#is the first tag that pops up when i type in 'sir' and it cracks me up every time

[sharkface-daydreams]

sad? draw shark. stress? draw shark.

interminable existential dread? d̸̥̆r̵̙̅͘̚ͅa̸̛̰͐̈̀ẇ̷͔̥̳̂͛ ̶̗̻̗͗̚s̸̳͕͇̼̏͑̓h̶̹̮͐̄͊̌a̴͇̬̭͑͋͜r̵̭͚͔̜̃̊̍̕k̷̲͇̰̳̀

#my art stuff #wips #sir that's my emotional support shark #sir your melons are a gift from the gods #is the first tag that pops up when i type in 'sir' and it cracks me up every time #weird day.

[jeyramarie]

The recruit- Yelena Belova x Reader (Part 8)

summary: sometimes things are too good to be true

wc: 2,629

warning: blood, guns, angst, cursing 

a/n: omg!! two parts left, aaaah!! lmk if you like it, feedback is appreciated! if you wanna be tagged lmk and happy reading  🦋

part 1~ part 2~ part 3~ part 4~ part 5~ part 6~ part 7

The sun crept through the curtains, shining on Y/n’s face causing her to stir awake. She turned on her back and began to rub her eyes, opening them slowly to look at the crack ceiling. Her fingertips traced her lips softly as she remembered what happened the night before. They had finally kissed and they also finally realized the feelings that were involved. Feelings that have been in each other’s heart for quite some time but they were both scared to admit it. 

The y/h/c threw the covers off her body and stood up from the bed while stretching her arms up. She walked out of the room, trying to be quiet since Y/n didn’t want to wake Yelena up. The blonde was in the next room and is a light sleeper. The first thing Y/n did once she arrived at the kitchen was make coffee. It was extremely crucial, especially after the night before. 

After a few minutes, Y/n finally had her coffee in hand as she leaned against the kitchen counter while looking out a small window. The only thing roaming through her head was the feeling of Yelena’s lips on hers. The way she tasted, the way her hands felt soft on her face. All she wanted to do that second was go and cuddle with the blonde. Y/n was so lost in her thoughts that she never heard Yelena wake up nor saw her standing in the kitchen. 

“Morning.” The blonde said, making her partner jump in surprise. 

“Hi.” The y/h/c said nervously as she traced her finger around the rim of her mug. Silence fell upon them once more as Yelena prepared her own coffee mug. They both felt awkward, neither of them knew what to say. They didn’t know if they should talk about the kiss or not. Y/n moved to the dining table and sat down, staring out the window in question. 

“I think we should talk about it.” Yelena muttered, her accent sounding thick. 

“Talk about what?” 

“You know what.” Y/n looked up and leaned back on the chair as the blonde moved to sit in front of her. 

“I’m sorry for kissing you.” She whispered, tapping her fingers on the mug. 

“Don’t apologize… I liked it.” The blonde whispered back with a smile. 

“What’s gonna happen now?” The y/h/c asked looking with hopeful eyes. 

“I don’t know..” Yelena whispered as Y/n leaned forward with her elbows on the table, closer to her partner. 

“We can um… we can just wait and see where it goes… if you want.” The blonde nodded and smiled, pushing her chair back to move to the stove. 

Yelena made breakfast that day, for the first time in the whole mission. Y/n was surprised it was actually good which caused the blonde to be low key offended. 

“Why would you doubt my cooking skills?” She asked and drank from her juice. 

“Well because I've never seen you pick up a knife with the purpose of cooking, it’s always to kill.” Y/n laughed and popped a piece of fruit in her mouth as the blonde chuckled along. 

“I don’t hear any complaining.” Yelena mumbled with her mouth full as the y/h/c smiled. 

“No complaints, it’s very good.” She smiled widely, interlocking her fingers and placing them under her chin. Y/n looked at the blonde as she continued to eat. Yelena looked up to meet her partners y/e/c eyes, which were already staring. 

“We should um… probably think of what to do with Neculai.” The y/h/c whispered as the blonde nodded. 

“Do you have anything in mind?” Yelena asked, grabbing both plates and pushing her chair back to stand up. 

“I mean… we’re a bit far away and hunting him down is a bit dangerous… but we’ll be free quicker.” 

“I think we will be better off if we just find him and kill him. Valentina too.” 

“Yeah but they can either find us or kill us first. Both ideas have their downfall.” Y/n said as she pushed back her chair to take her coffee mug to the sink. Yelena was washing the dishes when the y/h/c’s arm came in front of her, placing the dish down. Suddenly, soft lips came in contact with her cheek making her stop and turn to her partner. 

“I’m gonna uh… go look for my computer..” Y/n stuttered nervously and walked off, leaving  Yelena a blushing and smiley mess. 

Somewhere over Europe

Neculai walked back and front inside his private jet as he scratched his chin in thought. He had just left St. Petersburg after questioning Melina and Alexei about where the women may have gone. 

Valentina wasn’t good either. She was staring at her hands as she poured herself a glass of whiskey. They were ruining her plan and all Valentina desired was to kill them herself. Get them out of the way.

“Yelena wouldn’t leave without knowing where to go first.” She said and turned to the romanian man who was already staring at her. 

“She never moves without a plan. She knew where to go before getting into that helicopter.” Valentina continued, pointing out the window. 

“Where do you think they went?” Neculai asked, walking towards her. 

“I-I don’t-“ 

“They can be anywhere by now, Valentina!” He shouted in anger, making her take a few steps back. 

“Domnule, am găsit un apartament. Este sub Romanoff la Budapesta. (Sir, we found an apartment. It's under Romanoff in Budapest.)” One of Neculai’s men said, walking towards them with files in his hands. He handed them his boss and nodded his head, excusing himself. 

“Mulțumesc, Soran. (Thank you, Soran.)” Neculai mumbled as the man walked away. 

“Budapest.” He almost whispered as his eyes scanned the files in his hand. 

“It’s not far from here.” Valentina muttered and took the last sip of her drink before putting the glass down. 

“Micah! Întoarceți acest avion… mergem la Budapesta. (Micah! Turn this plane around… we’re going to Budapest.)” Neculai shouted at the pilot and turned back to Valentina, lifting up his glass in a toast. 

“We can’t just show up there.”

“Who said we can’t? It’s better like this, we can kill them faster.” 

The apartment was quiet, the only thing you could hear was Yelena’s shower and Y/n typing away on her computer. She was trying to look for a way to find Neculai first so she went back to the surveillance footage and phone calls from his office. The y/n/c stood up and walked to the kitchen counter to make herself a snack when she heard a door creaking. She believed it was Yelena walking out of the bathroom so Y/n didn’t do anything. 

“Hey, so I was thinking we can order chinese today! I really wanna eat out of those cardboard boxes with the chopsticks!” She shouted so the blonde could hear. When she didn’t get a response back, she turned her head towards the hallway in question. 

“Yelena?” She called out and saw a figure out of the corner of her eye making her turn and gasp. A metal rod came in contact with her temple, knocking the y/h/c out cold in an instance. 

A few minutes went by when Yelena finally stepped out of the bathroom. The apartment was unusually quiet which caused her to be on edge. She walked slowly towards the bedroom and grabbed her gun before walking out to the hallway again. The blonde put her gun up immediately looking into every room until arriving at the kitchen. Her heart broke when she saw Y/n unconscious on the floor causing her to lower the gun and run to her. 

“Y/n? Y/n? Hey, come on.” She muttered, turning her body around to see her temple all bloody. 

“Y/n-“

“Oh look who it is!” A female voice exclaimed, making Yelena grab her gun immediately. 

“No need to shoot… I come in peace.” Valentina smirked and she held her hands up in surrender.  

“Where’s Neculai?” The blonde muttered. 

“Why? Did you miss me?” He asked, walking next to Valentina with a cigar in between his index and middle finger. Yelena looked at them in anger and shot her gun, taking them by surprise. She purposely shot the wall closest to them to make them duck and hide. The blonde took the opportunity to take Y/n and drag her into the bedroom to protect her from them. 

“Y/n, hey! Please, wake up. Please, come on, open your eyes.” She said, tapping the y/h/c’s cheek repeatedly. Bullets began to hit the wall and the door making Yelena duck her head and cover Y/n’s body with hers. 

After some time, the bullets stopped making the blonde stand up and run to the closet to get the machine gun. The bullets were prepared and she was fully equipped when she decided to open the door. She turned the knob slowly, opening the door as she made sure it didn’t creak. Yelena turned to Y/n one last time before closing the door. The blonde automatically put her gun up and began to walk around the apartment. 

She saw movement from the end of the hallway, making her turn and shut from her gun immediately. The bullets hit the wall and she hid behind a column before the other man shot her way. The blonde peaked her head to the hallway and pointed the gun at the shooter, quickly shooting her gun. The man yelled in pain and fell to the ground making Yelena walk out and run to him, to see him struggling. She shot him three more times before taking his gun, putting it in the back of her jeans. 

Yelena looked up, searching the place for Neculai or Valentina. Someone shot at her from the bathroom, making her run into what was her bedroom. Bullets hit the wall next to her making the blonde cover her head while they stopped shooting. The room turned quiet signaling the russian that the person had stopped shooting. She took that moment to move behind the door of the bedroom as heavy footsteps were heard down the hall. The masked man walked into the bedroom slowly with his gun up, walking away from the door. Yelena took the gun from her back pocket and fired the gun, shooting him in the back of the head. 

“I know you’re here, Belova!” Neculai shouted from somewhere around the house.

“Come out and fight like a real widow!” Valentina followed, making Yelena clench her jaw in anger. She replaced her small gun with the big on and stepped out of the bedroom. 

“I’m not hiding, especially from you!” The blonde said loudly, making her way down the hallway and into the kitchen. Neculai stood with his back towards Yelena, not expecting her to be there. She put down her gun and quickly kicked him in the back of the knee to make it bend. Her arm went around his neck, beginning to choke him as his hand went to his pocket to get his little knife. He took it out and waved the knife towards her, slicing her arm. 

The blonde yelled in pain and released her grip, making the romanian turn to her immediately. She kicked his hand, watching the knife slide across the floor and kicked his face causing him to fall back. Neculai extended his hand and grabbed her ankle as Yelena swung her other leg to kick him off. As she stood she grabbed her small gun from her pants and pointed it at him as he stood up as well. 

He gave her a bloody smile as he caught his breath before bolting towards her. Her finger pulled the trigger causing a loud bang followed by a shout of pain. Yelena shot him on the leg, to slow him down. Necuali stayed on the floor, clutching his thigh as the blonde moved to the living room to see Valentina already pointing the weapon at her. 

“Put it down.” Yelena muttered, walking closer to the black haired woman as she took a few steps back. 

“Not before you do.” She laughed dryly as they walked around the room slowly.

 The blonde stomped forward and grabbed Valentina’s hand as she lifted her foot to kick her in the gut. The black haired woman stumbled back while Yelena walked towards with her fist clenched. The woman dodged her fist and tackled the russian to the ground.

 Valentina straddled her and wrapped her hands around the blonde’s neck, keeping her grip strong. Yelena slapped her arms and pushed her face away but nothing seemed to work. Her oxygen levels were dropping fast, her lungs screamed to breath and she was beginning to look purple. 

Suddenly, a loud bang was heard followed by a painful shout from Valentina. She immediately released her grip from Yelena’s neck and fell to the floor as she clutched her arm. The blonde sat up slowly and turned around to see Y/n holding up a gun, still pointing it at the injured woman. 

“Lena, get up.” The y/h/c stated, never lowering her weapon as her partner hurried towards her. 

“Get our things, we’re leaving.” She whispered and Yelena nodded, running towards the bedroom to pack their bags, again. Y/n was left alone, pointing at Valentina as she screamed in agony on the ground. 

Suddenly, a piece of fabric went around her neck, pulling her back to crash into a hard chest. The pressure was cutting off her airways as she tried to fight the person off. The y/h/c was lifted slightly off the ground as she heard an evil chuckle next to her ear. 

“Looks like I got you now, fetiță dansatoare.(little dancer girl.)” Neculai said with a bloody grin as Y/n’s nails dug into his skin. She tried to gasp for air every chance she got but she couldn’t. Her vision began to fog as her lungs continued to scream for oxygen. She moved her arm down the side of her thigh, pretending to let go but instead, she grabbed the knife placed under a little pocket on her jeans. Y/n lifted her arm and stabbed Neculai on his leg causing him to scream out in pain as he released his grip around the y/h/c. She quickly turned, knife in hand, ready to defend herself when she felt a presence from behind her. 

Valentina swung her gun, hitting Y/n on the side of her head causing her to stumble over an already broken coffee table. The y/h/c turned to face and kicked her leg but was quickly grasped by the black haired woman. She laid still for a minute, thinking of an escape plan as she looked at Neculai walk towards them. 

“Two against one? Seriously, this is unfair.” Y/n chuckled dryly as she shook her head. She pulled her foot towards her chest causing Valentina to stumble forward, closer to her giving her the opportunity to punch her in the face. 

The y/h/c stood up and began to block Neculai’s hits until she was an inch away from the wall. Her body turned and the man’s fist went through the wall as she ran down the hallway towards Yelena. She kicked every door open, hoping to see the blonde with the bag packed. When she kicked the last door, the room was empty and the window was open. Y/n’s face softened as she frowned, noticing that everything was gone too.

yelena taglist: @evansmermaid @ilovefandoms102 @imfuckinggenius @yasmina-aesthete @yelenabelovv @halsmultibitch @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @daniescady @ilovewinter101 @s1ut4nat @nebulablakemurphy @wandanatvoid @lavendernonsense @theshippergal @kacka84 @trin-berly @sav06nat

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova fluff #yelena belova angst #yelena belova smut #yelena belova fic #yelena belova imagine

[shorkbrian]

💖💘my heart’s dizzy and I my dose of serotonin whenever I read your prose🤟🏽😩 was wondering if you could do reader with an erratic future-vision!quirk so when they first meet yandere!Hawks they’re suddenly plagued by erotic, sensual, 365days-level of disturbing visions of them, so reader actively avoids them (it’s like those Tik Tok future-seeing videos playing to “Play Date”)

Prelude - Hawks isn’t a famous pro-hero in this, but he still has his quirk. It’s not really mentioned a bunch tho lol.  This is rlly long, but I decided not to put it into two parts because the smut is so slight lol. Hope this meets your expectations anon, thank you for reading!

Pairing -  Keigo Takami X Reader

Warnings - NSFW mentions, dubcon, noncon. No out-and-out explicit smut, just a really long story. Hawks is manipulative and gets what he wants

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5ukAQcKEIJuzIbP55xp07x?si=iz6I-RoDSdCNYhT2Du8etg

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

He was a friend of a friend, someone you had only met once or twice.

Your friend kept bringing him to hangouts, he kept showing up on her instagram feed,  getting mentioned in her twitterbio, and eventually it came out that they had started dating. It didn’t catch anyone by surprise.

What did catch you by surprise, was how infatuated with him your friend was.

“He’s just sooooo hot, isn’t he?” She squealed, shoving her phone in your face to show off a shirtless pic he had just sent her.

You nodded in agreement, quickly appraising the pic before turning your head. Yeah, her boyfriend was attractive, but you weren’t one to ruin relationships. Plus, you and Keigo had never really talked past the brief “Hey” and “Wassup?” said in greeting when introduced the first time.

“Can he come to the mall with us on Friday? I promise there will be no third wheeling.” Your friend begged, clasping her hands together. You thought about it for a second - this had been a fun shopping trip the two of you had planned a few weeks ago, meant as a girls date on a day the mall wouldn’t be crowded. But would it really hurt anything if her boyfriend came along? Probably not.

“Yeah, I don’t mind.” You shrugged, watching your friends face erupt into a wide grin. “But don’t ditch me to go makeout in a bathroom or something, got it?”

“Sir yes sir!” Your friend faux saluted, before patting you on the shoulder. “Thanks girlie!”

You jerked back, head suddenly swarming with visions, your quirk activating. Your quirk was helpful in some ways, but you mainly tried not to use it - headaches resulted, and you hated getting glimpses of the future. Sometimes they’d be good, but they were often bad - you had gotten a screenshot glimpse of your brothers death, his face marred and bleeding out onto the pavement.

It still made you sick to think about it.

Touch wasn’t something you could always avoid, but you tried, seeing as how it activated your quirk, giving you visions of your future with whomever you touched, or whoever touched you.

You saw your friends face, eyes puffy with tears, shouting something. Then another scene flashed, your friend on TV, talking to a reporter.

Thankfully, the visions ended, this episode relatively quick due to how short of a time she touched you.

“Oh shit, I forgot, I’m so sorry.” She rushed to apologize, holding her hands up and backing away from you.

“It’s-it’s fine.” You wheezed, waving your hand in the air to signal that it wasn’t a big deal. The vision just probably meant the two of you would get into a fight soon, which wasn’t uncommon.  It was fine, you were fine.

——

The mall wasn’t too crowded, which made the day pleasant. Your friend was talking to her boyfriend, hand tangled with his as the three of you walked in.

“So (Y/N), what do you think about that new Victoria’s Secret launch?” Your friend bumped you with her hip, drawing your attention as she pulled you into the conversation between her and her boyfriend.

“Oh, um… what?” To be fair, you had zoned out when the couple started being gross and mushy, which was like, the second your friend met Keigo at the door.

The blonde man laughed. “Victoria’s Secret just launched a new line of lingerie, have any thoughts about it?”

Turning red, you smiled sheepishly. “Ah, well…. From what I’ve seen of their stuff it’s… nice? So I’m sure it’s good.”

Your friend mock-gasped, almost slapping you on the arm before quickly remembering your quirk, drawing her hand back. You gave a quick nod of thanks.

“(Y/N)! Don’t tell me you didn’t even know about it?! I practically live, eat, and sleep Victoria’s Secret, it’s impossible to miss their product drops when you’re one of my friends.”

Unsure how to respond, you floundered, opening and closing your mouth like a lost fish.

“Babe, leave her be, she’s probably just shy.” Keigo stepped in, giving his girlfriend a chuckle as he steered you both towards a shop.

“Fineeee.” Your friend whined, turning to focus on the task ahead. “They have a VS shop here though, you’re not getting out of here without going in with me!”

----

The VS store was huge, smelling sweetly of flowers, bright colors assaulting your vision, soft pop music filling your ears.

It was hard not to cringe at all the fancy lingerie, you were honestly a bit embarrassed to be strolling through the store with your friend, let alone her boyfriend by her side.

“Does-does Keigo mind?” You quietly asked your friend, out of earshot of her boyfriend, who was looking at perfumes, last time you checked.

“Not at all birdie, I’m used to clothes, any form, any shape.”

You whirled around, squeaking in surprise at Keigo, who had apparently finished with browsing the perfume. He was flashing you a 1000 watt grin, continuing with what he was saying. “I’m a model, practically every girl I’ve ever met I’ve seen in less than full underwear, it’s no big deal.”

“Oh…. Cool.” You offered, cheeks turning red again. You felt like such a blushing schoolgirl, turning red when faced with looking at bras and panties, flushing when a man got too close.

It was the nature of the store, you told yourself, that was making you so embarrassed.

“Oo! What do you think of this one?” Your friend was holding up a babydoll, pink, with light fabric and zero coverage.

Keigo wolf whistled. “Man, that’d be a good look for you. Lets buy it.” The couple moved on, pointing at different clothes, your friend occasionally picking one from the rack to hold up against her body, looking for Keigo’s opinion.

They were cute together, laughing over the cheesy names on the tags of the lingerie, holding hands as the browsed, your friend occasionally stopping to plant a kiss on her boyfriend’s cheek.

“I think that’s everything that I like…. (Y/N), your turn!” Pulled out of your casual observance, you back pedaled. “Me? No, I’m not really the type to wear this kind of stuff - I don’t even think most of it would fit, I have weird proportions.“

“Nonsense!” Keigo looked around for a moment, going to the nearest rack to quickly sift through bras, before pulling one out. “This one would make all the boys drool over you honey.”

He held it out towards you, shaking it slightly when you hesitated to take it. Was your friend okay with him talking to you like that, pushing underwear at you to buy? A quick glance sideways showed she was more than okay with it, clasping her hands excitedly as she watched you.

The bra was sheer, soft lavender fabric forming the cups, an intricate embroidered detail of flowers dotted haphazardly over the bra. It was pretty, but you weren’t exactly partial to it. When would you wear it? Who would you wear it for? You weren’t sure it was your style. Plus, it probably wasn’t even your size.

“My arm’s gettin’ real tired.” Keigo joked, before you finally took the garment from him. Checking the size, you paused for a second, blinking towards the man.

“How did you-?”

“You spend enough time in the fashion industry, you learn to tell a girl’s size just by looking at her.”  He seemed to puff up, as if he was proud of his bra-sizing skills.

“Let me help her pick out some things too!” Your friend cried, rushing past you to head over to the next rack, ushering you to follow with a wave of her hand.

You ended up with an armful of lingerie - bras, panties,  an odd bustier or two, and some other flowy items, like a sheer robe and a lacy chemise. The choices weren’t exactly made by you, more so made by a combination of your friend and Keigo together. They had alternated holding up items towards your body, comparing color and garment cuts, lost in their own mushy-gushy world, and it was almost like you didn’t exist for a few moments, nothing more than a barbie doll to dress up.

But now the three of you stood in line to checkout, and you felt included again, your friend cracking jokes that were making you snort, Keigo watching the two of you interact.

Until your friend accidentally brushed against your arm as she shifted forward in line.

Again, you saw her tearful face, heard her sobbing, before the other scene flashed, of her on TV, talking to the reporter. She still looked upset, eyes rimmed red, nose running, hair a mess.

With a gasp, your vision returned to the present, and you were wobbling on your feet, almost falling.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry (Y/N), I’m so so sorry. Here, let me take that, go sit down by the entrance.” She fussed over you, face concerned as she carefully took the stack of clothes from your arms, making sure to not make contact.

“Oh fuck, is she alright?” You heard Keigo ask, your friend stepping in front of you as he moved forward to check on you.

“Yeah, she’s just feeling a little dizzy. Can you make sure she doesn’t fall and crack her head open? Just wait by the entrance please.”

“Okay. Oh, here-“ You were a bit dazed, but you saw Keigo fish his wallet out of his pocket, thrusting the entire thing into his girlfriends hands before patting her on the shoulder “Whichever card is fine.”

And then you were stumbling towards the entrance, towards the bench right outside.

You hated seeing the future. Why was your friend crying? What had happened to elicit such a reaction? The unknowns killed you, kept you up at night as you tried to puzzle out the events that could lead up to the scenes from your visions.

Not looking where you were going, you tripped on air, unable to catch yourself as you plummeted towards the ground.

But then you were seeing Keigo.

He was above you, face flushed and sweaty, hair tousled, his chest bare. The room was dark, barely lit, and he was so close. The man leaned down to kiss you, then the scene changed.

You were bent over a table, only able to see the solid wood your face was smushed against. There was a heat in your belly, a tingling between your thighs, and pressure. Someone was talking - Keigo, muttering behind you angrily. You head was pulled up, a hand fisted in your hair, and then one of your knees was pushed up onto the table, and the pressure inside exploded into pure pleasure.

You felt yourself screaming, bucking your hips as you suffered through whatever the feeling was.

The scene changed again.

Hands tied above your head, you were pressed against a wall, sitting on some kind of…. Saddle? Your legs couldn’t touch the ground, and you squirmed, before gasping loudly.

There was a nub in the seat, ribbed and textured, slick with some kind of liquid… From you? Then you saw Keigo, standing in front of you, smirking at you with hardened eyes.

He had something in his hand, arms crossed over his chest while he fiddled with the object, muscles flexing. He was shirtless again, and-and his cock was hanging out of his sweatpants, pressed against his belly, smearing precum over his skin.

You tried to say something, anything - the visions never lasted this long, it was too intense, there was so much sensation. But your mouth wouldn’t move, choked up.

Keigo’s hand was on his length, rubbing slowly, saying something that didn’t reach your ears.

The scene changed.

Something was shoved down your throat, warm and twitching. You were sobbing, choking, clawing at whatever was in front of you. A dark laugh filled your ears, and you opened your eyes, met with the clenching abs of a strong stomach.

Keigo was brushing your tears, no, smudging them over your face. Were you wearing makeup? His cock was sitting in your throat, his hips moving in tiny jerks, stabbing your esophagus, making you gag.

Then you were back in the present.

A hand was holding your arm, keeping you from falling and making contact with the hard floor.

“-N)? (Y/N)? Are you okay? Talk to me birdie”

You made a panicked noise, pulling yourself out of Keigo’s grip so fast that you fell flat on the floor, scrambling backwards away from the man.

He almost looked scared, confused as he followed after you, holding out his hands. “(Y/N), you gotta calm down, you’re gonna make yourself sick.”

The man reached for your arm again and you pressed yourself against the floor, screeching out a loud “No!!” before he could touch you. Keigo paused, looking at his hand, then at you. “Hey, hey, I’m not gonna touch you. It’s okay little birdie, you’re alright.” He cooed, sinking to his knees in front of you.

You were hyperventilating, wide eyes trained on Keigo. Your thoughts were swirling in your head, you couldn’t focus, the sensations of the future still echoing through your body.

Keigo crouched there while you steadied your breathing, talking to you the entire time, trying to help you relax and calm down. You weren’t sure what he was saying, something about the weather? Or a dog? But you could feel your breathing evening out, head clearing.

“Hey, she fall?” You friend was carrying two bags, crouching down beside Keigo, cocking her head at you.

Her boyfriend nodded, turning to her and taking one of the bags. “I caught her, but then she freaked out and fell for real.”

Your friend nodded. “I should’ve told you earlier, she has a touch-based quirk. Every time someone touches her, she sees snippets of her future with that person.”

Keigo cocked his own head, gazing at you curiously. “I guess her future with me isn’t too positive then?”

Your friend shrugged. “Eh, she just hates seeing parts of the future. She doesn’t want to know what’s going to happen, makes her worry or something like that. Don’t take it too personally, she’s like that with everyone.”

“It-it-“ you rasped out, causing both sets of eyes to swivel towards you. “-I hate it... because-‘cause I can’t ever cha-change it.” You shivered.

Keigo nodded in understanding, before rising to his feet. “Think you can walk to my car? I’ll drive you two home, I think you’d benefit from some rest.”

He dropped you off at your apartment, and you wearily waved at the couple as they drove off, before heading inside.

----

A week passed, then two.

The visions you had concerning Keigo were plaguing your mind, filling your body with anxiety. There had been a distinctive feel of fear during each one, and despite all the other various sensations felt, the most overwhelming had been distress.

Whatever was going to happen, you weren’t going to like it.

You were holing up in your apartment, ignoring your roommates when they knocked on your door, only leaving your room to eat or grab water. You couldn’t sleep, too scared you’d have dreams, or more accurately, nightmares of what you had seen.

Curse your quirk.

Trying to pass time, desperate to keep your mind off of the future, you threw yourself into any activity you could find.

First you tried coloring - it was supposed to be relaxing, but it gave you too much time to think.

Then you tried gaming, spending hours in front of your computer mashing the keys. That worked for a bit, but your eyes and head soon protested.

You listened to music at full volume, tried several workout videos, even resorted to cleaning your space with fervent energy.

None of it took your mind off the inevitable.

“(Y/N), someone’s at the door asking for you.” You jerked awake, slumped over uncomfortably on the floor, the half finished card tower in front of you promptly knocked over at your erratic movements.

“(Y/N)?” Your roommate called again.

“Yeah! Coming, sorry.” You mumbled, scrubbing sleep from your eyes. You guess your body would give out sometime and force you to fall asleep, but as you moved to stand, you sorely wished your body had chosen a more comfortable place to pass out.

Opening the front door, you immediately took a cautious step back, sleepy demeanor vanishing.

Keigo smiled at you, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other holding a bouquet of flowers.

Flowers?

“Hey birdie, mind if I come in?”

You stared at him for a second, immediately on guard. Why did he have flowers? Why did he want to come in? Wasn’t he dating your friend? She didn’t live here, what was he doing here?

The man cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow at you. You moved to the side, holding open the door for Keigo to come inside.

Your roommates were home. If anything happened, they would be within earshot.

Keigo shot you a smile and a thanks, before immediately moving into the small living room, taking a seat on the couch. When he saw you still hovering by the open door, he patted the cushion beside him.

“Come sit, I promise I don’t bite.” He thought for a moment, before grinning. “Well, not unless you want me to.”

Hesitantly, you shut the front door, going to sit in a ratty armchair further away from the winged man. If this bothered him, the man didn’t let it show other than a short pause before he spoke.

“So, I know it probably seems like, super weird for me to show up at your apartment, but hear me out.”

Flowers were shoved in your lap, Keigo taking great care to avoid touching you.  “I felt bad about the other day, and my girl and I decided that we should get you some flowers. She picked ‘em out, it even says so on the note.”  The man laughed, running a hand through his hair.

“She’s so uptight about this kinda stuff. Anyways, just wanted to say that I’m sorry for grabbing you like that. If I had known, I would’ve let you fall flat on your ass. But I know now, so I’ll be better, cool with you?”

Finishing his little speech, Keigo held out his hands, wings stretching behind him to mimic the gesture.

Looking at the flowers in your lap, you felt your hands shaking. Picking up the little note attached to the bouquet, you found that your friend had indeed picked out the flowers, which made sense. They were your favorites, and in a nice color too.  Keigo had left a messy, scrawled “Sorry!” in one corner, before signing by his girlfriends name.

“Um, thank you Keigo, you didn’t have to apologize.” You murmured, rubbing one of the flower petals between your fingers. You were so glad your quirk extended solely to humans - if you were shown glimpses of the future of everything you touched, you would most likely go mad.

“Nah, I wanted to. Also wanted to swing by, check how you’re doing. You been taking care of yourself?” He relaxed on the couch, legs spread, arms resting behind his head. This wasn’t his home, yet you totally could believe that it was by the ease with which he owned the space with his presence.

“Oh, well… I’m still here, so…” You shrugged.

Keigo frowned. “That’s not a fun answer. How much sleep you been gettin’ each night? Eight hours?”

You shook your head, huffing out a breath in place of a laugh.

Keigo clicked his tongue. “No sleep? That’s bad for you y’know. Have you at least been drinking water? Eatin’?”

You nodded quickly, looking up to meet the man’s gaze. “I’m not a kid. I appreciate your concern, but it’s not necessary.”

At this point, you think the best thing for your health would be for the man to leave.

The blonde man stared at you for a moment, before sighing. “Alright, I get it. But I don’t want to hear that you’ve passed out or something, got it? Your friend would kill me.”

He rose to his feet, and so did you, walking him to the door. “Thanks Keigo, and thank you again for the flowers. That was very sweet of you both.”

Keigo beamed, giving a two fingered salute. “You deserve it birdie. Well, have a good rest of your day, yeah? Eat something.”

You smiled, at Keigo as he turned away, beginning to whistle as he strolled down the hall.

Once the door was shut, you found a vase for the flowers, filling it with water and setting it on the table. Your roommates would think it was pretty, and it was, a nice little centerpiece.

That really was nice of your friend and Keigo to offer you flowers.

——

“Welcome to Gold Nile Jewelers, how can I-“ You blinked at the man entering the shop. “-Keigo.”

“Birdie? You work here?” He looked just as confused as you felt, cocking his head to the side as he approached the counter.

You looked around the small display room, nodding your head. “Yep… You looking for anything specific today?”

“Ah, right!” He clasped his hands together, bending over to lean on the display counter as he looked up at you. “So professional (Y/N), it’s just me.” The man chuckled.

“Actually, I thought I’d get my girl a cute little bracelet or something like that, you think she’d like that?”

Knowing your friend, she’d be ecstactic. “Oh, absolutely. Any particular occasion, or just an “I love you gift”?” You asked, already running through the list of bracelets in stock.

“It’s our two month anniversary in another week, thought I’d get her a little sumn’ sumn’, y’know?”

Gold Nile Jewelers was an expensive store. You patted yourself on the back for not dropping your jaw when he said “two month anniversary”. People came here for wedding rings and special occasion jewelry, not monthly anniversaries like some high schoolers.

Well, unless they were rich.

You showed Keigo the selection of bracelets currently available, the man listening quietly to your product descriptions and recommendations, asking questions about the fit and feel, and if you think your friend would like a particular one.

“Honestly Keigo, I could choose one I think she’d like, but it’d be more special if you chose for her.” You finally told him.  He wasn’t annoying you, but you felt frustrated with his apparent lack of knowledge about his girlfriend. How did he not know what her favorite color was? “I’d suggest coming back in a few days. Go home, see what kind of jewelry she wears, pay attention to the colors she gravitates towards, if she’s allergic to any metals.”

Keigo tapped his chin. “Hmm, you have a good point. I guess I should pay more attention to those kinds of things.”

You nodded as you began to pack the expensive bracelets back into their display cases. “Gifts for a significant other can be hard. Honestly, it means a lot if they pick it out themselves and surprise you with it. Makes it special.”

“Oh, you have a partner?” Keigo asked, bright eyes watching your hands work.

A frown almost crossed your features, but you stopped it before it could show. “Ah, sorry, that’s not really a work-appropriate question.”

“Awh, c’mon! It’s just me, we’re friends, can’t you tell me?” Keigo pouted, batting his eyelashes at you in an exaggerated, dramatic fashion. The display made you laugh, so you indulged him. After all, he was a friend. No harm in telling him something he was bond to know sooner or later.

“I’m actually single right now. But as a jeweler sale associate, I know how much it means to a person when their partner picks out a gift for them, especially if it’s a surprise.”

Keigo nodded his head solemnly.  “That makes sense. I better follow your advice then eh? Find out what she likes-“ he mused “-I can do that.”

“Good luck Keigo!” You called after him as he strolled through the door, waving when he smiled at you, giving that same, goofy two fingered salute that he always did when saying goodbye.

The man unnerved you, the visions you had experienced concerning him making you worry. But as long as he was dating your friend, you felt that you’d be fine.

-----

Keigo showed up again two days later.

“Back so soon?”

“You know me-“ He shook out his umbrella, placing it in the drip-bin by the door, wiping his shoes on the mat. “I always try to be speedy with my work.”

It was grey outside, drizzling slightly. You loved these kinds of days, where you could sit near a window and watch it rain while sipping tea. It was so peaceful and calm, and always soothed your stress.

“Find out anything useful?” Whatever he could tell you would make it easier to refine the jewelry selection for his particular needs.

“So, she doesn’t have any bracelets, and I asked her about why and she said they annoy her. She likes necklaces.” He clarified,. You could tell by the way he puffed up that he felt proud of his detective skills. “I even made a note of the lengths - she likes ones that dip low, which-“ He wolf whistled, and your stomach turned. But it was fine, just awkward.

“Alright, I think we have quite a few like that. Let me collect them for you and lay them out.”

Keigo strolled around the display room while you bustled about, looking in each case at the shiny metals and stones  

You laid out the necklaces, calling Keigo over. The man smiled brightly at you as you showed him the selection, noticing he was gravitating towards the more simply, elegant choices.

“I’m sure she would be thrilled with any of these.” You offered, Keigo silent as he tried to decide between two necklaces.

Still, the man shook his head, quirking his lips. “I just…. I need to see them on, y’know?” Then he brightened, as if he had just thought of something. “Hey, can you try them on? Model one for me? Just to see what it’d look like.”

You laughed nervously. “Sorry Keigo, but I’m not allowed to do that, it’s against company policy. Only customers get to try on the jewelry, and that’s if they’re supervised.”

“Awh, c’mon! No one else is here, and I won’t tell.” The man leaned forward, shooting you a quick wink before he snatched up one of the necklaces, holding it out towards you. “Please? I just need to see it. I promise I’ll buy it.”

He was so insistent, and no matter how loud the alarm bells were wringing in your head, you felt cowed by his confidence.

“Um, still… I don’t think it’s allowed-“

“Fuck what’s allowed-“ He cut you off, snorting. “-I want to see what it looks like. It’s just me (Y/N), I’m not gonna snitch.”

A heavy sigh, and you finally agreed, taking the necklace from his nimble fingers.  You slung it around your neck, not fastening the back as you held it in place. Hopefully that would be enough to sate Keigo’s curiosity.

His eyes immediately followed the curve of the necklace, how it dipped low towards your cleavage (curse you for wearing a lower-cut shirt today). You tried to ignore the leering.

“Here, let me help you fasten it, doesn’t look right otherwise.”

Before you could protest, he was sliding behind you, deft hands reaching for the necklace your had in your grasp.

“Keigo no-!”

But it was too late.

You were pressed up against a wall, face-first, your hands gathered into the small of your back and held there with a vice-like grip. There was pressure between your legs, something hammering into you, in and out, in and out, in and out.

Keigo was talking to you, you could tell it was the man by his voice. What was he saying? You were too overwhelmed with the sensation between your legs to focus on the words falling from his lips.

Sweat dripped from your temples, Keigo’s chest pressed up against your back was slick with perspiration, his nipples hard and pressing into your skin. It was an uncomfortable situation-

And then it changed.

You were tied up now, tight enough that you couldn’t move no matter how you thrashed. Knees bound in such a way so your ass was up in the air, arms stretched out in front of you, anchored to the headboard of the bed.

Keigo was behind you again - nothing to indicate that the tongue running through your core was his, but somehow, you knew.

You were begging and pleading, withing in your restraints against his tongue, but he wouldn’t let up, he wouldn’t let you crest the mountain that had built up inside. He kept chuckling, the vibrations running through you and making you buck your hips. You felt disgusting.

Then the bed was gone, and Keigo was in front of you. He was sitting in an office chair, your legs straddling his lap. Hands on your hips were dragging you back and forth, grinding you on the hard member protruding from Keigo’s lap. He was flushed, letting out little moans as he kept eye contact with you, smiling and praising you.

Then you were back.

Gasping, you shot away from Keigo, the expensive necklace clattering to the ground as it fell from your hands.

The man froze, confusion etched across his features as he watched you bend over, trying to catch your breath, to calm down, to ignore the lingering sensations from the futuristic visions.

“(Y/N)…”

“I think-I think you should leave.” You heaved, tears building. That had been awful, everything had felt good but you hadn’t. You felt uncomfortable and disrespected and stupid. That couldn’t be your future with Keigo, you wouldn’t be able to handle that. He was your friend’s boyfriend, for goodness sake!

Keigo opened his mouth to say something, but you snapped at him “Leave.”, making the man click his jaw shut.

He walked out the door, shooting you concerned glances the entire way.

You felt better as soon as he was gone, the door clicking shut after him. Thankfully, you were the only employee out front at the moment, and no other customers were present, so no one but you and Keigo had experienced your outburst.

Bending down to pick up the necklace, you inspected it carefully, horrified that you had dropped such an expensive item. It was alright though, so you brought it back to the others, shakily beginning to gather them up to put away.

You didn’t want to see Keigo again.

——-

“I just don’t understand!”

Your friend sobbed, surrounded by tissues on your bed, eyes red and blotchy.  You wished you could rub her back, our give her a hug, but you knew what would happen. So you stayed on the floor, passing up tissues and offering wordless sympathy.

“Why would he break up with me? Why?”

You shrugged, looking for words. “I don’t know… I’m sorry that this happened, but if he can’t see how awesome you are, then he’s an idiot.”

She sniffed, blowing her nose. You could tell she wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t say anything further, instead choosing to wipe her eyes.

She had called an hour or so ago, tearful, asking if she could come over. Refused to tell you what was wrong, but the second you let her in, she had burst into tears, explaining everything.

Keigo had broken up with her via text, that asshole.

“I just…. I thought we were good. Did I do something wrong? I just don’t get it.”

“Neither do I. You said he just texted you out of the blue?”

She nodded her head, going to blow her nose again. “We were supposed to go out for dinner tomorrow, it’s our two month anniversary.”

You cringed. Did your encounter with Keigo in the jewelry store have something to do with this? Had you driven your friend’s boyfriend away? Had you weirded him out? Oh god, what if this was all your fault?

Your friend broke down into a sob again, slumping onto your bed. You passed her another tissue. “It’ll be okay. I think he’s a stupid fucker that just wanted to play with your heart.  He isn’t worth shit. You deserve so much better than him.”

She nodded, blotchy eyes seeking out your own. In the back of your mind, you cringed, seeing the exact same scene from your vision. Well, at least the two of you hadn’t gotten in a fight.

——-

A few weeks later, Keigo was at your door.

“You need to leave. Now.”

“Aw, c’mon (Y/N), at least hear me out?”

You huffed, crossing your arms. Maybe he had a dumb explanation for why he had dumped your friend. You were wary of him accidentally touching you again though. “Fine, but make it quick.”

“No promises.” He grinned, breezing past you and into your apartment. He beelined for the chair you had sat in last time he was here, leaving you to take a seat on the couch.

“Alright-“ He settled in, fixing you with a gleeful eye. “How do you feel about your quirk?”

Caught off guard, you blinked. Wasn’t he going to explain why he had broken your friend’s heart? “Um, what?”

“Your quirk, y’know, the one that makes you see the future?” He leaned forward, rubbing his hands together with a smile. He seemed far too pleased, and it made you nervous.

“I hate it. If I could get rid of it, I would.” You stated, ready to move onto a different topic. But just as you were about to ask him about your friend, he rose to his feet, fishing in his pockets.

He drew out a bracelet, black and red, thin. “Well then, lookie what I have.” The man walked over, sitting down quickly on the couch next to you, causing you to immediately scoot to the end. You didn’t want him touching you.

“Oh, sorry.” He apologized upon noticing your unease. Instead of scooting closer, he simply tossed the bracelet onto your lap, leaning back as he watched you look at it curiously. “Put it on, see how it fits.”

“I don’t need jewelry Keigo, and I think we should be spending our time discussing why you bro-“

“Just put it on (Y/N), please? I promise you won’t regret it.”

Huffing, you did as he asked, clasping the bracelet around your wrist. It fit snug, almost too tight, but it hugged your wrist comfortingly. It was pretty, but you didn’t see what this had to do with your quirk, or with your friend, or anything that held any relevancy.

Bracelet now on, you fixed Keigo with a blank stare. “Happy?”

“I don’t know.” Keigo grinned. “Are you?” And then he was hugging you, arms wrapped around your shoulders, face buried in your neck.

You shrieked, already panicking as you tried to ready yourself for the onslaught of  visions that accompanied physical touch.

They never came.

Choking back a surprised gasp, you drew back from his hug to find Keigo’s eyes, the man smiling down at you as he watched your reaction.

“Kei-Keigo…” You stuttered, shocked, surprised, euphoric, confused - so many emotions, all at once. You couldn’t even think to brush off the hands still around your shoulders, thumbs brushing at the tops of your exposed collarbones by the neck of your shirt.

You weren’t able to think rationally, couldn’t focus on anything but the awe you felt at being touched without being slammed with visions of the future.

You forgot about the terrifying visions you had gotten when Keigo touched you.

You forgot about how he had hurt your friend, broke her heart with no explanation.

You forgot about his hands refusing to leave your body.

“Keigo, this is…. Amazing” You breathed, wide eyes snapping up, catching his smiling face, eyes crinkly and twinkly.

“I had my team modify some quirk-cancelling cuffs! You seemed so upset whenever someone touched you, I couldn’t leave you with such a burden.”

Nodding, you returned your gaze to the bracelet, turning your wrist this way and that to look at the bracelet from different angles.

“I mean, I know how much I like being touched, and touching. I think I’d totally die if I couldn’t.” Keigo chuckled, but you weren’t listening.

The rest of his time sitting next to you on the couch was spent explaining the colors he had spent so long picking (“They’re my personal favorite, aren’t they nice?”) and why he had decided on a bracelet (“It could’ve been a necklace, but I think it looks better in it’s original cuff design, looks cooler that way.”).

By the time he had to leave, you were completely sidetracked, so distracted with your shiny new jewelry that you didn’t even remember to ask what his deal was with being a jerk to your friend, his now ex-girlfriend.

-----

“-and then he gave me the bracelet. I wasn’t thinking much after that, I just… I can hug you, isn’t that incredible?”

You gave your friend another squeeze, feeling a smile dance across your face. But then you sobered, pulling back from her with your hands on her shoulders, quickly becoming serious.

“But he’s really starting to kind of weird me out. Why won’t he explain why he broke up with you? He’s being a little bitch. I tried asking him a couple times, but he kept cutting me off, and I feel like the bracelet was a distraction to stop me from busting his chops about his behavior towards you.”

Your friend looked sad for a second, before shrugging. “I dunno, he just said things weren’t working out, and that while he liked me, he’s not ready for a relationship right now ‘cause of where he’s at in his life.”

“Psh-“ You scoffed, going in for another comforting squeeze for your friend. “-that’s code for “I’m a fuckboy and want to sleep around”.”

“I know….. But it still hurts.” You friend sighed, wrapping her arms around your neck. “But at least he gave you that quirk thing. I’ve never seen you so happy.”

“I just wish he was a mildly decent person.” You grumbled, detaching from the hug to sit back, glaring at the ceiling. “He gives me the fucking creeps.”

“How so?” You friend locked her head to the side, throwing her arm over the back of the couch. You had called her over the second Keigo had left, finally gathering your wits about you.

“I dunno…” You shrugged, not quite ready to tell her about the disturbing visions containing him. Did that have something to do with their breakup? Was it your fault? What was going to happen with Keigo? It honestly scared you, the residual feelings and sensations you could remember from the visions.

Your friend nodded understandingly. “Some people just give off those vibes. Well, at least we don’t ever have to see him again. Good riddance I say.”

You agreed.

——-

Knocking on the door, you shuffled your feet as you took in the house.

It was one of those rich places - nice neighborhood, fancy street filled with lavish houses, expensive cars. You felt slightly out of place, shifting from foot to foot in your clearance-rack clothes.

The door swung open, revealing a sleepy Keigo, shirtless, clad in nothing but sweatpants.

“Oh, um-“ You quickly turned, averting your eyes, trying to give the man privacy in case he hadn’t realized he was shirtless. It looked like he had just woken up from a nap, eyes blinking owlishly, hair mussed.

“Hey (Y/N), come on in.”

Still keeping your eyes turned away, you stepped inside the opulent house, trying not to gape too much at the decor inside. You didn’t want to look like a complete peasant in front of Keigo, but he’d already been to your house, so you could imagine that he knew of your poor-ness.

“Something wrong? You can look at me y’know, I’m not gonna turn you to stone or something.” Keigo joked, voice entirely too close for comfort.

Head whipping around, you found that he was too close, practically almost touching you as he stood beside you, head cocked as he watched you.

“No… nothings wrong, you’re just…” You gestured to his torso, and Keigo looked down in confusion, before looking back at you, a grin on his face.

“Ah, just woke up.” He shrugged, before reaching out to touch your arm. “Bracelet still keeping that quirk at bay?”

You nodding, following the blonde as he turned and walked further into his house, towards the kitchen.

“Glad to hear! I just wanted to look at it a bit, make sure nothing’s worn or torn, y’know? Hate for you to have to deal with the no-touching thing again.” He said over his shoulder, gesturing for you to sit down at the island, on one of the barstools.

You did so, watching the man open his fridge, take out a carton of milk, uncap it. “Is it too tight?”

“Nope.”

He drank right out of the bottle, and you watched some dribble out of the corner of his mouth, down his chin. The man finished gulping down the milk, taking the bottle away from his lips to swipe at the white trail of liquid rolling down his chin.

Eyes dark, he made contact with your own eyes as he cleaned his chin with a finger, stuffing it in his mouth to suck it clean.

That was gross.

The next second, he was back to normal, cheerfully putting the milk back into the fridge. “Good, good. Now, mind if I take a look at it? You should keep it on though.”

You nodded, and Keigo straightened, walking around the island to sit next to you, shuffling his stool closer.

He grabbed your wrist, laying it out on the island, before beginning to poke at the bracelet, running his fingers over it, fiddling with it, squeezing the tendons in your hand, smoothing his hand up your arm.

It felt a bit intrusive.

“So the visions are all blocked?”

“Yep.”

“And you can touch and be touched?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s your appetite? Sometimes complete quirk suppression can make you lose your appetite.”

“It’s been normal, I guess I’m a little hungrier than normal, but I’ve been getting out more too, not as afraid of crowds.”

“Nice! And how about your libido?”

You spluttered, choking on your own spit, snatching your hand away from Keigo’s wandering touches.

“Excuse me? That’s a bit personal, thanks.”

Keigo shrugged, bright eyes hooded and lazy. “It’s just a question.”

“Are you done making sure it’s all good? No broken parts?” You changed the subject, narrowing your eyes. You can’t believe your friend had ever dated him, that you had ever thought he was anything but a playboy.

You wouldn’t even be here, in his house, but he had come into the jewelers a while back (both you and your friend had blocked his number), spouting something about your bracelet needing constant checks and maintenance in order to keep suppressing your quirk. (“Wouldn’t want it to stop working, right? Just stop by sometimes, here’s my address.”).

So here you were.

Keigo leaned back a little, raising an eyebrow at your irritated tone of voice. “Woah there, don’t get snippy. I’m doing you a favor, right? I’m not trying to hurt you or something.”

Technically, you guess he was right. But he had played your friend, had fucked with her feelings. He was a fuckboy, liked messing with each and every girl he could find, and you didn’t care to be one of them.

“And I appreciate that Keigo. But I like to keep my private life private.”

Keigo was silent, simply holding out a hand for you to place your arm in, so he could fiddle more with the bracelet.

Several moments of awkward silence passed before he spoke again. “You’re being awfully ungrateful. It makes me think you don’t even want this little gift. If I were you, I’d be doing everything I could to show the person kind enough to do such a thing for me how thankful I was.”

Lost for words, you stared at the man. Was he expecting some sort of award? Some sort of prize? It’s not like you had anything to give him.

“I don’t have anything to give you in thanks. Just my words, which I’ve said plenty of. I didn’t ask you to make this for me.” You pointed out.

“Sure, but you use it, don’t you? You wouldn’t like it if I took it away, right? Think about how miserable your life was before I gave you this.”

Your life had been miserable. Afraid to go out in crowds, afraid to leave the house, Nervous about grocery shopping, about paying and having the cashier touch your hand as they handed over the change.

Scared of public transportation, of coffeeshops and bookstores, of public parks, even your own home. What if one of your roommates forgot and touched you? Or accidentally bumped into you?

Plus, you could hug now, and shake hands, and slap your friends back when she told a horrible joke, or tap her when you wanted her attention.

You didn’t want to go back to before. “I’m sorry Keigo… I really do think it’s lovely, and I can never thank you enough for doing this for me.”

Keigo let go of your arm, and it swung back to your side. You could feel the man looking at you.

“You know what would let me know that you mean it?”

God, it better not be something sexual.

“You could buy me coffee. Or maybe a cookie from that bakery on 1st Avenue, you know the one? With the little bunny pastries?”

That surprised you.

“You go there? That’s my favorite place.” You mused, looking at Keigo in surprise. He didn’t seem the kind of guy who’d like a place like that. But appearances could be deceiving.

“Of course! I really like their stuff.”

“Alright,” You conceded, rising to your feet. “I’ll get you some stuff from there. Want it today?”

Keigo rose to his feet as well, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “Yeah! Let me get dressed real quick, and then I’ll go with you. Don’t go anywhere birdie.” He shot you a wink, before sauntering past you, out of the kitchen.  You raised a brow, surprised. He meant to go with you?

“Make yourself at home while you wait, don’t be afraid to kick up your feet!”  

——-

The bakery smelled as lovely as usual.

A warm atmosphere, good food, friendly employees. It was your favorite place for a reason.

“Alright, what do you want?” You asked Keigo, the two of you staring up at the menu.

“Hmm, I don’t know. What are you going to get?”

“Probably a muffin, those are my favorite.”

“What!?! That’s my favorite too! How crazy.” Keigo smiled at you, dimples showing. You got the feeling that he was brown-nosing you, but you kept the thought to yourself, striding up to the counter to order.

Muffins purchased, you approached Keigo, who was lounging by one of the display cases, admiring the delicate, mouthwatering masterpieces held within.

“All good to go?” His smile was so charming, so friendly, you almost caught yourself wanting to see it more. Huffing in irritation at yourself, you pushed past him, shoving the bag with his muffin into his chest.

“Here’s your stuff. I’m going home now, see you around.”

“Wait!” Keigo turned, jogging a little to catch up as you exited the bakery. “We gotta eat these before they get cold - hey, birdie, are you listening to me?“

You weren’t, stoically keeping your head turned forward, walking with determination. There was only so much of Keigo that you could tolerate, and you had reached your limit. He was starting to really annoy you, didn’t he get that you wanted to go home? You’ll just eat your muffin on the subway, it’s not that hard.

“(Y/N)-“ His sudden growl was punctuated by an arm on your shoulder, spinning you around and pulling you towards the man.

“Hey-!” The sudden collision of your face with his chest knocked your breath away, almost causing you to drop your own muffin in the process.

When you managed to gather yourself, you shot a glare up at Keigo’s face, only to find the blonde smirking down at you, a fierce glint in his eyes.

“I expect you to listen when I’m talking, got it? I don’t like being ignored.”

That’s evident.

You tried to back away, but he still had a hand on your shoulder, squeezing you tight to him. “Keigo! Let me go, you stupid idiot-“

“Stop it, I’m not doing anything to you, ya big baby.” He cooed down at you, before taking his hand away, letting you stumble backwards.

He was just messing with you, teasing you. It was obvious, yet still you allowed him to be around you.

“Alright, I’m sorry, I know all the touching’s gotta be new still. Wanna go eat these in the park? I’ll buy you some ice cream if you want.”

“I don’t want ice cream, I want to go home.”

Keigo frowned, walking after you when you turned on your heel, heading for the subway. “Why do you dislike me so much? I’ve done so much to help you, and yet you spit in my face. Your parents ever teach you how to be grateful? Or even respectful?”

You gasped at his accusation, stopping in your tracks to whirl around, only to find the man far closer than what you had expected. Still, you tried to hide your surprise at his proximity, jabbing a finger in his direction.

“You are a playboy, you broke my friend’s heart, and you want to sleep with every single person you come across just to mess with their feelings. I don’t want to be around you. I won’t get dragged into that.”

The man watched you, face solemn and contemplative. “Is that really how you see me?”

“Why would I say any of that unless it was true?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking up and around, as if gathering his bearings, before back down at you.

“Have you ever considered that I’m the one getting my heart broken?”

“Yeah right-“ You scoffed, only for Keigo to cut you off.

“People want to sleep with me because they think it’ll get them something that they want. Fifteen second fame, a piece in a tabloid about my “new lover”…. Think it’ll help them further their career, or that I’ll give them money. I can’t find anyone real.

“And my friend wasn’t real enough for you?” You spat, not believing him for a second.

“Nope.  You think she liked me for who I am?”

“Uh, yeah? She gushed to me all the damn time about how good you were, how she felt about you. That girl held nothing but love and affection for you.”

The man snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, sure, love for my wallet.”

“She’s not like that.” You argued, brows furrowing.

“Really? Cause she was sucking me dry, and not even in a sexy way.”

You crinkled your nose at what he was implying. Your friend wasn’t like that, she truly had felt for Keigo, had liked him as her boyfriend. She wasn’t just a leech.

“I’m done talking about my failed love life.” Keigo said lowly, nudging your shoulder. “I just thought two friends could hangout, but it seems like you think all I do is try and fuck people.”

“No, Kiego…. That’s not what I meant.” Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t, but right now…. You almost felt a twinge of sympathy for him.

Some of what he was saying made sense, how people would try and use him for various reasons. But that still didn’t explain his sudden and harsh breakup with your friend. And over text no less, a complete douche move!

But you felt bad about his words, about how he seemed to actually want to hangout, and yet you were accusing him of trying to sleep with you. But what about those visions you had had? Was that even how they went? Or were you remembering falsely based on your bias towards the man?

And what about his suggestive touches, his leering gaze? Was that maybe just how he always was, and it wasn’t exclusive to you? Were you inflating your place in his life, thinking that he wanted you?

It was confusing, and you didn’t want to think about it, try and untangle the lies from the truth. Right now, you just wanted to eat your muffin.

“If you really didn’t mean it, then can we go eat these in the park? I just want to chill with someone that isn’t trying to gain something from me. I want to spend time with someone that’s real.”

With a half-irritated sigh, you nodded, hoping you wouldn’t regret hanging out with the obnoxious man.

-----

He kept calling you, texting you. You’d had to unblock his number at some point, in order for him to text you about the bracelet and when he needed to look at it.

“Come overrrrr, I’m bored!”

“Birdie, are you hungry? The delivery place gave me extra Torikatsu and I don’t want it to go bad. Can I come drop it off?”

He’d swing by the jewelers, leaning over the counter to talk to you about a recent shoot he’d booked, or something he saw recently.

Keigo seemed to slowly insert himself into every facet of your live, against your will, ignoring every subtle, irritated attempt of yours to turn him away. Every single time you saw him, your mind would inevitably think of the visions, but you felt like you couldn’t trust yourself with those anymore.

The man assured you at every step, he had no romantic feelings for you, he just wanted a friend, someone to put him in his place, be honest with him.

You definitely were honest.

Snapping at him when he showed up at your apartment uninvited, coming up behind you on the street and grabbing your sides, laughing when you shrieked and tried to hit your attacker, only to realize it was Keigo.

Tearing into him when he tried to talk badly about your friend - she had been having less and less contact with you, and you couldn’t figure out why. Now your relationship with her was reduced to curt text messages. Maybe she was just going through a hard time, and wanted alone time? Still, you let her know you were there for her, whenever she needed.

You were honest when Keigo asked your opinion on food, TV shows, clothes, movies. It was almost satisfying saying something sucked, just to see Keigo’s face fall slightly, before he shook his head, whining.

“Then help me pick something out! I can’t do it without you-“

He totally could, he was just being a baby.

The more he inserted himself into your life, the more you realized that he was akin to a petulant child, just with muscles and a penchant for inappropriate touching.

Whenever he saw you, he’d try to draw you into a hug, letting his hands drop far down your back, way too low for you to feel comfortable. You’d slap them away, and Keigo would laugh, before ruffling your hair.

He’d have you come over so he could check your quirk suppressor, except he was in the middle of a show, and it was getting to the best part. (“Sit down, shhh, it’s just getting good!”) You’d have to sit through the entire thing, enduring Kiego’s hand lazily drawing shapes over your pants on your thigh, simply putting it back whenever you shoved it off.

He was insufferable, irritating to no end, but you could tell he was a lonely man, bitter about his love life and with his friendships.

So you tolerated his presence.

After all, he wasn’t trying to hurt you. That’s something he reiterated every single time you shied away from his touch. He made you feel like a fool for thinking the man was hitting on you, when he made it so clear that he wasn’t, only interested in friendship.

Until you fell asleep at his house.

Another one of those days were he needed to look at your quirk suppressor (which you were 99% sure was fine, it seemed like he just enjoyed seeing it on your wrist). He had been rummaging around in his room before he had to run and open the front door for you, talking as he walked back to return to his previous task.

Apparently he was trying to find a good shirt, seeing as how he had pants on, but his chest was bare. Keigo instructed you to sit on the bed for a second while he retreated into his massive closet, trying to find a good shirt  to go with the rest of his outfit.

His bedroom was pretty large, a full California King taking up the majority of the space, neatly made. The sheets and blankets felt soft beneath your fingers as you sat on it’s edge, prepared to wait for Keigo for a bit.

The man always took his fashion very seriously - one time he’d even spent two hours trying on clothes until he’d decided on an appropriate outfit to go to the park.

So you followed your tired eyes, exhausted from work and dealing with Keigo, worrying about your friend, daily life stressors and the like.  Keigo wouldn’t mind if you laid back, right? Your feet wouldn’t be on the bed, so it’d be fine.

And it was fine, pleasant, the room the perfect temperature.

You were roughly jerked out of sleep by pressure. Pressure on your hips, pressure on your lips.

Eyes jolting open, you tried to inhale, only to find yourself unsuccessful.

Keigo was on top of you.

Panicking, your hands came to push at him, a muffled sound of protest being squeaked out from where his lips pressed against yours.

Noticing you were awake, Keigo pulled back, smiling the whole while.

“I’m not willing to wait anymore, I just gotta have you.”

His eyes were glinting, hair tousled, still shirtless. You felt goosebumps arise as you remembered the vision you had so long ago, of this exact moment.

“Wai-mmph!” His lips were on yours again, passionate and warm, moving eagerly. A wet tongue pressed at the seam of your mouth, surprising you and making you blanch, which allowed the man access.

Kiego’s tongue explored the inside of your mouth, playfully tapping your own wet muscle, encouraging you to lift it and wrestle with him.

This was too weird, this wasn’t happening, you couldn’t do this-

Biting down hard, you snapped your teeth shut on his tongue, and Keigo yelped, drawing back immediately.

“Ouch, what the fuck!?! Chill out (Y/N), geez.” His hand was dabbing at his mouth, wincing when it came in contact with his bleeding tongue. You had bitten him deep, but you weren’t focused on that right now.

“What are-what are you doing?” Your voice was breathless, disoriented. The room felt…. Dark, and suffocating, as if it was closing in on the two of you, trapping you.

Keigo looked down at you, and it was only then that you realized you had been moved to lie on the bed fully, shoes off, legs splayed. The man rested on his stomach between them, his weight pressed against your body, keeping you still.

��I told you, I can’t wait anymore. I’ve been as nice as I can, but it’s time you started paying me back for everything I’ve done for you.”

What? Paying him back-was he talking about the quirk suppressor he had gifted you? Had he been lying about his true intentions this whole time?

“That’s not right, it was a gift, you-you don’t have to pay back a gift.” You spluttered, feeling as if your chest was collapsing.

Keigo shook his head, swooping down to leave a bloody kiss on your forehead, which you cringed at, before pulling back to speak.

“Nah, it wasn’t a gift. You know how expensive it was? You were always gonna have to compensate me. Now shush, I wanna feel you-“

One of his hands grabbed your jaw, keeping your face turned towards his, pressing down until tears formed in your eyes. His lips were bloody from the bite on his tongue, tasting unmistakably like iron.

You didn’t want this.

Trying to bite him again left you with a slap to your thigh, making you cry out. Keigo huffed out a laugh against your mouth.

He detached from your lips, just to start nibbling at your jawline, elating streaks of red where his lips touched.

“God, you are so sexy. I was trying to chill, but then I came out and you were sleepin’ all cute, and I couldn’t fucking stop myself from touching.”

“Stop doing this, I can pay you with something different. I don’t wanna do this Keigo.” You whispered, on the verge of crying.

“No, I get to decide what you’ll be doing for me, it’s my bracelet-“

“It’s not, you gave it to me, please stop-“

“Shut up.” He growled sinking his teeth into the side of your neck, nipping at the skin hard enough to have you screaming. “You’re so ungrateful, where’s my thanks? I’ve done so much for you.”

“Thank you, thank you Keigo, I appreciate it all-“ You hurried out, hoping it was what he wanted to hear “But I can’t do this, please don’t make me. I wanna go home.”

“There we go, I like the sound of you thanking me. You’re going to thank me for each and every time you cum tonight, got it?”

“No, no, we can’t do this, I can’t! Get off of me, please-“

“You’ll do it, or else I’ll whip you until your flesh hangs off of you in strings.” He hissed, squeezing your jaw cruelly.

The tears in your eyes overflowed as you fell silent.

“Aw, birdie, don’t cry. I’m not gonna hurt you, I never have, right?” He waited for a second, watching your face before he pressed harder, eyes hardening “Right?“

You nodded jerkily, and Keigo came to kiss your tears away, savoring their salty taste as they rolled down your cheeks.

“Keigo, this isn’t right though, please get off me. I don’t want this-“

“You want me to take this away?” A hand caught your shaking wrist, the one that had the quirk suppressor fastened snugly around it, wrenching it up so both of you could see it. “Huh? Put you back where you were in your miserable little life? Running away from everyone, holing up in your apartment, not willing to touch or be touched…”

The very thought made your insides churn, and a fresh round of tears rolled down your face as you shook your head no, lips wobbling as you whined. You felt so pathetic, so small and dumb underneath Keigo.

“That’s what I thought. You’re going to relax now, right? No more begging unless it’s for more.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, beginning to shuffle around until he could slide his hands under your shirt, pressing against your tummy as you flinched away.

“Don’t worry birdie, you’re gonna like every single thing we’re gonna do. You’ve had sex now, yeah? Since I gave you the bracelet?”

You shook your head “no”, it’s not like you were eager for sex before you got it, and all the touching-without-terrifying-visions thing was still new to you, the dating world was being eased into. Somehow though, every single date seemed to be crashed by the man on top of you.

Keigo lit up like a Christmas tree, licking his lips gleefully. “Okay, okay, I can-whew, that’s hot-I can be gentle.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince you, his hands skirting up your ribs, shucking up your shirt as the traveled higher and higher.

“Keigo please-“

“Don’t you dare say stop, I’m not gonna. You’re the first person that doesn’t want anything from me, you’re real, and I’m not stopping.”

His admission made you cringe, recoiling from his touch. He followed you, palms finally smoothing over your breasts, over your bra.

“You’re going to do what I say, or else this-“ Your wrist was wrenched into view, red-and-black bracelet glittering. “-gets removed. And I’ll still do whatever the fuck I want, but you’ll be off in your mind having visions of who-knows-what while I have my way. Got it?”

Your blood chilled, body suddenly feeling ice cold. His tone was dead serious, spitting out the words with a sense of finality.

“So, just lay there and take it birdie, I’ll be good to you.”

#yandere keigo takami #keigo x reader #Keigo Takami #yandere takami keigo #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #Yandere bnha #yandere #tw.dubcon #tw.noncon #tw.somno #tw dubcon #creepy keigo

[kookdbean]

unbothered

a/n: another addition to so it goes! just little snippets of acts of service between jungkook and oc. this takes place over the first school year together. also, if you guys have any ideas for more drabbles, pls send them in! enjoy! warnings: mentions of food consumption, coffee consumption, hints at students family life.

series masterlist

i.

It's Friday, the end of the second week of school.

The past three days, Jungkook and you have been arriving at the same time. You'd wait for one another, catching up from the day before since you parted. He'd crack a joke about how he wasn't sure what tires him out more, his roommate's stupid shit or waking up early five days in a row.

Today, you're running twenty minutes behind; twenty-five minutes before school started.

Teeth brushed and face washed were your first two priorities this morning. You were able to throw your hair up into a messy updo; not having enough time for the full routine, only patting moisturizer into your skin. It would be enough to make it seem like you put some effort, right?

It's after you've parked, backpack hanging over your shoulder, tote bag hanging low from your hand, that you spot Jungkook's car and freeze.

Did you leave him waiting?

Clocked in, you make your way to drop off your belongings in your room as fast as you can. No one stops you in the hall, a small sigh of relief leaves you. Who knows how long Ms. Lee Ji-Wan, a second grade teacher who literally beams sunshine, would have kept you if she spotted you.

A moment, just a small moment you allow yourself. A moment where you're not rushing yourself, worried about being somewhere, in the comfort and stillness of your classroom. Hand rubbing your nape, head slowly rolling out to the side. Just a moment.

And it's not ruined, not when you hear three soft knocks on your door before sliding open.

Jungkook's head is poking in, his wide eyes searching the room before settling on you. His eyes quickly look you over before he allows himself in, door closing behind him.

"You didn't wait, did you?" is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, your hand moving down to rub your fingers against your collarbone.

"Not long, no," Jungkook reassures you, not staying still.

"Jungkook," you frown, reaching over to your desk for your coffee, that you realize you forgot when your fingers wrap around nothing, balling up into a loose fist.

"Here," Jungkook laughs, moving his hand from behind his back. An iced coffee.

Hands instantly clasping against your chest, big eyes and a hopeful tug of your eyebrows; your facial expression reading, "is that for me?" Jungkook laughs, holding the coffee out to you, shaking it to show you that it's real, and it's for you.

"I got here just before you, actually. I was in the mood for some expensive coffee and figured you'd like one, too," Jungkook explains, that smile never leaving his lips.

ii.

The end of a meeting is always such a relief.

The quiet, exciting buzz that comes with the meeting being called to it's end, almost like an exhale that relieves your body from the weights of the world for just that moment; weightless and carefree.

The chairs being pushed away so teachers could stand, the sound of shuffling paper and occasional crumple, quiet chatter while some people gathered together, others just making their way of the room. Talk of lunch plans, upcoming events (personal and 'professional').

That was feeling is what you look forward to at the start of every meeting.

It's the feeling you relish this moment. Tae-yeon rubs your forearm, telling you she'll see you after the day ends before rushing off to join Jae-eon, physical education teacher. You look after her, standing up, watching as the pair makes their way out of the room.

You turn back towards the center of the room, eyes scanning the room until you spot Jungkook.

Jungkook's not in the spot he deemed as his unassigned assigned seat during meetings, but at the front of the room, talking to the principal. His body language is animated; his papers on the chair closest to him, hands moving regardless of close they are to his body. You could see how his eyes widened and his tone came off as serious, passionate.

You can't help but watch. You can't help but wonder what he was so passionate about, what he was sharing with the principal.

You can't take your eyes away, not until they bow to each other and the principal is turning towards you, to make his way to the exit behind you. Quickly, you duck your head and a quiet wish leaves your lips, "have a good day, sir."

"You waited," Jungkook simply says, your head turning upwards and eyes automatically moving to his face.

"Yeah," you hum.

"You didn't have to," Jungkook reassures with a small smile, folding his small stack of papers in half and tucking it under his arm. He makes his way towards you, hand gesturing towards the door.

"Yeah, but I wanted to. We always go to lunch afterwards," you state.

"Oh," Jungkook falters behind you. He watches you make your way to the door, turning midway when you don't feel his presence.

"You wait for me," you shot back, a teasing look on your face.

"Yeah, because I haven't been sucked into a teacher's clique," Jungkook defends jokingly.

iii.

You're looking over the math worksheets from this morning, red pen in one hand, chopsticks handling japchae in other.

"This is DEAN" playlist on Spotify plays softly from your computer. You hum, in tune to the music and to the taste of the japchae that your roommate, Sana, made last night.

You don't hear the door open, your face down towards the container of noodles. Cheeks full and puffed out, you throw your head back, a quiet moan, eyes closed. God, you loved noodles.

"You okay?" Jungkook laughs, taking you by surprise.

Head lowering to look at him, your eyes are wide and don't bother chewing, just watching as Jungkook gets closer.

"I thought you had lunch plans," you struggled, slowly chewing and swallowing, repeating the process until your mouth becomes empty again.

Jungkook laughs again, reaching over to twist the cap off your bottle of juice open before handing it to you.

"Take it slow."

You wave him off, taking a sip, eyes looking him up and down.

"You didn't met up with your friend... Seokjin?" you ask curiously, hoping you got the name right.

"I did," Jungkook nods and taps his finger against your desk, "but Jin-hyung had something come up."

Your lips pout, brows furrowing, "Sorry. I know you were looking forward to it."

"It's fine, I know where he lives," Jungkook cackles, placing a small container in front of you, "but just as I promised..."

"Is this the cake he made last time?" You gasp hopefully, pulling yourself closer.

There's a glimmer in your eyes, it makes Jungkook laugh quietly, shoulders shaking and nose scrunching up as he nods.

"He gave me some extra after I mentioned that I shared it with a friend from work," Jungkook smiles, popping the lid open.

What you didn't know about Jungkook that his hyung(s) did was that Jungkook only shared food with people he really cared about.

iv.

Since the days Jungkook and you used to just magically show up at the same time to school and wait for each other so that you could enter the building together (neither you or Jungkook know that the other peeked at the time when they realized that arrive at that time, thus the new addition to their daily routines), you've both had the other's phone number.

First, texts were exchanged when one of you decided to go for a coffee run, always asking the other if they wanted something.

Then came the texts to tell the other that you were running late (you showed up ten minutes before the school day started just to find that someone turned on your computer).

Following that were the texts that came in the evening. The "what was the name of the website that you those pens?," "what was the dish you mentioned Namjoon made for dinner?," the "I have roommate cake and coffee tomorrow morning!!!"

You remember the first time Jungkook took a sick day, after the winter break, after you'd deemed yourselves friends and not just coworkers.

You're in the teacher's lounge, lips hovering over your water bottle. You're pretending to pay attention to your phone, thumb scrolling against the screen as if you're on social media, but in reality, you had your conversation with Jungkook opened. Subtly trying to type out everything you were hearing in the teacher's lounge.

"before you call me a child, I just have to say... you chose the wrong day to be absent, mr. jeon."

Jeon Jungkook: what is this? are we fourteen? are you trying to get me to wonder what the day is like without me?

You scoff to yourself, trying to bite back a smile.

Jeon Jungkook: when I woke up again this morning, it was already 10am, and the first thing that popped into my head was that it was two hours into the school day and math is almost over.

A laugh leaves your lips, the noise from the nearby teachers becoming quiet as they looked over at you.

Eventually, your texts ranged throughout the entire day. From the morning texts asking if the other wants coffee, texts swapping recipes in the late afternoon, to just asking about weekend plans and just...talking to one another.

v.

"I'll have you know, Jeon Jungkook, that my Saturdays are sacred," you gushed, waggling your finger jokingly.

Jungkook snorts, pushing the cart past you, leaving you standing there. He throws a quick glance over his shoulder at you, rolling his eyes with a smile on his face.

"No one forced you to tag along," Jungkook points out.

"You're right. But, you also know that I cannot and will not turn down a lunch invitation," you sigh dramatically.

"Ah, so when you see my face, you see a money bag?"

"Didn't you hear? The way to someone's heart is through their stomach," you sigh, hand over your chest, walking closer to where Jungkook's stopped.

Jungkook's looking at things that he can gift the students in the after school art club. You both had already gotten little gifts for your respective classes, but Jungkook had told you that he wanted to give his art kids some supplies so that they'd be encouraged to keep doing art; supplies that parents couldn't afford or in some cases, didn't want to purchase.

"I have three students who go to high school next year," Jungkook murmurs to himself, scratching the back of his neck, "but I don't want the rest of them to think I don't care about them."

"What were you planning on getting for them?" you ask gingerly, hands running over the different sketchbook covers.

"Taehyung was able to get some good quality mixed media sketch books from the art museum. They hold workshops every week and he found some extras," Jungkook turns to look at you, a hint of a soft smile, "so I was thinking a basic watercolor set, some pencils, color pencils?"

"Mmm, maybe leave the water colors for the ones going to high school? Not that you don't trust the younger ones, but water colors seems like some more responsibility," you comment.

Jungkook hums back in acknowledgement, moving to stand next to you. The hairs on the back of your neck stand at his proximity, your heart racing when you catch his scent.

"You added erasers and sharpeners?"

"Pencil set."

"Hmm," your eyes scanning down the aisle. You spot chalk hanging at the end of the aisle, hand reaching out to pat Jungkook's bicep before quickly moving down the aisle. Adjusting your bag onto your shoulder, you dramatically gesture towards the various packs of chalk.

"Not only can they make art in their sketch books, but out in the neighborhood," you try telling it to him like a salesman at a car dealership, "art that can be remade, reworked. Sidewalks, driveways, whatever!"

Jungkook can't fight off the laugh as he doubles over, his laugh echoing around him.

His laugh is contagious, it might be your favorite sound. It has you breaking character, your laugh joining his; a symphony that could bring crowds together, one that people never wanted to stop hearing.

"What? It's not good?" you defend yourself through giggles.

"Did I say something?" Jungkook chuckles, pushing the cart towards you, carefully placing several packs of chalk in.

"Did I win myself some dessert?" you turn away to peek at the other aisles.

"That already came included with the lunch offer. You, my friend, have won yourself something even better."

You realize Jungkook's movement until you hear his voice right in your ear.

"You get to pick one thing from the store and I'll buy it for you."

You shiver, stepping away from him, overwhelmed. You try to brush off the way the back your neck heats up, your heart beats a little faster, your hands get a little clammy. Just a moment to compose yourself, yet, a moment becomes too long when the hairs on the back of your neck fall back down and his scent is no longer surrounding you.

You look up with wide eyes, watching Jungkook make his way into the aisle that had "acrylic and oil points" written at the top.

"Wait!" You call out, trying to catch up to him, "you can't judge what I pick!"

tagging: @yslkook

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x oc #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #so it goes

[fandomscombine]

TUA SERIES PART 4: Diego

The Hargreeves Kerfuffle Part 4:Diego

The Hargreeves siblings x Hargreeves!Reader (Familial Relationship)

BG: The Reader is Number Eight. It follows how you fit into the structure of Season 1 and the family dynamic of the siblings.  

This part follows y/n blowing off some steam with Diego being a supportive brother.

You don’t have to read every single part as each focuses on the reader’s relationship with each of her sibings.

But of course to get most of the story, read the whole thing. Besides why would you want to miss out on Hargreeves Siblings content?

A/n: sorry if this took long to update, I lost the master copy of the fic document- well technically, I was and am typing this on an auto-save document but it had glich somehow and when I searched and open the file it was only the first 2 parts. It took a while to find back the most updated document.

WC:1028

DISCLAIMER: I DON’T OWN THE TUA SERIES. THIS IS JUST BY A FAN WOULD REALLY ENJOYED THE SERIES AND WAS INSPIRED TO WRITE.

*ALSO NOT PROOFREAD

>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<

>>THE HARGREEVES KERFUFFLE SERIES MASTERLIST<<

READ: [PART 1]   [PART 2] [PART 3]

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

Your blood was boiling.

How dare Luther, your own brother accuse you of killing your own father.

Sure, your childhood wasn’t exactly the healthiest and emotionally suitable for a child but in a weird way your father had shape and trained the 7 of you to be at least somewhat in control of your powers.

Raising superpowered children is no small task.

Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized how far from the academy you had walked.

You stared at the city Harborview, imaging how your life would be different if you hadn’t had these powers.

Peace. That’s what you think you would have. A sense of peace, living a normal daily life- get up, go to work, hang out with friends, sleep in a nice cosy apartment and repeat. No powers.

The final words of Sir Reginald replays in your mind.

‘The end is near, get the others ……and save…..the…..tttiiiimmm’

The end is near, get the others and save the tim- whatever or whoever tim is.

You assumed that it meant his time was up and had wanted the family back together. You had done just that but what had that got you? Indictment for one. A family reunion consisting of 5 emotionally incompetent adults and one trapped in a kid’s body.

Leaning across the railing you shouted. ‘Cosplaying as batman at aged 6 was cute but as a grown ass adult lurking in the shadows is definitely a red flag!’

A chuckle sounded from the corner. ‘Noted m’mam. Will not do it again’ said a deep voice.

To an untrained ear, no sounds of footsteps could be heard.

You, however can as do your siblings. All of who can also identify who is coming based on the sound- each ever have a slight variation, a unique touch.

Luther has the heaviest, loudest footsteps out of everyone.

Allison- quiet and delicate.

Diego has a sense of purpose in his walk- no doubt like the secret agent and superheroes he had always wanted to be.

Klaus is a bit unpredictable; it is either too fast and energetic or soft and slow pace.

Five. He cheats, mostly blipping in and out of places. But if need be, he usually takes leaps or huge steps, always ready to teleport out of any situation in midstep.

Ben. The master of stealth. He always manages to take the least steps, the most effective route between hiding points.

Vanya though without training is actually very good. At times you wouldn’t even notice her near as proven in her countless times secretly watching the rest of you training.

‘I doubt that.’ Turning to face the new arrival. ‘You are the literally embodiment of Vigilante Hero Complex.’

The city lights illuminating his face.

‘Ah! Case in point!’ You pointed at his outfit. ‘You’re even wearing a spandex suit, Diego!’

Diego shook his head, brushing off your teasing aside. He was happy to at least help bring a smile onto your face- even if it was at his expense.

‘How you feeling?’ Even though you all were the same age, Diego can’t deny that the numbering hadn’t had an older sibling protectiveness to come over him- especially when Luther was being a total dick. If only he was in charge, he thought.

‘Better… better now that you’re here.’ You admitted, bothering your brother never gets old. ‘Thanks by the way-for the cheer up.’

You both stayed in comfortable silence it was not until 20 mins later did Diego break it by apologising.

‘Sorry for what?’

He didn’t reply instead he lifted something out of his pocket. It shone against the deep blue waves.

You gasped. ‘Dad’s monocle.’

‘I know Luther believes you took it.’ He let out an exasperated sigh. ‘I’m sorry. I should’ve have confessed instead you took blame for me….’

Wrapping his fist around it he continued, voice getting harsher. ‘I …I just couldn’t you know? After all he did to us? How he treated us? We were just kids!’

He clutched it tighter shattering the glass. ‘He was gone. This was the most valuable things he had- never let it out of his sight….so I thought that this….that by taking this, it would be the closest thing in ever hurting him.’

‘Oh Diego…’ You didn’t know how to comfort someone who is going through the same scenario, a same situation that you yourself need help on.  ‘Dad is gone and…yes he wasn’t the most caring father. But the past is in the past, the only thing we can do now to move forward. Don’t let that define us. Strive to do better.’

‘We tried that once remember? And where did it get us?’ He countered.

‘Better than if we were to have stayed.’ You rebutted. ‘C’mon Diegs. Think about mom. Think about how she constantly reminds us to put our best foot forward, no matter what life throws at us..’

Diego’s face softens, he was always a momma’s boy.

Closing his eyes, he mutters an okay. Then he tosses the bloody cracked monocle into the water. ‘Now, why don’t we go stuff our faces full of donuts.’ You offered. ‘I can handle your typical brooding self but the 2 of us sulking? No can do, what we need is to eat our feelings.’

‘Giddy’s it is.’ Replied Diego, offering you his arm.

‘So I assume you parked 2 blocks from here?’

His eyes went wide. ‘How’d you-‘

‘PPPPlease!’ Rolling your eyes. ‘I might have subconsciously wander to this part of town, but I was conscious about a car not so subtly tailing me for 6 blocks.’

‘So you knew I was watching you from the very beginning.’

‘YUPPPP’ Popping the p. ‘At first I wasn’t sure who- nice car by the way, new?

‘A month ago.’

‘Anyway is wasn’t until you started following on foot til I knew.’

Elaborating when you saw his confused look. ‘You walk as if you’re the protagonist in an action film.’

‘I do not!’ He said defensively.

‘DO too!- Thanks.’ Settling down onto the passenger seat as Diego closed the door.

The debate lasted until you reach Giddy’s or so what was left of the store.

‘WHAT THE-‘

END OF PART 4

READ: [PART 1]   [PART 2] [PART 3]

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Would love to hear your opinion on the series so far too!

 -Posting this a 2nd time, cause the 1st Tumblr error-ed out and deleted it.

also a bit of self plug here, i have a writing challenge going on and I’d love for you to join!

#the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves #tua #the umbrella academy imagines #the umbrella academy imagine #luther hargreeves #Allison Hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #luther hargreeves x reader #allison hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #vanya hargreeves x reader #fandomscombine writes

[snelbz]

The Ranch {7}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: We are absolutely blown away by how much y’all enjoy this story. We’ve loved writing it for you and we get just as excited for a new chapter as y’all do! Enjoy. xx

The Ranch Masterlist

Nesta hated going to school.

She felt so overwhelmed, so crowded, so completely lost in the sea of people that filled the halls of Velaris High School. Elain and Feyre had always found their place within those halls fairly quickly, absolutely, but Nesta floated. She went from one class to the next, sticking her nose in a book every chance she got. She didn’t make friends. Didn’t have acquaintances.

She did have one go-to, but he didn’t go to VHS. He was in the next town over. 

Tomas Mandray.

As soon as she sat down at her desk in algebra, she pulled out her phone. She had three missed messages.

10:31 - Hey. I’m planning on picking you up later. 

10:42 - We could stay in, if you want. (;

10:56 - I’ll be out of town this weekend, so spend time with me now.

At first, Nesta almost didn’t reply, but then she typed back, I’ll be ready at 7.

She hated that she loved Tomas Mandray. 

———

At seven o’clock on the dot, there was a knock on the front door of the house.

“That's Tomas, I’ll be home later!” Nesta hollered, trying to get out of the house before her father could drag her boyfriend into another conversation about the merits of a lightweight rope versus one with more snap.

“Hold on just a minute!” Isaac called, coming from the kitchen. “That boy is headed to Guthrie this weekend.” Nesta groaned as she pulled open the door and her father practically yanked him through the threshold. “You planning on bringing home a buckle?”

“Yes, sir,” Tomas smiled, shaking his hand. “Always.”

Isaac nodded and said, “Damn straight, I remember my trip to the National Championship, granted, I rode Broncs, mind you, but-.”

“Dad, we have to go. We have reservations,” Nesta coolly lied. “I’ll be home around 10:30.”

Her father waved her comments off. “Nah, don’t worry about a curfew tonight.” He rested his hands on Tomas’ shoulders. “It’s not everyday your future son-in-law makes it to the National Junior Rodeo Championship.”

Nesta’s cheeks burned. “Right. Well, we really have to go.”

She was hurrying out the door, dragging Tomas by the hand as she did so.

“Good to see you, Mr. Archeron!” Tomas called, as Nesta shut the front door behind them. “I like talking to your dad.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t,” Nesta said. She hated when Isaac talked to Tomas. He was so certain that he and Nesta would be together forever, and the thought often made her sick to her stomach yet hopeful at the same time. It was a strange combination. 

She climbed up into the passenger side of Tomas’s truck and leaned back as he took off. 

“I missed you.”

Nesta nodded. “You, too.”

He reached across the middle of the seat and took her hand. “So, will you be coming to watch me this weekend? It’s the National-”

“-Junior Rodeo Championship, yeah, I know,” she finished.

“Damn, what’s stuck up your ass?” he muttered.

“Nothing,” Nesta sighed. “I wish we could, but dad says we have two couples staying the whole weekend.”

As much as she hated to admit it, she was almost relieved when her father told her that a group of friends had booked the weekend last minute. The last thing she wanted to deal were the buckle bunnies in training that followed the rodeos around. She wouldn’t have to deal with the cheap beer and the greasy food and tobacco spit and the blood and sweat and (usually) tears.

His thumb rubbed a circle into the back of her hand. “Well, maybe just you could come. You could leave with me after lunch tomorrow. You know your dad would sign you out.”

She shook her head. “I can’t, they need me to cook for the guests.”

It was true. No one else in the house had an ounce of culinary ability, and it just so happened to be Nesta’s favorite thing in the world.

Tomas frowned. “No one else can cook for the guests?”

Nesta shook her head. “None as good as me. Besides, I love cooking.”

“Cooking is a stupid thing to love,” Tomas said, and Nesta stilled. “Why cook when you can come watch me win a national title?” 

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have an answer that would please him. 

“Besides, after we graduate, you’ll be coming with me on the road all the time,” he went on. “May as well get used to it now.”

“I’m not sure I want to go on the road all the time,” Nesta said. “You know it’s my dream to open my own restaurant, I can’t really do that if I’m travelling with you.”

Tomas shook his head, laughing quietly. “Come on, Nes.”

“Come on, what?” She asked, turning to look at him. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Is my dream not as important as yours?”

“Of course not, that’s not what I’m trying to say, babe. It’s just,” he reached over and skimmed his knuckles across her cheekbone. “If you stay here and open a restaurant, and I go pro, we’re never going to see each other.” They came to a stop at a red light. He turned to her. “I love you. Don’t you love me?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Of course, I do.”

“Then you need to come with me. So we can be together. Promise me you’ll think about it.”

Nesta only nodded, agreeing that yes, she would think about it, but she already knew it wouldn’t happen. She wasn’t made for the rodeo life.

Just like her mother hadn’t been.

It was because of her mother that they even had the ranch, because she loved Nesta’s father, but didn’t love the city to city, night to night lifestyle he lived in the professional rodeo circuit. So after they got married, and Nesta was on her way, her mother had convinced Isaac to hang up his ropes and buy the ranch. And he’d loved it.

And it worked for them, Nesta’s parents. Isaac found his love in ranching, they got to be together and raise their girls. But Tomas would never be that. He was too hard headed, too stuck in the rodeo life. He loved it, and Nesta had to admire that, but she didn’t have to give up her dreams for that admiration. 

She was going to become a chef.

She was going to stay put, in the city, or maybe go somewhere like Paris or Barcelona or Tokyo. All she knew was that the last place she wanted to be was stuck in a truck, driving from city to city for the fucking rodeo.

She just didn’t know how to tell Tomas that, because Tomas never accepted an answer that wasn’t the one he wanted to hear.

Nesta was so caught up in her own thoughts that it took her nearly fifteen minutes to realize they weren’t on the way to the restaurant. But it took her only a few seconds later to realize where they were going. “Tomas, please, not tonight. We can’t have one night without it?”

He gestured to the arena. “It’s a round robin, babe. I’ll run eight head max and walk out of here seven hundred dollars richer.” Nesta only rolled her eyes and looked out the window. He went on, “Plus, I heard from Beron there will be sponsors here tonight. Granted, they’re here for some big headed jock from VHS, but once they see me, he won’t matter.”

Nesta stopped listening, but subconsciously, she knew that Tomas talked until they parked.

“You don’t even have your horse,” she said, as a last ditch effort. She knew this fact hadn’t somehow escaped him, but she didn’t understand what he was hoping to accomplish by being here without Rain.

“Oh, I’m buying one,” he laughed, as if that was such a minor thing to forget. “Yeah, that’s the whole reason we’re here. So, I can test out this horse. If she’s got some crack to her, I’m not putting a national championship on the line.”

Nesta couldn’t believe him. He’d taken their last night home together and hijacked it.

Pulling into the dirt lot, Nesta breathed a heavy sigh. Tomas hopped out of the truck and reached into the backseat, grabbing a beer out of the cooler and popping the top. She laughed  incredulously. “Are you serious?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you something, too,” he smirked, lifting the wine coolers out of the ice. She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t that she was looking to drink, too. It was that, once again, she’d been overshadowed by roping. “Come on, I gotta go warm that horse up.”

“I’ll be right there,” Nesta said, pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialing her sister’s number. “I need to ask Elain something real quick.”

“Alright, well, hurry up,” he said, smacking the roof of the truck. “I want you to get some video of me I can post.”

Grinding her teeth, she nodded, and put the phone to her ear. Tomas shut the door and Nesta lowered the phone back to her lap, never even having pressed the call button. She looked out the truck window, out over the fields, that rolled on and on, and just saw...nothingness.

Without thinking about it, Nesta hopped out of the truck, threw her purse over her shoulder and began walking towards the road.

The rustic back roads of Velaris weren’t lit with street lamps, so she pulled her phone out and used it as a flashlight. After about fifteen minutes of walking, her phone died and she was left in the dark.

An older truck, heading in the direction of the arena, stopped when they saw her walking along the side of the road. An unfamiliar voice called out, “Hey, are you okay?”

She didn’t answer.

“Miss? Do you need a ride?”

She kept walking and ignored the  truck, passing it and disappearing into the darkness.

———— 

At quarter after midnight, Nesta finally walked up the worn wooden steps of the ranch house. Her phone had been dead for hours and by the time she reached the city, she knew her family would be asleep.

She wondered if Tomas had noticed her absence. She wondered if he’d tried to call her.

She unlocked the front door and crept in, trying to miss the creaking board by the living room doorway.

“That you, Nes?”

She sighed, hoping he wouldn’t come into the foyer, where she stood with one door already on the first step. “Yeah, dad.”

He groaned as he sat up on the couch. “Tomas with you?”

She swallowed heavily. “No, sir.” She started to ascend the steps. She looked like shit, he couldn’t see her like this, covered in dust and who knows what else. She didn’t want to tell him what happened, didn’t want to deal with him telling her that Tomas was the best thing to ever happen to her. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

She hurried up the stairs and shut her door with a soft click.

Begging herself not to cry, she slipped off her clothes and slipped into a cozy pair of sweatpants and a tank top. She should take a shower, but she didn’t want to wake her sisters by turning it on. So, instead, she trudged across the hall, into the bathroom, and wiped herself off with a wet cloth.

All she had wanted was one thing: to go to a nice dinner with her boyfriend. Instead, she was left alone for the night in a place that she hated, expected to cheer Tomas on in a sport, in an environment, she couldn’t care less for. 

And Tomas didn’t even seem to care or notice. At least now she would get a weekend alone, a weekend spent in the kitchen, a weekend creating dishes that people would praise her for. And it wasn’t that Nesta needed the praise, but when her world revolved around Tomas’s accomplishments, it was nice to be the one appreciated for once.

When her phone finally booted up, she didn’t have a single text from Tomas.

—————

Friday went by pretty uneventfully. She was exhausted, yes, but she was mostly distracted by the fact that Tomas hadn’t responded to her text message that morning.

She had bumped into someone in the halls, between economics and chemistry, and after she’d apologized, he’d stopped her and asked if she was alright. His hazel eyes were bright and his voice was kind. She’d given him a quick nod and gone on her way.

After school, she went straight to the store, gathering ingredients for delicious baked goods and savory recipes she’d been dying to try. Just as she was getting into a good mood, excited to bake for hours on end, she got home, and that mood went straight to hell.

“We’re going to surprise Tomas.”

She had just set her bags down on the kitchen counter when she froze, her father’s words making her smile fade into nothingness. “What?”

“I’ll drive you down, go pack,” he said, waiting for her to be grateful. “Tomas wanted you to go so badly, and I know you want to be there to support him. So, I worked it out, bought tickets, booked a room….Come on, Nesta, take a little roadtrip with your dear old dad to support your boyfriend.” 

Nesta frowned. “I- I can’t. I just bought all of this to make for the guests-.”

“I called your aunt to come stay with your sisters and take care of the guests,” Isaac replied, beaming. “Come on, Nesta. This could be life changing for him, which means it could be life changing for you. You want to be there, don’t you?”

No, she thought, she absolutely did not want to be there.

She was fairly sure, if Tomas lack of communication was any indication, that he didn’t want her there either.

“I can’t, dad,” she said, grasping for any chance to get out of this. “I’ve got a final paper due on Monday and I haven’t even started it.”

“You can work on it in the truck,” he replied, packing a cooler with the essentials - beer, of course - and patting the top of it when he flipped the lid closed. “Now, go pack. If we want to see the numbers ceremony, we have to leave before four.” He hefted the cooler up, and was out the backdoor, going to load it in the back of the truck.

Nesta sighed, knowing that her father was just as hard headed as she was. She wasn’t going to win this battle.

She dialed Tomas number one more time, seeing the other three times she’d tried to call him, unsuccessfully, and listened to it ring. When the voicemail started, she said, “Hey, it’s me. We need to talk about last night and I- I need to talk to you. Can you call me, please? I love you.”

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

It was a four hour drive to Guthrie, Oklahoma. Four hours to sit on her phone and scroll through her timeline. Four hours for her dad to listen to shitty music and act like this was a fun, little trip they were taking. Four hours to flip through recipe boards and save things she wanted to try next. Four hours to call Tomas with no answer on the other line.

Nesta couldn’t even lie to herself and pretend something had happened, couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t getting her texts or calls. He was still posting on Facebook, still sharing pictures he found funny, still going about like nothing was wrong.

And then, with a little less than an hour left in their silent drive, they blew a tire.

For the first time since they began their journey, Isaac’s smile faltered. They pulled onto the side of the road and Isaac turned off the engine. Nesta still had her bare feet up on the dash, still was scrolling through her phone when Isaac got out of the truck.

He was muttering something under his breath but Nesta didn’t pay him any mind. She was too bitter that she was there to begin with.

Maybe they wouldn’t have a spare and they’d be stuck there for the entirety of the weekend. With any luck, they would have to call Elain to come and get them and take Nesta back home.

That hope faded when Isaac pulled a tire out of the back.

The tire was changed, the flat caused by a deep gash from a nail they hit along the road at some point, and they were back on their way. It cost them nearly two hours, though, and by the time they pulled into the skeezy motel her father had booked a room in, the first night of the rodeo was all but done.

Isaac kept apologizing, saying they’d get to the arena early the next morning, that was she could find Tomas before everything began. Nesta wasn’t stupid though, she knew her dad’s old roping buddies were all here, all with their sons or daughters, if there were here for breakaway or to run barrels. She was sure he was excited to tell them that the up and coming Tomas Mandray was his soon-to-be son-in-law. Or so he thought.

The last thing she heard him say before he fall asleep was, “Man, I can’t wait to see his face.”

Yeah, she thought. Me either.

She didn’t sleep at all that night and when morning came she was completely exhausted. On top of that looming exhaustion, she felt nauseated at the thought of Tomas seeing her. She had called him once more before she’d “gone to sleep” the night before but got his voicemail, once again.

As Nesta hopped into the truck with Isaac, she thought she was going to puke all over the floorboards. Her father was so excited at being back at the rodeo that he didn’t even notice his firstborn's silence or discomfort.

Nesta hated him for that, hated him for not noticing, for not listening.

She hated him for forcing her to be here, for forcing her into this life, just like he had her mother.

Tomas was just like her father.

And her? She was just like her mother.

Two people who were attracted to one another but shouldn’t have a future together, because that future would be shit, no matter how hard they tried.

By the time Isaac parked their truck, Nesta was paralyzed. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could hardly breathe.

Perhaps she should be the bigger person. She should go and find him, apologize, and tell him good luck. But even though that’s what she should do, the thought had her hands shaking at her sides.

You can do this, don’t be an idiot, she told herself. She should consider herself lucky. At seventeen, she had found someone who loved her.

At least, he told her he did.

Until he got pissed and stopped answering her calls.

“Coming, Nesta?” Isaac asked, grin wide, tapping on her window. He was ready to go dwell in his safe haven. Nesta had to follow him. She was his excuse to be there, after all.

She nodded, and took a deep breath before opening the passenger side door and hauling herself out.

Nesta and her father gave their tickets to the man at the door and walked in. Isaac stopped and stood there, breathing it all in.

All Nesta could smell was horse shit.

“Isaac Archeron, you son of a bitch, what are you doing here?”

With that one sentence, her father was whisked away, into conversations with his old rodeo friends, seeing people he hadn’t seen since before Nesta was ever even thought of. And she was on her own.

Nesta sat down in the stands. She fiddled with her phone, not wanting to scroll through Instagram for the fiftieth time that day, but having nothing better to do.

Until her phone rang.

His name flashed up on her screen. She’d been trying to get in touch with him for three days, yet now that he was calling her back, she couldn’t make her hands work, couldn’t remember how to swipe her finger across the call to answer the phone.

She answered, but her voice was hesitant as she said, “Hello?”

“Nes? Hey, sorry, my phone hasn’t been working.”

Bullshit bullshit bullshit.

“It’s okay,” she lied. She stood, walking down the bleachers and looked towards the entrance. Her father was still where she’d left him, telling war stories and talking about the good ole days. She could see the stables behind a tarp with the rodeo association's name on it. She asked, “Are you warming Rain up?”

“Nah, he’s good to go. I got a ride in this morning. Just getting him brushed down.”

He hasn’t said a single word about her leaving the other night. Had he not noticed? Was she that insignificant that he hadn't even realized she was gone?

“Well that’s good.” She sighed. “Can we talk for a-?”

He cut her off. “Hey, babe, I gotta get going. Wish me luck?”

“Oh, I- Okay. Good luck,” she said. “I love you.”

“Yeah, you, too,” he said, already pulling the phone from his face. “Bye.”

Nesta stood still as the line went dead. With a deep sigh, she shoved her phone into her pocket. He must be getting ready to make his debut for the day, maybe she would be able to catch him, surprise him, before he went. 

He wanted her to wish him luck.

Maybe she would, if only she could catch him in time.

She wandered around the bleachers, dodging people who looked like they lived and breathed watching underage rodeo championships. 

She had never seen so much hype. The rodeo was somewhere she hoped to dodge as often as possible even though, obviously, she wasn’t always blessed enough to do so. 

Either way, she continued on her journey to finding Tomas, but she came up short.

Looking down at her tennis shoes, which were covered in dust and dirt, she scolded herself for not packing different shoes. Not only were her sneakers filthy but her feet hurt like shit from all the walking. 

Another name was called to get on deck, but she didn’t hear Tomas’, so she went on her way. Maybe he was off somewhere trying to clear his head.

With that thought, she went around to the back of the bleachers, where trucks and trailers were lined up. She passed people laughing and celebrating in deep conversation, but they all ignored her, thankfully.

She turned the corner at the end of the row, though, and froze.

She had found Tomas, but he wasn’t getting ready.

At least, he wasn’t getting ready alone.

His lips were stuck to a girl’s neck, whose head was thrown back, her eyes closed. He was palming her breast beneath her tied up flannel shirt. 

Nesta tried to say something, but she had once again been paralyzed, frozen in place.

“‘Scuse me, ma’am.” An older man leading a horse stepped around her, and the horse whinnied as it passed.

The sound got Tomas’ attention.

His eyes went wide as he saw her standing there, in the doorway to the stables. He blinked a few times, and the girl didn’t realize their fun was over. Her hands roved over his body and she kissed his neck. Nesta began to shake her head and walk away.

“Ne- Nesta, wait!”

She turned and it took everything in her not to break into a run. She wanted to leave. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to scream.

She wanted to cry.

Her entire future, that stupid future she was dreading so much, but the only plan she’d ever had… it was gone.

“Baby!” His voice was much closer than it had been and his hand closed around her wrist. “Baby! Baby, baby, baby. Hey, it’s not what it looks like.”

Her voice was small, but she said, “Get your hands off of me.”

He didn’t. Instead he gripped her shoulders and said, “Whatever you thought you just saw, I promise you’re wrong.”

“It’s a little hard to misinterpret that,” Nesta snapped, snatching her wrist free. “You ignored my calls. Made me feel like shit for the other night. And while I was feeling like shit...you were getting….” Nesta’s words trailed off, and she laughed, loudly, humorlessly. “Fuck off, Tom.” 

“Hey,” he begged, brushing her hair back, the hair that had come undone from her ponytail. “Don’t do this.”

Nesta hated herself for crying in front of him, for shaking her head, for taking a step back. “It’s over. I never want to see you….never want to see you again.”

Her voice broke, and that only made the pitiful scene worse.

Nesta Archeron walked away from Tomas Mandray, and she never wanted to look back.

#the ranch nessian #shara collab #tacmc x throne of ashes and beauty #toab tacmc collab #tacmc toab tag team #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian

[floandroid]

RDR2 Imagines (with a Modern!Reader + the gang)

I’ve always wanted to type up my own! So here are some that I’ve thought up of + I always liked the idea of Modern! Readers interacting with the gang. If this is something you’re not comfortable with stuff like feel free to block the tag  #rdr2 inserts (which i’ll be using!) 

Now onwards with the imagines!

CW : Swearing and mentions of alcohol. Everything will be under the cut. It can get pretty long too :( 

If you guys liked this lmk if I should make part 2

How you got there was a big fat ole accident. However you got there is up to you. Did you fall through a crack in time? Went backwards in history? Somehow got sucked into the game? Who knows but whoever is doing this is having a fun time fucking with you. They find you when they were about to go down from Colter and head to warmer country. Cold, shivering and a confused mess and terribly scared. 

Some of the members were opposed to bring you up with them but Dutch waves it off and takes you with them to Horseshoe Overlook. 

You’ve got members who were suspicious of you, sure. But you quickly warmed up to the women of the camp when you started doing the chores without being told to. Miss Grimshaw sorta likes you! And Jack was a tad bit cautious of you but when you agreed to play with him a bit he started to hang around you. Treats you like an older sibling 

There are some nights where you tell him some stories. A lot of them you lifted from T.V shows and movies and some books (’Hey Jack, want me to tell you about the story of The Little Prince or The Giving Tree?’)

It took a while for the male members of the gang to actually start hanging around with you but Lenny was the first one who took time to talk to you and listened to each others ramblings. After that, it was smooth sailing from there (well maybe except for Micah and Bill)

One night you decided to tell them a horror story around the campfire, specifically this story. It took a while for some of the members of the camp to connect the dots and understand it, but once they do : they shudder in fear a bit The last one who understood it was Sean who jolted up from his bedroll and went to find you to say that it gave him the heebiejeebies. From here on out, if they wanted a good scare they’d go and find you and you’d tell them stories. (’Hey guys wanna hear about the story of Ju On The Grudge or the Mothman lol’) 

Speaking of lifting things from the future; they once asked you to sing a song for them. Somewhere deep in you, you wanted to sing Britney Spears but you settled with something like Stand By Me or Tainted Love. You’d sing them Gimme More some other time. 

You’d catch yourself humming some songs and Javier would pop up and ask you what you were singing and you shyly reply you were singing a song your grandmother taught you (No way you’d tell him you were humming Motivation)

Ngl, you use a lot of slang + references around them. Arthur once offered to teach you how to shoot a gun and a moving target and when the bullet hits the targets you said poggers. A drunk camp member stumbles upon your tent when you’re eating quietly and starts to overshare? Sir this is a Wendy’s. John, Arthur or any of the boys off to rob a train or leave the camp for a while? See you, space cowboy.

One night particularly, you were with Arthur, John, Hosea and Lenny having a drink (and you had too much you had to admit) you said ‘If I am killed by some murderer. Do not  PROSECUTE THAT MURDER. Because he CAUGHT ME SLIPPING. That is ON ME. And I went out a G’. Did they understand it? Barely. But they were laughing. 

Robbing stagecoaches with them was fun though, they often used you as a distraction. Lost traveler in the forest? person in distress? You name it. You were good at playing the victim and if you’re bilingual, they’ll ask you to use your mother tongue to fuck with the drivers or the passengers.

Sometimes you’d miss modern conveniences. Late night trips to the 7/11 to buy some junk food or some sodas. Fast food runs or just wanting to drink some boba tea :( I mean they had coke during this era but you don’t want cocaine in your system. Technically, you could make some milk tea, but minus the pearls. Arthur once caught you crying behind the wagon and when he asked you what’s wrong and you tearfully tell him that the general store didn’t have chicken nuggets :(

Dutch tries to talk philosophy and morals with you! And using what bits and pieces you learned from the internet, you guys get into a pretty heated debate. Hosea watches in amusement from the corner and sometimes gets into it too!

The day comes where you had to learn how to ride a horse. You couldn’t always rely on someone else in the camp to hitch a ride with. Arthur volunteered. Went out to catch a horse for you and broke it himself. He rides back with it and then asks you to name it. ‘Yeah, I’m naming him Dog’ he looks at you funny ‘Huh alright’

You have days where you’d volunteer to cook. Imagine having to make chicken nuggets from scratch for at least 20+ people. But you succeed! You’d have Chicken Nugget Fridays and Jack is always the first one who gets the first serving 

All in all, you adjusted a little well to the gang! But there were times you’d have a breakdown and miss your own era/universe.  Everyone in the camp though treated you like family, so not too bad. Maybe.

#UUGHHH ID LIST MORE BUT IM LAZY #rdr2 #rdr2 imagine #rdr2 x reader #van der linde gang #rdr2 inserts #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #lenny summers #hosea matthews #john marston #dutch van der linde #javier escuella #my shit #rdr2 headcanons #arthur morgan x reader

[softhotch]

Corset

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,469

Warnings: Subby!Hotch in a corset? Show-level violence. Age-gap. Basically just lots of crack with some comforting fluff!

Summary: An unsub gives Hotch an ultimatum: wear lingerie during a press conference or the victim dies. Reader does what she can to comfort the very uncomfortable Unit Chief. Heavily inspired by this scene in Psycho Beach Party where TG wears a corset.

Author’s Note: Please be nice! I haven’t written anything in AGES and this popped into my brain unannounced yesterday when I happened upon that scene from PBP. I hope you like it! There may or may not be a sequel with smut. I haven’t decided yet. Also feel free to let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any future Hotch fics.

Four days ago you and the rest of the BAU had boarded the jet on your way to Memphis where the bodies of three once beautiful women had been discovered assaulted, disfigured, and killed. In the time that you’d been there, the team had had few leads. However, a break in the case came when a woman named Shannon Holloway was abducted. 

Thanks to Garcia’s digging, the team learned that the victim had filed a protective order against her neighbor the year before, one Edward Bayless, a hapless janitor at the local university who had been bullied and disfigured as a child by his abusive alpha male father. When his father had passed away the year before, the murders started.

However, when the BAU and SWAT arrived at Bayless’ home, Shannon was nowhere to be found. When they hauled him in for questioning, he announced that she was still alive but didn’t have long to live. After being interrogated for hours, Bayless finally agreed to release her location...on one condition.

“Is he really going to do it?” Morgan asked, slumping into a chair at the conference table in the local precinct. 

“He doesn’t really have a choice, Morgan. Besides, you know Hotch. If there’s any chance to save the victim, he’ll take it,” JJ replied.

“Edward Bayless is a classic beta male. It makes sense that he would want to humiliate Hotch as much as possible. Bayless hates authority figures and Hotch is the embodiment of that,” Reid explained. 

While the rest of the team discussed the current unsub, you made your way to the restroom door and knocked softly.

“Hotch? Everything okay in there?” You became worried when there was no response. You knocked again and said, “Hotch, I’m coming in. I just wanna talk.”

You entered the men’s room and made your way to the handicapped stall on the end. Leaning against the cold concrete wall, you said softly, “are you okay?”

He didn’t respond at first but then you heard a deep, shaky sigh. “I’m as well as can be expected, I suppose. Can’t say this is how I thought today would go.” 

His voice was quiet and strained. You could practically hear him mentally weighing the pros and cons. JJ was right though. If this was the only way to save the victim, Hotch would do it, no matter how humiliating.

You tried to think of something to say to make him feel better but before you could, he was unlatching the stall door and stepping out. 

You sucked in a breath at the sight of him. He was gorgeous, of course. You’d known that since the first time you’d met. You momentarily flashed back to your initial interview where he’d sat sizing you up from the other side of his desk while you tried not fidget over how attractive the Unit Chief was. You were positive you’d never seen anyone look that good in a suit before. Once you joined the team it hadn’t taken you long to fall for the rest of him - his selflessness, his intelligence, his bravery. 

With him standing in front of you now, looking as self-conscious as you’d ever seen him, your gaze moved down his body slowly, taking in the black corset, black panties, garter belt, and thigh highs. Hotch had legs for days. Who knew? Like on that first day, you had to consciously school your micro-expressions into a poker face so he wouldn’t realize that you harbored an inappropriate crush on him.

You gazed at his face and saw the trepidation he felt. “You look...great,” you said, breathless and hesitant. 

Hotch rolled his eyes and reached into the stall to grab a white, fluffy robe off the hook. “You don’t have to try to make me feel better. I know I look ridiculous.” 

You scoffed, growing bolder with every second, “I’m not just saying that, Sir. You look...” You trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence. The more you looked at him, his rosy nipples peaking out over the top of the corset and his happy trail leading down, down, down…

You gulped and your eyes shot back up to his face. Too late. Hotch had an incredulous look on his face, one eyebrow raised. You realized how you must have looked to him. Your breathing was a bit ragged and your pupils were definitely dilated. You might as well have had Horny For Hotch emblazoned across your forehead. 

“I - I...uh,” you stuttered before taking a deep breath and saying, “I just think this look is very...becoming of you, Sir.” Because your brain is a traitor, an image of him bent over his own desk popped into your head and your cheeks heated up. 

Hotch wrapped the bathrobe around himself and cinched the belt tight while maintaining eye contact with you. The look on his face was almost shy, “Do you really think so?” The soft way in which he looked at you made your breath catch. In the two years you’d been with the BAU, you had never seen him like this. His hesitation gave you the confidence you needed.

“To be honest, Sir, I always think you look good. But there’s just something special about a strong, dominant man wearing such delicate clothes.”

Hotch studied your face for a moment, his own expression neutral, and said, “Edward Bayless hopes that doing a press conference in this outfit will humiliate and emasculate me. Is that what you want as well?”

“Of course not,” you replied, vehemently, moving closer to him. “It makes me want to take care of you.” 

You found the surprised look on his face endearing and it spurred you on, “You take care of all of us all the time, Hotch, but who takes care of you? And of course someone like Edward Bayless would believe that it would be that easy to demean you. He believes that kidnapping and torturing beautiful women will make him the strong Alpha male type that he’s always idolized, yet hated. You, on the other hand, already know you’re strong. If anything this outfit serves to highlight that. You’re going to march into that press conference like the badass you are and show Bayless that it doesn’t matter what you wear because at the end of the day you’re a hero and no one can take that away from you.” 

You would have gladly kept the pep talk ramble going but you were interrupted by Hotch leaning down and pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to your lips. 

Hotch broke the kiss and reached his hand up to cup the side of your face. You nuzzled into his touch affectionately. “I don’t need to tell you that anything between us would be inappropriate,” he said quietly. “I’m your supervisor and twenty years your senior. Most people would find the idea of a relationship between us improper, to say the least. But I can’t deny that I’ve always found you very...sweet.” He ran his thumb back and forth across your cheek. You’d always been attracted to the size of his hands.

“I mean it, Hotch. I want to be the one to take care of you. Have you ever had someone do that for you?”

“Do you mean have I ever been submissive with someone before? No. In my experience, people tend to expect someone like me to be dominant all the time. Haley and I never really experimented much.” There was a blush creeping up his neck below the collar of the robe. You could tell this wasn’t a conversation he ever expected to have, let alone now, with you.

“Well, that sort of thing is all about trust, Hotch. I hope you know that you can trust me with anything.”

“Thank you, Agent,” he said, fidgeting adorably with the belt of his robe. “I find that I feel very safe with you.”

Feeling brazen, you surged forward to give him one last kiss but you were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. 

“Aaron, the reporters are ready,” Rossi announced from the other side of the door. 

Hotch inhaled deeply, steeling himself. You took one of his hands in yours and said, “Hey, you’ve got this, Hotch. If you get nervous, just look at me. I know you can do this.” You gave him one last quick kiss on the cheek and guided him slowly towards the door.

He paused and looked down at you. “Please,” he whispered, “call me Aaron.” With that, he placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles before letting go. He turned and marched through the door with his head held high as you trailed behind him, your hand hovering over the small of his back, still tingling from the feel of his lips.

Tags - @whoreforhotch

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #subby hotch #soft hotch

[elementalwriter67]

The Void Chapter Ten

Pairings: (eventual) Jason Todd x Reader

Word Count: 3308

Tag list: @wittedhat @clea-nightingale @grey-water-colors @reclusive-chicken-nugget @undertheredhood 

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7a, 7b, 8, 9

Summary: The Void is a hellish place filled with screams that echoed throughout the place at all the hours of the night, and where pain is a very close friend. You’ve spent your entire life in the Void, having been there since you were ten and you’ve just recently gotten a new cellmate… Who’s a little more hopeful than you are that either of you are going to make it out of this place alive. Though you have to admit that maybe his hope is rubbing off on you because you slowly find yourself hoping that the two of you do get out of here.

“Selina? What are you doing here?” Dick asked as him and Roy walked up the stairs to the upper layer of the Batcave where Selina was standing with the others around the Batcomputer. 

“I ran into Bruce when he was going to investigate Falcone, he filled me in on what’s been going on.” Selina’s voice tense as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Do you know about the Void?” Roy asked and Selina nodded. 

“Course I do, every villain in Gotham knows about the Void and they were people that I was hoping you would never have to deal with, yet here we are.” She said the tenseness leaving her voice and being replaced with a bitter resentment as she looked towards the screen where Tim was messing around with video feeds. 

“Did you two find the van that matches the tire tracks at the hospital?” Tim asked, interrupting whatever conversation they could have continued to have. 

“Yep, we got the picture of the licence place like you asked.” Dick said as he pulled out his phone. Tim snatched it out of his hand and tapped at the screen a couple of times before handing it back to Dick. 

“Alright, cool, do you want to tell me what that was all about or what?” Dick asked, looking between Tim and the others.

“Well after we got back from checking the Rich guys house, he was a serial killer by the way had a whole as torture room down in the basement really fucked up, Tim decided he was going to take another crack at the security cameras in the area. Turns out on his first look through he missed something.” Stephanie said from where she stood with her arms crossed over her chest and leaning against the computer. 

“What did he-”

“They were on a loop. All of the security feeds in a two block area either way out of that alleyway were on a minute long time loop.” Tim answered Roy’s question. Roy’s brow shot up as he looked at the feeds.

“How did we miss that on the first watch through? We practically invented the use of loops, how the hell did we miss that?” Roy muttered as he walked up to the batcomputer leaning against the keyboard as he watched the feeds.

“Right so while those two figure that out, what did the rest of you find?” Dick asked looking away from those two and towards the others.

“Penguin checked out. One of his guys was on the other side of the city getting rid of a body, we’ve notified the GCPD of the bodies location.” Damian told him crossing his arms over his chest he glanced over at the computer, Tim and Roy muttering to each other as they both worked on the feeds.

“Black Mask’s van was busy being used for an arms deal near Amusement Mile to some low level gang from Los Santos at the time of Jason’s kidnapping. We’ve already notified the LSPD that one of their gangs are buying weapons from Black Mask.” Kate said and Dick nodded.

“What about Falcone Bruce?” Dick asked as he looked towards Bruce who was watching Tim and Roy closely.

“Falcone at the time was busy making a business deal with me and all of his men were there as far as I know. But Falcone isn’t one to make deals with the Void, I’m still honestly surprised that Scarecrow made a deal with them in the first place usually we all try to avoid the Void at all costs.” Selina stated her brow furrowed slightly in confusion as she thought over it. 

“Guess they managed to make a deal with him that he couldn’t refuse.” Dick said and Selina hummed going to open her mouth to say something but before she could Tim spun around violently in the chair. 

“We got the original videos.” Tim stated before he swung back around to face the screen. 

“I’ll give this to the Void those fuckers are thorough as fuck. They buried the original video feeds so damn deep into the system that they’re almost impossible to find. Almost.” Roy said as he typed on the keyboard while Tim did something at the other end of the control panel for the computer. 

“If they’re so thorough, why bury the original feeds? Why not just delete them and be done with it?” Selina asked as she stepped up to the computer. 

“Oh they did, but because you can never truly delete something that’s on any form of online they had to bury any possible trace that they could have left.” Tim said as he slid back over towards Roy, who stepped out of the way letting him take back over.

“And because of that we’ve got traffic feeds of the van as it’s leaving the alleyway, a traffic feed that just so happens to contain the licence plate of the van.” Tim said as he forwarded the feeds to the exact moment where you can see the licence plate as the van was driving away. Tim zoomed in on the image, clearing it up to properly display the licence plate. 

“Are you-”

“Yes we’re running it through the Gotham city system right now, we’re just waiting for a hit.” Roy interrupted Barbara before she could finish and before anyone could say anything else the computer made a sound. 

“And those would be the results.” Tim muttered as he wheeled himself back over to the other side of the computer tapping a couple of buttons as the results popped up on the screen. And everyone’s shoulders slumped almost immediately at the sight of the results. 

“They don’t match.” Tim breathed out falling back in the chair as he stared up at the screen. 

“They don’t… they don’t… they don’t fucking match?! They don’t fucking match!” Roy shouted as he stared at the screen in complete and utter disbelief his jaw slack and eyes wide. 

“But… but… how?... How is that possible?! HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?” Dick shouted slamming his hands down on the computer making everyone jump. 

“I don’t get it! The tire tracks match the van, they match, so how the hell do the plates not match?” Tim asked as he started running it through the system again, only for it to come back a few moments later with the same results. 

“Maybe they switched the plates?” Barbara offered as she shoulder Roy out of the way and started typing on the computer running the picture of the licence plate through the general system instead of trying to compare the two. Just as they started working again a ding sounded from the computer and everyone stopped in their tracks as they stared at the message that appeared on the screen. 

“Tim.” Bruce stated taking a step towards the computer. 

“On it.” Tim said as he started typing everyone taking a step back from the keyboard so he could work properly.

~The Void~

~Dr. Roberts~

“Dr. Roberts! Dr. Roberts!” A guard shouted as he jogged down the hallway, pushing past nurses and other doctors as he tried to get to Dr. Roberts. 

“Give me one second please.” Dr. Roberts said to the nurse as he turned around an annoyed look on his face as he looked at the guard watching as he pushed passed as he finally reached the Doctor.

“This better be good Sanchez, I’m a little busy.” Dr. Roberts stated his voice firm and full of annoyance. The guard cleared his throat as he shifted his weight around. 

“It is sir. Security found a message that was sent out from one of our computers, and you’re gonna want to see this.” The guard said and Dr. Roberts brows furrowed.

“And why is that?” Dr. Roberts asked his tone cold and the guard cleared his throat again.

“Security traced the origin of the message back to the computer that Subject 314695 broke during his escape attempt.” The guard said and Dr. Roberts tensed as he stood up straighter. 

“We’ll continue our conversation later.” Dr. Roberts told the nurse as he started walking motioning for the guard to follow him down the hallway as they made their way towards the security room. People moved out of the way when they saw Dr. Roberts stalking his way down the hallway the guard having to jog to keep up with him. 

The entire security room fell silent as Dr. Roberts walked into the room, everyone turning to face him silently staring. 

“Well?! What the fuck does it say?!” Dr. Roberts shouted and everyone jumped into action.

“Over here sir!” The head of security called and Dr. Roberts made his way towards his desk. Leaning down against the desk Dr. Roberts eyes scanned over the message his face hardening as he stared at the screen rereading the message.

“Did this get out?” Dr. Roberts asked not looking away from the screen.

“No. He was able to get through the first firewall but the secondary one we put in place after he was grabbed managed to stop the message from getting out, barely. The wall took a massive hit apparently he had enough time to put a bug in the message that would eat through any other firewall that it came across.” The head of security stated and Dr. Roberts hmmed as he looked at the screen. 

“Did he know about the second firewall?” Dr. Roberts asked and the head of security shook his head. 

“No, we don’t think so. We’re guessing by the nature of this message he was attempting to reach his adopted father, the bug was meant strictly to get through that firewall judging by the quickly put together code. Our guess is that the message was meant to go through a backdoor in his security that would have been week enough for this coding to break through.” He said and Dr. Roberts nodded along with him a thoughtful look on his face as he stood up. Bringing his hand up he rubbed his chin while still staring at the screen, biting the inside of his lip as he thought. 

“Ok. Save me a copy of the message, bug and all I want everything that comes with this message saved on a flash drive and then transferred to me, once that’s done send the message to its original destination.” Dr. Roberts said. The head of security’s eyes widened as they looked up at Dr. Roberts like the man had suddenly grown two heads.

“What?” The guy asked and Dr. Roberts looked down at him with any annoyed look on his face.

“Did I stutter?” Dr. Roberts asked and the guy rapidly shook his head as he turned to face the screen, typing at the keyboard. 

“No, sir, it’s just that… are you sure that’s a good idea? This is most definitely being sent to Batman what if they manage to trace it back to us? What if they manage to find us?” The man asked and Dr. Roberts rolled his eyes. 

“They won’t and even if they do it doesn’t matter we’ll be able to handle it so don’t worry about it. So do what I asked you. Now.” Dr. Roberts ordered as he stalked away from the guys desk and paused at the door looking to the two guards standing there. 

“You two go get me subject 314695, now.” Dr. Roberts ordered as he walked out of the hall and towards the elevator the two guards jogging down the hallway in the other direction towards the stairs.

~Batcave~

“Well?” Dick asked as he stopped pacing the length of the room looking over to Tim, Barbra, and Roy who had stopped working the computer just seconds ago. 

“It’s clean. Came in through the back doorway, the one that Jason usually uses.” Tim said turning around to face Bruce in the chair and Bruce hmmed as he looked at the screen.

“Do you think it’s actually from Jason?” Bruce asked before any of the others could say anything and Tim was silent for a moment as he glanced over at Roy and Barbara who looked back at him before looking at Bruce.

“We think it’s a possibility.” Barbara stated her hands clasped together behind her back. 

“It is the same back door to your system that Jason always uses when he wants access to your computer, so it’s a pretty high possibility.” Roy added on and Bruce was silent for a moment everyone staring at him as they waited for him to respond. 

“Open it master Timothy.” Alfred finally commanded when Bruce didn’t say anything after a couple of minutes. Tim spun around and clicked on the message opening it up.

“B, it’s JRH. Nabbed by Void. Dr. Roberts.” Tim read aloud as he stared up at the screen rereading the message about five times before anyone said anything. 

“It's certainly from Jason that’s his short hand message technique. But how did he get a hold of a computer though to send the message?” Roy muttered as he reread the message trying to see if there was something hidden inside the message that might indicate something worse. 

“Maybe he got a hold of someone’s cellphone?” Dick offered up and Selina shook her head. 

“With how organized and careful they seem to be I doubt they would allow their people to have their phones on them when handling the people they captured, especially someone like Jason. Especially since they now know who we are, there’s no way they would let their people keep their phones.” Selina said watching as Dick began pacing again.

“It’s more likely that he tried to escape, and judging by the fact that he’s not currently walking through that door, it’s more than likely that he failed and there’s no telling what they do to people who fail in escaping.” Kate stated her arms crossed over her chest as she thought about all of this. 

“Tim find who this Dr. Roberts is, what hospital he belongs to. Whichever one he works for will be the one that the Void is at.” Bruce finally said and Tim nodded as he moved the message to another screen and started typing again.

“What makes you think it’s actually the hospital Bruce? The plates don’t match the van we found at the hospital or any plate that we have in our system, plus Dr. means nothing that could just be what-”

“Found him!” Tim called out interrupting Dick’s anxiety fueled rant and Dick froze mid stride looking over at Tim.

“You’re kidding right?” Dick asked and Tim shook his head pulling up the information that he had found.

“Dr. John Roberts is the Dean and chief of staff over at Central Gotham Medical Center, it’s one of the smaller hospitals in Gotham’s lower side.” Tim said as scrolled through the web page on the hospital.

“Alright. Dick, Tim, Damian I want you two to head out to check out the hospital see what we’re working with, more importantly see if you can find any indication that the Void is located in the hospital or has any connection the hospital to begin with.” Bruce said and the three of them nodded as they got up and made their way over to the armory before heading out. 

“The rest of us are going to work on coming up with a plan to infiltrate the hospital if this place really is connected to the Void then we’re going to need to be able to get into there without getting caught. They’ll be expecting us.” Bruce said as he walked over to the computer taking a seat as everyone started getting to work.

~The Void~

~Jason’s P.O.V~

Jason was sitting on the floor of your shared cell his back pressed against the wall  next to the head of your bed with one of his knees pulled up to his chest so that his arm could rest on top of it. He had his head tipped back so that he could stare up at the ceiling a small smile on his face as he replayed a memory inside his head. 

“I’m tellin ya (Y/N) you should have seen it I’ve never seen Alfred so mad at us before I swear I thought I saw my life flash before my eyes again.” Jason muttered with a small chuckled. He continued to stare up at the ceiling for a little bit remembering how the four of them had to sit through what had to have been four hours of lecturing for having had a paint ball war inside the batcave. Sighing he looked over at you the smile on his face turning bitter as he dropped his head down, properly looking at you.

“When you wake up maybe I’ll tell you this story again, so that way you’ll actually remember it.” Jason added on as he looked away from your face, watching as your heavily bandaged chest rose and fell for a couple of seconds before looking back at your face. He was silent for a couple more moments before sighing heavily again as he dropped his head and furiously scrubbed his hands through his hair. Dropping his head back against the wall he groaned heavily.

“Christ (Y/N), I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry. This is all my fault. If I had just waited like you said, or hell if I hadn’t decided to try this in the first place then none of this would have happened to you. If I had just been a little better then maybe we would be out of here, but we’re not and it’s all my fault and I’m so, so, sorry (y/N). You were the last person I wanted getting hurt in all of this.” Jason mumbled as he reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face. His heart clenched and his stomach twisted uncomfortably at the sight of the darkening bruises that littered your face and the twitch of your facial features when the tips of his fingers accidentally brushed against your black eye.

He had to make this up to you somehow, had to find a way to make this better, to show you that he was sorry about what happened, he had to do something, anything to show you he was sorry… Christ when had he gotten so attached to you? So concerned about what’s happened to you? Sure he thinks you deserve to get out of here because clearly you’ve been here and suffered more than anyone else here but there was no need for him to get this so attached especially since he knew so little about you. He’d never gotten this attached to anyone before, especially not someone he was trying to save and yet here he was caring far too much about you but not enough at the same time.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you never talked to me again, I know I deserve it for causing all of this but I just want you to know that-” Jason cut himself off as his gaze snapped to the door his body tensing as he saw the guards standing there. 

Gritting his teeth Jason pushed himself up on to his knees, ignoring the flaring of pain as he moved to a standing position. His hands balled into fist at his side as he stepped forward so that he was between you and the guards. He watched them s they opened the door, a sneer forming on Jason’s face and a barely suppressed growl growing in his chest as he glared at them. 

“Stay away from her.” Jason growled out and the guards shared a look before looking back at him. 

“Get him.” One of the guards ordered and they all moved forward at one.

Jason growled again and took a step forward fully intending on attacking the guards but he was easily subdued one guard grabbing each of his arms and pulling him back and away from you as they forced his arms behind his back. 

“No! No! You stay away from her you bastards! Stay away from her!” Jason shouted struggling against the guards even as they cuffed his hands behind his back. The three of them surprised at how much fight he still had in him despite the beating that he had gotten and the pain that he most certainly still feeling. 

“Oh, don’t worry. We’re not here for the little bitch. We’re here for you.” The first guard said and Jason’s brow furrowed as he stopped struggling and stared at the guard. 

“What?” He asked and the guard smirked before punching him in the stomach, knocking the breath out of him and causing his knees to give out on him as he gasped for air. 

“Get him out of here.” The guard said as he nodded towards the door and the other two guards nodded as they began to drag, Jason out of the cell the first guard following after them.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason x you #jason x reader #jason xy/n #jason todd x female reader #female reader #the void #batman #chapter ten #the void chapter ten #dick grayson #roy harper #damian wayne #x reader #dc comics imagine #jason todd imagines #dc comics au #x you #jason x female reader #it's short but at least it's something #the next chapter will maybe be longer

[bittysvalentines]

Take The Shot

From: @loveyoutoobits

To: @hockeydyke

Summary: Jack Zimmermann is the captain of the Providence Falconers. Following a win, his parents had decided to take him out to dinner, where Jack let his high from the win dictate how much to drink, for better or for worse. Eric Bittle, on the other hand, was working hard. A food critic's job is a lonely one sometimes, and the most interesting thing about this one was the man sitting only a few tables away. Their eyes meet, and the poor waitress working their tables would rather go home instead of take part in this mess.

 Rating: T                   Tags: alcohol consumption (legal)

This is halfway what you wanted, since it is partly a non-hockey AU. Even if one of them still plays hockey. Hope you enjoy!

Jack knew that he probably shouldn’t have asked for another glass. He was high off the win and a little past his comfortably tipsy level, meaning his inhibitions were slowly slipping away and he was likely to make a fool of himself.

Of course, it all started before his second glass, when he had spotted the cute blond man a few tables away who had looked a little sad surrounded by a couple plates of food. Their eyes had met, the blond man’s widening, and Jack had looked away first, hiding his blush behind his glass.

“Jack? Is something wrong?” Alicia had looked at him with a strange look. Jack shook his head in answer, but considering he was at least a little bit tipsy, he risked telling his parents anyways.

“No, nothing, but… <I just met eyes with that man, the sad one in the corner?> He slipped into French, hoping only his parents would be able to understand him.

<The blond one?> Bob easily followed his lead, having looked over his shoulder to see who it was Jack meant. The restaurant was pretty empty this late at night, so it wasn’t hard.

<Yeah.> Jack risked another glance at the man, but he had his gaze firmly back on his meal. How many dishes did he order, anyways?

<Christ Jack, you really do have a type.> Bob shook his head with a chuckle, and Jack was glad his cheeks were already flushed from the alcohol. <Why don’t you go talk to him?>

<No!> Jack’s voice rose unintentionally, and he grimaced apologetically at the other patrons who looked their way. To Jack’s embarrassment, the man in the corner looked over too, but his attention turned back to his phone. 

Jack took to a harsh whisper to make up for his small outburst, shooting his father a look. <No, papa, I will not go and talk to a complete stranger. That is a recipe for disaster.>

<Jack, don’t be so melodramatic. You’ve been out for years.>

<That’s not the point. What if he’s not--what if he doesn’t like men?> Jack took another sip of his drink. While it was just a deeper shade of tipsy, it certainly helped with the mortification he felt from this conversation. He wasn’t sure why he had opened his mouth at all. 

<What’s the point in never trying? You know, you miss 100% of the shots you never take, right?>

Jack rolled his eyes, a common phrase Bob had thrown his way in regards to everything: joining the NHL after his year off, coming out sooner rather than later. Pushing him towards anyone that caught Jack’s eye. The last one rarely worked.

<I think...> I need another drink.” Jack replied instead, and right on cue the waitress came back with a fresh glass. Jack wondered how she knew to come by, but he didn’t question it, as his last glass had finally run dry. Jack gave the waitress a grateful smile, and idly watched as she walked away--towards the blond man’s table.

Jack nearly choked on his drink, thinking about the odds of them sharing a waitress. A dangerous idea was filtering into his mind, and another sip made it seem like just a bit smarter. His mind working through the idea and his fascination with the man in the corner, Jack kept talking, maybe against his better judgement.

<Do you think he got stood up for a date or something? He looks a bit sad.>

His parents had shared a look that Jack had elected to ignore, but they continued to humor him.

<He might have, or that might just be his face.> Bob’s eyes betrayed the joke, but Jack missed it, still watching the man as he typed away on his phone.

<This is a reservation only restaurant, it’s a bit unusual to see someone eating all by themselves, isn’t it?> Jack took another sip, missing the concerned look that passed between his parents. He might have garnered an unhealthy obsession with the man, but he also hadn’t seen anyone so beautiful before.

<Jack, maybe we shouldn’t be talking about someone behind their back like this, even if he might not be able to understand us, it’s still rude.> Alicia, ever the voice of reason for the two hockey knuckleheads in her family, voiced her concern on death ears. Jack was slipping from tipsy to drunk for the first time in forever, stealing himself for his idea.

<Maybe I’ll ask for his number.>

<Jack, maybe you should sober up a bit before you think about having a conversation like this with him.> Bob joined Alicia in her concern, but Jack was already laying out his plan, it just had one more piece necessary.

<Don’t worry, I won’t be the one asking.> Right on cue, the waitress was returning to their table with the check in hand. He had it all thought out, ready as soon as she asked the question.

“Will you three need anything else for today?” She smiled brightly at them, and Jack quickly smiled back before diving right into his plan.

“Yes. I’d like that man’s number.” He pointed to the man in the corner, completely satisfied with his execution. His parents, on the other hand, voiced their displeasure immediately, all while the waitress stood there a bit shocked.

“Jack, no!”

<That is not the way to handle this situation!> Bob shook his head at his son.

<What, papa? What better way: I won’t make a fool of myself this way. I won the game today, I deserve a little bit of mischief.” There may have been a few more warning signs that Jack should have picked up on, but he was a little too drunk to care. Generally speaking, that’s when he knew to shut his mouth.

The waitress stood there, shifting uncomfortably, glancing between him and the man in the corner. “Sir? I think I may have misheard you.”

“I’d appreciate it if you could go and ask that man sitting in the corner looking sad over several plates of food for his number. For me.” He added as a side note, finally losing some confidence as she kept staring at him.

“I… will certainly try, sir. Here is your check.” She forced a smile before placing the check down in front of Bob. Jack took it before his father could pull out his wallet. He figured he might as well pay for making dinner awkward. He placed his card in and handed it back to the waitress, who walked away with a few more glances between the two tables.

She came back a moment later, handing the check back to Jack. She looked at him as if she wanted to say something, and Jack had a feeling he knew what it was. Before she could say anything, the words were slipping through his mouth.

“You’re not going to do it, are you?” He knew it was rude. The awkwardness had sobered him up a little, and he was beginning to see the flaw in his plan. When the waitress shook her head, Jack only felt a little disappointed.

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t think it would be right for me to do it.” She hesitated again. “I hope you enjoyed your meal.” With that, she turned away, checking on other tables, leaving Jack with a blush that burned more than the alcohol he had consumed.

<Come on Jack, it’s not so bad. Maybe next time, don’t come up with harebrained ideas like that, right?> Bob cracked a smile, and Jack only nodded, carefully writing in a large tip to cover up the trouble he caused.

~~

Eric wanted to like the food at this restaurant. It was reasonably popular and reservation only, so it had to have good food. From the first dish though, he knew he was in for a just alright meal. He sighed for the umpteemth time, Taking a sip of his water, before typing into his phone his thoughts.

He hadn’t been working as a food critic for that long, so it took him a bit longer to write his thoughts out into the code he’d come up with. He was beginning to regret choosing ‘food critic’ as his job, it took him longer to write the reviews than it had when he ran his food blog.

Shitty had told him about this place. Based on the reviews, while it was a fancier establishment, the dining room was clean and the food was amazing. Eric agreed with the first half. Maybe not so much the second half. Even so, he made sure to keep enough leftovers to send Shitty and Larissa’s way when he was done. They may be his agents and best friends, but they couldn’t care less about the quality of the food as long as they got to eat it.

The most interesting thing about the restaurant had nothing to do with it, though. Maybe it was coincidence, but when he had looked up to gather his thoughts, his eyes had matched with the drop-dead gorgeous man a few tables over. Of course Eric recognized him. Anyone living in Providence had to know who the captain of the Providence Falconers was. Eric just never expected to see him up close and in person.

Jack Zimmermann looked away first, and Eric was grateful for the somewhat dim lighting allowing him to hide his blush. It was no secret amongst his friends that he had a crush on Jack Zimmermann. It was easier on the road for Eric to escape him, but at home in Providence it was nearly impossible.

Eric focused on his food critic job instead of the object of his massive crush, but every so often he found himself looking in Jack’s direction. It was hard not to when Jack had raised his voice, and Eric’s mind had wandered to what exactly they were talking about, but he quickly looked back to his phone when they met eyes again.

As the night wound on, Eric noticed that he and Jack had the same waitress. A thought popped into his head, but he quickly shut it down, not wanting to cause a scene or be rejected. But it still sat at the back of his mind as he continued his notes.

The waitress did her job as best as she could, though Eric knew she was nervous to be waiting on a food critic. He tried to make her job as easy as possible, even if that was almost the opposite of what was expected of him. It seemed though, that every time she went from Jack’s table to Eric’s, she was more flustered than just the normal run-of-the-mill food critic stress.

It wasn’t until some commotion occurred at Jack’s table that Eric really became curious as to why. He had noticed Jack’s point and drunken satisfied smile, but they were just too far away and just on the side of too quiet for Eric to hear why he was being pointed at. When the waitress turned away with their check, she had a worried expression on her face. Eric thought about making note of it, but he doubted it was her fault if customers were being difficult in some form.

Eric’s opinion of Jack lowered in that moment, and he resolved himself to not pay as much attention to him. But the curiosity was gnawing at him, making him wonder if he should ask her when she stopped by his table next.

It didn’t take long, as she dropped the check back off at Jack’s table, before quickly turning to Eric’s. “Sorry for any wait sir. Is there anything else you will need?”

“Some to-go boxes for the leftovers. Even if this wasn’t part of the job, I could never finish off this many dishes with how small I am.” Eric cracked a smile to show he was joking. He wasn’t one for hiding who he was at restaurants like this, finding it easier to work with them than against them.

He should have left it there, but as he watched Jack and his parents grab their things to leave, Eric knew this was his only chance to know. “And… tell me why that customer had you all flustered.”

The waitress’s smile dropped a fraction, but Eric kept an even smile himself, willing her to open up a little. She seemed to debate between telling him and not, before ultimately landing on telling him.

“Well, you see, sir… He had a… Unreasonable request. About another guest. But I didn’t want to inconvenience y-- the other guest, so I had to tell him no.”

“Hmm I see. What was the request?” Eric knew he was getting a little too bold in his curiosity, but Jack was slowly slipping away and he felt like he’d never see him in person like this again.

“Well--” The waitress paused, looking between Eric and the retreating Jack. She turned back to Eric, who smiled encouragingly at her, and maybe that was all she needed to spill the beans. “He wanted me to ask you for your number. For him.”

She shut her eyes as if that would upset Eric, but Eric was more focused on remembering how to breath. Why would Jack want his number? Why would Jack Zimmermann want his number? Why would Captain Jack Zimmermann of the Providence Falconers want his number?

Before Eric had even acknowledged it, the words were flying out of his mouth faster than he could stop them. “He can have it.”

“What?” She seemed to drop all sense of formality, but Eric didn’t hold it against her. Eric scrambled in his bag for a moment before pulling out his business card. Lardo had designed them with a nice pie lattice design, and he always carried a stack around with him. The number on the card was only his business number, so he flipped to the back, taking a considerably longer time trying to locate a pen.

The waitress handed him one of hers, still a bit dumbstruck. Eric quickly scrawled out his number, along with a hurriedly written ‘call me!’, which he quickly crossed out. He handed the card to the waitress, who took it numbly.

“Would you please hand it to him before he’s out the door? I’d hate to let him get away empty handed.” Eric flashed him his Georgia Peach smile, and she nodded wordlessly, turning towards the retreating Zimmermanns. Jack had his head down, and Eric wondered if he’d done the right thing, even if it was the most impulsive thing he’d ever done.

~~

Jack was almost out the door when the waitress from their table came up to them. She was holding what looked to be a card tightly in her hands, and Jack wondered for a moment if he had left his card behind.

“Um… sir. Here.” She thrust the card at him, a little bit wide-eyed. Jack took it from her, confused, staring down at a business card. It was designed well, and Jack could clearly see the name “Eric R. Bittle, Food Critic” written in large letters above a phone number, a website, and an email.

“Apparently he had noticed the commotion from earlier, and asked me about it. Frankly, sir, it had stressed me out when you asked, and I couldn’t help but tell him. Maybe he’d assuage my discomfort by telling me I did the right thing saying no. But then he said you could have it.” She looked more stressed out than she had when he had asked, and Jack wondered if she was ok. “He wrote his personal number on the back… I think.”

Jack turned the card over, seeing the number scrawled, and the crossed out ‘call me’. Jack couldn’t believe his luck, wondering just what he had gotten himself into.

“Thank you. I hope the tip I left you is more than enough to cover the trouble I caused.” Jack didn’t take his eyes off the card, but his tone of voice was genuine, and the waitress left with a frazzled-sounding noise.

<That’s… great son. You managed to actually succeed with that harebrained plan.> Bob’s eyes had nearly popped out of their sockets, but he really was happy for his son. Alicia rolled her eyes at them both, and pulled Jack along to the car.

<Can’t take you both anywhere. I swear, if you get a date out of this Jack, I’ll never go out to dinner with you again.> Alicia’s tone was joking, but she certainly was more tired after this dinner than she had been after the game. She might even keep her word if her son stopped being a dingus and got himself a date.

Jack had stopped paying attention to his parents long ago, his phone already in his hand, inputting the number to call at a later, and far more sober, date. Plans only ever worked this well in his head, afterall.

#bittyjack #bv2020 #bitty's valentines #omgcp fandom #omg check please!

[browneyedhimbo]

Magnets

Paring: Not really one, just platonic

Summary: Bucky doesn’t like his arm, always reminding him of Hydra and what they did to him. Little does he know, a certain little avenger takes notice of this and decides to take matters into his own hands, with some help of course.

Warning: Fluff, Swearing

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED IT!! This went waaay over the word count I originally thought it’d take. Just so you all know, I’m not that good with summaries buuut I tried. Also, sorry there are so many time skips. Not sure if this idea has been done or not, but if it has this is my take on it. 

Please let me know if you want to get tagged in anything. Enjoy!  Masterlist

"I want to make him feel better. But I just don't know what to do. He glares at the thing when he thinks no one is looking." Peter Parker said as he was putting books in his locker.

"Well, have you tried sticking magnets to it? You said it was metal right?" Ned suggested.

"Vibranium actually. But yeah. You know what? That sounds like a great idea!" Peters's eyes lit up with excitement, knowing exactly what kinds of magnets to get. 

~~~~~~

Now on a mission, he was swinging as fast as he could through the compound.

"Peter swings from side to side. Sticking to the walls. He jumps and he - AH!" Swings right into Tony, making them both fall with an oof.

"Why the rush kid?" Tony asks getting up and outstretching his hand to help Peter.

"I'm on a very important mission, Mr. Stark. Top secret." With a sweet smile and fake salute, he was back on his way to Bucky's room. 

"I swear that kid's going to be the death of me," Tony mumbled with a sigh. "Fri keep an eye on him."

"Yes, boss."

~~~~~~

After Peter knocked he started to feel a little anxious. Maybe he wouldn't like it? Or maybe he'll think its a stupid idea? Or maybe - 

"Peter? What're you doin here?" Peter started fiddling with the bag in his hand.

"Hey there Mr. Barnes uh sir. I uh, I got you something. Hopefully, it'll make you feel better. Or at least I hope it does. Even if it doesn't, I mean - well. It’s just - um. Here.” Looking down, Peter sheepishly handed the bag to Bucky. Hearing a chuckle made Peter whip his head up so fast you’d think it’d break. Turns out he had nothing to worry about. The big smile plastered on Bucky’s face was contagious enough to make the kid smile too.

“So you like it? Even though it’s cheesy and probably stupid?”

“Cheesy yes, but it’s not stupid.” Peter’s soft brown eyes locked onto Bucky’s steal blue ones and saw the sincerity and seriousness behind the words.

“Why don’t you come in and help me put them on,” Bucky said while walking back inside toward his bed, leaving the door open.

“Oh uh, sure!” Closing the door and walking in Peter noted the few things in the dulled grey room. A decent-sized red oak stained office desk sat tucked in a corner with a small modern desk lamp on it, papers neatly piled and a notebook next to it, a pretty big sized bed pushed up against the wall very neatly made military-styled, and a decent-sized tv hung on the wall right across from it. His heart ached for the poor soldier. He knew Bucky would isolate himself from the others, but he figured he'd have things in his room to make up for it. Keep him occupied. 

Bucky plopped on the bed, Peter in tow. Hesitantly, Peter put his hand in the bad and grabbed the first magnet he felt. Bringing his hand out, they both saw it was an iron man helmet. 

"Well, what are the odds?" Bucky let out a laugh making Peter chuckle.

~~~~~~

About 10 minutes later Peter put the last magnet on Bucky's arm, a proud smile evident on his face. He sat back and admired his work. Different types of Avengers and New York magnets stuck to the arm.

Bucky seemed to like it. Turning his arm a few times to see the kid's hard work.

"Looks great Pete. Thank you." Bucky smiled and ruffled Peter's hair causing them both to laugh again. Peter looked at his watch and mentally cursed. It was 6:53 and he told May he would be home by 7. He started grabbing his stuff and shoved them into his backpack. 

"Sorry to leave like this Mr. Barnes. I told my aunt I'd be home by 7," he started rambling as he was putting his web-shooters on his wrists. "Maybe I can swing by tomorrow after school and we can add more on. Oo or maybe-" Bucky let out a chuckle cutting of Peters rambling.

"Kid. You're aunt." 

"Oh right! Bye Mr. Barnes!" He yelled out before swinging out the compound through the window.

~~~~~~

It was another 5 minutes after Peter had left and Bucky still sat on the bed. Undisturbed, unmoving, thoughts racing. It's not unknown that Bucky doesn't like talking much to the others. Sure he'll hold small talk when he has to, and yeah he'll hang out with Sam and Steve more than anyone else, but if he's being honest with himself, he'd rather just workout and stay in his room instead of constantly being worried they'll mistreat him, or rather, treat him like a villain. Okay, maybe that's a bit extreme. But he doesn't want to risk it, opening up and getting shut down, being nice and then getting the cold shoulder.

That's why he always separated himself from them. But the kid, that kid. Peter Parker. Whenever he was around, he always managed to bring out a different side of Bucky. A happier more open side, and no it's not just the fact that he's similar to how Steve was before that soldier serum, but there was a certain energy he had. Always happy, bright, ready to help, innocent. Bucky swore he was going to protect him, no matter what.

~~~~~~

No matter how busy the Avengers can get (not really), they always try to have movie night. Though he won't show it, Bucky is always excited for movie night. He's missed so much. It gives him a small ache in his chest, but he's just glad he's there. 

After grabbing the popcorn bowl, Bucky walked into the living room only to be hollered and whistled at by Sam and Clint.

“So you finally decided to take your arm into the workshop then huh Barnes?” Sam smugly asked.

“Got it detailed? And oh lookie, it even has an arrow!” Clint smirked. They never could never resist a moment to tease the ex-assassin. 

“Yeah. It was all Peter’s idea. Make one more joke and I’ll crack you for it.” Though he said it in a light tone, smirk in place, they all knew he was being serious. Everyone knew Bucky was more protective of Peter than Tony. And that says something.

“Alright, alright.” Sam put up his hands in mock surrender. 

“Sit your ass down so I can get some of that popcorn then.” Clint slapped his hand on a spot next to him on the couch. Bucky shook his head at the archer while sitting down. The intro credits started rolling and when the main title popped up, it seemed familiar to him. ‘Star Wars’. Where has he heard that? Peter. It was always Peter.

~~~~~~

It happened randomly.  Last week, Tony was working in the lab when FRIDAY started playing videos for him. 

“Uh Fri? What’s this?” 

“You asked me to keep on Peter, sir.” FRIDAY’s voice echoed through the lab. So he sat there. Watching every single video. And boy did they surprise him. He personally never really saw sweet caring side of Barnes. Sure Tony knew Bucky was capable of it, but it was quite a shock seeing him being so gentle with the kid. But Tony understood. Tony knew exactly what Peter meant to Bucky and what Bucky meant to Peter. It was a weird twist between parental and sibling bonds. Which explains why Tony is currently is the lab sketching up different designed arms for the super soldier.

~~~~~~

“Hey, Mr. Stark you’ll never believe what happened on patrol last night.” Peter was saying while walking into the lab. “There was this big - oh what’s this? New repulsor arm design or something?” Tony couldn't help but laugh at the kid's antics of changing the subject so quickly.

“For once, no.” Tony started. “I’ve seen how close you and Barnes have been lately. I knew sooner or later you were gonna ask me about building a new arm for him, so I started some designs last night for you to choose from.” Peter’s mouth dropped. And he also couldn't pinpoint exactly what he was feeling either. 

“Am I that easy to read?” Tony gave a small smile at the kid before turning to the designs and spreading them out for Peter to see.

“Oo I like that one. But maybe we can make it more realistic. That way it doesn’t trigger a bad memory or anything.”  Peter started rambling while messing with the design. The kid definitely reminded Tony of himself in so many ways, but his purity is what truly defines him. 

~~~~~~

Five hours, four oil spills, three coffee pots, and two naps later, the arm was finished. Peter could hardly contain himself. He was so happy that finally after so long, Bucky can now say he was truly free from Hydra.

“How you feeling kid?” Tony asked, clasping a hand on Peters's shoulder. The kid looked up, tears in his eyes. Tony was starting to panic. Shit, why is crying? Why is crying? Why? Why? Why?

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” Peter choked out. Tony immediately brought the kid to his chest, cradling his neck. A sad smile making away on his face. Now he understood. Tony always understands.

~~~~~~

Rapid knocking is what pulled Bucky out of his thoughts. Thinking something bad has happened he rushed over to the door. Though he wasn’t ready to fling the door open to find a bouncing Peter ready to bolt at a moment's notice. 

“Pete, what happened? Did something happen? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Bucky started inspecting the kid making sure nothing was broken or bruised. Peter let out a laugh.

“No. Everything is PERFECT!” He smiled brightly, causing the soldier to smile too. “BUT, follow me!” Peter started running towards the lab, looking back every few strides to make sure Bucky was right behind him. When they got to the entrance of the lab, Peter stopped.

“You don’t mind me covering your eyes, do you?” Peter tentative asked, holding up a blindfold. 

“Nah. I trust you kid.” Seeing the kid's eyes light up always made Bucky feel happy and warm inside.

After putting the blindfold on, Peter gently guided Bucky to where the arm was displaying. Tony had left to give them space, but FRIDAY on the hand, had some other plans and recording was one of them. Slowly, Peter untied the blindfold.

“This is the lab.” Bucky started looking around, confusion evident on his face.

“Very good observation Sherlock Holmes.” Peter snickered. The playful death glare Bucky sent his way completely obliterated the seriousness Peter wanted to embody and sent him to a fit of giggles. “Look down.” All laughter subsided. Bucky picked up the arm and inspected it. Peter couldn’t tell what emotion Bucky was feeling. All he saw was an emotionless face before Bucky turned his face out of view.

Bucky stared at the arm. His mind was racing a million miles a minute. For a long second, he thought this wasn’t real, any of this. But the burning sensation in his eyes told him otherwise. He felt the lump in his throat, the shaking of his hands. No matter how deep a breath he took, Bucky felt like he couldn’t breathe. So many emotions and thoughts. He took a shaky breath and looked over at Peter. And it was there, that Peter saw the real Bucky for the first time. 

Ever so slowly, Bucky placed the arm back on the table. He walked over to where Peter was standing still and engulfed him in the biggest hug. And Peter clinging on to him.

"Thank you. Thank you, Peter." Bucky started sobbing. He never would've thought that the one to help him pick up the pieces would be a kid from Queens. Yet, here they were attached like magnets. Like the family they both ever wanted.

-------

Tags: @katbtracy @agentpeggybarnes @justmebeingtheweirdmeiam @writing-for-hours-on-end @theladyoffangorn @thelibraryoffanfiction

#Bucky Barnes #peter parker #Avengers #Winter Solider #spiderman #tony stark #iron man #winter soldier #sam wilson #falcon #clint barton #hawkeye #avengers family

[jjonesin4]

Songfic Writing Challenge

Day 8: A song that makes you happy

I Believe in a Thing Called Love, The Darkness 

Jughead is desperately trying to hold it together in front of his new next-door-neighbor that is apparently also Pop’s new waitress. Her name tag reads “Betty” and her smile is warmer than the steaming black coffee she continues to pour into his mug as he stares at my laptop. Usually Jughead can sit in his booth at Pop’s with his headphones on and completely lose himself in words. 

How is he supposed to write the next Great American Novel™ while Betty flits about the diner in that little, yellow, uniform with her golden ponytail swinging? He reasons that he just has to start typing anything or else he knows that he will never get over his writer’s block. He’s going to have to follow where inspiration leads him at this moment. Apparently inspiration has emerald green eyes and very kissable lips. 

To set the scene, Fred let Archie move into the garage once my stay at the Andrews house became more permanent. Archie loves it because he has a separate door making it easier for him to entertain. Most nights I’m just thankful for the soundproofing; I don’t have to hear Archie bang his drums, punching bags, or Veronica. But now, I don’t know if I should be praising or cursing my current living situation because when I sit at the desk in front of the window in Archie’s old room to write, I get an unobstructed view into Betty’s new room. 

It happened by accident the first time. I opened the window with the hope that a literal breath of fresh air would somehow be all I needed to get over my latest case of writer’s block. As I fiddled around with the same paragraph I had been looking at for hours I heard what sounded like I Believe In A Thing Called Love by The Darkness coming from the newly occupied house next door. Who in Riverdale would be blasting that song?

I looked up from my much too blank laptop screen to see what can only be described as the perfect girl dancing around a very pink room in a faded, light blue tee shirt and matching, soft-looking pajama shorts as she unpacked worn-out boxes. 

She looked so free as she threw her head back with her eyes closed and tried to reach the high notes. I couldn’t help but chuckle (because I’m not secure enough to admit that I giggled) when her voice cracked. Her body wiggled to the beat as she arranged an impressive collection of books onto a bookshelf and I was enchanted. 

Enchanted and distracted.

I am a people watcher by nature. The inspiration for my writing comes from observing the world around me as opposed to being an active participant in the epic highs and lows of the high school social scene. So in the least creepy way possible, I have found my eyes wandering to Betty’s window every night since she moved in 3 days ago. 

I recognize that there is a line between “people watching” and straight up stalking. So in an effort to avoid the temptation of staring through our windows tonight, I came here to Pop’s to clear my head and hopefully get back to writing. Unfortunately (or extremely fortunately depending on how I play this), my unrequited love just happens to be my waitress. 

I have three options here. 

Ignore her outside of the necessary waitress-guest transactions. Order food, bring food, eat food, clear food, pay for food, over tip, leave. This option wraps around me like a warm blanket of introvertedness. I can love her from a distance until my last breath, and even then there’s probably some special pining section of the afterlife I can get in on.

Propose marriage. I’m confident I can make her happy as long as we both shall live. 

Introduce myself and start a conversation as a normal human would do. This is obviously the least likely to happen. This requires some kind of innate ability to relate to those around me that I do. not. have. I’m a weirdo. I’m wei

Jughead’s typing is interrupted by a soft voice on the side of his booth.

“Sir, would you like a warm up?” Betty asks as she holds up a fresh pot of black coffee and quirks an eyebrow in question. 

“Yeah, that would be great, uh,” he says, “Betty,” pretending to read her name tag for the first time. 

Jughead tries to keep the nerves out of his voice as he looks up into her gorgeous green eyes and says,  “I’m Jughead, by the way. Are, um… are you new in town?”

#songfic writing challenge 2019 #bughead #bughead fanfiction #i switched day 8 and day 9 prompts #new day 8 #a song that makes you happy #i believe in a thing called love #the darkness #jughead jones #betty cooper #new girl betty #neighbor jughead #jughead has a crush #he's not equipped to handle a crush #but she's so pretty

[champagnesugamama]

All That Glitters Ch.1: The Proposition

All That Glitters Ch.1: The Proposition

Moving Day 

Viktor Drago x Ofc(Athena Creed)

Author: Champagnesugamama

Summary:  Athena Creed, twin sister to the legendary boxer Adonis Creed, has been expanding her business of natural hair and skin care products, when another unexpected business venture lands in her path, but will it cause more harm than good?.....

You guys it literally took me so long just to start this first chapter! I rewrote the first paragraph like 50x! I hope you guys enjoy my little series. 

     “What the fuck do you mean you have to move to to the Ukraine?” Fuck, Adonis is already giving me a headache. I rubbed my eyes and answered him for the fifth time.

    “Adonis I already told yo ass why five times! I have to oversee the building and manufacturing of my two factories! You know the taxes over in the Ukraine are significantly lower than in the United States. I have to base my factories over there if I want that 50 million dollar tax break.” He acts like I haven’t explored all options before deciding this. I don’t want to move to a foreign country where I will be ostracized from my loved ones, but this money doesn’t make itself.  He ain’t the only one in this family who got bread. Matter of fact I’m richer than his ass. I worked my ass off in Harvard to get to where I am today, and I will be damned if my irritating ass little brother stops my bag.  

5 YEARS AGO HARVARD UNIVERSITY

      “So, you got the stuff?” A masculine voice said through my dormitory door.

      “Yea you got the money?” I replied with a straight up attitude. Shit you would be mad too if this high ass senior was knocking at yo door at 12 am.

   “Yea, open the door Ma, I just wanna see what you got.” I know this nigga don’t think I’m about to let him in my dorm at no 12 o’clock at night.

    “No Sir, yo girl already sent in her order and you are just supposed to pick it up, ain’t nobody say you could browse the merchandise after hours. Now slide the envelope under the door and wait for your product.” He sucked his teeth and slide the envelope under the door. I counted out the necessary $150, and unlocked my door, but still keeping the chain on, I handed the man his shit.

    “Yo tell Keisha she ain’t special, if her ass can’t come between business hours she is just gonna have to get it shipped to her dorm.” I said rolling my eyes. I know that girl ain’t got shit to do, but lay up with her nigga.

    “Aight, I got you Ma. You know this shit is like crack to the females out here.You even got my momma and homeboys pullin’ up on me for this shit. What you really be puttin in this shit?” Now why he ask me that like I’m gonna tell him?

     “None of your business sir. Now go give my home girl her hair and skin shit, she been looking a little ashy lately.” He laughed, but I was straight up serious, bitch been lookin’ a lil flaky lately.

     “Oh shit, Imma tell her you said that shit too, night little mama.” I rolled my eyes and shut my door. I fed my money in the safe’s automatic counter and saw my day’s earnings were reaching up to 10,000 dollars. I’m gonna have to start looking into a bigger manufacturing place cause this ain’t cuttin it. I still have 25 back orders for just this campus alone. The secret is that I have two different pricing menus. One is for the stuck up rich kids at the school, and the other is for the chill homies, and scholarship babies. I gotta make my money somehow.

1 YEAR AGO SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA

    “Hello, This is the office of Athena Creed. How may I help you?” My assistant Keisha answered the phone.” Now y’all must be wondering, “This bitch got a whole ass secretary? Since when?”, since I expanded my business and went national with a few small factories. I graduated top 5% of my class in Harvard, and expanded my business before I graduated. I am now the youngest self made Billionaire in the United States.

     “Ms. Creed, P. Diddy is on line one and your finance manager is on line 2. You also have to get back to the Supply manager about the shortages on the shipments to Ulta and Sephora. The online orders are also being backlogged for some reason, and there is a protest at one of your factories about the “supposedly anonymous” tip about animal testing and what not. Should I put them on hold or patch them through?” See this is why need a second assistant.  

     “Patch through P. Diddy, tell my finance manager I’ll call her at 3 o’clock, tell the supply manager to email me the problem, hire a online order manager, and call the cops on the protesters outside of the factory. The whole 15 acres around the factory is private property and they are in violation of the privacy laws. Call Oprah to do a walk through interview with me and my factory manager to silence the protesters. They are only protesting because this is a black made business with black investors, and they want to burn it to the ground like black wall street, but I rebuke that Caucasian devil.”

     “Ms. Creed you so crazy, but I’ll get right on that.” I waited 20 seconds after I saw the red light turn on to answer. I can’t let these niggas think I’m too excited to be in their presence.

     “Hello, this is Athena Creed.” I said in my professional black voice. Y’all know the one you use for corporate niggas.

     “Hey baby girl, you got time for lunch today?” Sean has been a friend of my family since the early ‘80s, since before my dad passed. My parents met Sean at one of my dad’s fights at the MGM casino. We’ve been close ever since.

     “Yea Unc, What’s up?” I asked concerned, because my uncle has had it pretty hard recently, with the passing of the love of his life Kim Porter.

     “Nothing, I just have a business proposition for you to expand your reach in the business world. Ya know it’s always good to have different eggs in your basket. I know hair and skin is your passion, but I hope you’ll have an open mind with your uncle today.” Alright now what does he want.

     “Alright Unc. I’ll meet you at Urasawa on rodeo drive in about an hour. Make sure you come dress like we’re having lunch and not going to the met gala.” I laughed. He has a tendency to go overboard with his day to day outfits. We hung up and I made my way to my house to change out of my office clothes and to take a shower, I smell like the office.

     “Hey Keisha, you can go home after you post the job to the job sites, and organize the food for the next staff meeting on Monday. Have a good weekend, oh and redirect my calls to my business phone while you’re at it. Thanks sweetheart.” I said from the elevator.

     “Sure no problem Ms. Creed. Have a nice weekend.” She said with a smile and a wave as the elevator closed. 

     I got out of the bath, and I put some of my super growth oil, curling cream, and rice water aloe Vera gel in my hair to make my curls pop. I did my edges, and put on my chill day makeup. You know I had to support my girl Rihanna and buy her body lava. I mix one drop in with my moisturizer and rub that on my face and neck. It gives me a natural glow without makeup, cause I’m lazy.

Okay, so I know I said I was gonna chill, but I’m going on Rodeo Drive today, Imma stunt on them bitches. And since I’m stunting on some stuck up bitches we might as well go all out and bring out my new baby that I treated myself to as a present for making the Forbes list. 

     I stepped out of the car and threw my keys to the valet and gave him a band to not scratch it. My bodyguard met me at the sidewalk and escorted me to the door through the paparazzi and fans. I don’t know how they keep getting my location, but Imma need them to chill. The waitress automatically escorted me to my Uncle’s table. You can tell we come here way too often, but my uncle knows I’ll blow a check on some sushi. The waitress lead me to the back and up a set of stairs behind the grand piano, behind a draped, white, sheer chiffon  curtain to the only table in the back V.I.P. area of the restaurant.        “Hey Uncle Sean. How are you?” I asked him as he got up to hug me and pull  out my chair.      “Hey, Athena. I’m hanging in there. What about you, sweetheart?” He said as he sat back down in his chair.      “I’m good Uncle Sean, but I’m hungry as hell. We need to order before I waste away.” I laughed as I signaled the waiter over to us.      “Hello, welcome to Urasawa. What can I start you guys off with?” The waiter asked. I squinted hard as hell to read his name tag. Okay Kenji I see you. He’s cute or whatever.      “Hey Kenji, did I pronounce that right?” I waited for him to reply, while giving him the bedroom eyes. I looked him up and down, making sure he knew I was interested. I peeped Uncle Sean rolling his eyes at me, but I don’t know why he’s complainin’, I learned it from him.      “Yea, you’re the first person to pronounce it right on the first time. What can I get for you beautiful.” Kenji the waiter asked me, as he eyed my body, and proceeded to commence with the fuck boy tendencies, and bite his lip and “seduce” me with his eyes. Okay he’s canceled. I can’t take the fake ass california valley “swag”. Shit disgusts me.

     “Um. I’ll take the Ama Ebi, Ikura Gunkan Sushi, and the Toro with a sprite. Thank you.” I handed the menu back, and turned to uncle Sean. 

     “Well shit I’ll just take what she’s having.” He said handing his menu back. Alright now it’s down to business. I put on my Big Boss Bitch face and folded my hands on the very neat and crisp tablecloth, and turned my gaze to my uncle.

     “So, this ‘business’ proposition….What is it?” I asked impatient as hell. He just leans back in his seat and folds his hands in his lap.

     “Can’t we just eat first before you upset your stomach with all them nerves. You’ve always been impatient as hell, even as a baby. Cryin’ n’ shit. Being spoilt by everyone who looked at you. Man I couldn’t walk in yo parents place without a Cinnabon for your greedy ass.” He laughed, and I looked at him out the side of my eye. So that’s why I was a 90lb kindergartner. This nigga been trying to give me type 2 diabetes since I was two.      “Uncle Sean you ain’t right for that! You were over the house almost everyday! You was trying to kill a nigga!” I said rolling my eyes at him. He laughed at me, but I was dead ass serious! I had breathing problems in pre-k all because this nigga couldn’t say no to a toddler. 

     “Alright, I’ll spare a nigga. The proposition is for you to open up your own alcohol brewery.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

@dragothishole @marvelheaux @honeychicana @harleycativy @avengersandlovers @amethyst1993 @sdcyumyum @the-lululemon

@almostpurelysmut @itshinothey @titty-teetee @laubluered @pananegra

@est1887 @bugngiz @ginghampearlsnssweettea @chaneajoyyy 

#All that Glitters #florian munteanu #Viktor Drago #viktor drago x reader #adonis creed

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 3 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: Thank you for the positive feedback, likes, reblogs, comments, and tags so far!  This chapter is kinda sorta filler (3000 words worth...) but, you know...whatevs.

Bee hoped what she was wearing was okay.  She almost wanted to cancel when Morgan told her to meet him at the corner of Spadina and King Street West, where they would walk to the place together.  King West was swanky.  There were a lot of trendy shops and restaurants, and a steady flow of cool bars kept popping up all the time.  It was beyond Bee’s comfort zone.  She loved walking down there, and she loved the old architecture and the facades of the buildings…but to actually go in to one of them?  No.  Those types of places weren’t meant for her.

But she didn’t cancel.  She didn’t cancel because Morgan only told her about an hour before where to meet him, and it would have been exceptionally rude.  She didn’t cancel because, yet again, Angie – still in Kingston – threatened to come back to Toronto and force her to go.

She didn’t cancel because she really wanted to see Morgan.  

As she approached the intersection, Bee could see Morgan leaning against the side of a building, looking down at his phone.  She had walked from her place all the way down Spadina, and she thanked God there was a cool breeze out or else she probably would have been a sweating mess.  As if on cue, he looked up from his phone to see her walking, and gave her a little wave, pushing himself off the wall and shoving his phone into his pocket.  

He pulled her in for a quick hug when she was close enough, his hands lingering a bit on her hips.  “You look great,” he looked her in the eye as she said it.  

She knew her pants were tugging on her hips.  And she knew her top was a bit too big and her shoes were old and her bag had seen better days but apparently that didn’t matter.  She smiled at the compliment.  He was wearing a pair of grey slacks, a short-sleeve button down, and his ever-present baseball cap.  The sight of his biceps made her knees weak.  “Ready to go?  Where’s the restaurant?” she asked.

“Have you ever been to Cibo?”

She gulped.  Cibo was one of the best wine bars in the city.  “Nope.”

His hand slipped quickly from her hip to hold her hand, and she could have sworn her heart fluttered at the contact.  God, he had to know what he was doing.  “Then let’s go.  You’re gonna love it.”

They arrived at the restaurant still hand in hand.  As it was a Friday evening, it was packed with people.  There were diners everywhere, and there was a group of people waiting inside as well as a line up outside the doors.  It was busy.  As Bee slowed down to entire the end of the line, Morgan tugged her inside.  She looked around to make sure nobody was giving them a dirty look.  ‘We aren’t cutting’ she wanted to tell everyone.  ‘I have no idea what he’s doing, but we’re not cutting!’

“It’s currently a 45 minute wait for a table,” the beautiful blonde hostess said to Morgan and Bee as they approached her – no hello, no formalities, just the time.  “We can write down your name if you’d like.”

“That won’t be necessary.  We have reservations,” Morgan said.  “Und --”

“Cibo doesn’t take reservations on Friday nights,” she interrupted.

Morgan gave her a look for being rude.  “Well someone here took my booking.  It’s under the name Morgan.”

“Take a seat,” she nodded towards the benches where some people were waiting.  

“But we have --”

“Morgan, it’s okay,” Bee felt the need to intervene.  She shook his hand, which was still holding on to hers, to get his attention.  “It’s okay.  We can wait for a bit, and if it’s too long we can just find somewhere else.”

After twenty minutes of waiting, Morgan was becoming increasingly impatient.  He probably would have approached the hostess again, but Bee kept telling him not to say anything, that it’s okay, that they’d eventually get a table.  He wasn’t so sure.  He needed this night to go well, and right now, it was a disaster.  When she went to the washroom, he finally took his chance.  

He approached the hostess once more, trying to remain calm.  “Excuse me…we have reservations.  We shouldn’t be waiting this long for a table.”

“It’s Friday night, sir.  Cibo gets busy.  And like I said, we don’t take reservations on Fridays.”

He took a quick look around to make sure Bee wasn’t coming back from the washroom.  He absolutely hated doing this, but he knew he needed to in order to salvage the night.  “Listen, Ben usually works Friday nights, right?  Tell him Morgan Rielly is here.”

He could see the girl roll her eyes.  “Morgan O’Reilly?”

“No no, just Rielly.  Mor-gan Rie-lly,” he said slower.

He watched as she picked up the receiver, pressed a button, and waited for someone to answer on the other end.  She barely batted an eyelash when she finally said, “Hey Ben – I’m supposed to tell you Morgan Rielly has been here for twenty minutes.”  Her tone was very sarcastic and dry.  Something was clearly said because she straightened up her back and hung up the phone.  “He’s on his way out,” she said quickly.  

“Great, thank you.”

As if on cue, he watched as Bee exited the washroom and Ben – the manager that usually handled the boys whenever they wanted to discreetly come in – whip around the bend and start walking towards the front reception.  When Bee noticed Morgan still at the front, she pursed her lips slightly.  “Still no table?”

“It’s coming,” Morgan nodded his head towards Ben, making Bee turn around.

“Mo!  How the fuck are you?” Ben’s voice bellowed over the mass of people congregated in the restaurant.  He and Morgan shook hands and bumped chests before he continued.  “You’re back in town early!  You got Matts with you?”

“No no.  It’s Briony’s first time at Cibo,” Morgan said, placing his hand on the small of her back.  

“Let me bring you to your usual right away,” Ben said.  “Apologies about the wait.”

Morgan’s hand slipped to hold Bee’s as they made their way through the restaurant until Ben brought them to a booth at near the back corner.  They sat down across from each other and were promptly handed the food and wine menus before Ben told them their server would be there shortly.  He patted Mo on the back before leaving.  Bee wondered if he came here a lot.

“Do you know what any of this means?” Bee mused as she looked through the wine menu.  She wasn’t a complete idiot – she obviously knew there were different types of wines, and they came from different regions around the world, but she could never taste the difference between a cabernet sauvignon, a merlot, a chardonnay, or anything else that was put in front of her.  People who did kind of freaked her out, only because it meant they had so much time on their hands that they could actually think about this sort of stuff.  Ah yes, I can smell the oak.  The taste of the cranberry is very pert.  Like, no you can’t.  All wine tasted the same to her.  It was all good.  

“Yeah, of course,” Morgan said, giving her a weird look.  “I wouldn’t bring you here if I didn’t.”

“So you can order for me, then?”

“Do you trust me?” he smirked.

It was a loaded question, sure, and there was a definite double entendre in the question and the way that he asked it (at least Bee thought so).  She knew everything was still new, and fresh, and she knew that it had only been a small amount of time since meeting him, but Morgan had never given her any reason not to trust him.  Was it perhaps a bit foolish on her part to trust him?  Maybe.  But right now, she did.  And she didn’t feel queasy about it.

Wait – they were talking about wine, right?

“I trust you,” she said, smiling back at him.  “I know nothing about wine.”

“You wanna get something to munch on?”

Bee hesitated.  She was already going to be forking out what looked like $15 for the cheapest, smallest amount of wine.  She never factored in that there was going to be food in this.  Morgan only said drinks.  “It’s okay,” she shook her head.

“Are you sure?”

She sighed.  “I um…I don’t mean to sound cheap but I can’t afford to eat out right now, so I’m gonna have to pass.  You can get something though.  I don’t mind.”

“Wait, what do you mean you can’t you afford it right now?”

She cringed.  “Because I’m a starving Master’s student, Morgan.”

“Briony.”

She couldn’t meet his eye, especially after her name rolled off his lips like that.  How could she?  Here was a guy who was taking her out on a date to an expensive wine bar and here she was, getting by on the littlest amounts.  “Listen, I’m basically living off of multiple scholarships right now.  I don’t exactly have the funds to eat out at fancy places like this,” she explained.  

Morgan looked at her as if she had three heads.  “Do you honestly think I would bring you to a place like this, on a date, knowing you’re a university student that’s been supporting yourself for years, and not pick up the tab?”

Bee felt tears lining her eyes for some reason.  “It’s not…it’s not about that,” she said, shaking her head, trying her hardest not to let her voice crack.  “It’s…”

“Briony, come on.  Why are you so nervous?”

He just had to use her full name again.  Had to.  “I’m not used to this.”

“You --”

“I hardly ever go out.  Because I can’t afford it.  And when I do go out, it’s definitely not to places like this.  We’re talking five dollar pitchers at the Green Room, not bottles of wine from Italy or Napa Valley.”

“Then --”

“And for that matter, I like to cook.  It’s like…I don’t know, my hobby.  I try to prep and make everything at home because it’s cheaper.  That way I’m not tempted to spend my money on food.  I know not a lot of people do that anymore but it’s how I survived growing up so I’m just used to it.”

“Then ignore everything else.  Ignore everything around you.  It’s just me.”  There was a moment of silence as Bee considered the words, and Morgan took the opportunity to reach across the table and grab her hand, clasping it tenderly.  “It’s just me, Briony.”

She nodded her head.  She knew that.  And he made it so simple.  There didn’t have to be all the bells and whistles.  She could ignore it.  For now, it was just Bee and Morgan.  “Do you mind letting me know about the wine a bit, then?”

He obliged readily.  For someone who worked in the sports industry, he sure knew a lot about wine, and he definitely knew what he liked.  The regions in Italy, the regions in France, his preferences which tended towards wines from Napa Valley – Bee clearly needed to re-evaluate what type of people liked wine and how much time Morgan had readily available to him.  She absorbed the information as much as possible, but she knew she would forget most of it after they left.

Soon enough, a professionally dressed waitress approached their table to take their order.  “What would you two like?”

“We’re gonna get the cabernet sauvignon…Pine Ridge from Napa Valley,” Morgan told the waitress.  Bee quickly scanned the menu to see the bottle was a whopping $120.  “And we’ll get the carpaccio, the bruschetta, the fromaggi platter, and some bread please.”  Bee’s eyes scanned the menu again, quickly adding up the prices of the platters.  She gulped.  “Thank you.”

All they did was talk.  They talked and talked and talked, and when the wine came out, and Bee took her first sip, it was good, and so she drank and they talked some more, and when the food came out, she ate some cheeses, and it was really good, and so she ate and they talked some more, and when the carpaccio and the bread came she paired all three together and it was heavenly, and so she enjoyed the food and wine and they talked even more.  Neither of them could stop talking.  Morgan revealed more about himself – how he grew up in West Vancouver, how he had an older brother, how his dad owned a lumber company and his mom owned a medical research company.  How happy his childhood was.  How he’d get up early to play hockey with his dad.  How he played at the country club (yes…a damn country club) growing up.  Bee didn’t think she’d ever met someone who was actually a member of a country club.  She couldn’t help but wonder what that was like.  

By the end of the night Bee was sure she had half a bottle of wine flowing through her veins.  She was by no means drunk, but she was definitely warm and fuzzy.  Definitely happy.  So when Morgan paid the bill and his hands wandered to her hips and the small of her back again as they walked out of the restaurant, she didn’t mind.  Actually, she wanted them to stay there.  And when he suggested he walk her home – the whole 45-minute walk home back up to the Annex, she could only nod her head and slip her hand into his as they walked up Spadina.  

He mentioned how he was going back to Vancouver for two weeks.  It was to see his parents, he said.  He hadn’t seen them in a while.  And his brother, of course.  And his beautiful golden lab, Maggie, his girl, that took up a majority of the camera roll on his phone.  Bee never had any pets growing up – they obviously couldn’t afford it.  But Bee promised herself that the second she could have enough disposable income she would get a pet.  Adopt a cat from the Humane Society or something.  

As they finally hit Bloor Street, Bee began to get nervous.  She started asking him if he’d ever been walking in the Annex (he had not) and if he’d ever want to (he did).  She noticed he slowed down his walking, and truth be told, she did too.  But the realization only made her more nervous.  And when she got nervous, she didn’t shut up.  It was a curse.  Just like her rambling about books, she was now rambling about the Annex.  She honestly couldn’t stop.  

“We’re coming up on mine now,” she said, nodding her head towards the house where her apartment was.

It was a massive house – one of the traditional Annex mansions that lined the streets and that people in Toronto paid millions upon millions for – but it looked older than some of the others in the neighbourhood that had been lovingly restored.  It wasn’t dilapidated by any means, but Morgan could tell that not a lot of care had gone in to maintaining the place – a shame, really, since these houses were relics of a bygone era.  They didn’t build houses like this anymore. 

Morgan tried to imagine Bee living here.  He tried to imagine her coming home from classes everyday, or her leaving with reusable grocery bags to do her weekly shop.  He tried to imagine her apartment.  Did she have a desk against the big bay window?  Was she on the main or second floor?  Was there still an original, working fireplace?  Did she use it?  But the more he tried to think, the more his thoughts were drowned out by her rambling voice.  What was she talking about?  At this point, he had no clue, but she was being so cute and he knew she did this all the time when she got nervous and, well, he was nervous too, because all he had wanted to do when he saw her at the beginning of their date was kiss her.  

She walked him through the gate and on to the front porch, but she wouldn’t quiet down.  “There’s, like, five apartments in here,” she said, looking up at the house.  “On the main floor there’s mine and the one in the back – it’s the same on the second floor obviously – and then there’s a small apartment on the third floor too.  The basement just has some storage rooms – laundry too, obviously – and, like, the furnace room…nothing special,” she babbled.  

He leaned in, needing her to stay silent for just a moment so he could collect his thoughts.  “Briony?” he mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you now?”

“Oh!”  She loved that he asked permission, but she was stupid.  She was so, so stupid.  “Of course.”

Morgan kissed Bee the way she had always wanted to be kissed: soft at first, with a gentleness that could deceive you, but with a streak desire that exuded like a flame.  As she was a willing participant and readily reciprocating, he continued to kiss her, his hands wandering to her waist and down her hips, settling on the small of her back before pulling her body closer to his.  

It turned into a full-blown make-out session before Bee had to stop for air.  Morgan’s eyes remained closed as she tried to catch her breath.  

It was late.  He had a plane to catch tomorrow morning to go home.

“Have fun in Vancouver,” she whispered, moving to unlock the front door.

Morgan’s eyes shot open.  “What?”

“Goodnight,” she smiled.

“Nonononono,” he pulled her back against him, giving her another kiss.  She reciprocated again, but pulled away quicker than Morgan liked.  

“You have an early flight tomorrow.”

“I don’t care.”

“Goodnight,” she smiled, pushing the door in.

“Briony.”

“Goodnight.”

“Briony!”

As she shut the door, he chuckled to himself.  This was going to be a long trip back to Vancouver.

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly fic #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs #alone together series

[littlelovelyspiderling]

Doc Oc

This has been stuck in my brain so I had to write it...sorry for not answering a lot of requests, I promise to get to them soon!! (also if you want to be tagged on my writing stuff just let me know!)

Peter is captured by Doctor Octopus. While trying to get the young hero to talk, the evil scientists learns a few interesting facts about New York’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. 

word count: 4,100

Peter had faced Doc Oc plenty of times before, but never four nights in a row. He was in the middle of a much-needed nap when the psycho eight-limbed scientist suddenly popped up on the news again, terrorizing the citizens of downtown Queens again, and demanding an audience with Spider-Man—again. This guy would not give him a break. Peter had bested him four times, but four times he had slipped from his and the police’s grasp. On top of early school days, mounds of homework, and a slew of new Avengers missions, it was really wearing him down. Peter groaned, threw on his spandex suit, and begrudgingly swung out to the scene, blinking the sleepiness from his eyes.

Doctor Octopus chucked a car down the street, narrowly missing a group of terrified bystanders. His metal arms spit sparks across the pavement with every massive step.

“Bring me Spider-Man!” he cried, laughing maniacally. Spider-Man flipped off a building and on to a streetlamp, stifling a yawn.

“Alright, alright, I’m here, freak show.” Doc Oc turned on him, grinning fiendishly. Peter scrubbed a hand over his face. “Seriously man, how many times are we gonna do this? Can’t you just go to jail already? Or take a day off? Start a new Netflix series maybe? I’ve heard Nailed It is stellar. Or, I don’t know, do something more constructive with your time besides dragging a very grumpy superhero out of bed every night to whoop your ass for the millionth time this week?”

“Do not fret, arachnid,” Octavius assured him, rising high on his mechanical limbs. “This ends tonight.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what you said yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, so don’t mind me as I continue to fret most ardent—ah!”

A tentacle swung at him, whooshing beneath his feet as he leapt over it. Spider-Man whipped around the light post and dropped to the ground, landing low to the asphalt. Not even a second later, another arm came flying for his face. He rolled this time, the clawed hand barely nicking his shoulder as it whipped overhead. The sharp sting made him hiss. He sprung on to the side of a building and fired a glob of webbing mid-leap, but it missed the evil doctor by a mile. His movements felt sluggish, uncoordinated. Oh crap. The consequences of three nights without proper sleep were really starting to take their toll—and it was not cheap.

He shook his head, fighting to clear the fog from his brain, but it refused to dissipate. His muscles, too, felt tired and limp. Spider-Man ran along the side of the building and threw himself at Octavius, fist wound back, teeth gritted, only to get knocked sideways and thrown into a wall. His head hit first, sending a jolt rattling through his skull. He slumped to the ground, jarred and dazed, the fog creeping into the edges of his vision. A shadow loomed over him, smiling like the grim reaper coming to claim his soul.

“My, my, Spider-Man. One hit, and you’re already out for the count? I expected better from you.”

“You…planned this,” Peter realized, staggering to his feet. “Drawing me out late every night…never letting me rest.” His eyes felt heavy in his head. All he wanted was to sleep. The world was spinning like a carousel. “Y-you…son of a—”

A tentacle whacked him on the temple. Spider-Man was out before he hit the ground.

Light was what finally woke him. Harsh, white, aimed directly in his eyes. He blinked and squinted, groaning in protest, scrunching up his nose and furrowing his brow.

“Took you long enough,” a familiar voiced groused. “I was almost worried I had rendered you comatose.”

The light moved away. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes, letting himself take in the room. Doc Oc was standing in front of him, looking irritated. Gradually, his brain switched back on, and the situation dawned on him. Oh no. Oh god. He…he had been kidnapped. By Doctor frickin' Octopus. That was red flag number one.

Next, Peter gazed around, noting the boring gray walls and strange equipment lining the tables. It seemed he was in some sort of lab, the dark and clammy and evil secret lair type. Red flag number two.

Red flag number three came when he tried to move. Because, well, he couldn’t. Peter looked down and discovered he was suspended upright on a large metal board in the shape of an ‘X’. His arms and legs were pinned to the board by thick metal clasps, thicker than the width of his wrists. The realization launched his heart into his throat. Spider-Man was captured and restrained. By his absolute worst nemesis. A man who spent more time plotting to murder him than most normal people spent working a day job. Terror welled like lava in his stomach. Peter couldn’t stop himself from immediately trying to wrench free. He knew he looked pathetic, weak, desperate, but he hated the feeling of being trapped. And he was dead if he didn't escape.

Yet try as he might, the bonds were too strong. Doctor Octopus chuckled.

“Valiant efforts, arachnid. But I’m afraid you’ve been caught. Not even the Hulk could break those restraints. No use wasting your energy on so hopeless a feat.”

Eventually, Peter stopped struggling, gasping in frustration. “L-let me go,” he growled. He cursed the tremble in his voice.

“I’ve spent this entire week orchestrating your capture, and then I’ve had to sit here waiting for you to wake up for the past twelve hours. I’ll pass, thanks.”

Spider-Man swallowed. I’ve been asleep for twelve hours? At least he’d gained back some of the rest he’d lost. His newfound alertness and the lack of pain in his skull seemed to confirm Doc’s claim. Still, what good did that do for him now? He lowered his head, fear throbbing through his system in sync with his rapid heartbeat. Peter Parker was totally and utterly screwed.

“What do you want? Why haven’t you just killed me?”

“Curious how all your childish quips dry up so quickly once you find yourself beat,” Octavius sneered, approaching him. Peter pressed as close to the metal ‘X’ as he could, unable to back away. “I like seeing this side of you. Helpless, trapped, too terrified to even crack your pathetic little jokes. Completely at my will and mercy. Why, I could slice open your gut and let your entrails spill across the floor, and all you could is watch. Isn’t this exciting?”

His breaths came out in choppy huffs. He pulled ferociously at his bonds. They didn’t budge.

Peter Parker was on his deathbed. That was certain. But Spider-Man couldn't let him win. Not yet.

“Very exciting,” Peter eventually agreed, slumping against the boards, forcing his voice to level out. “I’ve, uh—I’ve always wanted to know if my third grade science teacher has been right all these years—that I’m perfect both inside and out.”

The side of Doc Oc’s mouth twitched. “Hm. The comedian returns. Amusing.” He rose up on two of his metal limbs to stand eye-level with Spider-Man. “But trust me, arachnid: he won’t last long.”

Peter waited for him to stab him, strike him, skewer him like a shish kabob. Instead, the evil scientist turned away, meandering up to a table across the room. Peter breathed a slow sigh of relief.

“And to answer your earlier questions, I was paid a handsome sum of cash to capture you from a person I’d best not name. Quite a handsome sum, enough to fund my research for years. Half up front, and the next half once I hand you over to him.” He sifted through the tools on the table, examining each one with delicate and ominous interest. Peter watched, fear shivering across his skin. “But this person is not expecting your presence until tomorrow morning, which gives me plenty of time to ask you some of my burning questions, and to pull the truth out of you using a few…persuasion methods.”

Mr. Stark had warned him that this might happen some day. The more he tried to protect the world, the more powerful the enemies that would rise against him. Nearly all of the Avengers had been in this position at some point in their career. Now it was his turn to be strong. Spider-Man summoned all the courage he could muster up from within his little body.

“Sorry, but your bedside manners suck, Doc. I’m not telling you anything.”

Doctor Octopus lifted a drill-like contraption from the table, a sinister grin on his lips. “We shall see how stubborn your resolve is after I tear the muscle from your bones fiber by individual fi—”

The ring of a cell phone interrupted him, causing both Peter and Otto to jump. Octavius grumbled to himself, yanking the phone from his pocket, and frowned at the screen before answering.

“Hello?” he snapped, then immediately sobered up. “Oh, um, hello sir. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. Yes, yesterday evening. The plan worked marvelously.”

“Who’s that?” Peter asked. Doctor Octopus ignored him.

“Yes, of course. I’ll have him to you tomorrow. Where’s he now? Here, in my lab, preparing to face the interrogation of a lifetime.”

Doc Oc shot a smug glare in his direction, making Peter stiffen, then turned back towards the wall.

“Harm him? Well, obviously, sir. How else am I to get him to talk?”

A voice warbled back at him from the phone. Otto’s expression immediately fell, replaced by anger and confusion.

“What? But sir, you never said…ugh.” He dumped the drill on the table, pouting like a child. “Alright. Yes, I understand. Not a scratch. See you tomorrow.”

Octavius slipped the phone back into his coat, then slowly turned to face him. He flexed his hands at him sides and held his shoulders tight.

“It seems you’ve had a stroke of luck, arachnid. The man who wants you needs you fully intact. While you are in my custody, I can’t harm you.”

Peter lit up. “Wait, really? Ha! Suck it, Doc!” Then he frowned, tilting his head to the side. “Wait, why?”

“He didn’t say. But I wouldn’t celebrate so hastily, Spider-Man.” He lifted closer to him. His eyes were cold and dark. “There are plenty of means of torture that don’t require bodily harm.”

This was his chance to think his way out of here. He had to buy himself some time. Peter cleared his throat.

“Well, you better hurry and come up with one, Doc. You know, before the Avengers show up here and kick your ass.”

Otto rolled his eyes. “The Avengers will never find this place, you idiot.”

“Yes they will. They’ll track my phone.”

“I destroyed your phone as soon as I caught you.”

Peter’s jaw dropped. “What? Doc! Not cool, man. I know it was a piece of crap, but it was my piece of crap!”

“Shut it, you blabbering moron!”

Peter grinned. Now he was back in the game.

“My suit has a tracker too, genius. They’re going to find me, and I promise they won’t go easy on you, even if you are a fat, ugly loser living in a garbage can.”

The doctor scoffed. “You’re lying. I disabled your suit. And if there was, my sensors would have picked it up.”

“Not this one. Tony Stark made it. It’s teeny-tiny and puts out a signal only he can track.”

Peter was lying, of course. Tony hadn’t made any tracker of the kind, at least not to his knowledge. If his suit was offline, which seemed to be the case, the tracker that was in it was offline too. Still, Doc Oc didn’t need to know that. Slowly, the color drained from the scientist’s face.

“Where is it?” he hissed. His metal arms flew at Spider-Man, searching for the hidden device. “Tell me where it is, now!”

The two mechanical claws started grabbing at Peter’s legs and midsection in their hunt for tracker, causing him to cringe. The sensation was not what he was expecting, and before he knew it, a massive wave of laughter was building behind his lips. He managed to stay quiet for a few more seconds, clenching his jaw, coiling his muscles, until one of the tentacles squeezed his side. Spider-Man flinched and yelped, making Octavius start.

“What was that? Is the tracker there?” His metal claw tweaked the same spot. Peter squeaked.

“Quihit it! It’s too small to find!”

“Then why are you so jumpy all of a sudden?”

Spider-Man didn’t answer, his face heating up beneath his mask. Doc Oc narrowed his eyes. To Peter’s dismay, the prongs returned to his ribs and began kneading at them experimentally. Despite his attempts to fight it, high-pitched giggles slipped through his defenses — and once the seal was broken, he couldn’t make them stop. Doc blinked in surprise as Peter jerked away from the contact.

“Ahaha hey!  Stohop it, you psycho!” He giggled and squirmed until Octavius withdrew his arm, leaving him panting and flushed pink.

“Ah, I see now. You’re not worried about me finding any device. You’re just ticklish.”

The redness in his cheeks bled through the rest of his body. After having Tony Stark discover how unbearably sensitive he was, Peter thought the worst of the embarrassment was behind him. What could possibly be more humiliating than having your biggest idol find out that one poke to the tummy rendered Spider-Man a giggly, useless blob?

Your biggest nemesis, that’s what.

Peter suddenly felt hyperaware of how vulnerable he was. Doctor Octopus could sense his discomfort, which mirrored how he’d been acting earlier: twitchy, anxious, devoid of chatter or childish jokes. An evilly knowing glint entered the scientist’s eyes.

“You seem tense, Spider-Man. I told you I’m not allowed to harm you, so why are on edge again?”

The young hero swallowed, shifting against the ‘X’. “W-well, that doesn’t change the fact that I’m imprisoned by a maniac and strapped to a freezing cold board like a dead carcass about to get an autopsy. You try getting comfortable on this thing. Not exactly the spa day I’ve been meaning to treat myself with, Doc.”

“You were acting perfectly at ease until I brushed you here.” He pointed towards the spot with one of his mechanical claws, causing Spider-Man to flinch sharply. “Are you really that sensitive?”

Peter stared sideways with a nervous cough. “Uh…no…?”

“So you don’t mind if I do this?”

Before he could squeak out a protest, the metal prongs zipped to his side. It was comical how violently the contact made him jump, and how quickly laughter succeeded it.

“Ack! Oho c-crahap! Nohoho!” Good god, he was in trouble. Now that he was tickling him on purpose, it was so much worse. The robotic fingers were stiff and icy, kneading his ticklish torso with machine-like precision and cruelty. Different than how hands felt, but no less maddening—perhaps even more so. As they moved up his side, pinching each individual rib, Peter’s laughter climbed.

“Now that I think about it, this works out marvelously. Although the method is rather…unconventional, I can still get you to talk without having to physically harm you.” He dropped the claw back down to his belly, making Spider-Man wince and squeal. “Now tell me, arachnid: where does Stark keep his research on nano-technology, and how can I get ahold of it?”

Uh-oh. Peter had been hoping he’d ask him something he had no clue about, like where Hawkeye had been for the last two years or what size underwear the Hulk wore. Unfortunately, he knew the exact location of the hard drive Mr. Stark kept all of his nano-tech information on, because he’d been letting Peter work on it with him in the lab.

But he couldn’t let Doc Oc know that.

“W-whahat? I dohohon’t know! I have noho idea!” He angled his body as far from mechanical fingers as he could manage, giggling hysterically. “This ihis rihidiculous! Let me gohoho!”

Octavius smiled at the helpless hero. “Not until you tell me what I want to know.”

To Peter’s horror, a second metal hand pounced on his defenseless torso, squeezing his other side and tickling his tummy. Now there was absolutely no escaping the tickle torture, and it was twice as unbearable. Poor Spider-Man shrieked and laughed, thrashing and jerking and throwing his head back.

“Nohohohaha! Ahahahahasshole!” He hated how much Doc’s evil plan was working. He was already desperate to make the cruel tickling stop. The metal prongs continued to knead and claw at the teen’s sensitive midsection, increasing their speed and intensity with every passing second. Peter’s sides ached as he giggled wildly, endlessly.

“Cursing?” Octavius teased. “That’s awfully out-of-character for our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” He moved both arms to his ribs, drilling them with tickles and sending the superhero into a twitchy frenzy. He had to admit, it was odd to see the renowned wall-crawler reduced to such a pathetically helpless position. It was even odder to see how effective tickle torture was on someone with such a high pain tolerance. In all of their brawls and battles, he had never considered utilizing so frivolous a tactic. There was something strangely…endearing about it. Spider-Man could take four nights of beat-downs, but hardly two minutes of tickling? His laughter was so high-pitched and childlike; it made the doctor begin to wonder how old he actually was.

Meanwhile, Peter was hanging on by fraying threads. He bucked and squirmed and shook his head, giggles pouring from his lips. “Dohoc plehehehehehease!” he cried. He wasn’t sure if begging for mercy would increase or dampen Doc Oc’s thirst for brutality, but at this point, it was his only option. “I d-dohon’t know ahanythihing! Mihister Stahahark hasn’t shohohown me! I dohohon’t—I cahan’t—oho gahahaEEEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAA!”

Mid-sentence, Doc’s sinister claws crept up to his armpits and started scribbling experimentally against the hollows. Spider-Man all but lost it, wrenching with every ounce of his strength and peeling into loud, hiccup-filled bouts of uncontrollable laughter. Octavius couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Oh dear, have I found your weak spot?” he asked. The deadly prongs burrowed deeper into his underarms, eliciting yelps and squeaks from the poor hero. “Maybe I’ll just hang around here until you start talking.”

Peter was certain he would die if the tickling didn’t stop. Maybe he could survive a few more minutes of it in other places — belly, sides, ribs — but his armpits? Nope. They were too damn sensitive for him to bear. Where the hell were the Avengers? A part of him hoped they didn’t come, because this would be very embarrassing to have to explain. The rest of him was too worn down to care.

He had to tell him. He had to. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t!

“STAHAPSTAHAHAPSTAHAHAHAP!” he pleaded through tears. “I SWEHEHEHEAR! I DOHOHON’T KNOHOHOHOW! AHAHAHAHAHADOHOHOCSHIHIHIHIHITPLEHEHEHEHEASE!” His words were swallowed by painful hiccups that racked his entire frame. At this point, he could hardly even make a sound, he was laughing so hard. Octavius shook his head amusedly.

“I’m not an idiot, arachnid,” he said. The tentacles suddenly withdrew from his underarms, leaving Peter dazed and reeling with incredible relief. “I know you know where they are.”

Weak giggles spilled continuously from his mouth as he fought to catch his breath. “Ehehe…ahehehe…oho my god.” He hung limply from the metal ‘X’. “Noho, I…no I dohon’t…”

“You do,” Doc insisted. “It’s funny how effective this is on you. It’s almost cute.”

Peter wanted to punch his smug face in so bad right now. If he could just get out of these stupid restraints…

Before he had a chance to try, one of Octavius’ metal arms reached up and grabbed hold of his mask.

“I nearly forgot; I can see who you are now. Why wasn’t that the first thing I did? Silly me.”

Panic flooded Peter’s system. “No—Doc—wait—!”

It was no use. In an instant, Octavius ripped the mask from his head. Just like that, his cover was blown. Slowly, he met Doc’s gaze, eyes wide and afraid.

After soaking in the true face of his archenemy, Doc felt a sick twist in his stomach. “You’re…a child,” he finally said. The Spider-Man mask fell from his claw.

Peter’s face was still red from laughing; his eyes still shone with tears. He was at a loss for words.

“You’re telling me I’ve been fighting a child all this time? Spider-Man is just some kid? I was planning to break every bone in your body, for crap’s sake. I was going to sell you to be experimented on.”

Peter swallowed and stared at the floor. “I’m not…a child…”

“How old are you?” he asked. When Spider-Man didn’t answer, his metal hands jumped back to his torso. Peter shrieked.

“AHAHAHEHAHAHAHA!” His laughter was even more adorable when his face was visible, and you could see the giant smile that overtook his features. “NOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHACAHAHAHAHAN’T!”

“If you tell me, I’ll release you,” Doc said. Peter didn't care that he was probably lying. He immediately crumbled.

“FIHIHEFIFTEHEHEHEEN! I’M FIHIHIFTEHEHEHEHEEHEEN!” He realized too late he could’ve just lied. But Doctor Octopus had seen his face; by now he could probably look him up and easily find the answer.

Slowly, the mechanical tentacles relinquished their tickle attack. Peter melted with relief, giggling breathlessly.

“You’re fifteen?” Doc Oc gawked. Spider-Man didn’t understand why it was so shocking. An eight-year-old was a child, not him! Huffing in frustration, Octavius slammed one of his arms against the panel of buttons in front of him.

With a click, the clasps on his wrists and ankles suddenly opened. Peter dropped to the ground, landing on his hands and knees.

“A teenager has no business being involved with superheroes or criminals or anything like this. Even I know that. Go home, and never interfere with my operations again.”

Peter fought to shake the remaining laughter from his voice. “Y-you, heh, can’t really expect me to listen to you, can you Doc? I’m not gonna stop fighting you just cuz you suddenly decided to develop some weird, skewed morality.”

Octavius hinted a smile. “Are you sure about that, Spidey?” he asked, feigning innocence. Before Peter could react in time, four metal limbs lunged at him, pinning him to the ground and tickling his tummy and underarms with merciless cruelty. Spider-Man exploded into hysterical laughter, kicking and squirming but unable to escape the evil scientist’s hold. No matter how much he tickled him, the young hero’s tolerance for it never grew.

“Because if you don’t listen, then perhaps I’ll just have to do this every time you show up to try and stop me. Not a very heroic look on you, is it?”

Not even Spider-Man’s greatest nemesis was immune to the web-slinger’s endearing aura. Like everyone else that knew him, Doc couldn’t get over how adorable the kid was when he was reduced to a puddle of helpless laughter.

As Spider-Man giggled and squealed and struggled vainly to break free, a crash sounded from the room next door. Octavius fled the evil lair as quick as a flash; Peter didn’t even see which way he went. He laid flat on the floor, trying to catch his breath, hugging his aching sides.

The back door burst from its hinges and careened across the floor. Peter jolted upright as Iron Man, Black Widow, War Machine, and Cap came rushing into the room.

“Peter?” Tony cried, the helmet dissolving off his face. He landed beside him and laid a hand on his back. “Kid, are you alright?”

“Is he hurt?” Cap asked, jogging up to join the group. Tony gave Peter’s shoulders a shake.

“Kid, answer me. Are you okay?”

He was having trouble processing everything that had just transpired. When he opened his mouth, his ears reddened.

“I, uh, yeah. I’m fine.” He blinked, rubbing unconsciously at his giggle-filled belly. “How’d you find me? Doc disabled my suit.”

“You think I left your suit with just one tracker? After that stunt you pulled with the ferry?” He helped him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his back.

“Where is it?” Peter asked.

“Lucky for you, it’s too small to find.” Tony poked him playfully in the tummy, as he’d started doing now that he knew how well it worked in cheering the kid up. Peter yelped with laughter and buried himself into Stark’s side.  

“Plehease please plehehease don’t,” he wheezed listlessly. Once the giggling started up again, he couldn’t make it stop. “I cahan’t—you don’t—eheheh.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tony chuckled. Peter was giggling too much to reply.

#ticklish!peter #avengers tickling #ticklish!spiderman #ticklish!spidey #ticklish!peter parker #sfw tickle fic #sfw tickling #mcu #marvel tickle fic #marvel #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman tickle #spiderman homecoming #sm:hc #peter parker #peter parker tickle #iron dad #irondad #iron man #tony stark #fluff #spiderson #spider son #marvel fic #spider-man #marvel tickle #marvel cinematic universe #spiderman ffh #spiderman fic

[queenofthearchitect]

Got caught

This is a smut just for @darkxhuntress she’s going to kill me later lol so I’ll just kill her now lol

@flickkick @starstar1012

Warnings: rough sex, cussing, spakinging (definitely had to add that), oral, choking.

A/N: part 6 of Dawn Of Love will be our later. Tomorrow I’m posting a Seth Fluff to 😊😉

Please enjoy 🧜🏼‍♀️

I left pole dancing class my daily work out was done, Seth had no idea that I was doing pole dance work outs and i don’t intened on him finding out, I was wearing a Seth freakin’ Rollins tank top and some black spanks. I got in my car and typed in the address to Starbucks and started driving my phone dinged from three notification and two was from twitter and one was a text from Seth, when I decided not to open them and wait until I got to Starbucks to look at them.

When I finally got there I got out and walked inside, I ordered a s’mores Frappuccino and I paid while I was waiting for them to make it, I decided to look see what I was getting tagged in and what Seth wanted, he knew I was working out he just didn’t know about the pole dancing part, I looked at his message first and I felt a knot in my stomach when I read it.

Teddy bear: you’re in big trouble when you get home.

Me: promises, promises, who says your not in trouble when I get home 😏🤤💦

I smirked and I got a great idea I went to the Starbucks bath room and locked the door, I took my tank top off and I adjusted my bra and I slipped one of the straps on my arm and bit my lip and took a picture. I put my bra strap where it was suppose to go and put my tank back on and I exited the bath room they called my name for my Frappuccino and I grabbed it and smiled I quickly sent the picture to Seth and got in my car. My car informed me I got a message from teddy bear and I told my car to read it to me “you’re getting it when you get home so don’t make plans for the rest of the day.” My car read to me and I chuckled to myself.

I quickly drove home smartly taking the back roads so I could avoid traffic, I pulled in our driveway and turned my car off and quickly Jumped out my suv and lovely my doors I went inside and Seth was right there waiting for me, “Y/N you’ve been a very bad girl and now daddy has to punish you.” I gulped while he got closer he smashed our lips together, when we pulled apart I looked at him. “W-what did I do?” He growled at me “letting other see you dressed like that he growled and slapped the spandex against my skin and I gasped.

“I didn’t know anyone was looking.” He smirked his eyes grew darker with lust and he kissed me and pulled my bottom lip between his lips and growled, “go upstairs and wait for me now and you better listen or I’ll punish you even more than I planned on before.” I nodded my head and slowly walked up stairs. He called out “Y/N better yet come show me what you learned at that pole dancing class.” I nodded my head and walked back downstairs “he pulled me closer and smacked my ass “I expect a response when I’m talking to you. understand?” I nodded “y-yes sir.” He sat on the couch and I turned on some music and I kicked my shoes off, I sat on his lap and I felt his semi-hard on.

I slowly circled my His and he threw his head back but he started kissing my neck and then all of a sudden he ripped my tank top off of me. I stood up on the couch and he lifted his head to look at me I put his head on my thigh and started giving his face a lap dance and he groaned against my thigh, and I started to get wet while he sucked and licked my thigh. “Shit.” I mumbled softly he smirked at me “I’m going to fuck you three ways from Sunday.” He pulled me back down and I was still giving him his lap dance he growled at me when I got on the floor and kissed the tent in his sweat pants.

I started pulling at the band of his sweat pants and underwear he lifted himself up so I could get his pants down his hard dick smacked against his stomach and I licked my lips I kissed the bottom of his shaft and worked my way up to the head of his dick I kissed the pre cum off of it and lick it “baby if you don’t stop teasing I’m going to have to-“ He stopped talking when I took him in my mouth his hand found its way in my hair and he stood up, I’ve started thirst fucking me and I gagged a few times. I hollowed my cheeks and he moaned loud. “Fuck Y/N keep doing that.”

About 5 minutes passed and he pulled me off of him “I need you stop cause you’re not getting off that easy.” I mentally cussed myself. He stood up and got naked and walked upstairs I quickly followed I walked in our bed room and Seth threw me on the bed “now bed over and don’t move.” Seth growled “you know I don’t like punishing you but I have to.” I heard Seth grab a belt and he popped it and I jumped slightly. I mentally prepared myself to get spanked and Seth cracked the leather belt across my ass and making me yelp he gave me two more crack with the belt and then he rubbed my Ass.

After my ass quit tingling he pushed me on the bed and spread my legs open and he slid my spanx and my panties down and moaned “damn baby your soaked.” He went down on me and I moaned “s-seth please don’t stop.” He raised his head and smirked “you’re not allowed to cum until I say so got it?” I nodded my head and he gave my vagina a nice pop “answer me when I’m talking to you or do I need to get the belt.” I shook my head no “I’m s-s-sorry daddy I’ve been bad today and I want your punishment.” He smirked “good cause you were going to get punished either way today.”

He slurped and nibbled on me and I groaned really loud “that’s it baby let the neighbors hear you.” S-seth I’m going to cum soon.” He raised his head and growled “no your not.” He pulled me up and told me to go stand in front of the full body mirror, I did as I was told and my eyes widened there were bite marks, hickeys and bruises all over me, “god he was being so rough and I didn’t even notice it, and we haven’t even gotten fully started yet.” I thought to myself he entered me and I moaned “I want you to see how you look when we fuck and I why you drive me crazy.” I tighten against him and he threw his head back and groaned “fuck Y/N.”

His his snapped against me causeing my whole body to go forward and I held on to the mirror and I looked at the ground, Seth started leaving marks all over my neck, and he bit my sweet spot and I curled my toes “h-holy shit.” You feel so good in me seth.” He laughed at me “I-imagine how you feel b-babe.” I moaned Seth I-I don’t know how much longer I can hold on to t-this orgasm.” He softly kissed my neck and mumbled “it’s okaybaby just let go.” My toes curled and I moaned as loudly as I came around him, he made me look at myself the hole time and he bit my earlobe and he quickened his pace slamming his hips against me and I moaned but nothing came out I tightened around him and he groaned and shot his load in me, and he pulled out and turned me towards him and smashed our lips together, “go get something to drink we aren’t done we are going to fuck until I get tired.” “Yes sir.” I started walking towards the door when he slapped my ass “round two is in the shower.”

A/N: I hope this was good lol, I keep getting distracted so yeet, but I love y’all mores coming.

#seth freakin rollins #seth rollins fan fic #seth rollins imagine #seth rollins x reader #seth rollins #seth rollins smut #wwe #wwe imagine #amandawrites #wwe x reader #Got Caught