'd been while it was happening. Once he'd figured out that he wasn't trapped in the middle of a nightmare, he'd been able to deal with it. Grace under pressure or something, he guessed. It didn't make much sense to him for why he should be so calm then only to fall into pieces now. And he did. Fall into pieces, that is.

Steve just held him and said, "You're safe now. I've got you."

He didn't cry, not really. Mostly he stood there, shaking and clinging to Steve like a lifeline. He knew that he'd feel better by tomorrow, but for now, he let himself feel bad.

[heyitssmiller]

Chop It Like It’s Hot

Chapter 8: Penne for Your Thoughts

Food and shenanigans. Need I say more?

Tag List: @peanut-in-the-goal @whataboutmyfries @raxelle-nite-in-gale @heyoitslysso @spookydiyharrypotterbat

Chop It Like It’s Hot Masterlist

@lumosinlove

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“When you said you were cooking for an entire hockey team, I thought you’d stick to the basics. Maybe a salad appetizer and something easy to make that feeds a lot of people.” Dorcas looked around at Leo’s countertops, which were covered in flour, measuring cups, and homemade pasta. “This seems a little overboard.”

Leo rolled out more pasta dough and mentally took note of the different kinds he’d made so far. Linguine, fettuccine, penne, pappardelle, farfalle…

“Leo.”

“I just want it to be good, ok?” He finally looked up from his dough and rolling pin and stopped cooking for the first time in several hours. “Besides, this is a good outlet for me. If I focus on cooking, I don’t have to focus on-” He cut himself off, then added lamely, “Anything else.”

Dorcas sighed. “That’s not how you face your problems and you know it. Talk to me.”

Leo didn’t even fight back about talking about his problems. That was Dorcas’ first clue about how bad this was.

“I can’t do it.” He rubbed at his forehead in frustration. “I can’t be ok with being just friends. I can’t be ok with taking a step back and distancing myself. I can’t be ok with trying to get over them. And I don’t know where that leaves me.”

“I only see one other option here. Talking to them.”

“They’re already perfectly happy together-”

“And who says they won’t be with you?” Dorcas demanded. “You’re only imagining two possible outcomes – talking to them and being rejected, or not talking to them and keeping this a secret. But they could also be in the same position you’re in right now. The only way you’re going to know is if you talk to them.”

“I don’t think I can do that, either. Even if they feel the same, that doesn’t change the fact that they are in love with each other. I can’t get between that.” He laughed dully, and the sound tore at her heart. “My mama would kill me if I became a home-wrecker.”

“Who said love is only between two people? Leo, I know you know this. So why is it so hard to grasp now?”

She could see the second he began to shut down and sighed. “I’m going to hug you now, okay?”

“Okay.”

Dorcas wrapped her arms around him and glared at the wall. She was ninety percent sure Logan and Finn both felt the same way and clearly none of them were going to bring it up.

So now it was her turn. And she didn’t hold back her punches.

Those two hockey players were going to get a severe talking-to tomorrow.

“You guys have to promise to be more well-behaved tonight.” Logan told the team as they drove to dinner. Next to him, Finn was nearly bouncing out of his seat in excitement. “Please.”

He got several grumbles in response, but no teasing – which was a surprise.

“So are you two finally going to ask him out?”

And there it was.

“Are you guys finally going to mind your own business?”

“Nope!”

“It’s not like we don’t want to.” Finn sighed. “We just don’t know if he’s interested.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“He’s cooking your entire hockey team dinner. That’s dedication right there.”

“Also did you even watch the episodes of your show?”

“You just had to go and run your mouth.” Logan groaned, shooting Finn a look. He just shrugged apologetically as their charter bus pulled into the parking lot.

“Do you know what’s for dinner?” Someone asked from the back of the bus.

“He said it was a surprise.” Finn responded as they all filed out of the bus and inside the restaurant that had been kind enough to host them.

Leo and Dorcas were standing in front of several tables covered in food, which took Finn back to three months ago. He smiled broadly and waved at the two of them. Leo waved back and waited for everyone to settle down before explaining dinner.

“I figured a build your own dinner was probably the best idea for so many people. I hope pasta’s alright with you guys.” Leo said, then began pointing to each variation of noodle as he explained, “We’ve got regular noodles, gluten-free noodles, and then some cauliflower noodles for y’all to choose from. Then we’ve got sauces and proteins to choose from, including some vegetarian and vegan options. Everything is labeled, so go ahead and grab a plate and help yourselves!”

Everyone clambered to get in line and grabbed portions that were way to big for the day before a game. Their nutritionist watched on in horror.

Finn was watching Leo talk to Loops when Logan nudged him with his elbow. “Finn, look.”

“Hmm?” He asked, turning back around to look at what Logan was pointing to. There in front of them was a pot full of creamy white sauce, bacon, and sausage with a little label that read: carbo’hara.

Finn melted.

He’d told Leo that joke during their first conversation and how he and his brother would have it the night before every hockey game as kids. And he had remembered.

“Logan.” Finn said, not bothering to hide the yearning in his voice.

“I know.”

Dorcas was watching all of this with growing frustration. Were they blind or were they just stupid? All of this could be solved so easily with a single conversation, but none of them were willing to take that first step.

She really shouldn’t get involved. It wasn’t her business. But-

“It’s painful to watch, isn’t it?” A stranger’s voice asked. Dorcas turned to look at a girl with blonde hair and mischievous brown eyes. She stuck her hand out.

“I’m Marlene. And I just want to say that I am so sorry you’ve had to deal with the three of them for months now.”

Dorcas smiled and shook her hand. “So you’ve noticed, too?”

“I think everyone has.”

“True.”

“You’re thinking about interfering?”

Dorcas shrugged. “It’s either that or waiting for them to get their acts together.”

“And who knows how long that’ll take?”

Dorcas laughed, looking appraisingly at her new companion. “I like you already.”

The other girl grinned. “I told Leo when he was in Gryffindor that he should introduce us. He said it was a terrible idea.”

She smiled back. “He was right.”

“So I’ll take Leo, you take the other two? I’m assuming you’ve been trying to talk to Leo but haven’t had any luck.”

“He’s being really stubborn about the whole thing.”

“From all the complaining I’ve heard from the team, so have Logan and Finn.”

Dorcas rolled her eyes. “After dinner I’ll talk to them. Normally I wouldn’t interfere, but this is ridiculous.”

“Agreed. Good luck.”

“You too.”

“Hey,” Marlene spoke up, “Can I have your number? You know, for meddling purposes.”

Dorcas grinned. “I really hope that’s not the only reason you’re asking for my number.”

“Guess you’ll have to see.” Marlene said with a wink.

Oh, boy.

Dorcas was in so much trouble.

But she had other things to focus on right now.

She marched over to Finn and Logan and stated firmly, “You two. We need to talk.”

A dark-haired guy in glasses sent her a wide-eyed stare. “You’re terrifying.” He looked to his teammates. “What did you guys do?”

“Now.” Dorcas said, ignoring the others entirely.

“Rest in peace.” Glasses guy said solemnly as Logan and Finn got up nervously. “It was nice knowing you.”

Logan shared a worried glance with Finn, but they both followed her to a quiet hallway where she turned to glare at them.

“Are you two actually interested in Leo or are you just stringing him along? If it’s the latter I won’t hesitate to punch you.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Logan asked, then frowned. “Fuck, does he think we’re stringing him along?”

“So you are interested?”

Finn looked confused. “I thought that was obvious.”

“What’s the holdup, then?”

“We’re not sure he’s interested.” They shared a sad look. “He’s never given us any reason to think so.”

Dorcas pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh my god, you three are so stupid. It’s not that he doesn’t like you, trust me – he’s terrified. Think about it. He likes two guys who are already in love with each other, which would be daunting for anybody. And he’s worried that if one of you didn’t feel the same he’d come between the two of you and ruin everything. Not to mention that if he got rejected he’d be rejected not once but twice.”

They stared at her, then turned to stare at each other.

“Fuck.” Finn stated simply.

“Fuck is right.” Dorcas agreed. “Now what are you going to do about it?”

***

“You were so wrong when you said introducing me to Dorcas was a bad idea.”

Leo laughed and turned to face Marlene. “Hello again.”

“Hey, cooking guy. Anyways, I’m in love.”

“Oh, really?”

“She’s awesome. And terrifying. And I really want to take her out on a date.”

“If you hurt her-”

“Oh my god, are you giving me the shovel talk?”

“No. All I’m saying is that we had entire class of knife skills in culinary school. She knows how to properly butcher things. You hurt her, you’d better prepare for the consequences.”

Marlene blinked, then broke into a dopey grin. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

Leo laughed, shaking his head a little as he grabbed an empty pot and brought it back into the kitchen to clean. Dinner had been a huge success – almost to the point of them running out of food. Leo had noticed the nutritionist shooting him glares all night and made a resolution to send him an apology letter. He just hoped it didn’t affect their playing too much tomorrow.

He was scrubbing the pot down when another pot was set down on the counter next to him. Marlene shoved his shoulder to get him to move to the side a little. “Figured you could use some help.”

“Thanks.” He said with a smile as she grabbed a sponge.

“So,” She started, and that’s when Leo knew he was in trouble. “I know Dorcas talked to you earlier. And I’m sure you don’t want to hear any more of that, but I wanted to let you know that no matter what happens, it’s going to be okay. I mean, yeah, it might suck for a while, but at the end of the day wouldn’t you rather know than be left guessing forever?”

Leo stopped cleaning out his pot and looked at her, surprised at the turn this conversation took.

She shrugged. “Just a thought.”

He’d never really considered it that way before.

There was a knock on the doorframe, which startled them both. Leo turned around to see the head coach standing there.

“We’ve got to head out soon to get to our hotel at a decent time. Thank you so much for dinner! My guys will be talking about this for months.”

“I’d be happy to do it again sometime.” Leo said, then winced. “Maybe something with a more controlled portion size, though.”

The coach laughed. “That might be for the best.”

After all the goodbyes, Logan and Finn were the last two inside, seemingly reluctant to leave. Leo took that as a good sign.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Logan asked, green eyes hopeful. “At the game?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” The bus driver honked the horn, clearly fed-up with waiting. “You’d better go before they leave you behind.”

Logan and Finn gave one last wave before heading towards the door while Leo began making his way back to the kitchen.

“Hey!” Logan called suddenly. Leo turned back around to look at them. “Can we take you out to dinner tomorrow? After the game?”

Leo’s stomach churned at the wording. He gathered up all his courage, took a deep breath, and asked, “Is this a date?”

Finn and Logan beamed. Leo’s heart skipped a beat.

“I sure hope so.”