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undead-supernova · 12 days

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Boring! / Masterlist

(part two here)

pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

plot: despite being intimidated by your confidence, Eddie decides to try and talk to you (and it pays off)

warnings: drinking, men acting weird, reader being sure of herself and extroverted, Eddie being a little subby 'cause he's a cutie pie, making out, no smut

wc: 2.4k

inspo: this last week I have become obsessed with Lil Mariko's music, specifically Don't Touch, Boring, I'm Baby, Hi, I'm a Slut, etc. I was inspired by her attitude and her sound to create a reader that I don't ever see but want! I include some of her lyrics in here as dialogue so go check her out and support her thanks!

(can you tell I'm a slut for girlypop trap metal/screamo? also wow I love this so much)

Eddie was a sucker for going to parties alone.

It wasn’t like he tried to, but considering all his other friends ended up at other colleges, Eddie felt compelled to at least try to meet people. But it was for naught, just a bout of self-sabotage and eye rolls at himself. He would end up sitting by himself on a beer-stained couch, drink in one hand and a joint in another. Bitterly filling the house with smoke. And, Jesus, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even spoken to anyone.

But then…well…

“Wow, what a sad bitch. Too bad money can’t buy you a personality. I’d buy one for you, but I won’t. You’re just so fucking lame.”

You threw a drink in some guy’s face, laughing hysterically as you watched him practically growl in anger. With a hand on your hip, sharp nails grazing a short silk dress, you looked like a wild lioness in an arena. Like you were ready to take a bite out of this dude and revel in his blood. Chew on his pound of flesh.

“Slut!” he shouted.

“Awh, thank you!” you exclaimed, your grin almost maniacal. Glossed lips somehow glimmering in the dim lighting. “Too bad you have to fucking grope women in order to get one to notice you.” Another laugh left your lips. “I should get a goddamn restraining order on you, shitdick.”

It was in that moment that Eddie fell in love with you.

Well, okay, he didn’t actually fall in love with you. But, god, he knew he could.

You were just so sure of yourself, always in control of the situation at hand. A dominating presence that commanded whatever room you were in. It was this magnetism that drew him to you, never leaving his sight whenever you showed up.

No matter how many times he had a knee jerk reaction to get involved when men wouldn’t keep their hands to themselves, you were always one step ahead. He’d watched you slap someone, kick them in the shins, in the balls, and even landed a nice right hook. All in your short dresses and six-inch heels. All sparkly and put together.

It made him weak, utterly susceptible to whatever it is that made you so alluring. This feminine rage, this disdain at the idea that women couldn’t be impolite. You let it be known that that was far from your mind. It wasn’t even defiance—it was just you.

And no matter the genre, you were moving and laughing with your friends. Practically gassing each other up as you grinded on one another. Eddie would take another six puffs of his joint, trying to let the smoke billow enough that he wouldn’t keep checking you out. But it was to no avail.

It was this itch in his brain, something only you could scratch. And he didn’t even know your name. No knowledge of your major or your preferences or whether you’d think he was as pretty as he found you to be. He thought it would always be this way.

Until Eddie thought that enough was enough. It was another Saturday party that you’d shown up to. He was back on that couch, back in that uncomfortable, stuffy attitude. You were standing around with your friends, finishing off a red solo cup and reapplying lip gloss over your lipstick. Carefully, methodically.

It was a crime and he knew he needed to commit one himself before he’d regret it.

“Fuck it,” Eddie muttered, pushing himself off of the couch and heading towards you. Smoothed out his hair, checked to make sure he still smelled good. Made sure his rings were straightened.

It felt like some kind of fate, the way your friends moved over to refill their cups as he approached. How prophetic, being able to get your attention with just a turn of your head. Put your hands on your hips.

“Uh, hi,” he started, immediately resisting the urge to wince at his awkwardness. Where the hell was his game? Did it run away because it was you?

You tilted your head, looking him up and down before smiling. Smiling. “Hi, there.”

“I’m Eddie.”

You giggled, looking slightly confused as you gave him yours. But in the smile that came after, he could tell you were amused.

“Hi, Eddie,” you said after your introduction. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Well,” he started, trying to formulate a sentence. “I’ve seen you around and I thought you seemed cool.”

“Oh, yeah?” you egged on, raising an eyebrow.

He silently nodded.

“I like your tattoos,” you complimented, still grazing his body with your eyes, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Eddie felt so exposed, so vulnerable to your gaze, nearly desperate for you to look him in the eye again. It would be easier than whatever you were starting to do to him.

But instead, you touched his left forearm arm and he froze. Literally froze.

“What’s this one all about?” you asked, tapping it with your pointer finger. Goosebumps flooded his arm as you traced it with the digit, your nail scratching at his skin. It was the most recent addition, a fiery red dragon with spurts of fire flicking off the sides and a black D20 wrapped inside its tail.

“Uh,” he started, blinking a few times as he tried to regain his composure. “I got it a few weeks ago. It’s, uh, a D&D thing?”

He didn’t mean for it to come out like a question but, to be honest, if you kept touching him like that, he was really going to embarrass himself. Well, not him. His dick. How pathetic.

Your eyebrows lifted again. “D&D?”

“Yeah, Dungeons & Dragons.”

“You know, I’ve heard of that,” you said with a small smile, removing your fingers before crossing your arms over your chest. Leaned back, sized him up. “But you should tell me more about it.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, really,” you replied with a chuckle. “Tell me about this thing it’s holding. What is that?”

“Well, it’s called a D-Twenty. It’s a dice that has twenty sides and, like, when you roll it, you get any number between one and twenty. It’s one of those things where the dice have rules and if you get below a fourteen, you’re destined to fail but if you go above a fourteen, you’re more likely to succeed. But then if you get a one then it’s called, uh, a critical failure. Automatic fail, you know? But if you get a twenty—”

“Hold on,” you said, holding up your hand as you glanced behind him. “Give me a minute.”

Eddie watched you walk past him, frozen in place. He’d really lost his chance, hadn’t he? He should’ve known better than to let himself actually talk about D&D. It was stupid! Absolutely pointless! A girl like you would never want to listen to someone blabber about a fucking fantasy game.

He should’ve known better.

The sound of your heels felt deafening as you stalked up to a guy and snapped your fingers in his face. "You've been staring at me for, like, a fucking hour. Can I help you?” The guy just stared. “Like, what's your problem? If you get near me, if you try to touch me? I swear to god, shitdick, I will take my Louboutins and castrate you."

Blubbering like a goddamn fish, the dude scratched at his head, clearly trying to come up with some kind of retort. “Hey, don’t fucking say shit to me when you’re putting it all out there for free. You expect guys to not wanna fuck you when your ass is out?”

Eddie’s fists clenched, ready to throw a punch before you had him beat.

“Yawn,” you moaned, dramatically stretching your arms out like you were getting ready for bed. “Can you shut the fuck up? I’m falling asleep listening to you. You’re so fucking boring.”

He stopped talking. The douche bag actually stopped, opting to stare at you with wide eyes as you absolutely annihilated him.

“You’re just talking to yourself at this point. Like, seriously, you’re fucking boring. Don’t talk to me."

That was when Eddie turned away, reasoning with himself that he lost your interest. He was just gonna be next, another weirdo that didn’t deserve your time. And, to be fair, he’d get it. Hell, he’d leave you the fuck alone forever if you said so. But he still had a grip on his pride, tucking his tail and ready to flee.

Eddie nearly gasped as he felt a pull on one of his belt loops, unable to process in time when you tugged him back towards you, face dangerously close to his. Your eyes tracing the lines of his lips as he struggled to breathe.

"Excuse me?” you nearly whispered. “Where do you think you're going? I didn't say you were boring, did I?"

“Ah,” he breathed, his heart racing as your grip tightened on his jeans. “N-no, I guess not.”

That earned a smile from you. “Exactly,” you said, louder this time. “Keep talking, pretty boy.”

As Eddie kept explaining the dice, you took his hand, holding it over your shoulder as you guided him back over to that couch he had been sulking on. Not once did he stop rambling, feeling compelled as you gave him little “mhm”s and “oh, yeah?”s that sounded like goddamn moans.

Nearly pushed him down to the cushion, crossing your legs as you actively listened. Actively listened.

Only interrupting when you lightly touched his long locks and asked, “Is this okay?”

And he nodded, stunned at you asking for his permission. Then you were telling him to keep going. With your pretty fingers wrapping around one of his curls, eyes nearly starry as he went along.

God, where did you come from? And how could he ever be the same?

“You’re so cool,” you said when he’d finally decided to shut up. “Really smart.”

“Nah,” he scoffed, trying to keep the heat from rushing to his cheeks. “I just have, like, specific interests.”

“That you know everything about,” you pointed out, pressing your pointer finger to his cheek. “I don’t think I could memorize all of that.”

“Well, what do you like?” he asked, now feeling more sure of himself.

You chuckled. “Is this when you ask me what my major is?”

Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes, all too aware of the stereotypical conversation starter. And to quote you earlier: Yawn.

“How many guys have tried that?” he wondered. “And how many did you kick in the face?”

That earned a grin from you, something all proud and appreciative. Like he cracked some goddamn code.

“Too many to count,” you responded, shaking your head. “But because I think you’re sweet, I’ll tell you the truth. I’m undecided. I think I could look into art history or literary analysis. I just want to make the right choice before I commit to it.”

Eddie nodded, feeling electricity begin to sparkle in his chest as you went into detail about your favorite female artists and poets, how you’d spent the last few months becoming obsessed with analysis. How you pictured it as a web of tangled strings that you meticulously unraveled.

And the more you talked, the more he yearned for you to keep going. Keep filling his head with your thoughts and ideas.

Then you said the one thing that brought him to nirvana.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked.

“Absolutely,” he answered immediately.

And then your lips were on his.

And it was a magical experience to have your lipstick flood his mouth, growing feverish as the flavor faded and he could now only taste you.

Now, Eddie didn’t consider himself to be submissive, per se. But he certainly had no problem letting you lead the way, wrapping his curls in your fingers, your nails, and tugging him wherever you wanted. Gnashing teeth, the little moan that escaped your mouth as your tongue curled around his.

And if his boner hadn’t been visible before, he knew damn well it was now, especially when your other hand met the back of his neck, your nails painstakingly slow as they scraped down to his shoulders. A whine left his lips, all shaky and high-pitched. A fucking whine in the middle of some party at some loser’s house.

But it only drove you further, biting his lips and whispering, “That’s a good boy, hm?”

He gasped. And as if you knew the embarrassment was starting to pool in his stomach, you threw your leg over his waist and returned the noise. Moved your lips to his jaw and raked your teeth over his neck.

And when Eddie had enough strength to open his eyes, he nearly groaned again at your exposed thigh, dress rising up over the curl of your ass. But Eddie felt nervous to touch you, felt nervous to let himself indulge. Not when you hadn’t given permission.

You weren’t delicate, he knew this. A woman with the power and grace of royalty, waltzing around parties with all that intelligence; all that bark that also bites.

He wanted you to be his.

Putting his hand on your shoulder, you backed away. Stared up at him through your eyelashes, lipstick smothered around your mouth.

“I, um, I know, like, you may want to go somewhere, but,” Eddie began to stutter, trying to get the blood away from his cock. Focus, focus. “I’d rather take you out on a date first.”

And that’s when he saw you grin. It wasn’t all dominant and flirty. No, it was something genuine, all bashful with your shoulders turning inward. Was he…did his words leave you shy?

“You want to take me out on a date?” you asked.

“Of course I do. I’ve wanted to for a while now.”

“Um, I’d really like that,” you said with a nod. “Keep telling me about that game, though,” you demanded lightly, taking your thumb and attempting to wipe your lipstick from his mouth. He started to try and return the gesture, causing you to giggle. “‘Cause I have some very important questions.”

The rest of the night and early morning was spent spilling knowledge into one another, always listening. Always finding each other’s lips again, quiet whispers of Is this okay? and You taste really nice and Would you keep talking?

When the night ended and he drove you back to your dorm, you made a promise of dinner and a trip around a museum. Made him promise you three times before he gave you a wink and a chuckle.

And it sounded damn near crazy, but maybe Eddie really was in love.

thank you for the lovely divider @strangergraphics :')

#Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson/reader #Eddie munson x you #Eddie munson/you #Eddie x you #Eddie x reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie Munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #one of my favs I've written!!!!

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gatorbites-imagines · 4 months

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Hello!

I've been getting very into DC again, from all the comics I had in my attic.

So i would like to request a "meeting the batfam" like think.

Being Bruce's new boyfriend and meeting the kids and how would they react.

Have a nice day! (You're the only think keeping me from commiting a crime/jk)

Bruce Wayne x male reader

Headcanons

Ive been on a kick lately of making half-god characters, so reader is the son of a god, hehe ^^

You were the son of Ares, a half god, and the son of a god most feared, and that the Justice league had fought many times.

So, by relation, many people didn’t trust you when they learned about your parentage. Had you been any crueler of a person, that might have driven you down a path where you followed in your fathers’ footsteps, but you weren’t.

You ended up inheriting many of his powers, even gaining his clairvoyance and precognition in dreams. Said dreams had been your first sign that you were more than just your average person, as you foresaw many of the larger disasters around the world.

There ends up being a sense of duty in your heart as your dreams keep warning you about an invasion of earth, becoming more and more detailed every night. It reaches a point where you think you are going mad.

As a last-ditch effort, you end up in Gotham, where you spend days trying to find any of the bats, just trying to find somebody to believe you. In the end, you stumble across Bruce, who probably thinks you are on something because of the less than put together state you are in.

That is until you spill everything you have been dreaming about, and how its all happened, and how this dream keeps haunting you every night.

Bruce of course listens to everything you have to say, and takes you as seriously as anything else he would. He keeps your warning in mind and gets prepared, and when your precognition comes to pass, he is ready.

From then in, Bruce passes by your place every now and then, as you end up moving to Gotham as Batman is the only hero you feel takes you seriously.

Hes the one to help you figure out your true parentage, and gets you in contact with some people who can help you deal with your new developing powers. You two end up bonding a lot, and over time, fall in love.

You both make each other feel like a full person and like you are understood. The relationship is kept quiet on Bruces end, not because he doesn’t trust his family or anything, but because he just wants to keep it to himself for a bit.

It does get a bit hard to hide the hand shaped bruises on his hips or torso when your godly strength slips out, but Bruce has lived with worse aches and bruises in his life, so its not something people notice.

You never went out of your way to become a hero, even with your godly powers. You are happy living your life and being together with Bruce, much of your stress gone since you know Bruce will believe you when it comes to your dreams.

When the day finally comes where you go to meet his family, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. Sure, you’ve met them in passing as their vigilante alter egos, when they’ve followed Bruce during his meetings with you, but this will be as Bruces lover.

Bruce is endeared by how hard you want to make a good impression, how you fuss with your hair and your clothes to be most presentable. When you ask him if you need to bring a gift or something, he just laughs a little and kisses your forehead, telling you to stop worrying as he’s sure they’ll love you.

The family all know Bruce is bringing his lover that night for family dinner, but they all don’t know who it is, even Alfred is in the dark.

They are all a bit on edge, as Bruce doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to partners. And since he didn’t tell them a name, they assume its not the people he’s normally been with, like Selina or Talia.

Imagine their surprise when Bruce arrives with you on his arm, from your civilian clothes to your sheepish smile, to you looking downright nervous to meet them as you clearly want to make a good first impression.

It might take a bit for any of them to recognize you, as only a few of them might have met you in passing, but you probably end up telling them during dinner when they ask how you and Bruce met.

I can’t see them being against you more than they would any other partner, especially when you go out of your way to use your dreams and abilities to help as many people as possible.

Cass is most likely the one to warm up to you first, as she can easily read that you are a good person who loves Bruce very much, and Cass’s approval makes the others become less tense and more open to the idea of you.

Alfred is also happy that Bruce has found someone who isn’t a criminal or assassin for once, even though they all know you could punch a guy to smithereens if you wanted too, thanks to your godly strength.

But your personality makes it clear that’s not something you want to do, so that gives you extra points in their books. They most likely use their knowledge from Diana and her parentage when it comes to you, incase you end up doing something a little too godly without realizing.

They’ve all been around many different kinds of people and beings, so I don’t think anything you do put them off. They’ll all just need time to warm up to you, and see with their own eyes that you truly do love Bruce, and that Bruce loves you back just as much.

It would take a while, as they were all trained by Bruce and are all suspicious of anybody and take forever to trust. It starts to make you think they’ll never like you, even when Bruce tells you they will, they just need time.

You know you’ve gained their trust when they start showing up in your apartment, be it after patrol, during the day, or any other time, they’re likely to just appear. This also means you end up learning a lot more first aid than you thought you’d ever need.

The last to trust you is Damian, but you can tell you scored a win when he demands you learn self-defense, as your form is horrible, and he drags you down to the cave to walk you through the basics.

Bruce feels like his heart could burst with love when he sees his family accepting you, and he couldn’t be any happier. The batfam is pretty damn happy too, as Bruce starts taking care of himself because of you.

Can’t have a date if he hasn’t slept in days, or if he’s covered in bruises or has broken bones. You probably end up spending a lot of time at the manor too, since Bruce can’t just go into town to spend time in your apartment during the day, or else the paparazzi would find out about the relationship almost immediately.

So, all in all, his kids would like you quite a lot after they got enough time to learn what kinda person you were, and what your morals were. They might even start seeing you as a safe person to go too when they need someone to talk too or just need some company.

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moon-rivr · 4 months

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I need a fic about Miguel lusting after nurse fem!reader! I imagine he got hurt around her apartment and being that he is Spider-Man and she is a nurse she decides to take him into her apartment and fix him up. She is so caring and kind to he and this starts to become a thing where spider-man gets her to heal him.

So Miguel never reveals his identity to her but he’s like falling hard for her. Like thinking about her all the time (especially when he is in the shower lol). Let’s say one day he’s feeling like a little under the weather so he decides to go to where she works to get a check up and medicine (and hopefully to see her outside of his costume for once) so when he finally sees her he’s trying to charm her flirt a bit like he does when he’s behind the mask, but she is not having it. She acts cold and disinterested because one, guys flirt with nurses all the time and two, she has feelings for spider-man. Then you can do what you want with the ending but I would like if they get together in the end maybe you can squeeze some NSFW in there. Honestly this might make a pretty cute series!

little nurse

pairing: miguel o’hara x nurse fem reader

contents: mentions of blood/injuries and masturbation (m)

author’s note: decided to split this up into two parts, i hope you don’t mind :) very limited medical knowledge btw (one szn of grey’s anatomy and dr mike accounting for that 😖)

word count: 4.1K

Miguel O'Hara appeared in your life out of thin air. Literally.

You were trudging home from work around eleven at night, your scrubs smelling like disinfectant and dark circles adorning your under eyes. You'd been looking forward to taking a shower and getting as much sleep as you could before your next shift, your plans completely shifting when someone dropped in front of you. A masked man landed in front of you, clad in a Spider-Man costume. The sleep that you were longing for quickly faded away, replaced by a feeling of concern as you kneeled over to see if he had fractured his spine or his head with the fall. "How many fingers am I holding up?" You asked, holding up three as you waited for some kind of assurance that he was awake.

After receiving no response from the man, you dragged him into your apartment to work on him inside. You were grateful to whatever entity there was above that you lived in a downstairs apartment, the task of taking the man inside proving more difficult than you'd originally thought. You let out a small huff as you dragged him onto the rug in the center of your living room, shutting the door afterwards. You looked down at the man, almost tempted to take off the mask and reveal who was underneath the Spider-Man mask. After more careful consideration, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea while he was in such a vulnerable position and grabbed your phone from your purse.

You'd gotten some old blouses that you were planning on throwing away, using them as a tourniquet around his stomach to stop the bleeding. You pressed two fingers to his neck to try to feel for a pulse, a bit slow but at a steady rhythm. After making sure his heartbeat was stable, you pressed your head down to your chest to listen for his breathing, the sound coming out ragged. "Stay with me, please," you silently whispered as your bloody fingers typed away at your phone screen, opening up the phone app. You'd finished up typing up the final one of the emergency number, a large gloved hand stopping you from answering the dispatcher on the other line.

"No, no. Please don't do that," the masked man underneath you pleaded as he slowly started to regain consciousness. You were made aware that not only would he run the risk of getting his identity exposed, but he'd also run the risk of having the nypd arrest him for the crimes he's committed as a vigilante. "Now do you understand why I can't go to the hospital?" He asked, almost like he wanted to make sure what stood at stake for him. "Okay, I'll trust you for now. But if you start bleeding out in my living room, then I'll take you to the hospital. Does that sound good?" You answered reluctantly, watching as he nodded.

You grabbed some gloves from one of your kitchen drawers, kneeling down next to him as you reached for the zipper on the back. "Do you mind if I take this off?" You asked, wanting to get his approval before you got started on anything. "Whatever you need to do to me, doc," he answered, sitting a bit up so you could reach the zipper better. You zipped down his suit, pulling it off his arms and sliding it down to his stomach. "How's your head? You hit it pretty hard when you fell," you asked him, wanting to get a better assessment of how his health was. You felt around his stomach, trying to find if there was any internal bleeding but you knew that the results would be more accurate with a CT scan.

"My head's fine, just a bit of blindness in my right eye," he deadpanned, your eyebrows practically shooting up to your hairline as you turned to look at him. "I'm joking, doc. I'm all good," he added, a small chuckle following after. "I'd smack you if your ribs weren't probably broken right now," you muttered, getting up from the floor to grab a suture kit from your bedroom. Only the sounds of his breathing could be heard as you worked on the large gashes covering most of his abdominal region, steady fingers working the needle through the thread to stop any further bleeding. You wiped away at some of the dried blood, cleaning him up to the best of your ability before pressing your hands down on his stomach to see if he had any further pain.

"I don't have any strong meds at my house, I only have Tylenol so I hope that works for you," you announced as you looked over at your medicine cabinet, surprisingly empty for the line of work that you'd chosen. "Give me the prognosis, doc. How long do I have to live?" he asked as you handed him the bottle of pills with a glass of a water. "I'm not a doctor, just a nurse. And I'd say a couple more minutes, if you're lucky. Might last longer if you don't annoy me as much," you teased him back, grabbing a couple bandages to finish up with the job. You wrapped them around the places where you placed the stitches, making him a little first aid kit just in case he'd need it. "If your stitches pop out or anything, just come back here. You know where I live."

He pulled the zipper back on, grabbing the first aid kit from you before he headed towards the door. "I'll see you next time I get hurt, little nurse," he told you, making it seem more like a promise than a goodbye. "Try not to make this a daily thing, please," you responded before he had the chance to leave, the eyes of his mask slightly raising. "I can't make any promises, lindura," he swung away after he finished speaking, sticking to the building in front of your apartment complex. You couldn't help but look out at him as he left, watching the way that he maneuvered the webs to the best of his ability despite the injuries that he'd sustained.

Miguel continued to seek you out as his nurse every time that he got hurt after that, enjoying the small banter and jokes between the two of you. Getting to be around you once more felt like the highlight of every fight that he got into, the assurance that you would be there to patch him up giving him the motivation that he needed to get up and fight crime. Despite the small jabs that you took at him, you proved to care about him time and time again with each wound that you treated. You never asked him any questions about his identity, never made him out to be anything bigger than what he had to be. Despite the fact that he wore the mask around you, he'd never felt more exposed around a human being in his life before.

Miguel found himself to be distracted by the thought of just seeing you again, constantly. He found himself wanting to get hurt just so he'd have an excuse to need your assistance, to have your soft hands running across his flesh as you stitched him up. His attention wasn't diverted only when he was dressed up as Spider-Man, the affection that he held towards you following him all the way to the lab he worked at. He'd mixed up two chemicals that he shouldn't have, causing a negative reaction in one of the rats that he was testing on and having to discard his experiment completely. "Focus, O'Hara. We're not here to pick up after your messes," his co-worker and superior, Aaron Delgato, told him during lunchtime with that same stupid smug expression he always carried on his face.

Normally, Miguel would've had something to respond back with but he couldn't find it in him to care that much at the moment. "Yeah, yeah," he ended up muttering back, pushing away his concerns as he sipped at the bitter coffee from the cafeteria. Normally the bitter taste of the coffee would've made him spit out the substance, the taste becoming slightly better when you were at the forefront of his mind. Instead of throwing it away after the first sip, he ended up taking a couple more sips before throwing it away in the sink. He spent the day at work focusing on his reports, having to stay a bit later to make up for the work that he'd messed up earlier just so he wouldn't have to deal with Aaron's condescending comments and stupid smirk as he questioned Miguel's ability to work the job he did.

He got home at around 6:30, two hours after his shift ended. The sound of door closing echoed throughout the empty halls of his home, the environment completely devoid of anything homely apart from a couple pictures and a bookshelf full of scientific journals that he'd enjoyed. He stripped away from his clothes once he got into his bedroom, wanting to remove himself from the lab as much as possible. He got into the shower before he had to head out for his vigilante duties, knowing that he knew would be too tired to do so when he got back home. The cold stream of water hit his muscles as he stood underneath, putting his forehead against the cold tiles of the wall. He felt depraved as he thought about you while he stood here, feeling himself grow more and more ashamed as he resisted the urge to wrap his hand around his cock.

Eventually, he ended up giving into his desires and wrapped his fingers tightly around his cock. He closed his eyes to help him envision a scenario with you, his mind running through with images of you underneath him. His grip on his cock tightened, wanting to replicate the feeling of what your cunt would feel like. He smeared some of the precum leaking out of his tip all around his shaft with his thumb, letting out a small hiss as he felt himself growing more aroused with every second that passed. He started off slow, wanting to prolong this orgasm as much as possible.

He pictured you starting off by sticking your tongue out for him as you sat on your knees underneath him, doe eyes looking at him expectantly as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Your mouth would engulf around the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it to capture every drop of precum that leaked out. His thumb ran around his tip to simulate every aspect of his scenario, precum sticking to his fingers as he did. He couldn't help but think about how beautiful you would look as you struggled to adjust to the feeling of his cock around your mouth, tears threatening to leak through as you fought off the urge to gag. "Oh shock, keep going," he moaned out, almost feeling like you were in the room with him.

His hand moved faster around his cock, fingers wrapped tightly around his shaft as he tried to get himself off. His eyes remained closed as the cold water ran through his body, his mind still continuing with the scenario from earlier. He felt his cock twitch in his hand, picturing how you would look with ropes of cum splattered onto your face. His release was more uneventful than he'd expected it to be, hit with the clarity of the situation immediately as the water washed the sticky substance from his hands. His forehead remained pressed against the shower wall, wanting to eliminate every negative thought that he'd been presented with. He felt perverted for taking advantage of you in this way, of taking advantage of the way that you were just so ready to help him out, but he couldn't help but feel his desire for you grow even more with every smile that you gave him.

He got out of the shower a couple minutes later, taking a few moments to reflect on what he'd done before finishing up with the rest of his shower routine. "Did you finish making the final adjustments to my suit?" He asked as his hologram assistant appeared next to him, a towel wrapped around his waist as he walked to the closet. "I did. You should find the material to be a bit more durable than the one that you previously used. Though the news reports show that it's going to be close to freezing so I would recommend for you to stay home," LYLA responded, before giving him the detailed report of what she'd done to his suit. "Crime doesn't stop just because it's a little cold. I'm sure I'll be fine," he muttered, grabbing the suit hanging up on the back of his closet.

Miguel shivered as he sat on top of a rooftop, overlooking the city as he waited for something to happen. He would have to make a mental note to add some insulation to the redesign of his suit, finding every minute outside to be excruciating. He removed the bottom part of his mask, blowing onto his bare hands as he rubbed them together. His feet swung on the edge of the building, ears perked up as he tried to listen in on conversations to discern whether anybody actually needed his help tonight. He was about to leave for the night around 30 minutes later, his plans getting stopped when he heard a lady scream across the street.

Miguel handed the purse back to the lady who was getting robbed, fighting the thugs that had tried to rob her proving to be the most exciting thing that happened all night. "Thank you Spider-Man!" The woman called out as he swung away, receiving a curt nod in response before he swung away. He ended up having to fight a couple low-grade robbers and car-jackers, nothing too big for the night. He got back home after finishing up the mundane tasks, feeling himself shivering even as he was welcomed by the warmth of the fireplace in his living room. LYLA had already started with her remarks about how he probably ended doing himself more harm than good, getting shut off two minutes into her monologue. He stripped off his clothing, sitting down on his couch with his legs spread out as he tried to warm up.

Miguel let out a groggy moan as he got up to the sound of his alarm, rubbing his hand across his temples as he laid on the couch. He could hardly get up to go to the bathroom, finding himself unable to head into work today. "I need to call in sick today," Miguel mumbled into the phone, knowing that Aaron was probably rejoicing at his weakened state. "You already messed up the experiment and now you want to take the day off? You're really slacking here, O’Hara," aaron remarked with a small 'tsk', speaking just loud enough for anyone to be able to overhear their conversation. "I don’t see why I have to explain myself to you but I'm sick. The experiment's gonna end even more messed up if I do end up showing up," Miguel answered, a small cough coming out of his end almost on cue.

After getting the reluctant approval of Aaron to stay home, miguel made his way to his bedroom and snuggled underneath his blanket. "LYLA, set up an appointment for me tomorrow at the medical center downtown please," he asked his ai assistant, his words coming out raspy and hoarse. "Why would you want me to do that? I can give you a full health assessment and recommend the right types of medicine that you need, Way better than a doctor ever could," she responded, appearing next to him with a face mask and little nurse hat on. "If I wanted you to do that, I would've asked. Just set me the appointment please," he mumbled, reaching over on his bed stand to get a tissue. LYLA was about to protest once more, but decided to go ahead and do the task when she heard Miguel coughing once more.

Miguel spent most of the day in bed, sweating underneath his tiger blanket despite the fact that he felt himself shivering. He found out the hard way that Vaporub did not in fact cure every one of his aches, though his nose wasn't too stuffed up after using it. He got up around 6 pm when he felt his stomach grumble, walking over to the kitchen to make himself something to eat. He turned on the afternoon news, wanting to make sure there wasn't anything too bad threatening the city. He saw that there had been a couple reports of robberies around the city, leaving it up to the police since he wasn't sure how useful he would be with his nose running every minute. He turned off the tv and poured the chicken soup that had been brewing on the oven into plate, sitting down at the dinner table to have something to eat. All he could do for now was simply wait for what the doctor would prescribe him, a part of him hoping that he would be able to see you.

"Miguel O'Hara?" You called out, looking around the sickly people in the waiting room before a tall man stood up. "That's me," he responded, his sinuses clearly stuffed up as he spoke. You led him back into the rooms, walking to the treatment rooms as you looked through the clipboard. "It's been a while since you've been here so i'm gonna go ahead and update your medical file," you informed him, looking back at him as he nodded. You led him to a wall with a measure taped on it, grabbing a pen from one of the pockets of your scrubs. You were about to take his height, noticing that his figure loomed over the measure. Your eyes widened slightly, your mind rubbing through what you could possibly do.

You grabbed an extra measure from a drawer, grabbing a chair nearby before getting up on it to tape it up on the wall. "You could've asked me to do that, y'know? I wouldn't have minded doing a favor for such a pretty nurse," he mused as he looked up at you, his lips immediately pursing together at the dirty look that you shot him. You got off from the chair, looking up at the two measures taped together before counting the extra inches. "Alright, 6'9," you muttered to yourself, writing it down on the clipboard before motioning for him to step on the electronic scale next to the side. You took his weight after the machine stopped counting, writing down the results before leading him to his assigned treatment room.

You washed your hands at the sink, putting on a bit of hand sanitizer before putting on a pair of gloves. "What seems to be the problem?" You asked, wanting to get a synopsis of what he thought was wrong before you made any guesses. "The problem is that you haven't accepted a dinner invitation with me. I'm sure my cold would heal a lot faster if you did, just saying. Trust me, I'm also a doctor," he mused, relishing as you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. While you'd had your fair share of patients flirt with you, having to deal with their advances tested your patience bit by bit. The man in front of you wasn't exactly unattractive, but he didn't make you feel the same excitement that you felt every time that you saw Spider-Man. You folded your arms and looked at him, staying silent until he decided to divulge what had been bothering him.

"My nose's stuffed up, my chest feels like it's full of phloem, and I can't stop coughing up a lung," he responded, allowing you to get a glimpse of what was really bothering him. "It sounds like you just have a cold but I'll get your blood work done just to make sure that I get an accurate result," you told him, grabbing a small needle to prick him. Before he got the chance to tell you that the blood work wouldn't reveal much, you'd already collected the blood in a small tube. "The doctor will be right with you, Mr. O’Hara," he'd heard you say before the door closed, leaving him alone with the knowledge that you didn't feel the same way about him while he was unmasked.

The doctor came in and did what they were supposed to, taking his heartbeat and his temperature. "It seems like you just have a cold, Mr. O’Hara. Take some time to rest at home and don't overexert your body," the doctor had warned him, handing him a small paper with a prescription for what seemed to be cough syrup on it. He took the paper from the doctor, looking over at you with a small smile as you stepped into the room. The doctor handed the chart over to you, giving you a shortened explanation of what the diagnosis had been. You read over his chart, reaffirming what the doctor had already said before you dismissed him.

"I forgot to mention, your blood test came back inconclusive. I'm sure it was just the machine since it said it couldn't really identify you as fully human," you told him before he had the chance to leave, his figure looming over yours as he waited for you to finish speaking. "I hope you get your machine fixed soon. I'm sorry if i did something to damage it. By the way, are you certain that you don't want to say yes to that dinner I mentioned earlier?" He insisted with his previous offer, his hand lingering on the doorknob as he waited for your response. "I'm sure, thank you for the very kind offer," you reaffirmed, stepping out of the room once he'd walked out.

You headed to the back to talk with your friends, seeing Miguel at the hospital's pharmacy to get the cough syrup prescription filled. "I heard you rejected your patient's advances when he asked you out to dinner. This one's pretty cute and rich, so what happened?" Nurse Maya asked you, pretending to sift through some files just in case a doctor passed by. "Girl, you know she's obsessed over that Spider-Man guy. How's it been going treating him for free, anyways?" Your other friend, Nurse Valeria asked, looking up from her computer just to take note of your expression. You hated how easy the news travelled in the hospital, avoiding Miguel’s gaze as you turned to look at your two friends.

"It's been going decent, thank you. And there's nothing new to tell, Spider-Man hasn't been showing up to my house lately. I kinda have missing being his little nurse," you responded, watching as they both rolled your eyes. "Of course you had to go and fall in love with the masked psycho," Maya muttered before the three of you talked about something else. You couldn't help but laugh as Maya went through her recent dating dilemma, blissfully unaware to the fact that someone had been listening to your conversation while they were waiting for their prescription to be filled.

Miguel couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lips as he heard you speak about Spider-Man in the way that you did, speaking about his alter ego like a high school girl with a crush. "Mr. O'Hara?" The pharmacist behind the counter called out for what seemed to be the hundredth time, finally diverging his attention long enough from you to be able to do their job properly. "Thank you," Miguel mumbled awkwardly, the smile on his face quickly fading away as he paid for the cough syrup. He took a small spoonful of it in his car while he waited for the blue light to turn off, silently hoping that it would work and he could get back to fighting crime once more.

Though he felt a little discouraged at the way you'd shut him off with every flirting attempt that he made, he knew that at some level you had to feel some kind of attraction for him. His mind began coursing with different ideas of how to approach this situation, almost jealous of the way that you viewed his alternate ego. He started to wonder what it would be like if he was able to flirt with you the same way that he was able to as Spider-Man, what it would be like to have that confidence without the use of the mask. The way you spoke about him was almost endearing, the way that you described what it felt like to have Spider-Man come for your services and the way that you felt while you stitched him up. All that he knew is that he needed to come up with a solution about how to approach this crush for you and fast.

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zvdvdlvr · 11 months

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Hi there, friend . Please write if you have time a Soap, Ghost, Price, Alejandro, and Konig headcanons about a male partner with really big veiny hands.Hope you have a pleasent day or night .

- 141, alejandro, and könig with a male partner with large hands

☆ - warnings :: some nsfw topics, coarse language, neck snapping, features sub!könig, usual call of duty violence, male reader, short HCs,

☆ - characters :: john "soap" mactavish, simon "ghost" riley, captain john "bravo six" price, alejandro vargas, könig

☆ - k.j.'s diary says... i haven't written for CoD that much so i apologize for any inaccuracies or any out of character-ness.

kyle "gaz" garrick

SLUT ME OUT, SLUT ME OUT, SLUT-SLUT-SLUT ME OUT

bro was flabberghasted when he saw you gloveless- like, yes, he knows your hands are huge because of how easily you handle massive weapons but god almighty kyle almost started drooling when he saw you flex your hand while stretching your arm

silently admires the way you move in battle, your melee attacks, hand-to-hand, etc.

when you are dating, gaz for sure hints at his attraction to your hands if that wasn't obvious

gets turned on when you pin him to the ground while sparring and it shows

goes off on tangents about your hands when drunk

"they just- *hiccup* -they look so good, y'know? they'd look really nice around my ne-neck" (bro was passed out not even half an hour after saying this)

simon "ghost" riley

encourages you to snap someone's neck while out on the field

"christ, y/l/n" ghost (the first time he saw you do that

was drinking tea the first time he got a hood look at your bare hands

needless to say, tea was spilled in simon's lap

when you're together simon would come up with all these bullshit reasons to see your bare hands

not really into being choked, but would love watching you choke someone out

would ask you if you could choke-slam people

the answer was yes

simon loves being flipped off by you idk he thinks its hot

i like to think that while off duty simon can be a little bitch sometimes so whenever he turns around to go sulk he LOVES when you grab onto his belt loop or whatever and turn his ass around

captain john "bravo six" price

tried to keep his cool

also kept really quiet about his feelings

quiet.

loves holding your hand when off duty

so let's say price is the typa guy to enjoy back hugs? even better when he looks down to see your hands wrapped around his middle

has you demonstrate ways to snap/break necks to the newbies while watching with absolute adoration

did i mention price loves hand holding? i did? ok well just reminding you

u dont have to have big hands to know john loves kissing you with one of your hands in his hair and another tugging his belt loop so he's closer to you. hawt.

john "soap" mactavish

smiles widely while watching you snap someone's neck like it's nothing

doesn't even care if you choke him out if you did at least it's by your hands

choking kink question mark exclamation point

loves getting neck/upper back massages (non sexually you pervs) especially after a long day

a true simp.

will praise you till the end of time no matter how many war crimes you commit on the field

johnny likes when you help him trim/maintain his hair

it's such an intimate thing for him and the fact that you're helping take care of something so personal to johnny makes his heart swell

alejandro vargas.

will absolutely bring attention to the fact that your hands are massive

wolf whistles, even.

alejandro thinks it's the greatest thing ever making you flush

absolutely gushes to rudy about it

ok so now ur in a relationship:

ONE TIME alejandro was getting a bit too big for his britches so you stalked up to him and grasped his neck lightly. (if ur taller than him is what im imagining but wtv) ale was turned on

always wants to be touching you or you touching him

when he has free time he'll come find you, cuddle, play with your fingers while tou watch a movie or something

thinks about you jerking him off when you're both in a meeting or in a semi-public space

practically sings praises about how he loveloveloves your hands

könig

ok if your hands are larger than his than yes bro would pass tf out when he realized

would be very quiet about his attraction to your hands but his obvious staring spoke volumes

would immediately want to be slutted out when you had sex with him

plays with your hands when he's bored or really anxious

REALLY into you holding him by his neck and showing you how much he wants to be taken care of

loves when you tend to any sore muscles or wounds

honestly könig wants a simple, domestic life with all of the things hes seen

HAND HOLDING IS A MUST‼

watches you disassemble, clean, and reassemble guns like you didn't have ur fingers in his mouth the night before with a lopsided smile

you both spar together, learning from each other and being the duo that no other trio or group want to fight

together, you both are unstoppable. the admiration and personal connection you both have baffles many

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hdiabolical · 20 days

Text

A Mirror in Half-Light

18+ 1.5k. homelander x supe f!reader. blood, dirty talking, cunnilingus, use of telepathic powers, acts of violence mentioned (not between reader and HL)

From someone so concerned with shielding his mind, Homelander quickly comes to appreciate your telephatic powers and how useful they can be. Especially during a boring Seven meeting.

prompt sent by @infinetlyforgotten, thank you so much 🤍

When you were first introduced to the Seven, many, including your new colleagues, compared you to Mindstorm. Sure, there were some similarities—the ability to see a person’s thoughts or to project specific images. But that’s where it ended.

The ace up to your sleeve, which distinguishes you and earned your supe name as Quickstep, is both your telepathic precognition, giving you leverage in hand to hand combat, and your crown and glory—possession. Supe or non-supes, all could have their minds hijacked by you; an ability Vought decided not to publicize.

Your fellow partners in fighting crime knew, though; and from day one you could feel Homelander watching you with suspicion, a stare so filled with distaste your knees almost buckled.

Seeing you in a corridor, Homelander signaled for you to approach.

“Quickstep,” he sneered, invading your personal space until he towered over you and your neck ached from looking so high up. “If I catch you using your little powers on me, be sure I’ll crack your spine. It’ll be easier than stomping on an ant. Got it?” His sudden artificial smile did nothing to lessen the weight of his words.

Homelander was your hero, always, since childhood. Not only that, ever since you saw him for the first time, the shining blue eyes, the softness of his blonde hair, that commanding voice... You were a goner. And he most certainly knew. The disappointment almost, almost broke your heart.

Little by little, however, with the unspoken promise you wouldn’t pry on his mind, you’d grown close. Partners in fighting crime, yeah, of course, but you had his back, no matter what.

In one of your missions together, Homelander smeared in an innocent’s blood from head to toe, your first instinct was to help him—clean the mess. And you couldn’t lie, him in his violence and brutality did something to you.

“Hey, you,” you murmured. “Let me help you, okay? Let me take care of it. Let me protect you.”

Surprisingly, he acquiesced. It took no more than minutes to possess the mind of some poor bystanders, having them fight and commit atrocious acts; they wouldn’t know what came over them and Vought would be too happy not to disclose. In quick action, the narrative changed; from rabid supe, to terrorist crowd.

Later, you found yourself in his penthouse, in his bathtub, naked and cleaning the gore as he squeezed your waist. When you sealed your relationship with a bloodied kiss, you knew there was no turning back—and you loved it. Loved his quirks, his humor, his beautiful nose and soft hair, loved his flaws and all that came with it. Loved the tie that bound you forever.

“I love you. I love you so much,” you whispered in his ear as you lay in his bed, a few hours before your meeting with the rest of the Seven. “I ache for you all the time. It overflows, sometimes.” You giggled, remembering when your desire burned you so passionately, so intensely, your mind had one focal point: Homelander and what he could do to your body. Without realizing, all your wants and needs were suddenly projected on his mind.

In the first time, you were fearful he’d throw a fit, but he simply grinned devilish at you.

“Wow,” he laughed. “If I’d known more about your dirty little mind I would have put it to use a long time ago, babe.”

After that, it became a fixture, in bed, in daily moments where voicing your thoughts wasn’t an option, or in missions when silent communication was useful. And bit by bit, he delighted in it, veritable proof of your devotion and love.

As it were, in this stolen moment, cuddled in his bed, he answered. “And I love you, my darling, My own mirror.” He nuzzled your neck. “No need to scream in my mind, I’m gonna eat your pretty pussy until you beg me to stop.”

“I’d never,” you said breathily.

Slowly kissing from your collarbone, to your stomach and thighs, mischievously looking you in the eye as he bit and kissed and licked everywhere around your cunt. His strength was enough to keep you in the exact place he wanted. Such a delicious torture.

Finally he turned his attention to your clit, dragging his tongue over it in elaborate patterns—he was relentless, and you both moaned at the contact. You were loud, thrashing and screaming at the slightest touch, but only for him. He played your body perfectly.

Your hands found his hair, soft to the touch, and yanked, wanting him closer and he groaned—the vibrations going straight to your core. Soon he started tongue-fucking, just as you liked it, going deep and slow, alternating to trace your slit from your asshole to your clit; not one part of you ignored.

“Fuck, you taste so good. You’re fucking made for me, your pussy is mine, mine, understand that?”

“It’s yours! It’s all yours. Please, Homelander, please—”

“Please what?”

“Let me come, let me come in your mouth, I want to feel you.” It was all too much, the mess his tongue made, the wetness running down your pussy and dripping in the mattress.

Moaning, he plunged two fingers deep inside you, as he squeezed your ass, bringing you even closer. You cried from the pleasure he woke in you, and even in this madness you caressed his hair, closing your legs until he was in the position you liked most: with a perfect view of his face, his soft locks, his bright eyes.

He smirked, squeezing you tighter, until you no longer touched the bed, and he slapped your ass so hard your whole body trembled.

“Like that, princess? Like when I do whatever the fuck I want with your sweet body? Now show me. Show me what you want.”

You complied instantly.

You imagined him feasting on your pussy, licking it all until his spit and your slick became one and the same. His fingers marking your ass, your thighs; biting so deeply even your invulnerable skin would cleave to his superior strength. You wanted his tongue deep inside you, for yours on end, fucking your pussy so good your legs would spasm and you would scream for all the Tower to hear, pussy clenching just the way he liked. You wanted it all—Homelander slurping on your clit and swirling his tongue, making you squirt and swallowing it all, leaving his chin a beautiful fucking mess.

In the aftermath, body boneless and exhausted, you wanted his fingers, for him to drag it all over your juices and make you swallow and gag on it. Then, in a little tenderness, he'd give you a breathtaking kiss, further proof of your intimate lovemaking.

As you projected all of this on his mind, his smile grew bigger, more wicked. And you knew he'd deliver it, or even more.

“You really are such a slut.” You giggled; it was all in the game.

Later on, as all the Seven were debating their latest terrorist attack, and what plan they'd need to put in action, all you could think was Homelander. His hands on you, his tongue lapping at your clit and his disheveled hair—which, you noticed, he didn't fix for the meeting. It wasn't fair, he was too mean at taunting you.

You couldn't keep your eyes off of him and he knew. Flashes of your morning together ran through your mind. No matter how satisfied you'd been, you wanted more, again, all the time. You wanted his kisses and devastation, his head between your legs and his mouth both teasing and giving you the most world-shattering pleasure.

You wanted to caress his hair, your newfound obsession, while he fucked you, hiting that sweet spot and filling you up with his come.

In your daydreams, you tuned out from the conversation, and like being burned you found Homelander staring straight at you, an expression oh so familiar. Unintentionally he'd become the spectator of your fantasies.

Rising from his chair so quickly you barely caught it, Homelander said, “That's enough for today. I have other things to take care of. Quickstep, you stay.”

Whispers of complaint were quickly shut down, as Homelander glared at them until each and everyone left the room.

“Well, well, seems like someone is still wantin' for more.”

He laid his hands on your chair, then turned it so you were face to face.

“I couldn't help it,” you smirked. “I can't get enough.”

“But that's not fair, don't you think?" He clucked his tongue. "It's your turn to please me.” He pulled you from the chair, and manhandled you until you fell to your knees with a thud. “Now, princess, get to work.”

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys x you #the boys x reader #requests #my writing #smut #infinetlyforgotten

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dotster001 · 9 months

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Hi! May I request the reaction of the twst boys, if they already have an S/O but they meet their soulmate? What would they choose between, their S/O or their soulmate?

Summary: Ace/Rook/Sebek/Sam/Leona x. Gn! Reader

A/N: this got long, but I had souch fun thinking about this. So feel free to request other boys for me to look at!

3k followers masterlist

Ace knew just as well as anyone that in modern day society, it was common to not end up with your soulmate. Some people never met their soulmate, some people's soulmates were just not a good match, some people seemingly didn't even have a soulmate. It was fine. Nothing to get butt hurt about.

Ace's soulmate mark on the palm of his hand had never even sparkled, let alone lit up. And he'd found someone that he had fun with. He wasn't sure if it was really love, but that was fine since he couldn't be sure if he was even capable of love.

He probably wasn't. His only other relationship, he'd ghosted them once he got bored. So a fun relationship, with no love, was probably all he deserved.

Until the day the you'd poofed into the mirror chamber, and his soulmate mark had glowed for the first time in his life. He saw you looking around in confusion, and at the time, he had assumed you were looking for him. Later he would realize you were too scared to even notice your mark. He was so god damn selfish.

He quietly slipped a glove on that was supplied with his uniform, and decided to wait and scope you out.

….

You'd both just defeated a monster of some kind, and you, Deuce, and the cat monster were laughing together, but he was just thinking of you.

You. You were too good.

He couldn't do this with you. You'd be hurt at first, but it would be better than knowing your soulmate was a heartless asshole who would leave you when he got bored.

You never had to know. He'd take solace in what he had, and give you your best chance for happiness.

His string of fate had finally become a natural color. And during the SDC auditions, he'd found it belonged to you.

He'd told you the truth. That he'd been seeing many people, believing that you were dead, or he'd never been destined to meet you. He was practically pleading with you to forgive him for the crimes he'd committed against you, but you told him you'd done the same thing once you'd realized your string wasn't the correct color.

He fought back a wave of intense jealousy, by kissing you, and telling you he'd break up with the one he'd been dating immediately. Hell, he'd be doing it right this moment, if you hadn't told him it'd be cruel for him to do it over a call.

How could he even care about cruel when you were right in front of him? Ready to help him find his happily ever after!

Lilia had always told him about soulmates, and how they would change your life. When you saw them, your world would literally expand, the otherworldly "colors" flooding your vision, but all you'd be able to focus on is their eyes.

He'd started at NRC, and Riddle Rosehearts had brought up the fact that a marriage of convenience would help Malleus more than being with his soulmate would. Silver had stepped in, repeating what master Lilia had always repeated. But Rosehearts was one that his lord respected dearly. There was no harm in trying it.

And one date with the rich merchant's kid had turned into two, had turned into three, had turned into a full relationship. For Sebek, the connections were very helpful to his king. For his partner, connections to the fae court, which were normally hard to come by, were completely open to them.

While Lilia often gave the disappointed dad look, and Silver wanted no part in the relationship, Sebek saw no reason to end it.

At least until the two of you made eye contact, and he finally got to experience color.

You were ecstatic! But he was torn… could he give up this boon he had for his master, just for his own happiness.

He told you he needed time. You looked disappointed. Perhaps you had your own Lilia back home who had filled you with beautiful promises. But you told him you understood. Albeit with tears glimmering in the corners of your eyes.

He spent three days straight training. He didn't think to stop, even with the sweat streaming into his eyes, causing them to burn more than they already were.

It wasn't until he felt his Lord's calming presence entering his periphery, a steaming mug of hot cocoa, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream floating in it, in his hands.

"It would be foolish to work yourself to death."

Sebek halted his moves, sheathing his sword, and quietly grabbing the mug.

"It is not often you are rendered speechless," Malleus smirked,but Sebek could barely nod.

Malleus sighed. "Humans do not live very long. To have one for your soulmate is a blessing few get to share. You will have centuries to be bound to someone you do not love.Do not lose your chance to hold them while you have them."

Malleus vanished as quickly as he appeared. Sebek stared at his hot cocoa, before running to find you, while he still had the chance.

He was always so cold. No matter where he was, he never could find the warmth of his soulmate. He'd ask his friends every once in a while to see if there was a soul that was destined to truly belong to him. The answer was always no. So he lived in eternal winter.

Those trapped in the cold seek warmth. And he'd found solace in a simple witch. There was no love. The relationship was purely to bring warmth to one another.

Then one day, he felt a moment of relief, as his friends came running for him, all of them speaking over one another. The only word he could consistently catch was , "Soulmate". The worst part was that he was literally in the arms of his little witch.

It wasn't that he didn't want you. He desperately did. Especially when Everytime you walked into the room, the cold numbing his fingertips dissipate, and he'd feel like he was in a warm embrace.

But you never pushed him, because of the conversation he had with you the moment you walked into his shop for the first time.

"I can't."

"Huh?"

"Not yet. I have someone relying on me. I'm their only source of warmth. Can you wait for me?"

You truly were perfect for him, because you never brought it up. And if you were anything like him, you desperately wanted the warmth you would feel if you held him close to you. But you were so patient. Pretending everything was fine, while he searched tirelessly for a soulmate that might not exist, for a potion that would simulate the warmth.

One day though. He promises that one day, he'll have it figured out. And then both of your patience will have paid off.

no one could ever love him. Which is why he wasn't bothered that no one's name was scrawled on his arm. And why he wasn't bothered when his brother had nervously asked if he'd be opposed to a betrothal to someone from another country. It's not like anyone was waiting for him.

It was a comfortable relationship. They definitely didn't love each other. But at least there was someone who had to at least pretend they cared when you complained about something. Comfortable. That's all he could ask for.

Until he'd felt pain on his arm, and found a name scrawled onto it for the first time. In a sea of new freshmen, he could pretend he didn't notice. He could pretend he didn't see.

And he hadn't run into the person the name belonged to, until you stepped on his tail in the greenhouse.

And after that, you were trying. You were trying so damn hard. It was endearing, and he almost let you in.

But deep down, he knew you'd one day seem him for who he was.

So one day, on edge from you asking him questions about himself, he snapped and told you to stop wasting your time, and get out of his life. Stop lying. No one could ever love him.

You glared at him. You called him a coward. And he growled back at you.

"I don't need you!"

For a moment, you seemed startled. Then you glared at him, and held your head high as you told him you wished him the best but doubted he'd find it.

And as he watched you storm off, a part of him knew you were right.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #3k followers #ace trapolla #ace trapolla x reader #ace x reader #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #rook x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek x reader #twst sam #twisted wonderland sam #twst sam x reader #sam x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader

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sanguineterrain · 8 months

Note

Hii so for the requests if this is too dark please just ignore 💜 how about jason x reader with "[ BACKUP ] sender calls receiver panicking after committing a crime" where maybe reader gets assaulted and in self-defense kills the criminal and is panicking and calling jason because she knows he can help her and is the only one who won't judge her. Thank you for considering 💖

hey anon! i really liked this prompt, not to worry. it reminded me of that scene in the punisher when amy shoots the guy, but frank "kills" him, so i ended up incorporating that here 😅 thanks for requesting!

i also combined this with another request i got for the prompt "hide. hide now." with jason bc i felt they went well together :)

jason todd x gn!reader | tw: gun violence. reader shoots a man whose intention is to harm them. panic attack, blood. you are in charge of the media you consume! | 843 words

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

You don't know how you get back to your apartment. All you can hear is your pounding heartbeat and the footsteps of one of Two Face's men.

You shouldn't have been out this late. You shouldn't have been out alone. So many shouldn'ts run through your mind.

"Run all you want! I know where you live now, snitch! You ain't making it out tonight!"

You take the stairs two at a time, tripping over your feet. Sweat pours down your face. Your chest is tight with fear.

"Yoo-hoo," the goon sing-songs. "Where are ya, birdie?"

You unlock your phone and duck into the laundry room. Quickly, you pull out your phone and tap on your first contact.

"Todd."

"Jason," you whisper. The phone shakes in your grip.

"What's wrong?" he asks, instantly on alert.

"There's a—I was—I'm at home. I-I didn't know where else to go. Two Face's guy saw me, he chased me—"

"I'm on my way. Are you inside?"

"In... in the laundry room... Jay, I'm so scared."

"I know, I know, it's okay. I'll be there in two minutes. Go to your apartment and lock it. There's a gun taped behind the pantry cabinet. Don't hang up."

"I don't remember buying a—"

"I put it there. Go."

You don't even have the thought to be mad; Jason has always been protective of you, and right now, it might be the only thing that'll keep you alive.

"You there?" he asks as you stumble on your feet to your apartment.

"Al-almost—"

"I know you're up here, snitch!" the goon shouts from two floors below.

You gasp and nearly break your key in the lock. But you manage to get it open and lock it behind you, just how Jason ingrained in you to do. You find the gun exactly where he said it is.

"Okay. I have it. Jason, I've never—"

"I know. Listen to me—shit—okay, you see the safety? You remember what I taught you about taking the safety off?"

"Yeah, y-yeah." You take the safety off. The gun is heavy, way heavier than you remember it being when Jason had shown you how to fire it in a field outside of town.

"Alright. Now take the gun and hide. Hide now."

"Where? Jason, he's coming—" You're crying now, face slick with sweat and tears.

"Listen to me. I'm three blocks away. I will be there, okay? I won't let him do shit to you. Go to the bathroom and lock it. Be careful with the gun. Finger off the trigger."

You walk on jellied legs, half-stumbling to the bathroom. You do what he says and press yourself against the tub, gun under your palm. Your phone is on your other side.

"You still there?" he asks. "Talk to me, sweetheart."

"I'm here. I think he's—"

You flinch hard as your apartment door splinters. You cover your mouth to hide your cries. The light is off, but you doubt this is the first time this guy's hunted someone in their apartment.

You hear the squeal of tires through the phone. Jason's close; he'll be here soon, he'll—

The bathroom door tears from its hinges. The doorknob makes a hole in the wall.

You don't think.

The shot is louder than you expect, and your ears ring from the sound. Blood splatters on your bathroom tiles. The goon hits the floor with a shout.

"Oh my God, oh my God," you babble, still squished against the tub.

"You bitch!" the goon shouts, blood bubbling from his mouth.

Jason runs in then. He quickly kicks the goon's gun away and steps on his chest when the goon tries to get up. Jason cocks his gun in warning.

"Stay down, shithead," he snarls.

"I killed him," you say, tears flooding your eyes. "I didn't mean to—I didn't—"

Jason kneels in front of you and gently takes the gun from you. You look at him, stomach rolling.

"I killed him," you say again, cringing as the goon yells in pain.

Jason shakes his head. "No. Hey, you didn't kill him. You defended yourself. You just shot him, okay? See, look—"

He fires a single bullet without looking. The goon is instantly silent. You wince.

"Okay? You didn't kill him. I killed him. Me. Not you."

You whimper, face falling into Jason's chest. He holds you tightly.

"I was so scared, but I didn't want to—I thought he was gonna—"

"Shh, shh. You didn't do anything wrong. Okay? I got you. You did good. You defended yourself. It was you or him and you made the right choice."

"Don't leave," you cry, clinging to Jason's tactical vest.

He squeezes you tighter, shielding you from the body.

"I'm not going anywhere. I got you, sweetheart. Don't worry. Nothing's gonna happen to you."

You sit like that for a long time, Jason whispering gentle reassurances in your ear as you cry into his chest.

"I promise you'll never be in this situation again," he whispers when your cries have become sniffles. "I swear."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #batman fanfiction #batman imagine #dc fanfiction #inbox #blurb

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badass-queer-couples-battle · 6 months

Text

Gay wrongs tournament, round 2.5 of the major bracket

Propaganda:

For Eddie Brock and Venom:

I'm pretty sure its Canon in the comics and like, Canon adjacent in the 2nd movie??? Idk I just watched the first one sooo, anyways, this isn't propaganda i just couldn't remember if you said they needed to be Canon so I put what I rembered about that here, idk I'm proboboly just gonna send the propaganda in the ask box at a later date

They eat people:) venom is an alien symbiote and Eddie is the host and they have melded together into one being. They care for and protect each other and are so intimately intwined they are only ever separated by force. Also they’re both absolute disasters and they periodically bite and eat the heads off their enemies.

They eat people <3

For Will and Hannibal:

Ive previously only heard the term "murder husbands" refer to hannigram so it feels flitting. The whole series culminated with a murder they did together bathing in blood.

The show and ship that coined murder husbands. It’s in the text in s3 from a journalist side character. They do Many murders either together or as a message to each other. Usually this involves turning the dead body into an art piece. The show ends with them killing a guy together in a slo mo scene backed by porno music.

They're both batshit and manipulative.

ALRIGHT so they're not canonically together but it is HEAVILY implied and they have some sort of fucked up psychosexual obsession with each other. in the later parts of the show they start committing murder and cannibalism together and they're soooo unhinged but it's awesome

kill people for each other. maim each other. kill people together. most batshit insane metaphors. send each other to jail. ruin everyone’s lives. someone can probably say this better than me but these gay people are insane

Literally THE murder husbands. They kill for each other. They've tried to kill each other. They're canon in all but name, like the homoeroticism between these two is the driving force of the show.

one time hannibal folded a guy into an origami human heart

They are in love and they kill and eat people. They are called Murder Husbands in canon.

The original murder husbands (literally, that's not just their ship name, they get called that in canon)

The show begins with Will working for the FBI and trying to catch Hannibal, but because Hannibal is so intrigued by the way Will is able to see the world and the motives behind the killings so easily, it becomes a game of Hannibal isolating Will even more from the people around and seducing him to try and kill. By the time Will starts embracing the side of him that Hannibal sees, he starts oulling back and trying to distance himself so that when the time comes for Will to fully embrace himself and Hannibal, no one really suspects what they have planned.

hannibal literally does murder as courtship and it works bc will is also a fucked up little guy

I'm actually quite offended they aren't included by default (joke). They are THE murder husbands!!!!!! (mod note: they should have been, but I wanted to see how many submissions they'd get. They got 19, making them a little more than 6% of total submission count).

do i have to say it. they literally get called murder husbands IN THE SHOW

There are 3201 works for Hannibal on ao3 tagged Murder Husbands. They are the ogs, they are the pioneers we owe it all to them.

THEE murder couple. You know it. I know it. They commit crimes at each other as courting and then commit crimes together and then fall off a cliff to wash up somewhere and live on to serve cunt. Get referred to as 'murder husbands' in canon. What more do you need

Hannigram were literally called Murder Husbands in canon, they are the og, they are THE blueprint. They were gay as hell and comitted so much murder so many crimes. THEY RAN OFF TO EUROPE TOGETHER.

#gay wrongs tournament round 2 #venom #hannibal nbc #hannibal #symbrock #hanningram #eddie brock #venom symbiote #hannibal lecter #will graham

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shankschewtoy · 1 month

Note

Hiiii. So this is my first time requesting or anything so I’m kinda really nervous??? Anyways, I love your crack fics, I literally giggle non stop and they bring light into my soul.

So, that being said, I have a request. Could you do something with Crocodile and Ace (and whichever other characters) reacting to their s/o having a spider or some type of scary bug on their back? Idk if your can go anywhere with this but hey, it’s worth a shot.

Okay that’s it bye bye have a good day :)))

a/n - omg I’m so glad I can bring light into your life 😭🫶 literally my goal when I’m writing this stuff 💜 oml bro crocodile is afraid of bugs I just know he is 💀 that’s why he had robin, so she could handle them for him

warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, crack, crocodile would leave you with the the bug just to run as far away as possible 💀🫶

- pls if he sees a single bug in his house he’d move out of his mansion and go to another sea of ocean 💀

- don’t get me wrong he takes you with him of course and makes sure you’re protected from those heinous insects. Get ready for loads of bug spray and pest killing chemicals, because your house is going to smell like that for at least a couple weeks 😃🫶

- so one day, you’re relaxing on the sofa, listening to some ambient music, the lights a bit dimmed, with the shutters open just enough for some light to shine through without being too harsh. It was a weekend, so it was due time for some relaxation!

- crocodile had just gotten finished with his work, and finally he’d get to spend some quality time with you. As he walked over, getting ready to join you on the couch, he froze.

- his eyes were locked onto your back, his breathing completely stopped, his body stiff as a board

- a tiny black speck on your back was… moving. Could that be a- SPIDER? You turned around because you heard footsteps, and you looked confused to see crocodile just- frozen, with wide, disgusted, fearful eyes as if you just committed some heinous crime against humanity

- “….Crocodile? You ok?”

- …

- “Hello???? Earth to crocodile?”

- “Y/n. You know I love you right?“

- “…What?”

- “Then you know why I must do this.”

- “What do you me- hey where’re you going?!”

- to go bag (he has one prepared for this exact situation bruh 💀) materializes out of thin air, then cue crocodile skedaddling out the door without explaining or warning you like a scared selfish asshole

- “CROCODILE IT’S NOT EVEN THE SIZE OF MY FINGERNAIL.”

- “IT’S AN INSECT Y/N.”

- “SO YOU’D LEAVE ME WITH THE FUCKING BUG SO YOU COULD GET AWAY FIRST-? 😭”

- “..well of course I would’ve sent someone back for you-“

- “SENT SOMEONE?!”

- see now ace is afraid of bugs too. But he’s not a selfish asshole like crocodile 💀 bro would at least try and protect you while screaming and sobbing

- you two were relaxing, snuggling together and watching the sun set on the deck of the Moby dick. It always never failed to amaze you with how many colors spread across the sky.

- ace absolutely adored these moments with you. It made him feel so- alive but also dead at the same time. Because how could one be this happy and in love with you?

- he looked down at you, and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head, and that’s when he saw… it

- cue the scream of a demon plus a kid who just saw a clown

- “WTF ACE WHAT?!”

- “BABE- DO NOT MOVE. THERE’S A BIGASS BUG ON YOUR HEAD.”

- “EXCUSE ME?!”

- ace grabbed his shoe in a panic, and aimed directly at your head. But since he was so afraid, he was closing his eyes.. as he was swinging to kill the bug.. and he ended up slapping the absolute shit out of you instead of the bug

- “Phew, think I got it- Y/N?! WHAT HAPPENED ARE YOU OK?!”

- “WDYM AM I OK YOU SLAPPED THE SHIT OUT OF ME-“

- “Sorry.. OH SHIT I MISSED-“

- “NONONONO ACE WAIT-“

- you got hit five times before he actually got it. 💀🫶 I hope your brain isn’t damaged 😭

- luffy was one of those kids who collected beetles and watched them fight each other like it was the most intense battle he’s ever seen 💀

- so of course he’s not afraid of them. Bro likes them so much that he doesn’t know if the one piece is better or if beetles are better 😭

- luffy was rambling to you about the various different types of beetles, and which ones were the strongest in fights. He was giving you the WHOLE lowdown, their stats, weaknesses, special skills, traits, etc. 💀 you were surprised luffy had this level of knowledge on- anything really

- “Yeah so the atlas beetle can DEFINITELY take down the rhino beetle because of its really tough shell and- OH MY GOD-“

- “Huh-?! What’s wrong?!”

- “OMG OMG Y/N YOU HAVE AN ATLAS BEETLE ON YOUR HEAD!”

- “Luffy you better be joking. Is it even April yet?”

- “Nono it’s right here see?”

- he pulled it off your head and put it in front of your face. The way you froze, and the way your heart stopped, dropped down to your feet, and then climbed back up 😭

- you couldn’t even scream, you just got up and hauled ass away from whatever that abomination of a creature was

- “Y/n where are you going?! I have to show you how it fights!”

- “I’M PERFECTLY FINE NOT SEEING THAT LUFFY-“

- “But y/n they really like you! You’ve got a rhino beetle on your back too!”

- “WHAT?!”

- you legit stopped, dropped, and rolled 💀💀💀 poor robin was watching the whole thing transpire from really far away so she couldn’t hear the context of what the hell was happening 😭

a/n - bro I missed writing these. I’m a bit rusty tho 😂

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luvhughes43 · 10 months

Text

cruisin' for a brusin' | luke hughes x zegras!reader

luvhughes43 masterlist🌷

ynzegras

liked by lhughes_06, trevorzegras, yourbff, and others

ynzegras hanging with my brother cus his friends are so hot!

view all comments

lhughes_06 all?🤨

ynzegras shhhhh...

trevorzegras MAN WHAT THR HELL???

ynzegras 😇😇

trevorzegras this better just be a teen beach movie reference.

yourbff im not going to lie this is terrifying.

yourbff WHY IS THERE SO MANY OF THEM

fan01 OMG??? IM GOING TO COMMIT A CRIME OHMYGOD WHAT THEEEEEE

lhughes_06

liked by ynzegras, jackhughes, dylanduke25, and others

lhughes_06 dont stop the music🌞🎵

tagged: ynzegras

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dylanduke25 soo aesthetic😻✨

jackhughes AHAHHAHJH IM SCREAMING^&@^#)!@&^#

jackhughes turn the music UP!😭��🙏

ynzegras my beach boy❤️

trevorzegras i just gagged.

fan02 good. for. her😭😭😭

trevorzegraspriv

liked by jackhughes, colecaufield, jamie.drysdale, and others

trevorzegraspriv everyone please vote in the poll the link is in my bio please please please im BEGGING!!!

view all comments

ynzegras flop

trevorzegraspriv actually the poll has 5 whole votes soo..

ynzegras PAYOLA PAYOLA PAYOLA TREVOR FLOP TAYLOR OUTSOLD

lhughes_06 there is no way you made a whole poll😭😭

trevorzegraspriv ur getting blocked from the priv.

jackhughes i'm voting for them to stay together

trevorzegraspriv the beast is about to come out.

jamie.drysdale if you dont leave those poor kids alone😭

ynzegras

liked by lhughes_06, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, and others

ynzegras we do anything we want❤️ (this is specifically for trevor)

tagged: lhughes_06

view all comments

lhughes_06 my soulmate

ynzegras i love you🥹❤️

trevorzegras SOULMATE? LOVE?? when will the suffering END!😓😓

trevorzegras 😓💔💔

ynzegras suck it up buttercup👍

jackhughes zeghughes nation we did it😢🤞

ynzegras zeghughes nation... im honestly speechless

fan03 LUKES BACK? HIS MUSCLES?? IM SCREAMINGGG

fan04 trevorrr what are you doing on the floor😭😭😭

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes insta edit #jack hughes x reader #trevor zegras x reader #zegras!sister x luke hughes #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fic

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kokoa-la · 9 months

Text

Paper Clips Make Good Lock Picks- part two

Part 1

"Still going to ignore me?"

...

"Okay okay you got me. Let's get out of here first. We have an hour and a half before another teacher comes in and watches us for the last 15 minutes."

"What's your name?"

Oh, Danny forgot to introduce himself huh?

"Danny."

"No last name?"

"You haven't made it far on the friends list"

"Wow friends already? We just met"

"You're breaking out of detention with me. You picked a lock for me, that's called being friends."

"Do you make all your friends by committing crimes together?"

"Only the best ones"

Danny smiled before walking out and checking the hallway side to side. All clear.

He waved Tim over and out of the classroom.

"You know this whole hallway is under watch right? There's cameras here."

"They don't work."

"What?"

Danny laughed a little before signaling Tim to follow after him against the wall.

"You didn't know? After school hours certain cameras shut down. In fact, a lot of them are broken and they never paid to get them repaired. That's why they accept bribes. They lie about having proof of crimes, works every time."

"What are you talking about?"

Danny groaned. Of course Tim didn't know about this, he was one of the rich kids they'd exploit. Danny as well as the other kids who were here off of scholarships or special deals knew about the tactic and had ways to avoid it, but rich kids like Tim didn't need to avoid it. The halfa cursed at the unfairness of life.

"Of course you don't know. The teachers here scam the rich kids. They accuse them of crimes they didn't commit and because their parents never care for proof, only reputation, they bribe them right away without even asking for the evidence. It's happened so many times and it's why when actual problems happen it's swept up under the rug."

"Are you serious?"

"Uh yeah dude. Usually kids like me try their best to avoid it. Meaning don't fight back, don't stay after school, don't go to the bathroom for anything other than an emergency, and don't talk back to any teachers at all. Those are the basics when you're not as rich as everyone else."

"So that's why you're so adamant on being framed, but couldn't you just ask them for proof it was you?"

"Not that easy. I don't have a guardian, I'm a 'charity case' as they say it."

He practically spit out that last part. Utter disgust in his tone.

"No parents, no money, no dice. If I don't find proof myself and publicize it or threaten em with it, I'm stuck for a year. I have things to do you know"

"Like blowing up chemistry labs?"

Tim teased. Danny gave him a look over his shoulder and rolled his eyes.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. You're so funny Tim! I wonder if Andys laughing in the hospital."

"He deserved it."

"And I'm innocent."

The two just stared at each other before Danny laughed and turned back around, continuing his walk. Tim chalked up the whole conversation as something to investigate later at home. His new "friend" was turning out to be a lot more interesting than he let on.

"So this is you searching for clues? Have you gotten anything since you started"

"Well as I was saying earlier all the cameras in the hallway leading to the lab don't work at certain times, and the ones that were IN the lab are completely unsalvageable. And at the time of the explosion the usual delinquent students - Anderson included - were out of class."

"So they're the prime suspect, no chance of it being anyone else?"

"Not many motives. If someone was using it for an outside project they didn't have permission, and other than that it's just the love of destroying and messing around."

Danny had led them through the school, taking twists and turns Tim couldn't recognize, eventually they had stopped at a roadblock. The hallway ended where a giant white tarp lay hanging from the ceiling. Caution tape was draped from each side to the other.

"Where are we?"

"The scene of the crime."

Danny smiled before walking towards the plastic covering and picking it up from the ground and waving Tim over. Tim sighed before looking around and following after him, shaking his head on the way over.

"Don't act all disappointed in me, you're literally following me"

"I may have just met you today but I'm convinced that it I left you alone you'd somehow either die or blow something up"

Oh how Tim didn't know the truth to that statement. Danny gasped and placed his hand over his chest all dramatically, taking false offense.

"I'll have you know death cannot take me! It has tried and failed. Plus, we've been over this, I'm innocent!"

Tim didn't even want to unpack the first part of that. Logically it could be an exaggeration, but something about it felt a little too real to his senses.

"Whatever, you felon."

"Delinquent."

"Fair, now let's get going"

The roles had reversed as Tim took the lead instead. Danny let him despite having been here multiple times over the last few weeks. Maybe Tim would see something he couldn't.

“So what are you hoping to find?”

“Proof of my innocence, or proof of their crimes.”

“Isn’t finding their crimes easier? Considering a lot of people already know about it.”

“Well yeah, but that’d turn back on me.”

“How so?”

God, Danny wanted to punch him.

“Because they’d flip it on me and say how did I get the information? They’d accuse me of stealing and breaking and entering. They’d say that a delinquent child like me who hasn’t got good influences in my life would resort to just about anything to get out of punishment-”

“That’s a bit specific, don't cha think?”

“Well I’ve had similar things happen to me before”

Creepy boy with creepy powers rang in his head, he ignored it.

“Anyways, how am I even going to get that stuff? The principal's office has all of that information and the cameras there are fully functioning and top quality. Plus, how am I supposed to get into their computer? I don’t know the password and I can’t hack shit for the life of me. Programming I can do, but that? Whole new haunt.”

“Haunt- you know what? I’m not going to question that.”

“Good. We’re running out of time anyways. Choosing all the hallways that don’t have cameras or ones that work took a while. We need to wrap this up in 20 and then go back the way we came.”

Tim nodded and walked a bit faster towards what used to be the chem lab. There was more plastic screening in the way, but it was easily bypassed by the two.

“There’s no one here.”

“They only do construction on this place during school hours two times a week.”

“Why? That’ll take forever.”

“Exactly.”

Tim’s questions were getting to Danny at this point. While the halfa acted all knowing in the beginning, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s actually clueless beyond what he discovered on his own. He doesn’t know why they’re prolonging the construction, it’s probably another scheme of theirs- or if they’re lucky, an extensive cover up. Danny, in all honesty, just wants to be able to go home to his little trash heap of a living space in Crime Alley and sleep.

Tim moved forward, being way too careful. Danny knew he was oddly silent, but he could still hear the other, so he didn't question it. Superhuman hearing for the win!

“Why is the construction flowing this way? The back of the room is close to being done, but the front is still in complete disarray. They shouldn’t be doing parts of the room, but the whole room in steps.”

Yeah, Danny couldn’t answer that one. At this point, he was just assuming that Tim had to verbalize his questions when answering them himself. He didn’t reply, and with the way the other didn’t ask again or even look at him, Danny was right. He was content to just let his detention mate do his thing, lord knows Tim’s smarter than Danny anyways.

Tim stepped forward cautiously. The ground was still slightly unsteady considering only like 15% of the room had the floors replaced. Now that Danny thought about it, that was weird. He may be clueless about anything other than ghosts and space, but even he knew that foundations were placed first. This is a dangerous and even unsafe way to do construction. Why repair one part of the room first and then bleed out? Was something hidden in that area? Plus, there was still debris from the explosion-

“What do you think they’re hiding?”

“We’re about to find out.”

Wow, Tim was really invested now. Danny would have just gone back by now and visited tomorrow, but Tim is full on interested.

All that was left to do was follow the rich kid further in the room.

“Careful some of the paint is wet.”

Danny didn’t even want to ask how the other knew that from this distance. Danny could tell, but again, super human senses, Tim? Fully human. It didn’t really matter that much though, so he just followed him further and stepped around certain tiles.

Tim started inspecting just about everything. Nothing was safe. Every piece of wood, every corner, every point in which two colors met- the guy even pulled out a leveler. Where did he get that? You know what? Didn’t matter. Danny was giving his best in minding his business. If it got him set free? He’d ask zero questions- consider his curiosity swallowed.

“Tim, we have to go. We’re almost out of time.”

“Is it just me or is this cement not level, and doesn’t the drywall seem incorrect to you?”

Tim finally turned back to Danny, breaking out of his investigator mode. The halfa sighed before stepping over to where his new friend was, taking a closer look at what Tim was pointing out. He was right. The cement was uneven against the wall. It was strange considering Chemistry labs required tile flooring. The tiles wouldn’t go well if it wasn’t steady. Plus, the walls were supposed to be in levels: cement, then insulation, then final layer (could be anything really). The drywall set up wasn’t screwed in correctly, and Danny was pretty sure he could see the insulation in some parts. Considering special tiles or substances had to be used over the drywall to make the chemistry lab safe and usable, it wasn’t a good base.

Okay, Danny will admit, maybe he did do a little bit of research into chemistry labs. It was a rabbit hole he couldn’t escape when listening to Mr.Lanch drag on and on about the 5 page essay due in a month. He was bored, sue him. He was used to being attacked by ghosts everyday, this place was tame. Sure, it was exhausting, but it was still interesting.

“This isn’t right. The concrete has cracks in it.”

“So?”

“The school is supposed to use epoxy for the flooring, but for that to work the cement underneath it has to be perfect. This is far from that.”

“But they’re doing tiles, not resin.”

Tim gave Danny a look, and it honestly made him feel poor. Epoxy flooring was expensive- like really expensive- Danny has never seen it before that’s for sure.

“Danny, the school has enough funding to make 20 of these labs with the highest grade. Tuition alone is insane amounts, even for the rich. The facilities the place offers should be of the highest quality. Even if the floors have to get replaced every few years, it states on the website that it’s supposed to be epoxy.”

Tim took what seemed to be a thousand photos of the area, getting every little detail.

“Hmm, sounds like they’re cutting corners to cut costs. Leave it to the corrupt.”

“Alright, I got what we needed, let's head back.”

“Thank the Ancients. We’re gonna need to hurry, you know. We took too much time.”

Danny was quick to retrace the steps he took entering, ensuring no more tracks were left. Tim followed suit, and soon enough they were back into the maze of Hallways. This time with Tim leading the way. How the other knew it already when he’d only been through it once was beyond Danny, but again, he wasn’t gonna question it.

Questioning others gave them a way to ask you questions in return, and Danny wasn’t too keen on answering anything personal.

“Made it!”

Danny laughed as he slumped in the first seat, dead tired from the way they ran after seeing the clock. They were 10 minutes away when the clock showed they had 5 minutes until a check in. To say they ran would be an understatement. The way the two of them jumped down those stairs would surely raise many questions if Danny was keen to ask, but hey, maybe Tim was one of those ‘do every hobby known to mankind’ rich kids.

Well his new friend was fit, at the least. Tim hadn’t even broken a sweat, only slightly breathing a little heavier. Danny wished. As a ghost he didn’t have such things as stamina, there was no out of breath when you don’t breathe. As a human, however, he was stuck with meager capabilities he gathered up from running away from bullies and fighting off ghosts with watchful eyes. Seriously, he needed to do whatever Tim was doing (just cheaper).

Funnily enough, the second Tim sat down a seat away from him, Mr.Lanch entered the room.

“I see you two have moved. I hope you didn’t cause any disturbances.”

He said while looking directly at Danny. Danny was sure to keep a tight smile on his face, hiding his clenched fist under the desk next to his thigh.

“No way, sir. I just needed some help on that essay we have. You know I’m a little-”

“Behind, yes, I’m aware. Don’t distract Mr.Drake, he has well enough to do on his own. Am I clear?”

“Yes, yes. Sorry, won’t happen again.”

“Now apologize to Mr.Wayne for bothering him.”

“He wasn’t a bother.”

Tim interrupted, and Danny swore Tim looked annoyed. How come?

“Excuse me?”

“Danny wasn’t bothering me, Mr.Lanch, I was happy to help.”

There was an attitude in his tone, a bit of sharpness that Danny could pick up. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why.

“Yes, well, an esteemed individual such as yourself mustn't get too involved with the likes of him.”

Was this guy for real? Not even bothering to hide the blatant discrimination. Danny refrained from rolling his eyes, his fist clenching ever so tighter, making indents in his skin.

“What may that mean, Mr.Lanch.”

“Mr.Drake, I’m sure you are well aware that people like… him are not the best influence on those such as yourself.”

Danny could feel the rage bubbling under Tim’s skin- being a sort of empath had its perks.

“People like him? I am unaware as to what exactly you mean by that.”

Yeah, this was going to continue escalating. Danny cleared his throat, making both of them look over at him.

“I’m sorry Tim for bothering you earlier. It won’t happen again, don’t worry.”

“That’s better like it, now, I will return when time is up. Good day.”

And with that, Mr.Lanch left the room, making Danny sigh in relief. He sunk into his seat and rubbed his fingers over the crescents in his palm.

“Why did you do that?”

“What?”

Tim gave him an annoyed look.

“Apologize.”

“It’s not that important, Tim. It’s easier on me if I just do what he asks. As long as I don’t get punished too badly it’s fine.”

“Didn’t we just return from trying to prove your innocence?”

“That was different from this. A year of detention and being banned from any labs for the rest of highschool is way too drastic to just take it. I have a thing called a job, Tim, I can’t be here when I could be working. Not all of us have people making food for them anytime they want.”

This was ridiculous. Seriously, Danny may care about justice and all that jazz, but he made a promise to- well- Jazz that he’d finish highschool and do it right. He couldn’t start problems when he already barely got in from this alone. Tim would be fine anywhere he went, Danny wouldn’t, and that’s just the truth. He couldn’t punch his way out of this one, and he accepted that the first month in. It really was Casper high part two, but instead of the treatment being because he was the weird kid, it was because he was the poor orphan. Not much better, now, was it.

Tim finally shut his mouth. Danny allowed himself to roll his eyes before putting his head down on the desk. 10 minutes until freedom.

Day one was finally over.

_______________________

Imma be real honest I actually hated part 2 which is why I never posted it, but i've been convinced bcs someone asked for the link to it so i avoided tumblr for a week because i thought itd be mean to show activity and ignore them- so i went back edited it and now theres a part 3 and im worried this will become a short story

anyways enjoy!

Koa out <3

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love-toxin · 1 month

Note

DO U HAVE SUNDAY THOUGHTS…

/WHIPS MY HEAD AROUND EXORCIST-STYLE

(cws: toxic relationship, gaslighting, manipulation, yandere goodness)

It has to be said: big male manipulator daddy energy. If he wants you, he will ruin everything you love. He's smothering with endearment when you act according to his desires, and viciously brutal in his discipline when you go against his virtues. If you want out of his reach you'll just have to kill him because he's not interested in letting his pet personal attachment go.

Not that he isn't gentle at times, even sweet. He can be gentle and is actually very good at being so. He does truly love to see you smile and to feel your happiness flooding out of you; he loves the excitement in your eager gait when he shows you the Golden Hour for the first time, and all those colours and wondrous sights you've never seen before come to life in the dream. The reflection of all those brilliant, glimmering lights in your eyes is a sight he'll never forget.

But you are not his equal, for the simple reason that you require more guidance to be on your own. Sunday is convinced that you're a little lost lamb, delicate and unworldly, and that you need a proper mentor before you can even think of making your own decisions in life. Little do you know that he has no intention of ever seeing you in that light of equality, but to be fair, neither does he. He's just certain that you're a passion project requiring his help, and that is something he is all too happy to lend despite his many other duties to the Family.

That means, however, that you're essentially stuck with him. With Robin's death so fresh in his mind, he can't let something he loves out of his sight ever again. You must stay with him and be by his side every second of the day--aren't you flattered? He trusts you most implicitly, to the point that you've listened to all but only the most exclusive inner workings of the Family, which are the only times that Sunday will briefly excuse himself to have a meeting with his companions alone. Sometimes it ends with only himself coming back out, but if you haven't learned already you will learn to keep your lips sealed about those occurrences. "It's nothing for you to worry about." Sunday's famous words ring in your head, usually followed by a welcome distraction of tea or a walk or even some ice cream. Anything for his little darling.

Part of what makes Sunday so enticing--and in fact is probably a large part of why you'd get sucked into his facade--is that he offers you something you likely don't have; a family. And not just that, but unconditional love, support, wealth, affection, comfort, anything and everything you could ever want, even if it's not directly from Sunday himself. Although you're by his side nearly every moment of the day and he's all too eager to offer you attention whenever possible, being part of the Family and part of Sunday's inner circle means that you're part of something much bigger than yourself. The Family members treat you with dignity. The Hounds protect you. The people of Penacony adore you. And no matter where you are, no matter what you do, Sunday will never give up on his unending affection for you. It doesn't matter what it is. It doesn't matter what crimes you've committed or what guilt you feel for your past, whether you're a happy person or you're miserable, whether you can't hold up your relationships or you're an egregious people-pleaser; Sunday will never, ever give up on you, and that's rare to find in anyone, much less someone of his status and one with so much romantic affection for you. He'll tell you himself that he physically cannot abandon you, it's just...not within him to even think of it. You're meant to be together. That's the way it should be, forever and always.

#sunday hsr #sunday x reader #sunday hsr x reader #hsr #ellie writes #anons

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amelee23 · 11 months

Text

I didn't accidentally love you | Hwang Hyunjin

Genre: Hopelessly romantic fluff, angst, poetry, a little comedy

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x gender neutral reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: reader is an insecure poet, heartbreak, bad self esteem, poetry clubs, Hyunjin is dripping charisma, shameless flirting, reader thinks hyun is a jerk for like a second, reader.exe stops working multiple times, reader gets shy, i just HAD to be funny at the end OKAY

Synopsys: Your friends forced you to become part of a poetry club, and when you receive a task to write a poem about sadness, you realize you accidentally write it about Hyunjin, the guy you had a crush on and tried to forget about. And he finds out.

A/N: I promised @astraystayyh to write this, here you go sugar <3

Artists have many moments of weakness.

Those moments when you start to question your craft, whether you're even worthy of being called an 'artist' or you're just a fleeting talent that is going to wash away with time, just like the hobby or interest of a preschooler. You inquire if you're worthy staining pages with ink, using the words of the dictionary just to feel the high of belonging - the high of doing show and tell with your emotions like it's a new toy your parents gifted you; or you should just remain a consumer, and observe the beauty that lies in others, the beauty others can create. Could your craft ever rise to all these expectations?

But what else is there to life, if not making art?

Perhaps you've always been clinically insane, but you've only truly felt alive when you felt the beauty of the world - dark and bright alike - conveyed through you in the form of poetry and words, sent by the angels above for a mere human to toy with. So you pick up the pencil again.

The paper before you is blank, and you're frankly uncomfortable in the position you are in, notebook on your thighs, back curved over the page as if you're shielding unwritten words from the sun itself to not read them. But you've always felt more at ease writing outside, under the natural light of the sky, with the clouds passing by carelessly, like they don't have doubts about their worth like a human would. But the stares of the students passing by are not exactly comfortable. You take a breath and urge yourself to focus; they don't care about what you're doing, they're just heading to their classes, living their lives (hopefully) with that same hunger you have for art, for their chosen subjects.

You face your paper again and remember the prompt you were given - writing a poem involving the feeling of sadness - that you're supposed to hand over to the club in a couple of days. Insecurities and procrastination led you to keep putting it off, but the dread of a deadline has always been a great motivation for humanity. Your friends urged you towards this, to join the poetry club of your university - it's a small, non-profit club put together by a bunch of random art and literature students. It's so non-profit in fact, that it barely has any funding at all. They had to fight tooth and nail to be allowed to host the club meetings every week in the sculpting room - and that, late in the day, when the cleaning staff unlocks the doors for their cleaning sweep. You sit on awkward, stained chairs, and make sure to raise your feet up one by one to not stand in the way of the mop and brooms. But the club members would withstand anything, and would pretty much commit homicide to keep the club running. One more reason why, when faced with the passion and fighting spirit your club mates have, you wonder if you even have a space with them. You had to be shoved - one could say even blackmailed - by your friends to take the step forward and join, so you could be able to share your craft with others. You were perfectly happy letting your poems stack up in endless notebooks on top of your dusty bookcase. You didn't feel the need to share them, per se - but everyone else insisted it would have been a crime to keep them to yourself selfishly like that.

Sadness, sadness. You need to embody sadness for this prompt. You look around for inspiration, but there is no sad sight to see. The sky is clear, in colors of baby blue and soft whites, the branches of the green, young trees are barely even swaying in the wind, and there's college students laughing all around. Has anything sad happened in your life lately? Not really, nothing to inspire poems at least. Not that you are bursting at the seams with happiness, but you believed no one really is. There's a lot going on behind the cover of every human passing by, and even if all you can feel is the slight shoulder brush of a stranger, you do know those shoulders carry as much, if not even more weight than yours.

That's it. You start writing, and word by word they flow, one line, two lines until you have seven of them - you even managed to rhyme! It's not much, but it's honest work. Since there is no one close by, you begin to read the poem out loud softly. Hearing what you wrote always helps you perfect the rhymes, the punctuation and change around words if they sound too awkward. After erasing, rewriting and erasing again just to end up redoing the whole last two lines, you finally thought it was good enough.

---

Here and now, I must take a vow:

You'll never hear me confess, that in the depths of my weary chest

Underneath the smile I wore, there's a sadness in my soul;

Nothing's wrong - it's my biggest lie, hiding a muffled cry

Just behind a giggle and a laugh, acting is my biggest craft;

I loved you - but heard the ticking of the clock and thought

No more. It's time I stopped and gave you up.

---

You smile, because for a split second you actually think your poem sounds really good. But then, the insecurities crash on top of you again. Your club mates are probably writing long, heart-wrenching poems that are going to make you cry when you read them. Your idea will surely seem shallow and rushed in comparison to theirs. With a sigh, you wish to be able to just give yourself this one. Tell yourself you did good enough by trying and move on - brush it off and think progressively, that your next poem is going to be even better than this one. But you don't truly feel that way, so you begin to beautify the first letter of every line with calligraphic letters to overcompensate for the lack of skill you feel you have. The capital H at the beginning of the first line, the capital Y at the beginning of the second line and so on; you turn them into beautiful, aesthetic calligraphy as much to your ability. In the end, you just think you've made a mess, and that there is simply too much ink on the page now.

---

Here and now, I must take a vow:

You'll never hear me confess, that in the depths of my weary chest

Underneath the smile I wore, there's a sadness in my soul;

Nothing's wrong - it's my biggest lie, hiding a muffled cry

Just behind a giggle and a laugh, acting is my biggest craft;

I loved you - but heard the ticking of the clock and thought

No more. It's time I stopped and gave you up.

---

Oh no.

Your eyes open wide and you can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

The first letter of every single line, from top to bottom, spell HYUNJIN. The name of the boy you swore to yourself you've moved on from.

Hyunjin, who spoke about life as if it was art itself and spoke about art as if it was life itself.

Hyunjin, with the calm and warm voice - quiet and observant and yet, from the ocean in his eyes, bathed in a soft moonlight, it always seemed like his mind was in faraway lands, dreaming, humming, sighing before a field of lilies in the middle of the night.

Hyunjin, who seemed like through every song he listened to and sang, every poem he read and wrote, every painting he saw and painted, he dicovered all the secrets the universe had. As if human life was a melancholic, nostalgic memory to him, life experiencing itself all over again - he seemed so kind, so unfazed, so utterly in love with existence.

Hyunjin, who read every single one of your poems and told you he'd never allow you to leave the club. He was always so warm, you could hardly believe he wasn't doing it out of habit, spreading his magical touch over the wounds in your heart just like he would with anyone else. But it wasn't his fault you always questioned your worth.

Hyunjin, with whom you've fallen in love with gravely. For every smile he showed around you, for every squeal-like laugh he gifted you, for every time he held your hand gently to calm your nerves, you added one more day to the delusion of hanging on to him.

Hyunjin, who was merely a pipe dream.

He is the co-leader of the poetry club you're in. That's why you've always considered his compliments and encouragements to be just him doing his job - and yet they continued to fuel that foolish fire of yours for far too long. You never confessed to him, of course. But there would be nothing wrong with you two dating, from an ethical point of view. This is just a poetry club ran by students, it's not like having a crush on your boss. But still, the title of co-leader put him above you in a way you couldn't describe. Maybe it's the fact that he has more experience in art. Maybe it's the fact that he's more skillful. Maybe it's the fact that he's taught you many techniques and actually became a figure to rely on. Therefore he was still above you in a way, and so was the leader.

The leader of the club, she resembled Hyunjin in an almost eerie way. People do say, someone who is beautiful on the inside will always radiate beauty on the outside, too. That was a clear description of both of them. She too, was a romantic and an artist, she had a feather light laugh, star like freckles dusting her face, and eyes that could hold galaxies. She was the end of Hyunjin's sentences and the beginning of his thoughts. They made an incredible pair and their teamwork was impeccable as leaders. They weren't dating, but your heart kept telling you, that one day they will. It would be simply impossible for two souls so perfectly woven for each other to simply separate and go their different ways. And yet, you still foolishly had fallen for Hyunjin and every single week, the pain in your chest grew.

Oh, it hurt. It shouldn't have, really. You were just a newcomer being silly and they were fit for a lifetime. You had no chance nor the courage to hope and dream a miracle would land you in Hyunjin's loving arms. She wasn't to blame, he wasn't to blame, your pain was fully your fault. You fell in love and you had to fix it. So you made an oath with yourself to let it go, get those heavy rocks off of your lungs and allow yourself to breathe. There will be other boys in your life. They will not be Hyunjin, but other boys will exist.

You thought you were done with the tears, with the heartache and the love-sick poems. But it seemed you did have one more poem left in you, and it bubbled to the surface.

If the sun wasn't that bright, you wouldn't even have noticed the shadow of someone looming over you. You heard a melodic hum above your head and when you looked up, your heart dropped.

"What do we have here?" He teased, snatching your notebook right out of your hands. You couldn't even react in time, he was already standing up before you, reading the contents of your poem. His lips hung slightly open and he let out a gasp, and you really thought poetry was perhaps the only way to describe the look on his face. You watched his eyes travel the page, his chest deflating very rarely as if he was holding his breath. He looked surprised, but it wasn't an anxious type of bewilderment, nor an excited one either. He was looking at your notebook as if it was some sort of mythical creature, something that shouldn't possibly exist-

And then his eyes found yours. They wrecked you from the inside out, a brown so blown out, so dark, unalike what you've seen before. There was no more serene skies and calm seas in his eyes, there was a storm, a hurricane - a complete blackout. He looked frightened. Maybe he was in fact, still shaken by the secrets of the universe. Maybe humans are not supposed to know what mythological creatures actually look like. Maybe denying their existence would be easier on the collective-

"I can explain!" You jump up from the bench you were seated on. "That was an accident - it's not what it looks like!" He's not listening to you. His mind has gone to those faraway lands again, and he's dreaming while he glances at the page. You move to take the notebook away from him, but he raises it above his head. He's too tall to reach, so you don't even try.

"Well." He speaks, softly, anxiously, awkwardly. He softly lowers the notebook, but he holds it tight to his chest. He won't let you take it back. "I think now it's only fair I dedicate my poetry to you as well." Now it's your turn to remain with your mouth agape. You're blinking at him, and you don't realize you're looking at him exactly the same way he looked at you a minute ago. You're both scared and yet in marvel, and he takes a step closer. You inhale sharply, but it gets stuck in your throat. You can't breathe, your stomach is tense, and a shiver is shaking the fingers of your hands. His eyes are transfixed on yours, and he moves even closer, he's too close - and he asks for permission. "If you'll allow me?"

He's asking you to become his muse.

But you couldn't answer him even if you wanted to. It's embarrassing, but the only thing you can muster is a whimper.

He continues to stare at your face, until slowly and gradually a smile tugs at the corner of his lips and he lets out a giggle. He waves a hand in front of your face and cocks an eyebrow, in an attempt to bring you out of your daze. You're so confused you could die.

Was the last few minutes just a joke? Was he just mocking you-? He must have been. Nothing is as good as it seems, and Hwang Hyunjin couldn't be any different. Maybe he was just a self centered jerk under the dreamy romantic aura he carried. It would be easier to start hating him than to continue helplessly liking him, right?

You barely register Hyunjin putting your spiral notebook down on the bench to gently rip out the page with the poem. He folds the page in two and then hands you your notebook back.

"As the co-leader of the club, I reject your entry. You must write another poem, I'm confiscating this one." You cock your head. What is he saying? Is this still, all part of the joke?

"What- what are you- what are you gonna do with it?" You manage to spew out a sentence, not that it was the most important question to ask. Hyunjin raises his shoulders.

"Put it on my wall? Tape it in my journal? I'll find a place." He answers nonchalantly. You see his eyebrows dance on his face as he thinks for a second, then his expression tells you he got an idea. "Or... I could give it back to you... If you visit the seashore with me."

You side eye him and furrow your brows. "To do what?" He raises his shoulders again.

"I need inspiration for all of the poems I'm gonna start writing about you." He's calm, almost too calm as he says it, and he begins to smile once more as he watches your mouth hang open again.

"Are you making fun of me?" You finally ask, and Hyunjin looks downright offended. He raises his eyebrows, and comically cranes his neck back, pointing a finger at himself and then at you.

"ME? Make fun of YOU? Why? I'm... asking you out on a date..." And you're somehow supposed to process that information without finding a million excuses why this shouldn't be happening and wouldn't be happening. But it is happening.

"So you're not joking?"

"No?" He replies shaking his head.

"You're being serious."

"Yeah.." He replies, this time nodding his head.

"Seriously?" He laughs, finding you adorable.

"Seriously." Suddenly, the situations is a little too real and too much to take. Your hopelessly romantic and yet heavily insecure brain almost ruined a moment you could have only dreamt about, and you almost thought Hyunjin was a jerk. You hide your face in your hands and let out a muffled whine. Hyunjin is extremely amused, and feeling a little playful, he comes closer and cocks his head close to your face. You can't see him, but you peek through your fingers when you hear him speak again. "So is that a yes?" You watch glimpses of his face between your fingers and nod back at him. "Great then!" His face is so bright, and you can't hide your eyes from his anymore. Today, you saw how his eyes looked with a storm in them, but now they look different once more - like a sunrise above a beach, it's all so golden and full of life, sweet like honey and rich like gold. Warmth spreads through your chest, and he places a hand gently on your arm. His thumb caresses your bicep for a few seconds. "I'll text you the details."

You feel drunk, as his touch leaves your body but still lingers. He walks away to his next class, but he turns around briefly to remind you of your task.

"And don't forget you have to write a new poem until Thursday!" He waives the page he stole from you between his fingers and laughs his ass off at the exasperated sigh you give in return and the angry squint and pout.

You're pretty sure he didn't believe you when you said that poem was an accident. And he never will, even when you try to explain it to him on your first date. And on the second date you swear it wasn't on purpose, and on the third date you tell him for just how long you've liked him and how you tried to let him go. And on the fourth date he tells you he knows your poem wasn't an accident no matter what you think or say. And on the fifth, you agree with him.

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

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