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hischierhoney · 2 months

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OFF LIMITS

nico hischier x hughes sister!reader

part 2: I Know available now!

It’s not the first time they’ve run into you on a night out, and Nico’s pretty sure it won’t be the last. You live in New York, close enough that your paths overlap quite often. It is, however, the first time he’s seen you this drunk. On top of that, it’s the first time Nico’s run into you without your brothers with him.

Jack may be younger than you, but what he lacks in age he makes up for in overprotectiveness. When they run into you at a bar, Nico rarely gets a chance to even say a word to you before Jack is questioning how much you’ve had to drink or why you’re even out in the first place.

But Jack is in Toronto, for the All Stars game, and Luke’s still too young to be out at a bar and is also out of town, and you’re there, standing under a neon sign, leaning up against the wall. You look hazy. Out of it. There’s a guy standing nearly over you, arm next to your head on the wall. Nico’s stomach twists.

“Isn’t that Hughes’ sister?” Someone asks.

Nico nods, juts his chin at the scene unfolding. “Does she look uncomfortable to you?”

His teammate lets out a snort. “Was wondering the same thing.”

Nico keeps a watchful eye on the situation for just a moment. He doesn’t want to overstep, but something feels off. When you put your hand on the guy’s shoulder and try to push him away, and he stays put, caging you in farther, the switch flips. He’s gone from concerned friend to overprotective captain within a second. He passes his beer off to someone and makes his way across the bar in a few short steps.

“Hey man. Back off.” He snaps.

The guy turns with a glare. Nico stands his ground. Your eyes meet his, and he watches relief wash over your face. He knows then that he’s made the right choice.

“I saw her first,” the guy sneers.

Nico really didn’t want to get in a fight tonight. He was supposed to have a chill night out with the guys, maybe talk to a couple girls, get his mind off of… things. But now he’s here.

“Nico,” you say, softly, and he watches the guy’s face drop as he realizes you know Nico.

“Hi,” he says, kindly and quietly to you. He juts his chin at the guy and shoves his shoulder firmly. “Get lost.”

The man melts away into the crowd. Nico watches him go. Then he turns back to you, to where you’re leaning against the wall, doe eyed and drunk as hell as you stare up at him. His breath gets caught in his throat for just a moment- if your brothers knew the things he thought about when you looked at him like that, they’d have his head. Jack and Luke are a bit oblivious, he thinks. He’s lucky he’s not around you and Quinn at the same time very often. There was that game last year, in Vancouver- you in your Devils jersey, elbowing him lightly, and Quinn’s glare trained on him, one raised brow, like he was just waiting for Nico to take a wrong step.

“My hero,” you say, reaching out to tug on his wrist.

Your words are extremely slurred, and when he gets a closer look he realizes you’re probably close to blacking out. The light is gone from your eyes. He winces.

“Okay, schatz,” he says. He ruffles your hair just to get you to stop staring up at him through your eyelashes, afraid of the way it makes his heart jump. “Can I call someone to come get you?”

You shrug. “Where’s Jacky? Or Lukey?”

Nico groans. “Toronto, and who knows. Not here, though.”

You purse your lips. “Right.” You dig in your pocket for your phone, find it, and Nico watches you try and turn the screen on with no luck- it’s dead. “Huh. That’s not good.”

And… Nico could call one of your brothers. Could ask for some sort of phone number- a roommate or a friend or anyone. But as you stare up at him, you lean away from the wall and fall into his chest, and he knows he needs to act quickly. Preferably before you pass out at the bar.

…..

You don’t remember the walk out of the bar, or the car ride, or the elevator up to the apartment that you’re sure you must’ve taken. Your world zaps back into focus on the entryway of Nico’s apartment. You’ve been here twice- both for parties. It’s different when it’s not full of people. Feels more like Nico.

You toe your shoes off in the doorway. Nico swipes them to the side with his foot and then reaches out to catch you when you stumble. You lean into his shoulder and laugh- he smells good, like honey and whiskey. You want to breathe him in. He laughs, too- you can tell by the way his broad shoulders shake.

He leads you out of the entryway and into the kitchen. He grabs you by your hips to maneuver you, and you nearly squeal at the feeling of his fingers splayed against your body. Instead, when he moves you to lean against the counter, you sigh. You brace yourself, elbows on the granite, and stare up at him as he moves through the room.

“Stop staring at me like that,” he says in a warning tone.

“Like what?” You ask, innocently.

If he’d look at you, you’d bat your eyelashes at him. But he’s not looking, and you’re not going to waste your energy. He has his head in the fridge, an empty glass in his hand. He returns with a pitcher of water and pours it into the glass before sliding it over to you.

He never clarifies what he means by staring like that. You want to circle back to it, but you’re getting really tired, and the water is cool and refreshing. You laugh when you spill a little bit, the water running down your chin and neck. Nico just groans and rolls his eyes.

“You’re drunk,” he states, like you both didn’t already know it.

You nod. “I had a lotta tequila.”

He gives you a look of exasperation mixed with affection. “Trying to forget?”

You shrug. “Something like that.”

Once you’ve finished the glass, he starts maneuvering you again, hands on your shoulders this time as he walks you down the hallway. You wonder what it would be like to have him do this all the time- maybe when you’re not drunk. Does he manhandle his girlfriends, his dates, like this? Maybe manhandle isn’t the right word. You don’t feel handled, you feel… taken care of. Like he’s making sure you’re exactly where you should be. It’s sweet. It makes you shiver just a little bit.

He mistakes the movement for a chill, and he rubs his hands up and down your shoulders. You sigh. The two of you step into the bathroom, and he digs through the drawer until he finds a new toothbrush and toothpaste, and he hands them both to you.

You stumble your way towards the bedroom five minutes later, his hands on your hips again. He pushes open the door to his bedroom and leads you to the bed, having you sit down on the edge while he heads for the dresser. You look around. You’ve been to his place, but never here. It’s… calm. Quiet. The sheets and duvet beneath you are soft, and the lamp next to the bed casts a warm glow over everything. He has trophies taking up space on his desk. The bed is unmade, blankets rumpled and messy.

“Always wondered what your room looked like,” you say.

His shoulders tense, though he shakes it out a few moments after. “Yeah?”

You nod, forgetting he isn’t looking at you, and then supplement with words. “Can learn a lot about a person from their bedroom.”

He laughs and looks over his shoulder at you. “What have you learned, then?”

You shrug and cast your eyes to the ceiling. He goes back to rifling through the drawers. You flop backwards onto the end, laughing lightly at the way it bounces beneath you.

Something lands on your stomach- a large t-shirt and a pair of shorts. You pick them up and hold them above your head.

“Get changed,” he says. When you lean up to look at him, the whole room spins. He sighs, like he can tell. “I’ll be back in a second, okay?”

…..

Nico nearly panics five minutes later, because he knocks on the door to ask if you’re decent and you don’t answer. He’s torn between worry about seeing something he shouldn’t, and worry about you dying- one of them trumps the other, so he shoves his way into the room frantically.

You’re laid out on the bed, swallowed up by his t-shirt, the drawstring of the shorts pulled tight around your waist. Your lips are just barely parted, soft sighs escaping with each rise and fall of your chest. You’re asleep. He could leave you, but right now you’re asleep on your back, and very drunk, and he’s worried you’re going to throw up and- they warned him about that, years ago, when he first started going to parties. Friends don’t let friends sleep on their backs.

He crawls up onto the bed and tucks you into the blankets. Then he rolls you onto your side, and sighs when you immediately try to roll back onto your back. He repeats the process, and this time you groan loudly in response. Without really thinking about it, he sits down on the bed behind you and props his leg against your back. That seems to keep you in place- you lean into the warmth but you don’t try to roll over again.

So. That’s great, except, now he’s stuck. Realistically, he was going to stay anyways. If he was the last person to see you and something awful happened, he’d never forgive himself, and neither would your brothers. So it’s fine, really, that you’re leaning against him, but… you’re warm, and breathing softly, and your hair is strewn all over the pillowcase, and god, he hates the way it all makes him blush.

He can’t do anything about it, especially not now, with the state you’re in. So he just sits and watches you sleep, the way he’s sort of always dreamed about.

Hours later, Nico’s woken from a half asleep state by a loud noise- it’s his cell phone, ringing on the nightstand. He scrambles to pick up, blinking blearily at the screen. 4:53 am, and Jack is calling him. He wouldn’t normally answer, but it’s Jack, and by now he’s probably heard about you, so he swipes to take the call.

“It’s not even 5am, Jack,” he says softly.

“Hischier.” A voice returns- it’s not Jack.

“Quinn.” He replies, carefully.

He keeps his voice low. His gaze flickers down to you. You’re asleep -on your side, thank god- one arm wrapped around his leg. He swallows tightly and carefully brushes a stray piece of hair from your face. You don’t stir.

“It’s not even 5am,” he repeats.

Quinn scoffs. “I know. Woke up to go do some early morning training, and imagine my surprise when I see about ten texts from various people telling me you took my baby sister home with you last night.”

Right. Everybody knows everybody in the NHL. Nico rolls his eyes. You’re older than both Jack and Luke- you’re not a baby. He refrains from saying that, though- knowing it’ll only upset Quinn more. He may sound relatively calm now, but Nico can sense the undercurrent of tension.

“It’s not like that,” Nico says.

“Right. And you’re just whispering for the fun of it, then? Not because you’re afraid to wake her?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “She was wasted. I brought her back here to keep an eye on her. Did they tell you about how I nearly punched a guy to get him to leave her alone?”

He hears Quinn falter whatever he was going to say next. Then he speaks up again. “Doesn’t explain why you’re close enough to her right now that you’d need to be whispering.”

“I was worried she was going to choke on her own vomit,” Nico says curtly. “So I stayed up most of the night making sure she stayed on her side.”

“Right, sure, by what- curling up with her?” Quinn sneers.

Nico slumps down against the headboard. “Jesus, Hughes. You trusted me to take care of your brothers. You said that yourself. You can’t trust me with this?”

“It’s a bit different and we both know it,” Quinn says.

Nico figures that’s fair. If it was his sister… he understands. He just wishes Quinn would give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Look, man. Nothing happened. I swear to you, I wouldn’t ever do anything to harm her, alright? We ran into her at a bar, she was wasted and by herself and trying to push some guy away and he wasn’t letting up. So I put a stop to it, and we couldn’t call any of her friends because her phone was dead. And not sure if you’ve noticed, but your brothers are out of town. I didn’t want to leave her alone.”

He hears Quinn sigh. “You just happened to be there to save the day?”

Nico groans, this time a bit too loudly. You shift next to him, and suddenly you’re awake, blinking up at him with soft eyes. His heart catches in his chest. You wrinkle your nose, likely in confusion at the sight of him on the phone at 5am. He mouths your brother’s name, and your confusion only grows. You gesture for the phone.

“Quinn,” you say, sleepily. “It’s 5am. Why the fuck are you calling?”

Nico can’t hear what your brother is saying anymore- a welcome reprieve, really. You roll your eyes and he holds back a laugh. When he meets your gaze, you’re fighting a laugh, too, he thinks.

“So you called because you were checking on me, right?” You ask, blinking up at Nico. “Not to harass my friend, right? Because that would be a rude thing to do at 5am, you know.”

You’re quiet for a few more moments. Then you yawn and roll your eyes again. “Okay. Well. I’m fine. I’m going back to bed. Goodnight.”

You hang up on him. Nico’s torn between laughter and panic, wondering if Quinn’s going to call again. The phone stays silent in your hand, though. He takes it from you, sets it down on the nightstand carefully. Your arm wraps back around his leg, and he tries not to let it make him sigh in relief.

“Sorry about him,” you say, quietly. “He’s like a guard dog. But one of those little yappy ones.”

Nico laughs. “Ankle biter.”

You nod and laugh, too. “Why’d you even answer?”

Nico drags a hand down his face. “He called from Jack’s phone.”

“Sneaky little bitch,” you scoff.

He shrugs. “To be fair, I probably should’ve at least let someone know where you were. If I’d woken up to a message about my sister like the one Quinn probably got…” he scrubs at the hair on his jaw. “Not sure I’d have reacted differently.”

You huff- your warm breath washes over his leg. “You hockey players are a bunch of gossips, you know that?”

He grumbles at that, not even giving it a real response. He slumps down further against the headboard, eyes feeling heavy, head feeling even heavier. You pat your hand against his knee and sigh.

“You should lay down,” you mumble.

He sighs. “Yeah. If you’re feeling okay I can go to the couch. Didn’t want to leave you alone, I was scared you’d throw up.”

You stare up at him. He stares right back. Pretty eyes. God, your brothers would kill him.

“No, like, just- lay down,” you tell him, patting the bed next to you. “It’s your bed.”

His heart does a somersault. His stomach follows suit. He shouldn’t. Jack will punch him, Luke will deliver the final blow, and then Quinn will fly down from Canada to stomp on his grave. But he’s exhausted, and the bed is comfy, and you… you’re there, like he’s always dreamed. He won’t touch you. He’ll just lay down right next to you, barely under the blankets, plenty of space between the two of you in his big bed. It’ll be fine.

…..

You wake up hours later with a raging headache and your head against Nico’s chest. You nearly panic until you remember who he is. Then you worry he’ll think it’s weird, having you pressed against him like this, but you realize his arm is wrapped tightly around your waist. He’s strong. You know that, but it’s different to feel it for yourself, the way the thick muscle presses against your back. His cheek is resting on top of your head, too, and he’s just barely snoring, soft sounds through his lips.

You’d stay right there forever if your head didn’t hurt so bad.

When you try to wiggle free, he holds on tighter, groaning softly. You try to pry his arm off your waist and he grunts this time. When he finally wakes up enough to be somewhat coherent, he doesn’t let go.

“Whatimesit?” He asks groggily, lips brushing against your forehead.

“Dunno,” you admit. “Head hurts. S’there ibuprofen in your cupboard?”

He groans softly and then peels his arm away. Before you can make a move, he rolls out of bed and stumbles towards the bathroom. You watch him go and try to pretend you don’t shiver at the roll of his back muscles beneath his t-shirt. He comes back with a glass of water and pills in his hands.

You fight a laugh at the sight of him, sleep rumpled and groggy, brows furrowed tightly. You push yourself up to sit up, leaning on your left hand and rubbing your eyes sleepily with your right. He hands over the water and the pills. You take them eagerly.

You blink up at him after you down the whole glass and cock your head. “Did I dream that Quinn called?”

Nico snorts and sits down on the edge of the bed. “Nope. That was real life.”

You roll your eyes. “Overprotective asshole.”

Nico laughs at that, eyes slipping closed. “Like I said. If I were him, I’d have had the same reaction.”

You let yourself fall back down to the bed. “Right, like you’d ever…” you cut yourself off with a laugh. “I mean, he and Jack and Luke are always so worried about teammates being into me or something. It’s ridiculous.”

Nico laughs, but it sounds hollow. You lay on the bed and stare at the ceiling. You’re already planning how you’re going to chew Quinn out for this one.

“I don’t blame him,” Nico says, quieter this time. “Just wish he wouldn’t have called so early.”

You close your eyes. “He’s annoying. Why’s he worried? Like… none of you guys have ever shown any interest in me, so. ”

Your lack of dating hockey players is not for lack of trying. There’d been Quinn’s teammates in college, and Jack’s from the other teams, too. You’ve had crushes that you’ve eventually let fizzle out after getting nothing in return. Nico’s the only crush that’s stuck around this long. Because despite the fact that you can barely even call him your friend, sometimes he pulls shit like this- taking you back to his place and staying up late to take care of you, fielding phone calls from your protective older brother. Nico’s a giant human teddy bear. You think at this point it’s gone beyond a crush.

“Why d’you think that is?” Nico asks, breaking you from your train of thought.

“Why do I think what is?” You reply.

You swear you feel his hand brush against your wrist.

“That none of us ever show any interest?” He says.

He’s quiet. Quieter, at least. More tentative. Softer. You pry one eye open and look up at him, and you swear he’s blushing. Hm.

“Because…you’re not- nobody’s interested?” You say, softer than even him.

He tilts his head. Your mouth feels dry.

“You remember the first Devils game you came to?” He asks. You nod, and he continues. “Before the game, in the locker room, Jack mentioned his sister was going to be there, and, well, you know how hockey players are. Couple people made comments about wanting to meet you, asked if you’d be at the afterparty. Jack made it pretty clear you were off limits. And, you know. Guys do that shit all the time, get overprotective over their sisters, and it’s never been, you know, an issue. Half the time I don’t even meet the guys’ family, you know?”

He trails off and scrubs his hand through his hair. You watch him closely.

“But that night, after the game, I was leaving and I saw… this girl. This beautiful girl. And she was wearing a Hughes jersey, and I was…” he laughs and closes his eyes. “I was coming up with all these stupid pick up lines, about how I was better than him, and I was walking towards her, and I swear I looked away for a second and then Jack was there. Hugging you, and glaring at me over your shoulder. I got the message.”

You reach up and pinch the bridge of your nose. “I hate my brothers.”

Nico laughs. “In Luke’s defense…”

“Don’t defend any of them, Luke’s the worst of them, he’s just quiet about it,” you scoff. “He chased my college boyfriend out of my dorm with a hockey stick.”

Nico laughs. You laugh, too, but you shake your head. He nudges his knee against yours. When his thumb brushes against your wrist this time, you open your eyes. That blush is there, soft and rosy on his cheeks.

“So you get it, then,” he says, head tilted as he blinks down at you. His hair is falling over his forehead messily. “Why I’ve never made a move.”

You’re so busy trying to process all the information of the day that you almost miss it. Why I’ve never made a move. It could’ve been a fleeting moment, just a quick crush when he saw you the first time, but something about this tells you it’s not. He presses his thumb to your pulse point on your wrist, and the warmth of his hand on your skin makes you shiver slightly. You stare up at him and chew on your lower lip.

“I think you should ask me about my limits,” you say, quietly. “They’re a lot different than my brothers’, you know.”

The grin on Nico’s face grows wider. “S’that so?”

You nod eagerly. He lets out a low, slow breath, like he’s bracing for impact. Something in your chest aches. He plants a hand next to your head and leans towards you, and your heart leaps in your throat.

“What’re your limits on kissing hockey players?” He asks. His other hand comes up and cups the side of your face. He brushes his thumb against your Cupid’s bow. “Y’know. If the opportunity were to come up.”

You shrug. “Would depend on the player, I suppose.”

He nods in understanding, pursing his lips. “How about… hm. 6’1”, brown hair, brown eyes. Team captain. Nice guy, I guess. Would definitely make sure you got home safe from the bar.”

You reach up and draw a hesitant line on his jaw with your fingertip. “Team captain, huh? I do like a man in charge.”

He nods. You nod back. For a moment, the two of you sit in limbo.

In the end, you’re the one to wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself up to kiss him. When you do, though, he responds eagerly. He cages you in with both arms, and as you melt for him, he does the same for you. It’s a sweet kiss, one full of hope and excitement. You’re surrounded by him, by his arms and his touch and the smell of him on the sheets. You’ve never been more happy you ran into him at a bar than in that very moment.

…..

You’re back in that same bar from weeks ago, standing under the very same neon light. Except this time, there’s no guy hovering over you, and this time, you and Nico both know the other is going to be there. He’s at the bar, pretending he’s just noticed you, smiling and waving as he orders. You shake your empty cup at him, and he nods.

He wanders over a few minutes later, drinks in hand. He leans against the wall next to you and hands you the cup. The neon light glows bright on his dark hair. You sip your drink and smile up at him. Politely. Friendly. Nothing more. He’s a polite, friendly distance away. There’s space between the two of you.

“If we’re gonna make this believable, you’re going to have to come say hello to the rest of the team,” he says.

You nod. “In a minute.”

Across the bar, one of his teammates is yelling about a game on the screen. For now, you want just a minute with Nico. A moment for just the two of you. One where he’s not your brothers’ team captain, but your boyfriend instead.

The word feels new in your brain, would feel even newer on your lips if you said it. So far, you’ve only tried it out a couple times- when he asked the question, and then after that in the bathroom mirror, a wide grin on your face. You haven’t told anyone else. Nico’s worried about Jack and Luke’s reactions, and the season’s almost done- he wants to wait to tell them afterwards, when the results of a game won’t rest so heavily on how they take the news. It’s been a lot of staying in dates, movie nights at home on his couch, which both of you are partial to anyways. And lots of this, too- seemingly chance meetings at local bars, quick texts from him telling you where he’s headed with his friends and you showing up, purely coincidental to anyone other than him.

Eventually, you follow him through the crowd of people to a secluded corner full of hockey players. You spot your brothers, blissfully unaware, nursing matching beers. Just before everyone catches sight of the two of you, Nico sneaks a hand back and squeezes yours. You smile brightly.

“Look who I found!” Nico calls out.

He moves his grip on your hand to your wrist, raises your arm like you’ve won a fight. You laugh and shake your arm free of his hold. You’re met with cheers from the team, loudest of all from your brothers. You can wait to tell them. For now, the way he smiles at you is more than enough.

…..

“Should we just tell them we know they’re… a thing?” Luke asks.

Jack shakes his head, watching you and Nico. “Nah. Let ‘em sweat. She’ll slip up eventually, or he’ll start to freak out.” He sees Nico reach to grab your hip, then pull back at the last second like he’s been burned. A mix of disgust and amusement passes through him- you’re his sister, after all. “Jesus, dunno why they think they’re fooling anyone.”

Jack’s known since the day he got back and saw you at lunch. You’d been overly happy but basically refused to talk about your impromptu stay at Nico’s. Then, he’d seen Nico at practice, and he’d been much the same. By the time the team had gone out to a bar and you mysteriously happened to show up, he’d had his suspicions and had relayed them to Luke. They’d watched you and Nico leave the bar together one night when you thought nobody was looking.

Luke laughs. “Okay, but, when do we tell Quinn?”

Jack turns to him with wide eyes. “We don’t! D’you want our captain to die?”

Luke directs his gaze back towards you and the aforementioned captain. Jack follows suit and tries not to roll his eyes. The two of you aren’t touching, but the smiles on your faces say it all.

“I mean,” Luke starts quietly. “They’re kind of cute. And we want them to be happy, right?”

“Don’t even start,” Jack says firmly.

He’ll let it go for now, in the interest of finishing out the season on a good note. But after that, all bets are off. Definitely. Probably. Jack’s the one who set the rules, who declared you off limits, and he’ll stick to his word.

No matter how much the two of you together are starting to grow on him.

Part 2: I Know

if you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading! i hope you’ve enjoyed

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier fanfic #Nico hischier fic #Nico hischier fluff #Nico hischier oneshot #Nico hischier fanfiction #Nico hischier imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl oneshot #nhl fluff

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angelltheninth · 11 months

Note

begging you for ak!jason x hero reader hate sex pls imagining it is not enough i need to read it and inject it into my brain 😁

Pairing: AK!Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, table sex, secret relationship, hate sex, banter, enemies who fuck, age-gap, pussy slapping, clit stimulation, size difference, name-calling, degradation, size kink, condom use, body betrayal, Reader is Batman's new ally

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: I wanted this to be short but I got carried away, evil Jason was just too hot.

Jason smirked at you, his armor leaving indents on your thighs as they were spread out for him. "Wipe that smirk of you face already, its disturbing." You push your hand against him, of which he bites the fingers off one by one as the table under you shakes from the force of his deep, hard thrusts. "Fuck! Are you trying to break the table?"

"No, just you." He pushes closer, his hands on your hips, encouraging you to roll your hips with him. You try not to, you try not to give him the satisfaction of it, but can't resist him, "What would Bruce say if he knew his new friend was spreading her legs for me? Bet he'd be really angry with you. Yeah, I'm thinking... a little spanking for the naughty girl."

"Bruce wouldn't- ah, fuck, oh!" You grabbed onto the edge of the table, your cowl fully slipping, your face revealed, eyes widening. "D-Don't look at me you motherfucker, this is just-" He slapped your pussy again before pressing his fingers against your clit.

Your hips rose from the table to meet his thrusts, the echoing sounds filling the storage house. The weapons you used lay aside, the condom wrapper glistening in the dim light. At least he remembered that not wanting a repeat of you denying him like last time.

Last time. "We should stop doing this Jason. It' wrong." You were a hero, and him... something much darker, not a villain not yet but he was so close to that title.

"Yeah its real fucked up how easy you are. Letting me fuck you, coming all the time, screaming my name. But you have been distracting me more then usual. Maybe you should let every villain in this city fuck you, see if you can set them on the correct path. Then again, I am a very possessive man, I would kill any guy who wants this sweet hole. Its mine." Jason took your hands in one of his and pinned them down, "Keep them there, don't you dare move."

For some reason you listened. It was so shameful to obey him but had Jason's big, hard cock pumping in and out, making your body react.

"She obeys!" Jason boasted laugning.

"Fuck you." You still had the strength to flip him the bird.

"Aw that's adorable, is that the finger you use when you think of me?" You did. More then one finger because one wasn't nearly enough. "Bet you love having the real thing huh? Finally a man who knows what to do with a whore cunt like yours." He curled his finger over your clit, sending your back arching. "You think he's listening right now?"

No, the comms were off, you made sure of that. "N-No. He can't be."

"Then why is your pussy trembling so much? You want him to hear? Didn't know you let cockhungry sluts in your ranks these days Bruce. Must be real desperate. Poor little thing probably didn't even know how much of a slut she was." He spoke with an almost maniacal edge to his voice, his cock twitching inside you.

"S-Stop it. Its not true." You whimpered, getting all teary eyed.

"Yes. It. Is." He accompanied every word with a slap on your pussy, each sting making your head spin until a high pitched moan left your mouth, "Hear that Bruce?! That's your partner being my little whore!"

"I- I hate you." You managed to still bite back but your body didn't agree with your actions, and honestly you weren't sure your heart did either but that was easier to ignore when you were being pounded by Jason's cock. "I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you!" Jason was only spurred on by your words, fucking every inch of his fat cock into you until he felt your walls tighten. Despite your best efforts not to your body reacted to his, stars dancing behind your eyes, head spinning, only able to feel his cock still working between your legs and his fingers on your clit. "St-ah-op."

"But babygirl," Jason pulled out and took the condom off, letting the cum gather on the floor, "We still have the whole box of these to go through."

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princessbrunette · 18 days

Note

calling toxicex!rafe when you’re home alone and scared and he takes it as an opportunity to play hero and try and win you back ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍨 ⋅ ˚👛

one thing about rafe, if you call him he’s gonna pick up instantly.

“yeah?” he tries not to sound too excited.

“okay i hate that i have to do this, and don’t get any ideas but — i’m really scared right now ‘cos i swear i heard a sound outside my window n’i’m home alone and i just need you to come over and check just incase. please rafe i don’t know who else to call.” your poor little voice is quivering, all panicked and concerned and he can’t help but feel a sense of overwhelming pride. you were still his, even if you denied it.

“alright, you know i got you. stay put, yeah? i’ll be over there as fast as i can. you gonna be okay for another ten minutes?” he drawls, swinging his keys round his finger as he happily swaggers out the front door to his truck.

“mm… i think so. just hurry, please?” you let your guard down for a second, none of the usual sass or brattiness that you’d give him post-breakup to show him how well you’re doing without him — just pure vulnerability and fear, and he fucking loved it.

he shows up as quickly as possible, casually arriving at your door— making you jump when he knocks. he hears you fearful whimper through the door and bites back a smirk. “its me, kid. let me in.”

you have a moment of weakness when you swing the door open. maybe it’s the relief, or the way he’s standing there in a hoodie and sweat-shorts looking so cozy and unlike himself— but your eyes fill with tears, and you throw your arms around him. “oh god, i was so scared.” you sniffle and he beams, rubbing at your back.

“you’re fine, c’mon baby.” he hums, lifting you below your ass and walking you inside.

“rafe.” you groan at the cross of boundary, knowing that was too much affection for an ex.

“yeah yeah.” he puts you down and shuts your door. “so where’s this intruder, huh? or did you make that up to get me over here.” he teases, his hand staying on your back as you walk through to the living room.

“i swear i heard twigs snapping outside the window, it sounded like a person.” you pout and he snickers, shaking his head.

“probably the wind. or— or a raccoon or some shit.” he stuffs his hands into his pockets, watching you sit down on the couch. he stays standing, not sure what to do with himself. you physically relax at his words, realising how silly you’d been.

“yeah… i guess you’re right actually.” you sigh, before your eyes glance up at him. he suspected you felt okay enough to kick him out, and he couldn’t have that — so he jumps back into action.

“i don’t know, actually — you - you know, there’s some maniacs out there, right? maybe someone was watching you.” his mouth turns downward as he shrugs casually, watching the way your brows furrow.

“what? really?” that vulnerable voice was back. right where he wanted you. he nods, a faux concerned frown on his face as he scratches at his cheek casually, slowly rounding to sit down next to you on the couch.

“mm, yeah… yeah i think it’s… probably best i stay the night, right? safety in numbers and shit.” he drawls, voice low and raspy now that he was so close. your eyes flutter, wanting so badly not to give in — but the thought of staying the night alone was spooking you out, so you indulged yourself.

“…okay.” you agree unsurely, mirroring his nod without realising.

“yeah? you know i’ll protect you.”

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍨 ⋅ ˚👛

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #toxicex!rafe

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tashacee · 17 days

Note

It’s implied that Time and Aspect!Wild talked to each other about their moon related trauma, what was Time’s reaction to Wild describing the horrors of the blood moon? What was Wild’s reaction to Time talking about his adventure in Termina? How many of The Chain know about Termina?

I’m so curious and desperate to know how that conversation went. Could it maybe even be a short story please?

Look I know this is VERY overdue but i REALLY liked this idea and wanted to do it justice so

Aspects of the Moon

“So.” Time said, shuffling his feet. “The moon, huh?”

“Oh hell no, spooky-boy, you’re talking first, you were accusing me of being a moon-demon ten minutes ago. I deserve to know why.” Wild chuffed as he signed and flicked his tail to show that he wasn’t actually mad. But still. Sure, he’d spill his own moon trauma, but he absolutely deserved to hear Time’s first.

The old man sighed, raking a hand through his hair.

“Uh…” he said. “I… guess that’s fair.” he sighed and shook his head. “It… it’s really weird. You probably won’t believe me.”

“I came back from the dead. Multiple times.” Wild deadpanned.

Time chuckled. “I mean when you put it like that.” he laughed. “Fine. You win. So… when I was a kid. A real kid. Well. Sort of. I was ten, but it was after my first adventure, which took around two years all things considered, so I was also kind of twelve? But yeah, I was ten.”

“Time, what the fuck?” Wild held up his hands, blinking. “Were you ten or twelve, this isn’t that hard?”

Time snorted. “I’m the Hero of Time, Wild. It really is that hard. Now stop interrupting, this is my trauma I’m talking about here.”

Wild rolled his eyes jokingly, but waved for him to continue.

“Okay so. I fell into a tree and woke up in another world, called Termina. And everyone in Termina was freaking out ‘cause the moon was about to crash into the ground and kill them all. Actually that’s not true. A lot of them weren’t freaking out, they had other issues, which seemed a little short-sighted of them, but who am I to judge? Anyway, the moon kept getting closer - it had a face, by the way. The moon did. Big angry face. Very freaky -and after three days it crashed into the earth and killed everyone. So I rewound time to see if I could stop it. Um. It took a lot of times. Couple of years worth of three day cycles, but like, I kept resetting myself too so I was still ten. And then eventually I fought the moon and escaped. But yeah. That’s. That’s my issue with the moon.”

Wild stared at him.

“Time, what the fuck?”

“I did tell you the biggest thing I ever fought was the moon.”

“Yeah but I thought you were joking!”

“Clearly.”

“Fuck!”

“Yep.”

Wild nodded slowly, staring into the darkness of the woods around him. That was… wow. That was a lot. No wonder Time has issues. If even half of that was true - and Wild had no reason to doubt his brother’s word - then it was frankly astounding that he was functional at all.

“Okay. so.” Time leaned back against a tree. “What’s your story? Why do you hate the moon.”

Oh yeah. That had been the deal, hadn’t it. Time had told his sstory, so now Wild would tell his.

Ugh.

He shrugged.

“Not as dramatic as yours.” he admitted. “In my journeys - both of them, actually - every full moon rose red and Ganon’s power waxed in the air. His evil became visible rising from the ground and at the stroke of midnight, every monster that had been slain returned to life at once. You could hear them howl through the night all at once. It sucked serious ass.”

Time stared at him.

“All of the monsters?”

“Yep.”

“Even - even the big ones?”

“Sure did. Full moons… I don’t trust em.”

“No shit! No wonder you hate them!”

“Word.”

“Fuck.”

They sat in silence for a moment, both thinking about each others’ respective moon traumas. Then Wild pulled out his slate, flicked through a few sections, and pulled out his strongest bottle of whiskey, offering it to Time.

“Fuck the moon, amirite?”

Time grinned, accepting it. “Yeah. Fuck the moon!”

#it me #replies #hero’s aspect au #hero's aspect #my writing

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mechanicalpiper · 28 days

Text

Another snippet since I've got time to kill and a resurfacing interest to sate

A cocky Hero finally gets caught by Villain and both are *way* too happy about it :3

cw: also suggestive and also kidnapping

Snippet #2

The Villain could hardly contain themself.

After such a long time fighting the Hero, such a long time wanting the Hero... They could hardly believe they'd finally won.

They could hardly believe the hero was finally theirs.

But here they were, waiting eagerly for the sedated hero to finally wake up. Villain had them bound to a chair just as planned, arms and legs held firmly yet safely held against the chair's armrests and legs respectively with the soft silk rope they spent hours picking out in advance- the hero looked even prettier than they could've imagined! Just realizing it all again almost made them squeal in delight for probably the ninth time so far.

They wanted to have the Hero in this position for so, so very long. The person they'd been melting over in every fight they had, the one that caused the Villain to launch entire schemes just to draw them out and hear their adorable voice again, the one they'd imagined in this exact scenario so often- and here they were, completely at the Villain's mercy... their fate entirely out of their control...

Villain snapped out of the daydream hearing a small, precious groan from the Hero. They were finally waking up!

Villain shook their head to get back to reality, standing up, brushing their suit off a little, and moving to be standing in front of the Hero, not too close yet still towering over them ominously. Villain loved the feeling of being the one on top; loved the feeling of being the one in Control. Not in control of the city, what they'd always said was their end goal, but in control of the one thing they'd always truly wanted.

Hero groggily awoke, still looking down semi-consciously. They tried to bring a hand up to their aching head, but it didn't budge, and Villain got the cutest little view of the Hero snapping out of their tired haze, pulling against their restraints as they realized they were securely bound, and best of all, their precious little expression of stifled panic as they looked up and saw who their captor was.

"Sleep well, Hero~?"

Villain let out an absolutely delighted giggle as they watched Hero's struggles ramp up, helplessly squirming in the chairtie in a display so wonderfully pathetic the Villain could hardly believe this was the same person that had cockily made short work of their plans so many times before.

Hero's heart was absolutely racing as they squirmed under Villain's taunting gaze, knowing they were relishing every little detail of what they were seeing. Hero was panicked thinking of all the destruction Villain could cause with them out of the picture, everything they could get away with without the Hero there to stop them... or, that's what the Hero wanted to think.

Of course, they were terrified of everything Villain could do with this opportunity, but terror never made their heart race like this. Fear never made their breathing quicken like this. They were well versed in staying composed in dangerous situations- it was their job, after all- so why was this getting such a reaction out of them?

A small part of them, one they desperately tried to ignore, knew exactly why.

"Hmmm? No snarky comments, huh?" The Villain taunted, adrenaline helping them keep their composure and attitude despite their brain being an absolute mess of adoration in the same way it let them power through the pain in a fight. "That's a first. You're always such a loudmouth. Not used to losing, hmmm?"

The Hero glared back up at them, trying hard to keep a look of defiant anger- the Villain almost melted at the way it seemed to slightly falter, the Hero finally showing genuine worry instead of the cocky confidence that somehow never seemed to backfire on them.

"L-Losing? You haven't won yet." Hero spat back. "This doesn't mean the city's free to take. I'm not the only line of defense. And I k-know you won't be able to keep me here for long."

The Villain had never heard the Hero stutter before- their heart just about melted.

"Oh? So you're admitting you can't do a thing to stop me right now~?" Villain teased back, leaning in slightly which Hero matched by leaning back a little. "No comebacks in that snarky lil head of yours but telling me that maybe the other obstacles will do better than you?"

Hero grit their teeth, infuriated, pushing down every other emotion coursing through their mind at the moment. They tried to think of something to say, some razor-sharp retort as they always could, but for the first time they drew a blank.

For the first time in a while, they didn't know what do to. For the first time ever, they didn't know if there was anything they could do.

For the first time ever, the Hero felt completely helpless.

And the worst part, by far, was the fact they liked it.

"Awwwwh, drawing a blank? Can't find a single retort in that pretty lil head of yours?"

The Villain didn't quite mean to let that one slip out, but seeing the Hero's reaction, they didn't regret it for a second.

The Villain watched their helpless squirms ramp up again, the Hero breaking eye contact. As if they were trying to hide.

The Villain leaned in a little more, slowly approaching their captive. They didn't know if continuing was the best idea, but the Hero was so, so unbelievably precious. The Villain couldn't get enough of seeing the Hero like this, and against rationality, wanted more. Wanted more of the Hero's squirms, more of their fruitless attempts to retort, more of the feeling of being in control of them.

"Struggling isn't gonna get you anywhere, sweetheart." They continued. "And something tells me you know that, don't you~?"

Hero's suppressed emotions became harder and harder to keep down. They'd never felt anything like this before, but as they thought about it, as the Villain's teasing pushed them more and more, it became increasingly apparent that they had felt like this before.

This was just the first time they couldn't convince themself they didn't.

"There's no snappy comeback or well-timed attack to save you this time, honey~" The Villain continued. "And you're absolutely adorable, vulnerable like this~"

The Hero's thoughts were absolutely flooding.

They hated this. They hated the fact they liked this. Not because they hated the idea, but because they thought they couldn't have it.

They couldn't imagine what would happen if something like this got out anywhere, especially not the Agency. They knew this could easily shatter their reputation as a hero if it got out. They wanted to hide from it. They hated that they couldn't.

But it felt so, so good.

They so badly wanted to give in. They always had.

...but... this time, they had an excuse to end up in this situation. They were kidnapped. They'd be missing for a few days anyways. Nothing that happened here would be known anywhere else.

M-Maybe it wouldn't hurt to give in to it...?

"Hey, eyes on me, honey." The Villain teased, gently grabbing the Hero's chin and tilting their head to look at them.

The view they were met with was absolutely perfect.

The Hero had a bright red blush on their face. They liked it! They liked it!! The Villain couldn't resist but let out the squeal they'd been holding in. The Hero was precious beyond description to them. They'd been waiting for this- wishing for this- for so, so very long. They were bursting with excitement upon getting a hold of the Hero at all, and the way they looked in the ropes, their precious squirms, their cocky attitude finally dropping... this entire experience had been like a dream to them, and it got better in the only way it somehow could.

The Villain's view- the Hero helpless, their defiant look collapsed, their beautiful eyes not showing anger but instead almost pleading, the Villain lifting their chin to look at them to be met with a telltale sign that they were enjoying this all- it felt like a dream. They couldn't believe it.

After a pause to fully comprehend what was happening, the Villain finally gathered enough composure to say something.

"...You're mine~"

And the Villain had never in their life heard anything more wonderful than the quiet, embarrassed, precious whisper that came out of the Hero's mouth in response...

"...I'm y-yours."

#heroes and villains #hero x villain #heroxvillain #villain x hero #writeblr #writing snippet #creative writing #short story #suggestive #kidnapping

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phoenixcatch7 · 10 months

Text

So there's an actual in game reason you can't get lynel weapons anymore??

So I was looking over the monster statues, just examining the design, when I notice something I'd seen but never really twigged:

Those are nuts and bolts. Huh. That's not natural, that's been added on. In fact, you can still see part of the original scratchy lynel horn from botw underneath, even if it has mutated a bit like all the other horned monsters.

See, lynels, with lizalfos in a lesser way, are the only enemies in the game with the intelligence and cunning to forge weapons. A lizal can only manage one boomerang, shield or bow with varying spikes and occasionally repurpose some hylian armour (and often loot anyway), but lynels are capable of creating their own unique metals and using it to completely outfit themselves. Armour, bows, shields, spears, clubs, and swords, complete with sheaths and harnesses and decoration!

But in totk the particularly pointy ones are missing, leaving only shields, armour, and bows. Their weapons were subject to the Decay as well, but instead of trying to use them anyway, what did they do? They broke down their own weapons and repurposed them as enhancements to their own horns! Extra defence and a new devastating attack!

But... For what reason? They could have kept using those weapons just fine, everyone else is! It probably would have been more practical to start attaching things to the end, like the goblins have all started doing (albeit with mixed results, they seem to inordinately favour mushrooms). Why would the most feared enemy in the game feel the need to put more points into defence and intimidation, even sometimes utilising the rock armour?

What would they be feeling the need to so strongly defend from, even to the point of sacrificing huge attack power over it?

...

Link. It's Link.

The 5 nothing hero of hyrule, who built a whole community of speed running, styling on, brutally murdering lynels almost exclusively again and again and again. Moldugas, hinox, talus, they haven't changed a bit! They weren't at the center of every flashy slow mo clip since the first game came out!

But lynels in totk are running scared, they're building bigger horns to look scarier and armour to hide in, because once they need to get their short range weapons out its already over, or maybe link will just stop farming them for top tear weapons XD.

Tldr: unlike other monsters, which have branched out to kidnapping, riding flying monsters and rolling big spiky balls, lynels have gone entirely the other direction in order to try and scare the hero off after the last round of stylish massacres, and attached their old decayed gear to their horns.

Tldr tldr: botw link is the reason you can't get lynel weapons in totk because he scared them too much.

#Sorry lynels! I'm still going to farm you for your loot! Congrats on swallowing your pride enough to use hylian weapons though lol #Don't think I've even seen a blue lynel outside the floating coliseum. Found one in akkala and immediately went hunting for silver pelts.#It's actually hilarious how much the loz community has affected totk. Like there's glitches they've made features there's pranks they pull #There's lots of little changes they've made to the world and physics engine. Sometimes it's funny #Like rehydrated ganon and the new extra revealing outfits. Sometimes it's how elemental effects now continue through the weapon spin.#Sometimes it's assuming lynels just have bigger horns like the rest until you look closer and realised they enhanced them to be Extra Tall #They've started trying to posture like cats that 'totally aren't scared what' because the loz community is utterly terrifying XD #loz #legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #totk #loz totk #loz tears of the kingdom #tloz totk #tloz tears of the kingdom #totk lynel #lynel #botw lynel #botw #tloz #silver lynel #loz theory #long post #lmaooooooo

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sukisook · 2 years

Text

Slice of Life Drabble : Tamaki Amajiki

“Tamaki Amajiki,” you respond easily, if a little too fast, “He’s proven himself to be incredibly intelligent and brave and–”

“And you liiiiiike him,” Mina drawls.

“That–!”

Your protest is promptly cut off by Ochako’s ear-splitting squeal. “That. Is so. Cute!”

“That,” you try again, ignoring the searing heat of your cheeks, “Is irrelevant. We’re talking about heroes we admire, whether or not I have a crush on–”

“You have a crush on Tamaki! This is perfect. You guys would make such a–”

You tune the rest of Mina’s rambling out, burying your head in your hands with a throaty groan. Tsu pats soothingly at your back..

You’re quick to cut your pink friend off when the topic of marriage is broached.

“Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Why not?” Mina demands, looking personally affronted by the statement.

“It’s just not! There’s no way he likes me back. Now can we please get back to the conversation? Tsu it’s your turn.”

“Selkie. You should ask him out.”

“Ask out Selkie?” You, Mina, and Ochako ask in sync.

“No, I admire Selkie. You should ask Tamaki out. Obviously. Ribbit.”

You splutter out a laugh, feeling the flush trail down from your cheeks to your neck. No way. No way in hell. Tamaki Amajiki is so far out of your league you may as well be living on separate planets.

You’re not even sure how this little infatuation of yours started.

Maybe it was when you’d seen him trip over a pot plant outside the cafeteria and apologise to it afterwards. Or when you’d seen him sitting on the grass with his friends and the sunlight had hit his hair just right, turning the messy indigo strands the exact same shade of purple as the mulberries in your grandmother’s garden. Or maybe it was when he’d stopped you in the corridor after the Sports Festival just to congratulate you on your win and he’d said your name so softly, so gently that you never wanted to hear it said any other way again.

But that didn’t matter.

What mattered was that Tamaki Amajiki absolutely did. Not. Like. You. Back.

Still, you can’t help but let the thought linger.

In the safety of your mind you let yourself imagine that he’d be flattered, perhaps a little stunned, and certainly excited. The pale tips of his pointed ears would flush a pretty pink and he’d look down at you through a curtain of dark messy hair before responding in that beautiful, deep, silky-smooth voice of his…

“I’d like that.”

Yeah, just like that.

Wait–

“Huh?” Your head shoots up and there he is.

Tamaki Amajiki.

Huh. His ears are flushed a pretty pink.

So are his cheeks.

Mirio stands behind him, and when the third year turns back to his blonde friend, Mirio’s quick to shoot him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. Tamaki rubs a hand over his flushed neck, gaze darting over your face before returning to the scuffed tips of his shoes.

“You’d like…that?”

“Yeah.”

Mina squeals.

Your brain stutters to a halt, neurons short circuiting like you’ve been hit by one of Denki’s attacks. “Oh.”

“I actually,” he pauses, taking another glance back at Mirio whose smile only grows. “I uh– I like you.”

“Oh.”

Mina’s eyes widen. Ochako starts slapping your arm.

Tsu rolls her eyes.

“Right,” you stand shakily, without really knowing why. Now you’re hovering beside the bench, a few feet away from your long-time crush, and you’re overcome with the bizarre urge to shake his hand like you’ve just closed some sort of business deal. “I like you too. Obviously. You probably already heard that.”

He laughs, and it is perhaps the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. “Yeah. I heard.”

#tamaki amajiki #I am thinking about my little elf boi #24/7 #Tamaki Amajiki x reader #tamaki x reader #Amajiki x reader #Tamaki Amajiki x you #mha #bnha #mha x reader #the big three

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nouearth · 9 months

Text

a letter to spider-man.

peter parker x male reader.

summary: spider-man launched his own help line and you need his advice in talking to your crush: peter.

wc: 1.2k. genre: fluff, comfort!fic. warnings: holland!peter, social anxiety, mention of death, crushes, college!au. notes: i was re-reading perks of being a wallflower again, OOF. i kinda want to make this a series, so please tell me if you'd like to see it become one!

peter wasn’t sure what made him decide to do this: a spider-man help line. one day, he woke up and wanted to fulfill a sense of purpose more than he already has—to help out the public more, to build a community that peter has been wanting to fix since the death of his aunt.

so far, they’ve been pretty simple tasks: walking the dogs, helping a blind woman with grocery shopping, fixing a broken pipe with his webs—it was all out of the kindness of his own big heart. a heart that his aunt once nurtured.

it was hard at first. from being a ‘save the world’ hero to a ‘save the dog from burning up in a locked car’ hero, it was a downgrade one might find—peter did at first.

but it’s been a while since he saw the relieved smiles on the public’s faces whenever he swung from the corner. true happiness that he was envious of at times, but nonetheless grateful for, and so that would become his motivation.

maybe it can make the world a better place if people happen to be inspired by his actions. small stuff that regular civilians can achieve. a domino effect that peter hoped for.

—april 10th

dear spider-man, so, this is a thing now, huh? the future is so unpredictable, so i actually never thought i’d be writing to you. well, i guess the future would be me texting you like you advertised, but i like writing. it makes my hand cramp, and my handwriting is terrible (sorry, i hope you can still read this), but it feels good. like... shouting at the sky, i would imagine, so i prefer it. i’ve also been watching a lot of ‘80s and ‘90s movies, which could also be a major factor. and i just realized i’m supposed to tell you about my problems! this is kinda hilarious because i think i’ve probably rewritten my letter six times already. also, are you living your citizen life as a therapist or something? because why else would you be helping people this way? not that we don’t appreciate it, but it’s different. you’ve probably stopped reading by now, but in case you haven’t, i’ll keep the rest short. i guess my problem is… i like this guy. i know you’re not a relationship therapist (your secret is safe with me if you are though), but i figured a guy like you knew how to talk to people? you save people on a daily basis, so you probably aren’t scared anymore, right? that theory worked better in my head, to be honest, so scratch that! anyway, his name is peter. we’re both freshmen in college, so we’ve been seeing each other a lot, especially since we’re in the same classes. did i mention that i’m a guy as well? i don’t know him that well. i’m pretty quiet, i guess. invisible, maybe? it’s funny. sometimes, my professors would forget that i was even in their classes until i would speak up. but besides that point, he probably doesn’t even know that i exist either. the perks of being invisible—i’m not even sure if there are any, because i’m noticeable enough on days where people want to say stuff. mean, terrible stuff. i wonder if he notices me, though. probably not, but a guy could only hope. i think we’d get along. again, hope! he’s smart and humble, always insecure of his own answers even though he knows—everyone knows—that it’s correct. kind, too. also awkward, like me. but the cute-awkward, not the me-awkward. i like him. i want to be friends with him. maybe even more? but i’m not greedy! i can settle with being friends. i guess, how can i approach him?

thank you, (m/n)

it caught peter off guard at first—seeing his name in the same vicinity as spider-man became a jump-scare. even though, the sender kept everything pretty vague to keep the named crush relatively anonymous, there was a gut feeling telling peter that it was him—the culprit of (m/n)’s stolen heart.

nah, there are so many peters..! just a coincidence.

it took him longer than he thought to come up with a sufficient reply. usually, a task would’ve been done because all he had to do was use his body, his webs to do good—not his words. inexperienced yet excited, peter smiled while writing his letter.

peter wasn’t great at consoling people. hell, he couldn’t even make himself feel better. but he’ll try, like he always does.

—april 23rd

hi (m/n)! sorry for taking so long to get back to you! life’s been crazy with everything going on. did you know that there’s been at least ten deli robberies that i managed to save this week alone? something about that chicken salad sandwich drives people nuts… like you, peter’s actually been pretty swamped with exams and graduation. i also want to congratulate you for being the only one that has written a letter to me instead of using the chat service! i’ve never written a letter before, so excuse my rustiness. my handwriting is way worse than yours. mine looks like if you gave a dog a pen and made it write. freshman year of college is a big year for you, for everyone. i remember the feeling of feeling so lost! still know the feeling. don’t get me wrong. yes, i’ve become braver since i started this spider-man stuff. but i still get scared, you know? life is so unpredictable and you never know when something might go wrong, and unexpectedly go so right. like, just the other day, i got anxious when i was ordering from a drive-thru! they didn’t hear me, so i had to repeat my order. then again, because the mic sucked or whatever! even though it was only me, i felt so embarrassed, like my cheeks swelling and itchy skin type of nervous. but then it quickly went away because… okay, well i got my burger and fries pretty quick, so that helped. but you know what i mean? there’s this potentially negative outcome that we’re so afraid of. when in reality, it’s only ever so fleeting. you said he’s a nice guy, right? he could also be scared to talk to you, and you would never know because you’re too busy knocking yourself down! everyone is awkward. I’m awkward. so are some of my family members, my friends too. and that feeling won’t ever go away. sometimes, it’s meant to be shared. being invisible isn’t so bad sometimes. i definitely know the feeling, even wished for it at times. you can listen to music without being bothered, that’s a bonus! but from what i’ve noticed from feeling invisible, it would always come when i was being unkind to myself. i had the worst perception of myself in the eyes of my peers, and that made me withdraw. i purposely isolated myself because i was being unkind. the way you view yourself reflects onto others. not all the time, sometimes people are genuinely just assholes. but from what you’ve been telling me about this peter guy, he seems pretty special. if you’re awkward, be awkward and laugh it off. there’s nothing more charming than being genuine, and being kind to yourself is part of that progress. I’m rooting for you (and peter)!

from your friendly neighbor, spidey.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

334 notes · View notes

jennarations · 7 months

Note

Would love your landoscar fic recs 💌

your wish is my absolute command 🫡🫡

i’ve gone back to college and started student teaching and gotten covid and adopted a kitten all in the last two weeks so i haven’t gotten to read as much but here is what i’ve got! the key is the same as the lestappen fic rec:

> (Title) +/= (Multichaptered/One-Shot)

(Summary)

!!! (Link)

• (Tags - please note these are just the tags I saw relevant to myself, double check the fics themselves for any other tags you might deem relevant!) *(Word count)

Here we go! I’m also tagging some of the bestest and loveliest authors at the bottom of the post, go send them some love!! (Putting it under a Read More for all of our collective sanity)

My one (1) work (shameless self plug heheheh):

> Thunderstruck =

Lando has a childhood fear of thunderstorms and in a record-breaking year for rainfall, Oscar Piastri becomes his new teammate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50579323?view_adult=true

• Falling in love, Slight pining, Fluff, Humor *8.1k

—

> If You’re Barbie, And I’m Barbie, Then Who’s Driving the Bus? =

Anyways, the driver room is largely quiet at the moment. But not entirely, much to Lando’s enjoyment.

Buzzing from Oscar’s headphones, loud enough for Lando to hear the words, is a song from Barbie.

Charli XCX, no less.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48940792#main

• Fluff, Comedy *800 words

> Mortifying! Anyways, =

Mortifying interaction, but he’d survive. Besides, it’s not like the cashier was that cut–

“Cute enough to make you stupid, huh Norris?” He could hear his smile before he saw his face, a proper Cheshire grin.

“Fuck off mate,” Lando groaned, already trying to scrub the cashier from his brain. Except for the Australian accent, he decided; that bit could stay. Maybe his eyes, too, as tired as they had seemed. And his hair, which looked so soft in that kind of ridiculous side part.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49328047/chapters/124474876?

• College AU, Clumsy Lando, Meet-cute *2.3k

> The New Normal =

He wears a lot of shorts.

Lando had thought that Daniel wore shorts a lot, and then along came Oscar. It must be something about Australians.

Carlos never wore shorts.

Oscar’s pale, unblemished, muscular (and hairy) thighs spill out of the team issued black shorts whenever they sit to film content, or sit in meetings, or whenever Oscar sits in Lando’s general vicinity while wearing them.

They’re not a distraction.

OR Lando’s very healthy obsession with his new teammate’s thighs.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49335997/chapters/124496539?

• Pining, Slight smut *8k

> Invocations One Fall Away From the Concrete = ♥️

“Okay,” Lando says. “What’s your power?”

“Telekinesis,” Oscar replies a little too easily, like he’s trying not to make a big deal out of it. In fact, he’s already looking back down at his form. Lando doesn’t miss the way he seems completely stumped by the ‘Birth date’ square though.

Telekinetics are far and few between. You’re probably more likely to be struck by lightning twice than to meet a telekinetic. They’re so highly sought after in the hero industry that any telekinetic baby would automatically have a net worth of at least three hundred billion US dollars the second it was born. Moreover Oscar's an Oxy. It’s like, the jackpot of jackpots. This guy’s simply unreal on paper.

Lando scrunches up his face, rolls his eyes and says, “alright.” He shrugs. “Nothing to write home about, then.”

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

AKA the low-key superpowers au where they have to activate their powers doing a really specific thing. Oscar's activation is a mystery to Lando, but it involves a lot of good stuff, pinky promise. (Lando Wink™)

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49508506/chapters/124953475?

• Non-Driver AU, Superpowers AU, Roommates, Slight Angst, Fluff, Humor *10.3k

> Only Found = ♥️

“Hey, well. No strings attached, right?” Oscar says, strategically.

Lando smiles and says, “hell yeah. And now that that’s established, what’s your stance on aliens? Also, do you still want your cake?”

cinderella soulmates au where whatever you lose, your soulmate finds. except: oscar has a soulmate and lando is a No-Match, a person who doesn't have a soulmate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49218676#main

• Non-Driver AU, Soulmates AU, Lawyer!Oscar, Streamer!Lando, Angst, Fluff *6.8k

> Carried Away =

"Oscar," Lando said. "Don't hate me, alright, but I've—”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48871015#main

• Non-Driver AU, Fake Relationship, Angst, Fluff, Humor *22.1k

> Little Bit of Love =

“I’m freezing,” Lando says. Whines, really. “Don’t be mean, Oscar, I feel like shit.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49143811

• Sick fic, Fluff, Realization of Feelings *4.7k

> Signed Sealed =

Delivered

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48959461#main

• Text fic, NSFW pics *4.3k

> Smokeshow =

Because Oscar won the American football challenge, Lando had to wear the cheerleader uniform.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48546973#main

• Smut, Cheerleader uniform Lando, Brat!Lando *3.5k

> I’ll Kiss You First =

“Uh,” Oscar says, when they’re in the car on their way to the airport. “I think you’re—um. Going into heat, mate.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47264011#main

• A/B/O, Alpha!Oscar, Omega!Lando, Smut *3.1k

> Sunflower Seeds =

Not worth dwelling on, really. Oscar doesn’t have to understand him to be on his team. If he were a pitcher, it would be different; Oscar has to get his pitchers in order to do his job as a catcher well. Lando isn’t a pitcher, though. So it’s fine.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49596088/chapters/125175172?

• Non-Driver AU, Baseball AU, Realization of Feelings, Fluff *8.6k

> Chronically Bitchless But Still Wifed Up = ♥️

Lando wasn’t above throwing his weight around in order to get what he wanted, at least in some circumstances. And he wanted to meet Oscar Piastri.

In general, he wanted to go to a MotoGP weekend and probably could have either bought tickets and waited around there like a normal person or asked one of his actual sort-of friends in the paddock to hang out in their garage, but the more specific desire was to meet Oscar Piastri.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49301212#main

• MotoGP!Oscar, Driver!Lando, Fluff, Humor *8.3k

> Negative Splits =

So officially, Oscar Piastri, pretty good steepler and pretty bad pacer, was now a professional runner.

They wanted him to steeple, mostly, though he’d be doing cross country in the fall, and Lando had pinky promised him, mid-distance guy to mid-distance guy, that if he wanted to get into the 3k flat indoor then he would get him in.

Oscar didn’t really want to ask how he planned on doing that. Felt safer not to ask.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48161206#main

• Non-Driver AU, Professional Runner AU, Injuries, Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort *10.1k

> Thinkin Bout Your Touch =

Lando’s brain gets so occupied by the thought it shouldn’t come as a surprise really, when a few rounds later Oscar says, “Dare.” Lando blurts out, “Let me suck your dick.”

There’s a long, awkward silence in which they just stare at each other, Oscar’s expression completely unreadable. “Uh,” he eventually says. “I think a dare is something I’m supposed to do.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48704749?view_adult=true#main

• PWP, Blowjob *2.3k

> I’ve Tasted Blood (And I Want More) =

Lando grabs a pillow and hits him with it, while Oscar laughs loudly. His fangs are on full display, white and sharp and pretty. “You know what I mean, you dickhead!”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Oscar says, eyes twinkling. “You want me to use you as a human Capri Sun. You know, like a weirdo.”

“God, you’re making this so much worse than it is,” Lando says, burying his face in his hands. It’s. Well, it’s embarrassing, but Oscar also hasn’t outright said no, so. You know what they say. In for a penny, in for a pound. “So, will you?” And then, just in case, he adds. “Suck my blood?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48136999#main

• Vampire!Oscar, PWP *5.6k

> Legerdemain =

“You’re so modest it’s disgusting,” Lando says. “Michelle’s told me all about it. You winning against some master back in Australia. Anyways, she wants to hop on the bandwagon, get us to play chess, take photos after the weekend. She thinks you could teach me. It would show that you’re pedantic and that I’m pushing past my comfort zone...”

Oscar scoffs. “If Michelle’s only taking photos, why do I need to teach you it? Couldn’t we just pose with a chess set, like the Williams drivers?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49690744/chapters/125422075?

• Chess, Humor, Sexual Tension *5.8k

> What You Do To Me =

“Oh,” Oscar says, because what else are you supposed to say when your teammate says ‘I wish I still had a girlfriend so I could fuck some of that frustration out of me’. “I mean. I uh. I could give you a blowjob? I’d suggest a fuck but I don’t have any lube on me right now and I’m guessing you don’t either.”

Huh, would you look at that. Looks like the award for ‘most insane statement of the night’ doesn’t go to Lando after all.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47993518?view_adult=true#main

• PWP, Blowjob *2.5k

> Purring in My Lap (cause he loves me) =

The cat thing ends up getting sort of explained in Bahrain, when Lando walks into his driver room and finds a small orange cat sitting on his couch.

Oscar’s cat, presumably.

And he kind of looks like Oscar, too. Slender, lean, and with a slightly grumpy, unimpressed expression on his face. It makes Lando laugh a little. Like owner, like pet, clearly. “Should I just call you Oscat, then,” Lando jokes, giving the cat a little head scratch.

The cat, Oscat, stops rubbing at Lando’s hand and just stares at him instead. Lando would almost say he was looking at him disapprovingly, but it is a cat, so he’s probably just imagining things.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47878867#main

• Cat!Oscar, Fluff, Slight Angst *5k

> In Limbo =

“So what, you like me?”

Tick this box for yes, and this box for no. Fold it tight. Slide the paper under the desk. Don’t let anyone see.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49619383#main

• PWP, Dubious Consent *2.3k

> Eyes on Me =

He just doesn’t understand why Oscar stares so much.

It first comes to his attention at the pre-season media shoots. They have to be photographed in the new gear, and the new suits, and all the while a video camera is rolling to capture content for some behind the scenes pre-season footage. Lando likes to look back at the content they film, just to see how awkward he is.

He looks over some of the test photos while the videos load, and he sees Oscar’s eyes on him a lot of the time. Lando’s own are on the camera, his posture relaxed as he goes through the motions of what the team asks of him.

Lando notices just how much Oscar stares at him, until one day he realises just how much he stares back.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49769368#main

• Mutual Pining *3.8k

> Home Is Wherever You Are =

‘You know, we could ask Carlos to babysit tonight,’ Lando mumbled against his mouth.

Oscar pulled back and hit his husband’s chest while laughing at him and shaking his head.

‘The man just arrived, babe, we can’t ask that right away!’

Lando pouted and pulled Oscar back against his chest. ‘But it’s been so long since it’s just been the two of us.’

OR: Lando and Oscar spend the day with their daughter and friends before finally having some alone time

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49909321

• Kid!fic, Established Relationship, Fluff *4.1k

> Grand Theft August =

Oscar Piastri, eh? It's not the worst idea he's ever had.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49975555?view_adult=true#main

• Angst, Humor, Smut *6.9k

> We’re All in the Butter But Some of Us Are Looking At the Cars = ♥️

Under it, the cross stitch with the Mandela quote, there was another one. A different one. Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars. Stars, again. And then the one beneath that was also about stars. Weird, he thought, then went to the till to wait for his sister.

Above the pile, too high for twelve year old Oscar to read, a sign was stamped. SECTION #13: REACH FOR THE STARS.

Twenty two year old Oscar rests his nose to the glass and looks at the clouds.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49696357

• Angst, Slow burn, Prose, Realization of Feelings *14.3k

> Terraforming =

“WORMHOLES! An Einstein brain child. They are created when FTL objects puncture the bed sheet that is our universe. Going through them should be a trip through timespace, which sounds cool, except it’s not because we never know what’s on the other side—”

“I think you meant fabric, not bed sheet,” Oscar says.

Lando rolls his eyes. “It’s a metaphor, mate.”

“For what?”

“For like. The fabric of the universe.”

“Huh.”

“Shut up.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50099659

• Space AU, Non-Linear Narrative, Angst, Happy Ending *8.8k <- I literally haven’t read this yet because it was uploaded today but i love enzo and all their stuff is fantastic so i’m rec’ing it anyway :)

> Superdense Neutron Star//Post Supernova +

It felt good to laugh. Thursdays already kind of sucked, all of the walking and talking and nothing to do, even when he wasn’t being drilled on the abrupt shift of his career. It was manageable because it had to be; because there was half a season left and a championship spot left to fight for and a team that was still his home, even if he’d just been delivered the eviction notice.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49981615/chapters/126195823

• Angst, Fluff, Ambiguous Ending *21.8k <- i also have not had the time to read this one because of life, but i trust leaf with my feelings (and my life) so this also goes on the list.

EDIT 11/5: More additions to the list!

> Unraveled =

Lando does not have a thing for his roommate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50085112/chapters/126476167?

• Non-Driver AU, Roommate AU, Bartender!Lando, Realization of Feelings *7.1k

> It’s Not Queerbaiting, It’s Saving the World =

Lando bursts into Oscar’s room without knocking. He’s red in the face and panting, sweat collecting on his forehead like he just ran a marathon.

“You need to kiss me.”

or, the drivers stage a protest, of sorts. Oscar might lose his mind.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49710619#main

• Fluff, Humor *1.6k

> Melepathic. Or Something =

“Thank God we used condoms,” mutters Oscar later, when they’re presentable, no doubt thinking back to last week when they. Well. Lando peeks out the door to check if the hallway is clear. It is.

“Yeah,” he says as he gestures Oscar out. “See you in a few, mate.” Oscar slips through and Lando picks up his phone again, sees a new message. Up for some fun tonight?

sure, says Lando after a moment. Amen to short refractory periods and all that.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47589115#main

• Smut, Miscommunication, Happy Ending, FWB *8.5k

> What Would You Do (If I Went To Touch You Now?) =

“Okay, so they both like each other. We need to get them together.”

“How? Lando’s too freaked out to think straight and Oscar is the human embodiment of the standing man emoji.”

Charles purses his lips for a moment before he snatches his boyfriend’s phone up from the other side of the table.

“What are you doing?”

“Initiating Mission Landoscar.”

“Did you just make that up?”

Charles waves at him dismissively as he begins texting, and Max lays his head down on the coffee table and prays for strength.

***

In which Max tries to prove to an oblivious Charles how glaringly obvious it is that Lando is head over heels in love with Oscar. When Charles finally gets with the program, Lestappen go on A Mission™ to get the two idiots to admit their feelings for each-other, but it’s easier said than done.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48745483/chapters/122963314

• Lestappen as a plot device, Angst, Slight Smut, Fluff, Humor, Texting, Escape Room Shenanigans *29.7

> Soft Vanilla Foreplay = ♥️

“Oh shit, you’re,” Lando gasps, smiles. “You’re a. You’re Robin Hood. You’re a kitty Robin Hood.”

Oscar stops grinding. “Can we have this talk tomorrow?”

Lando laughs and comes down to place a kiss on Oscar’s lips. “Yeah. Oh yeah. Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be great. I’m sooooo busy right now. Hmm.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50382910/chapters/127293583?

• Vigilantes, Cat!Oscar, Hacker!Lando, Non-Driver AU, Slight angst, Humor, Happy Ending *8.6k

> Is it Gay to Watch Your Teammate on TikTok? (Asking for a friend) +

He’s sitting on the bed, dinner long since picked at, with his knees pulled up to his chest. He feels close to hyperventilating.

It’s playing on loop, some sappy little edit captioned “i need to find someone to look at me the same way oscar looks at lando”.

And really, who the fuck was going to tell him that Oscar smiles at him like that?

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/127611460?

• Fluff, Humor, Ship aware Lando (containment breach of RPF), Pining *4.6k

> HOCKEY!!! Shrimp Colors :) =

Montreal puts Oscar on waivers after years - years of bouncing from the feeder team up to the league, and then back down. Edmonton picks him up.

Edmonton keeps him. Lando does, too.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50562061/chapters/127728067?

• Non-Driver AU, Hockey AU, Leaf puts sports boys into other sports, Angst, Fluff *13.8k

> My Shelter in a Hurricane =

Oscar wants to help Lando get better after the disappointment of Qatar's GP qualification. He doesn't know how...

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50639854/chapters/127923673?

• Fluff, Established Relationship, Post-Qatar Quali, Slight Angst *1.4k

> Pretty When You Cry =

Lando wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry, rip his hairs out, punch a hole into a wall, maybe shove someone, or maybe all of the above.

Or: the mclaren boys comfort each other after that shipwreck of a qualifying.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50624551?view_adult=true#main

• Fluff, Slight Angst *1.4k

> Already Home = ♥️

Lando takes a deep steadying breath. “I think I might be in love with Oscar.” He says, and hates how immediately when he says the words, he knows it’s true.

“Right,” Max says, nodding. “And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and?’” Lando says, a little outraged. “I can’t be in love with him! We’re married! This is like, a disaster waiting to happen!”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50704861/chapters/128087614?

• Non-Driver AU, Fake Marriage, Falling in Love, Angst, Humor, Fluff *32.5k

> Do You Like Me? Y/N =

oscar & lando have an awkward plane conversation, aided by uquiz.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50706235/chapters/128091004?

• Fluff *3.8k

> Recreate the Sun =

“You know who you sound like when you say that?” Lando asks absently, tossing the open bag of Skittles to one side and hoisting himself up the bed to rest against the pillows, head tipped back, the jut of his Adam’s apple catching stark in the TV’s flickering light.

On some level, Oscar already knows what’s coming. The Cheshire cat grin Lando gives to the ceiling near enough confirms it.

“Who?”

“Mark Webber.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48632239

• PWP, Weed use, Oscar/Mark mentions *3k

> Landoscar Cooking Show =

Lando and Oscar's love story through food-related posts on Instagram

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50825998#main

• Picture fic, Social media fic, Fluff *0k

> Little Renaissance = ♥️

And Oscar - people said he didn’t like the spotlight, didn’t know how to capture it and keep it the way Lando did. They always compared the two of them, in that regard. Even after Oscar left. But they weren’t right, the strangers, not after the first year at least.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50824324/chapters/128393929?

• Future Fic, Retirement, Angst, Pining, Acceptance, Happy Ending, Prose *14.2k

> Those Magic Changes =

“Yeah, right.” Oscar’s beer tastes stale in his mouth. “Sure there’s other perks though, right?”

Logan’s attention has been taken by his phone. Probably a girl, Oscar thinks, or his Mom. Maybe there’s a particularly big fish being shared in the family group chat. He types out a message then locks it with purpose, chucking it face down on the table.

“Yeah, I mean. You know what they say happens when you podium, right? The girl thing?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49308133#main

• Fem!Oscar, Smut, PWP *7.8k

> Sometimes I Start To Think You Hate Me Too =

Lando seems to have come to the conclusion that his strategy of appeasing him isn't working, so he opts for being impersonal, objective. "You were optimistic, Carlos locked up, you both crashed. It was a racing incident, and you - you are being dumb about it."

It doesn't work.

He scoffs, upset, he has never left anything well alone, he digs his heels deeper. "I wasn't too optimistic, I was inexperienced, was I not?"

OR,

The deep fear of yearning, wanting and needing without understanding the jealousy that consumes you. Breaking and breathing heavily under an awfully put facade of everything going well.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49659349/chapters/125339467?

• Angst, Inner Turmoil, Fluff, Happy Ending *3.7k

> Mine =

All in all, it’d been a shit weekend for Oscar. He knew he was beating himself up over understandable, expected rookie mistakes, he knew it was a great learning opportunity, he knew that the damage to his car hadn’t been entirely his fault on both occasions. Even if he didn’t show it or express it outwardly, it stung to watch his teammate stand on the podium - P3 - after all that’d happened. It hurt even more when that P3 became P2 before they’d even finished celebrating.

Lando moved up in the championship, so did the team. He deserved it, but it hurt like a bitch.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/51053692?view_adult=true#main

• PWP, Dom!Oscar *2.8k

> Sanctus = ♥️

“Nessun maggior dolore che ricordarsi del tempo felice ne la miseria,” Oscar read. Recited. Proclaimed.

“There is no greater sorrow than thinking back upon a happy time in misery,” Lando echoed.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/50752399/chapters/128207113?

• Renaissance AU, Non-Driver AU, Angst, Master/Servant Relationship, Religious Imagery, Fluff, Happy Ending *5.5k

> Anything Less Than Human =

Oscar doesn’t really do entrances. Sure, in high society, it’s deemed necessary to stand at the top of some ridiculous staircase and wait for someone to announce your arrival. But that really only works in your favor if your name has any kind of good status associated with it.

Oscar’s not fortunate enough to fall into that category.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49902154/chapters/125979850?

• Vampire!Oscar, Masquerade Ball, Consensual Blood Sucking *2.7k

That’s all for now folks!

Authors (i love and cherish u all, you’re simply the light of my life):

@wanderingblindly @eisenberg @ocontraire @celientjeee @nyoomfruits @gaslybottoms and @ venerat (ao3 user)

P.S. whoever the nonnies are that wrote “Grand Theft August” and “We’re All in the Butter but Some of us are Watching the Cars” i would literally pay you to step on me, thanks and good night.

#fic rec #oscar piastri #lando norris #landoscar #landoscar fic rec #mctwinks #mclaren #formula one fic rec #formula one #f1

128 notes · View notes

save-the-villainous-cat · 1 year

Note

Hero rescued villain, and brought them into their house, villain offers to pay for their expenses living at the house before leaving. And hero’s heart breaks. Because they can’t explain it to villain on how many levels he’s wrong. Also make it gay.

The villain’s gaze wouldn’t rest. His eyes jumped from spot to spot on the carpet and the hero had almost thought — nearly feared — there were stains on it. But no, embarrassment never reached him but instead, his mind filled with questions.

Eventually, the villain let out an insincere chuckle and scratched the back of his neck. Nervousness had followed him ever since the hero had taken him to his place.

“Funny thing, though. I actually only have like ninety dollars in my bank account,” the villain said, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

The hero raised his eyebrows as the gears in his brain turned and turned. Despite the villain’s unpredictability, he felt relatively safe with him in his own house.

The villain could be very calm when he needed to be but the restlessness was undoubtedly related to the nervousness. Maybe that was the embarrassment the hero had searched for. Maybe the villain was embarrassed.

Oh god, was the hero being awkward again?

“What do you mean?” he asked. He tilted his head and observed the villain’s fidgety fingers. Long and slim fingers that had little wounds cut into them here and there. Proof of the villain’s imperfections. Proof of the villain’s mortality. Of their vulnerability.

“I don’t know if that’s enough. I’ll be gone by tomorrow, don’t worry. I don’t know how much you want from me.” The hero felt stupid for not knowing what the villain was talking about. For a moment, he accused himself of staring too much, of admiring too much. But he only allowed those thoughts for mere seconds.

“Huh?”

The villain looked up, looking weaker than ever sitting right there on the hero’s bed. A tired face of hunted prey. Sometimes he looked angelic, the hero thought. And other times, he looked like an angel that had fallen from heaven.

But it was all the same. He looked tortured, haunted, in every minute of his life.

And didn’t the hero just want to be that person who could change that? The one and only who could take all the weight from the villain’s shoulders and all his worries from him?

He knew he wasn’t that. But, hell, he craved to help the villain. Craved to be a hero, truly a hero, for once and save someone from drowning.

“I mean, I will obviously not be staying here for free. But I’m short on money right now and…” He inhaled deeply and made an involuntarily weak sound.

“Wait,” the hero said. He shook his head slightly and repeated the villain’s words in his head. “You want to pay for staying here?”

“…yes.”

His heart crumbled a bit. Losing both his hideouts with all his equipment was probably bad enough but then feeling like he had to pay the hero to stay here…

“I don’t want your money,” the hero said.

“What do you want then?”

A fraction of you. A taste.

“Nothing,” the hero said. Now he was the one who avoided eye contact. He tried to clean his mind. The villain was easy on the eyes, brilliantly easy but this wasn’t the right moment. The hero and his little crush had been going hand in hand for months now and slowly, it was driving him mad. Whenever the villain looked defeated or needy, the hero’s knees got weak.

Stupid timing.

“I don’t want anything from you,” he said again. “You’re a guest in my home and not someone who booked a hotel room.”

“Are you sure?” the villain asked softly. “I could get more money from elsewhere.”

The hero blushed, simply because the villain’s voice had gone this soft.

Horrible timing.

“Just tell me what you want me to make for dinner and we’re square.” The hero turned around quickly so the villain wouldn’t notice his spreading blush. “I’ll check on you later if that’s alright…”

When he had calmed his racing heart, he decided to make lots of dessert for the villain. No one should mistake kindness for a debt.

#BEEEE WHO YOU ARE #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #mlm #happy slay month

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nightfall-kachiniko · 1 year

Text

starry night // hawks x reader fanfic

summary: lonely nights cause for longing. you stare at the blank ceiling, your mind full. His number on your phone. He fills the lonely with his presence, even by the crack of his voice.

“mmm.. hey.. you alright birdie…?” the sleepy voice softly mutters through the speaker of your phone, his tired hums acting as a sense of reassurance as they fill your ears.

The dark room around you felt all to quiet. The silence reminding you of the loneliness that filled your house. It felt like self confinement, being alone was. Starting at the wall and scrolling on your phone gave you no help. No matter how many times you tossed and turned, it could never give you that sense of comfort you longed for. After hearing the silence that filled around you, it was finally silenced by a few short rings and a soft voice through your phone, the one that gave a sense of relief in your chest. Though even though your clock read 2:09 AM, you were accompanied by the half awake hero on the other end of the phone.

“hey kei..” you say, your voice not as weary as his. Your eyes felt heavy, but only shut to blink. Your body felt as heavy as a weighted blanket, but your mind remained awake. The bedsheets crinkled as you slightly adjust yourself, bringing yourself closer to the phone placed to your side.

“you okay honey..?” his groggy voice asks again. You feel a warmth burning inside you, slowly easing up to his presence. Though you had his words, you still longed for his touch.

“Yeah, I’m just- too tired to sleep.” You said blankly. You heard a slight chuckle from the other end, followed by an “only you..”

You slightly smiled at his playful response, a sweet comfort erupting in your chest. “It’s just too quiet.”

“mmm.” He hummed in understanding, the background filled with the small sound of his bedsheets rustling.

“is there something on your mind..?” you heard him softly say, his voice seeming more closer than before.

“Just thoughts.” You say. “stop thinking” he replies back, making another one of his dumb jokes that makes ur lips slightly curl. You can sense his smile coming through the screen as he hears you laugh, he’s probably got that sleepy look in his face.. where he’s slightly smiling but his eyes are shut.. his hair is messy and the pretty marking on his eyes look like a drawing. He reminds you of a painting.

Like a soft song, the type of songs that reminds you from the smallest gust of wind that blows through your hair, silencing the suns warmth on your skin for a split second, to the peace of a quiet, saddened night, the type that gives darkness an alluring feel.

“you’re so dumb..” you softly smile as you hear a small scoff through the speaker. “you’re dumber.” he said. “righttt…” you breathed out.

“sorry I called, I know you have work early tomorrow I just-“

“hey, don’t worry about it.” He interrupted. “I can’t talk to you if I’m knocked out huh?”

You scoffed a small laugh, followed by a small smile beginning to curl at the corner of your lips.

“I’d rather talk to you then sleep anyway, the morning comes wayy too quickkk..” you heard Keigo yawn.

“Kei, we spend eight hours a day in the same office,” you laughed a bit, “how are you not tired of me..?” You asked the semi-serious question in a kid tone.

“eight hours isn’t enough.” the phone said. “if anything neither is the whole day.”

you softly smiled, his words causing that wave of anxiety to pass over with a slight breeze.

“I wish you had more time. ” you confessed. your eyes remained starting at the bare ceiling.

“You want me to come over?” He asked, sending a pang to your heart. “You do know it’s 2 in the morning, right?” You said. “Mhmmm…” he hummed. “Kei, you’ll be exhausted.” Your mouth talked, but your heart stayed silent, even though it tugged on your vocal cords, telling you to speak it.

“so what? I’ll be with you.”

His response made you softly smile, breathing out .

“It’s raining, you’ll get your wings wet.”

“You got towels right?” You rolled your eyes, as your grunts were heard through the phone.

“Plus, I know you want me to.” the phone said In a flirty tone, making you blush out of embarrassment.

“oh my god- Just get over here you idiot” you said, rolling ur eyes with smile plated on your face.

his small chuckle hummed through the phone.

“See you in a little bit, yeah?”

“yeah.” You replied, before hanging up the phone.

Your eyes remained at the ceiling, now feeling the silence all around you. Everything was so quiet, too quiet. It was dark, but not saddening. It was lonely, but not depressing. It was just bare. Everything was too blank, even if the walls were filled with posters and decorations, the house itself felt alone.

you spaced out for a while, your eyes glued at the dull setting surrounding you. And soon after a while, a small shut of the window, pulled you out of your trance.

you stepped out of your room, seeing the back of his figure.

“Geez.. I’ve told her… so many times about leaving that window unlocked..” you heard him mutter under his breath, his presence making your lips slightly curl into a relieved smile.

“Well how else would you get in?” You snarky replied, your unexpected voice making his shoulders tense up.

he turned around, a bit more swift than usual, to see you standing behind him, looking at him in the way that makes his heart pound. Your arms crossed together in that sassy way you do, as you were clothed in the pajamas he had gotten you for your office’s ‘Secret Santa’. But the best thing wasn’t the way you leaned back against ur door frame- or how your hair was slightly ruffled from its friction against your pillow. It wasn’t the way you looked in the dim light, or the dumb fluffy socks that’d make him blush everytime he saw you in them. It wasn’t the way one of your legs were positioned slightly infront of the other, or the way your fingers pushed back the hair in front of your face. But that distinctive smile, the one that laid plastered on your face like a painting. The way your lips curl slightly upwards, showing off a faint glimpse your dimples on your cheek. The smile that elevates the plump or your soft lips. The smile that consumes him like the second medicine kicks in. The smile thats so contagious it moves his facial muscles for him, reflecting that same, soft, smile back to you without even realizing it, like a natural instinct of his, his body moving on its own. The smile that softens his gaze. The smile that no one else gets to see but him.

“hey…“ he smiled through your gaze, “hey..” you said back, his look making you smile wider. “If you ever get broken into because of that I will taunt you about it for the rest of your life. ” He said his soft smile turning to a sneaky smirk.

“Oh haha- you’re hilarious..” you roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile.

“Just saying,” he said, coming closer to you. His hands sneaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The atmosphere eased with an intimate aroma. The air surrounding you becoming more thick. More sensual. His eyes didn’t help either, as they started back at yours, taking glances at your lips every so often.“What if.. a villain comes through your window huh..?” You weakly laughed at his tease, you both somehow closer than before. .

“oh hush- The only villain coming through my window is you.” You joked back at him.

“I’m a double agent, different thing.”

“Yeah tell that to the league, then they’ll be breaking through your window.”

Your remark made him chuckle, his laugh eventually becoming a muffle as he kissed your soft lips. His gentle pecks becoming passionate as they continued, his exhales breezing a warm breath on your skin. Your arms found its way to his broad shoulders, relaxing them onto him, as his grip tightened at your waist, luring your lower body closer to his.

Keigo’s grasp was firm and protective, the heat of his body radiating his warmth onto you. His tall, strong figure towered over your body, his hand making its way to cup your cheek.

“mmm… thats what i missed…” He said lowly, a rasp in his throat.

He finished the kiss by giving you a firm, aggressive peck on your cheek, making you let out a giggle.

“Gosh you tryna kill me.?!” You playfully hit him to let go.

“Mmm that was the goal.” He teased, pulling his head back.

“Damn you suck at killing people.” You scoffed

“Nahh don’t worry I’ll get you in your sleep” your smile widened at his stupid joke as you muttered a “shut up” through a few laughs.

“Speaking of sleep..” he began to speak.

“Ohh yeah…!” You recalled. You two were having too much fun to even realize the clock read 2:35. If he hadn’t of brought it up, you two would’ve probably gotten no sleep at all.

“Ughh I blame you, you distracted me,” you groaned, opening the door to your bedroom.

He gently released his hands from your side. “Oh yeah? Distracted by what exactly..?” He smirked.

“Oh my god just get in the bed Keigo” You replied back, flustered.

“A request orr a demand?…because I’ll do whatever you want sweetheart.”

“KEI-!”

“OKAY HAHA FINE-“ he laughed like a child, before playfully falling on the bed, grabbing your waist and pulling you down with him.

He laughed at your squeal before you thudded onto him, feeling his chest raise up and down with every laugh that escaped his lips. You punched him as your way to get back.

He smiled at the snarky smirk on your face, feeling accomplished at your act of revenge. "that didn't even hurt" he said, smirking back at you.

"shut up before I make it" you replied as he pecked your cheek, making you softly smile.

Keigo pulled your under the covers with him, cradling you to his chest. "Now…go to bed." He muttered, his body relaxing slowly into the bed, releasing the exhaustion he held back with laugh and giggles, finally letting it take over him.

You softly smiled at being close to him again, your head buried into the crook of his neck, his strong arms wrapping lovingly around you, as his warmth surrounded you. Now you could see that lovely face you imagined over the phone, where his eyes are closed, but a small soft, sweet smile laid on his face. His sleepy face, You kissed it, gently.

You eased into his arms, cuddling closer to your lover as he hummed sweetly, pressing a kiss to the crown on your head before resting his next to yours.

“ m’ love you,” you heard him grumble, making your lips curl into a soft smile. “I love you too kei..”

He’s calm. That’s who he was. A peaceful painting you painted in your head. And in the darkest lonely night, he wasn’t the shine of light through your window. He didn’t magically make the night day. But he made the dark just as comforting. Just as peaceful as the light. He reminded you that though you’re surrounded by the darkness, the stars still shine light. And though it is dark, and there isn’t much light, there’s still the same peace as if it was day. That’s just who Keigo was, a painting. A beauty of streaks of colors and light. An image with a hidden story inside. Keigo, he..was ur starry night.

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sunnynwanda · 1 year

Text

Wedding date: Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

As Hero waltzes towards them, Villain takes the few seconds to collect themselves and form one coherent thought. Yet all they can muster is the dumbest question in existence.

“Where did you go off to?” they regret asking this the moment the question rolls off their lips. Shit.

“Why, miss me already?” Hero’s grin looks like it should hurt their cheeks.

“Oh shut up,” Villain says over their glass. Their rival seems to hesitate for a moment before speaking. If Villain didn’t know better, they’d say Hero is skittish. You wish they were, Villain’s inner voice chimes in, uncalled for.

“I might if you dance with me,” Hero mumbles, a part of them hoping Villain won’t hear them over the music. The other part is begging for them to catch on. Why is the final step so hard?

The invitation registers in Villain’s brain with a delay, making Hero twists their fingers and Villain themselves choke on their wine, coughing violently as they attempt to speak. “I.. what?”

“Me. You. Dance.” Hero explains, shifting from one foot to another. Their entire frame looks ready to shrink into nothingness to avoid Villain’s curious gaze. “That’s what couples usually do, isn’t it?”

“We’re not a couple,” Villain starts but is interrupted as usual. They should have picked someone less impatient and less adorable. For the sake of their sanity.

“Right now we are,” Hero’s confidence seems to be back with renewed vigour when Villain stands up. Hero places their hand on the small of their enemy's back, leading them to the dancefloor. Villain’s head is empty for a good minute as they process the heat of Hero’s body against theirs. They don’t have to stand this close, yet they make no attempts to keep their distance.

“Tough conversation with Supervillain?” Hero fails to mask their curiosity, speaking in a soft voice as they lead. “Sorry, with your grandmother.”

“Ah. Not really, no,” Villain beams at them, grateful for the distraction from the proximity of their rival. Their eyes are so bright Hero has to bite down an ‘Aw’. “It was pretty nice.”

“See?” Hero almost giggles and considers vanishing from the face of the Earth for good. “Told ya she likes me.”

The cocky tone makes Villain chuckle lightly. They shake their head as Hero spins them around the dancefloor. The stares soon get the best of them, making Villain stumble over their feet and Hero’s grip around their waist - tighten. Why is there no air in this godforsaken place?

“You’re... graceful,” Villain states the obvious, earning a pointed look from their partner.

“Huh. And to think you would have noticed that during our fights,” Hero teases, amusement filling their voice like warm honey. “Don’t you pay attention to me?”

“Hey, I do,” Villain resists loudly before a sudden idea comes crashing through the train of their thought. “Wait a minute. Are you flirting with me?”

Hero nods way too quickly. They freeze, breath hitching in their throat. Too late to back down. “Have been for the past several months, actually.”

“I... did not have that information,” is all Villain manages to squeeze out before their brain short-circuits. Hero laughs at that, bending their partner back dramatically. Some of the guests applaud, enjoying the show. Villain couldn’t care less.

“Now you do. What are you gonna do about it?” Hero asks in a small voice. They’re breathless, but the dance has nothing to do with it. The room is spinning at a ferocious speed. They should probably stop moving.

Villain takes their time processing the question, no longer oblivious to their rival’s state. “What can I do about it?”

“Well, there are two options,” Hero claims with the most serious expression on their pale face.

“Do elaborate on them,” Villain requests as Hero comes to a halt, letting go of their waist.

“Let me remain your fake date for the rest of the evening, then go back to being enemies in the morning,” Villain hums, but before they can reply, Hero continues with the second option. “Or, leave the party and enjoy my company for the rest of the night and, preferably, the entire weekend.”

Villain takes Hero’s hand, guiding them to a secluded area behind a column. Hero leans against it, their breathing is laboured as they speak. “Don’t get me wrong, both include making out, but I’d much rather you pick the second path, so I can have a chance to properly take you out.”

“What does the choice depend on, again?” Villain takes a step closer, enjoying every second of Hero's agony. They look ravishing in the bluish light, and Villain wonders how they’d look on a rooftop under the night sky with their lips swollen from rough kisses.

“Whether you like me back or not,” Hero toils through the sentence, unable to meet their eyes. Villain closes the remaining distance between them, cupping their cheeks and covering Hero’s lips with their own.

Hero all but dies on the spot. Their heart hurts in their chest, threatening to crack open. Dear God. They don’t realise when or how their hand moves to grab the back of Villain’s neck.

“Hero?” Villain is panting and blushing furiously, but that fades in comparison to the deep shade of red on Hero’s cheeks. Hero finds themselves unable to speak, opting for a weak nod. And to think they were the one flirting. Damn, Villain.

“Take me away from here.” Villain smirks, satisfied with the effect they have on their 'fake' date.

It takes Hero exactly 49 seconds to regain their composure, lace their fingers with Villain’s and drag them away with the silliest smile ever.

Mission Report #1963 Agent: Hero Mission: Accomplished P.S. Thank you, Supervillain.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist

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whumble-beeee · 2 months

Text

A New Enemy Has Entered The Arena

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 6

Content: disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, tied up/handcuffs, (brief) dissociation, noncon partial undressing, noncon touch, attempted noncon

* * * * * * * *

Except from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters Dr. Vaughn Verhulst

["Make them fear the wrath of god, then remind them the only god they should fear is you."]

* * * * * * * *

“So, this is the capture, huh?” The new voice drawled. Despite the exhaustion and the agony lacing throughout every part of his body, Stan's managed a look up at the new situation. Directly into a pair of steel blue eyes that made his breath stutter. “Not much to look at, huh?”

Stan scooted backward, but Deeby seemed to beat him to the same idea, stepping in front of the man and completely blocking him from view.

“There's no way you're the one doing the pickup. What are you doing here?”

The new man tried to side-step Deeby. “Don't worry, I'm not trying to interrupt your smooch-fest, just wanna make sure you aren't breaking our new toy–”

Deeby stepped in front of the man again, the man barely stopping short of crashing directly into him, just long enough for Stan to gather his scattered bearings and realize there was a new person here and all the distinct possibilities of what that meant for him.

And suddenly he felt lightheaded again.

“Dude…”

“What.” Deeby insisted slowly. “Are you doing here?”

This new guy… honestly, not much to look at himself, from what Stan saw. He couldn't have been too much older than Stan, fluffy light brown hair, an accent he couldn't quite place, but… probably European? He also wasn't wearing any sort of mask or anything to hide his face, which was only vaguely concerning, Stan decided to believe. Not to mention, this new guy had been wearing a knit sweater vest? It looked soft. Stan almost had to remind himself that the guy must be a threat, just like Deeby, or why would he even be here?

He just looked so corporate.

“I told you, checking on the capture, getting some intel. Making sure you didn't crap up the very simple plan, or kill him. It’s a real concern with you, I'm sure you understand.”

The man tried to side-step Deeby once again, and once again the mercenary blocked him. Stan started to scoot back away from the two, his ankle chain softly clanking as it dragged across the floor. Whatever was going on between them, he wanted no part of it.

“He's secure. And alive. Not fatally wounded, and will continue to stay that way.” Deeby stated. “You can leave now.”

Sweater-vest ventured an exaggerated glance over Deeby's shoulder, just barely giving Stan another view of his steel-colored eyes. Something about them made his heart skip a beat.

“You sure about that, big man? Kid doesn't seem to be doing so hot.

“Yup.” Deeby didn't even entertain a glance back. “Buh-bye now.”

Stan could practically hear the eye-roll that accompanied the groan that Sweater-vest let out. “Well excuse me for not trusting you as far as I can throw you. Look, I'm not just here to mess with you, I'm here on Lana's orders. She wants you to call her.”

Stan stopped scooting dead, an icy coldness surging through his chest, a sudden darkness swirling around his head. Lana. That sounded like a real name. Why was this man using real names? Deeby didn't use a real name, he was very dead set on that! Why was this new man using real names?! Real names were bad why was he using real names–?!

Deeby also stiffened at the name. He hand clenched for just a fraction of a second. Then he shook his head and brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Why didn't she just call me instead of sending your sorry ass to deliver the message?” Deeby finally seemed to settle on.

Sweater-vest's eyes flicked over Deeby, up and down, before an unnerving grin spread across his face. “I know something you don't know~” he sang slowly, like some sort of horror movie villain.

“You planning on telling me? Or you just gonna stand there like a skin-walker.” Deeby look just about ready to blow.

“Soon as I verify the little super lives up to our wildest hopes and dreams.”

“Y’know, technically we’re supposed to be on the same side.”

The man sidestepped Deeby one last time, and this time, the mercenary just let him pass by. Stan shrank back as the piercing gaze of Sweater-vest appraised him, looking him up and down as he slowly walked closer.

“A bit worse for wear, no?” Sweater-vest noted, almost to himself.

“Yeah, little shit tried to escape. Got pretty far too, he's stronger than I thought. Got me right–” Then he noticed Stan had backed up halfway across the room instead of stayingin place on the floor right behind him. And sighed. “Kinda a wuss though…”

“Die.” Stan growled, scowling at the mercenary even as he clutched his knees to his chest.

“Oooooh” Sweater-vest cooed, and Stan nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized how close the man had gotten to him. “Feisty little guy, huh?”

Stan kicked out at him and skittered back, only to realize he was almost out of room to skitter. So he reluctantly stood his ground. Well, sat his ground. “Get away from me!”

“He's mostly talk,” Deeby called again. “Mostly…”

Stan barely even registered what Deeby said. His vision completely tunneled on Sweater-vest as he slowly advanced on Stan, like a predator stalking its prey.

“Dang, Dick Biscuits, you really got a handle of him, don’t you?” Sweater-vest's eyes never once left Stan's. “Leashed and collared, like a little puppy dog… “

Stans cheeks turned a bright red. He glared at the man as hard as he could, jaw clenched so hard it could have broken, because honestly, how dare he?!

Deeby sighed, like he'd rather be anywhere but where he was now. Stan could relate.

“Yeah… It's necessary.”

“Oh, I agree wholeheartedly.”

The man crouched directly in front of the trembling Stan. “Hi,” he said softly, disarmingly, giving Stan just the slightest tilt of the head. “My name's Vaughn, its–”

“Christ man, would you cut it out with the names!” Deeby yelled, causing the both of the smaller men to jump as he marched over. Stan reflexively curled up into a little ball, gut swirling with a new and terrifying form of dread and suddenly very aware of his restraints once more, while Sweater-vest–... Vaughn… sprung up to face down Deeby.

As much as Stan was absolutely terrified of Deeby, he had to admit he agreed with the bounty hunter on this one. The way Sweater-vest threw out names like that felt… Dangerous. On a visceral level. He hugged his legs closer to his chest.

“Why?” Sweater-vest taunted. “It's not like he's gonna live to tell anyone.”

“Nothing's ever 100% with these things,” he growled. “Unless you want to get fifty to life here as well. You'd be doing me a huge favor, honestly, and bring Lana down with you while you’re at it. But leave me out of it.”

Sweater-vest hummed, considering. Glanced Deeby up and down. Then scoffed. “Don't you have an important phone call to get to, Deeby? I’d hate to have to tell Lana that her least favorite ex disobeyed her direct orders and needs to be dealt with.”

The mercenary stared down Sweater-vest. The intensity of it almost entranced Stan, it seemed to go on for an eternity. Then, finally, Deeby let out a small grunt, and took a slow, deep breath.

“Stan!” he yelled. Stan nearly yelped. “If he tries anything, kill him, he deserves it. And you.” he turned his attention right back to Sweater-vest before Stan could stutter out some sort of question or affirmation. “Don't fuck with him.”

“Aw, so protective, falling in love already?”

“I'll be back in a few, don't try anything!” He yelled as he made his way toward the door. Then, only slightly under his breath, “Pinche pendejo.”

The smile on Sweater-vest's face immediately dropped and he whirled around.

“Krijg de tering, vuile teringleier!”

The door slammed shut, the crack of metal against metal deafening in the sudden silence. And they were alone. Together.

Stan stared at the floor and clenched his fists, trying to calm his racing nerves. Did his best to keep his breathing even. Be still, not show weakness while also not challenging the man he was now alone with. He never thought he would ever actually miss Deeby's presence. But here they were.

“Brute.” Sweater-vest seethed under his breath as he sauntered back over to Stan. “Should've just put him out of his misery years ago, swear to God.”

Then his demeanor completely shifted once more as he stood over Stan. More professional, more cold, more demanding.

“Anyway, stand up, let me get a look at you.”

“Are you ‘The Guy?’” Stan blurted out before he had time to even realize he was doing it. Anything to break the sudden unbearable tension.

Sweater-vest tilted his head with a raised eyebrow and a small laugh. “The Guy?”

“Yeah…” Wow, suddenly he wished he never said anything. “The uh, the guy. You know the guy…” Stan's voice wavered as the man scrunch his nose at him. As if Stan was speaking an entirely different language. “Like. Like the guy. The guy who, uh, who…”

He took a deep breath, and blurted out “The boss guy who had me kidnapped!”

A brief pause. The man stared at him.

“No,” he snorted. “No, I'm not ‘the guy’, as you so eloquently put it. And your ‘guy’ is actually a lady, the lovely Ms. Lana who I mentioned earlier. And I'm Dr. Vaughn Verhulst, you can call me Vaughn. Pleasure to meet you.”

Stan shrank into himself slightly. “Oh…”

Again with the names. They made his skin crawl, like tiny ants crawling up and down his arms. The full name this time too, Dr. Verhulst. And Lana. Where had he heard that name before? Lana...

Stan didn't have time to ponder the question, though, as the man surged forward and reached down toward Stan's vulnerable neck, and Stan screeched and jolted back trying to get away.

But the man was surprisingly fast for a guy who could be mistaken for an office drone.

“Alright now, stand up.”

Then suddenly Stan was choking as the two fingers looped under his collar and dragged him upward, squeezing Stan's windpipe fully shut with Stan gasping and clutching at the collar trying to free himself and allow his body the sweet air it so desperately begged for the whole short distance up. And when he was finally standing and the collar loosened just slightly, Stan coughed and wheezed and tried to double over on himself to lessen the pain, if only the man wasn't still holding him straight up by the collar. He finally managed to get his own fingers under the collar just enough to pull it away from flush against his throat, his body shifting from world-shaking coughs and gasps for air to shuddering wheezes and shivers, and only then did he realize that Vaughn’s other hand wasn't just sitting idly by. No, instead it settled on his arms and ribcage, pressing into the tender bruised flesh that marred his entire body.

He felt a sudden sharp pain at his side and twitched away from it, only for a steadying hand to fall on straight onto another bruise on his waist and press in, clutch at it, holding him in place and sending jolts throughout his entire body that made him dizzy. All the breath left his body. He froze.

“What– What're you–?... Stop, let go…” It felt almost taboo to break the sudden stillness. He tried to pull away, but the grip on his collar just tightened, knuckles pressing harder into his neck as Sweater-vest continued to press into his side.

“Shhhhhh, dropje. Just let me do my work.”

“Your work?...” The hand pressed into his broken rib, and Stan yelped out and shoved the offending hand away from the tender area.

“STOP! Stop touching me! Stop!” Stan cried. This was too much. What was even happening here?

Vaughn's dark gaze fixed on the place that had made Stan cry out, calculating, jaw set. Stan withdrew into himself sightly before he remembered himself, and stared defiantly right back. Then the gaze drifted slightly lower, softening with an almost mischievous smile and a low hum before he finally, finally, looked Stan square in the eyes.

“Take your shirt off.”

Stan's heart turned to ice.

“WHAT?! No! You’re insane!”

Stan managed to rip free of his grip and launch backwards, only for his back to slam directly into the wall. Damn it. He saw stars, and the world rocked around him.

He pressed into it regardless, held his cuffed hands up in front of his torso as some sort of measly defense. “Get– Get away from me! I'm not taking my shirt off! You're crazy, get away!”

He scowled, then reached into his pocket with a deep sigh. A glint of steel gleamed in the light as Vaughn pull out a pair of very sharp-looking scissors and waved them lazily at Stan's chest.

“You are.” Sweater-vest stated simply. “I'm a doctor, dropje, I have to take a look at your body, make sure that ass didn't leave any lasting damage. You worry too much.”

Sweater-vest suddenly went to reach around his arms and get at the top button of his shirt, and Stan slapped them away, earning himself a glare from the man as he stepped closer once more and boxed him in completely.

“Stan… Schatje…” he spoke lowly, voice sickeningly sweet. The scissors drifted so close to his throat. “I'm going to make this so simple for you, yeah? I'm cutting your shirt off now. If you make things difficult, then your shirt won't be the only thing cut, got it?”

Stan squeezed his eyes shut and tried to become so small. Small enough that the threat wouldn't see him anymore and he could run away and never have to deal with it again. This was insane. This was insane, right? This guy was insane!

“No, no, no, no, no, don't, get away from me, get away from me.” He tried to inject as much hissing venom as possible into the words, but they still didn't come out much above a squeaking, shaky whisper.

Vaughn reached for his top button, and though Stan pressed into the wall as much as he could, arms up and ready to strike at any moment, this time his fingers weren't stopped from undoing the top button. Then continuing down from there. Then he gently grabbed Stan's wrists and moved them downward and continued unfastening, all the way down until the front of his shirt was completely open, the cool air giving Stan goosebumps.

“Oh.” Vaughn said, almost to himself, running his finger over the strap of Stan's chest binder. “I didn't realize you were transgender, Stan.”

The swirling mass of thoughts in Stan’s head finally meet the one overwhelming his gut and crashing down upon him, breaking the fragile spell keeping him paralyzed.

“DEEBY! HELP!!” Stan cried out, loud as he possibly could. As if Deeby would ever help him. As if he would save him. All Stan knew was that in that very moment, he would prefer the physically abusive mercenary a hundred times over this guy, the guy who looked at him like a lion at an antelope, the man who feigned kindness, whose smile seemed just a bit too perfect, who made weird cryptic comments and who threw names around as if it didn't matter whether or not Stan knew them. As if Stan would never live to escape. As if the horrors Stan would endure were cursed to echo the walls in which they occurred, never to be heard by another soul.

“Oh calm down, Stanny, he's not going to come save you.” Vaughn dismissed, quickly pulling down the sleeve of his shirt and cutting it open down the seam, the quick repetitive snip snip snip of the scissors filling the room completely. Stan's weak attempts to slap away the scissors or otherwise stop his disrobing were all but brushed off by the ‘doctor.’ A quick but very intentional blade to the neck was all he needed to freeze Stan up and allow him to continue.

Very soon, Vaughn had the shredded fabric that used to make up Stan's shirt sprawled across the floor at their feet. Stan didn't even feel the coolness of the room goosebumping his skin anymore, not with the burning red in his cheeks and the again wandering hands of Sweater-vest to keep him unbearably warm.

He could scarcely breathe. His brain started to feel farther and farther away from his body. His hair was standing on end, shivers running throughout his entire body making him twitch. And he wondered if he should even put in the effort to ground himself. Maybe it would be easier if he was far, far away for all of this anyway.

“It's not like I care, Stan. It doesn't matter to me. I'll even let you keep your chest binder thing on, if that’d make you more comfortable... Hey.”

He snapped a few times in front of Stan's eyes, and Stan despairingly snapped back to reality. So close too. Just for Sweater-vest to smile his weird creepy smile at him. There was no way to misconstrue the malicious gleam in his eyes, the one that made Stan's own eyes go wide and his breath halt entirely as he stared into them. His other hand was on Stan's back now. He was practically holding Stan in a facsimile of a hug. Pressing in his lower back. Lower. Just a bit too low for comfort.

“I'm serious, I can work with that,” he reassured, hand now dipping under Stan's waistband, and before Stan could react, he pulled the captive in close to him, pressing his pelvis securely into Stan's lower stomach while brushing to closed blades of the scissors along Stan's jawline and up his cheek. “It's not what I was expecting, but it doesn't change what I'm going to do to you.”

And that's when Stan pulled back and punched him square in the jaw.

* * * * * * * *

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy | @pirefyrelight | @cakeinthevoid

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quitesins · 2 years

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hi!!! i love your bakugou stuff so much 💕 im not sure if you’re accepting request or anything like that but if you are would you be able to do something about his birthday since that’s coming up soon 🎂 ? it could be sfw or nsfw totally up to you!

Edit: well… it’s certainly not April anymore but heyyy 3 months after isn’t too late… right…

Edit: This was apart of a Bakugou birthday event I did!! I do not do requests!!

Bakugou Birthday Request

Masterlist

Tags: Sfw, but suggestive/implicit [not smut doe], fem!reader, probably ooc, freestyling so mind the lack of direction, no edit no reread, just me against da world

No plot, just vibes, kinda like snapshots of what might seem like the most boring birthday ever but to Katsuki , a day with you? Best he could ever have.

There’s something strange going on. It’s too quiet, maybe even eerily silent. He’s always been attentive, but he doesn’t need to pay attention to know why he feels off. It’s you.

You’ve been distant. Not angrily, so he knows you aren’t mad, but you’ve been awfully secretive. Closing tabs as he enters the room, phone calls you take in private. Katsuki trusts you- he doesn’t think anything dramatic- but he knows you’re hiding something.

“Alright. Fuck is it?” Katsuki despite his own stubbornness- can also get impatient, and he was just about on his last straw. “What the hell have you been hiding from me.”

The mischievous glint in your eyes tells him your answer won’t be useful.

“Nothing at all.” You hum not looking back from the tea you were brewing. “What ever could you mean?” His grumbles accompany your giggles as you hand him a cup. “It’s a new blend, I think you’ll like it.”

You don’t stay to drink with him and he eyes you down, int ent on figuring out what the hell you’ve been up to.

While Katsuki is definitely not a stealth hero, his tendency to ‘accidentally’ listen in on conversations that don’t involve him- can come in useful sometimes. Like now, as he washes his cup, ears perked up in the direction of your shared room.

“Well of course he knows somethings up.”

Huh, so there is something going on.

“Just want it to be perfect this year.”

This year? It’s not your anniversary, he has that planned in advance. A celebration? No, the extras would have spammed the chat about something like that.

“Thanks for all your help. Make sure to keep quiet though! Not to ruin the surprise!”

Okay now he feels bad, whatever it is, it’s meant to be a secret.

However his guilt is short lived when you return to the kitchen, smirk plastered on your face. Oh he can feel the smugness of your grin, even when he turns away with a huff.

“Come on Kats’” You laugh as he half stomps away. “It’s nothing really!”

“You’re a liar, [Name]!” He shouts back, melodramatically. “A liar!”

Days have passed and although he tries to be petty, it’s hard to give you the silent treatment when he loves you so much. It still confuses him when you go off on your own, knowing how clingy you can be, but he doesn’t wish to argue.

But then suddenly it hits him.

His birthday is coming up.

Katsuki groans. Something different? All the secretive little calls and tabs closed too quick. Something meant to be a surprise? Don’t tell him it’s a party.

It isn’t that he hates it- he could never hate something from you- but he’s always preferred the peace, as much as it doesn’t always seem like it.

Each year- since he met you at least- he’s spent his birthdays quietly. Just with you, whatever you did, to enjoy each other’s presence. One birthday you had spent hiking, hand in hand as you reached your favourite spot and seated on the grass with your makeshift picnic. Another, the two of you spent the evening cruising through the hills, where the sounds of the city were far far away. One of his favourite birthdays, you both just sat together, going through greasy takeout, laughing about nothing in particular. With the jam packed schedule of a pro, these birthdays, no matter how simple, are perfect to him.

So he isn’t sure what to expect as the day approaches.

He wakes up to an empty bed, well not quite. Your blanket and pillow had been stuffed by him, almost boxing him in cozily. He snorts at your attempts to satiate his need for you. It’s the same thing he does with his rigorous routine of waking hours before you do. It’s still dark out, and he wonders how you’ve even managed to wake before him.

There’s humming, coming from the kitchen, and he can already smell the burning pancakes. He’s up before he even realises, making his way over to you. Katsuki knows you aren’t going to actually burn anything till it’s a hazard- or he hopes so at least- but he’d rather not take his chances.

When he sees you, you jump, startled, having been concentrating on pouring out the batter. It almost spills, but Katsuki’s already got his hand reached out to keep it stable.

“You- you’re meant to be asleep.” You frown.

“And let your burn our house down?” His eyebrow raises in jest. You just push him lightly in response.

He turns the stove down for you, flipping your half done pancake and placing it on the rest of the pile.

“‘M gonna go freshen up. Do not try make anymore.”

“Fine.” You say, exaggerated in reluctance. “Won’t touch a thing.”

He kisses your cheek before taking his leave. “That’s my girl.”

Breakfast goes by fast. The two of you eventually cooking together, despite Katsuki’s hesitance in letting you near the stove again. The day still feels normal, like all the birthdays before, but he still remains a little on edge.

Throughout the day, although it had been comfortable, he eyes you suspiciously. Which you return with you’re own faux glare of course.

“What are you planning…” He questions, as the two of you prepare for a small hike on a nearby trail.

“What? Me?” You gasp dramatically. “Not a thing.”

Of course he still doesn’t believe you, but ignores it. You kiss him before taking his hand and walking out together.

The trek is nice. The two of you reach the high of a hill, far from anyone else. He watches as the colours of the sun illuminate you prettily. How the trees seem to create a backdrop, for you to become the view.

“Want to take a picture? You know it would last longer.” You joke, posing slightly.

He brings himself closer, so you can feel the words he whispers. “Nah, I’d want to take so much more.”

When the two of you arrive back home, it’s with frantic hands and heavy breaths. Even through the shower you both share, it’s one where water falls to the floor, splashes against the walls. And when the two of you end, he kisses you once, twice, until you both have to pull away, before you start it all over again.

The day had already began to settle, by the time the two of you have made a bed of the sofas, sitting snug in each others arms. A movie plays, one that neither of you pay much attention to, already content. He thinks you might’ve fallen asleep, the way your breaths are soft, but you shuffle out of his grip and he gives you a look of confusion.

“I’ll be right back. Okay?” Ah right, he still hasn’t figured out what you’ve spent the last month giggling about. At least it can’t be a party, he thanks, but he still waits for your return with an eyebrow raised.

When you do return, it’s with something large and heavy in your arms. It’s wrapped, unmistakably by you.

“For me? Baby?” Katsuki doesn’t just have a flair on for the dramatics on the battlefield, in moments like this, he can tease too.

“Yes for you. Here.” He takes the large package from your hands, and places it in his lap as you shuffle back beside him.

The wrapping is gaudy, orange, like his hero colours, and with a black ribbon fastened loosely. It’s a little messy, but cute.

When he tears through the wrapping, he isn’t quite sure what it is. It’s a book, that much he can tell, with ‘DYNAMIGHT’ splayed across the cover. Still, it feels rather heavy for a simple notebook.

“Open it.” You look giddy urging him on.

He flips it open, the first page is on orange paper, with words he knows is in your handwriting. To Katsuki, it starts, a gift from me- he snorts at the vaguely familiar figure of you doodled onto the page— and all those who love you.

It’s a scrapbook. Created by you, and as it says, all those who love him.

The first pages are from his family, his mother having made sure to use the worst images she could find. Pictures of a baby Katsuki, in a sailor suit, an all might costume, even one where he’s dressed like a bunny for Easter. You giggle as he groans but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Further, there comes pages of Dynamight. The symbol of victory. News paper clippings, from his start up to his best moments, even the cut out of an article where he was compared to a popular Internet cat. Growing older, it’s been a journey in learning. All the lessons he’s learned through life and death, it lets him be proud of what he’s achieved, and with the way you squeeze at his shoulder, he knows you are too.

There’s even a few pages from the nerd, meticulously detailed as expected. There’s pictures of them as children, captions that go off on tangents underneath, and others of them as adults, side by side as pros. He sucks in a breath at the distinct gap between the two ages. But then, he spots the frayed image of their middle school graduation and smiles. Deku… he’s glad they are still friends.

The rest of the pages from friends are full of some of the worst and the best of his teenage years. He rolls his eyes at the abundance of gym shots on a page clearly made by Kirishima. Denki’s is full of pictures of Katsuki caught at unflattering angles, with memes stuck around. Sero’s is covered in Polaroids of the two of them, taped to the pages in criss cross patterns. Mina and Jirou seem to have joined in their efforts, for their page actually pops out when he opens it, playing a song him and Jirou used to listen to in high school. Even Half and half has a page, mostly of pictures Katsuki reluctantly agreed to, all with him in a scowl compared to Shouto’s polite smile. The rest of his former class comes together for a page of short and sweet- well mostly sweet- messages, wishing him a happy birthday.

He startles when he gets a page covered in a familiar signature- All Might’s signature. Katsuki looks back at you almost in disbelief. You’d only met All Might once, through Katsuki no less. So what connections did you have where you could get ahold of All Might for something like a craft project. You just raise your chin haughtily and laugh, telling him to keep going.

There’s pages from Best Jeanist, Aizawa, even a joint page of a few of the other teachers at U.A. All saying how proud they are of him, doting on how far he’s come- Aizawa adding on a ‘Don’t get too cocky though.’ at the end of his message.

Then he gets to your pages.

It’s decorated the way he immediately knows it’s you.

The pages are covered in pictures of the two of you. From dates, from selfies at home, even a few pictures of each other caught off guard. In your writing, it’s details he isn’t even sure he could remember.

One picture has you cuddled up with a bear that he won for you. Of course he had been nothing but proud of his win, until you insisted the bear looked exactly like him, and spent the rest of the evening cooing after the inanimate object. He is not jealous of the bear, he says, to this day.

Dressed to the nines, there’s a photo snatched straight from the tabloids. You both stand on a red carpet, from the first hero gala he took you to. He remembers nearly choking when he saw you all dolled up, tempted to cancel the evening and spend it just with you. You looked too excited though so he quelled that thought and showed you off to the world [of course, not without the promise that later that night, you’d be all his.]

Another picture is of the two of you much younger, maybe one of your first dates. Fresh out of school, he was a wide eyed sidekick working to make it big. He never expected he’d meet someone like you quick. And he never expected it would only take a few months for him to realise, you were the one.

He laughs at the little doodles scattered around the page. A few of him as Dynamight, some of the two of you holding hands, even a few scribbles of a suspiciously familiar looking bear. He flusters at the flood of compliments written at the end of sticker arrows pointing directly to him. Words like Handsome, Pretty and Strong.

Finally, he looks to see there’s a paragraph written at the bottom of the page. However, before he can read it, he’s surprised by the sudden splash of something hitting the paper.

Oh.

He’s crying.

From behind, your arms come to cozy around his shoulders, nuzzling into his neck. “Didn’t think I’d make the great Dynamight cry with something like this.”

He laughs shakily and you hug closer. “‘M not crying, idiot.”

Katsuki can feel the way your lips curve. Can feel how your smile meets his skin. So he turns with a sudden intensity, wanting to feel that same smile, pressed right against his.

He doesn’t have to bring himself forward. He doesn’t have to ask. He just trusts you will know.

And you do, kissing him gently.

“Happy birthday Katsuki.”

Very very late, Katsuki my meow meow deserves better fr……

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