#these motherfuckers either make me cry my eyes out or have me jumping around the house in pure joy

[milesworld96]

The bisexuals just keep on giving huh

#aew #mjf #maxwell jacob friedman #the devil #Kenny omega #golden lovers #adamjf #these motherfuckers either make me cry my eyes out or have me jumping around the house in pure joy

[d0g0r0t]

HEYYYYUYY I loved ur Toby put in the silly bin post. Can u make a follow up post on when he  escapes and finds his s/o? If not an NSFW Toby HCs? PLEASEEE TYTYTYTY <33

When Toby got institutionalized Pt2

TW: suicidal thoughts. Death. Nfsw.

Pt 1

Pt 3

OMG I LOVE THIS U GUYS SO CREATIVE!!!!!

Part 1 on my page :D

He couldn't do anymore. He had enough

It was either he got the fuck out of here or suicide.

He missed you so much and the fact he was stuck in this dumb human zoo unable to see his one and only

He HAD to get out

He was going insane, sure he was already insane but not having you in his arms and not having you in sight at all times made him snap.....Again

A few minutes before lights out he took his chance. Quickly tackling a female nurse and taking advantage of her weakness. he quickly stole the pocket knifes all workers carried and without a second thought killed her with one clean slice

The screams and yelling echoed the room as he quickly stood up and saw nurses surroundings him. But the one he went after was the poor old lady who was calling security

Stab after stab one by one body's were dropping and the white walls soon turned a deep red.

The screams slowly faded out as he was left standing there with body's all around.

Oh but he wasn't done yet

Not at all

Slowly walking down to the main office almost jumping with excitement as he let out deep and cracked laughs

Barging open the door he sees the head of the facility

"You.... motherfucker HOW DARE YOU TAKING ME AWAY FROM HER!?"

With in seconds he was over the desk and straggling him with all his might almost able to snap his neck

Watching his face turned blue as he let out struggled cracks and sobs put a smile on his face

Seeing the man go limp in his chair he quickly grabbed the keys and he was out... he actually did HE ACTUALLY FUCKING GOT OUT!

Frantically running threw the door almost slipping on his way out he ran as fast as he could threw the forest to find you...

Finding you..

_______________________________

Panting like a exhausted dog he finally stumbles his way to flimler territory

"Y/n..."

He mumbled out to himself. Looking around the forest in sight of anyone at this point. It was dark and foggy and he could feel tears stream from his cheeks becoming panicked that he couldn't find you

"Y/N!!..."

He sobbed out loudly. Feeling his knees going weak and giving out on him as he ran threw the woods like a mad man. His breathing becoming hyper.

"Y/N WHERE ARE YOU!!!!..."

"Toby?...."

Turning around and seeing you.. seeing your gorgeous hair seeing those tried and soft eyes of yours seeing your gentle hands... he stared at you like it was a dream.

He quickly ran over to you, tackling you to the ground in a tight hug. The wind being knocked out of you as he wrapped himself around you. Trembling and so happy to see you

"Y/n...."

He cried out. Feeling all those pent up emotionals you've been holding finally pouring out of you as you hugged him tightly letting out happy crys.

He placed weak and quick kisses all over your face and down your neck as he laid on top of you like a puppy.

"I-I missed you s-s-so much.."

He whimpered against your cheeks as he let out soft cries finally coming down. Running your fingers threw his hair as you returned the kisses along his forehead. You couldn't help but smile with every kiss you plant

NSFW TIME!*@,@>,$

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

After you two calm down he instantly RAILED you in the middle of the forest.

He honestly had to he was so painfully hard

He would grab at your body taking chuncks of your flesh in both hands as he pins you up against a nearby tree

Praising you and giving a a handful of compliments

"Oh God your so pretty" "you take me so well" "please. You feel so good"

Yk 😋 just silly Toby things

He can't get enough of you. Drinking you in like a depressant

He trys his best not to hurt you but being away from you for so long he couldn't help but slammed himself balls deep in you.

He would be on the verge of tears you feel so good. Whimpering and whining as you take him so well

His hands would be shaking and all over you. Grabbing your chest and ass and hair.

He would leave so many kisses on your skin. Your like his little dessert. You were so sweet to him!

He would wrap his arms around your waist and moan in your ear as he pounds you in the tree

Bros a little silly

_______________________________

ANYWAYS THANK U 4 THE REQUEST SORRY IF ITS NOT THE BEST! AND SORRY THIS IS SO LONG 💀

#ticci toby x reader #toby rogers #ticci toby #creepypasta #x reader #slenderman

[mercy-burning]

Affection

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer and Y/N decidedly hate each other. But when a near-death experience puts one of them in a coma, their mutual hatred might have to take a backseat— Or will it? Category: Angst / Happy Ending! + Humor and a lil bit of Fluff Content: Strong language, Reader is in a coma, mentions of injury, kissing Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This one’s for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) September Writing Challenge, Enemies To Lovers! I have another one coming up as well, but this idea wouldn’t get out of my head ever since I watched The Abyss with my dad and I had to get it out 😅 I hope you like it!!

———

I swear to fucking God, if this motherfucker really thinks he—

That was the last thing Y/N thought before she was knocked out cold.

With her line of work, it was natural to assume that she was thinking about the unsub, but unfortunately the criminal she and her team were tracking down was the farthest thing on her mind. Spencer would have chastised her for it— letting something else cloud her thoughts while she was in a dark alley, alone, and with a serial killer on the loose.

"You should be smarter than that!" she could hear him say in that high pitch he always carried when he was upset— especially with her. "If you don't get yourself killed one of these days, then it'll be the rest of us!"

Thinking about it made her blood boil.

"It's your fault," she wanted to tell him. "I had to blow off some steam because you were pissing me off!"

The only thing was... She couldn't tell him.

Well... She could.

He just couldn't hear her, because no one could.

It was like some stupid, cliché movie, where you found yourself standing over your dying body and having to choose whether to live or not. It seemed like the obvious choice, to fucking live, but... Y/N found herself wandering around her hospital room, yelling into the void and attempting to jump back into her own body.

Nothing was working.

And when Spencer showed up, his face red and his hair and clothes all messed up, she wanted to scream at him.

"Hey!"

Nothing. He was practically lifeless as he drifted to the chair next to her bed and sat down. It was nearly impossible to read from his expression and body language how he was feeling, and that alone was enough to make her angry again. (Not that the anger had really gone away since waking up next to her comatose body, of course.)

"Hey! Dumbass!"

Still nothing.

As Spencer just blankly stared down at Y/N's bed, she decided she'd had enough.

"SPENCER FUCKING REID, IF YOU DON'T HELP ME RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL HAUNT YOUR ASS UNTIL THE END OF ETERNITY, AND I'M GONNA LAY FAT, STINKIN' GHOST SHITS IN YOUR SHOES, DO YOU HEAR ME? AND—"

"I hate you."

It was a bold enough statement to stop Y/N in her tracks, no matter how quietly he'd mumbled it. She knew for sure that he didn't like her, after years of constant bickering and dirty glares and whatever else, but... The word 'hate' was like a knife that sliced through her joking rage and stopped the whole world around her.

If she wasn't already out of her own body, she just knew she would have felt her soul leave.

Spencer didn't hate anyone. Not that she was aware of, anyway. He found nearly everyone delightful, and vice versa... But for some reason, he hated Y/N.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, well... Feeling's mutual, I guess..."

"You're stupid, and reckless, and you don't think. And you're a goddamn nightmare to work with... You know what— You're a stone-cold bitch."

His words made her physically step backwards, and it felt like if she were a cartoon, there might have been steam coming out of her ears.

"Yeah, well jokes on you, you make it easy," she seethed. "Fuck you!"

"How... How dare you..." he continued, anger reddening his face.

Y/N watched as he balled his fists and leaned in a little closer to her body, his voice tight and strained. "How dare you walk into my life and boss me around and make it impossible to breathe... From the moment I met you, you've brought out this... this fire in me that I can't put out no matter how hard I try, and it's insufferable—You're insufferable, and I hate you, how dare—"

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a shortness of breath. Spencer breathed in, loud and choked, and the next breath he let out was nothing short of a sob. His eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down them and his hands clutched the bedsheets with a vigor and rage that Y/N had never seen from him, even in all the years she'd spent visibly getting on his last nerves.

"N—No," she choked out, feeling her throat tighten. "Don't... Don't turn into a sappy mess on me now, do you hear me, Reid? You hate me, don't... Don't..."

"I don't hate you," he whispered, wiping his eyes and reaching out to grab her lifeless hand. "I hate that you make me feel this way, but... I could never hate you..."

She wanted nothing more than to be able to squeeze his hand back, to tell him, not even necessarily with words but with a simple gesture, that she was right there and wasn't going to go anywhere.

She just... had to figure out how to make that true.

Still, Spencer kept going, a small laugh bubbling up through tears and phlegm. "But I will hate you if you die, because I just know you're gonna come back and haunt me for eternity... Probably... shit in my shoes or something."

Y/N barked a laugh that was true and pure... Happy, even.

The genius may have acted like he hated her, but it turns out he knew her pretty well, perhaps even fondly in one way or another.

To think— All those years she spent seeing him sneer at her, feeling his glare burn into her soul, the amount of times she caught him making faces or inappropriate gestures behind her back, all of it... And the whole time, he was probably doing it with a little flicker of fondness deep within the confines of his heart, which he swore to fill with nothing but hatred for her.

The thought made the little flicker in her own heart burn brighter.

As she wandered closer to her bed, beside Spencer and in front of her own body, she reached her hand out to see if she could touch his face, to give him something...

Even though she had no luck, something shifted when he spoke.

"Just... Come back to me, please? I know I'm not good at apologizing, but if it means I get you back... I swear that I will make up every horrible thing I've ever done or said to you. Just... Please don't leave me."

He laid his head down in his hands and tried not to cry again, every said horrible thing replaying on a loop in his brain like some kind of taunt. He wished more than anything for a chance to make it up to Y/N, and now he might not ever be able to.

"You think I'd leave this mortal earth without getting the chance to kick your ass?"

Everything was so fuzzy and light and brimming with these high emotions that Y/N almost didn't realize she was saying these words and Spencer was hearing them. She almost didn't feel the warmth of her bloodstream beneath layers of skin, the beat of her heart slowly coming back to life at the sounds and smells of the hospital room.

She almost didn't realize that Spencer was grabbing her now, his warm hands covering her cold ones and bringing them back to life as well.

"Screw you," he breathed with absolutely no malice to be detected in his voice.

They shared a smile so bright, no one would have been able to guess that they never got along.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Not only was she stuck at home doing nothing while on suspension (Yes, it turns out that storming off into an alley and not paying attention while on the job, just because a co-worker pissed you off, can get you suspended by Chief Strauss), but Y/N was also being visited by a daily rotation of her co-workers and friends and family, and her house was nearly covered in flower bouquets and baked goods.

It was a nightmare.

The sentiment was nice, sure, but if she had to move one more vase, she was going to start throwing them.

God, maybe Spencer was right, I am a stone-cold bitch...

Thinking of him also put a little damper on her mood.

He hadn't been to visit her once... And she figured that after their nice little moment at the hospital, he'd at least stop by with flowers or an "I'm glad you're not dead!" call, but there was nothing on his end. Not even a text message or a letter.

But for all she knew, their small moment of kindness could have been a figment of her concussed imagination.

Please, she thought, if I brought it up to him he'd probably just laugh in my face.

Rather than a laugh, Y/N heard the bright sound of her doorbell, which normally would have meant a fun unexpected visit or a date she was getting ready for, but by now it only meant another vase of flowers or a pie from a neighbor she still didn't remember the last name to.

Either way, she answered the door with as polite a smile as she could muster, and instead of finding a vaguely familiar neighbor or acquaintance, she found Spencer.

Though, to be fair, he was holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Well, this is a surprise," Y/N drawled, crossing her arms. "I don't even think you've ever been to my house."

She was surprised to see him nervous around her, rather than irritated. And she would have found it endearing had they not been practically mortal enemies from the moment they met... She was suspicious.

"O—Oh, yeah... I know, I just thought... I wanted to come see how you were doing... These are for you."

He held out the flowers, which were truthfully the pretties set she'd received, and it irked her. Because of course he of all people would be the one to tell which kinds of flowers she'd prefer.

"Thanks," she said, taking them from him and allowing him the space to come inside. "Watch out, it's a maze in here..."

While she looked for somewhere to put the flowers on display, she could feel Spencer looking around her space, probably profiling what he could behind a sea of flowers.

"Hm."

Y/N sighed. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just... I'm surprised this many people actually like you."

Despite the nature of his observation, she found it comforting. That level of playful contempt was what she was used to, and it brought a sparkle to her eye as she turned to face him. "Ha... I'm not a complete bitch, you know."

"Sure."

Between the growing grin on his face and the smirk forming on her own, Spencer and Y/N found themselves falling back into a familiar rhythm. And yet, something about it was still... different.

So much so that Y/N felt honest-to-God butterflies in her stomach when he approached, hands retreating from his pockets and head tilting off to the side. His expression held that look he got when he was trying to figure someone out, usually an unsub. She hated to admit it to herself, but a little part of her always found that side of him extremely attractive.

And now that it was right in front of her?

She didn't know what to make of it.

"What?" she snapped, looking for an excuse to hide any and all attraction she was feeling.

Spencer stepped back a little, breaking away from whatever trance he'd just been in. "God, why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"You push away every single show of affection! Any time I'm trying to be nice, you just act like it's some big inconvenience to you!"

Y/N laughed. "Ha! That's what that was? Just now? When you insulted me, and then started stalking towards me with that look you get when you're interrogating an unsub? That's what you call affection?"

"That's not... That's not what that was!"

"Oh really? Then what was it?"

"It was part of the routine! Banter! Y—You know, that's our thing! We insult each other, and we act like we hate each other but we... We don't, really..."

The longer he went on, the faster her heart raced. This was the moment in the movie where he inevitably blurted out that he loved her, and in turn she would either kiss him or slap him, or slap him and then kiss him...

But Y/N was still feeling rather playful despite the swarm of butterflies in her stomach begging for some relief.

"Oh?" she prompted, taking a slow step closer to him. "We don't?"

Spencer seemed to get red immediately, and he avoided her eyes. "U—Uh... Well I... I thought... Maybe I read it all wrong, a—and I'm sorry if I did..."

She'd been getting closer meanwhile, and now they were practically toe-to-toe. He did his best to ignore her, taking a few steps back until she cornered him against the front door. And with the way he wasn't doing anything to get out of his predicament, she took that as his acceptance and took another leap.

"What..." she cooed, crawling her fingers up the front of his chest like a spider. "You like me? Hmm?"

When he finally looked down at her, she allowed herself to smile, albeit slowly and with calculation.

In a flash Spencer went from nervous to fed-up, weight seeming to visibly lift from his chest as he sank against the door. "You're messing with me..."

"It's so fun."

"You know what, screw you."

"Is that a promise?"

"Maybe it is. What are you gonna do ab—"

She didn't let him finish.

In an instant, Y/N lunged forward and pulled him down for a kiss.

Even though she thought he might have tried to take control of the situation, he ended up surprising her with a wanton moan as his hands clutched at her sides, holding on for dear life. Their bodies and tongues collided in a mess of years worth of pent-up tension, chaotic and wild and fiercely beautiful in a way that put even the greatest first kisses to shame.

And of course, Spencer had to go and ruin it.

He pushed her away and looked almost panicked. "W—Wait, are you even cleared to do this?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, reaching out for him again. "I'm fine."

"Y/N, you were in the hospital! I thought... I thought you were..."

She appreciated the sentiment, but with her entire body on fire from his touch, she decided she needed more of it. "Yeah, but I'm not... I'm very much alive, and you know what?"

He blinked back at her, watching carefully as she leaned in close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It's because of you. You make me feel... more alive than I've ever been."

"And... You're not messing with me this time?"

With a laugh,  Y/N shook her head and leaned up to brush her nose with his. "Nuh-uh... But if you'd like to, I'd love to mess with you in a more fun way. And maybe I'll even let you do it back..."

Spencer hummed, feeling himself gravitate towards her more with every passing second. "Deal."

He barely got the word out all the way before she was dragging him through the maze of flora and contained food and into her bedroom, where piece by piece, their hatred and fondness for one another combined to create the most exquisite of nights.

———

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #enemies to lovers

[shurisneakers]

harmless (iv)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, guns, mention of war, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: good evening i’ve never been to any of the places i mention in this series so dont come @ me

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He spends the weekend doing nothing. It’s supposed to be relaxing. He finds it nauseatingly boring.

“No mini mission this week?” Steve asks him from across the couch. 

They’re supposed to be catching up on Star Wars but two prequels in and Bucky could feel himself lose his sanity. Anyone could present him with a random assortment of alphabets, call it a Star Wars species and he would have no reason not to believe them.

It’s not like he doesn’t like space. It’s just that he’s had enough of it and everything and everyone who came from it for the foreseeable future.

“No. Someone else is taking care of it.”

“Didn’t you volunteer for this?”

“I pulled myself out of the case.”

“I thought you were having fun.” 

Bucky’s head slowly turns to look at him. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. “Looked like you were.”

Well, he wasn’t. He likes it here at home, glued to the TV. Popcorn beside him, sweatpants on. Refreshing, calming, slow, mundane, and Jesus Christ, so fucking boring-

His spiralling is interrupted by the dinging of the elevator to the common floor. No one was allowed up there unless it was extremely urgent. Guests were barely allowed into the Tower as it was. 

It reveals the receptionist from downstairs, Marie. She’s always a little reserved, a little shy. But Bucky had seen her chew and spit out trespassers or anyone who dared to get on her nerve. He adores her.

“Hey, Marie,” Steve says while Bucky sends her a friendly wave in greeting. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a hostage situation downtown,” she informs them. 

“Okay...” Steve drawls, waiting for a reason why this was an Avengers level threat.

“They’ve asked for Mr. Barnes by name.” She makes a mention towards him.

Bucky sits up straight. Bits of popcorn fall off his chest. 

“What?”

“They said, and I quote-” she looks down at her notepad. “‘Tell that grumpy motherfucker that I’m waiting for him and that he’s not getting out of this so easily because we have come too far.’ End quote. They’ve also told me to include a kissing emoji. And a skull.”

Steve and he look at each other.

“Well?” Steve prods. 

Bucky sighs and gets up to go get ready.

The entrance of Chuck E. Cheese is more crowded than he’d ever seen. He wasn’t even sure he’d seen people in the store before. If there were, they probably only came up till his waist. 

There are a few journalists, a few policemen standing together outside. Whispers of confusion and curiosity reigned free. 

Bucky gently pushes his way to the front. He gets a nod from a police officer who opens the door for him after a quick briefing. 

The place is darker than it usually would be. A trademark, it seemed. The blinds are drawn shut and most of the light is coming through whatever sneaks in through the crack. 

“Hey, Barnes.” Your voice is muffled by a mask that looks suspiciously like it was made out of classroom craft supplies.

There’s a person in a loose chokehold in your hand with a gun pressed against his head. Once again it looks straight out of a cartoon, purple with round disks lining its barrel. 

“What’s all this now?” He gestures around monotonously. 

“A hostage situation. Didn’t you get the memo?”

“Got that part down, genius,” he bites back. “But why?”

“Fucker kept harassing me when I was walkin’ down the street.” 

The guy’s helpless gaze met Bucky. 

“Catcalling me, stalking me.” You tighten the grip you have on him. “Call me darlin’ one more time, you son of a bitch. I dare you.”

He wasn’t impressed with his pleading eyes. He kinda felt like he deserved it. 

“Why’d you do it here?” The bright colours were starting to give him a heading. “And where are the staff?”

“It’s symbolic, Bucky,” you emphasise, “He deserves to be among other rat bastards.”

Of course.

“The staff?” he asks again. 

“Gave them thirty bucks and told them to leave. I’m not a monster.”

“Right.” He doesn’t bother refuting you. “Why’d you call me here?”

“Dunno.” You shrug. “Thought it’d be fun. You having fun yet?”

You shake the guy you’re holding. He gives a small whimper. 

Bucky doesn’t want to stop you. He had chugged enough Respect Juice in his lifetime to know that this guy probably deserved a threat or two.

Hell, he’d even help but you were more than capable of handling this on your own.

“Listen,” he sighed. “As much as I’m sure he deserves it, this is technically illegal and I’m required to stop you.”

“Sorry sarge, I thought you weren’t interested in playing this stupid game with me,” you mock, voice dropping to imitate him.

“I’m not.” It wasn’t entirely true. One Saturday with Jar Jar Binks had convinced him otherwise.

“Okay, so before you leave, do me a favour and call Hawkeye. I hear he looks mighty fine when he’s annoyed.”

His face involuntarily scrunched up. You were going to replace him with Clint? Clint?

He probably took it more as an insult than he should have.

“I’m not doing that.” Bless his foul mouthed friend, but he was a little shit who was too sarcastic for his own good. At least twice a week he’d say something stupid to Bucky and then take out his hearing aids when he tried to argue back. 

“You’re leavin’ me with no options here,” you groaned, using your thumb to flip a switch. The gun looks like it powered up, lights along the side turning red.

If he let you have this, it’d be a bad look for the Avengers.

New York man dies in Chuck E. Cheese lone hostage situation, unable to be saved by same superhero who tried to fight Thanos with a machine gun.

“Tell ya what,” he says instead, “If you kill him, there won’t even be a slight chance that you’ll see me again.”

Your grip on the gun falters.

“If I let him go...”

“I might consider coming back next week.” He’s trying to spin it, make it look like he’s the one with the upper hand here. “But you gotta let him go.”

You search his face for any signs of dishonesty.

“Let him go or you’ll never see me again.” It sounds too much like Clint’s arguments with his dog who brought a live squirrel into the house. 

“Fine,” you relent, a glint in your eye. “but say goodbye to this fuckface.”

Before Bucky can open his mouth to shout in protest, you pull the trigger. The man clenches his eyes shut, face red.

He expects blood to be splatter across his face.

Nothing happens.

A barrage of bubbles floats into the room.

“I meant it literally,” you say, pushing him off you. “Say goodbye. He’s leaving.”

The man stumbles to the ground and Bucky doesn’t make any attempt to catch him. He scrambles to his knees, picking himself up and scurrying out the door to a hoard of reporters.

The door shuts behind him with the chime of a bell.

“You’re annoying,” Bucky states, giving a small sigh.

“I’m well aware of that.” You pull off the mask, wiping the sweat off your brow.

“Where is the agent assigned to your case?” 

“Dunno. Last I saw he was crying on the driveway of my lair. I just figured he’d pick himself up later so I left him there.”

Bucky’s nose twitches. 

“You weren’t actually going to kill him, were you.” He shrugs with his shoulder towards the door. It wasn’t a question, more a statement. He knew you wouldn’t. 

“I could have.”

“But you weren’t going to,” he repeats. 

“No,” you admit. “I wasn’t. But I’m glad to see you showed up.”

“You held someone hostage as leverage.”

“No, no. I held someone hostage and then asked to see you. They were completely unrelated.”

“You’re evil.”

“You jumped to conclusions,” you point out. “Would you like a trampoline next time? Maybe a pogo stick, you clown?”

He has a very real gun in his holster. His very real metal death arm aches to use it. 

“No one else agreed to come,” he deflects. 

“We both know that’s a lie. You were going to come back anyway.” You stuff the bubble gun back into the bag. “I’m deliciously irresistible.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.” You give him a smirk and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, you win this round, sarge.”

He doesn’t say anything. He watches you remove your heist gear, revealing normal civilian clothes underneath.

You walk casually to the kitchen, intending to leave through the back door.

“But I can’t say I lost either.” You send him a wink before swiftly pushing open the door and leaving him behind.

He only watches you leave.

It doesn’t hit him until a few seconds later that he let a criminal out of his hands when there were several policemen and journalists outside.

He entertains the idea of chasing you down and handing you over. 

It takes him only a few seconds to decide that if they wanted you, they’d have to try themselves.

Next part 

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

[ragingbookdragon]

So Live A Lie, Just Tonight, And Burn Out Bright

Batsis x Hal Jordan One-Shot

Word Count: 3.8K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes

Author's Note: I decided to compile that one Batsis "story" into one doc, and I added the alternate ending for the one anon who asked! Enjoy! -Thorne

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“Alright, easy sis, easy,” he worried, watching her carefully for signs of pain flickering across her face as he helped her off the bike.

She scowled, managing to drag her injured leg forward. “Quit nagging. I’m—ngh—fine.”

“You’re on emergency oxycodone and you’ve got a broken femur,” he retorted. “I’m nagging until you’re in surgery.”

“Ugh, stop reminding me.”

Someone hauled her off her feet with a quiet, “I’ve got you.”

She grunted in pain laying on the gurney. “Thanks, dad.”

“Miss Wayne, are you alright?”

Her eyes found Alfred’s. “I’m good. I just ne—motherfucker!” she yelped, glaring at her father who was squeezing her thigh. “Hey! That’s broken, jackass! Quit!”

Bruce grunted. “You need an ORIF now.”

A pinch in her arm made her twitch and she turned her attention to Alfred who was uncapping a needle. “Alfred, what’s that?”

He shook his head. “Nothing to worry about, Miss Wayne.” Smiling, he stuck the needle into the line. “You’ll feel better when you awaken.”

Her vision blurred rapidly, “Gonna take…a nap…now…” her head lolled, and Bruce met Alfred’s gaze.

“Call Damian. He’s got the steady hand we’ll need.”

***

“How’re you feeling?” Jason asked, setting a cup of juice on the bedside table.

She blinked slowly, staring at her fingers. “Why are my fingers like this?”

“Like what, Queenie?”

“Bendy,” she replied, flexing her fingers. “It’s fuckin’ weird.” She looked at him. “I feel weird.”

He snorted, nodding at Dick and the others who were walking in at the sound of her voice. “You’re on hydromorphone, sis.”

“Hydro—what-what?”

“Hydromorphone, sister,” Damian said. “It has increased your threshold for pain and reduced the perception of it.”

She stared at him like she hadn’t heard a word come out of his mouth. “I didn’t understand a single goddamn word that you just said.”

Snickers sounded around her, but her head was up in the clouds and she rested back against her pillow. Her family gathered around her, sitting up on the bed, and suddenly she cocked her head up, squinting at each of them.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” Bruce inquired.

“Where’s Dick?”

“I’m right here, sis,” he answered, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “What’s up?”

“Why’d you break up with Kori?”

His eyes widened. “I—what?”

“Kori. Tall alien with the shooty-hands.”

“I know who she is. What about our breakup?”

“Are you kidding me? That woman is spectacular, and you broke up with her. She’s gorgeous, wicked intelligent, fantastic in bed and—”

“Wait, back up there,” he interrupted. “Good in bed? Did you sleep with, Kori?”

“Oh yeah, totally. I was her rebound after you.”

Dick blinked while the others cackled. “Have you…have you slept with any other exes?”

“Of yours? Or in general with the family’s exes?”

“Wait,” Jason said. “Have you slept with any of mine?”

“Did you date Artemis?”

He shrugged. “Sort of?”

“Then, yes.” She looked at Bruce. “I slept with Selina too, but to be completely honest we were both drunk and I don’t think either of us remember.”

“I uh—” he started, then quieted. “I didn’t know you were gay, sweetheart.”

She let out a ‘pfft’. “I’m not.”

“Oh, you’re bi, then?” Dick smiled and she shook her head.

“Nah, I like the wine but not the label.” She grinned. “I’m a lover of people.”

“How many superheroes have you slept with?” Tim questioned and she pursed her lips.

“Uh…I dunno…kinda lost count.”

For a moment no one said a word, then Jason asked, “You know how we call Dickhead the fuck-boy? Can we refer to you as that now? I think you’ve topped his count.”

Her eyes narrowed into a glare and she pointed at him, though she was seeing double, so it was entirely possible that she was pointing at the wall. “Keep that up and I’ll sleep with your best friend again.”

“You slept with Roy?!”

“I was talking about Kyle, but Roy works too.”

“OH MY GOD! IS THERE ANYONE YOU HAVEN’T SLEPT WITH?”

She thought for a moment, then offered, “Diana. But I asked her out last weekend so it’s up in the air until our date.”

***Part Two***

There was only one rule that everyone collectively followed in Wayne Manor and that was: no excessive noise until after twelve P.M. It was mostly influenced by Alfred who’d more than once pulled out the shotgun but surprisingly, mornings were usually calm and quiet. Keywords: “Were” and “Usually”. There were some special cases.

An ear-splitting scream shattered the silence of the breakfast room and in an instant, everyone was jumping from the table, sprinting towards the staircase to find out what was quite possibly murdering their eldest sister. As they neared the staircase, they came face to face with her as she stood behind the banister, her hands gripping the railing until her knuckles started whitening.

“Sis, what’s wrong?” Dick worried, already starting to come up the steps, Jason and Tim close behind.

“I’m late,” she whispered, and they leaned forward.

“What was that?” Bruce inquired, brows furrowing, and she looked at him.

“I’m late.” Her voice was firmer this time.

He blinked. “How long?”

“Two months.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Jason questioned, shaking his head and she scowled.

“My period’s late, jackass.”

She wished she’d taken a photo of their faces, because nothing would ever amuse her as much as the way their jaws went slack, eyes widening in total shock. Running a hand down her face, she groaned, “Oh my God. I knew something was up. I completely forgot about it.”

“Sooooo…” Tim drawled out with a recovered grin. “Who’s the daddy?”

Her eyes narrowed and she shot him a glare. “Shut. Up.”

“C’mon sis, someone—some guy did it for you.” Jason quipped. “Who’s the lucky man?” he paused, seeming to remember something. “How many superheroes have you slept with in two months? That have dicks, of course.” She clenched her jaw and his eyes widened. “Oh no. Oh no…is it, Roy?”

“It’s not Roy!” she hissed.

“Kyle?” Dick offered and she shook her head.

“No. I’ve only slept with one guy in the past two months.”

“Who was it sister?” Damian quizzed, placing his hands on his hips. “I have yet to meet anyone acceptable for you to populate with.”

“Thanks Damian,” she griped, then groaned. “Oh God, I know who it is too. And I wish I didn’t.”

“Why’s that?”

Her eyes found Tim’s. “Because we were drunk as hell after a League mission.”

“Who is it?” Bruce grunted and she met his gaze.

“You’re not going to like it.”

Something passed between them, and his eyes narrowed. “Please don’t say that’s who you slept with.”

She nodded, pressing a hand to her face, hiding her embarrassment. “Mhm.”

“You slept with him?”

“Unfortunately.”

Jason looked between his sister and father. “Wait, I’m confused. What’s going on?” A snort sounded beside him, and he looked over, seeing Dick in tears. “Why are you crying? What’s so funny?”

Dick cackled. “SHE SLEPT WITH HAL JORDAN!”

Another round of slack jawed brothers appeared in her sight, and she hissed. “It was an accident!”

“YOU’RE HAVING A BABY WITH HAL JORDAN!” Dick gasped, starting to drop to his knees from laughing so hard. “OH MY GOD, YOU SLEPT WITH THE GUY DAD HATES THE MOST!”

“You slept with Hal Jordan?” Tim gagged. “Ew.”

“Sister, I am disgusted in your choice of partners for children.” Damian noted and she scowled.

“I hate all of you.” she looked at Bruce.

He sighed heavily, a defeated father…or maybe a defeated grandfather. “I’ll go call Hal…and order prenatal vitamins.”

She ran a hand down her face. “I’ll call Leslie and get in for an exam.”

“Holy shit,” Jason gasped. “We’re gonna be uncles!”

***Part Three***

He shifted the phone to rest between his ear and shoulder, hands busy pouring coffee into his cup. “Hello?”

What are you doing right now?

“Bruce? Is that you?”

Answer the question, Hal.

He rolled his eyes and frowned. “Well, it’s nine A.M., I’m making a cup of coffee. I know bats are nocturnal, so this might come as a surprise to someone like you, but rest assured it’s a normal habit for us normal folks.”

How fast can you get to Gotham City?

“Willingly?” Hal chuckled, setting down the coffee pot to grab the phone. “What’s going on?”

I need your…help…with something. And I need you in Gotham as fast as you can get here…please.

He almost dropped both the phone and coffee mug. “Did you just say you need my he—” the line went dead with a click, and he pulled the phone from his ear. “Asshole,” Hal scowled and shoved the phone in his pocket, before putting the mug down. His body flashed green as he suited up and he sighed. “Can’t believe I gotta go to the land of the living dead at nine A.M.”

***

He rubbed his temples as he disconnected the call, barely suppressing the sigh that wanted to escape him. “Are you mad at me?” he heard behind him, low, scared, and worried; he shook his head.

“No.”

She leaned against the desk, staring down at the side of his head. “Are you disappointed in me?”

Bruce sighed this time. “At your basic lack of common sense and sleeping with a team member despite the fact that I’ve told you time and again that inner-team-dalliances only end badly? Yes.” He turned his eyes to her. “But for being pregnant? Never.”

“Doesn’t seem like it, dad,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest; he watched them lower to hold her stomach.

“I think Hal Jordan’s an idiot,” he stated. “If it seems like I’m upset, it’s because he’s going to be my grandchild’s father and I’ll have to be nice to him now.” She huffed a laugh and he reached over, placing a hand on her arm. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. We’ll take care of this.”

“I know, it’s just…” she sighed. “I never expected this to happen.”

“No one ever does,” Bruce answered. “Have you contacted Leslie yet?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go see her around three.” Grunting, she muttered, “Figured if Hal got here in as soon as possible, we’d have enough time to sit and talk about this before we went.” She ran a hand over her face. “God, I can’t believe I Hal knocked me up.”

“Please don’t say that,” Bruce griped. “I don’t like that phrase.”

“But that’s what happened, dad. I got knocked up by Hal.”

“Why do you hate me?” he scowled, dropping his head into his hands. “How did this even happen?”

Sighing, she recounted, “After the mission in Brazil, Hal invited Barry back to Coast City for a drink and Barry invited me.” She shrugged. “I didn’t wanna be rude even if I am typically antisocial, so I accepted, and we got there and found a bar. After a couple hours, Barry had to get back to Central and we just decided to keep drinking.”

She grunted. “Hell, by seven thirty we were already gone so we got a ride back to his place and he offered to let me stay the night and one thing led to another and—”

Bruce raised his hand, effectively silencing her. “I can infer what happened after that.” He rubbed his temples. “Let’s just wait for Hal to get here, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, falling silent.

***

Alfred cleared his throat. “Master Jordan, is here, sir.” They both looked up from the Batcomputer at the test pilot.

“Thank you, Alfred,” Bruce said, and the butler nodded, ascending the steps.

Hal walked towards them. “So, what’s the deal? Why do you need me?”

Bruce looked at her and she sighed. “Actually, I’m the one who needed you to come here, Hal.”

His brown eyes darted to hers, a flash, a recognition of something and he nodded. “Aright. What’s up?”

“Dad…give us a moment?” he nodded and stood from the Batcomputer, walking to the medical section on the other side of the cave. She waved Hal over. “You might wanna sit down.”

He did, albeit suspiciously. “Why are you acting so…weird?”

“Hal,” she said, then looked at her hands. “I’m…ah crap.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brows furrowing.

She took a deep breath and admitted, “My period’s late and there’s a good chance I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, Hal didn’t say a word, then he burst into laughter. “Oh, that’s hilarious!” he held his stomach and wiped his eyes. “That’s a good one.”

“I’m not joking, Hal,” she spat. “In the last three months, you’re the only man I’ve had sex with. If I’m pregnant, you’re the father.”

He stopped laughing at that. “Are you being serious?”

“Dead.”

Hal ran a hand through his brown hair and let out a shocked breath. “Holy hell.” She watched him and he gaped at her. “W-what…what do we do?”

“I’ve got an appointment with Doctor Leslie at four. You’re welcome to come along if you’d like.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I will.” Swallowing thickly, he said, “Does he know?”

“Dad? Yeah. They all do.”

“They?” he repeated, eyes wide.

“My brothers.”

“You told them we slept together?”

She chuckled. “Apparently a year ago under heavy meds, I admitted I slept with Dad, Dick, and Jason’s exes.” She shrugged. “There’s not much I keep from them.”

Hal’s eyes shifted to Bruce’s back. “Can’t imagine the Big-Bat is happy about this.”

“Oh, he’s not. He thinks you’re an idiot, but judging by the look on your face, you already know that.”

He scoffed. “Your dad likes to think he’s smarter than everyone else.”

She cocked a brow. “He is.”

“And it seems like you’re following that strain well,” he shot back, and they glared at each other before cracking smiles.

“If this is real, we’re going to be some parents, huh?”

Hal could sense the fear in her voice, and he stood in front of her, placing his hands on her hips. “Hey,” he murmured. “No parents are perfect. And we’re sure as hell not.”

“If this is supposed to cheer me up, it’s not.”

“I’m not trying to cheer you up. I’m trying to reassure you,” he corrected, squeezing her hips lightly. “We’ll work through this, and we’ll do it together.”

She gazed at him then heaved a sigh and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Thanks Hal.”

“Don’t mention it,” he chuckled, then murmured, “But if we really are going to be parents, should we tie the knot?”

“Absolutely not.”

***

“Hal, for the love of God, will you sit down?” she griped. “You’re starting to make me anxious with all that pacing.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before shrugging off his bomber. “I can’t help it,” he retorted. “I hate waiting.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” She rolled her eyes. “Leslie’s working as fast as she can. Just sit down and be patient.”

Hal paced for another minute before collapsing into the seat beside her; she took his hand in hers and rubbed her thumb on the back of his hand. “What are you doing?” he asked, and she hummed.

“Comforting you.”

“Why?”

She looked at him. “Because you’re worried.”

“How are you not?”

“I am,” she commented, and he scowled.

“You don’t look it.”

“Well, that’s because I was trained to retain my emotions a as child,” she retorted. “It helps when I’m dealing with children who are scared.”

“I’m not a child,” Hal hissed, and she snorted.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“You know what? I’m gonna—”

The door opened and their mouths snapped shut as Leslie walked in with a smile. “Good afternoon.”

“Hey Leslie,” she greeted, then glanced at the papers in her hand. “So? What’s the verdict?”

Leslie handed her the file and she looked it over. “Case of irregular period, dear.”

She blinked and said dumbly, “I’m not pregnant?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Our bodies act up sometimes, even when we’re grown. Irregularities can still happen even now.” Clearing her throat, Leslie added, “But your blood and urinalysis came back negative. You’re not pregnant.” She looked between Hal and her. “With the results, you’re free to leave.”

She stood to her feet, but when Hal didn’t, she tugged his hand. “Hal,” she whispered. “Come on.”

He staggered to his feet. “Yeah, I’m coming.” He disappeared out of the clinic room, and she sighed, then looked at Leslie.

“Thanks doc.”

“Of course.”

***

They were quiet on the park bench, watching the sun reflect off the water and listening to the birds singing in the sky. “So…I guess that’s a relief,” Hal stated, and she nodded.

“Yeah. I guess it is.” Laughing, she said, “I mean could you imagine if I were actually carrying your kid?” when he didn’t laugh, she looked over at him. “Hal?”

He blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “Yeah, couldn’t imagine it.”

“Hal,” she plead. “Are you upset that I’m not?”

“What? No. No, I’m relieved you’re not pregnant, but…” he sighed and shrugged. “I dunno at the same time as scared as I was, I was happy, you know? Ready to step up and be there for you.”

She lowered her gaze to his hands and reached over, placing hers over his and he took it, squeezing. “Well, look at it this way. This was the universe telling you that you’re ready to be a father and this was the universe telling me that I’m not ready to be a mom or your baby’s mother.”

Hal gazed at her for a moment then chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He squeezed her hand again and climbed to his feet, flashing green as his suit appeared. “Now that everything’s sorted out, I should be getting back to Coast City.”

“Sounds good,” she agreed, standing to her feet.

“Can I drop you off anywhere?”

“Nah, I’m gonna walk around for a bit,” she said.

Hal took to the sky then looked down at her. “If you ever find yourself ready…call me?”

A shocked laugh bubbled in her chest, and she shook her head. “Not a chance in hell, Jordan.”

“Come on, don’t you think it would be fun to have the old Bat call me his son in law?”

Giggling, she waved him off. “Get out of here, Hal.”

Winking, he replied, “See you later, babe.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle and watch him leave, then she shook her head. “Ridiculous.” But a small smile was still on her lips as she headed down the street.

***Alternate Ending***

She gazed numbly out at the water, not sure if she should feel surprise or shock, but whatever emotion she was feeling had completely dumbfounded her. She was pregnant. Her hands had unconsciously pressed tight to her stomach, and she felt sick more than anything. Sick, scared, ashamed, every emotion that came with sleeping with a coworker—and every TV show and movie where the woman got pregnant from the affair.

How was she going to explain this to her family? To her friends? How was she going to face their scrutiny? Pregnant out of wedlock? With the biggest skirt-chasing, arrogant asshole in the galaxy? She’d take the brunt of their scathing opinions. He’d get off scot-free. He’d—

“(Y/N).” Someone’s hand rested on her shoulder, and she blinked, suddenly brought from her stupor and she looked over at him; his gaze was full of worry. “Are you okay?”

Instantly, she felt angry, and she jerked away from him, standing to her feet. “Am I okay!” she shouted. “You got me pregnant! Do you have any idea what this is going to do to us! To our reputations! To mine!”

Irritation etched across his face, and he stood to his feet, getting in her face. “It takes two to tango, (Y/N). We both did this—not just me.”

Her mouth opened to retort sharply, but damned if he didn’t have a point and she shut her mouth, tasting something bitter as she looked away. “I’m going home.”

She turned and his hand shot out, grabbing hold of her arm. “Wait, I don’t want you going alone.”

“Let go of me.” She hissed, trying to pull away, but he tightened his grip.

“No. It’s too dangerous for you to be out alone.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to Jordan. I’m—”

“The mother of my child.” Hal declared and she gaped at him. “I know what you and your family think of me. I know you think I’m an arrogant asshole and yeah, I’ll admit that I am.” He pulled her to him and wrapped his arm around her waist. “But if you think for a second, I’m going to let you wander around this bat-shit crazy city alone while pregnant, then you’re the one who’s being arrogant.”

He searched her gaze. “I’m many things, (Y/N). But I’m not going to abandon you or shy away from whatever this is.”

She swallowed thickly. “What do you mean ‘whatever this is’? Parents?”

“Us.” Hal said. “Maybe it’s just my big head, but I see the way you look at me. Yeah, I annoy the hell out of you, but you care for me.” He reached up, cupping her cheek. “And I care about you too. More than just what teammates should for one another.”

(Y/N) didn’t know what to say, because he did have a point. Hal was an annoying prick who at many times provoked her into physical confrontation, but on the other hand, there was nothing she loved more than fighting with him, because she knew he found it just as amusing.

Her gaze lowered and she felt tears well in her eyes. “I’m scared, Hal.”

“I know. I am too,” he murmured. “But we’re going to get through this.” He tipped her head up, catching her eyes once more. “We will get through this. Together.”

(Y/N)’s lips wobbled, and she tried for a lighthearted comment. “Isn’t fraternization against the rules?”

Hal grinned. “Only in the military.” He winked. “Last time I checked—we’re not in it.”

She laughed, leaning forward, and pressed her forehead to his. “How’s everyone going to react to this?”

He shrugged. “Probably with shock. I mean about me getting a girl pregnant? Not likely. Getting you pregnant? More likely.”

“Shut up.”

“I think we should consider getting married though.”

(Y/N) pulled away and stared at him. “Excuse me?”

Hal looked at her. “(Y/N), we should think about getting married. I mean, we’re gonna have a kid together. Might as well tie the knot while we’re at it.”

She merely blinked and spun, walking off. “Nope. Not happening. I’ll be your baby-mama, but I am not marrying you.”

“Hey! Wait up!”

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[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part VI

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader, Zeke Yeager x fem!reader wc: ~ 11.2k

Warnings:  explicit sexual content, ass play, jealousy, possessive behavior, humiliation, manipulation, OC introduced (read A/N), non-con coming inside, fighting, miscommunication A/N: As I was writing this, I decided to bring original female characters in to play the “bad guys” because I didn’t wanna demonize the canon AoT girls. Just didn’t feel right. So, everyone, meet Rhi. Enjoy~

Mike is extremely fucking aware of you sitting a foot away from him on his couch. You're hunched over and whining about him beating you in Mario Kart again, and honestly, he doesn't know how he's doing it because he is so not focused on the game. 

 You came to the party in tight jeans and a sparkling top, and all Mike can think about is getting you out of them, spreading you out underneath him just like he used to. 

 But, he's not gonna say anything about it, not even gonna allude to it because he feels awful about pushing so hard at the Pike house. He never thought he'd be that type of guy, but he's been known to go a little off the rails when it comes to you. 

 "Have you ever played this with all banana peels?" Mike asks, trying to get his mind off of the heat he thinks he's radiating. 

 "What?" 

 "Like, you set it so all the items are bananas."

 Your eyebrows raise. "That sounds nightmarish."

 "Oh, it is," he agrees. "But you should experience the chaos at least once."

 "Alright, fine. Nanner me up, then." Mike snorts as you sit back against the cushions, examining the Switch controller in your hand and mumbling, "Could they have made these any smaller? My hands are too big. How are you even playing?" 

 "Practice. We played a lot of Don't Drink and Drive my sophomore year."

 He toggles to change the settings, and you both pick characters again. Mike selects Baby Park and grins too widely when you squeak. 

 "This is the worst possible—"

 "It's the best possible track," he corrects you. 

 The next minute or so is spent with Mike swearing and you screeching, but a melody of giggles can be heard in between. 

 He stands up like it'll help him focus, and you follow suit, bouncing and leaning forward until Mike thinks you might lose your balance. It's the only match you actually beat him at, and you raise your arms in victory, acting like the terrible winner you are. You dance and poke him in the chest so that Mike rolls his eyes and shoves you with just enough force (so, not a lot) to make you fall back onto the couch. 

 "Wow, rude!" You exclaim with a little pout.

 Mike stands next to you, a little too close as a retort forms on the tip of his tongue, but the angle is awkward, and he watches your eyes flit from his face to his waist (or what's a little below it) for just a split second, just long enough for him to notice, and he has to fight a smirk as you meet his eyes again. 

 He can imagine your cheeks are feeling pretty warm right now, but Mike doesn't say anything about it, just takes his place beside you. If he's sitting a little closer than before, neither of you mention it. 

 It's nearing one in the morning, and both of you are starting to feel it, eyes and hands too slow to keep playing the video game, so you switch to a movie. Mike doesn't think much of it when he lays down, legs hanging over the armrest, head in your lap. You tense for about two seconds before relaxing into the position you both know so well. 

 The first Jurassic Park plays from the TV, but Mike isn't paying any attention, too busy watching the way you're nibbling on your bottom lip. It's your thinking face, means you're lost in your own brain, just as far away from the film as he is. 

 It's stupid that you're both fighting this. Mike doesn't understand. If he wants it, and you want it, what the fuck is standing in the way? Zeke? That pretentious, clay-stained fuck? You don't even fit well together. In any way. He's too arrogant and philosophical (or so Erwin says). He probably doesn't appreciate your sense of humor (or so Mike says). And, he won't fuck you (so you say). How are you happy with him? 

 "Miche," your voice is quiet, but still loud enough to send a shiver down Mike's spine. 

 "Hm?"

 "Stop staring at my mouth."

 "You looked at my dick earlier."

 "Shut up, no I didn't."

 Mike laughs, turns his head to bury it in your stomach, and you start carding fingers through his hair. It's natural with the two of you. Nothing is forced. It took a while to get back into the groove of your friendship, but now you're here, and Mike is breathing in the smell of your perfume and fabric softener and you, and he wants so badly to just raise your shirt and plant kisses all over your soft skin. 

 Your body rises and falls with a deep breath. Your hand stops at the crown of his head. Then, you whisper the words he wants to hear most: "Just one more night?" 

 Mike sits up so fast, he nearly smacks into your chin with his forehead. He turns to face you again, eyes too round, voice too hopeful as he assures, "Just one more night."

 He knows the only reason you're considering this is because Zeke has you all wound up, but that's okay. Mike will take care of you. He'll scratch that itch and then some—remind you of what you're missing. 

 "Alright, yeah, I—"

 Mike is suddenly standing and taking your hand, leading you to his bedroom as the Jurassic Park theme plays you both out. 

 He knows you'll want to snoop—it's sort of your thing—but he doesn't give you time as he bends and catches you in a kiss, hands holding your face, tilting your head. He feels you curl your fingers into his shirt, using him for leverage as you balance on your tiptoes, and he lets you dance like that for a little while, desperate little ballerina as you open your mouth for him, but as soon as he feels your tongue against his, Mike lifts you clean off the ground. You wrap your legs around his waist, no need for straining muscles now as you both lick and suck and hold on to each other too tightly. 

 Mike paces over to the bed, nearly tripping over the shoes he left in the middle of his room earlier that day, but he’s able to drop you onto the mattress and catch himself above you before any real damage can be done. 

 You laugh out a, “Real smooth, Zacharias,” that he ignores in favor of taking his shirt off. 

 He can’t see well in the darkness which just will not do as you begin stripping, but then he remembers, “Oh,” and leans over you to plug in the string of lights he somehow managed to hang around the flag pinned above his headboard. “Ambience.”

 You crane to look at them, suck your teeth, and say, “Let me guess. Erwin told you to do it.”

 “How’d you know?”

 Another little giggle as you tuck a few strands of hair behind his ear—“Because Erwin is the fairy lights type of motherfucker, but you…” You don’t finish that thought, just shake your head and tell him, “They’re cute. I like ‘em.”

 Mike hums, “Good,” then leans down for another kiss. Several more, actually. 

 He’s missed this so fucking much, the way you taste on his tongue, the way you sigh into him, the way your body moves beneath his. It hurts to think this will be the last time he gets to experience it with you, but he plans to savor every second, never let himself forget and, hopefully, make sure you never forget either. 

 Cheesy or not, the lights cast incredible shadows on your body once it's bared to him. Your silhouette is something he could stare at for hours, days, a lifetime. If he were even slightly artistically inclined, he’d probably try to paint it, but as that’s not the case…

 Starting at your jawline, Mike leaves a trail of little bites, pinching just hard enough to make you gasp. When he reaches your neck, though, he begins sucking, dragging his teeth over new-forming bruises so that you whimper and arch to press your chest to his. He moves slowly, barely even registering your breathy pleas as he holds a patch of skin captive between his incisors and laves over it. 

 A mark on your neck. One on the swell of your breast then on the side of the other. The space between two ribs. Just above your naval. The hollow of your hip bone. And, finally, the insides of both thighs. 

 Last time he did this, on the bed in your old room doused in moonlight, he wasn't trying to be possessive. 

 Tonight he is. 

 “M-Miche, please.” Your voice is catching as if you’re crying—as if Mike is torturing you. He supposes he is. You’re ready for relief, and all he’s doing is winding you tighter and tighter. It’s okay, baby, he thinks to himself, I’ll make it worth it. 

 Swiping his tongue between your folds, Mike groans at how wet you are. He almost feels sorry for you. Now, he’s gonna have to spend even more time drinking you in. 

 You throw your legs over his shoulders with no prompting, letting him sink further into you. Mike licks in long, deep strokes that make your thighs tremble and jump around his head. He sucks your clit into his mouth, slick and swollen against his tongue, and makes sure to move his face just enough to make a mess of the hair on his chin. 

 You’re begging again. For something. For nothing. He isn’t quite sure. But, when Mike moves to lick around your dripping hole and uses a finger to flick over your sensitive little bud, you sing for him, and he realizes just how pent up you are. 

 Oh, he can have fun with this. 

 Pausing to suck more bruises onto your thighs, Mike tries to calm himself down, find a way to ignore the throb between his legs, but that doesn’t seem likely judging by the way you just keep trying to spread yourself further and further, like it’ll get him to move faster. 

 He crawls back up your body, face level with yours as he teases your entrance with a finger. You let out the cutest sounds, brow furrowing like you’re focused as you shift your hips in a silent demand that Mike does not follow. 

 His face is slick with you, and he knows you can taste yourself as he forces you into another long kiss. You let out an honest-to-god sob when he pushes his finger inside of you, throwing your head back and clenching around him while praising, “Yes, yes, yes, fuck, tha—thank you.”

 Mike pumps in and out a few times, finds your spot with ease and massages over it until he sees true tears leaking from your eyes. 

 Then, he pulls out, slaps a hand over your cunt, and warns, “Don’t thank me just yet.”

 Your chest heaves as you stare at the ceiling seemingly in shock. Mike raises to his knees and wipes his chin on his shoulder, glances back just in time to see you sit up and attempt to tackle him back on the bed. 

 Mike snorts, catching you by the wrists and leaning in close. “What do you think you’re gonna do?”

 Your eyes are a little wild, lips kiss-swollen, body marked to hell and back from Mike’s mouth. You just can’t get enough, shamelessly cock hungry, and god, he is so glad he's here to witness it. To be a part of it. Maybe he should send Zeke a gift basket, an edible arrangement or something. Thanks for letting me satisfy your girl since you can’t. 

 It takes no effort to lay you back down, just like it takes no effort to flip you over. Mike raises your hips, enjoys the view of you whining into his pillow for a second, then turns his sights to your ass. He gives it a couple spanks, biting his lip at the way it makes you clench your muscles, then spreads your cheeks and spits. 

 “M-Mi—”

 “‘S’okay,” he tells you before letting more of his saliva drip from his mouth and land on your asshole. “Gonna feel good, I promise.”

 He’s never done this with you before, not that he hasn’t wanted to, but he figures if there’s any night to go all out, it’s this one. 

 The first press of his tongue against your hole has you inhaling sharply, and the first press of his fingers into your pussy has you moaning low in your throat. Just like that, you relax for him. Mike works himself inside of you, opening you up until you’re nothing more than a drooling mess on his bed. You allow him to lick inside of you, to take in every exposed part of you as he rubs your g-spot over and over. 

 “Mm, gonna… gonna…” Your words are thick and wet. Mike isn’t even sure you realize that you’re speaking. He knows what you’re trying to say, though, so with a mischievous smile, he removes his face and hand, admiring his handiwork as you drop back to the bed and whine for him. 

 There’s a bottle of listerine in his nightstand, one he only planned on using when he would wake up in the early morning hours with that dead animal taste in his mouth. Turns out, it has more than one use. Mike takes a swig so that you won’t freak out if he tries to kiss you after eating your ass, swishes it around, then swallows. 

 “Not supposed to drink that,” you slur, already looking much too fucked-out for someone who hasn’t even taken his dick yet. 

 “Harmless in small doses, babe,” he tells you, recapping the bottle and tossing it back into the open drawer. “If I just chugged all of it, it’d be a different story.”

 You let out a little scoff, mumble something he can’t hear, then ask a little louder, “You ready to fuck me yet?”

 Mike smirks, pushes you to roll over again, then strokes a thumb over your face. “I am literally always ready to fuck you. Just trying to draw it out tonight.” 

 It makes you pout, but he thinks your eyes clear a little. Like you understand what he’s feeling. When you pull him down for another kiss, much softer than all of the previous, Mike smiles—another little snapshot he’d like to tuck away. 

 Without any warning, he pulls the pillows your head is resting on out from under you, snickering at the grunt that leaves you. He taps a hip, “Lift,” and shoves them underneath when you do. He should probably ask if you want him to wear a condom, but that’s nothing more than an afterthought as Mike begins to push into you. 

 “Ohh, thank god, thank god, thank god,” you pant, and Mike chuckles, dipping a hand down to gently stroke over the tissue stretching around his cock. 

 Every shallows thrust pushes more slick from you, and he can’t help but gather some on his finger and hold it to your mouth. You’re quick to lick it off, but instead of dropping his hand, Mike moves to press a thumb to your chin and hold your mouth open. You stick your tongue out, and he mumbles a low, “Such a slut,” before spitting on it. 

 As soon as you swallow Mike snaps his hips forward and starts a hard, fast rhythm. The way your face splits into a crooked grin almost has him coming on the spot, so fucking pleased with yourself, but he wants to make sure you’re seeing stars by the time he’s finished with you—wants to make sure you can’t even get out of his bed. 

 You're sucking in air through your teeth, little hisses that could be from either pain or pleasure, but the way you keep raising yourself off the pillows to meet Mike halfway is a pretty good indicator of which one it is. 

 While your voice seems muted at the time being, your sloppy little cunt is not—lewd, wet noises echoing through Mike's room as well as his head. That fucking squelch he hears every time he pushes in, the mirroring suck whenever he pulls out… You always get messy with him, or maybe he always makes a mess out of you—either way, it's one of the many things Mike adores about you. You were shy about it maybe the first two fucks but not anymore. Now, you wrap your legs around Mike and pull him closer, claw down his back and try your hardest to fuck yourself on his cock until he's laughing in your ear. 

 "Here, hold on."

 You whimper when he pulls out, but it's only to flop down in his back and let you climb on top. He expects some kind of break, a single second to breathe, but you just sink down on his length and let your head hang back. 

 "Mmygod," you moan, taking him in as far as you can then rocking back and forth. 

 Mike can feel your thighs break out in goosebumps, traces a finger over your arm to find the same effect and hums. Bracing yourself on his chest, you plant your feet on the mattress and bounce like your life depends on it, that drunken smile back in place as Mike coos, "That's it, baby, take what you need." 

 He reaches up to grope your tits, cupping both of them, brushing calloused palms over each nipple. It makes you arch your back and gasp, but the rhythm of your hips doesn't stop. Mike can feel the way your pussy is drooling on him, slick little rivers that add to that filthy, beautiful symphony. He wants to hear it every night on repeat. Most played song of—

 "Oh fuck, oh fuck," you whine, and Mike reaches between your spread legs to press a thumb against your clit, fingertips digging into the meat of your thigh as he rubs in tiny circles. 

 You sit and take it for several seconds before your eyes find his, widen, then roll as you start to come. 

 Mike takes over, lifting and lowering you on his cock as you twitch and cry for him. You're so pretty like this, hair out of place, damp with sweat and tears, thighs painted with your own orgasm. He doesn't want this to end. He doesn't want this to be the last time. 

 With your pussy still spasming around him, Mike switches positions again, lays you down like before and situates his head between your legs to idly lick everything that's dripped out of you. Your legs are shaking, kitten-like mewls meeting his ears. You jump whenever he runs his tongue over your clit, but you never move to stop him or swat him away. 

 Mike waits for you to go boneless before scooping you up and sitting on the edge of the bed. You're clumsy and slow as you straddle his lap, letting him slip inside you once more, but it's nowhere near as frantic as before. 

 He guides with gentle hands under your thighs, coaxes you to uncurl them from underneath you and wrap around his waist instead. Chest to chest, you rise and fall together. Mike breathes heavily into your neck as he hits that unforgiving wall inside of you. It makes you wince, but you don't shy away from him. 

 He's careful after that, makes sure everything he does is slow, tender, and when he sees fresh tears shining in your eyelashes, he knows it isn't from anything he's doing to you. 

 Mike is able to suck a few more bruises onto your neck and shoulders before he feels you nose at his cheek. Your kiss is dream-like, deep and relaxed but so full, and Mike knows he would be able to just do that all night if his orgasm wasn't about to run into him like a train. 

 He breaks away, looks to the ceiling only to have little fingers curl around his jaw and bring him back. You watch him with half-lidded eyes, bottom lip sucked between your teeth, and that expression—that need to see—it makes the cord in Mike's gut snap. He sees a vague twinkle in your gaze as his jaw drops then blackness as his eyes are suddenly facing the back of his god damn skull. 

 Every line of cum he shoots inside you has him groaning, his fingers digging into the swell of your ass as he fills you up. You purposely squeeze him, clenching on his cock to milk him of everything he has until Mike is shuddering and whispering, "Okay, okay, okay."

 "Okay?" You question then squeeze him again, giggling when he grunts and twitches. 

 Lying back on the bed, Mike lets you pull your legs out from under him, but you remain straddling his waist as you lean forward to lay on his chest. It’s quiet for a long time. A different Jurassic Park movie is playing now, the music too intense for the deep, even breaths you’re taking, for the way you’re lightly tapping Mike’s shoulder in time with his heartbeat. 

 His head is beginning to clear again, the lust and excitement ebbing away into those reflective thoughts that always seem to hit him after a mindblowing orgasm. It’s mostly questions: Why are you doing this? Why is he doing this? Why can’t you keep doing this? Why didn’t you pick him? Why don’t you want—

 “Okay, I gotta get up,” you grumble. “I can actually feel your cum dripping out of me.”

 Mike snorts, looking over his nose at you. “Never complained about it before.”

 You push yourself off of him, both of you hissing at the sensation, then Mike watches you stand and glance around, probably trying to figure out which door is for the closet and which is for the bathroom.

 “It’s the one on the left,” he grunts, staring at your ass a little too long and suppressing a groan when he catches sight of white fluid streaming down your thighs. “God dammit.”

 The toilet flushes, the shower starts, and Mike is left to wonder if you need the alone time or if he should treat this like any other time and join you. Are you in there trying to wash him off of you or—

 “You comin’?” You peak out from the door, wet hair dripping, tired smile in place. 

 “Just did,” he shoots back while sitting up. Like every other time. Just keep it casual. 

 The water is hot, but you’re even hotter as you lather your hair in shampoo and soap up your body. Since he’s back to pretending like this is nothing more than your old routine, Mike has no problem pressing himself against you from behind, running his hands up your sides, “helping” in the bathing process by squeezing your tits, feeling the suds get caught in the webs of his fingers. 

 “You’re playing with fire, Zacharias,” you tell him, and he can see your lips pulling into a smirk. “You need to stop unless you wanna go for round two.”

 He nips at your earlobe, uncaring of the soap that gets in his mouth. “Or three, or four.”

 You laugh and turn to face him, but your eyes are shut as you rinse your hair. It gives Mike time to admire all the marks he’s left on you—too many, probably—and he doubts you’ll be very happy with him once you notice, but fuck, you’re so pretty covered in him. 

 The shower ends. Mike expects you to ask for a ride back to the dorms (that he doesn’t understand why you’re still living in), but it turns out you’re not all talk. After sitting on the couch for only a few minutes, trying to make sense of the dinosaur movie you’ve walked in on halfway, you’re crawling into his lap again, teeth dragging over his neck this time as your hand trails down his torso to rub over his rapidly growing cock.

 “Oh, shit, I didn’t actually think you were serious,” he chuckles through a kiss.

 You grind down on him, bite his lower lip, then remind him, “I told you I was frustrated.”

 He smirks, gives your hair a little tug that makes you moan, then makes sure his words just ghost over your mouth when he teases, “Like a bitch in heat.”

 This time he takes you over the armrest of the couch, leaves you swollen and dripping his cum again. 

 Another shower, the steam on top of such vigorous activity has both of you deliriously tired, and Mike is honest when he tells you, “I really shouldn’t drive now. I’m about to pass out.”

 “You and me both.” 

 So, you slip into one of his shirts and crawl into bed with him, but neither of you get more than a couple hours of sleep before the morning sun is shining in through the window. Mike’s grumpy groan very quickly turns to one of interest when he feels you push your ass against his morning wood, and then you’re at it again. He’s never fucked this much in such a short amount of time, and he can’t imagine doing it every day or even every other day. In fact, he thinks he might be a little burnt out for a bit. Unless it’s with you, of course. He’ll always make an exception if it’s you moaning his name and hiking a leg over his hip and milking him dry. He guesses if this is the last time he gets to do this for the foreseeable future, he’s at least made it worth it.

 Back in your little party outfit, you step up into Mike’s Jeep and almost doze off in the short time it takes to get to student housing, but you’re roused when he pulls into the parking lot and steps on the breaks just a little too hard.

 Mike snickers when you jolt forward and grunt, cutting your eyes at him and muttering, “Fucker,” before undoing your seatbelt and leaning over to pull him into another kiss. He cradles the back of your head, holds you there for too long as he tries to make you feel everything he’s feeling through tangled tongues, little nips, and the string of spit that stretches between two bottom lips. 

 He thinks he’s been good at hiding it, but now as you’re about to slip out and away, those words are lodged in Mike’s throat again, and no amount of swallowing will get rid of them. He takes a deep breath and forces one of those horribly insincere smiles, and you can tell because the look you give him is thoughtful and sorry, and your voice comes out as a whisper when you say his name, “Miche.”

 “Hm?”

 “Uh… Thanks.”

 He lets out a humorless laugh and asks, “For last night? This morning?”

 “For everything. I mean, last night and this morning were incredible, like… Incredible. But, it’s more than that. For helping me with everything you have in the last year or so.”

 Mike’s heart drops into his stomach, and he sits back in his seat as his mind starts racing because this doesn’t sound like gratitude; this sounds like goodbye. 

 But, why? He’ll see you on campus in a day or so, at the PKA parties you end up going to. You probably won’t be able to attend a ton of his games, but that’s fine. He understands. Are you just being dramatic—sad that you won’t be able to fuck him anymore?

 He can’t ask any of this, settles with a half-hearted, “Yeah, no problem,” as he fights the confused frown that’s slowly taking over his face. 

 “I’ll see you around,” you tell him.

 Mike nods and watches as you slide out and start walking to the bland building. He doesn’t like how that just ended. It doesn’t sit right in his head or his gut. It could be that you’re already regretting it. It could be that you're fearful of the consequences. It could be that you think this might be the final straw in your friendship. You’d be wrong on that one, though. Mike is willing to let you get away with a lot—too much—before he runs. You can use him in whatever way you need, and he’ll keep coming back. He just can’t help it.  

 *

 That had been a bad idea. A really, really fucking bad idea. The ache in you has been completely satiated, and you loved being able to hang out (and fuck) Mike—wouldn’t really trade it—but as you walk up the stairs to Zeke’s apartment sore as all get out and see his face when he swings the door open, it really hits you—

 That had been a terrible idea. 

 “Why the fuck did Eren say he saw you leave the party with Zacharias?”

 “Alright, I’m just gonna turn around,” you say, pivoting back toward the staircase because you really don’t like the way Zeke’s tone is tying your stomach in knots and making your neck prickle. You haven’t ever been one to be scared of men, but in this moment, you would much prefer to not be anywhere near him. 

 “No, no, let’s talk about this,” he says with a suck of his teeth.

 His grip on your arm is just shy of painful, and you take note of the way he forcefully guides you into the apartment rather than tugs you. 

 You chew on the inside of your cheek, setting your purse down on the counter as you follow him over to the couch. Zeke sits down at the other end facing you, as always, blue eyes narrow behind his glasses. “So, is it true?”

 “Yeah,” you admit before diving headfirst into a lie, “It was just to play videogames, though. Neither of us were diggin’ the party, so—”

 “That so?”

 You nod. “We used to all the time.”

 “And, what else did the two of you used to do?” He mocks, and you keep your mouth shut, bottom jaw sliding as your lower lip starts to quiver. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

 “Thank whatever you want, Zeke. I was just hanging out with my best friend, okay?”

 “Your best friend?” He snaps. “Tell me, sweetheart, just why might you be covered up head to fucking toe, hm?”

 You cringe inwardly, taken back to the debate you’d had with yourself in front of the mirror. Your normal casual wear would show off some of the bruises Mike had littered you with—cold spoons can only do so much—but getting buttoned up would be suspicious. You had opted for the latter, hoping it would escape Zeke’s notice, but of course it didn’t. 

 Now, you’re sweating in your jeans and a fucking turtleneck you’ve never even worn before, and Jesus Christ, you just want to leave. Zeke is hot, but not hot enough to put up with this kind of bullshit.

 “Don’t have a comeback for that one, do ya’?”

 Mental note: kick Eren’s ass next time you see him. You knew that kid rubbed you the wrong way for a reason. 

 You don’t know who to be more upset with, the little brother or yourself. You could be irritated at Mike if you really wanted to—he hadn’t been subtle about wanting you last night, but then again, you hadn’t really expected him to, and you can’t find it in yourself to fault him for his feelings. There’s no way you could actually be mad at him.

 This is your fault. You need to deal with the consequences without bringing anyone else into it.

 “What d’you want me to say, Zeke? What’s the right answer here?” You ask exasperatedly. 

 “The fucking truth!”

 “We hooked up, alright? I fucked him! ‘Cause you don’t wanna fuck me, which would be fine if you’d just tell me why, but you won’t!” You’re starting to breathe a little heavy, voice rising as you continue, “I feel like you’re just waiting to see how long it’ll take for me to lose it, and apparently it was last night, and you know what?” You grin at him, nerves on fire the more you let every frustration fly from your mouth. “It was awesome. It was so fucking good, you don’t even understand.”

 Zeke’s eyebrows are high as he lets your little rant die off, obviously annoyed when he asks, “You finished?”

 “I think I am,” you laugh. 

 “Fantastic. Take your shirt off.”

 You choke on your tongue. “Excuse me?”

 “You heard me. Take. Your shirt. Off.”

 “No!"

 “You just said you wanted me to fuck you, so—”

 “Not right fucking now!” Even if you wanted him to, you wouldn’t be able to take him. You don’t think you’ve ever been so sore after having sex, but that could also have something to do with the multiple rounds of being impaled on Mike’s horse cock. God, you already miss it. 

 “Swear to god, if you don’t take it off right now—”

 “You’ll do what? What’ll you do, Zeke?”

 Your breath gets caught in your throat when he lunges at you, one foot planted on the ground as his other knee digs into the couch in a way that cages you in. His nails scratch against your skin as he pulls roughly at the material, and you hear the sound of threads splitting as you grunt and squirm and try to keep the terror rising in your chest at bay because this is not happening. This is not happening. 

 Zeke manages to rip the turtleneck off of you, and you shiver on the cushions as his eyes trace over every inch of you he can see, icy blue somehow becoming colder and colder. 

 “One,” he growls, shoving a finger into your neck. It smarts the way every bruise does, and you bat his hand away only for him to move it to the skin just beneath your collarbone. “Two.” He shoves your bra up to find hickeys three and four, making you wince as he digs a fingertip into both. “Five,” your ribs. “Six,” your stomach. “Seven,” your hip. 

 Your face is incredibly warm, tears stuck at your waterline as humiliation washes over you in waves. And naturally, it just gets worse. 

 “Are you gonna take your pants off, or will I have to?”

 You aren’t breathing deep enough anymore, and you can feel a burning in your lungs as a result. When you don’t answer quick enough, Zeke threatens, “I’ll rip them if I have to.”

 “They’re denim,” you snark, but that last piece of attitude is stomped out when he unbuttons and unzips your pants and tugs each corner, effectively tearing past the zipper. 

 You let out something frighteningly close to a whimper as he pulls them off, then sits between your legs and starts counting the marks dotted along your thighs. 

 “I’ve gotta hand it to him—Zacharias is a pretty thorough guy.” He pinches you a couple times, chuckling at the way you jump and hiss. “Did you like it when he was treating you like a fucking fire hydrant? Marking his territory like a dog?”

 “Shut up,” you grit, sitting up only to get shoved back down by a hand that curls around your throat. 

 You stare at Zeke with huge eyes, finally letting that fear bloom inside you—what is he about to do? What is he about to do?—and as he leans over you, tears start streaming down the sides of your face.

 He lets out a condescending little, "Oh," then lowers his face to run his lips over your temple and whispers, "Don't be scared. It's okay."

 A gentle kiss, and then he pushes himself up, stands, then disappears into his room. You stay on the couch, trying to catch the breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. Shivering as you sit up, you reach for your close only to find them ruined. 

 Zeke must have known that the moment he ripped them off of you (honestly, you should have known too) because when he returns, he tosses a ball of material at you—an old t-shirt and pajama pants. 

 "I'm gonna throw a pizza in the oven. That okay with you?" 

 You blink at him, unable to respond as he glances over his shoulder and makes a face like he's annoyed. 

 "What, are you stupid on top of slutty now? I asked if that was okay with you."

 "I—Ye—I need to leave," you mumble, quickly slipping the clothes on and standing. "I'm gonna leave."

 "How about you just chill and watch a movie instead?" 

 "Why would I want to—"

 The look Zeke gives you is chilling, mouth downturned, one eyebrow raised. It's a challenge, one you don't have the energy or fight to rise to, so you drop back onto the cushions and sigh. 

 It’s fine. You’re fine. He didn’t go nearly as far as you thought he was about to—just got upset. He had a reason to, right? There were better ways to handle it, a fucking conversation for example, but at least now he’s giving you a little space, cooling down in the kitchen while you gather your thoughts. You could go without the name-calling, though. 

 He just lost his temper, wanted to remind you that it’s him you’re with. You have been for a few months now. And, until now, Zeke has been a nice albeit slightly arrogant guy. He’s personable, he’s smart, he’s funny. Most importantly, he’s level-headed. You probably just pushed him a little too far. It could have been worse. It could be worse.

 You play it over and over in your head as Zeke hands you a plate with a slice of pizza on it. You play it when he sits down and throws an arm around you. Then, you play it when he walks you to your car that evening and kisses you like nothing ever happened.

 Could be worse. Could be worse.

 *

 Mike curls his tongue over his bottom lip and squints at the array of cups on the table across from him, picking one out before tossing the ping pong ball with a flick of his wrist. 

 It bounces off one of the cups' rims, and Nile easily snatches it up and smirks at him. 

 "Dude," Erwin starts, frowning when Mike turns to him. "Why do you suck so much tonight?"

 Mike rolls his eyes. "Man, fuck off."

 "No, I'm serious. What's up with you?"

 "Nothin'. Just having an off night."

 "More like off week," Erwin scoffs. "Month."

 Gelgar sinks his ball into the middle cup, and Mike quickly reaches forward to grab it, extracting the plastic before downing the beer. 

 Erwin is right, but Mike refuses to tell him that. He's been off since the last party a couple weeks ago, the last time he saw you—last time he touched you. He's spotted you around campus several times since, but you're always hanging off Zeke's arm, and Mike isn't about to pry you off him (despite how much he wants to).

 Honestly, he's a little surprised at how close you still are with him, how unaffected your relationship is by the hookup. Maybe Zeke just never found out. Mike has tried to ask you about it, sent more than one text, but they've gone unanswered which is a concern all on its own. Two weeks without talking at all. Mike feels like he's going insane.

 Could it be that you're mad at him, upset that you gave into temptation and you're blaming Mike instead of yourself? He understands the need to scratch that itch, but if you really hadn't wanted to fuck, you could have just said so. 

 Mid-terms are next week, so Mike figures if you still haven't talked to him by then, it's definitely time to worry about the state of the friendship. He's trying not to get himself worked up, but honestly, just the thought of you being upset with him is enough to make his stomach roll. He just needs one text. One everything's fine. That shouldn't be too hard for you, right? 

 Mike misses another shot and swears to himself, sticking a middle finger up at Erwin when he throws his arms out. 

 "It's just beer pong, bro. Calm down."

 The party is like every other—loud music, rowdy college kids, too many girls Mike doesn't care about making eyes at him from across the room. He really just wants to go home, but he can't help but stay in hopes that you might show up. It's highly unlikely, but that slim chance keeps him rooted to the spot, missing cups left and right until Nile and Gelgar win. 

 Erwin is not happy as he drinks his share of the remaining beer. Once he finishes the last, he tells Mike, "You owe me for that pathetic fucking display. Tell me what's going on."

 Mike comes close to just turning his back and walking away, but he can see that even through his irritation, Erwin is worried for him. 

 Running a hand through his hair, Mike just asks if Erwin has heard from you at all recently. "I just can't get ahold of her, and I can't tell if it's 'cause she's busy or ignoring me or what."

 Erwin's thick eyebrows knit together as he shakes his head. "No, I haven't talked to her in a while. Did something happen between the two of you?" 

 "I mean, we hooked up at the last party—"

 "Oh, that ended up happening?" Erwin asks, surprised. 

 Even after making up last semester, Mike has tried to keep the details of his sex life with you to himself and away from Erwin specifically.  After the shit he pulled that drove the rift between them in the first place, Mike isn't willing to be quite as open about you as he previously was, but he did have to break that code at the last party when he was convinced you would end up fucking. Buzzed and excited while still at the house, Mike had asked Erwin if he'd be cool with the two of you using his room (with the promise of cleaning up, of course), before you ended up just retreating to the quietness of Mike's apartment instead. 

 So, Erwin knew the potential that evening had, but Mike never followed up with him until now. 

 "Yeah, it did."

 "Well, what did Zeke think of it?"

 Mike shrugs his shoulders. "Dunno. She hasn't talked to me since then."

 "Shit." Erwin looks genuinely taken aback. "It's been that long?"

 "Yeah. I'm trying not to freak out, but like—"

 "No, I get you. If I end up hearing from her before you do, I'll let you know."

 Mike nods, "Thanks, bro," and forces a smile when Erwin claps him on the back, then breaks away from his friend to mope around somewhere else. 

 What if something happened? What if Zeke had found out and lost his temper with you? Mike will murder him if he finds out that four-eyed fuck put his hands on you. Gruesomely murder.  

 If he could take back what you both shared that night, he would. Things seemed to be getting somewhat back to normal between you—talking and making dumb jokes, like you were actually comfortable around him despite your boyfriend. If Mike had known one last night would fuck that progress up, he wouldn't have ever brought it up. 

 Then again, you had told him. I don't wanna fuck things up with Zeke. And, he had still pushed, tried to get you to give in, and god, that's embarrassing. Mike is glad you called him out on his shit, but looking back on it still makes his face heat. That was fucked up. He fucked up.

 "It's Mike, right?" 

 Mike's eyes snap downward, caught off guard by the girl suddenly standing in front of him, dainty fingers with painted nails clutched around a beer bottle. It's the same kind you would drink only to end up giving it to Mike. 

 "Uh, yeah, that's me."

 The girl smiles at him. He's seen her around the college, events shared between both frats and sororities, and the more Mike looks at her face, the more he recognizes her as one of the chicks who used to hang around the baseball team a lot. In fact, he's pretty sure she's—

 "I'm Rhi. You played really well yesterday. I was watching you."

 "Thanks."

 She bats her eyelashes at him as she returns, "You're welcome," then clicks her tongue and asks, "So, who ya' lookin' for?" in a sing-song voice. 

 "What do you mean?" 

 "I mean, you've been scanning this room for the last, like, fifteen minutes. Looking like you're playing Where's Waldo or something."

 Mike snorts, flipping hair from his face as he lies, "No one in particular." 

 He recognizes the look of satisfaction that blooms on Rhi's face, has seen it many times before on many different girls. It makes him sigh inwardly because he really could not be any less interested. 

 "That's good." Rhi's wide grin shrinks into a smirk before she adds, "I was hoping you'd say that."

 Mike feels his mouth tug up on one side in what he's pretty sure comes off as a sad little smile. 

 Fuck it, though. At least she's pretty. 

 *

 Things don't change all that much between you and Zeke. After spending a day or two rationalizing, you're able to look at him and smile again, to laugh at his jokes and listen to his tangents. He's back to playing with your fingers on the table while you sit face to face for lunch, back to shoving his hand in your back pocket while you walk around campus. It's like nothing ever happened. 

 If anything, you start spending even more time with him. He walks with you to and from class whenever he can, tells you to come watch his practices because the teammates he's closest with—his best friends—want to get to know you better. It's all normal, and you get used to the slight change in routine without a problem. You like the Galliard brothers, Marcel who plays shortstop and Porco, the catcher, so it isn't a chore to hang out with them after games and practice.

 What is a chore is watching Zeke talk with his bubbly ex as he walks with her to the science building you're waiting at. Leaning against the brick wall under an awning, you squint as they approach. Rhi is looking at him with those huge, entranced eyes you know too well, a little too much pep in her step making her tits bounce in a way that's fucking impossible to ignore. 

 You shouldn't be territorial. If anything, you should probably still be mad for the stunt he had pulled with you, but… if he gets to be possessive, so do you. It only makes sense. 

 'Cause that's how healthy relationships work, you think with a snort, pushing yourself off the wall when they both stop in front of you. 

 "Babe, you remember Rhi," Zeke reintroduces her like you haven't been at least a little wary of her for the last couple months. 

 "Yeah," you nod, forcing a smile. "How are you?"

 "I'm great!" She grins, looking at Zeke for one reason or another, like he needs to approve her answer, which is fucking dumb, but you also kind of understand because that's just the effect he has on people. 

 "Glad to hear it." You turn your attention to your boyfriend, content to ignore her from here on out, and ask, "Did you wanna grab something to eat before practice?" 

 “Yeah,” he nods before glancing at Rhi and offering a, “Catch you later,” that sounds too promising for your liking. 

 You don’t glare at the other girl as the two of you leave, but you definitely do not smile, and as Zeke drives you both to your favorite cafe, you whine to Hitch through texts.

 i wouldn’t be too worried about it, she tells you. she’s in my psych class and she’s kinda dumb. i doubt zeke wants to put up with that again. probs why he dumped her in the first place

 You try to appear unbothered through lunch, but you’ve had a pretty shitty day so far—woke up late, probably failed a quiz, got no response from Mike despite texting him three times in rapid succession, and then you had to witness that doe-eyed little brat blatantly pine for—

 “You know, you don’t have any right to be jealous, right?” Zeke asks after swallowing a bite of salad. 

 You blink at him, having to process for a second before you understand what he’s saying. And, why he’s saying it. How can he just read your mind like that? You don’t think you’ll ever understand. 

 “‘M not jealous,” you mumble, stirring soup you really have no intention of eating. 

 Zeke smirks across from you. “No?”

 “I’m just having a bad day. Don’t make assumptions just ‘cause I didn’t smile at your little ex.”

 His expression of self-satisfaction falls into a frown, and he asks what’s going on. When you tell him, you purposely leave out the detail about Mike ignoring you because it would only further Zeke’s point about you having no right to get possessive especially considering how fucking upset you are about the matter. Why the fuck isn’t he talking to you?

 “Want me to help take the edge off?” Zeke asks when you finish venting.

 You look at him with one raised eyebrow, tempted to reply with a smart-aleck ‘only if you plan on seeing it through’, but that sounds like too much of an ultimatum, too manipulative. You’ve made it this long without being a shady bitch, and you have no intention of becoming one. 

 He can see the gears turning in your head, leans forward and grabs your hand before urging, “Come over. Skip your evening class, and we can just… Relax.”

 You snort when he wriggles his eyebrows suggestively, possibly the first time you’ve smiled today. “I really shouldn’t skip. We’re reviewing for our exam next week.”

 “All the more reason to. You’re not getting any new information. You can just go back over it on your own.”

 He has a point. You have all the notes and PowerPoints, and the idea of just lounging and fucking is very tempting since the last time you had sex was the night with Mike.

 And, just like that, your stomach is in knots again. Why won’t he just text back?

 Sighing, you come to the conclusion that a distraction is exactly what you need.

 “Yeah, okay. That sounds nice.”

 “Oh, I’ll make sure it’s more than nice.”

 Zeke finishes his meal then asks for a to-go bowl for yours, and after about fifteen minutes, you’re in his apartment. 

 “Let’s watch something while my food settles, and then we can you know…”

 “You know,” you mimic, putting the leftovers up in the fridge then joining him on the couch.

 He turns on some underground horror movie that doesn’t exactly set the mood, but you power through about half of it before all but throwing yourself at Zeke as soon as he pats his lap.

 Chuckling, he helps take your shirt off, kisses your collarbone and murmurs, “Damn, should we just move straight to the bedroom?”

 “I literally could not give less of a fuck. Whatever you wanna do.”

 He grips your thighs and stands, making you hold onto his shoulders for dear life as he walks into the back and drops you on his bed. You immediately kick your pants off, a constant stream of ‘yes yes yes’ running through your mind. You need this. God, you need this. 

 But, when Zeke curls over you, he doesn’t feel broad enough, and when he kisses you, his beard is too thick, and when he trails his hands down your body, they’re barely calloused. 

 You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to turn your brain off—please, just turn off—because you should only be thinking of Zeke. 

 Zeke who circles your nipple with his tongue, who brushes fingers over your bare pussy and groans at how the sensation makes you arch into his mouth. 

 “Can’t wait to stuff this pretty cunt,” he breathes before grazing his teeth over pebbled flesh. 

 His voice isn’t deep enough. His blue eyes have a different shine from the green you're so used to.

 Fuck, fuck, fuck, just let him—

 Shimmying down your body, Zeke spreads you open and pushes spit from his mouth to land on your clit and drip downward. It makes you gasp, and you feel that familiar throb of arousal that grows when he starts rubbing soft circles over the sensitive bundle. 

 “Oh, shit,” you huff.

 Heat pools between your legs as he continues the motion, only stopping to replace his finger with his mouth. 

 You let out a high-pitched moan, thinking to yourself, what about pillows? You can get a better angle with pillows. It doesn’t matter in the long run as he drags his tongue over your entrance, dipping inside for just a second before going back to swirling the muscle around your clit. 

 A finger is pushed into you a little too roughly. It’s not quite long enough, not quite thick enough, but it still feels good, especially once Zeke finds your g-spot and massages it until you’re whimpering and begging for more.

 “You think you’re ready, sweetheart?” He speaks into your thigh, a thigh that was once littered with dark bruises from another mouth. 

 “Yes,” you pant. “Yes, please, please, Zeke.” Even his name feels foreign falling from your lips despite having said it hundreds of times.

 You don’t understand why your mind is sabotaging you like this. You’ve been desperate for Zeke for months now, so why is it that you’re finally getting what you want but can only think about Mike? What is wrong with you?

 He scissors two fingers inside of you, making sure you’re nice and stretched, and you want to tell him to hurry up, that you’ve taken someone substantially longer and thicker, because yeah, Zeke has a nice cock, big enough to be satisfying, flushed pink at the tip and dripping, but it’s doubtful that he’s gonna hurt you. 

 He has a lovely upward curve that drags over your spot as he slides into you, and it makes you groan, eyebrows knitting together as Zeke swears.

 “Fuck, you feel good,” he breathes, giving a few experimental thrusts. 

 You can take him without issue, wet and stretched, and god yes, finally. Finally. His pace quickens, coarse hairs on his pelvis rubbing against your clit and causing your eyes to roll back. Locking your ankles around his waist, you grin at the new angle, and Zeke huffs out an appreciative, “So fucking sexy when you smile for me, baby.” You stick your tongue between your teeth, something between a moan and a laugh leaving your throat, and he coos another, “Feel good?”

 “Ye-es.”

 Your mind is finally cleared—for a few minutes, at least—until Zeke pulls out and tells you to turn over. “Hands and knees.”

 You comply, and when Zeke spreads your cheeks and shoves his cock back into your wet pussy, the memory of Mike’s tongue on your asshole flashes through your brain. 

 “Jesus Christ,” you whine. 

 Zeke’s balls slap your clit with every snap of his hips, the sound of skin on skin ringing through the room. It’s so fucking lewd, the sweat breaking out on both of you only making the noises more obscene. The fingers of one hand are gripping you tightly while Zeke brings his other down on your ass with a little too much force. The burning that follows feels good, makes you hiss and push back against him.

 Pulling out so that only his cockhead is inside you, Zeke stills to focus solely on spanking you, alternating between cheeks as heat radiates from them. You cry and keep moving to the best of your ability, fucking yourself on his length as you get lost in sensation. 

 You lose track of time. Zeke switches between abusing your ass and leaning over you to grope your tits. No matter what he’s doing, you’re moaning, and eventually your own hand travels between your legs to play with your clit, the pressure in your gut becoming too much. You need to come, need that release, and when your back arches and your muscles tense, Zeke growls against your spine, “Fuck yes, come on my cock—just wanna feel you—”

 He lets out a little, “Ha,” when you pulse around him, gushing slick and leaving you overstimulated as he continues to fuck into you harshly. 

 Your arms give out, elbows buckling and sending you falling face first into the pillow. Every noise you make grows in volume but remains muffled. Zeke is relentless in his strokes, but he thankfully doesn’t last much longer, droplets of sweat landing on your back as he curls over you once again, breathing heavily into your ear, “Can I come inside? Lemme come inside you.”

 Before you can realize what you’re doing, you shake your head, turning your cheek to the cushion and panting, “No, don’t.”

 It shouldn’t matter. You’re protected, and you’ve done it before, but…

 You only want to do that for one person. You don’t want to let anyone else.

 “Don’t, Zeke, I—”

 “Did you let him come in you?” He suddenly asks. “Did you let him fill you with cum?”

 He reaches around you to pinch your clit, and you squeal and squirm, trying to get him to drop his hand, but he doesn’t, just holds it with two fingers and taps the swollen bud without mercy. 

 “Did you?”

 “No!” You lie, voice rising. “Fuck, I didn’t let him!”

 Zeke scoffs. “I don’t believe you,” pinching hard enough to make tears spring up in your eyes before letting go. He returns to your hips, blunt fingernails digging into your skin as he gives a few more thrusts and groans, spilling into you then moving you back and forth on his cock, watching his own cum get pushed further into your hole and coat the entirety of his length.

 “God dammit, what the fuck, Zeke?” You speak through gritted teeth, shoving back against him suddenly and with enough force to make him lose his balance and fall backward. You can feel thick fluid dripping down your thighs and turn to glare at him only to find him smirking at you. 

 The space behind your eyes grows hot with tears you refuse to shed in front of him. Instead, you get up and walk to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it before sitting down on the toilet with your head in your hands. 

 You shouldn’t be as upset as you are, generally like the feeling of guys releasing inside of you. It’s just hot. But, you had not wanted it this time. You weren’t ready for it, and now you can’t help but feel… tainted. 

 You pee then hop into the shower to rinse off, to cleanse yourself and calm down, and once the hot water has drained you of most of your anger, you slip into one of Zeke’s t-shirts and go back outside. He’s in sweatpants, sipping on water as he stares at the TV.

 “Feel better?” He questions without actually looking at you.

 You’re free to roll your eyes, but you think you sound convincing when you answer, “Yeah, a lot.”

 He hums. “Didn’t seem like it.”

 “I mean,” you sigh and move to sit down next to him, one leg tucked under you as you think about how you want to word what’s on your mind. “When I ask you not to do something, I, you know, want you to actually listen."

 Now, he turns to look at you wearing an expression frighteningly similar to the one he'd worn the day he humiliated you on the very couch you're sitting in. 

 "Oh, so you want me to respect your wishes." He doesn't sound at all sympathetic. "Kind of like I wanted you to respect mine before you went and fucked Zacharias."

 "Alright," you drawl. "We're back to this again. Awesome."

 He didn't ever explicitly ask you not to sleep with anyone else. At that point, you don't know if Zeke even saw you as a legitimate girlfriend. And, you understand why he's annoyed by your actions, but you're getting extremely fucking tired of him dangling it over your head. 

 "Uh, yeah, we are."

 Taking a deep breath, you try to keep a level head, to appear collected when you tell him, "Look, I see your frustration. I get it. But, me sleeping with Mike is a little different than—"

 "How?" Zeke cuts you off. "How is it different?"

 "Because what you did in there was against my fucking will. I told you not to come inside me, and you still did."

 Zeke is on his feet in an instant. "Is that a fucking accusation?"

 "No, no," you hold your hands up in defense as you peer up at him. "I'm not trying to say that everything that happened in there was non-consensual—"

 "Sounds a lot like you are."

 You're starting to panic. You don't like how hostile he's getting when he isn't even trying to understand you. 

 "You're trying to fill in blanks that aren't there, Zeke. I'm not trying to accuse you or get you in trouble or anything. I'm trying to explain how fucked up—how scary—it is for someone to ignore your boundaries in the bedroom."

 He makes a little, "Tch," then mutters, "You're blowing it out of proportion." 

 It's about the worst thing he could say to you. Firstly, he's the one getting offended by the situation, and secondly, it completely invalidates you. 

 "You're the one who was so desperate for sex you went and fucked someone else," he adds. 

 You massage your temples, figure you need to remove yourself before saying something you can't take back. 

 Your phone is still on the armrest where you left it before going to the back, and it lights up with a text—Hitch—and displays the time. It's only five. If you wanted, you could still make it to your six o'clock class. 

 "You know what, I'm gonna put a pin in this so we can both simmer down. We can revisit it later."

 Zeke doesn't seem to like that solution, or lack thereof. You grab your shirt off the floor then pad back to the bedroom to change into the clothes you picked out for the day, texting Hitch back while you're hidden. 

 She had asked what you were up to, and you reply with, at Zeke's. Could you by any chance pick me up? I didn't drive and we just got into a spat. 

 on my way 😘

 You waste a little time before deciding to brave your boyfriend again, simply telling him that you're just gonna go to class and that Hitch is coming to get you. 

 "Fine," he dismisses.

 You think about giving him a little peck but decide against it, opting to just grab your backpack and slip on your shoes. 

 "I'll text you," you tell him. 

 He replies with a short, "Sure," and you take that as your cue to leave. 

 It doesn't take long for Hitch to get there and takes even less time for her to ask what happened. 

 At last, you give her the full scoop (barring Zeke's meltdown after originally finding out you slept with Mike). She frowns almost the whole way through, and you expect her to either soothe you or tell you that he's being an asshole, but instead, she clicks her tongue and mutters, "I don't get why you aren't just dating Mike. Like, yeah, Zeke's hot and all, but you and Mike have always had a thing. And, you both obviously like each other so whyyy," she ends in a frustrated whine. 

 "Because Mike and I…" You trail off. You don't really know, honestly, not for a few seconds at least, and when it hits you, it isn't some big epiphany. It's more like a natural thought. "Because Mike is long-term. If we got together it would be, like, the real deal. And, I don't think either of us are ready for that."

 It feels good to admit both to Hitch and to yourself. You never thought about it in depth before, mostly because while you've known about his feelings for you for a good while, you haven't fully accepted your own. 

 But, if the hurt you're feeling at him not texting you back is anything to go on (not to mention how much you thought of him while fucking Zeke), your fondness for him has probably turned into something more, something deeper. 

 "I don't understand what's so bad about the real deal, but whatever. You guys will sort it out in your own time."

 "I don't know about that," you mumble. "He hasn't talked to me since that morning. Just won't reply to any of my texts or calls."

 "That's weird," Hitch thinks out loud as she pulls into the parking lot. "If anything, I thought he'd be fighting even harder now."

 "Yeah, well, that is clearly not the case." You grab your bag out of the backseat, guessing, "He must be mad at me or something."

 "Maybe. Maybe he's just trying to give you space."

 Shrugging, you get out of the car, forcing a smile as you thank your friend for the ride. 

 "Any time. One more thing, though," Hitch stops you." You tilt your head in curiosity as her face grows uncharacteristically serious. "Next time Zeke uses that against you, tell him to fuck off. And, consider dumping him."

 "I mean, I did fuck up by sleeping with Mike."

 "Yeah, but you and Zeke aren't gonna work if he keeps holding that over you. Something like that isn't supposed to be leverage. If he can't handle it, he needs to leave."

 It's rare that Hitch loses her happy go lucky attitude, so seeing her like this is a little jarring. 

 "I'll take it into consideration."

 As you walk into the dorms, you pout about how your shitty day only got shittier. All you want to do is talk to your best friend, but that's obviously not gonna happen. 

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #tw noncon #tw manipulation #and just to be safe #tw abuse

[championofsanghelios]

Watch Dogs Legion - "M"

This was written by me, remember. So expect the usual errors, typos and word bugs (bzz.) --- [11.11.2029] [THE EARLS FORTUNE] [2044 HOURS] --- "...that's not my point!" Jackson says as he pushes the door open, his waterproof dripping wet from the rain that was lashing down outside. "You need to stop being so reckless, and actually consider the risks to yourself...as well as others."

"There's no fun in being careful!" Wrench replies, following him in. He was absolutely soaked through, but didn't seem to care. "It takes away the unpredictability...which is what I love about those Ops. Just showing up with my Lady Smash and some home made explosives...it's great!"

"That's another thing I need to talk to you about." Jackson pulls off his waterproof, draping it over one of the radiators near the wall. "There's breaking things, then there's vaporizing them..."

Connie comes out of the back room, letting out a laugh when she sees them both. "Well Well, you two took your time getting back."

"Only because this one here decided an Albion Comms Tower needed to be demolished." Jackson says, moving past her into the backroom where he locates a towel to dry his hair. "I'm yet to figure out how he wasn't caught or killed."

"You're making a name for yourself, Reggie." Connie says, moving around to the other side of the bar. "Not entirely sure if it's a good one, but...a name nonetheless."

"Yeah well, I'm just prepared to do whatever is necessary to take this city back." Wrench shrugs, gladly accepting the beer she places on the bar for him. "If that involves blowing up Albion property or smashing up Blume server stacks with my hammer, so fucking be it."

"It's dangerous." Jackson appears from the backroom, tossing the towel at him. "You better change that sweater by the way. You'll catch a chill."

"What are you my mother!?" Wrench let's out a modulated grunt, pulling up his mask slightly and downing about half of the beer he'd been handed. "Give me a break, we made it back okay!"

"And what happens if you end up getting arrested, or seriously wounded?" Jackson asks, opting for a bottle of water instead of anything alcoholic.

"Oh no." Wrench shakes his head placing his bottle down on the bars surface, his exposed mouth smirking. "There's no injuries with me. Either I get the job done, or die trying."

"You genuinely don't care if you live or die?" Jackson asks, giving him a look. "Seriously?"

"I don't have this for nothing." Wrench points at the anarchy symbol on his neck. "I don't live by rules, that includes the ones to do with life and death."

Jackson is about to say something when the door pushes open and Aiden comes in, feeling about as miserable as he looked. He was wet, but not in the same way the two of them were, something else had happened to him. "Wow! What happened to you!"

"I fell in the Thames." Aiden grumbles, shaking the water from the sleeves of his overcoat. "...actually I dove in there after some thugs caught me stalking them."

"Oh that reminds me!" Connie suddenly pipes up, her hand tapping Wrench's right forearm. "There was a bloke in here earlier on. He was asking for you."

"A bloke?" Wrench replies, questions marks lighting up his askew mask. He downs more of his beer. "Who was it?"

"No idea." Connie shakes her head, smiling. She reaches under the bar, taking out a small piece of white card paper. "But he was lovely, all charms...asked me to pass this onto you."

Wrench eyes the card for a second, opting to pull off his mask entirely. He takes a hold of it, turning it around. Someone had written a note in red-ink.

YOU NEED TO ANSWER YOUR PHONE, MAN ALSO THE WEATHER HERE IS NUTS!!! SEND ME A MESSAGE WHEN YOU GET THIS oh...and thank Connie for the free cookies. - M

He suddenly let's out a cough as he chokes on the beer he's drinking. Lifting the card up. "...motherfucker!"

"What?" Jackson stops trying to wrestle his Uncle out of his coat. "What is it?"

"I'll be right back." Wrench says, leaving his beer and his mask at the bar. He heads out into the rain, ignorant to the fact that it was making him wetter than he already was.

Taking his out his phone, he swipes up the contacts tab, scrolling down until he finds the right number. He thumbs it, his Optik lighting up and dialling.

After a tone or two, he hears a click.

"You took your time." Marcus' voice was something that he would never ever tire of hearing, especially now, especially after all of the shit he'd been through the last year or two. "I was wondering if Connie would get that to you."

"You're here." is all Wrench can say, unsure of what he should do now. Part of him wanted to jump for joy, another wanted to cry. "...you're actually here. In London."

"Yeah, I guess I couldn't just sit there in SF and let you have all the fun." Marcus chuckles. "...that little job we did together a few months back reminded me of how much I enjoyed having you around."

"Where are you right now?" Wrench asks, reaching up this face, rubbing at it. "Are you nearby?"

"Why?" Marcus asks, a smile evident in his voice. "You that desperate to see me?"

"Yes." Wrench admits it there and then. In truth there hadn't been anything he wanted to do more than see him again. "...It was the same for me. I didn't realise how much fun I used to have with you until you found me through, Jordi."

He moves over to one of the benches, sitting down on it. All around him, London was going about it's business, people were walking past, umbrellas in hand, hoods covering their heads. Looking out across Parliament Green, he sighs.

"I hear you've been having some fun outwith our little shared Op." Marcus says. "Something about killing Nigel Cass?"

"He had it coming." Wrench snorts bitterly, shaking his head. "Fuckin' maniac thought he could subvert justice and launch a coup...which reminds me, I've got to introduce you to the Dick."

"The Dick?" he hears the Hipster's confusion. "Who's that? Dusan's cousin?"

"Might as well be." the Anarchist nods, smiling to himself. "His name is Richard Malik...and he's a massive prick...but he's been useful to us."

"Wait...is that the same Richard Malik who was appointed Director of SIRS, only to be exposed literally 2 days later?" Marcus asks.

"That's the one." Wrench nods, sitting forwards. Staring at the concrete between his shoes. "I should send you the vids from when Bagley used his own FILAMENT against him."

"FILAMENT?"

"...what were his exact words?" Wrench's eyes narrow. "It's like...Nudle, but with instant access to all information about every person in the UK...basically George Orwell's wet dream."

The laugh that Marcus let's out is cathartic, such a delightfully bright noise, and one he could never get enough of. One he hoped he would hear more of soon.

It's short lived though, as a whole load of other feelings come to the surface in the pause that follows. He deflates a little. "I've missed having you around, M."

"I know." Marcus replies.

"So where are you?" Wrench asks. "Are you coming back this way? Or am I going to have to find you?"

He gets no response to those questions. His eyes narrow slightly. "M?"

Suddenly there's a movement in his peripherals, at which point a hand appears, holding his mask. He looks at it for a second, almost stunned.

"You're making a habit of leaving that thing lying around..." Marcus says, having just sat down next to him. "...am I gonna have to retrieve it for you every time you misplace it?"

Wrench doesn't move, he just sits there, frozen in place. Marcus had aged, much like himself, but not in the way he was expecting. He still looked pretty much the same as he always had, spare the scruff around his face and neck, which had turned into a full beard...and a little tinge of silver hair on his fringe.

Something shifts inside him at that moment, a tightness in his core that he wasn't even aware of unravels. A laughs bubbles out of him, one that turns to a sob half-way, and without so much as a word he puts an arm around him and pulls him into a hug, hiding his face in his shoulder.

"Huh." Marcus says, placing the mask onto his lap and closing the hug. "Of all the reactions I was ready for...this wasn't one of them."

"Shut up." Wrench says, his voice muffled by his shoulder. "Just-...Just shut up."

Marcus laughs out loud again.

. . .

#watch dogs legion #wrench #marcus holloway #wrencus #jackson pearce #aiden pearce #connie robinson #i wrote this instead of sleeping #good night zzzz

[peach-pops]

hey!! I love your writing and was wondering if u could do a scenario of either iwaizumi or kuroo where they hit the ball too hard and it hits their s/o which also happens to be the manager of their team

Thank you for this request! I hope it’s okay that i decided to write them both cause duh. 

Iwaizumi + Kuroo Hitting Their S/O with a Volleyball

➣Iwaizumi 

“ Iwa-chan, if you stare at her much longer, she’s going to file a restraining order against you,” Oikawa teased as Iwaizumi peeled his eyes off of you and sent a glare towards his teammate who was getting ready to serve,” not to mention your eyes are practically bulging out of your head and it’s making you look like a toad.” 

Iwaizumi slapped the volleyball out of Oikawa’s hands as a small whine came out of the setter’s mouth. Iwaizumi held in his laughter as he watched Oikawa run after the ball and turned his attention back to you.

Iwaizumi had no shame, you two had been dating for a short time but now it wasn’t as big of a deal if you caught him staring at you versus before the two of you got together. You weren’t his first girlfriend but so far, things were already looking out to be good between the two of you. 

There haven’t been any fights or any signs of problems so Iwaizumi had nothing to worry about. Everything worked out perfectly, he was always busy with volleyball but since you were the manager for Aoba Johsai, you two still got to see each other and hang out normally. 

As long as you two didn’t hurt each other, he could see things working out in his favor. 

Of course, he would be speaking too soon. 

“ Hey, less staring and more serving,” You teased as you walked past him carrying a heavy cardboard box filled with some workout gear,” if you practiced as much as you stared at my ass, you would be number one in Japan.” 

Iwaizumi scanned the room quickly to make sure no one was looking and gave you a hard smack on your butt, causing you to yell back a stern, “Hajime!” 

He only chuckled as he grabbed a ball from one of the baskets and started to practice his serves. The Spring High Preliminaries were only a few weeks away but Iwaizumi already felt so confident in himself that they would have the chance to compete in Nationals.

He had never trained this hard before and he was in his element, not only was he serving harder than ever before,  he felt like everything else simply went away when he was playing. 

That’s why he didn’t notice you walking straight into his serve on the other side of the court. He shouted for your name but it was already too late. The ball collided right into your cheek and you cried out in pain as you fell over, sending the boxes straight to the ground. 

Iwaizumi just stood there for a second because no way did that actually just happen, he could’ve sworn it only happened in the movies but once he heard you crying out his name, his legs went on autopilot. 

Iwaizumi ran over to you and practically jumped over a first-year, thinking crapcrapcrapcrap as he slid against the floor and hovered over your body,” Y/N! Shit I am so sorry, can you hear me? Y/N are you okay?” 

You nodded but your face said otherwise as tears leaked out of your eyes. Your whole face was flushed red and there was a huge mark on the right side of your cheek where you got hit. Your whole body felt sore from hitting the ground but you still managed to hold up a thumbs up. 

“ Iwa-chan you could’ve killed her!” Oikawa exclaimed as he kneeled beside his friend,” luckily, your serves aren’t as deadly as mine, otherwise she would definitely be unconscious.” 

You and Iwaizumi both stopped panicking for a moment to glare back at Oikawa as he raised his hands defensively and backed away from the crime scene. 

“ It’s my fault, I should’ve paid attention to where I was walking,” You insisted as you tried to stand up but Iwaizumi stopped you from doing so,” I’m okay, really. It doesn’t hurt that bad.” 

“ I’m going to take you to the nurse, you could have a concussion,” Iwaizumi said as you waved him off. 

“ Hajime, I don’t need-”

“ Shut up and let me carry you,” Iwaizumi huffed before he scooped you up in his arms and carried you bridal style to the nurse,” god you’re so stubborn, you know that?” 

He knew you were pretty headstrong and most of the time, he let it slide but since it was a matter of your health, he just ignored you whining on about how you didn’t need to see the nurse. 

It was silent most of the way to the nurse as if you both had a feeling that there was a good possibility that you had a concussion but when the nurse actually confirmed it, Iwaizumi’s heart sank. 

No matter how much you tried to convince him that you felt fine, he knew it was 100% his fault and he felt even guiltier when the nurse told you that you should take a day off from school. 

“ Don’t worry, I’m gonna be right by your side all day tomorrow, okay?” Iwaizumi reassured you as he walked you back home,” I got all of your homework from your teachers but you don’t have to worry about it cause I’ll help you through it.”

“ Hajime, you still have school. You can’t miss it just because I have a concussion. Trust me, I’ll be fine without you.”

“ Please just let me take care of you. I already feel shitty as it is, let me look after you for my own sanity,” Iwaizumi sighed as you bit the inside of your cheek. 

His teammates always saw him to be serious most of the time and sometimes a bit too brash but when it came to you, he was so sensitive and even though you felt perfectly fine, you eventually caved in,” Okay, only because you’re begging me. Remember, you have to take care of me so that means you have to give me sooo much attention and you can’t complain.” 

“ I never complain,” Iwaizumi huffed as he pulled you in closer to his side. 

➣Kuroo

“ Please Tetsuro, just one quick game. It always looks so fun watching you guys play and it’s not like I’m terrible,” You pouted as your shoes squeaked against Nekoma’s gym floors,” I’ll let you take Kenma and I’ll even have Lev on my team if it makes it easier for you.” 

Kuroo wrapped his hands around your waist and hummed as if he was considering your offer. You were the manager for the boy’s volleyball team but you always pestered your boyfriend to let you play because he knew you got bored on the sidelines.  

“ Fine, only because you asked so nicely,” Kuroo smirked as he leaned down to plant a light kiss on your lips before calling some of the boys over. 

He took Kenma and Yaku while you had Lev and Teshiro and you each took your spots on opposite sides of the net. 

“ You know babe, I’m not gonna go easy on you just because you’re a girl,” Kuroo said with a wink as you rolled your eyes. 

“ I’d be offended if you did Captain,” You teased back as Lev took his spot to serve. 

For the most part, you could keep up with the boys and while Kuroo got some spikes past you, you managed to return the favor and send them flying his way. The score was tied at this point and you looked up at Kuroo through the net, who was resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. 

“You know you can stop going easy on me or wait, are you playing at your best?” You mocked playfully as you wiped some of the sweat off of your forehead with the back of your hand. 

Kuroo could only let out a hasty laugh; even though he wasn’t playing at 110%, he wasn’t holding back on anything and that’s why he was so exhausted. 

“ You’re gonna regret that babe,” Kuroo sighed as the next point went into play. 

You watched closely as Lev spiked the ball over but Yaku easily slid down to reach it, sending the ball up in the air for Kenma to set. 

Focus, just focus you thought as Kenma set the ball over to Kuroo. 

You waited and counted to three before jumping up and spread your fingers out. You were directly in his path and you both knew that there was no way around it. Kuroo took a steady breath and slammed the ball down as hard as he could, sending the ball straight into your nose. 

Kuroo saw it all happen in slow motion, once the ball hit you right in the face, the ball rolled over the net and onto his side but he didn’t care about the winning point. He watched helplessly as you grabbed your nose in pain and hit the floor with a loud thud. 

You groaned and held tight onto your nose, trying your best to not get any blood on the gym floor because you knew you would have to clean it up later. 

“ Motherfucker,” You cried out in pain as you started to feel tears stream down your face,” i-is it broken?” 

Kuroo kneeled beside you as Kenma quickly went over to the bench to grab a towel,” I- uh there’s a lot of blood can’t see but I don’t think so. Fuck, does it hurt baby?”

“ Of course it hurts! You pummeled me in the face,” You whined as Kuroo quickly grabbed the towel from Kenma’s hand and held it against your nose,” did I block it?” 

Kuroo’s mind was going all over the place, he was more worried about him hurting you than if you had won or not and it took you asking three more times before he heard you,” Yeah you blocked it with your face dummy, congrats you won. I’m gonna take you to the nurse okay?” 

“ Yes please,” You groaned sarcastically as Kuroo carried you in his arms and you let out a laugh,” I can walk perfectly fine thank you very much.” 

“ I know but I look more heroic like this,” Kuroo teased back to clear some of the tension,” but god, Y/N I’m sorry I almost killed you. I’ll make it up to you baby I promise. ” 

“ Don’t flatter yourself Tetsuro, the spike wasn’t that hard,” You said as you pointed to your nose” you better hope you didn’t break my face, this is my moneymaker right here.” 

Kuroo was thankful you weren’t angry at him but he still felt so guilty because you both knew it hurt way more than it looked,” You’re beautiful no matter what babe...but see? I told you I wouldn’t take it easy on you.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu headcanon #haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyuu hc #haikyuu!! hc #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #nekoma #nekoma x reader #nekoma headcanon #nekoma hc #nekoma smut #kuroo #kuroo x reade #kuroo headcanon #kuroo hc #kuroo smut #tetsuro kurro #tetsuro kuroo x reader #tetsuro kuroo headcanon #tetsuro kuroo #tetsuro kuroo smut #kuroo x reader #aoba johsai #aoba johsai x reader #aoba johsai headcanon #aoba johsai smut

[broadstbroskis]

thanksgiving | jeff skinner

a/n: it’s here!!! this is like 4k that i threw together in like a week after i took it as a personal challenge from @blueskrugs after i asked why we don’t write more thanksgiving fics. a huge shoutout to her and @danglesnipecelly, for inspiration and cheering me on for this, as well as literally anyone else who’s cheered me on to finish thing, you’re all the real mvps and i love you all 💚

-----

Jeff shrugs, and from across the table filled with pizza, beer, and a bunch of other things that are most definitely not on his approved list of foods, you stare at him.

“I dunno. I don’t really have plans, I guess? Probably just sit at home, relax a little?” He says. Your jaw drops. He has...he has what now? “You're going to your parent’s right?” You nod slowly, still stuck on the fact that he’s going to sit at home and do nothing on Thanksgiving, the best of all holidays. Not spend the day with some teammates, not make a quick trip to his family, nothing. “That’ll be fun!” Jeff grins, dimples popping. “What are you-”

“You’re doing nothing?” You get out finally, the words coming back to you.

Jeff’s smile falters, but only slightly, and he nods. “Yeah? I mean, there’s no practice, no games. I’ll just…” He trails off for a second and then shrugs. “Rest.”

“You’re not going to go, like, visit your parents? They’re right across the border!”

“It’s a Thursday.” Jeff says patiently and you abruptly remember that his Canadian-ness is the whole point of this conversation.

“Thanksgiving is the best holiday! You can’t sit at home alone on it; I forbid it!” Jeff’s smile grows again as he laughs and you try and fight your own grin as you shove at his shoulders, to no avail. “Come home with me!”

“What?” He laughs again, but this time, it’s more like disbelief.

But the idea is already growing in your mind. “Come home with me! You know my parents love you, they won’t mind at all!”

“I can’t just invite myself to your Thanksgiving!” Jeff protests.

You wave him off. “You’re not, I’m inviting you! Come on, we’d love to have you!” He still looks hesitant, so you add, “Our Thanksgiving is huge anyway; one extra mouth to feed isn’t going to put anyone out, Jeff.”

“Alright.” He caves, and you grin, pulling your phone close to you to text your mom and let her know. “But ask your mom, okay? Like, really ask her, don’t just, like, tell her I’m coming.”

“Too late!” You say cheerfully, showing him the text you’d sent in your family group chat, telling them you were bringing Jeff with you next week. Your mom’s already responded with a string of happy face emojis and your younger sister with a How I Met Your Mother gif about Canadian Thanksgiving. “Be prepared for a lot of Canada jokes!”

“Is that supposed to be different than any other time I see your family?’ Jeff deadpans, but you’re pretty sure he looks like, at least 50% more relaxed, so you count this as a win and ignore him completely, already mentally planning for the best holiday of the year.

-----

The drive back home to your parents takes about an hour longer than you’d like, stuck in the same godawful traffic as everyone else trying to leave Buffalo on Wednesday so that they can get back home in time to go out that night. 

When Jeff finally pulls his car up in front of your childhood home, you can already see that it’s bustling with activity, getting ready for tomorrow. Most of your siblings have already arrived- only your older brother, with his wife and daughters will come in tomorrow, with the rest of your family- but your younger brother and sister have already come home, a fact that’s even more evident when you and Jeff walk in the front door and immediately trip over three pairs of sneakers.

“Liam!” You cry, grabbing onto Jeff so you don’t fall. “Motherfucker, move your shoes!”

Your brother pops his head out of the living room, AirPods in his ears. “I’m on a call!” And just as you're marveling at the fact that your brother is a real person with a real job taking real work calls, said real person with a real job spots Jeff and lights up. “Jeff! Bro! What’s up, man?”

“I thought you were on a call.” You snap at him.

“I’m on mute.” Liam slaps his palm against Jeff’s pulling him in for a ridiculous handshake-bro hug combo, before he finally comes over and lifts you off the floor. “Yo!”

“Yo!” You repeat, honestly unable to believe you’re related to this kid. If the two of you didn’t look exactly alike, you’d probably think he was adopted. “You still coming out tonight?”

“Hell yeah, this is my last call. I’m ready to go.”

You snicker, looking down at his sweatpants and dress shirt combo- he must have taken a video call at some point today. “Yeah, okay, bud.”

He ruffles your hair, in that annoying way he’s been able to do ever since he grew taller than you. “Don’t you worry, I will be.”

You laugh, ducking under his arm, to let him get back to it. You’ve got no doubts about that. Liam’s always ready to party. “Finish your call so we can start pregaming.”

He grins, like you knew he would. “Now we’re talking.” And then he ducks back into your dad’s office.

Jeff is laughing when you look back at him and you give him a look. “What?”

“Nothing, just forgot how the two of you were when you got going.”

“Yup, and you’re stuck with us for next two days!” You grin.

Jeff rolls his eyes at you, but he’s still smiling when he follows you to the kitchen, in search of your mom. She’s at the counter, rolling dough for biscuits, her only other contribution to the annual Thanksgiving dinner that she hosts, besides the turkey; a holiday that she’d taken over hosting once it had become too much for your grandmother to handle, but only on the caveat that everyone began contributing food toward the meal. It’s been a potluck style holiday ever since.

She’s ultra-focused, the volume on her favorite playlist high (this wild mix of 80’s pop and today’s hits that’s actually kind of a banger), so you sneak up behind her and wrap your arms around her. “Hi!”

“Jesus!” Your mom jumps, elbowing you in the process, but you’re laughing too hard to care. “Don’t do that!”

“Just excited to see you!” You beam at her, squeezing her once more, before pulling away. “Where do you want the pie?” Jeff lifts the pie you’d made yesterday, showing your mom.

Your mom purses her lips, studying the kitchen around her. “Leave it on the counter for now; I’ll have your dad clear some space in the garage.” She gestures with her elbow. “Hi Jeff!” 

“Hi!” Jeff pulls out his best smile, a real one, dimples super popped. “Thank you for having me-”

Your mom cuts him off before he can finish, like you knew she would. “Oh, we’re so happy you could make it! You’re welcome anytime, Jeff!” She assures him.

“Is the guest room ready?” You ask. “We’ll throw our stuff upstairs before Dad sees it at the bottom of the steps and has a fit.”

Your mom fights back a laugh at that- a statement that everyone in your family knows all too well-but then looks almost apologetic as she finishes, “It is, but we gave it to Katie.”

“Oh, Katie’s here too?” Your sister’s roommate at college was, at this point, basically another sister to you. She hardly went home for breaks within the semesters, usually came up for at least a month during the summer, and more often than not came home with Abby when she was back for anything. The “guest room” really was more like Katie’s room at this point. 

“Where else would she be?” Abby appears, right on cue, with Katie right behind her, practically matching in leggings and oversized sorority shirts. “It’s Thanksgiving; she’s ready to rage tonight.”

You actually can’t wait for the babies to be hungover tomorrow-both were 21 for their first Thanksgiving Eve and you know they’re going to be in a super rough spot tomorrow-but you keep that thought to yourself. 

“It didn’t even occur to me!” Your mom says apologetically. “I just gave Katie her usual room.”

“No, it’s cool. Jeff and I can share. He doesn’t mind, right?” But you barely even wait for his shrug and nod in agreement. It’s not like you haven’t before, when you’re either too lazy or too drunk to go home. You’re both adults, it’s no big. “I’ve shared a bed with you before; I’ll spare Katie the bruised shins.” You tease your sister.

Katie cracks up as Abby sputters out how rude you are. “It’s a hazard!” Katie agrees, dodging the swat your sister sends towards her. It sets the two of them off, which you take as your cue to grab Jeff’s hand and drag him (and your stuff) up to your room.

Of course, usually when you’re sharing a bed with Jeff, it’s a king sized bed, or at least a queen- definitely not the double that your parents just shoved in your old room to replace the queen bed that had been in there until you moved out and took your furniture with you. You hadn’t realized how small it was though, not until today, until the idea of actually having to share it with someone, with Jeff, who might not be a giant, but isn’t tiny.  “Sorry.” You apologize, almost unsure of what you’re saying.

Jeff shrugs. “Well, at least you don’t kick.” He smiles, as then it’s like everything’s back to normal, that awkward feeling that was growing over you gone as quickly as it came. 

“She’s a bruiser, don’t let her tell you otherwise.” You throw your bag down, rifling through it for the sweater you were planning to wear tomorrow, to hang it up so it isn’t too wrinkled.

Jeff laughs. “I’ll take your word for it.” He’s holding up his shirt, a button down and a tie. “Where can I hang this?”

“You can’t wear that!”

He frowns, likely at the vehemence you’d just spoken that with. “Uhh, why not?”

“You’ll get roasted.” Seriously, you’d told him it wasn’t a dressy affair. God, what part of not dressy does he think requires a tie? “Don’t you have, like, a sweater?”

“I mean, yeah, but-”

“Sweater and jeans, that’s fine.”

Jeff gives you a look. “That doesn’t seem-”

“Sweater. And jeans.” You repeat. He’ll thank you tomorrow, when your uncle doesn’t ask him when tea is. When your cousin doesn’t talk to him only in a fake British accent for the entire night. 

Jeff hands over a sweater, a soft thing you’ve seen him wear on many occasions, and you smile your thanks at him, hanging it up next to yours. “Meet your standards?” He asks; you think he’s aiming for teasing but he kind of misses the mark, sounding a little more nervous than joking.

“Perfect.” He smiles back at you and you laugh. “Come on, you dork. Let’s go see what’s for dinner tonight.”

-----

“Don’t wake me up when you come in tonight!” Your dad calls, as he drops the five of you off at Mel’s, the bar for Thanksgiving Eve. Your friends are already at the bar, you’re anticipating a high school reunion for sure, and you’ve warned Jeff of this, even though he assured you that he could handle it, and he was just excited for a nice, chill night.

You’d actually laughed out loud at that. Oh Jeffrey. 

“Pshh.” Liam waves your dad off. “I haven’t done that since I was like 16 and still having to sneak out.”

Your dad gives him a look. “I was talking to your sister.” He looks over at Abby, who ignores him completely, in favor of taking a SnapChat with Katie, and he sighs resolutely. You all absolutely know she isn’t listening to a word he says. “Have fun, be safe. Uber home.”

Liam salutes him. “Will do.”

Inside the bar, the night starts exactly as you and Liam have started your last few Thanksgiving Eve’s-with a round of shots at the bar as you’re ordering drinks, before splitting off to find your respective friends to start the evening.

Jeff fits in with your friends fantastically, laughing and joking around with them like he’s known them forever, even though you’re sure the only one he’s met is your oldest friend, Ashley. But he greets Ashley and her husband, Brian, like old friends, and quickly joins conversations with all your other friends, and soon hours have passed before your brother is sliding up behind you. “Heads up.” Liam mutters as he passes. “Douche at 3 o’clock.”

You tense as it takes everything in you not to turn and look over. “Hey.” Jeff nudges you, concern clear in his eyes as he looks at you, and you’re not sure what he pulled himself away from, but you must look pretty bad. “You okay?”

You nod, kinda spacily, but leaning in closer to him, and he takes the cue to curl in toward you- you’re not really interested in shouting to the entire bar and you’re really not interested in drawing attention to yourself. “Yeah, just- my ex is over there.”

Jeff purses his lips for a minute and then schools his face back to neutral. “I take it things didn’t end well.”

“No.” You say, thinking of the demise of your relationship with Dylan. “It did not.”

You hadn’t even realized that Jeff grabbed your hand until he’s squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You shake your head. “It was...definitely for the best.” It might have taken you a while to see that, but you can now, even if the rare instances you still see Dylan sometimes rattles you. “I thought I was going to marry him, at one point, but I’m so much happier here now.”

Jeff smiles. “Good.”

You squeeze his hand once more, a thanks for his comfort and care, before both of you rejoin the conversation, and you forget about Dylan entirely for the next hour, until you physically run into him coming back from the bar with another round of drinks for you and Jeff.

“Hey!” Dylan beams at you, goes right in for a cheek kiss, like you’re still that familiar, and once again you stiffen up.

“Hi.” You return politely, ready to sidestep around him and return to Jeff and your friends.

“No, wait.” Dylan steps with you, blocking your path. “I haven’t seen you in forever. Let’s catch up a minute, what’s new?”

“No offense, Dylan, but I’m not really looking to catch up with you.” You say flatly.

He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can another voice cuts in. “Everything okay here?” Jeff asks politely, stepping very purposefully next to you, and Dylan’s eyes immediately fly over to him.

“Mhmm,” You nod. “Was just on my way back to you.”

“Good.” Jeff says, in a tone far more harsh than you usually hear him take. “Let’s get back.” He positions himself again, clearing a space for you to easily slip past Dylan, and then steps closely behind you, catching up quickly.

“Thanks.” You lean against him, gently, not looking to spill either of your drinks, but Jeff solves that problem by taking his.

“Any time.” Jeff says softly and you don’t have much else to say on the matter so you just nudge him once more in thanks and walk back toward your friends with him at your side.

-----

When you wake up the next morning, you’re warm and comfortable and only a little hungover, which you count as a huge success. There’s not too much noise going on downstairs yet, which means you definitely have some more time to sleep, so you curl back into your pillow, humming contently when it pulls you in closer.

And then your eyes pop open abruptly, because pillows don’t do that.

Except they do when they look like Jeff Skinner, who looks just as soft and warm and comfortable as you feel right now, still sleeping judging by the evenness of his breath. 

It’s just...it’s a really nice way to wake up, with Jeff’s kind-of smiling face, looking super soft and cozy as he breathes just on the wrong side of too loud, but not so loudly that it drives you nuts. 

It’s a little too early to unpack that, and your hangover might not be that bad but it’s definitely bad enough that you’re not ready to think on that, so you close your eyes and let yourself curl into Jeff and fall back asleep.

-----

When you do finally get out of bed, Thanksgiving morning is its usual chaos, running around with last minute errands, cleaning, and helping your mom in the kitchen. The last to shower for the day, by the time you arrive downstairs, the Lions vs. Bears game is well underway, your notoriously early grandparents have already arrived, and your grandmother is already asking your mom where that one turkey decoration she bought her one year is.

You bypass the kitchen entirely and move toward the living room, where you find your dad, grandfather, Jeff, and siblings all gathered, just as you’d expected. You slide down on the floor next to Jeff, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before more of your family arrives and you’re offering your set up anyway, and wait for the next round of chaos to begin.

It doesn’t take long. Your aunts, uncles, and cousins start pouring in and then it’s just introduction after introduction, as you wrap up showing off Jeff to one group just as the next arrives. You are absolutely confident he has no idea who anyone is, but it’s fine, because he’s still laughing and joking around with all your uncles and cousins that have joined you in watching football. 

The kitchen is its own brand of chaos, when you make a quick stop in on your back from a beer run, but chaos has never stopped your aunt before and it certainly isn’t today. “Oh my god!” She exclaims, after you’ve pressed a smacking kiss to the top of your grandmom’s head. “That boy!”

“What boy?” You ask, like an idiot, which is immediately clear from the looks you get from everyone in the kitchen, even your usually oblivious uncle, who’s doing...something...with the ham they’d brought. “Who, Jeff?”

“Yes.” Another aunt stresses. “He’s cute!”

You shrug. “Yeah, I mean-”

But your grandmom cuts you off this time. “And so friendly! Just the nicest boy! Oh, you couldn’t have found anyone better!” She exclaims.

“Well, I haven’t.” You announce, watching all of their faces fall. “So sorry to burst that bubble.”

“Why?” One of your older cousins frowns. “Girl. Get on that. You are not going to do better than that boy in there.”

“I truly don’t know if that was meant to be a dig at me or you all think that highly of Jeff already, but regardless. We are just friends.” Now everyone in the kitchen is giving you a look. You gather the beers and retreat, distributing them as you return to your spot on the floor near Jeff.

He’s giving you a look as you pass him his, but whatever’s on your face must not be too bad, because he just thanks you as you pass him the bottle, and you nod in return as you try to find the same comfortable spot as before, leaning against his thigh.

-----

Your dad catches you a bit later, as he’s coming back with beers this time and you’re coming out of the bathroom, and he nudges you carefully as you take a few bottles from his hand. “So Jeff?”

You groan. The tone of that statement was far too loaded. “Jesus, you too?”

Your dad laughs. “Who else?”

“Everyone.”

“Well maybe that should be your hint.” Your dad says teasingly, but also not? There’s definitely some seriousness to this. “That Jeff’s pretty perfect for you.”

You stare at him. “You’ve met Jeff, like, a hundred times. Why’s this coming out now?”

“I always thought you were my smart kid and that you’d figure it out yourself.” He muses. “Now I realize you’re only book-smart and you’d never figure this out on your own.” And then he leaves you there in the hallway, with your jaw dropped and too many thoughts, as he continues on, laughing at you.

-----

When the call to come serve yourselves echoes into the room, the usual mad scramble follows immediately. It’s only as you’re getting into line behind your brother that you realize that Jeff’s not with you anymore, and you abandon the long line waiting for food, in favor of seeking out Jeff.

You find Jeff upstairs, in your room, just kind of lounging on your bed, and you lean against the doorway. “Hey! Food’s ready.”

“Yeah.” Jeff nods, the smile he sends you back in return far too tight and forced to be genuine. “Be right down.”

But he doesn’t move, so you step in and climb into your bed next to him. “What’s wrong?”

Jeff laughs; it’s kind of hollow and doesn’t sound anything like his usual loud laugh or his giggles that you love. “What- nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Jeff.” You say softly. “Come on.”

He sighs. “Why did you bring me here?”

That...was not at all what you expected. “What?”

“Why did you bring me here?” He repeats. “Why did you bring me home, to your family? I thought, maybe, finally…” He trails off for a minute. “Except, there’s like ten other randos here too!” He laughs again, that hollow thing that you’re already hating. “Everybody in this family just brings people home, and that’s awesome, okay? Please don’t ever change that about yourself. I just-I thought we had something special, is all.” He says, sounding almost sad? Melancholy? 

“You are special.” You hate this. Jeff should never be sad; he should always be happy and smiling and joking. This is worse than seeing him after losses, worse than seeing him at low points in the season, that one game when he realizes that shit’s done and they’re just playing to keep playing now, that playoffs won’t be coming this year, again. “Jeff, you’re-”

“I’m in love with you.” Jeff says and it’s so straight-up, matter-of-fact, like it’s never not been a fact for him. “And I’m sorry I’ve fucked things up here for tonight and made this so awkward. I just- being here with you and your family just made me want you that much more.”

There’s so so so much you want to say to Jeff, but it’s like time is frozen. You can’t speak, can’t move, can’t do anything except look at him in awe, until he starts to move off your bed, when you reach for him, finally, resting your hand on his thigh, relieved when he looks back at you. “My dad thinks I’m an idiot.” You blurt out and Jeff just gives you a look. “I’m sorry; that wasn’t what I wanted to say.” You take a deep breath, trying to gather the jumble of thoughts in your head. “Or at least, not the only thing. He thinks I’m an idiot because he thinks you’re perfect for me and I didn’t see it. My whole family thinks you’re perfect- cute and friendly and nice- and god, Jeff, you are! You’re all those things!” He’s still watching you, with like, barely the smallest hint of a smile on his face. “I just-didn’t realize you were perfect for me until we came here.”

Now he’s full on beaming, dimples showing, and you don’t even realize that you’re returning the grin until his hand comes up to your face, thumbing at the corner of your lip. “I’m sorry I’m a dumbass.” You finish lamely, too busy smiling at Jeff. “Please kiss me so we can make sure we get biscuits.”

Jeff hums. “I don’t know if I can kiss you now and just...stop.”

“Well I’m not going down to eat until you do.” You say stubbornly. “And you’ve been hyping up those biscuits since breakfast.”

“Fair enough.” Jeff laughs and then you’re smiling into the best first kiss you’ve ever had, tangling your hands into his hair and wondering if you may actually end up missing the meal this year.

#jeff skinner imagine #jeff skinner fanfic #jeff skinner fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey fanfic #Hockey Fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #my hockey fics

[spiderling-space]

Henlo Liho-san~! A new follower of yours uwu May I ask for hcs of how the dorm leaders would react with having an f!s/o who is mostly respectful and polite, suddenly about to throw hands with someone as they may or may not have said or complained about the dorm head they were dating. It was not a compliment in any way or form- I hope I didn't cross over any rules! But if I had to pick 5 out of 7 of them, it's Riddle, Azul, Idia, Kalim, and Vil. Thanks a bunch if you notice this~! Good Luck!!♡♡

Hey yo Nocturne! I know of you from liking I and Brew’s OC (twisted-whimsies): Mozerella Trein and a couple TW related posts of mine.

Prefects and Vice Prefects are exception from character limit.

After finishing this, I realized I wrote something between a ficlet and headcanon. I hope you’ll like it though 💕

My German knowledge is bugging me to write Vil’s surname with ö instead of o yet my order-loving side is telling me to stick to how it’s written in TW

Before I start I’m gonna add a quote from a fandom of mine 👀 one look at my OG blog would reveal which fandom it is.

“Fallaces sunt rerum species”

Meaning: The appearances of things are deceptive

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle can handle himself. At least he could before his overblot episode. No body dared to talk behind his back.

But now he holds back, not using his unique magic frequently anymore which caused some students think he became too lenient and a couple students started to abuse this leniency

Every time someone tries his patience he counts to 10 internally or just ignore them. Don’t get him wrong, he still sticks to rules and makes his dorm follow the rules but he cannot force people to stop talking about him

Today is going to one of the days when he would ignore any bad mouthing because he is with (Y/N), the sweetest person he ever met

(Y/N) already saw at his worst when he overblotted. He doesn’t want her to see any more incidents such that.

He and (Y/N) decided to take a walk in Rose Gardens as a date. Then decided to get into Rose Maze, holding hands strictly for to not get lost.

“Prefect Rosehearts became such a softie. He is no longer fit to be our prefect.” “He never was. Mommy Issues needs to go back to kindergarten.”

(Y/N) and Riddle were in East side of Rose Maze when they heard 2 Heartslabyl students talking which made (Y/N) stop in her track. Riddle tugged her hand to move on but she didn’t budge.

“Riddle, honey, either push away those bushes or I’ll climb over it and have a nice chat with them.”

“There is no need.” — “okay then I’m climbing”

And she did. Riddle didn’t know how but she managed to go to other side of bushes by climbing to them.

“Hey jackasses! Would you like to say that again?” The two students were shocked to see Riddle’s girlfriend jump from above. “Wh- what?”

“I asked if you wanted to say those to my face.” And no answer.

Meanwhile Riddle was on the other side of bush walls, listening what’s happening.

“Did Riddle or did he not manage to increase Heartslabyl’s average grade?” “He did...” “Did he or did he not helped your dorm to have better ranking at Magift?” “He did...” “Did he treat you unfair ever since he fixed how he acted?” “No...” “Then what makes you say he is unfit? Is it because he is more tolerant on rules? Is it because he cares how his dorm mates feel?” No answer again. “I hope you come to your senses now because next time I hear something like this will be the first and last time you taste my wrath. Are we clear?” — “Yes ma’am!”

(Y/N) climbed over the bush again and landed in front of Riddle. With a kiss to his cheek, “Just because you give less punishment doesn’t mean you need to let people bully you. If anyone else acts this way, I’ll have a talk with them.”

She held his hand and pulled him into the maze again. Meanwhile Riddle was still wondering how his girlfriend climbed over a maze’s wall.

🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁

Leona Kingscholar

Leona is used to people bad mouthing about him back in his palace. While in Savanaclaw, his dorm mates respected him and didn’t dare to oppose him. That is until they saw his vulnerable side during his overblot accident.

He heard a couple dorm mates say “He can’t do anything by himself.” “Good for nothing.” “All that lazy lion does is sleep.” “He must have lack brains to repeat the same year over and over again.”

He is used to ignoring them and sleeping it off. And his favorite pillow, (Y/N), helped him to dismiss their thoughts.

Leona only asked (Y/N) out because he figured she would be great body pillow. Certainly not her lively and cheerful attitude, nor her bright smile.

Leona asked (Y/N) out for a night date in Savanaclaw. It’s because he wanted to nap in his dorm. It’s absolutely not that Savanaclaw lounge looks romantic at night.

When (Y/N) arrived, she unfortunately heard those.

Leona tugged her arm to lead her to where their date suppose to take but no avail.

“Hold my purse, kitten.” (Y/N) handed her purse to Leona and went where those dorm members stand.

“Hey there is something in your face!” The main jerk looked up “Huh?” Proceeded with a punch to his face. “It was PAIN!” And ended with the guy falling to ground, holding his nose.

“Does anyone else have something on their faces?” The remaining ones shook their head in NO. “Good.” She turned on her heels and went to Leona’s side.

All Leona could do was admire her right hook. He did not think how she wouldn’t feel out of blue in Afterglow Savannah if she were to live there because women in his hometown are strong and fighters.

🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙

Azul Ashengrotto

(Y/N) first caught Azul’s eye when she sat down for 7 hours to read every single detail in his contract and demanded a change in certain conditions. Azul refused to make contract with her then offered her a job in Mostro Lounge.

With persuasion from the twins, Azul gathered courage to ask (Y/N) out. And she accepted.

They often stayed late hours in Mostro Lounge to spend some alone time.

After their quick date followed by closing of Mostro Lounge, Azul walked arm in arm with (Y/N) until the mirror passage. As they were walking, 2 Octavinelle student were messing around.

“Look at me! I’m the crybaby who hides behind two eels!” — “No one is making contract, I’mma cry now!” — “Maybe I can turn my crying into money. I can sell all the ink I cry!” “Nice one dude!”

One look to Azul’s face, (Y/N) understood he would deal with them either personally or the twins would play with them.

Not today Satan!

(Y/N) let Azul’s arm go and slowly approached the duo. “I am (Y/N), you can’t insult my boyfriend like that; prepare to die... socially I mean...” — “What are you saying?”

“I don’t have patience, time nor crayons to explain this to you but I’ll let you on a secret. Sometimes a nasty rumor, which doesn’t have to be true, can ruin someone’s entire school life. Maybe telling everyone your secret wish that you once asked from Azul or you offering a different type of payment to teachers to pass the grade.” — “You can’t do that!” — “I can and I will unless you cut the crap, ask for forgiveness and work for free in Mostro Louge for a week.” — “It’s a deal!”

Azul came to (Y/N)’s side as the two boys run away. Azul once again saw his angelfish using her wits to get what she wants. He knows she didn’t need to do that but he is flattered by the fact that his girlfriend wants to protect him.

🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim asked (Y/N) out after spending time together after Jamil overblotted.

He is still the sunshine bean that brings smile to everyone’s faces. (Y/N) is as cheerful as Kalim and that’s why he hit it off

Kalim took (Y/N) to another carpet ride as a date. She loves the feeling of wind on her face on top clouds.

As they returned to the dorm, they heard a couple students talking.

“I don’t care what Jamil did. He was right! Kalim is unfit to represent us. After he became prefect, we became the last at everything.” — “How many Kalim can change a light bulb? None because he is too idiot and too incapable to change one. Hehehehe”

(Y/N) saw tears building up on Kalim’s eyes then she snapped. She made carpet to fly over them in law altitude then she jumped down in front of them. “Surprise motherfuckers!” Before anyone can understand what happened. (Y/N) kicked the one that made bulb joke between his legs then held and twist the ear of the other two. “You have 10 seconds to reconsider what you just talked. I suggest not to waste time.”

The trio tried to dismissed what they said but the glare they received made them comply. “Prefect Kalim, we are sorry to make fun of you.”

Kalim as the personification of sunbeams forgave them. Then turned his attention to his beloved. He was impressed by how she jumped down and was ready to protect him without any hesitation. He never thought someone as kind and happy person as her could hide a fighter in her. Not going to lie, he loves seeing this side of hers

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑

Vil Schönheit

Being with Vil is exhausting. Don’t get her wrong, it’s not him (Y/N) is complaining. It’s the people around them.

(Y/N) started paying more attention to her appearance

(Y/N) was waiting for Vil to get ready, sitting on his bed. Vil had free time that day and they were going out.

As they went out of the room, whispering ensued as always but this time, for the first time, a Pomefiore student bad mouthed about Vil.

“He is compensating his wretched personality with his looks!”

Vil isn’t someone to care opinions of a no-mark but (Y/N) is

“Hold my earrings, my love.” (Y/N) took out her earrings and handed them to Vil. “I’m going to snatch his wig!” — “He’s not wearing a wig...”

“I take it you weren’t burned with overabundance of schooling. You think you’re a Gucci but you’re not even Lacoste. Now apologize before I think your face needs a makeover.” — “Gucci? Lacoste?” — “And I suggest hide your jealousy better. You can’t get near Vil as a fan and you try to make up for it by talking about something that you have no idea on. Honestly I am jealous of people who haven’t met you.”

(Y/N) waves back the boy, going back to Vil’s side then putting her earrings again.

Vil is quite pleased what has occurred. Not only he saw how (Y/N) can destroy someone with just words but he also saw a glimpse of what she thinks of him. Maybe he should hire some people to insult him so he can see this side of hers again.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Idia Shroud

Idia tries everything he can to stay in his room but there is an anime con that he and (Y/N) are going so he needs to get out of his room.

Idia and (Y/N) dressed up as his favorite anime couple.

Idia left his room voluntarily without any compulsory reason! It became a quick hit topic in Ignihyde.

Idia and (Y/N) went to anime-con and Ortho tagged along to record the ordeal.

They had to return early because some drunk in the con spilt juice on (Y/N).

So they returned NRC then Ignihyde. Ortho left for somewhere as Idia and (Y/N) walked in Ignihyde lounge.

“He doesn’t even go Dorm meeting but doesn’t have a problem with going a stupid con! Idia is an embarrassment to Ignihyde! All he does is play games and ramble about them!”

(Y/N) coughed gathering attention from the group.

Idia freaked out by being in highlight, hand pulled his chest, eyes widened.

“Baby, get behind me.” (Y/N) stepped in front of Idia and strutted to the Ignihyde student that was shit talking. “Pick a God and pray.”

The boy gulped. “Wh-What?!”

“Did I stutter?”

“I don’t know what—“ He threw his hands to air in frustration. (Y/N) grabbed his wrist, twisting and pulling his arm. The momentum caused the boy to fell face forward. (Y/N) still holding his arm twisted, “Now, dear, you’ll apologize and promise that you’ll never speak of Idia that way. Then get out of my face or else..” — “Yes ma’am!” The boy did as he was told.

Idia couldn’t guess in a million years that his goody two shoes girlfriend was capable of pulling this stunt. What he saw right now made him think the fighter beautiful ladies in anime. It was like a dream come true for him.

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

Malleus Draconia

People feared Malleus for a really long time that he couldn’t remember anything else.

People avoided and tend to talk behind his back yet those didn’t reach insult level.

Who was stupid enough to dare that?

Malleus asked (Y/N) if she wanted to explore Diasomnia dorm and hear about the gargoyles of Diasomnia.

Of course she would love it. She loves when Malleus goes on about gargoyles for hours. And she is the only member in his club. Plus nightly strolls are their dates.

“He has no friends and no body loves him. For goodness’ sake, his intimating aura makes rest of dorm unapproachable! Can’t he just be gone already!?”

No genius is needed to know who that Diasomnia student was talking about.

Malleus’ mood turned sour immediately. He could curse that boy but this would only prove those wretched rumors.

(Y/N) finds Malleus’ sulking face extremely attractive (he is too attractive to be real) but no one has any right to upset her beloved.

“I’m about to end this man’s whole career.”

“Dear, wait me here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Off (Y/N) went to defend Malleus’ honor.

“Hi there! Couldn’t help but hear you. Have you ever thought you have no friends because you’re an ass?” — “Who do you think you are? Oh it’s you.” — “It’s me Mario!” — “Huh???”

“Now now, let’s talk shall we? All you do is complain yet you don’t do anything to improve anything. You hold others accountable when you fail while there is no one but you to blame. You’re so wrapped in your tiny bubble that you can’t see outside world. That’s what small minded people do. Whoever told you to be yourself simply couldn’t give you any worse advice.” The guy was left speechless, gaping like a fish out of water. “Close your mouth or else you might swallow a fly.”

(Y/N) went back to Malleus side, winking at him. His heart skipped a beat, thinking this was such a queen act. Defending her beloved with her words. To be fair, Malleus finds everything (Y/N) does a fitting trait for a queen, the way she rambles, snorts, breaths, smiles...

Malleus only wishes he met (Y/N) ages ago.

#riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #savanaclaw #octavinelle #scarabia #pomefiore #ignihyde #diasomnia #prefect #female reader #headcanons #heartslabyul

[senchoubutter]

Rook Hunt sPICY TIMES

None of you fuckers wanna write it so I will owo || French word translations/guide is at bottom of text

pairing : Rook Hunt x Fem, Shy reader

word count : 3.3k

contents : classroom sex, female receiving oral, over stimulation, vaginal sex, Rook being a confident lil teaser

 After the whole fiasco with Eliza, ______ found herself quite needy and even a bit jealous. Seeing her boyfriend go off to try his hand at being a possible option to the ghost bride, sparked a flame in her. That was her boyfriend. Not some ghost’s prospect.

As soon as Rook returned to the college, the rest of the boys that had been rejected in tow, ______ grabbed Rook by his hand. She promised herself that she wouldn’t overreact and that she’d be that perfect little angel that people always told her to be growing up. But as soon as she saw the playful smile Rook greeted her with, her whole face was bright red and she dragged him to open and empty classroom. The whole way Rook wouldn’t shut up, cooing and joking about how assertive she was. Very funny, but this only got to ______ more as he poked and prodded at her jealous. This was very uncharacteristic of his meek girlfriend all together. What on earth could’ve gotten into her, Rook thought.

As she pulled him into the classroom, she blurted out that ‘Rook, you’re my boyfriend! I don’t want to share,’ and a pout quickly placed itself onto her lips. Her blush flared up again and warmed her cheeks at her sudden confession. But while she was embarrassed she even got this jealous, Rook was grinning ear to ear. This was what got her so worked up? Precious. That’s his ______ for ya. Always so soft spoken and skittish. But now, she resembled the tomato Heartslabyul called a dorm leader, but only a little bit.

Without missing a beat, he slowly backed her up into a desk. It was almost like a tango in the way that each step Rook took forwards, _______’s soft foot steps repeated backwards. His hands rested on her hips, tugging the skirt hem ever so slightly up as he set her on the desk, sitting her on her bum rather than the skirt. Ah, much better to see now. Rook was able to examine her face much closer and he was living, getting a new dose of serotonin each second he saw that trademark flustered face.

He leaned in and placed a kiss against her ear as he felt her delicate hands find their way to his shoulders. “How cute,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you.”

“Pr-Promise?” _____ whined. She curled back a bit as Rook’s hand tangled in her hair. Gently he gripped the back of her head, trapping her in place as he came up for a kiss

“Promis.” Rook leaned in to her lips, ghosting over them, his breath on hers. He waited, a smirk growing as his girlfriend gave another whine, closing the space impatiently. As expected of her, he thought as a throaty hum of a laugh buzzed in his throat. Rook always played these games, seeing how his love would squirm and whine at his teasing. The flustered expression and needy actions drove him up a wall, only egging on his ego and want to play with her. Each reaction fed the hunter instincts in him. And each time it was like the first.

With each needy kiss, the clicking of the pairs lips resounded throughout the empty room. Rook could feel the heat that radiated from his lover’s cheeks and gave a satisfied moan. In turn, the moan buzzed against _____’s lips, tickling. She moaned back but more so at the lack of air only to be granted with a dirty trick.

Rook slid his tongue along _____’s bottom lip as he he let go of her hair. His hands gently gripped her hips. In one swift motion, he yanked ______ to the edge of the desk, hips knocking with her core as her thighs parted to rest on either side of Rook’s torso. As ______ let out a gasp in both shock and need, Rook took the chance to delve his tongue into her mouth, emitting another dark chuckle.

Rook’s hands trailed down, grabbing the back of his girlfriend’s knees, forcing her even closer. As his tongue searched every inch of her mouth, he felt ______’s hands gently grabbing the black coat that he adorned. He smirked, pulling away from her seeing a bit of drool besides the corner of her mouth.

“Allow me.”

Rook shrugged off his jacket, setting it on the desk behind him. He removed the hat he wore, setting it right atop of the jacket and inhaled slowly. When he turned around, he had the most devious grin on his lips. “Minette,” he cooed as he bent down before ______.

 "R-Rook..“

 ”Ma cherie, you’ve been quite bold today, you know,“ the huntsman purred. His gloved hand slid up the skirt of his beloved girlfriend, sending a chill down her spine. She placed her hands behind her on the desk, trying to balance herself as Rook’s other hand pushed her right leg up over his shoulder, granting him easier access. “I wonder,” he trailed off.

He was quick to invite himself underneath the black skirt, grinning at the sight before him. “I see someone has decided to be quite bold, indeed.”

“Rook!” she hissed in embarrassment. She knew exactly what his cocky ass was talking about. ______ had chosen to not wear any underwear at all that day. She wasn’t entirely expecting to have sex in a classroom but she did figure that the confrontation when Rook returned to Night Raven College would go one way or the other.

It was either fight, which was very unlikely for the pair. ______ hardly got angry and if she had an issue, she approached Rook in a calm manner, typically in private.

The other was having sex - granted, she thought Rook would’ve at least taken her back to his dorm first. This was not their first time, not by far. Rook was a very passionate individual and ______ was happy to experience and receiving all of his passion. It wasn’t a constant thing since both were often busy but it was enough times for Rook to know exactly what excited ______ the most and got her going.

Rook waved off her embarrassed cry, slowly spreading the lips of her pussy. Dripping. She was dripping wet already. His gaze grew glazed over in a playful dark haze as he came out from under her skirt. Those emerald eyes gleamed up at his flustered partner.

“I see now,” he hummed. Taking his right glove in his teeth, he yanked the black material off in one swift movement. He proceeded to do the same with the left, setting them on the desk besides ______. “Tell me, minette. Did you plan for this all along? Hmhm.~”

“N-No- Well.. I-I mean,” ______ stammered. Rook nestled himself between her thighs as if it was his natural habitat, watching her grow more and more flustered. His fingernails ran along the underside of her thighs, making ______ jump and whimper. He knew that she was very sensitive to that. He’s playing more dirty than usual.

“Take your time.”

As soon as ______ went to open her mouth, Rook began to pepper kisses languidly up her thighs. Dammit! Both the sensations Rook administrated left _____’s head spinning, thoughts foggy.

“R-Roook,” she breathlessly whined. It was almost like a braindead call for help. The blonde knew exactly what he was doing as he grew closer and closer to the area his talents were currently being requested. But each time he’d get right to the sopping center, he’d b-line over to the other thigh. “Pl-Please.”

“Please, what? Use your words, ma cherie.”

The final blow. This asshole. First he makes her thighs incredibly sensitive, then goes placing kisses everywhere but her pussy. Now, he’s gunna force her to say it. She always understood why but it never made it easier. Rook wanted direct consent but ______ struggled with telling him directly what she wanted. Here and there, he’d be direct in asking if she wanted xyz, but when he wanted to really rile her up and throw her confidence out the window, he made her tell him.

Raising a hand to hide behind, ______ let out a mumbled.

“Hm?~”

“I-I hate you,” she groaned, biting into the back of her hand that she hid behind. “Pl-Please…pl-pl….” _______ took a second to recompose herself, gathering up the courage. “Please touch m-me. U-Use your tongue o-on me. I need you, Rook.”

“Of course, princesse.”

Dipping back under the pleated skirt, Rook’s positioned the right thigh back over his shoulder, giving a bit of leverage. Of course, he didn’t stop teasing her other thigh though. Non, non. He was gently tracing circles with his fingernails on the soft thigh’s back side as Rook’s tongue poked out, giving a short flick over ______’s clit.

Immediately it sent a shiver down ______’s spine as the warm wet tip of Rook’s tongue circled the bundle of nerves. The blonde teased at the bud, speeding up only to slow down a few seconds later, and back and forth. Rook drew back for a second, letting out a sigh. The warm cunt before him twitching at the cold sudden sensation. This in turn, made Rook smirk.

Flattening out his tongue, Rook gave a long slow lick along the folds, tasting his beloved’s slickness; the salty taste faintly invading his mouth with each pass of his tongue. He could hear ______ begin to pant softly as he licked up.

“Hah, R-Rook,” she whimpered. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk, holding on for dear life. It was almost as if it was the one thing grounding her and keeping her sane as Rook attempted to steal away each ounce of sanity. His tongue always felt amazing. Maybe it was the emotions and hormones, or the setting - maybe even both, but for some reason Rook’s tongue felt heavenly. ______ struggled to keep herself quiet, knowing that people were still around. Class wasn’t exactly over yet. Heck, Vil or Epel might be searching for Rook seeing as ______ took off with him as soon as he returned to campus.

As if on cue, Rook shoved his tongue into her vagina, wiggling it a bit. Immediately, ______ let out a yelp, walls clasping about his tongue. Her back tensed at the strong muscle inside her, wiggling.

“R-Rook!”

______’s hands grabbed at Rook’s hair as she whined loudly. She did her best to be gentle with her grip, but this cocky motherfucker, he only attempted to push his tongue in further. In turn, ______ let out another moan, too caught up to remember where she was.

“R-Rook, i-if you’re going t-to do that, u-use your hands..”

Rook pulled his tongue out and looked up with an evil grin. He licked at his lips, saying “Happily, princesse. Do remember we’re in a classroom, though. You wouldn’t want to get caught now, would you?”

Rook placed a kiss on _____’s clit before grinning devilishly.

“Or maybe,” he paused before practically slamming a finger into his girlfriend’s pussy. “you’re into that.”

It took every cell in ______’s body to hold in her yelps and moans as he fucked her with his pointer finger. Each time Rook’s finger slid in, ______ gasped, trying to silence herself.

“Y-You’re doing this….”

Before she could even finish, Rook’s mouth had returned along side of the finger now. He began to suck on her clit, tongue swirling the bud in his mouth occasionally. Rook heard _____ choke on her words and smirked against her clit. He could felt himself getting hard and his pants growing tight, but this wasn’t about him right now. It was about ______. He knows he can ignore his growing erection for longer than most, choosing to focus on his beloved instead at the time. It was clear she needed that today, maybe even a little more than typical.

The tug at his scalp became tighter as Rook continued to suck on the red pearl. He could hear just how wet ______’s cunt had become. Easing up a bit on the sucking, Rook slowed his finger’s pace, slipping a second into the rhythm. It was tight but that was to be expected ______ was getting close already. Maybe….Rook thought, just perhaps, he’d gone a tad over board.

“Ro- ok!”

He picked up his fingers pace, feeling ______’s walls clenching more and more at each thrust. She’d begun to buck her hips in time with them, like an animal in heat. Her left leg came up, ankles meeting, draped over and pretzelled around Rook’s shoulder. 

“I-I’m g-going to..!”

Rook gave a hum as a sign to go ahead and that was all it took to send _____ over the edge. The vibration from Rook’s lips on her sensitive clit was the last straw. She bit her hand trying to be quiet, grunting and gasping as she rode out her orgasm.

Her head was thrown back, strands of hair sticking to the sides of her face, and her chest heaving when she finally settled down. Rook felt the bud on his tongue pulsating from aftershocks but refused to let up just yet. He was far more gentle now but that along side the soft squelch of the cum that now coated the fingers he pumped in and out, were already sending ______ back on the rollercoaster. She whimpered and tried get Rook to let up, impatiently patting the desk almost as if to tap out.

Rook did eventually give up, standing up to look in his girlfriend’s eyes again. He licked at his lips before going in for a sloppy, brief kiss. ______ was quick to wrap her arms up around his shoulders in place of where her legs had just been.

He pulled away, resting his forehead on hers and chuckled. “Ma cherie, are you perhaps able to go again?“

“My…My legs are k-kinda shaky.”

“I will carry you back regardless.”

“I..O-Okay..”

Rook gave a soft smile, tucking away some of ______’s hair behind her ear. “Êtes-vous certain?“

A phrase Rook had taught her. The first time that they ever had sex he asked her that. Rook had even taught her both proper responses. Whenever he asks that in a soft tone, it reminds ______ of their first time. It fills her stomach with butterflies; this time was no different.

Looking into his eyes, ______ nodded, “Je suis.”

“Good girl. I’m so proud,” Rook whispered. He gave a gentle kiss to her forehead then.

As much as he loved the sweeter, softer moments, Rook did have a bit of a tight situation to take care of. With ______’s consent now, he began to unbuckle his pants. He unbuttoned and pushed down both slacks and boxers to his thighs. You know, just enough to let his cock spring out to say hello.

Rook was longer than he was thick, so ______ thankfully didn’t struggle too much taking it typically.  _______ held up her skirt for him and watched as he brought his dick to her folds. As soon as his head touched the wet lips, ______’s chest heaved a bit, shuddering. Everything was very sensitive still. Just Rook’s tip bumping up against her clit was a lot to handle at the moment.

Thankfully, Rook took note of how tense his girlfriend was. Granted she had begun to dig her nails into his shoulder, trying to cope with the sensitivity. After getting his cock slick with _____’s cum, he begun to slowly push himself into her cunt.

“R-Rook!” she practically screeched. Her nails dug into his shoulders,a far more piercing sensation this time. “J-Just get i-it in…D-DON’T STOP.”

Oh, goodness. He did his best to make it as painless and slow as possible but from the way his girlfriend barked that last bit at him, he could tell just how sensitive she really was. As soon as he had fully sheathed himself inside of _____, he brought her into a tight hug, arms wrapping about her waist.

_____ took a very shaky breath and her clawed grip switched to Rook’s back as he hugged her. Tears flooded her vision and threatened to fall, but ______ tried her best to blink them back. As she adjusted better to Rook’s cock, it became much easier to breath and relax.

“I can stop. Would you like to just return to my room, minette?”

“N-No. I’m okay. J-Just…s-sensitive.”

“Then I shall be gentle.”

And just as promised Rook began to rock his hips back and forth at a gentle pace. He leaned into ______’s neck and began to suck and pepper kisses all over. When he tugged down the collar of her shirt, he was able to hit a sensitive spot and began sucking. Rook felt ______’s nails ease up on his back and rather become a gentle grip on his vest and shirt.

“Ah,” _____ gasped. She let her head lean back and allowed herself to embrace all of the sensations and feelings. Aside from the sucking noise and faint panting, the wet smack of Rook’s cock grinding in and out of ______ filled them room. She took a moment to think about how taboo and dangerous this scenario is. Any of the students or teachers could walk in. She hadn’t exactly been the most quiet. And as she thought about it, she found herself reaching closer to another high already. Something about the risk made her adrenaline go off running and brought her closer and closer.

Rook on the other hand, was pretty close, and had abandoned making hickies. He panted, head in the crook of ______’s neck. He picked up his pace a bit, chasing after his own orgasm. He felt ______’s walls clenching down and he smirked a bit.

He reached down with one hand and began rubbing circles on ______’s clit again with his thumb. She immediately let out a moan and her breath hitched. Perfect, Rook thought. He kept his pacing not too fast but not too slow, trying not to hurt his girlfriend too much. But it was obvious that she was close with just the added touch again.

As the pair chased after their orgasms, ______’s nails returned, digging into Rook’s shoulders. Her pussy clamped down on Rook’s cock and her eyes practically rolled back as she reached her second orgasm.

Rook was so close though and abandoned rubbing ______’s clit, grabbing her hips. He began to ram into her faster, a tight grip on her hips that was sure to leave a bruise later on. But that was the last thing on his mind at the very moment. Rook’s breath hitched and he gave a final slam of his hips into _____’s, hot ropes of cum shooting inside of her.

The pair caught their breath, a mess of sweat, tangled limbs, and cum.

______ was the first to pipe up, letting go of Rook finally. “W-We…We should g-get out of here,” she advised. That shy soft voice had returned as she was no longer caught up in her own pleasure. The embarrassment of it all stained her face red to which Rook could only chuckle.

He slipped out of ______, causing her to let out a soft moan that was hidden behind her hand. Rook put himself back into his pants, quickly redressing himself as if nothing had happened at all. As he placed the hat he loved back on his head, he reached for his gloves besides _____’s waist. Slipping them on he offered his hand to his lady whose face once again resembled that of Heartslabyul dorm leader’s when he lost his temper.

She tried to hop down for the desk but lost her balance immediately. Her legs were shaking and she could barely stand as Rook’s arms wrapped about her for support.

“Je suis désolée. I said I’d carry you,” Rook said with a tinge regret for not acting quick enough. He swiftly picked up his girlfriend and gave her that charming smile she loved. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Th-Thank you..”

—–

I feel like a few of these are easy but i put them here in case:

Promis - I promise/ Promise

Ma cherie - my darling

Minette - kitten

Princesse - Princess

Non - no

Êtes-vous certain? - Are you certain?

Je suis - I’m sure/I am

Je suis désolée - I’m sorry

#rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #spicy #twisted wonderland #twst #fem reader #twisted wonderland rook #rook hunt twisted wonderland #fanfiction #rook hunt x you #rook hunt x mc

[bxcketbarnes]

Royal Betrayal

Pairing: Gardener!Ashton Irwin x Princess!Reader

Words: 1800+

Author’s Note: Hello, it’s me again. I’ve got this pretty cute fic here that I hope you guys will like. I feel like it’s kind of rushed but hey, I still kind of like it lmao. Let me know what you guys think, mmkay? Have a good one xox

"I cannot believe that he's trying to sleaze his way into the royal family," you mutter to yourself as you stroll through the garden. A sigh leaves your lips while rubbing your face, trying to calm yourself down.

To think your ex-boyfriend dares to try and please your parents, which he never liked in the first place, just so he can get in on the wealth is astonishing. You wonder why you went out with him. Crazy ass motherfucker.

As you continue to walk through the garden you end up tripping over some tools. A shriek leaves your lips and you lose your footing before crashing onto the ground.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry, m'lady," a familiar voice panics and rushes towards you, getting onto one of his knees. "Are you okay?"

You stare up at the blue sky as a small amount of pain flows through your body. Your eyes meet your gardener's and let out a short sigh. "Physically or mentally?" You question and he raises an eyebrow.

"Let's start with physically since my equipment tripped you," the black-haired man chuckles and you sit up, dusting the dirt off of your shirt.

"I'm okay. It's not like I haven't taken a tumble before, Ashton," you tell him with a giggle and the man lets out a breath of relief.

Ashton helps you up and you dust the rest of yourself off before running a hand through your hair. "That's good because if you ended up getting hurt your mother would kill me," Ash mumbles and you wave your hand, letting out a scoff.

"No, she wouldn't. She'd scold you a bit, but that's it. She loves you too much," you say with a grin.

The black-haired man chuckles in response, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "You seriously okay, though? You seemed… upset?" He asks and the smile falls off of your face, a deep breath coming from your lips.

"Do you remember Jake?" You mumble and Ashton internally groans at the mention of your ex-boyfriend but nods his head.

"Unfortunately, yeah," Ashton mentions as the flashbacks of the two of you making out in the garden play through his head.

He was always jealous of Jake for having your complete attention and at one point you didn't even talk to him because of the guy.

You notice Ashton's jaw clenching and you furrow your eyebrows a bit before shaking your head. "Well, he's trying to sweeten up to mom and dad so he can be in the royal family," you spit angrily while crossing your arms over your chest. "And I don't know what to do about it. I don't just wanna go up to my parents and be like, "hey, don't listen to this fool," you know?"

"I'm sure they'd listen to you, Y/N," Ash tells you, his fingers running through his hair. "You're their daughter. They should listen to you."

A sigh leaves your lips as you direct your gaze back towards the house, nodding your head. "You're right, Ash. Thank you," you smile and Ashton returns it, bringing his hand to your shoulder.

"You got this."

-

Ashton walks into the house to tell the Queen that his duties were done for today when he stops in his tracks at the sound of screaming. "Mom! I'm telling you that he's only doing it for the money!" You scream as you pace in front of your parents, baffled that they're not listening to you. "He never cared about you guys! How can you not believe me?"

Your mother sets down her teacup before sitting back against the couch. "You know he mentioned that you would try to do this," she states and you stare down at her, feeling the tears come to your eyes.

"You know nothing about him. You know what he shows you. I know him. I know how he really is! The fact that you're "siding" with him over your daughter hurts," you whisper as your voice cracks.

Ashton's heart breaks at the sound of your voice, his hand knocking on the door. "I'm… sorry to interrupt," he mentions as the three of you glance over at him. "I just wanted to tell you I finished my duties. I'll be in the guest house if you need me."

You tear your gaze away almost immediately, wiping the tears that fell from your eyes. "Thank you, Ashton. We'll see you tomorrow morning," your mother grins and Ashton nods his head, glancing at you once more before walking away. "Now, your father and I are trying to make plans for dinner with Jake. We'll talk later, sweetheart."

A scoff leaves your lips and you shake your head. "I won't be attending," you spit and walk out of the living room, rushing out of the giant house.

You find yourself heading towards Ash's place that's on the property, just needing to get away for a bit. You run your fingers through your hair as memories with Jake flash through your mind. More tears stream down your cheeks as you step up to Ashton's front door, knocking softly.

The door opens and you immediately crash your body into Ash's. His arms wrap around your shoulders as you cry into his chest, gripping the tank top he's wearing.

"So, turns out I was wrong," he mumbles into your hair, trying to lighten the mood and a short laugh comes from your lips.

You pull away from him, wiping your face before taking a deep breath. "He has them brainwashed. I… I honestly don't know what to do," you inform him, and Ashton strokes your cheek gently.

"I don't know either, Y/N. I thought for sure they'd listen to their daughter." Ashton thinks back to the conversation he overheard, his eyebrows furrowing together. "What did you mean when you said that you know how he really is?"

You dip your head, low-key wishing he hadn't heard that. You run your fingers through your hair and Ash hooks his finger under your chin, making you look at him. "He… um, he used to abuse me," you whisper and the black-haired man's eyes widen, his grip on your chin tightening a bit.

Ashton notices you wince and he removes his hand from your face, muttering an apology. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asks in a hushed whisper, his eyes softening as they meet your vulnerable ones.

"He would threaten me. It's why I distanced myself from you. I'm sorry," you confess to him and Ashton pulls you back into his chest. You take a deep breath and wrap your arms around his waist. "If I hurt you I didn't mean it."

"It's okay," Ashton whispers and presses a light kiss to your head. Your hands move up Ashton's back, nuzzling your face into his chest.

A sigh leaves your lips and you pull away from him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "It's not. To know that I hurt you hurts me," you tell him and graze your fingertips along his arms.

Ashton gives you a small smile and brings his hand to your face, gently stroking your cheek. "You're here now. That's all that matters, sweetheart." Your heart flutters in your chest and you lean into his touch.

The space between the two of you starts to diminish when someone loudly knocks on Ash's door. You jump and glance over your shoulder to see a figure standing just outside his place.

"Who's that?" Ash mumbles quietly and you shrug your shoulders as the black-haired man heads towards his front door. You follow him, your hand resting against his lower back as he opens the door.

The smug smirk of your ex-boyfriend stares you in the face and your stomach drops. "Y/N, my love! There you are!"

Your hand grips the tank top Ashton's wearing, swallowing the lump that's forming in your throat. "What are you doing here?" You ask and Jake holds his hand out to you.

"Your mother didn't tell you? I'm here for our dinner," he tells you.

"It's nowhere near close to dinner time," you mumble and Jake's eyes move from you to Ash.

"I thought I told you to stay away from her," he snarls at the gardener and Ashton lets out a scoff.

He crosses his arms over his chest, staring down at your ex. "The two of you aren't together anymore, so I believe that's not in effect anymore," Ashton states coldly and you rest your cheek against his shoulder blade.

Jake laughs maniacally and shakes his head, his dark eyes moving to yours. "Well, the Queen has offered her hand to me so whatever this is," he gestures to the two of you and a sharp gasp leaves your lips.

"No," you whisper and look up at Ash. "No… no, she wouldn't do that without asking me first-"

"Oh, but she did sweetheart. Now let's go," he growls and reaches out to grab your arm when Ashton steps in front of you.

"She's not going anywhere with you. So, you can inform the Queen that she'll see her later," Ashton stands up for you and Jake scoffs.

He walks away from the two of you, mumbling to himself and Ash closes his door before letting out a sigh. "This can't be happening," you mutter and run your fingers through your hair. "I can't fucking believe this is happening."

"Hey…" Ashton coos and rests his hands on your shoulders. You look up at him with tears in your eyes and the black-haired man pushes some of your hair from your face. "It's okay. We'll figure it out. I promise."

You nod your head and Ash brings your body into him. "Thank you," you mumble into his chest as the two of you find yourselves in each other's embrace again.

"What if…" he trails off and you pick your head up, seeing his hazel eyes looking at everything but you. "What if we get married before your engagement."

Your eyes widen at his idea, Ashton's eyes finally meeting yours and you can see the admiration in them. "You want to marry me?" You ask in a whisper and Ash smiles at you.

"I do, yeah. You're such an amazing woman. You're kind, funny, quirky at some times but I've loved you for years," he confesses and your cheeks blush.

"Ash…" you mumble as your heart beats quickly in your chest. "I'd love to marry you."

The Gardener places his hands on your face before pressing his lips to yours. Your fingers run through his hair as you kiss him back, your free arm wrapping around his neck.

A giggle leaves your lips when Ashton pulls away, his forehead resting against yours. "Let’s go get married, yeah?" You grin up at him and his thumb glides across your bottom lip.

"Let's go get married, love."

-

Taglist: @calpalirwin @myloverboyash @sexgodashton @ashxxxirxxx @prettymuchxarreaga @aladyofalbion @philthepegacorn @calumspupils @fallinallinturner @bvbygxrl @suchalonelysunflower @spicylftv​ @marshmallowtraver​ @devilatmydoor​ @jessalyn-jpeg​ @maddz-world​ @everyscarisahealingplace​ @itsasadfishworld​ @talkfastromance4​ @notinthesameguey​ @iwritesiriusly​ @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof​

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin imagines #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin x you #ashton irwin x y/n #ashton irwin one shot #ashton irwin oneshot #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin 5sos #5sos #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5sos preference #5sos preferences #5sos x reader #5sos x you #5sos x y/n #5sos one shot #5sos oneshot #5sos fluff #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer preference #5 seconds of summer preferences

[perpetually-forgettable]

Chapter One

Chapter Summary: We meet Bucky and reader in their junior year of high school and get a glimpse into their relationship as they lose a bet. Certain events reveal that perhaps both reader and Bucky feel something a little less innocent than just friendship.

Warnings: Lots of swearing, sexual tension, confusion, implied masturbation

Word Count: 3,544

A/N: So this is my first ever fanfiction, and I'm nervous to post a different version of a much-loved character, things will become more canon later on though. I'm new to writing in general, but especially various POVS, so hopefully it all makes sense. 

****Takes place in September of their Junior year of high school. They're both 17 but turn 18 on March 10th.****

Your best friend is James Buchanan Barnes, you call him Bucky. Your best friend since birth, seeing as the two of you were born on the same day, 30 minutes apart. And damn those 30 minutes too, because he liked to act like he was eons older than you and would tease you about it constantly. You grew up together, lived next door to each other all your lives because your mom was best friends with his mom. You celebrated birthdays together, even when you were upset with each other. You shared a party every year, blew out your candles together, took turns opening gifts but always waiting until the end to open the gifts you gave each other.

“Man, this is bullshit.” He hollered while slinking down on the small couch sheepishly, barely even on it anymore.

“MOTHERFUCKER!!!! Goddammit, Barnes, I told you we had a sniper on us. I told you not to go for the loadout yet!” You huffed at him while the sniper took you out after trying to revive him. The screen showing you placed 3rd. You quickly stood up and angrily pressed the buttons on your controller to get out of the game lobby before plopping down on your back on his bed.

“I told you. I fucking told you, Buck!! Now we owe Steve 50 bucks.”

He didn’t reply. Only staring in your direction on his bed with mixed emotions. You played Call of Duty: Warzone frequently. Either together or alone and you were good. Hella good. So good that Bucky’s friend from the football team made a bet with you guys. The bet was that him and his friend Tony would place 1st and have a higher kill count than you and Bucky, whoever made it the longest got 50 bucks, whoever got the highest kill count got to choose a new bundle with weapons and stuff that the loser had to pay for. You and Bucky placed 3rd, but Steve and Tony were still alive, so they automatically won the 50 bucks. You spectated them while they played still to see the ending kill count. You had the highest.

Bucky finally spoke. “I’m sorry y/n. That was totally on me.” He sighed and moped towards you and plopped onto the bed face first next to you.

You turned your head to him. “Your damn right it was. You have to pay him the whole 50 bucks, I’m not paying half for your fuck up.”

“Ugh. Fine. Just shut up about it already.” Closing his eyes.

You crossed your arms under your breasts and taunted “No, I don’t think I will.”

He lifted his head and looked your way with a smirk. Then he began to try to shove you off his bed. You squealed and tried to hang onto something or roll over to the other side or anything to keep you from hitting the floor. Giggling and screaming you grabbed his pushing hand and rolled over closer to him, ending up laying prone on his back while he was still face down on the bed. Both of you stilled for a moment to catch your breath. He bent his arms to use his hands as pillows when he started half rolling side to side to get you off his back. You squealed again and clung to him as best you could. You squeezed your thighs on him, and your hands clung to his arms that pillowed his head, noticing the hard planes of muscles you hadn’t really cared to notice before. You knew he was muscular, he was on the football team and trained and worked out regularly. But something inside you changed with this newfound knowledge of what his biceps felt like under your tight grip. No…it’s not that you never noticed his muscles before, you just never appreciated them like you were now. You stilled, about to get off him when he lifted himself off the bed, with you still on his back. You let out a startled cry and wrapped your arms around his torso and legs around his waist from behind in fear of meeting the floor with your face.

Bucky was laughing the entire time, now breathing heavy, he lifted up more and put one knee on the edge of the bed and the other foot on the floor and violently turned to the side to shrug you off him and onto the bed. Your body was thrown, and you bounced as your back landed on the mattress. You laid there, chest heaving from laughing and something else you were unsure of, your hair fallen from your messy bun splayed onto the bed and smiled up at him.

He looked down on you grinning wide and laughed. “You done now you jackass?”

You silently nodded yes, still laying on the bed trying to catch your breath and calm your nerves. He moved to the couch to start a movie when his phone notification went off. He grabbed it and sighed after seeing it was from Steve.

*Guess your girl ain’t as good as she thinks she is huh? I’ll hold up my end once I get what I earned. See you at the game tomorrow bitch. *

Bucky groaned and threw the phone down on the couch and sighed. You went over to read the text and sat down next to him on the small sofa that barely fit the two of you. Reading the text pissed you off. Steve could be so cocky sometimes. He thinks because he finally made varsity that he’s tough shit, when Bucky has been varsity since sophomore year. “God, he’s such a dick.”

Bucky took his phone from your hands. “Yeah, but a bet is a bet. I’ll pay him myself tomorrow at the game. Don’t worry about it.” He leaned back to get comfortable, pressing play on Top Gun. It was a favorite for both of you, something y'all have watched a million times but still enjoyed it.

You crossed your legs under you and tried to get comfortable. “You better. Also, make sure you leave an opening tomorrow for someone to tackle his ass.”

Bucky snickered. “I’ll do my best.”

Sitting next to Bucky in such close proximity like this never used to be a problem. In fact, more often than not you leaned on each other’s shoulders or put your legs or head in each other’s laps when you watched movies or played video games. This time was different though. You were slightly uncomfortable. Maybe it was the frolicking on the bed with Bucky’s hard muscles from earlier or the fact that, despite frontward appearances, you felt some type of way when Steve essentially called you Bucky’s girl in his text. It was weird for something that simple to set you on edge. But here you were, sitting next to Bucky like you have a million times before, feeling….weird. Watching the same movie you have a million times before but again….feeling weird. So weird in fact that once the infamous Take My Breath Away scene was about to happen you shot up to your feet like the couch cushion personally offended your backside. You moved so fast you made Bucky jump and clutch his chest.

“Jesus y/n, where’s the fire?” He exhaled.

You took a deep breath and didn’t even try to hide the fact you didn’t have an excuse. “I’m gonna go home, I’ll…text you later.” And you walked out of his room, down the stairs, out his front door, down the handful of steps on the porch, onto the sidewalk then turned right and walked a few feet, then up your porch steps, through your front door, up your stairs, into your room and planted yourself face first in your bed to muffle the “What the fuck?” that escaped your mouth.

That was fucking weird he thought to himself once y/n left. But he could finally relax and he was honestly more than a little thankful. For some reason every since he fucked up and cost her the bet, he’s been tense. He felt bad, yeah, but it all started when she went and laid down on his bed. He wasn’t sure why it bugged him, but it did. And then when she laid on his back. He enjoyed it a little, feeling the pressure of her body on top of his. That’s why he started moving, to try and get her off of him, only to realize how strong she was when she clung to him the way she did. Looking at y/n, nobody would think she had such a strong grip, let alone the power her thighs held. The places his mind went when she put her legs around him were involuntary, but not exactly unwelcome. He knew he had to get her off of him. This is y/n for crying out loud he chastised himself. He’s never imagined her that way, never let his mind wander about her. That was until he looked down at her on his bed. Breathing so heavy it made her breasts bounce ever so slightly. Her hair a mess all around her and smiling up at him. After teasing her he had to get some distance from her, not realizing the couch was not the best place for that when Steve texted him.

*…your girl…*

Seeing those words made him groan. Out loud. He played it off as frustration at the text and threw his phone for good measure. Silently cursing himself as the action only brought her to his side. He tried to distract his wayward thoughts with a movie they had watched so often they could say every line by heart. He noticed y/n didn’t seem comfortable. Her body rigid and she didn’t invade his personal space as much as she usually did. But then again, he didn’t either. Then he heard the opening chords to Take My Breath away, knowing what scene was about to take place and his heart rate picked up speed, he was nervous. Then y/n shot up like a bullet from a gun and jolted his mind back into reality. And then she left.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Bucky and y/n had been friends for all of their lives. Literally. They shared a bed on family vacations, took baths together as toddlers, grew to love the same TV shows and movies, played baseball and football together, went on hikes together. There wasn’t much they haven’t done together. All their lives they had each other. No matter what.

With a sigh, he looked at the time on his phone and decided it was late enough to consider going to bed. He stood up and walked to the bed, taking off his shirt and jeans and getting into bed. He rolled over and let out a pained groan into the pillow when he smelled the combination of her perfume and shampoo. Y/n is his best friend. His best friend that he was now thinking of as his briefs began tightening. Why? Why of all people is this his body’s response to? He had had sex before, a few times actually. He’s had a few girlfriends and was not shy about his capabilities in that regard. But he would be lying if he said the images his hormone-driven brain conjured of y/n didn’t make him blush.

Much to his dismay, his fist found its way into his briefs to relive some of his frustration. After his thoughts ran rampant he finally found his release. Covered in sweat, his breath ragged when his phone buzzed with a video chat incoming. Seeing her name and photo, he contemplated whether or not he should answer it, deciding to answer it despite his current state.

“Hey, did I leave my wallet over there? I can’t find it anywhere” she asked before the video even connected. When it did he saw her hair was wet, leaving wet marks on the Mandalorian t-shirt he had bought for her after they watched the show together. He also noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra, probably getting ready for bed.

Finally seeing his end of the video chat after looking for her wallet some more and not hearing a response from him, she saw that he was laying in bed, his hair sticking to his forehead, his chest glistening, and breathing a little heavy. “Hey…are you okay?” She stopped roaming around and sat on her bed.

“Yea….I’m okay. Just….uhh…yeah, I’m okay.” He sat up and did his best not to make a bigger mess. He made sure to hold the phone in a way that didn’t put the evidence of his previous activities on display for her. “Just…hold on….gimme a sec.” He grunted as he set the phone down to show y/n the ceiling as he got up and cleaned himself up a bit.

After donning a pair of pajama pants, making sure to hide the mess he grabbed his phone and searched for y/n’s Batman wallet.

“I’m not seeing it doll, did you take it out here at all or do you think it fell out somewhere?” He looked by the couch, his computer desk, the bookshelf, and the little table by the TV and didn’t see anything.

She was silent and just stared at him for a minute before sighing “I don’t remember. Between losing the bet and you assaulting me I can’t remember taking it out of my back pocket. I’ll just come by tomorrow before the game to look, I wanna sleep in a bit in the morning” she let out a breath as she laid down in her bed and rolled to the side. His mind wandering again, seeing her like this.

“Yeah….okay. I’ll…umm.. I’ll keep looking but I’ve gotta get to sleep soon. Big game tomorrow.” He chuckled under his breath, getting back into bed and laying the same way y/n did. They both just smiled at each other for a second, neither saying anything.

“Okay…well I’ll be there when I wake up. If you’re already gone for the game I’ll look myself and meet you at the field. I’ll be on the sidelines as always.” She responded, smiling softly.

Bucky smiled at her. “Okay…if you can’t find it I’ll buy you dinner tomorrow night after the game. And drive you to DMV and all that other bullshit.”

“Okay, but just so you know…I’m not getting a fucking salad.”

Raising his eyebrows “Oh I know, I’ve seen you eat y/n. You eat more than I do” He chuckled. “Where do you hide all that food anyway? I’m not convinced you actually eat it, you’re too small.”

“Too small my ass!” She snorted.

“Nah…your ass is just fine.” He smirked, not realizing what he just admitted.

Y/n was silent.

Bucky yawned and groaned while stretching “Alright doll, I need to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow. Night.”

“Goodnight Buck.” She whispered before ending the video chat.

Bucky sighed. Dammit. He was being weird. Doll? What is wrong with him? He plugged his phone into the charger and set it down, rolling over and forcing y/n out of his thoughts so he could attempt sleep.

When you got home earlier you decided to take a shower, somehow settling on a temperature cooler than that which you usually enjoyed. With the cool water running over your hair you thought back on the way Bucky felt underneath you. You had been in close proximity to his body before but this time, you really took notice. He was strong and hard beneath you, his arms flexing as he moved beneath you.

You angrily grabbed your shampoo and lathered your hair, not wanting to think about his body. Rinsing out the shampoo you found the combination of the cool water and the soapy remnants of your shampoo sliding down your chest sent a shockwave straight to your core. Feeling your arousal growing you made quick work of conditioning your hair and grabbing your body wash, you lathered and scrubbed your body, reluctantly imagining bigger and rougher hands roaming your body instead of your own. After rinsing off you felt your hand slide downwards and decided to let your imagination run wild. Just this once.

The water from your shower was now ice cold. With your breathing still labored you quickly washed your body again, trying your best to imagine you washing away the dirtiness of the things you just did, hoping it would ease your mind. It didn’t.

Getting out of the shower you quickly dried your hair in a towel, scolding yourself of thinking of Bucky that way. He was your friend, it was wrong to imagine him in anything but that context. You felt like you betrayed him, corrupted your friendship with your dirty thoughts.

After putting on a shirt and some underwear you went in search of your wallet, and the small picture of the two of you at the state fair last fall when you both piled into the smallest photo booth you’ve ever been in, still smiling and laughing after he won a stuffed animal from one of the games. You tried to beat him because you really wanted that Pikachu plushie, but he knocked the tin target down before you. He chose the Pikachu, teasing you about it all the way to the cotton candy vendor. After admitting defeat, you paid for two cotton candy sticks and then proceeded to slowly eat yours and handing him his, only to grab it out of his reach in the last second and eating it all in a matter of seconds. You both laughed so hard you were crying. He called you a pig and took your sticky hand and lead you to the photo booth, tears still in your eyes. It was one of your favorite memories of him and you each got a small set of three pictures from the photo booth. You saved them in your wallet so you could look at them as often as you wanted. Smiling every time you did.

In your room, you noticed your wallet was nowhere to be found. You checked everywhere. You were actually really upset about it. Maybe you forgot it at Bucky’s, or it had fallen out of your pocket after the incident on the bed. You grabbed your phone and initiated a video call while still looking in your room for your wallet. At the sound of the line connecting, you asked him if your wallet was over there, not bothering to look at the screen. When he didn’t say anything, you finally saw the state he was in. He wasn’t wearing a shirt so you could see his broad chest heaving up and down, his hair plastered to his forehead, you saw the sweat collecting at the hollow of his neck and your imagination took off. Remembering the reason behind your call, you asked Bucky if he was okay, he looked worn out and…weird. You couldn’t place the expression on his face and when he replied his voice was rough and gravelly, finding that it pleased you in a way you didn’t like to think about.

When he set the phone down all you could see was the ceiling, but you heard him grunt and rummage around. He picked up the phone and began searching. Then he called you doll. And your heart simultaneously stopped and beat out of your chest. You didn’t know what to say. How do you respond to that? You laid down on your bed, rolling to your side and Bucky did the same. You explained you’d just go over tomorrow to look yourself because he was so clueless sometimes, keeping the reasoning why to yourself. You had a spare key to his house so even if he left for the game by the time you got there it wouldn’t be an issue. The team had to get ready and be at the field way before the gates opened anyways. Bucky offered to buy you dinner and help you get everything squared away in the event you truly did lose your wallet. After your joke about a salad and some snarky remarks, he complimented your ass with that shit-eating smirk he used when flirting with the cheerleaders. You again were stunned into silence again, worsening your shock when he called you doll…again.

After you ended the call, you laid there, replaying everything since losing the bet over and over in your mind, trying to figure out what changed. Because there was something different now when you and Bucky spoke. Something that made you a little excited and nervous, mostly nervous. Long gone was the friendship you once had. You weren’t sure how, but you knew there was a change now.

Deciding not the think about it anymore, you settled in for the night. Telling yourself everything was fine. It was just a weird day. Things would go back to normal. No big deal. You forced your mind to quiet, to erase all the wanton thoughts in your mind of Bucky until finally, you fell into a fitful sleep.

Next Chapter

#fanfic #alternate universe #bucky barnes #friends to lovers #first fanfic #a/u bucky x reader #teenager bucky x teenager reader #slow burn #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #james buchanan barnes

[adhdeancas]

no pressure at all but i’m always a sucker for sammy’s pov/outsider pov on dean being trans if you felt like writing that sometime :)))

uh so i kinda wrote this from Sam’s POV when he was 11 and Dean comes out to him? Hope that’s okay? also-- tw for abuse mention/injuries. It’s kinda angsty but it has a good end. also tw for Sam misgendering Dean before he knows he’s trans obviously

Sam knew he had a bad childhood. But he knew Dean had a worse one, too. Not really, not in the front of his mind (Dad talked to him, Dad trusted him, Dad treated him like an adult), but if he really thought about it… 

Dean came out to him on a bad night.

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

7:00 pm. Summer 1994. 

Deanna came back into the motel room with a busted lip and a dislocated shoulder. 

“Dee!” Sam calls out immediately. He jumps up from the musty little couch, throwing his schoolbooks on the coffee table, and goes to his sister. She pushes him away and winces immediately. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Deanna lies through bloody teeth. “I was a smartass. I’m fine.”

Sam tries to grab her by her other arm but she pulls away before he can, and that’s when he sees her shoulder looks off. Like the bones are twisted wrong, shoved on wrong like she’s a Barbie that’s been thrown across the room. “Dad?”

Deanna looks away and doesn’t say anything, and Sam knows that means yes. A jolt of guilt goes through him. He knows it’s because Dee probably tried to get John to stick around for a couple days, probably because Sam was whining so much about missing him. Or maybe it was about the nearly empty state of their cupboards, or the multiple calls home from teachers for Dean’s shitty attitude that were getting harder and harder to dodge or explain John’s absence away. Either way, John hadn’t followed her back into the room, which meant he’d left again. The argument had cost Sam even a glancing look at their dad while he got his clothes done at the laundromat. 

Sam stares. “It’s not right.” he whispers.  

 Deanna pushes at him again, but she doesn’t seem to be trying too hard to get him away. “It’s fine, Sam. Just let me, I can-” She pulls at the arm with her good one and cries out. 

“Deanna, stop being fucking dumb,” Sam risks cussing because Dee usually takes him more seriously when he does. Sure enough, she looks down at him with a frown. He shrugs. “Let me help you. You’d help me. Besides, I’ve never had a dislocated shoulder before. I don’t know how to fix one.” He raises his eyebrows, confident this appeal would work. Dee always caved if he could word it in a way so she was helping him, teaching him something that could keep him safe later. It’s how he’d got her to teach him how to do stitches and pick locks and learn exorcisms. 

“... fine.”

“Yes!” Sam mutters under his breath. Deanna huffs out a laugh. She climbs onto the rickety old table they have in the room and lays down with her bad shoulder laying off it. “Alright, Sammy, now just grab onto my forearm and pull straight down. Hard and fast.” She grins to herself and looks away, muttering, “That’s what she said,” 

Sam’s got no clue what that’s supposed to mean, but he grabs ahold of her forearm anyway, thinking. “Dee, he shouldn’t hit you.”

“Sam, I told you, I was being a smart ass, I had it coming this time.”

Sam grips tight. “Still. He shouldn’t. You’re not supposed to hit girls.”

“I’m not-” Sam tugs down hard, and he hears a distinct and gross pop from above him as Deanna’s shoulder slides back into place. She groans and rolls back onto the table, cradling her arm. “Motherfucker, shit, I’m not a motherfucking girl.”

Sam hits his head on the tabletop standing up. “What?” he asks, rubbing the back of his head. What’s that supposed to mean?

“What?”

“You said you’re not a girl.”

“Oh, I-” Deanna sits up straight now and tumbles off the table in her hurry to get away from Sam. Sam watches with confusion. It’s like she’s more freaked out now than she was when she came in with a freshly beat up face. “I meant like- I’m not a- I’m not- I’m not a girl,” she stutters, emphasizing the last word. “Like weak. Uh, like when I call you a girl for complaining about your bookbag being heavy.”

Sam furrows his eyebrows. Deanna’s also taught him how to tell when somebody’s lying, which had the unexpected perk of knowing when she’s lying. And she’s lying. She’s also… “Are you crying?”

Deanna looks up, terrified, and raises a hand to wipe the moisture off her face. “No, I’m not fucking- Sammy, leave me alone!”

Sam crosses his arms. “What’s going on?”

“What the fuck do you mean, Sam?” she grumbles. She’s turned away to grab a towel and she wets it and wipes at her lip. Then she grabs some ice from the freezer and shakes it into the towel. People ask if a girl comes into school with a swollen, split lip, especially when it’s a loner like Deanna. 

“Why are you acting so weird?”

“I’m not. You’re acting weird.” her voice is muffled from the towel. 

Sam’s head hurts, and he really just wants to read his book. It’s a really good one, an adventure story. They’re in space. But that protagonist never gives up on a mystery, and he’s not about to either. “No, you’re acting weird about saying you aren’t a girl. Which wouldn’t be weird unless you weren’t lying about it and making it weird.” he’s thinking out loud. Deanna looks like she wants to kill him. “Dee, just tell me what’s going on.” he can hear the childish whine in his voice, but he can’t help it. He just wants to help. “Please, Dee. You can trust me.”

She sits on the table, and it rocks below her. She shakes her head. “I dunno, Sammy, I think I’m really messed up.”

Sam resists the urge to make a joke, and sits in a chair so he can look at her. “What do you mean, messed up?”

“I… Fuck, it’s super weird. You’re not allowed to tell anyone this, okay? Anyone, period. No dad, no Bobby, no weird little friends.”

Sam glares at her. “I promise.”

Deanna sighs and leans forward. “I… I wanna be a guy. Like… so bad. All the time. So bad it hurts.” she says quietly. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I don’t- I don’t like… looking like this.”

Sam stares. His thoughts are going a mile a minute, trying to figure out what that means. “You wanna be a guy?”

“... yeah.”

“But… you’re a girl.”

“Yeah, I fucking know that, Sam. Hence the ‘wanting to be a guy’ part. Fuck.” She tosses the icy towel into the sink. It makes a hollow clink, which seems to disappoint her. She sags against her own hands, holding her face up with her elbows propped on her knees. “I’ve read about it, y’know. Trying to figure out what- what’s wrong with me.”

“You’ve read about it?” Sam asks incredulously. Dee never reads anything for school, only random books with nothing to do with her classes. She says the academic wording gives her headaches. She frowns at him now. Her eyes are wet again. “What did you find out?”

“People… people are like that. Some people are. Mostly… mostly guys who wanna be girls but some… some like me too.”

“So what do they do?”

Dee blinks and looks at him surprised. Like she’d expected something different from him. “Most of ‘em got surgeries to, uh, look like how they wanted.” She hunches her shoulders over on herself. “They changed their names.”

“Well, you change your name all the time.” Sam says easily. 

“That’s different. That’s for cases.”

“Yeah, well, do it when it’s not for cases. I dunno, call yourself Dean instead. That’s a boy name, right? People wouldn’t even think it’s weird, it’s just a nickname like Dee.” Sam shrugs. 

“Sammy, anybody ever told you you’re a genius?” Dean’s voice cracks, and she sniffs and takes a deep breath before she can look at him. 

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you. When you’re not calling me a dumbass.” Dean gets up and wraps him in a hug, only making a muffled sound when she moves the hurt shoulder. 

“Dean?” Sam tries the name out on his tongue. It sounds good, natural. Dean huffs in reply. “Does this mean you’re a ‘he’ now?”

Dean laughs. “I, uh. I guess? If that’s not too weird?”

Sam rolls his eyes again. “Dean, we hunt monsters for a living.”

#anon #ask #prompt #tw: abuse #tw: misgendering #trans dean #dean winchester #sam winchester #my writing

[rustys-lodge]

can u maybe pls do one where their sister gets like heartbroken after finally letting herself fall in love with someone and she’s just like really sad and the boys just comfort her 🥺

bc this situation is me right now and i just need some fluff 🥺 thank u 🥺🥺🥺

Warnings: None ? except for a broken heart. 

You stood at the bunker door, wind and dust slapping the side of your face. i guess the weather’s as fucked up as i am today.. you thought to yourself, dropping your gaze down. 

You just weren’t ready to face your brothers and pretend like nothing's happening, like everything’ fine. Today just wasn’t the day. But you had no other choice. 

You drew a deep breath in, putting that big stupid smile on your face before you headed inside. 

Dean and Sam were sitting at the main table, both of them had beers in their hands, something that you needed desperately at that moment. 

“Hey, kiddo” Dean greeted as he watched you walk past him. 

“Hey” you barely mumbled, you didn’t need to look back to feel the concerned look they both exchanged before you heard Sam stand up. 

“Sammy, it’s nothing. I..I just got a bad grade” you turned around, flashing him a weak smile. 

“Are yo-”

“I’m okay, I promise. I’m going to get some sleep.” You assured him, heading to your room. 

Once inside, you closed the door gently, sliding down against it until you reached the floor. You brought your legs up, hugging them as you rested your face on them. 

You were crushed, your heart was aching and your stomach was eating at your nerves. You had this stupid lump in your throat for hours, and it just wouldnt go the hell away.

How could I trust him ? How could I let my guards down ? How could I get myself in a situation like this ? These questions kept echoing in your mind, making it harder for you to breathe with each passing minute.

“Pumpkin ?” 

you jumped up, snapping out of your thoughts. Shit..

You shook your head, as if to get your shit back together and discreetly jumped over to your bed. 

you sat straight, bending your leg to make yourself look normal. “Come in” you answered. 

Sam opened the door slightly, peaking through the door. 

You cracked a smile that faded quickly as pain and sadness rushed back over you. 

A frown creased your brother’s eyebrows, he was growing concerned. 

You looked down at the covers, picking at them, not that there was anything to pick at ! but it was better than looking at Sam. You just can’t lie to him. 

“I brought you cookies !” Sam solaced, placing the place gently in front of you. 

“But you think cookies are unhealthy” You looked up at him, trying to change a subject that you haven’t even talked about yet. 

“Well...You love them” He responded,shrugging as he sat down in front of you, mirroring your pose. 

“Y/n/n, what’s...what’s wrong ?”

“We know it’s not the notes” You cock your head to the side to look past Sam to find Dean standing against the door. 

Your muscles tense as you fidget with your fingers nervously, not sure whether you should tell them or not, not sure either if you could hold yourself from crying. 

“Hey” Sam lays a hand on your shoulder. “You can talk to us, baby. We just want to help” He nodded, encouraging you to talk. 

You fall silent as you fight back the tears. But you just couldn't hold it in anymore. 

“It’s...It’s a boy” you mutter, sniffing the tears back in. 

Dean’s shoulders loosened up, as if all the concern he had in him just washed away. While Sam’s hand moved up to your cheek? caressing the latter gently. 

“Oh buddy…” Dean cooed, walking over to the other end of your bed, dipping it a little as he sat down. “What happened ?” 

You stared down at your foot as you twiddled with your fingers, rage simmering inside you. “I let myself fall in love with him… I let him in... I trusted him and he…he fucked me over” You murmured between gritted teeth. 

Your chin trembled as your eyes welled up with tears. 

“Come here” Sam pulled you close, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you buried your face in his shirt, suddenly bursting into sobs.Your brother stood up, pulling your waist to help you sit on your knees. You wrapped your arms around his waist, tightening your grip as the pain suddenly intensified, you felt like you just realized what position you were in, like you just processed what happened to you. 

“Come on,bug...let it out” Dean rubbed your back as it was facing him, patting it occasionally. 

“Listen to me” Sam pulled you away from him, holding your face in his hands. “I know it hurts,pumpkin, I know it feels like you’re never going to get over him and like the pain is never going to end. But it’s going to. I promise you that. You just have to give it time. He did not deserve you. And you deserve better. Don't let some stupid...assclown break you... Heartbreak is part of life. It’s part of being human. And you’ll get through it.” 

“ And we’ll be here all the way,baby “Dean pledged. 

You spun around to face him. “You promised ?”

“I promise” He nodded, scooting backward until he reached the back of the bed. “Come on” He commanded, spreading his arms out, motioning for you to come over. 

You almost jumped on his chest. He breathed out heavily, causing you to suppress a laugh. 

“Sorry” you apologized, resting your head on his chest. 

Dean enveloped his arms around out, pulling you closer to him. “Hey” 

You looked up at him. 

“You’ll be fine...just give it time, alright ?” He comforted, running his fingers through your hair, his calm features hiding the anger his fiery eyes couldn’t.

“So, what should we watch ?” Sam asked, plopping down on the bed,leaving you between him and Dean

you shifted a little back towards the middle and wrapped your arms around Dean’s arm. 

Sam and Dean’s voices receded as you drowned back into your thoughts. 

You were still aching and hurting but at least you weren't alone.

-----

Hi, i hope you like it and i hope it helps you in any way. ❤❤❤❤ And seriously, just give it time. This one might’ve fucked you up but not everyone’s like that. A few months from now you’re gonna be like whaat did i actally fall in love with this motherfucker ? 

Anyway, i hope you’ll be okay. ❤❤❤🌹🌹🌹

#dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #sister winchester!reader #Winchester brothers #winchester sister #winchester sister request #supernatural x reader

[immortalcoelacanth]

Between the Walls, Chapter 2: Salutations and Explanations (Dream SMP fic)

... Although, I should probably tag this as more of a Sleepy Bois Inc thing given the content... Anyways, onto chapter 2!

Word count: 5356

Summary: At it was at this moment that Tommy knew, he fucked up. 

“Let me tell you one thing, you pig bitch-”

There was a tiny child in his walls.

“And I bet your mum ain’t all that-”

A tiny child who was yelling at him, insulting him.

“So, you better listen up! Motherfucker-”

Techno was almost impressed.

He wondered if the kid was aware of how absolutely not intimidating he sounded at the moment. His voice cracked and broke occasionally as he cursed, he was visibly trembling in what Techno assumed to be fear, and he looked like he was moments away from crying with those wide eyes and that terrified look on his face.

The kid reminded him of a cornered animal, terrified and lashing out to try and protect itself. He was doing the same thing, trying to scare the hybrid off with harsh words and false bravado.

Techno quietly thought about how young he must be. It was a good thing Phil was nowhere nearby since nothing would have saved both him and the kid from the ensuing lecture and interrogation period. Questions about where the kid was from, who he was, what he was doing here…

Questions he should probably be asking before the kid broke down crying. He had a feeling it would happen eventually when all that adrenaline wore off and the reality of the situation fully sunk in, so the currently shrinking window of opportunity was the best chance he had for finding out what he needed to know.

“And do you know what the fuck a breath mint is?”

… But first he had to shut this kid up.

“You got anything to say? Huh? Or are you just gonna-HEY!”

The tirade was cut off when, without warning, Techno reached out and pinched the back of his shirt, using that to lift him up in the air and out of the shelter that had been provided by the wall.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” The kid squawked as he struggled and squirmed in an attempt to escape Techno’s grip. The hybrid rolled his eyes as he continued looking the tiny being over, occasionally turning him so he could inspect the rest of him. The only thing of note he found was the belt the kid wore that had various tools hooked onto it.

Nothing that really posed a threat to him, but it was still good to take note of it.

“Trying to find the off button.”

“The-OFF BUTTON?! EXCUSE YOU, YOU BITCH-”

“Damn, doesn’t seem to be one.” He noted in that same, monotone voice. Of course, this ended up enraging the kid further, his shouts and curses growing louder.

His wild, frantic eyes growing wider.

Well, now was as good as time as any to start asking some questions before he ended up pushing the kid too far. He swore he could hear that tiny heart pounding away in the kid’s chest, and the hybrid realized it was entirely possible for the tiny being to pass out on him, or worse, have a heart attack from the stress.

Double time on that interrogation, then.

Techno changed his grip, wrapping his fingers around the kid and getting bit in the process-

This child was absolutely feral. He’d probably need a rabies shot by the end of the day.

Eventually, and with some careful maneuvering to make sure didn’t drop the struggling figure, Techno was able to place him down on the top of the small shelf located near the entrance of his house. It was right in front of a window, too, and he saw the way the kid’s eyes flickered between him and the possible escape route.

Nope.

Not a chance.

The hand placed between the kid and his freedom earned him a scowl and being flipped off once again, though he was quickly getting used to this brash and foolish behavior. In a way, it reminded Techno how he had acted when he was much younger. How cocky and overconfident he had been before the world brutally showed him where his place was.

Now, his confidence was backed by years worth of training. By the lives he had ended and the blood he had spilt.

It made him smile at the memories, oddly enough. Naturally, the kid immediately took his smiling to be about something far more sinister, and he started shouting once more.

“What the fuck do you got planned, huh? Got some creepy shit planned? You… you gonna need a bone saw or some crap like that for me-”

“Oh please, all I’d need is a decent nutcracker.” Techno scoffed, completely oblivious to the look of horror that passed over the kid’s face before it was quickly replaced by that false bravado.

“Can’t believe you’d threaten me like that-”

“Not what I was talking about!” The hybrid quickly interrupted, visibly shuddering and in turn making the kid let out a loud laugh.

Just how in the hell was something that small so loud anyways? Weren’t there rules about that sort of thing, mass being proportionate to how loud something could be. There was a reason why he had hated hanging out with kids when he was younger.

… Except for Wilbur, he had always been the exception.

Not wanting to take an agonizing trip down memory lane back to when his family had been whole and alive, Techno decided it was time to start asking the questions he wanted answers to, beginning with the most important one of course.

“And why are you in my house, anyways?”

“Your house?” The kid scoffed and crossed his arms. “It’s mine! I called dibs!”

“Heh?” Techno found himself at a genuine loss here as he tried to comprehend the logic behind that statement. “You can’t claim-I built this place.”

“Doesn’t mean you called dibs, bruv, and you did a shit job of buildin’ it, too. It could use more decorations that aren’t you! And music!”

The hybrid let out a frustrated groan while dragging a hand over his face. Why had one of the most annoying, obnoxious, and loud people he had ever met decide that his base was the perfect place to invade. Why had this kid picked him instead of somewhere else, like L’Manberg.

… Actually, that was another good question to ask-

“So, when are you gonna clean up this pigsty?” The kid asked, completely derailing Techno’s train of thought.

“I fear for your brain cells if all you can come up with are pig jokes and saying fuck over and over again.”

“... Fuck you-”

“And my concerns are proven to be valid.”

“My brain works perfectly fine! It’s just yours isn’t big enough to get it!” He snapped back.

“Suuuuure, pipsqueak, whatever you say.” Techno sarcastically drawled. It seemed as though either the aloof expression on his face or the nickname he had granted the boy only enraged him further, as he watched the kid start stomping the ground as he continued shouting.

He was witnessing a literal tantrum.

“I’m not a pipsqueak! You’re the one who's freakishly tall!”

“Like I couldn’t tell with you calling me big man every five seconds, and I’ll just keep calling you that since you seem to like it so much.”

“Then just call me Tommy! It’s not that hard!” The now named Tommy exclaimed, and it was only when a smile appeared on Techno’s face that he realized he might have messed up.

“Uh… I mean-”

“So, that’s your name.” Techno interrupted, grin growing as he leaned forward and rested his chin on a closed fist. He was enjoying messing with this kid. It was almost as fun as terrorizing Quackity. “Got any other important info you wanna share? Credit card number?”

“No! No, no way!” Tommy let out a nervous giggle and took a step back. “C’mon, man, let’s see some manners! I told you my name, so you should tell me yours-”

“Technoblade.”

“... What?”

“Or Techno for short.” The hybrid continued, not caring about the stunned and confused look on the kid’s face. He was used to people looking at him weird, especially when they heard his name. “No pig-pun name here.”

“... You were so close to having a cool name.” Tommy bluntly said. “You’ve got half a cool name. Now Blade, that’s intimidating! Big man Blade-”

“Never call me that.”

“Alright TechnoBitch-”

“Your insults are getting worse by the second, I fear you’re undergoing cellular brain death.”

“Are you making up fancy words to sound all smart now? Cellular?” Tommy scowled. “What’s next? You gonna start talking about other made up stuff, like leprechauns, or dolphins?”

“... Dolphins are real-”

“That’s just what the dolphin believers want you to think! The… the dolphevers!”

Techno threw his head and started laughing, the noise surprisingly loud. It made Tommy jump as he winced at the volume. Discomfort ran through him, and he started to slowly realize how dangerous the situation he was in might be.

He had always been warned to stay away from humans, and while this guy didn’t look all that human, he was sure the same warning applied. He could be trapped, hurt, tormented…

Why, why had he decided to stick around instead of just running off, or trying to barter for his freedom? He had always lived his life on the edge, flirting with danger instead of women. The thrills and excitement of interacting with a human could have driven him to do this.

Or perhaps it was that quiet voice within him that begged him to interact with Techno, to reach out and be social and finally interact with someone after all the days he spent alone.

A voice that kept insisting that things would be alright, that he would be okay.

A voice that could result in his demise if he listened to it.

He would never see Tubbo again...

His mind made up, Tommy slowly backed away from the hybrid, one hand raised while the other behind his back towards the belt that Techno had noticed earlier. “Well, this has been fun and all but I’ve got to head out and you’ve got some cleaning to do, roomie.”  

Techno’s eyes narrowed as his bout of laughter finished, aware that he had something planned that would probably cause some problems, but before he could act on his suspicions, Tommy made his move.

And chucked a fist full of sand in the pigman’s face.

Immediately, Techno let out a shout and recoiled, lifting his hands up to his eyes in an attempt to scrub the gritty substance out of them. Tommy took his chance and pulled out his grappling hook, attached it to the side of the shelf, and quickly slid down the rope. In his haste, as well as the movements caused by the hybrid’s thrashing, the grappling hook came loose, and he dropped the rest of the way to the floor.

Tommy landed, cringing as agony raced up his legs, and did his best to ignore it as he shot off towards the space under the shelf, knowing he would be hidden from sight and have a better chance at escaping.

He had to escape since he doubted his captor would be that nice to him again.

Meanwhile, Techno was currently battling every urge he felt to lash out and kill the kid. His mind and soul screamed for blood, for death and revenge for the humiliation and pain he had been put through. It took all of his willpower to stop himself from grabbing his trident and slamming it into the floor in an attempt to find, and kill, Tommy.

The main source of his restraint came from a voice that sounded a bit too much like Phil’s calmly whispering that there were other ways to do things, that he did not have to resort to violence.

This was then converted to make him pay, but not with death. Death is a release, not a punishment.  

His eyes burned.

He let out a pained hiss and blindly reached towards the nearby brewing station, managing to get the bottle of water he had placed in it for potion brewing. He uncorked the top, looked up to the ceiling, cracked his eyes open, and quickly flushed them out to get rid of the sand.

All in all, only a couple seconds had passed since the sand had been thrown and Tommy had escaped. He could not have gotten far, but the more time the hybrid wasted sitting here, the further the kid would get.

Techno tossed the bottle to the side and quickly crouched down, still aching eyes scanning the wall as he tried to figure out where Tommy had gone. He spotted a flash of blond ducking behind part of the wooden shelf, and he quickly moved the wooden panel that covered the bottom part of the shelf. It was like a box of sorts and that could be used as storage space, but he had never put anything there and just left it closed.

So, naturally he had not at all been expecting to lift the panel up and find a tiny hole in the wooden floor, the perfect size for Tommy to fit through. His mind ground to a halt as he processed what he was seeing.

THERE WAS A HOLE UNDER THE SHELF?!

WHEN HAD THIS HAPPENED?!

Okay, okay, now was not the time to get caught up on. The kid was under the floorboards, possibly heading towards the basement. He rushed over to the ladder, slid down it, and jumped onto the stone flooring. He looked up at the ceiling, not seeing any obvious sign as to where the kid must have gone and decided that using another one of his senses might pay off.

Techno shut his eyes, ears twitching, and listened carefully. Listened for that one, signature noise that would tell him where Tommy was.

The sound of someone running over wood.

There!

On instinct, he swung the axe towards the sound, the blade chopping into the ceiling and exposing the hidden passage that had been carved into, and the boy who had been sprinting through it.

Now, this was where things took a bit of an interesting turn.

You see, despite the fact that Tommy had spent his life in a borrower settlement, he was quite experienced in building structures and had frequently challenged Tubbo to speed bridging contests. The adults always hated whenever he did that, claiming that the flimsy structures would alert humans to their hidden home, but Tommy had always ignored them and kept building.

… Until they resorted to hitting him. Then he stopped, but the skills he had developed over the years stayed with him, so the second he started falling he also started building. He had managed to place a couple blocks down as he fell and grabbed onto the little outcropping he had made. He was vaguely aware of Techno moving below him but was far more focused on trying to pull himself back up into the remains of his tunnel.

Can’t fall, gotta stay up! Have to run!

Unfortunately, his hand slipped off the planks, splinters sinking into his skin as he started to fall. Falling, and-

Landing on the top of Techno’s head. Surrounded by the crown the hybrid always wore and with no escape in sight, he decided to cling to the strangely soft, pink hair below him. It smelled… weirdly nice. There was a hint of a herbal scent he could not place, but it didn’t smell super flowery or anything like that.

“You’re pretty fruity, aren’t you big man?” Tommy impulsively asked, and he felt Techno freeze below him as the hybrid realized what the sudden, impossibly light weight belonged to. Seeing an opportunity to get another jab in, he immediately went for it with little regard to how precarious the situation was. “Lookin’ all… all flamboyant with your fancy dye!”

“I doubt you know what that word means, and it’s not dye.” Techno dryly retorted, tilting his head upwards so he could try and glare at the kid.

Seeing that nothing bad had happened, the hybrid had not tried to crush him, nor had he been grabbed and flung towards the nearest wall, Tommy decided to take a risk and started speaking once more.

“.... Hehe, guess things are fine then, big man-” He nervously laughed before he was cut off by Techno picking him up once again. The kid immediately started thrashing, squirming, and cursing as he tried to break free.

The hybrid rolled his eyes at the unnecessary dramatics and made his way over to the collections of chests on the other side of the room. A quick search resulted in him easily finding the item he was looking for.

A bottle.

He caught a glimpse of Tommy glancing between him and the bottle, his face shifting between pure rage and fear, but before he could object to what Techno was planning on doing, the cork in the bottle was removed and Tommy found himself being trapped inside.

“LEMME OUT YOU PRICK!” He shouted as he slammed his fists into the glass wall, wincing as his hands started aching.

Techno just chuckled and put the cork back in, preventing the kid from escaping and making it much harder to hear his shouting. A blessing in disguise, really. “Think of this as karma for the sand from earlier.”

Seeing no way to get out, Tommy flipped the hybrid off and slowly slid down the side of the bottle until he was resting on the ground. His arms crossed, knees were tucked to his chest, and he looked down so his face was hidden from sight. At least his silent moping made it easier for Techno to think.

What to do next…

He had the kid who had been borrowing through his house like some oversized termite, and he knew the kid’s name. There was still so much information he was missing that he wanted to know. What the kid was, if there were any more of him nearby-

An infestation was the last thing he needed.

… Perhaps the librarian back in the village would know something about this tiny kid. He knew that the somewhat eccentric villager had a large collection of books about all sorts of topics, so there was a chance he might have some kind of information he could dig up.

It was worth a shot.

He mentally debated on whether it would be worth it to bring Tommy with him, and ultimately decided he would in case he needed to show him off to the librarian, or one of the other villagers who might know about him. Without bothering to warn the kid, he quickly scooped the bottle up and fastened it to his belt.

He faintly heard the sounds of someone shouting and cursing, and decided to ignore it as he left the house. Techno hummed to himself as he made his way over to the nearby village, not bothering to waste any ender pearls since he still lacked a consistent source of them. No villagers were able to trade them, so his only option was relentlessly hunting down Endermen until a pearl was dropped.

Annoying, but necessary for now.

Speaking of annoying, he spared a glance down at the bottle on his hip that contained the furious Tommy, taking note of how the kid was smacking the glass walls and trying to find a way out. The red hue that had taken over his face also made it clear that he was still screaming.

He let out an exasperated sigh and picked the bottle up off his belt, lifting it up so it would be easier to talk to the kid. Now that he was up close, the hybrid could easily see the look of frustration on the kid’s face, as well as how red his eyes were.

It looked like Tommy had been crying.

“Calm down. I’m not gonna kill you.” Techno grumbled. “And stop screaming before you lose your voice.”

“You’re a bitch!” Tommy spat, not at all paying attention to what he was saying. “Fuckin’ dragging me out to who knows where, planning on doing who knows what-”

“I’m not going to sell you.” The hybrid interrupted, lifting a brow as he watched pure shock cross Tommy’s face. “... You really thought I was gonna sell you-”

“Well yeah!” Tommy sputtered as he flailed his arms. “The fuck else would you be doing?!”

“Interrogating people.”

“The fuck-”

Those were the only words Tommy was able to get out as the bottle was clipped back onto Techno’s belt. He shifted his arms a bit so his cape hid more of his body, and in turn the bottle, from sight. When that was finished, he strode into the village.

Children ran to and fro, some pausing to wave at him or whisper among themselves. He ignored them, as he always did, and continued on towards his destination. He also steered clear of any of the villagers he normally traded with, not wanting to get caught up in some unwanted conversation. He kept walking, picking up the pace whenever he heard someone get a bit too close to him until he reached the library.

It was far from your traditional library, much more of a home with a massive collection of books available for people to read. Techno didn’t bother to knock on the door, opting to instead open it and walk inside. A somewhat large, sparsely decorated room with simple shelves greeted him.

A moment later, the sound of rustling in one of the small side rooms filled the air and the familiar face of the local librarian popped out of it. He resembled your typical villager, though the spark of curiosity made his eyes glint and shine. He was obviously curious as to why Techno had shown up, but before he could ask the hybrid spoke.

“So, what do you know about tiny people?”

“I’m afraid you’ll need to be a bit more specific than that.” The librarian cheerfully replied, not at all phased by the seemingly random question. “Are there any particular features you can describe? Do you have an example?”

Immediately, Techno’s hand moved to his side, ready to grab the bottle and use Tommy as his example. However, just as he was about to snag the bottle-

He froze.

Dread coiled in his heart, an uncomfortable sensation that he had not felt for many years. He grit his teeth as he struggled to sort out exactly what he was feeling, what his instincts were trying to tell him.

Tommy’s wide eyes, tears still lingering in the corners-

Was… was this guilt?

There was no way he was feeling guilt! It couldn’t be. He had felt no guilt when threatening the kid earlier, didn’t really care all that much about him. So, why did the thought of showing him to someone feel…

Wrong.

He was unable to come up with an answer, feeling frustrated with himself. It was a stupid emotion, a weakness, but at the same time his instincts, those same feelings, had gotten him out of dangerous situations in the past. He’d be an idiot if he didn’t keep listening.

So, he dropped his hand and opted to explain instead. “Short, couple inches tall. Uses tools like grappling hooks to get around. Lives-”

“In houses?” The librarian finished, that sparkle in his eyes growing brighter. Looking a bit thrown off, Techno nodded.

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“You have perfectly described a borrower!”

“... A borrower?”

“Yes! Humanoid beings who are only a few inches tall! Generally, they tend to live in already inhabited homes, or with other borrowers in hidden settlements! They’re signs of good fortune.” The librarian explained as he scanned the shelves, looking for a specific book. “It is said that there is a powerful connection between borrowers and humans, their companionship offers a kind of peace and feeling of completion that we cannot hope to feel on our own-”

“I’m assuming that doesn’t apply to hybrids as well.” Techno interrupted, brow raised in a combination of curiosity and disbelief.

Borrowers… so that’s what Tommy was. And the kid had chosen to live with him? Why? And what had he been doing in a frozen wasteland before that? Was there one of those settlements nearby, or was there some other factor that had driven the borrower into staying with him.

So many questions, and so few answers.

To his surprise, the librarian quickly shook his head. “Your assumption is incorrect, Blood God. On the contrary, borrowers and hybrids have been known to share settlements in the past, working together and helping one another out-aha!”

A book was pulled out of the shelves, cover worn and title nearly illegible. After the book was given a quick once over, it was presented to Techno. He immediately took it, held it up in the dim lighting, and read the title aloud.

“A Historical Investigation into Borrower Society…?”

“Indeed! That should be a good starting point for your research on borrowers, and I can search for other texts if you wish to read them.”

“... That would be helpful, thanks.” Techno nodded while adding the book to his bag. He then pulled a couple emeralds out of it and looked at the librarian. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing at all! It warms my heart to see someone else taking an interest in borrowers,” The librarian exclaimed while clapping his hands. “And for my library to be blessed with the presence of one.”

Ah, Tommy.

He must have either spotted the bottle the borrower was in, or one of the other villagers must have and then passed the information along to him. Either way, the hybrid felt…

Annoyed.

His eyes narrowed and he unconsciously shifted so the side of his body the Tommy was on was further away from the librarian. He also flared his cape out, so the borrower was completely hidden from sight.

He was unaware of how Tommy had pressed himself against the side of the bottle upon realizing he had been seen. Unaware of how the borrower had tried to take shelter in his presence despite the rough start to their meeting.

Unaware of the wide, confused eyes that stared up at him, trying to comprehend that his captor was protecting him.

The librarian, seeing the change in Techno’s mood, quickly backed up and lifted up his hands. “Fret not, Blood God, I would do no harm to your charge.”

… Charge?

Before he could question what the librarian meant, the robbed man quickly ducked into some side room and started rummaging around in it.

“The next time you visit, I shall have something to give you! I promise!”

Had… had he just been given the signal to leave? Techno stood around awkwardly for a couple more moments as he waited to see whether the librarian would make another appearance. When he did not, the hybrid decided it was time to go.

Social interactions had always been a critical weakness of his. For how intimidating and threatening he could be, that mask would dissolve in an instant if he started floundering while talking to someone.

Wilbur had always teased him about it…

The walk back to his house was, thankfully, silent and allowed him the perfect opportunity to think about what he had learned in the village. Tommy was a borrower, a tiny being that lived in houses and stole for a living. He had no real magic or other noteworthy skills, aside from the advantages brought to him by size. He could be sneaky.

However, he still had to think about what to do with the borrower. Let him stay, or kick him out.

Soon enough, the hybrid found himself making his way up the stairs to the front of his house, letting out a relieved sigh once the door shut behind him. His shoulders loosened, the tension he had been carrying since he first entered the village fading in an instant.

He hated talking to people, so much.

Techno glanced at the nearby table and then looked down at the bottle on his hip. He promptly lifted it up, met Tommy’s eyes, and spoke.

“If I let you out and you don’t behave, I’m gonna fill the bottle with water and stick you back in it. Got it?”

Tommy shuddered and quickly nodded.

Stupid, he was so stupid for getting himself into this situation, and now he had no idea what Techno was going to do with him! Of course, he could always try to escape again, but he doubted he would get far, and if he got caught…

Nope. He was just going to sit, wait, and try to be as quiet as possible.

Upon seeing that Tommy was listening and actually keeping his mouth shut, Techno uncorked the bottle and tilted it towards the table so the borrower could easily slide out. Once he was settled on the table, the hybrid walked over to the other side of the room and started thinking.

Thinking about what his options were and what he should do.

Was it worth it to keep Tommy around? To have to deal with an annoying presence constantly in the place he had created as his retirement home. Would the aggravation be worth it? What would he get out of it, anyways?

They’re signs of good fortune.

Borrowers and hybrids have been known to share settlements in the past, working together and helping one another.

…That librarian had a point.

It would be useful to him to keep Tommy around, or kill him, even if the kid didn’t give him any good luck. He definitely couldn’t let the borrower leave, lest someone from L’Manberg snag him and get him to spill everything he knew about Techno, and if he kept the borrower around there was always the potential to use him in the future.

To have a tiny spy on his side could be quite the valuable tactical advantage, especially for when L’Manberg came after him.

He doubted Quackity would stay down for long.

So, with a plan properly in mind, he directed his attention back towards the borrower who was, thankfully, still sitting on the table. It looked like the kid had been zoning out until he heard the sounds of Techno’s approaching footsteps. He got back to his feet and glared at the man staring down at him.

Was… was he trying to be intimidating?

Techno let out an amused snort, ignoring the resulting remark about him really being a pig, and started explaining his deal.

“Alright, tiny-”

“TOMMY!”

“ Tiny.” Techno insisted, and to his surprise Tommy actually shut up.

It was probably due to the fact that he wasn’t really in any kind of position to argue or make demands. His life was on the line and he knew. All he could was hope the human would show him some mercy and not chuck him out into the freezing cold.

Whatever it was, it worked in Techno’s favour.

“So, here’s the plan. I’ll let you stay here, give you food and shelter, but you have to give me something in exchange.”

The deal was simple, with the benefits to Tommy being obvious. Something that he hoped would distract the kid and prevent him from questioning what Techno got out of their agreement.

Or what he would get, that is.

“What the fuck do you mean, big man?! Give you something in exchange?! I don’t have anything to exchange!”

“Well, since you said you don’t have anything to exchange,” The hybrid began, taking another step forward so he was closer to the table, already witnessing the real purpose behind his plan coming to fruition.

Tommy paled and took a step back as Techno loomed above him, shadow engulfing his tiny frame as that scheming smile crossed his face. Okay, it was clearly an awful decision to agree to his idea. Abort, abort-

“You’ll just have to work for it, then.”

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Techno's character arc for this fic is literally him going from exploiting one orphan to two XD

#my story #fanfiction #dream smp #dream smp fic #borrower au #dsmp tommy #dsmp techno #borrower!tommy #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois inc fic