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#like literally thank FUCK i realized this when i was just in a community college and not balls deep in debt at some fancy university
luvrxbunny · 8 months
Note
hii sorry to bother you im just gonna request something for ethan landry idk if youve written for him before i havent seen. but im legit obsessed and can you do something about like him being in econ and then getting all flustered from reader sitting next to him and just talking and then after that idk you can make something up hahaha but they go to like readers dorm and SmUt and hes all whiny and subby and maybe mommy kink goirhetlghrtglrhtg :))) dhbckudhfxkd
can you tell im going a bit insane for this guy
if you cant do it its okay also i love your work so much it gets me shuddering like legit
Thank you so so much for requesting! Unfortunately, I have no clue who this character is, (i literally thought he was evan peter's character in ahs before this) so I’m sorry if anything isn’t character-consistent!
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Pairing: Ethan Landry x F!Reader
Summary: You find out that Ethan has a little crush on you.  
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, some dry humping, handjob, overstimulation, f!mastrubation, mommy kink (lmk if I forgot anything)
WC: 4.3k
A/N: idk how this got so fucking long idek this guy. also y'all see the compliments in the request?? flattery will get you very far w me
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You walk in just as the bell rings, breathing a sigh of relief as you sit down and the professor begins his mind-numbing lecture. You place your bag on the ground and get out all the supplies you’ll need for this god-awful class. 
You’ve finished setting everything up when you realize that you’ve sat down next to someone. You try and see who it is through the peripherals of your vision, hoping you didn’t just sit next to some random person when you realize it’s him.
You’ve been going to school with Ethan for a few years now. He’s always been pretty quiet so he doesn’t have many friends. You guys are friendly, a level a bit higher than acquaintances because you’ve known each other for so long but you don’t really talk that often. You developed a crush on him back in high school. It never grew into anything more because you could never seem to hold a conversation with him... But it never fully left either because he’s still adorable.
You were shocked when you saw him in class on the first day, unable to believe that you were lucky enough to end up with him in the same class, at the same college. You try to talk to him more when you both are paired up in class but he’s not the best conversationalist. 
“Oh! Hey, Ethan! I didn’t even realize you were sitting here!” You try and be extra friendly, knowing how hard it is for him to communicate with others but you’re still met with silence. “Uh- I was almost late again! Did you see me? I got here like- just in time. Maybe I should start walking with you, you’re always on time!” You open your notebook and start taking down the notes on the board as you speak. 
Ethan is still silent. It’s getting a bit rude at this point. You thought the two of you were friendly but maybe he just doesn’t like you at all. You turn to look at him, hoping you’d get an explanation but all you’re met with is his alarmingly red face, fixated on the board. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. He has sweat lining his hairline and his back is unnaturally straight. “Hey… Are you okay? Are you sick?” Your voice is laced with concern as you speak, hoping this is the one thing he responds to. 
Ethan is trying so hard to act normal, be normal around you but he can’t. It would’ve been fine if you just hadn’t spoken to him. He could’ve easily pretended you weren’t there if he also ignored the smell of your perfume that was all but suffocating him with its ungodly sweet scent.
He’s been hard since you walked in, he always is. He can’t even help it at this point, he doesn’t try. In every class you’re in, his blood is in his dick. He used to try and prevent it, feeling like a pervert for being turned on at nothing but your presence but he’s given up. No one ever notices and he can just get off in the bathroom during lunch if he’s desperate enough. Only this time you’re sitting next to him.
He’s already leaking in his pants. 
To make it worse you were being so nice to him, too nice, and now you’re concerned about his health? Not even realizing that you’re the one who’s got him so hot, not a fever. 
“I’m- I’m fine. Thank you.” His voice is entirely flat as he speaks, trying to keep all emotion out of it in fear that you’ll be able to decipher what they mean. He doesn’t look at you, he’s scared he might cum on the spot if he does. 
You take these as signs of dishonesty. “Ethan… Are you sure?” You bring a hand up to feel his cheek, you’re so zoned into whether his skin is too warm or not, that you don't even notice when his eyes dart to your face. You move your hand to his forehead, deciding that his cheek isn’t reliable enough and your eyes meet his. 
You can hear his breath hitch at the eye contact and breaks it. It confuses you for a moment but you try and focus on the task at hand. “I don’t know, you feel kinda warm, Ethan. I don’t know if there’s a nurse on campus but we can check? I’d assume that-” 
His chest warms at your concern and he thinks it over. 
I can spend more time with her this way, and get to know her better. Can I handle spending all that time with her though? What if she notices my- Yeah. Maybe I just shouldn’t…
“Madame Late Pass?” Your eyes are already rolling into your head and you’re groaning quietly as the professor calls you out. You pull your hand away from Ethan’s face and give him the most distasteful stare you can manage. “Is there something wrong with Mr. Landry that’s distracting you from my lesson?”
“Actually sir, I think he might have a fever or something. I should probably take him to the nurse.” It’s an obvious excuse to skip his class but it isn’t technically a lie so he lets it go. You quickly pack your things up with a smile and motion for Ethan to do the same. 
You hold in your giggles until you guys are outside the classroom. “Okay! Do you wanna go to the nurse? We don’t have to- I don’t even know where it is, honestly.” Ethan is facing away from you, silent. 
Anxiety creeps in. “Hey. S- Sorry if you didn’t want to leave class. I- You could probably head back in a little bit… I should’ve asked I’m sorry. I just assumed. I mean wh- who likes econ y’know? I’m- I’m sorry.”
Your stuttering has his blushing even harder, the thought that anything he does could get any reaction out of you makes him smile. “I’m fine and I-” He lets out a light laugh that gives you butterflies “I kinda hate econ.” 
You place yourself in front of him with a huge smile. “Great! So do I, this will be great!” You lock your arms with his, a risky move, it has your heart pounding as he stiffens up with a sharp inhale but he never pulls away. You guys stroll down the corridors and talk. You have to slow your pace to keep up with Ethan and you’re doing most of the talking but you don’t mind one bit. 
You guys stop at the cafeteria for snacks and Ethan gently insists on paying, bringing the butterflies back to life and forcing a smile to your face as you thank him. You’re both sitting in a corner booth, away from most people, you’re talking and he’s squirming. 
Every few minutes he repositions himself and it was starting to get on your nerves a bit. It felt like he was uncomfortable being here, or that he was anxious for you to stop talking. You ended your story early, letting your voice die down, waiting for him to move again before questioning him. “Why are you so squirmy.?” 
He stops his movements instantly, and his eyes hesitantly look up to meet yours. “I’m not squirming.” He watches your feature turn into one of complete skepticism. “Ethan. I have eyes. If you want me to like… be quiet, or talk less or anything you can just say that. I won’t get offended or anything, I know I talk a lot.” You giggle at the end, Ethan twitches in his pants and has to suppress a whimper at the sound. 
“You’re not talking too much. You’re fine, it’s okay.” He’s struggling not to press his palm into his bulge again, needing any relief after being hard for almost half an hour now. Everything you do is making it worse and he doesn’t know how to escape the situation. 
The way you keep touching him is deadly. The way you linked arms with him when walking, the way you rubbed his back and thanked him as he paid and even now, the way you’ve placed your feet right next to his under the table, something about the action has his precum soaking through his jeans.
He doesn’t notice that you finished your food already and you’re now getting up and gathering the trash. He doesn’t have time to tell you he can do it himself before you’re crossing to his side. “I can take this for-” 
His hands cover his lap but you’re already staring. He doesn’t say anything, hoping that you’re staring at his crotch for a reason other than the fact he’s hard as a rock and soaking his pants. Your head tilts in confusion before you sit down, right next to him. Your scent wraps all around him like a blanket, his eyes fall shut as he breathes in your scent, his hands subconsciously massaging his dick gently. You feel the butterflies in your stomach turn to molten lava as you watch him. 
His breathing hitches as his hands stop moving and his eyes snap open. “I’m s- I’m so sorry. I’ll-” He’s gathering the abandoned trash and getting up but you place your hand on his arm softly and pull him back down. 
“You have nothing to be sorry about, Ethan. Although I’d like to know it’s um- origin.” Your heart is racing at the thought that you were the one to make him this hard, that you- just going about your day- could make him this hard. He answers you without saying anything, his face turns piping red again and he looks away. That does it. 
“Ethan, do you wanna come back to my dorm? I have something to… show you.” 
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He’s following close behind you, his shirt pulled down over his crotch and one hand in yours. You’re basically dragging him into your dorm, pressing him into the door the second he closes it. You’re leaning into him, your hands on his chest as his float awkwardly above your hips. 
“I wanna kiss you, Ethan.” He gasps sweetly at your words and leans into you instantly. 
His lips are soft and wet when they meet yours. You whine into his mouth, he moans loudly into yours in response and pulls away. “S- sorry.” His eyes are downcast and he sounds embarrassed. You couldn’t be more confused. 
“What?” You run your hands up his arms, over his shoulders, and to the back of his neck so you can play with his curls. His eyelids flutter at the action and you watch his adam’s apple jump before he speaks. 
“I don’t know. I was- I was loud. I didn’t mean to be…” You can’t help yourself. You smash his lips back into yours, forcing a beautiful moan out of his mouth, followed by a whine before you pull back. “I want you to be loud, Ethan.” 
You whisper the words to him, low and seductive. A little whimper slips out of his mouth and you kiss him again, walking backward towards your bed and he’s stumbling like Bambi as you do. 
His hands are finally on you, wrapped around your waist, trying to pull you in. You maneuver him around to push him onto the bed and straddle him. He’s moaning the moment your weight drops onto him, his hips bucking up into yours against his will and he’s apologizing again. 
You silence him with your lips, attacking his neck, and melting his words into groans and whines. You lift your weight off him, pushing onto your knees and cooing at how he whimpers and tries to follow you with his hips. You push him down to the bed, laying him out for you to admire. You run your hands down his arms, over and down his chest to the bottom of his shirt. Your eyes leave his body to check if he’s okay with this but his head is thrown back, pressing into your pillows with his knuckle between his teeth. 
“Ethan? Are you okay, honey?” A ragged half moan, half sob, shoots from his mouth as his hand leaves his mouth, gripping your arm desperately. He’s still not looking at you and his hands are shaking as they grip you.
“I-It feels s- so fucking g- good. You’re ma-aking me feel so good.” He’s incredibly breathless as his hips grind up into the air, searching for your warmth. You can feel heat explode in your stomach at his words, at his desperation from you just kissing and running your hands over his body. 
You drop your weight back onto him for a moment, to tease him and relieve yourself a bit. He rewards you with a shuddering gasp and his hands come to grip your hips as hard as they could. He can’t even get any words out as your clothed pussy slides over his sensitive cock. Your eyes are shut tight in concentration as you try not to make any noise, wanting to hear his noises instead. You grow a bit frantic in your movements, grinding on him harder, angling yourself a million different ways to try and get the perfect pressure on your clit when you feel his hand on your cheek. 
Your eyes snap open- you hadn’t even realized you closed them- and he’s pulling your lip from between your teeth with hooded eyes on you and a shy smile on his lips. “I wanna hear you too.” His voice is timid and breathy and you can tell he’s being genuine in what he says but all it does is turn you on even more. 
You moan as you dive for his lips, his hips follow yours up and his hand presses your head into his. He’s thrusting into you more forcefully, determined to cum against you but you lift your hips away from his again with a moan as he separates from your lips. “Why? I was- I don’t understand.”
He sounds like he could cry and his hips are still searching for any friction as you watch him, looking into his eyes and admiring all the emotion they hold. You can’t help the smirk that splits your face as he begins to whine for you, begging you to touch him, to make him feel good but instead, you fully remove yourself from him. You sit beside him and tell him to remove his pants, and he excitedly complies. He’s trembling beside you as you stare at the bulge in his briefs, in love with the way he’s leaking through the fabric. “Would it be okay if I touched you, Ethan?” 
You’re fixated on his bulge but you still hear the way his breathing picks up at your question. You crawl in front of him, your thighs laying over his, sitting between his spread legs with your pussy inches from his throbbing cock. Your hands run along his pelvis, tickling the skin just above the band of his underwear, and smiling at the way his stomach tenses under your minstrations. “P- Yes, please. Please- Oh-” 
He gasps prettily as you stick your hands into his underwear and pull his cock out. He hisses when it hits the cold air but falls into a moan as you start pumping him, wasting no time in getting him the pleasure he deserves.
“So. You got hard because..?” You prompt him, wanting to hear the real reason, and deciding this would be the perfect time to tease him. You’re not even sure he heard you, his eyes are still wide and staring at your hand as it glides up and down his cock, extra lubricated from all the precum his dick is spewing for you. 
You watch his face contort in pleasure, his head falling back as his eyes roll back and he begins to whine out your name on repeat. His hands start to shake and grip the sheets tighter, twisting the fabric in his fist before shouting out. “NO-”
You stopped. “Why are you- Why did you s- stop again? I was so- I was so c- close, I was gonna cum-” His voice pitches up at the end into a whine and he tries to fuck himself into your fist. You giggle at him.
“I asked you a question, baby.” He gives you a bitten-off groan at that. “You didn’t answer, which was quite rude but you do that all the time huh?” Your fingers run delicately over his length, watching it twitch as he struggles to respond. “I- don’t m-mean to.” You start jerking him off again, slowly. 
“You- You’re so pretty, I lo- I like y- you so- shit. I can’t speak- you turn me o-on.” He’s barely making sense as his hips fuck into your fist, trying to force you to get him off faster. He keeps cutting himself off with moans and debauched groans. His whole face is red, it’s spread down to his neck and up his ears too.
“I turn you on? That’s why you ignore me?” You stop again, your hand frozen in the middle of his dick. A broken wail shoots from him and his hands shoot up from the sheets to your face, pulling you in for a kiss. He’s licking up and into your mouth while letting his moans spill from his lips into yours. You’re shocked at the desperation and force of the kiss, your lips bruising themselves against his. He’s pulling at your hair gently and moaning as your tongue brushes along the inside his mouth. He pulls back and falls to your neck, whimpering quietly. 
“I can’t think- You make me so- I get so hot around you, mommy.” 
Your heart stops, every molecule in your body getting overrun with arousal at the words- at the name that just left his mouth. He’s pressing kisses into your neck and explaining himself further, as though he’s called you this before, like this is a normal thing between the two of you.
“-And everything about you just makes it so much worse. I just wanna cum for you, I want you to make m- me cum but you keep s-stopping and it hurts so much. I- please, I want you so bad, mommy.” He gasps at the end of his sentence that time and pulls his head out of your neck. 
His lips are wet , soft, and trembling, his eyes are terrified as they scan your face trying to decipher your reaction. He’s breathing fast, in a more panicked way at your silence. “I’m so sor-”
“So you want mommy to make you cum, baby?” His eyes widen with a gentle gasp but he keeps scanning your face, looking for anything that doesn’t feel genuine. His eyes lose focus though, as you begin to stroke his cock again. “I think I can do that… What do you think?” 
He’s nodding at you deliriously as his hips begin to roll themselves into your fist, his hand slides over the sheets until it finds yours and interlocks your fingers, causing warmth to bloom in your chest and stomach. You lean in to kiss his cheek as he moans your name but he turns his head so you catch his lips instead, his moans filling your mouth again. He’s barely kissing you, more like pressing his open mouth against yours, exchanging his breaths for yours as you smile at him. “That feels good, baby?”
His eyes open to meet yours and instantly roll back into his head. “Y- Mommy, don’t stop. Oh- You know it d- does. Please.” He’s interrupting with his own sounds again and his hand is wrapping around your waist, trying to pull your body closer to his. His moans are becoming more frantic and he keeps taking deep, stuttering, breaths in an attempt to calm himself down.
His bottom lip is being bitten red by his teeth, his eyelids are fluttering, struggling not to let his eyes close and roll to the back of his head. You can see his thighs tensing and jumping beside you, they press against your body, tense and stiff as his legs try to shut. 
“So cl- Mommy, I’m so- s-so- please. Oh, fuck.” His eyes snap open to meet yours pathetically. There are little tears that have gathered in his eyes and he looks so out of it, fucked out beyond belief, his head far up in the clouds. “Please don’t stop. Let-” You tilt your head at him as he collapses into a trembling sob, his hands beginning to shake where they hold you, his eyes shut again, and his eyebrows press up into each other. “Let me cum for you, let me cum f- for.”
His sentence is ruined by his orgasm and you can feel the force of it. Not by the way he all but screams your name, or by the way his body folds into yours. You can physically feel it. His cock pulses aggressively in your hand and you can feel each rope of cum work its way up his shaft and spurt out of his tip, running down your knuckles and dripping onto your bed. 
His thighs are trembling at your sides, trying to crush you as he humps your fist the best he can. He’s so loud against your neck, releasing passionate shrieks and wanton whines of your real name or your awarded one. He brings a sweaty hand to your cheek and pushes your face in his direction so he can smother your lips in his saliva, not waiting until he’s connected to your lips to start trying to taste you. You have to suppress a fond giggle at the action, letting him lick into your mouth instead. 
You’re still pumping him, trying to get out all the cum that’s been collecting in his dormant sac. His whole body is shaking now, repeated and choked moans falling into you as he crosses the line of overstimulation. You kiss him languidly and start to slow your hand, not wanting to overwhelm him too much. His fingers untangle from your hand and wrap around your other. 
He pulls away from the kiss and looks at you with hooded, clouded eyes. “I can c-cum again if-” 
He uses his hand to run yours over his shaft, jerking himself off with your hand. “If we- Can we k-keep going?” His eyes begin to cross as your hand establishes a rhythm, you’re not even doing anything, letting him get himself off with your hand. His hips are thrusting up erratically as he moves you frantically over his cock. “I wanna cum f- cum for you a-again.” 
Overcome with arousal, you slide your hand into your pants and start toying with your clit through your panties, your eyes falling shut at the pleasure. You’re already impossibly close, overly sensitive from all the neglect while being pummeled with stimulants; the way Ethan is reacting to you, his trembling body desperately pressing itself against yours, his moans, and the way he calls you mommy.
You hear his moans pick up and your eyes open back up to see his gaze between your legs before snapping up to meet yours. He stops pumping himself with your hand in favor of placing his hand over the one that rests inside your pants. He’s moving his hand in the same motions you are while you start jerking him off again, relishing in the way he’s twitching against your palm.
Ethan knows he isn’t doing anything, he knows that he’s not actually touching you but the way you moan his name makes him feel otherwise. The way you’ll moan at your own movements while his hand moves the same way, has him tricking himself into believing he’s the one making you feel good. The thought has him teetering- tipping over the edge. 
“Gonna cum.” He mumbles against your lips before dropping his head to your shoulder. You move your fingers faster over your clit, your hips beginning to cant up into your hand as your orgasm approaches. 
"Me too, honey. Fuck it feels so good, Ethan.” He moans brokenly as he cums again, thrusting weakly into your hand as his cock twitches pathetically, letting out tiny streams of cum onto your sheets. He’s gasping out a plea into your neck as he cums but you can’t make out what it is.
“-please. Oh, please. Cum, mommy. Cum. C-cum. Please cum. Fu-uck” You can’t help the way your body convulses against him or the shouting moan of his name that shoots out of your mouth as your eyes roll back. You can feel yourself soaking your panties as you shudder against him. His hand is still over yours, moving your finger over your clit in the midst of your orgasm, prolonging it as long as he can before you’re pulling your hand away and kissing him as passionately as you can. 
Both of you have your arms wrapped around the other as you guys kiss, dopey smiles on both of your faces when you pull back. He has a shy blush over his features that makes you giggle and press a kiss on the tip of his nose. You’re both lost in the moment, giggling and kissing each other, love-struck when you hear your dorm room open. “Oh god, what’s that smell?”
You hear your dormmate behind you and cover Ethan as best you can, with your body. “Sidney, fuck off!” You shout at her, hoping she’ll get the memo and leave but instead, you hear her speak again. 
“What?.. Oh eww.” You roll your eyes at her and look at Ethan, his face is red, obviously embarrassed at the presence in the doorway. 
“Oh my god! Shut up and just leave!” She finally leaves and you apologize to Ethan for the interruption. You kiss softly along his jawline and down his neck to calm him down, you fall for him the moment you pull away.
You get to see- for a moment- the face he had while you were kissing him, content and pleased, his eyes shut with a pretty little smile resting on his lips. 
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Thank you so much for reading! and thank you even more for requesting!! Please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all!
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luveline · 1 year
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& speaking of the Steve zombie au series —
would you ever maybe give us a little tidbit of maybe Steve and reader where he finally admits to her not only just how petrified he was when she got kidnapped, but also how much he’s realized that he cannot live without her? I could feel his walls coming down in that last excerpt and felt our boy wanting to just UNLEASH all of his emotions to us and the comforted one vs the comforter, like — ugh my baby 🥲
even if you never wrote this tho your writing and this series is literally unmatched like oh my fucking god I love you and don’t even know you???
thank you so much ♥ for you, fem!reader zombie!au steve
"You want to what?" 
"I want to move into the pantry." 
You stare at Steve, your shock melding into unhappiness. "No, you don't." 
He laughs at your frown and sits up a little taller. He almost drops his tray. "I do! I miss you all the time, I don't see why we chose separate jobs in the first place." 
You look down at your own tray. You and Steve have chanced the unnatural winter sunshine to eat in the quietude outside of the cafeteria, but it's cold despite the sunshine and you don't like the food today and now Steve is… doing whatever it is he's doing. 
"I miss you too," you say. "You want this?" 
"You need to eat." 
"I don't like–" 
"That's never stopped you before," he teases lightly. 
"Forgive me for being picky," you say, and you're not being sarcastic. It's an amazing privilege at this point, and in these circumstances, to be able to turn food away. "You eat it for me, please." 
"We can go to the shop tonight and pick something you like," he says. 
'The shop' is just that, a small store of any excess pantry stuff, luxuries people don't strictly need. You can trade or you can cash in a 'credit' or a few for something. There's been some great stuff in there lately, like marshmallows and a huge box of three musketeers bars. 
"No…" You don't want him to buy you treats. It's like a reward for being difficult. "You can't come to work in the pantry, there isn't anything for you to do." 
"Then I'll do something else. I just want to be here with you." 
"But," you say, alarmed, "you can't do that. We can't be like that." 
You've only just got back to normal. Not normal, because this isn't normal, not this community or the apocalypse or what happened to you, but better than it had been. You get up in the mornings at the same time and eat breakfast in the cafeteria, where Hopper hosts town hall, and then you part for your separate jobs. You work in the kitchen, Steve works as a sort of security guard patrolling the fences of the community to stop a geek invasion, and occasionally leaves the College to bring things back from the abandoned shopping mall a couple of miles away. 
"Be like what?" he asks, sounding like he's about to sulk with you as he puts his tray at the floor by his feet. 
"Codependent." 
"We're already codependent. I think we're allowed." 
"See, that's what everybody says, but–" 
You put your tray down on the floor because you doubt Steve's going to eat it. It clinks next to Steve's with a more aggressive emphasis than you'd wanted.
You look at him, really look at him, eyes scanning his eyes and his mouth and the way he's holding his shoulders. He's tense. He's anxious. 
"Stevie," you say, and offer him your hand. 
He doesn't take it. "But what?" he asks. 
"I need you to be happy," you say, "how can you be happy if you're always worried about me? And when you're not worried about me it's because you're giving up the things you like doing to be near me." 
Your voice is quiet. It's hard to say all that out loud, one half of you worried he'll laugh in your face and say you've got it all wrong, and the other worried you'll hurt his feelings. 
"I need you." 
"Steve, you–" 
"I do," he says, staring a hole into your thigh, "I need you. I went fucking crazy without you." 
"You would've been okay." If something happened to me. 
He shakes his head. "No, I would've been a mess. Probably forever." 
This isn't the first time you've seen Steve vulnerable, but it's been a long time. He's been your pillar of strength, he's held you through nightmares and moments of unreality. He hadn't once wavered. 
You push onto your feet. You stand in front of him, weaving your fingers into the soft hair at the back of his head. 
"Steve," you say, pulling his head into your chest. You don't continue, wanting to say, Why didn't you tell me you felt like that? 
But he had. Hadn't he? He'd crossed the wilderness in the dead winter on a maybe that you'd be somewhere he could reach. 
His shoulders shift under your hand. You think, horrified, that he might be crying. 
"Steve," you whisper, pressing your lips into his hair. "It's okay. You saved me, you know?" 
"But what if I didn't get there in time? You were all alone. You were tied up," he says.
"I'm sorry." You don't know what else to say. You're so sorry. That he would have to think that, and see you like that. "It's my fault. I'm sorry." 
His arms slide behind your back and lock you in so tightly you feel like each of his fingers is touching your spine. You scramble to keep a hold on him. 
"I– you know, I lost my shit in the communal bathrooms and Robin had to tell me to get ahold of myself," he admits, trying to be lighthearted. He sounds strangled. 
"I didn't know that," you say, your eyes filling with tears. 
You have no clue if Steve is crying now. You think he might be. He's unsteady under your hands, the side of his face buried in your sternum, his hands clinging to you like you're a liferaft at sea. You try to calm him down, and find, ashamed of yourself, that you don't know how. 
"I'm so sorry, Steve," you mumble, sniffing his hair. He smells like your shared soap. 
All you can do is let him hug you. Eventually, his grip loosens, and he pull his face from your torso to look up at you. 
"Squeezing you…" He rubs his hands softly over the places he'd gripped. 
"You didn't hurt me. You'd have to try way harder than that, Harrington," you say. 
He reaches up for your face and you let him take it, bending at the waist for a kiss. You ignore the dampness under his eyes at first, thinking maybe that's what he wants. You kiss him all wonky in your desperation to feel it, and you laugh wetly as you lean back. 
You wipe his cheeks. "I love you," you say, and you both fill up with tears again. 
"This is embarrassing," Steve says, laughing with you.
You nod fiercely. Super embarrassing. 
You wouldn't have it any other way, though. You throw your arms around his neck for a second time and kiss the top of his head until you can't feel your lips.
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matan4il · 15 days
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I don't know if you source news from asks, but here's one. Canada always raises the flag of countries we have diplomatic relations with in Ottawa, our capital, on their independence day--and this year the public ceremony for the Israeli one has been cancelled. https://www.thecanadianpressnews.ca/national/ottawa-cancels-public-ceremony-for-israeli-flag-raising-citing-security-concerns/article_161bc224-8d59-50e9-81a2-97235341796f.html 'Security concerns.' They won't even admit to why there are security concerns, just cancel a ceremony for the Jewish population.
Hi Nonnie!
Thank you for this link. I haven't heard it on the news here yet, though I imagine soon enough it'll get reported, because this is so fucked up.
This is literally giving in to bullies. "Oh, you're threatening our Jewish population and our relationship with the Jewish state? Not by talking us into believing you're right, but by threatening violence? We'll just give you exactly what you want, then. This coping tactic has NEVER backfired ever in history, and bullies always relent after you give them a finger, they never continue demanding the whole hand..."
If there truly are security concerns, and that's logical, then... raise your security investment in this event, don't cancel it. Don't reward bullies and threats of violence, because you WILL get more of that. And certainly don't cancel such an event before even consulting the local Jewish community, for which it is so meaningful. Because yeah, I'm gonna let you in on an (easy to guess) secret: as an Israeli, I never knew this ceremony is even taking place. I'm not on a personal level gonna cry over it being canceled, because it was never something I realized I "had." And even as it's taken away, I'm well aware that Israel will continue to thrive despite this, and that a canceled flag ceremony is not more important than us finishing off Hamas, getting our hostages back, and taking care of our civilians' safety. But will the Jewish Canadian community continue to thrive, when it sees this? THAT is what they should have asked themselves, before taking this dumb step and surrendering to antisemitic goons.
It's despicable. It's exactly what's been happening on college campuses as well, and it WILL breed more hatred and violence, first towards Jews, and then towards anyone else the Jihadis don't like. For example, if it was so easy to vilify Israel, why not vilify regular Iranians, who want to see their Islamist regime removed, next? And one day, people will be sitting in a college campus class, trying to understand where it all went wrong. The answer will be these small steps, one at a time. The wilful surrender to bullies and violence.
I hope you're okay, Nonnie! Please take care, and know that Israelis, each one of us who will hear about this, we'll be thinking of you and supporting you as much as we can from afar! xoxox
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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no-psi-nan · 3 months
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🥺🥺🥺 not 2 be sappy on main but omg I actually started off in Deviantart ages ago, that was the closest thing to social media for me until the tumblr migration lol. But I never really interacted with people on there, and even upon moving to tumblr, never really interacted with people here too often either. At first I had my main blog which was meant to be more professional since I was selling art to get a little college income, so I didn't really make too many irrelevant posts. Then I decided that I wanted to be able to reblog art and support other artists, so I made a side blog where I carefully curated and tagged the posts I reblogged. I made a few original posts but no one ever interacted, and eventually I realized that people only ever sent me asks there if I tagged anything wrong. Also I found out that adding stuff like series and character tags to a reblog on tumblr is basically useless because the op will pretty much always tag those things which makes it searchable on your own blog even if you don't tag it yourself. And if op DIDN'T tag it those things, your tags will make the post searchable on your blog but NOT in the general search, so it doesn't give op any more of a boost than just reblogging it tagless. So I made another sideblog, which I still have today, and I just rapidfire reblog literally anything I find shareworthy lol. Not any interaction there but at least I'm not wasting my time meticulously tagging strangers posts hsfjdlshfks. Since I was best friends with a big name fan in my main fandom (we became friends when I left a long emotional comment on their fanfic btw <3), I helped run some small fandom events and met more people as well. When I switched fandoms, it was a fandom event that gave me a new friend too, my posts never got any traction. Large fandom discords didn't really work for me either. But on this blog I was lucky, and for the first time people started like actually responding to my comments and posts, and get conversations going! And genuinely that's what's kept my brain rot so powerful I think, because bouncing ideas off each other and joking around and shitposting is genuinely the most fun I've ever had online!! I have to thank desta and oatmeal for the fun times especially, and hillbilly---man left really nice comments on my first few fics that really encouraged me, and I always have fun trading ideas with alienn, saikikthoughts, and crookedlyinnernightmare, plus everyone else who's on here, that's too many people to type out. AND I TYPED UP A BUNCH MORE STUFF BUT TUMBLR FUCKING DELETED IT!! Are you shitting me.... Well I think I remember saying that even if it's been getting kinda quiet and boring lately so my attention is starting to wander (I've pretty much posted all of the meta that's not deep fanfic hc at this point and my drawings take me a long time to make), I'll never delete this blog and I'll still be putzing around online until the day I die probably. And I'll always remember these days fondly and hope to find another great community like this one. And also I highly encourage everyone to post, reply, interact, and play with fellow fans! I've made lifelong friendships over blorbos and even if we don't have the same blorbos any more, we're still friends. Obviously stay safe online, never send money to strangers, probably wait like a year to start shipping each other stuff but still, reach out because you never know who you might meet! I've been lonely irl for most of my life for various reasons, and my online friends have been a lifeline honestly, they're all really important to me. Two of my best friends today come from fanfic comment sections!! Also I need to get around to archiving my meta on AO3 lol (yup, it's for meta too!) but that's gonna be a lot of work so -_-U).
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serkonans · 5 days
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it's 4 am i'm wide awake and also deliriously tired at once somehow so i'm gonna just ramble out what's on my mind
so there's this project i'm on at work, right, which i've been on in some capacity for a year and a half. when i first started on the project, i attended meetings where i listened to people give presentations on different issues that needed to be solved, and those issues were completely incomprehensible to me. everything was so complex and multilayered and required so much context and logic that it was like my brain couldn't even grapple with the breadth of how much i didn't know and would just go totally blank.
there were two guys who gave a lot of these presentations, who i was really in awe of because i felt like they must be otherworldly smart to understand any of it, let alone break it down for others and present possible solutions. in my mind, they became The Guys to impress. if i could somehow get them to think i knew my shit, that would mean i really knew it.
so i've spent the last year and a half dedicating myself to learning everything i can about this project and the different facets of it. i'm the one giving a lot of presentations that they listen to now. i'm pulled into meetings with a Bunch of people (including them) who are fiercely smart and fantastic problem solvers. and i spend so much of my time thinking no way in hell do i deserve to be in these rooms. my imposter syndrome is so large and looming all the time and i worry incessantly that someone is gonna notice and they're all going to point and laugh and turn to face away from me and i'll never win anyone back over because of my comparative idiocy.
but my kind-of-boss told me that one of them has said multiple times how smart he thinks i am and that he's so impressed by me, and i found out just two days ago that the other was really glad that i was in that room and giving the input i was giving. that one actually said as much to my face. and it was wild bc i literally got the validation i'd been so desperate for and inside i basically was like ......nah thank you but that's nothing.
because of course imposter syndrome is not something that can be cured through external means. so i was realizing that i'm going to have to solve it by finding an internal sense of validation. but while i was thinking about where the hell i was going to find that, i had something occur to me.
of those two guys, both have been at the company for years and years... one has been on this project since its inception 5+ years ago and worked for the company before that as well, and the other has worked for the company since he was in college and is 14 years in at this point and has been working on this project for almost as long as the other. it's not like we all started on the same day and they just intuitively got it and i didn't. they had a shit ton more experience and context for literally every single piece of what they were communicating than i did. they didn't get that overnight.
and i've thought "WHY" so many times about that one thinking i'm so impressive but when i stop to think about it as like. if i'm a guy who's been working on this for over 5 years and i've seen almost everyone involved in this project come and go and i've explained the same concepts a thousand times and basically written the project bible, and then some kid comes out of nowhere and is able to quote that bible back to me and give valuable presentations and feedback (and occasionally say something that stops me in my tracks and forces me to reconsider a plan of action) in a matter of months, i would probably also be like who the hell is this and how do we keep him here.
like. if i step out of my own head where i have been bemoaning not being a 100% flawless expert all the time 1.5 years in, and look at it from an angle of literally anyone else, that shit actually is pretty fucking impressive. like i can actually conceptualize how it would require me to be both intelligent and dedicated in order to get there, and how much respect that would garner for a lot of people. i would want me in the room, and i would certainly want me to be paying attention and speaking up while i was there, and not thinking about whether or not i belonged.
just wild to think about if i'm being real. like goddamn i have been really hard on myself and held myself to really exacting standards that have not been reasonable at all. and also idk. maybe if everyone around me that i'm looking up to is so smart, they'd be able to see through it if i wasn't. and maybe if i stopped thinking so much about whether or not i deserve to be viewed that way, i would be able to spend more time proving exactly why i do.
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koreofitall · 10 months
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Hi guys, it's been a little while, huh? Just over a month lol. I'm gonna ramble some under the cut. Thank you for holding space for me 🖤
A month doesn't sound that long, but it's felt like an eternity 🫠 anyways.
I had to disappear for a bit for my own sake. Being online was getting very overwhelming for me, even on tumblr (not bc of anything specific here tho). The constant trash state the world is really a killer, and I didn't want to completely burn myself from the internet, so I just decided to take a little break. I struggle a lot with the thought that I'm not thought of or remembered. It's kind of like 'if I disappear, would anyone care' sort of thing, y'know? I'm sorry for not saying anything. I'm working on this kind of stuff everyday.
So. I've been struggling with grief recently, and a lot of it. I had to cut ties with a direct family member not too long ago, and grieving the loss of somebody who's still alive is just as hard as grieving someone who isn't. The more I'd go about my day to day, the more I realized that I never had the relationship I so desperately craved with them, even after working so hard to preserve what I thought was there. It's hard as fuck to come to terms with that. It's come with battling thoughts of worthiness and such as well, but just because I don't have the relationships I crave so badly in my life right now doesn't mean I never will. It's cost me a lot of heartache to be able to say that for myself, but I'm glad I've grown able to do so.
I've also just been grieving the life I'd hoped I'd have by now. One that's full of the most divine love and fulfillment. I'm a music and theatre artist. Went to school for it. Shit, planned to be performing on the biggest of stages by the time I'm the age that I am now. I also hoped to be surrounded by people and relationships FILLED with love. I thought I had that, really. That hasn't happened, though, and it feels very far away. I'm lonely and depressed and truly living my 20s, it seems 😅 (not to mention it costs so damn much just to live 🙃) Everyone is on their own time line, but maaaaaaaan. If feels like such a sucker punch to the gut when I think about how vibrant and excited I was to live my life when I graduated college, and now I'm really just trying to survive day by day. Most of the time, we're not prepared for what life throws at us, and I've learned that the hard way.
This community on tumblr has always been a sort of safe haven for me, from the years I spent lurking, to making my snzblog just a little over a year ago (I think it was literally late july of last year I created it, so yay 🥳) thanks for letting me ramble 🖤 hope you guys are doing okay.
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hibernationsuit · 7 months
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👁️😭👪💤☕️🍁🕷️🙈📣🔪 for tobyyyyyyyy OMG i just realised i sent a fuck ton here... you don't have to do them all... i even had to stop myself from sending more LMAO
sjdjjdjefkjdfk dw about it omg i lovw talking about this guy sm <3 thank uuuu!!!
👁️ EYE - what colour are their eyes? do people notice their eyes? is there anything special about them (shows emotion easily, literally magical...)?
Dark brown!!! And ajdjfjfjf yeah many definitely do :')
😭 CRYING - what makes them cry? do they cry easily?
OUGH. Definitely something really bad happening to him or people close to him, and also stress </3
As for crying itself... Toby's social environment during his childhood and teenage years was sadly...not so good </3. Competitiveness and overall toxic environment really affected him, and so he started to hide his emotions so he wouldn't look "weak" among his peers. He's slowly getting rid of this habit but waking up in Halcyon and seeing all that definitely fucked up all the process he had :(
Crying is something that's really hard for him to show, and to be honest I don't think that he's ever done it in front of anyone else but Klara :(
putting the rest under the cut so this post won't be so long on the dash ajdjfkffkf
👪 FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?
Tobias's dad & mother got divorced when he was six, and his mother decided to cut all ties between them, so Toby didn't really know his father until like, accidentally meeting him a few months before leaving Earth. They managed to catch up a little and I'd say they had a good relationship 🥺
As for his mother and stepfather...It's bad (tm). He comes from a place where competition was strong among the community even btwn children which already brought some pressure ino his life, but while you'd think he'd get at least some support from his family, nope. His mother and stepfather wanted a perfect child, someone who's always on the top of all kind of competitions, school tests and hobbies. And while he managed to do what they wanted, it has definitely affected his mental health AND his relationship with them.
They wanted him to become a doctor, but he hated even the idea of it. That's not what he wanted. And so, when the time came to apply to college, he instead chose the one that was as far away from home and chose the subject he loved the most - a first time he actually made his own choice instead of following his parents' wishes. They reacted strongly, disagreeing and saying that they do not want someone who didn't want to strive for the best to be part of their family, and were like, "maybe you should think about it and go to x instead." He realized that there really is no point in staying in a family that only sees him as a way to show off in front of neighbors, instead of appreciating him as he is, and left. They haven't seen each other after that.
Does he have siblings? Yes, a sister. But he doesn't know about her :(
💤 SLEEPING - do they fall asleep easily? what helps them sleep?
No 😭 He's the worst at falling asleep and it might take him an hour on average to actually fall asleep. Additionally to just not being able to fall asleep quickly, another problem is that he's so used to the way he slept back on Earth (lots of pillows, ability to open the window, Klara sleeping close to him etc etc.) it's even harder for him to fall asleep. The bed isn't comfortable (until he manages to collect more pillows better blanket) and at first he just ends up getting so exhausted that he just. falls asleep on the sofas in the kitchen. Somehow that's more comfortable?
☕️ HOT BEVERAGE - do they prefer hot or cold drinks? what is their favourite drink?
Hot drinks!! He loves hot coffee or tea <3 His favorite drink is latte with vanilla syrup :3
🍁 MAPLE LEAF - what is their favourite season? why?
Autumn!!! He loves how colorful the trees are, the rainy weather, and of course finally getting to wear sweaters.
🕷️ SPIDER - what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational / mundane fears?
Fear or eye trauma is a big one, he's so afraid of it that he starts feeling very uncomfortable even when seeing a simple photo of it.
He's also scared of deep water. Rivers and ponds are fine, but if it's something where you can't stand and still have your head above water, he's not even stepping close to the water.
🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?
Self doubt 😔 Everyone tends to see him as someone who's always confident and sure about everything he does, but that is definitely not who he is. He's always bad at decisions, tends to dwell on his mistakes and other possible outcomes, and never believes in his own skills. But why shatter everyone's image of himself by showing that side to them?
📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?
I'd say he's definitely not loud. I don't really have a voice claim for him sadly and my brain is...bad with voices, especially describing? So not really able to answer that yet BUT I'll definitely get back to this question hehe <3
🔪 KNIFE - how do they react to injury / misfortune befalling their loved ones (significant other, family, friends)? do they put themselves at blame?
This guy will blame himself for literally anything, even if he had nothing to do with it tbh 😔 BUT since we're talking about what he'd do, I would definitely say that he would be helping them as much as he can 🥺
oc emoji asks
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milo-manheim-luver · 11 months
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15 questions for 15 mutuals
hahah thank you for tagging me @slut4drudy and @runningfrom2am glad to know ppl actually want to know more about me. 🤭
1. Are you named after anyone?: yeah, my middle name is my moms middle name and my grandmas and my great grandmas and i think one of my aunts… 😒 (i hate it because it’s basic 😭)
2. When was the last time you cried?: last week…. i hit a fucking coyote on the highway and started crying. i’m horrible i know ✋🏻 no need to tell me. i even tried to dodge it and was tbh probs close to hitting the car in the lane next to mine. i’ve just come to the conclusion i suck at driving.
3. Do you have kids?: no 😭 but i better have some. and it better be with a hot, tall man who can actually tan because i don’t want my children being cursed with my poor genetics of being short and pale as a ghost to where the sun literally reflects off my skin 😭 it’s horrible. i hate it. it’s unfair. and before anyone says “use tanning lotion” babe it doesn’t fucking work on me. i got those strong scottish/celtic genes.
4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?: idk probably just a little bit?? note: i’m going through this reading my answers and have realized i am quite sarcastic. my apologies luvies.
5. What sports do you play/have you played?: played basketball in the third grade but never again because kids in my tiny town are stupid geezers who make fun of you if you’re not perfect even though they sucked too. i mainly stuck with marching band like a good, innocent girl that i am🤭
6. What’s the first thing you notice about other people?: their vibe? and maybe their style? idek
7. Scary movies or happy endings?: HAPPY ENDINGS. i cant take scary movies. i get too scared 😂 i just hide my face the WHOLE time.
8. Any special talents?: i know how to play the flute if that counts. and a tad bit of piccolo. i played the flute for 7 years in school. i don’t play it much now but i still know how to play OH and read music for the most part. i’m so cool.
9. Where were you born?: missouri of all places 💀 i hate it here. get me out. it’s misery not missouri. the amount of morons in this state baffles me every day. legit. like people here are so absurd it hurts my brain.
10. What are your hobbies?: i like traveling. i have only traveled on my own. i’ve never taken a trip with someone where flying is involved. so i save my money and blow it all on a trip like once a year…. i’m terrible with money. next stop is nyc 🥳 maybe i’ll fun in to brooke starkey and say she’s a queen and fashion icon (i’ll pretend i don’t know her. just be like omg i love that outfit!)
11. Do you have any pets?: like personally mine? i used to… but then she got mauled to death by my sister’s dog 4 years ago💀 (i have to joke about it or i’ll be depressed for the next year again) (after she died my ass didn’t give a shit about myself and was lowkey reckless while driving and didn’t eat and hardly showered) nah but my family has 4 springers who are crackheads.
12. How tall are you?: 5’4 1/2 but i leave off the half. i’m the shortest in my family and get teased by it all the time 😌 that’s okay though. i need a tall man to reach the higher shelves anyways.
13. Fave subject in school?: math because i was in advanced math in high school and never tried but was getting C’s and some B’s. i think it just came naturally to me.
14. Dream job?: zoologist or marine biologist. that’s what i planned on doing until i dropped out of community college and then decided to go back but then dropped out again 💀 i cant make this shit up bro. all in under 2 1/2 years #slay
15. Eye color?: i get to flex on this one to all my drew/rafe girlies… i have like light blue eyes which pairs well with my egg white skin tone. ✌🏻 hahahaha. they get even more blue when i cry. so often.
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svartalfhild · 1 year
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Summer Reading/Writing/Arting Tag
Tagged by @late-nite-scholar to complete this "get to know the author" tag game. Thank you~!
Tagging: @wayfaring-rune, @celamity, @boxingcleverrr, @mxphanes
1) Describe one creative WIP project you’re planning to work on over the summer.
Just one? Well shit, that's tough. I have so many ideas percolating in my noodle, both in terms of writing and art.
Let's see...aside from my current ongoing march of ESO fic which is very likely to continue through the rest of the year, I do have a cyberpunk novel I've been wanting to continue working on. It's currently titled Ars Voltaica, and it's set in Detroit about a hundred years from now. It's about a young woman fresh out of college who gets into a corporate sponsored debt relief program in which she has to sign a contract to work in the data entry department of said corporation for five years and also live entirely on their campus. While she's there, she becomes privy to some information she shouldn't know and oops! suddenly she has to flee for her life. And that's just the beginning! There's a lot of stuff to do with androids in there. One of the central characters, the personal assistant of the corporate boss, is an android, and he's got wild shit going on with him. A lot of my motivation for this story comes out of me being mightily salty about how bad Detroit: Become Human is lol.
Anyway! In terms of art, the main thing on the docket is doing the final player character portrait for my DnD group. He's a Fallen Aasimar Conquest Paladin who's getting his holy power from Bane but doesn't realize it yet. He's played by my friend Jim.
2) Rec a book!
Aw shit I'm not the reader I used to be, and unfortunately I've disliked more of the books I've read lately than I've liked. I can always go back to reccing the Starlight & Shadows trilogy by Elaine Cunningham for the DnD novel inclined who want to read about a drow other than Drizzt or Jarlaxle who is also a lady. The story actually explains why drow magic works on the surface when it didn't used to. Also a good series if you're a fan of fancy wizard/scruffy barbarian romances.
3) Rec a fic! (outside your character tag)
Once again, I'm not the reader I used to be, but every now and again, when I'm thinking about my love for Perc'ahlia from Campaign 1 of Critical Role, I remember AFK: a critrole MMO AU and how fucking good it was, both in concept and execution. The premise is that the characters are living in the modern world and all know each other through playing an MMO together.
4) Rec music!
Kill the Alarm's album Fire Away is nothing but bangers (especially the title song) and tastes of distilled 2008 to me. Been listening to those songs for a looooong time.
Eva Under Fire's cover of Separate Ways fucking slaps and it's been in heavy rotation lately.
5) Share one piece of advice!
Let me share a writing secret from your friendly neighbourhood linguist: in fiction, grammar is your bitch, and anyone who tells you different is trying to sell something. Obviously it's good to know grammar rules, and a certain amount of obeying those rules is necessary for coherent and clear communication, but everything after that is fair game. You can have your characters speak in run-on sentences, because people do that all the time in real life, and it doesn't even always sound awkward. You. Can. Put. Periods. In. Improper. Places. You know why? Because bending and breaking the rules can convey something that following the rules can't. Think of the way people convey tone and cadence in their posts online or in texts. You can totally do some of those tricks in your writing to get the vibe you want, especially in dialogue.
Related: "don't split your infinitives" and "never end a sentence with a preposition" are fake rules literally made up by some asshole scholars during the Renaissance because they thought English needed to be more like Latin. Don't pay any mind to that shit. You can quote me on that.
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I guess I never really actually believed I would make it I mean be able to support myself with music but I always hoped. things have sort of just worked out for me in life. so I think it's good like right now when I am just hitting a fucking wall. like there is nothing. I don't think I'm particularly confident just psychotic or unconcerned. like you have to care you have to really really care. which is difficult for me. with music too I realized a long time ago I'm not going to be making these indie rock lesbian youtube hits. and I think this is just not caring. I don't give a fuck. like life is literally being raped and you just have to deal with it. life is literally prison rape and you can either resent it and hate it and fight back and try to do your own thing on your own terms like I have done, or you can sort adjust like henry bellows, find something to enjoy about it. but more than that you have to care deeply, you have to take scraps and say "thank you thank you so much you're the greatest." you're eating crumbs while someone else has a loaf of bread and you say "oh thank you you're so kind and generous." I hate this. I hate it so much and I don't know if I can fake it. but my lesson learned in these past weeks is that I have to try and I have to care. and things do not always work out the way I want them to and will not if I don't try. so anyways I'm going to try to go to college and shit. old heads will remember when I did a year at community college lol. I did pretty well then it was very easy. but again I just hate playing this game. I'll try to get into some state school back in the fatherland. also because my friend just had a kid and I want so much to help him I want to be there for him and even give him money force him to take money, buy the kid clothes, take him and his wife and the kid out to eat, look after the kid while they go on a date whatever whatever you know. but I can't I can't even take care of myself and I just hate weakness I despise it I despise my own weakness. so even though I hate getting prison raped I feel like I just need to ride the tiger you know, play the game so I can live so I can have this stupid retarded fucking disgusting repulsive false freedom. I can have my own house I can have my little life. I can have friends I can be stable I can contribute something because now I am just taking I'm a leech I'm just sucking the life out of everything and I hate this. I'm sucking the life out of myself I'm a husk. and i never required much out of life I don't want much I just want to live comfortably.
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in-ky · 3 years
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An Old Scent [1] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)
Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.
Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, age gap, Negan
A/N: yay first fic! this will have four parts! i hope everyone enjoys. this is an au where the apocalypse never happened. 3.2k words
I squinted as I stepped out into the bright Virginian sun. People swarmed all around me, creating the steady hum of airport ambience that I had grown accustomed to over the years. I had just gotten off a four-hour flight home from college and all I wanted to do was shower and curl up in bed. But I couldn't. Oh, no. First I had to endure a fun thirty-minute car ride with my best friend since second grade. I scanned the curb in front of me for her small black car and caught sight of a tall woman waving at me. I grinned and walked forward, tugging along my baggage behind me.
"Ugh, it's so good to see you, Bee." I sighed as I enveloped my friend into a large hug. She let out a laugh and swayed us gently.
"It's good to see you, too," She hummed, rustling my hair "I forgot how short you were." Bee was an alpha; tall, muscular, and very quick to remind me of our differences. Of course, it was in a 'joking with love' kind of way. I was an omega; small, rounded, and very quick to punch her gently in the abdomen.
"I forgot how much of a jerk you are." I quipped, huffing and wheeling my bag to her trunk.
"Oh, come on, babes, don't be like that," Bee laughed, opening the driver side door and waiting for me to walk back to my side. "Now get in, we've got a lot of catching up to do."
---
"How are your heats going?"
"Jesus, that's what you want to start with?" I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Bee shrugged.
"We don't have to if you don't want to," She clarified, turning out onto the street "I'm just saying, I know they've gotten pretty bad as we've gotten older. Did you try out those tips I sent you?"
"Yea, I did," I said quietly, looking at the trees rushing by on the side of the highway "They worked for a while but..."
"But you need an alpha," Bee sighed, finishing the sentence for me.
"That's the plan for this summer," I agreed "Might finally settle down."
"You know, I'm always here if you need me." She said with a wink. I scoffed at her.
"I'm not that desperate," I laughed, shoving her lightly "Not yet, at least."
"Anyone take your interest back in Colorado?"
"Not really," I hummed, tilting my head in consideration. "There was this one guy. We dated for a few months but towards the end he became a total knot-head. He couldn't keep his hands off me. I thought it was cute at first, but after I started to miss a few classes...well, that shit got old pretty quickly." Bee made a disgusted noise.
"Ugh, men," She grunted, wrinkling her nose "I'm glad I never went through that phase. I'm perfectly happy with chicks, thank you very much. Much less of a pain in my ass."
"Oh, they're not so bad," I smirked "I think it's just alphas in general." She glared at me momentarily and I stuck my tongue out at her. We drove in a comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company. That was always something I loved about Bee. We never had to fill every second with chatter, we could just exist together in the same space and be just as content. She started to hum along to the song that buzzed softly from the radio and my eyes tracked a hawk. Soon enough, we reached our exit and Bee turned the car onto a smaller road, starting the countdown to my arrival home.
"Are you excited to see your dad?" Bee asked, killing the silence.
"Yea, I am," I smiled. We hadn't always had the best of relationships, but the distance that college gave had done wonders for us. A few texts and calls had worked perfectly for us. When he invited me to stay a few weeks during summer I gladly accepted. I wanted to see just how well our relationship had strengthened. Plus I knew he really needed someone.
"How's he doing?" There was genuine concern in Bee's voice. A few months ago, my mom had revealed that she had been having an affair with one of dad's work buddies. She left with him and took my brother down to Georgia.
"I think he's okay. But you know dad, he's not really an emotions guy. He was starting to get some closure but then the divorce papers came in the mail. That really hurt him," I told her, twisting a strand of my hair around my finger. "I just don't know how Lori could do that to him, you know? She won't even let Carl up to visit. The new baby's cute, though. Looks just like Shane." Bee hummed in acknowledgement.
"Well, tell him I said hi, alright?"
"Will do." A few more seconds of silence passed. Until we stopped at a light. Bee looked up and spotted a billboard that sported a very familiar, very handsome face.
"Holy shit!" Bee shrieked, slapping my arm.
"Ow, what the hell?" I hissed, grabbing my shoulder. She pointed frantically at the sign.
"That guy! Isn't that, shit- the hell's his name?" Pulling my eyes from my lap, I let them settle on the object of her excitement. All of the color drained from my face. It was an add for a law firm. There was an old geezer posing proudly on the left, and to his right, was the man who haunted my wet dreams for the majority of high school.
"Negan." I gulped.
"Yea, your dad's hot friend you never shut up about." Bee groaned, pressing on the gas and moving us away from the sign. Negan was a lawyer/make-shift-law-professor and baseball coach at the local community college. He had a sort-of contract with my dad's department. Many times I had come home after school to the two of them puzzling out a case on the kitchen table. Negan was an alpha of alphas, something that got my little omega heart (and other things) pumping until I couldn't breath. His humor and dominating persona made me blush a deep crimson color any time I saw him. Sometimes I would spend hours sitting on the stairs just listening to him talk to my dad. His voice was something else. I had gushed to Bee about him countless times during our times at high school. But I hadn't seen him since my graduation party.
"I wonder if you'll see him again," Bee teased, nudging me again to pull me out of my trance of memories. Then, she did a dramatic gasp. "What if he's your mate?" It was my turn to slap her in the shoulder.
"He's older than my dad!" I squealed, burying my now-blushing cheeks in my hands.
"You're an adult I don't think it matters."
"I think he's engaged."
"Just 'cause there's a goalie doesn't mean you can't scoooore." Bee pulled a face at me and I returned her grimace.
"Whatever, you're lucky we're almost at my house." I huffed, falling back into my seat with my arms crossed over my chest.
"Oh, yea, omega? What are you gonna do?" I rolled my eyes as she laughed off my grumpiness. We rolled to a stop in front of my driveway and a leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.
"Thanks so much, Bee, I really appreciate you," I grinned, popping open the door.
"No problem, babes," She winked, unlocking the trunk "But I swear to the gods, you better fucking call me and give me updates on everything, especially if you run into Mr. Hotcakes." I rolled my eyes once more and promised her I would before closing the door. I retrieved my bag and gave her a wave as she drove down the street. When she was out of view, I took a deep breath and turned around, walking up the driveway to the front door.
I knocked heavily on the dark oak door. While I waited for someone to answer, I decided to look around at the home I had left behind about a year ago. My childhood home had changed now and then over the years, but there were still some iconic pieces of memories in the front yard that could never be forgotten. My personal favorite was Eddie the garden gnome. He was a standard gnome: small and stout with a large white beard that led into a pointy red hat. His eyes were shut and his mouth was curved into a smile. However, he was missing a nose. I grinned as I recalled the unfortunate mishap that caused Eddie to become deformed. I was about twelve, and carl was five. He had gotten a kid's baseball from Negan for his birthday and had begged me to teach him how to play, since I was on the local softball team at the time. I relented and set it up in the front yard. Eddie was our outfielder. Eddie didn't have a mitt. Well, he did, but it was his face. Carl absolutely smashed the first pitch I tossed at him and hit poor Eddie right in the face, shattering his round, pink nose into pieces. Carl bursted into tears and I had to promise him that he did not in fact kill our precious protector of our house. Lori ran out frantically and comforted her son before giving me a thorough chewing out for damaging Eddie. We never used the set again. That she knew of, anyways. Negan always let us play in his yard, though. I smiled at the memory, but the clicking of the lock to the door pulled me from my train of thought. The door swung open and I was met with the smiling face of my father.
"Sweetie, I'm so glad you made it!" He laughed, pulling me in swiftly and squeezing me tight.
"It's good to see you too, dad." I croaked, letting out a small chuckle. I tapped on his shoulder as a signal for him to let go.
"How was the flight?" He asked as he stepped out to grab my bag. I told him it was good but that the screaming kids had given me a bit of a headache. He gave a small laugh and gestured for me to enter. I thanked him and he rolled my bag in behind me. We exchanged a few words but as soon as I walked through the kitchen into the doorway of the living room I was hit by a wall. Not literally, no, but rather a wall of overwhelming scent. It was a delicious swirl of campfire and whiskey, with a hint of cigarettes and leather. I paused for a moment, my eyes forced closed and my lungs taking a deep breath of the intoxicating air. Colors danced across my eyelids. My whole body was flooded with warmth and my toes tingled. I felt safe and calm, and there was something else; something deep within my stomach that I couldn't quite identify, something I never felt before. My eyes snapped open when I felt my father's hand rest firmly on my shoulder.
"I hope you don't mind, sweetie, but I invited company over while I was waiting for you to arrive," He smiled at me. I got a good look at him then. He looked the same, his hair was a bit longer, a bit greyer. But his eyes were different. They were darker, rounder, rawer. I gave a soft smile and told him it was fine. He guided me into the living room. It was then I realized where that deadly smell was coming from. Or, rather, who it was coming from. "Negan, you remember my girl." In that moment, I held my breath as I scanned Negan. He looked fucking amazing, just as he always had. Perfect dimples guarding a charming smile, all surrounded by a gorgeous salt and pepper beard. His hair was longer than it was when I had left, not slicked back, but it still framed his face perfectly. Negan's body was draped casually over the sectional couch, legs crossed at the ankle on the ottoman. His arms were on the top of the couch and his wrists were dangling. He knew he was hot. That bastard. I suddenly became aware of his eyes raking over my form and I shifted from one foot to the other.
"'course I do, Rick," Negan said, voice silky and deep. I couldn't help but let a small shudder run down my spine. All I wanted to do was kneel down in front of him and curl up at his feet. I forced my inner omega down, shaking the thought from my head. "How could I forget the little slugger?" I cringed inside at the nickname. Especially the use of the word 'little'. I begged that he didn't still see me as the kid down the street. Instead as a grown woman. A grown omega.
"Hi, Negan." I greeted with a small smile, swallowing to relieve my dry throat. Now that I was next to him, his scent was clogging all my senses. I gripped onto the couch and lowered myself onto the cushion, hoping to ground myself. It helped, just barely. My heart was pounding, my instincts telling me to submit to this man in front of me. Why, though? Why now? He had never smelled this good before. No alpha had. Was I getting close to my heat? I did have a stomach ache, but that could be from Negan alone.
"Hey, sweetheart. How's college goin'?" Negan asked, sipping on his drink. He kept eye contact with me the whole time. Rick handed me a glass of soda and I thanked him.
"It's good!" I said after taking a sip, thankful for the hydration in my coarse throat "Towards the end it got a little hectic, but I was able to stay on top of everything, thankfully."
"You're studying film, right?" He asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
"That's right," I grinned, crossing my legs to relieve some of the pressure the movement caused to build up in my lower abdomen "You still teaching law?" This caused him to chuckle. Literally music to my ear.
"If that's what you want to fuckin' call it." Negan sighed, falling back to his original position, hands resting in his lap "I talk, the kids kinda listen. I just do it for the coaching job, really. You remember how much I love that damn sport, right?"
"Baseball?" I asked, raising a brow "You mean the only thing you talked about at all of the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners you were invited to?"
"Touché." Negan grinned. Goddamn that smile. Butterflies erupted in my chest, beating hard against my ribcage, begging to throw myself at his chest and bury myself in him. Rick cleared his throat and smiled at me to get my attention.
"I want to know more about your college experience!" He beamed, rubbing a hand through his beard "Any special alphas you've got your eyes on?" I heard Negan choke slightly on his whiskey. A small bubble of pride rose in my chest. I laughed at his words.
"Dad, I don't think Negan wants to hear about my love life."
"Shit, doll, I don't mind," He grumbled "I don't get to hear any drama now-a-days"
"What do you mean?" I giggled, tilting my head "You argue for a living. Your job is to literally deal with drama."
"Yea, but that's complex drama," He growled, waving his hand dismissively "I wanna hear simple, schoolgirl 'he loves me, he loves me not' kind of bullshit."
"Well sorry to disappoint," I snorted, running a hand through my hair "but no, there's no one I have an eye on." Dad's smile turned into a frown.
"Shame." I heard Negan whisper. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it. It was quiet, barely above his breath, and he said it while twirling his whiskey, following the words with a large gulp.
"You really should start looking, dear." Dad said with a sigh "You know it only gets harder as you get older."
"Dad please, I don't..." I cut him off "Listen, I appreciate you trying to understand this stuff, I really do, but I don't really want to talk about it with my father." He looked at me with an understanding smile.
"Sure," He nodded "But if you ever need anything, anything at all, you just let me know, alright." I nodded.
"Well, this sure has been fun, Ricky-boy," Negan grinned, getting to his feet and stretching his arms far above his head. "We do have that big court case in the mornin', though, and I need my shut-eye."
"Big case, eh?" I asked, rising from my seat as well. Dad nodded and excitement sparked in his eyes.
"You should come! It's an open court and I would love for you to see what I do. I know you always wanted to as a kid, but your mom made you wait until you were older. Well, now's the perfect time!" He rambled, grasping my shoulders.
"W-Well, I dunno, I don't want to be a distraction," I stumbled, taken aback by my father's display of enthusiasm. I turned to Negan, as if asking for permission. He just laughed.
"Oh-o, doll, I don't get distracted. Not in there, not anywhere. Don't you worry about a goddamn thing. You should come, Rick seems like he really wants you to."
"Okay, then," I grinned, nodding in commitment "I'll see you there in the morning then." I looked up to Negan and we locked eyes for a brief moment. But in that moment, something within me quivered. He brushed up against me and smirked down at me.
"See you tomorrow, sweetheart. It was nice to see you. You're lookin' great." It took all my willpower not to let out a whimper as he walked past me, taking his glorious scent with him.
My dad said that he should also get some rest, but that I could stay up as long as I wanted to. I was pretty wiped from my flight so I opted to follow him up the narrow staircase, tugging my bag behind me. I hugged him goodnight and stepped into my room. It hadn't been touched since I left last summer. The forest green bedspread was still perfectly tucked into the mattress and two plump pillows were perched at the head of the bed. My muscles ached for the soft release of sleep. I put my suitcase down by my dresser, taking a moment to smile at some old photos of me and Bee as kids. I showered and brushed my teeth before getting into the comfortable bed. I looked up at the ceiling and giggled softly at the glow-in-the-dark stars shining overhead. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, but for some reason, all of my dreams were plagued by the sweet smell, sound, sight, feeling, and taste of Negan.
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satendou · 4 years
Text
⟼  monster
⍣ all time low series | next | 1/4
・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・
⇢  pairing: tendo/reader
⇢ au: atl!au, college!au
⇢ summary: you like horror movies, tendou likes horror movies, what could go wrong?
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⇥ masterlist
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⇢ warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, mentions of bullying, insecurities, piercings, cursing
⇢ word count: 13.2k
・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・
⇢ a/n: i think this is the biggest fic i’ve ever written and it’s one of my favorites, if not my absolute favorite i’ve written so far. it was kinda hard to write it in a way that stayed true to my vision for it but also didn’t make it childish, so i hope i succeeded in that regard. as always, thank you to @keijiskitten​ for editing this!
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“Oh, come on, ‘Kaashi,” you said, setting your hand on your hip. You were standing around in the middle of the classroom with him and a few others, waiting for your professor to show up who was no doubt getting a coffee from the overflowing Starbucks down the street. Class would be half over before he finally arrived. “It’s just a few scary movies.”
“Sorry, _____. I have to study and I just know that trying to watch movies with you and study is gonna be a nightmare,” he said, giving you a sympathetic look. “And give me nightmares.”
You rolled your eyes and looked around to Bokuto, who was scrolling through his phone while he chatted with Yaku about the next practice. That was a hard no. Poor Bo would agree without complaint and wind up with nightmares for a week, clinging to you throughout the night. Catching Akaashi’s eye, you exchanged knowing looks and chuckles.
“Hey, _____,” Semi said from your other side. He was busy filling out a music sheet with notes for his next possible song, and the way he said your name indicated he was more focused on that than your quandary.
Still, you turned to look at him over your shoulder, quirking your eyebrow at him. When he didn’t immediately continue, you prompted him. “What’s up?”
“Oh, right,” he said, looking up from the paper. He gave you a small smile and tapped the tip of his pencil on the desk in a smooth rhythm, leaving small marks all over the surface. “You should see if Tendo wants to join you. He’s really into horror movies too.”
“Um, who?”
Semi’s eyes widened in surprise and he pointed over his shoulder. You could hear Akaashi snicker from your other side. The chair on Semi’s other side tipped back on its back legs, and a man with close-cut red hair peeked around his back, waving cheekily at you.
“Hi, name’s Tendo Satori. I’ve only been hanging around you for about two weeks now,” he said and, though he sounded lighthearted and jovial about it, you could see the way his eyes remained narrowed, scrutinizing you. And he didn’t look impressed.
You flushed bright red, realizing you did know him but had never committed his name to memory. Mostly because he hadn’t ever really said anything to you or seemed interested in you at all. 
“I-- well, I’m sorry,” you offered awkwardly. But you meant it, at least. You felt a bit bad now that he was in your face. Trying to lighten the mood, you joked, “I’m _____ _____ and my brain space is committed to horror movies and studying. No space for names I’m afraid.”
Semi rolled his eyes and Akaashi heaved a long-suffering sigh, covering his eyes with his hand, but Tendo laughed at your stupid joke. His eyes eased up, his smile relaxing, and he now looked genuinely interested. 
“A horror movie marathon, huh? I’m interested. Why don’t you tell me more?”
--
Tendo didn’t actually expect it to go his way. As with most other people, he was sure you were just faking your enthusiasm and would flake out once you were free of him. 
And yet when lunch rolled around and your group of friends were standing in the breezeway, shivering as you tried to pick out some place to go and eat off campus, you fell into step beside him.
“I really am sorry for not knowing who you were,” you offered, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and slipping a pair of gloves on. “Could we, maybe--”
He cut you off, grinning. “Forgiven and forgotten, _____.”
Hesitantly, you smiled back. He was strange, to be sure. Even though you hadn’t really had a true conversation with him yet, you got the feeling he was different, eccentric and unpredictable maybe. The way he harassed the shit out of Semi and some of the others was hysterical, though. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was that made you feel that way, but it wasn’t bad. You were even a little curious.
“Okay cool. So if, by chance, we were to do this movie marathon, how would you feel about cannibals?” you asked, tapping your chin thoughtfully. It was a theme you had been thinking about for a while, but none of your friends were into horror movies much, let alone a dozen or so movies centered around such a gory theme.
Tendo clicked his tongue and you heard a strange clink. “Hypothetically, right?”
“Right,” you said, your eyes zeroed in on his mouth, waiting for him to speak again.
He hummed, his lips curling in thought and his eyes narrowing as he stared off in the distance. Second in height only to Bokuto, he towered over everyone even though the two of you walked together at the back of the group. Speaking of Bokuto, you could hear him over the chatter of the other students around you, talking about the diner just a block away from the school and guessed that that was where you were going. 
Then he shrugged. “That sounds rad. What’re you thinking? Hypothetically.”
“Well, obviously gotta go with The Hills Have Eyes. I mean, it’s a classic. And then of course Wrong Turn because there’s so many of those. And, uh…that’s all I have, but that’s literally like 8 movies and if we get past those I don’t know what we’ll do,” you said, weaving through the throngs of people on the sidewalk. You had forgotten you had been trying to see what was in his mouth just a few minutes ago as you avoided toes. You could see the diner sign up ahead, reading “Newly Opened” and a list of menu items, but it was otherwise obscured from your view.
A gasp from Tendo startled you and you whipped around to look at him, only to find him staring at you in disbelief.
He had to fight the laugh in his chest from coming up at the wide-eyed, freaked out look on your face as he said, “I cannot believe you’ve forgotten the most classic of classic cannibal movies, _____. How could you forget The Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies?”
Relief mingled with amusement on your face when you realized what he was getting at, and you covered your mouth as you laughed. Putting on your best ashamed expression, you closed your eyes. “I can’t believe I forgot those. I’m such a fake fan.”
“Kicked out of the club for sure,” he said, holding the door open for you. The bustle of the diner drowned out anything more Tendo said as you followed the others towards a large table in the back corner. After that, you were seated between Semi and Akaashi and the conversation was halted.
For the time being.
--
You didn’t bring up the marathon again, though you snagged Tendo’s number the day after you went to the diner. The conversation started out about movies and morphed into other topics like majors, highschools, how he knew Eita and how you had met Bokuto and Akaashi, amongst others. It left Tendo in a bit of confusion. The two of you kept up a steady stream of communication throughout the day, even sneaking in texts during classes that could net you extra work or pop quizzes. And yet never once was the marathon mentioned.
Part of him was bummed because he had kind of been looking forward to the movies, but the larger part of him was unsurprised. Something like that was way too intimate, and for someone like you to want to do something like that with a-- someone like him was too much to hope for. He was just happy that you weren’t avoiding him like most others did; he wasn’t going to ask for more.
Except he kind of did want more, and he didn’t want to feel that. The disappointment was already tangible on his tongue and he swallowed it down every time he saw you in the hall, chatting or laughing with someone else. It would ease slightly when you would turn to look in his direction, flashing a smile and waving as you passed by. In class, you started sitting beside him, Bokuto and Akaashi often following behind, and he found his small group of friends growing because of you. Bokuto was loud and brash and treated him like they were best friends, and Akaashi’s quiet demeanor reminded him a lot of Ushijima. Except he was maybe a little more expressive. 
You even started walking home with him, parting ways when you had to go in different directions with a soft smile and a shine in your eyes that he tried not to read too much into. He enjoyed those days, when no one else was around and he just talked. You even knew some of the manga he read, and he lost himself rambling about Jump. When he brought it up once, about how he talked too much, you shook your head frantically. 
“No, no, I don’t mind! It reminds me of Bokuto, to be honest. He can talk about anything and keep a conversation going so easily. I’m kinda jealous,” you said, giving him that satisfied smile again.
He tried to clamp down on the feelings, to keep a tight rein on the emotions that kept trying to pull his eyes in your direction anytime he heard your voice or drew his thoughts to you late at night.
Sighing, he rubbed his eyes, frustrated at the fact that he was thinking of you a-fuckin’-gain. Didn’t he have enough to worry about without wondering what you thought of him? He already knew. You weren’t interested. It was fine.
His phone dinged, the screen lighting up to reveal your name and a text.
You: ‘watcha up to?’ Tendo: ‘nm. studying and suffering. you?’ Y: ‘“studying” sksks what’re you doing tomorrow night by chance?’
Tendo’s heart stuttered in his chest and he groaned, barely resisting the urge to fling his phone out the frost covered window in front of him. For the love of god, could the universe stop fucking with him? Clicking his tongue, he considered telling you he was busy. It would be easiest, and save him the disappointment that was sure to accompany whatever you had planned.
But his fingers were traitorous and typed out exactly what he didn’t want to say. Or so he told himself.
T: ‘nothin. what’re you thinkin?’ Y: ‘well...i’m thinkin about cannibals’
Tendou snorted at that and watched the three little dots appear again.
Y: ‘and u’
He choked and slammed his phone down on the desk, wincing and immediately picking it back up to check the damage. No, no way, he wouldn’t look at it like that. It wasn’t like that. You were just inviting him for the movie marathon in a totally platonic way.
Another message came in.
Y: ‘and me’
You were actually trying to kill him.
--
He could think of nothing the next day but how much he was looking forward to that night. Once he had finally gotten his shit together enough to text you back, the kinks had been worked out. It was almost a no brainer that he would be spending the night. A movie marathon with twelve movies meant an all-nighter, if the two of you could pull it off. He would go home after classes, while away the few hours until around six o’clock, and then head to the address you had given him. 
Unfortunately, he didn’t see much of you that day. You shared no classes, and you had a class when he took lunch, so he ate with Semi and Bokuto that day. Instead you snuck texts to him when you could, mostly talking about how excited you were for that night. It didn’t help, somehow both fanning and soothing his inner turmoil.
“Why do you look like you’re gonna throw up?” Semi asked at last. Tendo was staring at his half-eaten chicken sandwich like it had mortally offended him, and he was curious. 
Tendo jumped, having forgotten the other two were even with him, and shook his head. “Uh, nothin’.”
But Bokuto snickered and leaned in to whisper to Semi, who was already suspicious of his short, clipped answer. Whether he actually wanted to whisper or not, Tendo wasn’t sure, but Bo sure as shit didn’t manage it. “Him and _____ are gonna watch movies tonight.”
Of course you had told Bokuto. And probably Akaashi too. He wondered if they had changed their minds and decided to join you when they found out. It put a rather annoying feeling in his chest, like someone was squeezing his heart.
The other two were still talking in a loud whisper, watching Tendo’s expression shift and flicker through a myriad of emotions. Bokuto was lost, but Semi could recognize them after so many years of knowing the moody red-head, and wanted to laugh. He was so good at hiding his negative emotions, but when it came to sadness or happiness, he was like an open book. And he was being pretty obvious right then.
“Wow, that’s pretty big, Tendo,” he said, watching his friend closely. Tendo flinched, shrinking into his hoodie, and Semi nodded to himself. “Don’t let yourself get so worked up. She wouldn’t ask if she didn’t want to.”
He knew where Tendo’s insecurities were coming from. A childhood fraught with bullies and fake friends and people pretending they wanted him around only to treat him like a freak. Even through highschool it was that way, with a particularly nasty incident involving a girl pretending to want to date him that ended with Tendo refusing to come to school for almost a week. After that, he kept to himself and the volleyball club, refusing to even acknowledge that anyone else might actually want to get to know him seriously.
It had gotten a bit easier when he left Shiratorizawa and those memories and most of those people behind. Growing up with them was what had made it hardest, so surrounding himself with fresh people who didn’t have any preconceived notions and rumors about him had allowed him to open up a little. Even Ushijima, across the ocean in California, noticed a marked difference in Tendo’s demeanor.
Semi just hoped you didn’t do anything to send him spiralling back into his insecurities.
“Yeah, I guess.” 
It was easy for Semi to say that, but he had no idea what it was like, constantly worrying if people were being serious or if they were just waiting to pull the rug out from under him. Even now, he was fighting with himself to just get through the day, waiting constantly for you to change your mind and cancel the plans. Every time his phone lit up with your name, he expected it.
And yet, even after his classes ended and he arrived home, you didn’t. Just commenting that you would be MIA for a while while you cleaned the apartment and went to the store. And when you came back a few hours later, while he was binging Buzzfeed Unsolved videos, his heart leapt into his throat, but you were only telling him what you had gotten for him and to pick up anything else he might want on the way over.
The time couldn’t pass by fast enough while he busied himself packing as slowly as he could. He was already wearing sweatpants but brought a pair of basketball shorts just in case. A clean t-shirt and the other essential items he would need for the night went into a backpack, and when that was done he decided it was a good time to leave.
Unable to help himself, he sent you a text before he left, interrupting whatever you were already typing, the three little bubbles disappearing for a moment while you read his text.
T: ‘you sure you’re alright with this? i don’t have to come over’ Y: ‘?’ Y: ‘do u not want to!’ Y: ‘?*’ Y: ‘we can do this another time if you want’
He was typing before he could really think about the possibility that that might be the best option, his heart thumping harder than he liked in his chest, and he willed himself to take a deep breath. It was just two friends hanging out, watching horror movies together. Nothing more.
T: ‘no i do. was just making sure you were still ok w it.’ T: ‘leaving now to get snacks. your choices s u c k’ Y: ofc hurry up and get over here Y: ‘tf rude’
Locking the door behind him, he slung his bag onto his shoulder and sighed, hoping the night didn’t end as badly as his nerves were telling him it would.
--
Your doorbell rang an hour later, while you were in the middle of setting up your room for the binge. You were hoping he wouldn’t mind, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. It was hard to miss the nervousness and the way he seemed to shy away from you sometimes, especially when you did certain things like reach out to pull something off his hoodie or read something over his shoulder. But you wanted this to be as normal as possible, to prove to him you were genuine.
You liked Tendo. A lot. 
He was funny and sweet and just as eccentric as you had expected. His jokes were off-color but not offensive, just sarcastic and witty and you giggled every time. The way his face lit up when he heard you sent your heart into a frenzy, and the way it fell and he seemed to shrink into himself a moment later hurt. It didn't feel like a rejection of you but instead a rejection of himself and you wondered if there was any way to help him understand that you didn’t want anything from him but for him to be himself.
Upon opening the door, you found it was only the pizza delivery man, and you smiled with disappointment, until you spotted a shaved red-head coming up behind him.
Tendo gulped when he spotted you in your open doorway, wearing woolen leggings and a t-shirt, exchanging a box of pizza for cash and smiling brightly at him over the man’s shoulder. Waving, he waited until the stranger was out of the way before he approached you.
“Hey,” he greeted, peering down at you before scanning the empty living room of your apartment over your head.
You were unsurprised to see the wariness in his eyes, bleeding into the smile he was forcing on his face. It was your first time seeing a look so fake on him and for the first time you wondered if this was really a good idea. But it was only movies. And you liked Tendo. It would be fine.
So you smiled and ushered him in with one hand, the box perched precariously on your other, and watched him shrink into himself like he always did when he came within touching distance of you until he had passed into the living room. Then he just stood there, peering around with that same suspicious look, eyes narrowed and mouth turned down at the corners.
“So, what do you think?” you asked, pretending you hadn’t seen it as you moved into the kitchen. 
“It’s nice,” he answered, letting his bag hit the floor with a thump. The rest of the apartment was silent save for the heater going, and little by little he felt himself relaxing. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for little ol’ me, y’know.”
You giggled at the way he pointed at himself, wearing a cheesy grin as he walked into the kitchen. “Maybe not, but it’s been ages since I’ve been able to do anything like this. It’s as much for me as it is for you.” You punctuated your statement by poking him lightly in the chest, and he feigned pain.
“You wound me. And here I thought you were treating me special,” he moaned, leaning back against the counter and placing his hand over his forehead. He grinned a little hearing you giggle again, and then the pizza box hit his arm.
“I am treating you special, you goof,” you said, opening it up and letting the smell of cheese fill the kitchen. “With pizza. But I think we’d better take it into the bedroom, since that’s where we’ll be watching the movies. Just in case we fall asleep, you know,” you tacked on at the end, suddenly realizing how that might sound. Not that it meant anything, but again, you feared making him uncomfortable.
Absorbed in your thoughts, you missed the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks, clashing marvelously with his vibrant hair. You carried the box down to your bedroom with Tendo on your heels, eager to see your room. It was about what he expected from you-- a messy bed, a cluttered desk, clothes half in your laundry basket and half on the floor surrounding it. The TV sitting on your dresser was already set up with The Hills Have Eyes menu playing, volume muted. You set the box on the bed before smoothing the covers and crawling on.
Tendo hovered in the middle of your room, casting his eyes around nervously, looking for a chair or something to sit on. He definitely did not want to assume, but you patted the bed beside you, giving him a quizzical look.
“I’m not gonna bite, Tendo. Promise,” you said, and though you made it sound like a joke he could hear a line of seriousness at the core. Running his tongue over the back of his teeth, he walked slowly towards you, giving you every opportunity to change your mind, but you just looked impatient until he climbed on beside you. “Alright, now let’s get this started!”
--
Two movies in and the two of you had gotten pretty comfortable. Both of you had stretched out on the bed, but you had decided to lean up against the headboard with your pillows to support you while Tendo had opted to lay on his stomach with his head resting on his arms by your feet.
“Would you stop?” he laughed, pushing your foot away where it had been tapping incessantly at his shoulder. You were just doing it to annoy him, and you giggled at the irritated amusement in his voice.
The pizza box sat empty on the floor by the bed, but you found yourself craving something else to eat. When you hummed, Tendo looked away from the screen, rolling onto his side and propping his chin in his hand to watch you nibble at your lip. It was cute, he couldn’t lie, and the anxiety he had repressed by getting distracted by the movie came back slowly.
“What’s up?”
“I’m thinkin’ about...those chips,” you answered, and made to get up. You had to crawl over his long legs and almost fell off the bed as you gracelessly made your move, knee slipping off the small space between his leg and the edge of the mattress. Sticking your tongue out as he laughed at you, you pranced towards the door. 
“Bring my bags too, would you?” he called, pausing the movie since you had forgotten. It had just started, and you were lucky that he was nice enough to do it, especially when he heard your voice carry back down the hallway.
“Kiss my ass, Tendo.”
He laughed at that, loud enough that you could hear it from the kitchen and over the crinkling of the bags as you rifled through them. In the end, you shrugged and carried them all back down to your room, along with a few drinks. Maybe you wouldn’t have to get up again for a little while.
You shivered when you stepped back into the room. It wasn’t much warmer than the rest of the house, and now your arms and toes were cold. The heater was already set as high as it would go and hardly touched the chill, and you cursed the cheap piece of crap. 
“What, you cold?” he asked, pulling out a bag of the chips he had brought with him. The tab on a can of soda popped and he cursed as it fizzed over onto your blanket. “Shit, sorry.”
“No worries. Yeah, kinda. But the heater is already on full blast. Ugh,” you said, sitting beside him on the bed again. He was still wearing his hoodie, and up close he was warm, making you realize just how cold you were. You were just gonna have to crawl under your blankets because you would never survive the cold like that. “Wait…”
There was a tent on the screen where the movie had paused, and Tendo looked back and forth from it to you with curiosity. There was a calculating look on your face and he wasn’t sure he liked it. “Uh, what?”
There was no way he would agree to it. Way too intimate, right? But it really seemed like it’d be right up his alley, and it would be fun to build, and it would get you warm. It was the perfect idea really.
“Tendo, how do you feel about making...a pillow fort?”
The heater continued to buzz in the corner, overlaid by the slight static from the TV, while Tendo processed your question. His mouth had fallen open, brows furrowed while he stared at you in what could only be surprise, and you laughed nervously.
“Wha-- Seriously?”
“Um, you know what, nevermind. I guess it was a stupid idea. It just seemed like it might be fun and--”
He cut your babbling off with an excited wave of his arms, leaning forward into your space and in the light from the TV you could see a childlike happiness glowing in his eyes. “I’ve never made one but it sounds like fun. You know how to do it?”
Stunned by the turn of events, you nodded. “Well, sort of. Mine have always fallen down after a while though,” you admitted, standing up from the bed again. “We need chairs and books and all the blankets and pillows we can find. And the couch cushions. Probably.”
In no time flat you had everything gathered, with Tendou hovering around waiting for you to direct him. It was a pain to get everything set up, and you ended up using the bed since you didn’t have enough chairs. Moving the chairs all over the place until there was enough room inside and you could put the books down to seal the ‘walls’ was tedious, but it was worth it when Tendo crawled in to set up the cushions to seal the space beneath the bed. After padding the floor with several blankets to lay on, you stuffed the pillows from your bed in after Tendo. When you didn’t immediately crawl in after him, he poked his head out to see what you were doing.
“Well, we didn’t think this through at all, so now we gotta watch the movies on my laptop,” you said as you ejected the DVD from your player. The jingle of your computer booting up played and backlit your face in the glow, and you prayed it wasn’t going to go right into an update. It took a few minutes to start up, so you passed it to him while you plugged the power cord in and ran it into the fort. 
You could hear the clicking of the mousepad and by the time you flipped off the light and crawled in beside Tendo, the movie menu was playing. You also realized just how cramped it really was with Tendo’s lanky form inside. There was just enough space for both of you, but you were going to have to either sit up with it in your lap or you were going to have to set it to the side of you and lay on your sides.
He was tense, staring determinedly at the movie playing and trying to avoid moving too much. Or so you guessed, anyway. Anytime you so much as shifted he would jerk away before relaxing, and you were a split second away from nixing the idea. A part of you was starting to wonder if it wasn’t you that was the problem, but if it was, why had he bothered to agree?
“You’re really warm, Tendo,” you said, trying to break the ice. It was an awkward and clumsy attempt, but maybe you could help him settle down if you showed him you weren’t uncomfortable first?
But that just made him pull further away, leaning against the couch cushions. “Oh, sorry.”
It was already warm and comfortable in your little fort, a light blanket thrown over your knees and warming your toes. And with him beside you, you were actually a little more than comfortable. “No,” you said, waving your hands frantically, “no, like, it’s nice. I’m finally warm.”
It was hard to tell in the washed out light of the laptop, but Tendo’s face turned a very bright shade of pink. He tugged the neck of his hoodie up over his nose and fixed his eyes firmly on the flickering violence, annoyed that he was overwhelmed by something so simple. Why did you have to be so damn cute?
But it did the trick, even if he didn’t know that was your intention. He finally relaxed and stopped flinching every time you shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. Sitting cross legged only worked for so long and Tendo noticed you moving around after a while, when your knee knocked his for the third or fourth time.
“You alright? You’re about to bring the whole fort down,” he commented around a mouthful of chips.
“Ah, well, my back is starting to hurt sitting up, I guess. I wanna lay down,” you said, sounding whinier than you meant to, following it up with a short stretch. It alleviated the pain for a moment, until you hunched over again.
He swallowed his chips and returned his eyes to the TV screen, thinking. On one hand, he wasn’t exactly comfortable. On the other, he had no idea what you were thinking. Did you want to abandon the fort?
But you didn’t say anything, fiddling with the blanket for a few moments as you tried to work up your courage. You damn sure didn’t want to tear down your fort-- it had taken you way too long to put the stupid thing up-- and if you said the idea of cuddling up with Tendo wasn’t appealing, you would surely go to hell for lying. The underlying problem was him. What would he say if you brought up the obvious solution?
You were taking too long to answer, so Tendo prompted you, pausing the movie. “Do you want to just get back on the bed again?”
“No,” you said, and then flinched. You had answered way too quickly and that somehow made him nervous and reassured at the same time. “This is really nice I just…I-know-that-you’re-kind-of-uncomfortable-and-I-don’t-want-to-make-you-more-uncomfortable.”
Tendou stared at you, unblinking as he tried to decipher your breathlessly rushed words. After a moment he laughed, still confused, but he could see the anxiety on your face. “I-- what? All I heard was uncomfortable, I think. But you don’t make me uncomfortable.”
Your heart thumped painfully in your chest as that weight left your shoulders. He was so intuitive it was almost scary. Even still, you had to make sure. “Oh, really? You always seem like...weird around me, I guess. I was starting to think I was pushing too hard, I guess?”
“Sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his head. His elbow brushed the sheet above you and he quickly dropped it. “I’m used to people being uncomfortable around me. Guess it just turned into a habit to avoid people I don’t know. So that I don’t freak them out.”
Not entirely true, given that he enjoyed messing with people, but it was true in your* case. It took you a moment to answer, and he started to worry that he had said too much. 
“You don’t...make me uncomfortable, Tendo. You never did. You’re a weirdo but not...in a bad way,” you said, and glanced at him to gauge his reaction, worried he would take it in a negative light.
But he was smiling, eyes fixed on the paused movie and you bit your lip. He was way too attractive and you couldn’t fathom anyone who thought otherwise. Clearly they were just cowards.
“Well that’s a relief. It would make things pre-tty awkward right now if I did,” he said and bumped your shoulder. It felt like a whole planet was lifted off his shoulders with this revelation and he heaved a huge sigh. “So, if we don’t want to abandon the fort but our backs are about to crumble, what do we do?”
“Uh.” You blanched, having forgotten about that little hiccup. Your idea was embarrassing to think about let alone explain and if you hadn’t made him uncomfortable yet this was sure to.
“Uh,” he mocked, and twisted around like a snake so his face was in front of you, blocking the light from the screen. “Spit it out before we collapse.”
“Just-- um--” you stuttered, and he quickly realized whatever your idea was, it had you flustered. He was just about to start teasing when you picked up the laptop and set it to the side of you. Rolling over onto your side, you tucked your hand underneath your pillow and relaxed, feeling the pain immediately alleviate. “Now you lay down. If you want.”
Your heart was racing in your chest, waiting for him to do something. It was a long, long minute before he finally said anything, and it wasn’t what you expected. Not that you had any idea of what to expect.
“Uh, are you sure? I mean, we could just--” What was he thinking? This was exactly what he wanted and wasn’t it Semi who had said she wouldn’t ask if she didn’t want it? Did he really have to overthink everything? You were in a literal pillow fort watching scary movies with him, offering to let him cuddle up with you, and he still thought you weren’t sure.
“Well, unless you aren’t,” you said, and was that disappointment in your voice? No way.
“No no, no. I’m gonna take my hoodie off first, though. It’s way too warm in here now,” he said, backtracking quickly. Then again, maybe it was just him that was too hot. It was an actual dream come true, and he pinched himself quickly just to make sure he wasn’t asleep. 
You rolled over onto your back to watch him struggle, his arms brushing the ceiling and walls of your warm little haven as he fought the hoodie. Your eyes widened as it finally came free, seeing the colorful swirls of ink covering his arms. “Holy shit.”
“Wha--?” he said, and turned to find you staring open mouthed at his tattoos. “Oh, right, I guess you haven’t seen these before, huh?”
“Nope,” you said, sitting up and squinting to see the undefined shapes in the faint light. It was almost cute the way he held his arm out to you hesitantly, like a child offering you a drawing to examine and praise. Taking it, you traced the lines covering his smooth, warm skin, trying to figure out what they were. But the shapes were undefinable in the faint light. You could make out splashes of blue and purple, red and pink, separated by black lines or faded together to make something. Part of you wanted to ask, but there was something mysterious about not knowing. “I can’t even tell what they are but god, Tendou, I know they’re gorgeous.”
He shivered at your featherlight touches, the feel of your fingers skimming delicately over his skin, and your words caused fire to erupt in his stomach and chest. His tattoos were something he was extremely proud of, one of the few things he had that made him feel confident, and hearing you compliment them made him feel so fucking good. Chucking his jacket out into the room, he returned to your side and the two of you got comfortable.
Pressing play on the movie for the 3rd time, the two of you fell silent. With your head below his chin, it was the perfect position for him to see the screen over you. You could feel the warmth rolling off of him, only an inch of space between his chest and your back, and both of you were well aware of it.
It was nearly impossible to focus on the movie, trying to reign in the urge to just slide back a little bit and mold yourself to him. Nibbling at your lip, you rolled just a little under the pretense of stretching and bumped into him. Just your arm into his, and he didn’t move away.
“You good? Need more space? I can crawl under the bed if you want,” he said, smirking at you. He thought he knew what you were playing at, but your next words confirmed it. It was the oldest trick in the book and, even though no one had ever used it on him, he had seen it at work with Semi and Shirabu too many times.
“Just stretching. I’m still a bit cold though,” you said, facing the TV again.
Suppressing a snicker, knowing damn well that wasn’t what you were after, he offered, “I can get you another blanket, if you need it.”
The silhouette of your shoulders fell, and you couldn’t hide the sigh that accompanied it. “It’s alright, Tendo. It’s not that bad.”
You really should have seen that coming, you guessed. The swell of hope and the crash of disappointment was painful in your chest, and you tried to focus on the movie again, ignoring the tempting warmth at your back. If he wasn’t interested, he wasn’t interested. It was cool.
Which was why you jumped when a weight settled over your side, a snicker filtering behind you as he molded himself to your back. It was slow, hesitant, and you would guess he was trying to make sure you were alright with it. Warmth seeped through your t-shirt and you sighed happily, shimmying back into him out of instinct, and this time you could feel his quiet laughter in his chest.
His arms were so long that he had to fold it in front of you, hand coming to rest just underneath your chin, and when you relaxed so did he. With his chin resting atop your head now, he asked, “Better? This is what you wanted, right?”
“Shut up,” you whined, hiding your face in your hand. It was embarrassing enough without him having to tease you about it. But you supposed it wouldn’t be Tendo if he didn’t make fun of you for everything. It was so easy after that to focus on the movie, now that you had gotten what you wanted. The snacks lay forgotten near your feet, not wanting to move and mess up the delicate balance that was now between the two of you.
It was tenuous and any small movement from either of you could send it toppling in either direction, and you weren’t even sure what it depended on. You knew for sure which way you would like to see it go, but it was just as comfortable the way it was.
Silence fell again until the movie ended, which was the only reason you moved. You could probably have fallen asleep like that, but you weren’t ready yet, wanting to bask in whatever you had with Tendo for a while longer.
When you sat up to change the next movie, Tendo rolled over onto his back, watching you fiddle around with it. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck and he shifted uncomfortably. Seemed you felt the same because you turned to look at him, an apology written on your face.
“Sorry, do you mind if I go change into shorts. It’s actually too warm for these now,” you said, setting the DVD case back on the pile. You felt like you were suffocating in your thick winter leggings now, but if he wasn’t okay with that then you would suffer a little longer. At least until you melted.
“Oh thank god you said something. I was about to die in these sweatpants, I swear,” he answered, fanning his face with his hand. You were pretty sure he was just exaggerating that though. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”
“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’, and crawled towards the escape flap, wincing at the sound of crunching and crinkling under your knees all of a sudden. “Oops.”
“Oh those had better not have been mine,” he whined, flashing the light of his phone towards the bag. He groaned, seeing his bag of doritos crushed. He could hear you snicker outside the sheet as you walked away and growled, “Watch it. Yours are still in here, _____.”
You opened a drawer as he finally came out as well and began rifling through his bag, pulling out the pair of shorts he’d packed. When you turned around with a pair of soft shorts in your hands, you found him standing awkwardly in the middle of your room again and laughed. “I’ll go change in the bathroom. I gotta use it anyway. I’ll be right back.”
Your footsteps receded down the hall and he raced to get changed before you came back. His sweats landed on his backpack and he shrugged at himself. What did it matter, so long as they weren’t on your floor?
The sound of the sink reached his ears just as he was climbing back into the fort, frowning at his crushed chips even as he shoved a handful into his mouth. He was so gonna make you pay for a new bag, especially because you had laughed. The door creaked open and the flap shifted, and he almost choked on his chips as he realized just how short your shorts were. Were your legs always that long? And smooth? And pretty? Shit.
“How are your chip fragments?” you joked as you made yourself comfortable beside him again. Your hair fanned out behind you and you gathered it up off the base of your neck, twisting it around so that it spread out above you instead. How the fuck was the back of your neck sexy*? 
He was so screwed.
“Uh,” he replied. Smooth, Satori. Shaking his head, he tried to gather his thoughts and focus them literally anywhere else. It worked. Sort of. “Pointy. You owe me a new bag.”
You scoffed, smiling at the car full of vacationing teenagers on the laptop. “There’s like four other bags in here. Quit whining.”
But he wasn’t giving it up, throwing his bag into the corner and hopefully out of the way of your carelessness. Settling behind you like he had before, he once again left space between you, afraid now of how his body might react if he didn’t. “No, all of them suck.”
You definitely noticed the gap and wondered if he was just waiting for you to take the initiative, so you did. Before he could blink, you were once again molded to his chest, head tucked under his chin and knees folded around his. He tensed, fingers curling into a fist while he willed himself to chill.
His arm came down around you again, but you could feel how stiff he was. When you made to move forward again, to give him space, his arm locked, even pulling you back again and you grinned. With his arm now lit up properly by the light of the laptop, you realized you could see the tattoos more clearly, and began to trace the stars and fish on his arm.
“Aren’t these the spirit fish from Avatar?” you asked, skimming over the white and black koi. It was a watercolor piece, lacking the heavy lines like the ones on his other arm, and you felt him nod against the top of your head. “They’re gorgeous. Who’s your artist?”
“A friend of mine in Miyagi did those,” he answered, watching you continue to trail up his arms. Goosebumps were raising the fine hairs all over his body, your touches so gentle and intimate, your focus rapt. Higher up near his elbow was what appeared to be two jolly rogers, but they weren’t the normal ones. “Those are from a pirate manga I read in Jump,” he said before you could ask, and you smoothed your hand over them before sliding it back up near his hand.
His heart skipped a beat when your fingers curled into his palm, hesitating before you slipped them between his. He was sure you could feel his heart pounding away in his chest, unaware that you couldn’t because yours was racing fast enough that you were lightheaded. Folding his fingers down over your hand locked them together, but you didn’t try to pull away. If anything, you tried to cuddle up closer to him, dragging your hands so that they were pressed to your chest. It was the most intimate thing he had experienced in recent memory and if his heart didn’t slow down it was going to explode.
The movie wasn’t holding his interest and a new question cropped up in his mind, one he had wondered more than once before tonight and he couldn’t figure out why he thought of it now, but he latched onto it because otherwise he really thought he was going to combust. Besides, it would ease some of his insecurity if he got an answer.
“What took you so long to set this up, anyway? I kind of thought you had changed your mind for a while,” he said, staring at the screen. He was sort of taking it in, an anchor point so he didn’t get lost in his thoughts.
Your chest rumbled against his hand when you hummed, and your answer was so mundane and rational that he almost laughed. “Well a part of it was wanting to get to know you a bit before we did this. Didn’t want to invite a total stranger to spend the night, after all. And then it was just a matter of waiting for my roommates to freakin’ leave.”
“Oh, are your roommates actually gone*?” he asked in surprise. He had thought they were just out for the night and would be home-- probably not soon, given the time, but still. “Like, for the weekend?”
You hummed again in agreement, twirling the ends of your hair absently around your fingers. You were locked onto the movie, absorbed as Leatherface chased one of the characters he didn’t care about through the yard. He fell quiet, thinking you wanted to watch uninterrupted, but then you asked, “That’s alright, right? They would have just wanted to join in otherwise and they can’t stand horror movies either, so they would’ve just talked through it.”
Exactly like he was doing, he realized, and his face grew hot. Hopefully he hadn’t already annoyed you. He nodded, responding in a much quieter voice. “It’s fine. Was just surprised, I guess.”
For a while, neither of you said anything and Tendo managed to focus on the movie, feeling you jump and twitch every once in a while at scares you weren’t expecting. Unfortunately, those movements were brushing against areas that he really didn’t need them too and your shorts did nothing to diminish the curve of your ass against him or the slowly growing hard on he was getting. It didn’t help that every time he shifted even a little you would just follow him, as if he wasn’t pinned by your hand holding his.
But shit, if he didn’t move soon he was going to be screwed. The bathroom-- that would get him out of there before he embarrassed the fuck out of himself.
It was too late, though. You flinched and ground your ass back into him and he groaned before he could help it. You froze, he froze, he just really wanted to die.
“I-- Sorry. I’m really sorry,” he said, tugging at his hand to try and escape. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but the best option was probably to leave and transfer to a school in a whole different country. He could already hear your words now, an echo of so many times before, the sting of disappointment a familiar feeling around his heart.
“I’m sorry, Tendo. I just don’t see you that way.”
It was because he was a freak with a weird name and creepy eyes and-- fuck. It was high school all over again, being rejected by someone he genuinely thought liked him only to find out they were using him to get to Ushijima or pretending to as a fucking joke, only this time Ushijima wasn’t around and he had really gotten himself into it by agreeing to any of this.
But you were refusing to let his hand go, holding so tight he thought his fingers might break, saying his name until he came back down from his panicked high.
“Tendo, Tendo, calm down, please,” you were begging. You had rolled onto your back, unable to sit up because you were using both your hands to keep him from jumping up and taking the whole fort down. You could see it on his face when he finally heard you, wide vermillion eyes locking with yours while his heart continued to race.
He remained propped up on his elbow, ready to run at the first opportunity, and you almost felt bad for antagonizing him as much as you had. If you had known your teasing was going to get him this riled up, you would have tried a different tactic-- or not tried it at all. Maybe you had pushed too far too soon, and the skittish look in his pretty eyes worried you that you had ruined it.
“It’s alright, Tendo,” you said, trying to keep your voice quiet and soothing. It felt an awful lot like you were dealing with a wary animal-- like a coyote or a fox. When the insistent tension in his arm faded is when you relaxed your death grip on his fingers. 
The sound of the movie was too loud in the unnatural silence between you, and you rolled over to turn it down. When it was only a background buzz, you turned back to him. He was still staring at you without blinking, his eyes devoid of the panic from earlier but now they were eerily blank.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, deadpan. He flinched when you took his hand again, forehead scrunching in confusion. “I don’t understand. There’s no way you-- What are you doing?”
It was your turn to be confused, pursing your lips at him. He sounded so lost-- and wary again-- like a child. For the first time, you wondered what his childhood had actually been like. He talked an awful lot about Ushiwaka and Semi, and the volleyball club in general, but you heard nothing outside of that. It made you suspicious now.
“What am I doing?” you parroted, finally sitting up. Your joined hands fell into your lap and you stared down at them, petting the back of his hand with your free one. “Do you not want me to?”
His words were stuck in his throat, trapped by the lump there, and he swallowed thickly. His mouth felt like cotton, and he shook his head, croaking out, “It isn’t that. I just don’t understand why.”
“Why what?” you asked, gentle amusement in your voice. There was no teasing, no malicious undertones that he could hear, like you were waiting to spring the final part of the joke on him. And he was listening for it. After years of dealing with it, he had learned to recognize it in people’s words and on their faces. The way their lips would curl and their eyes would narrow just before cruelty would spew from their mouths, he knew the tells and you--
Had none.
There was nothing but open curiosity and nervousness-- and hope. A lot of hope swirled in your eyes and he swallowed again. He was just going to disappoint you. If not tonight then tomorrow, if not tomorrow then next week. It was going to happen--
“Why do you like me? How do you like me? I’m-- weird. And you’re--” He gestured frantically up and down at all of you. You weren’t anything he was-- a freak. With freaky eyes and a freaky name and a freaky personality.
“I-- um,” you said, and you couldn’t help but smile. There was clearly a lot of baggage with him, and his questions made that obvious. It was likely too much to unpack tonight, especially when you were still only just getting to know each other. Reassurance was what he needed, and that was something you could offer on the spot. “You’re funny...and sweet and...very good looking. Your eyes are so pretty. Um, there’s also the fact that you’re the only person who would watch these movies with me, which earns you a lot of points, in my opinion,” you said, tapping your lips as you stared up at the ceiling.
Your face was on fire as you listed things off the top of your head, your throat tight with anxiety as you wondered what he would say in response. They were all surface level things for now, but you knew underneath the armor that there was a lot more to Tendo, and you hoped you had a chance to discover it.
He groaned low in his throat, not from disgust but from a deep seated need to believe you meant those things. His forehead met your shoulder, his fingers squeezing yours. He didn’t fight it when you eased back down, following after you without a word, leaving his face hidden in your neck. He was still trying to gather his thoughts and calm his overworked heart. It would be so easy to reject you and be on his way, to return home and beat himself up for letting himself get too close and too comfortable with you when he knew nothing would come of it.
Except something had come of it and he wasn’t sure what to do now. Semi and Ushijima always told him he was too closed off and that someone was going to come around who actually liked him and his ‘weird ass’ and that he was going to lose that chance because of some stupid high school assholes. Was he though? He wanted to believe you, wanted to trust you, and slowly he relaxed, his stress leaving him in a long, tired exhale.
“You mean it?” he whispered against your neck, and you could feel his lashes tickle your skin when he blinked. His arm was heavy where his hand rested on your stomach, fingers intertwined with yours, and you squeezed his hand as tight as you could.
“I do. I like you and really want a chance to get to know you better,” you whispered back, and it suddenly felt like no one existed but the two of you, protected from everything in the world outside by a few sheets and each other's warmth. There would be things to discuss and hiccups to overcome, but you could worry about those tomorrow. In that moment, all you wanted was to prove to Tendo you wanted him.
Maybe it was your words, whispered softly into the dark, or your hand gripping his for dear life, or the way you let him cling to you like a lifeline, or maybe it was a combination, but when he pulled back from his hiding place and found you staring at him, he slotted his lips against yours without thinking. Your lips parted almost immediately, free hand sliding out from between your bodies to tangle in the close cropped hair at the nape of his neck and you used it to pull yourself closer. 
When your tongue poked out to glide across the seam of his lips, he let you in on a breath, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. His eyes were squeezed shut tight as your tongue met his, praying that what was happening wasn’t a dream, and he wasn’t expecting it when you gasped and pulled away all of a sudden.
His eyes popped open and he stared down at you with panic. “What? Did I do something wrong?”
“I-- forgot you have a tongue ring,” you said, and the laughed. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
He blinked like an owl, eyes wide as he processed your words. It wasn’t something that he had ever expected to hear in his life, let alone from the girl he was half-making out with in a freakin’ pillow fort. He suddenly wondered if his life had turned into a Shounen Jump manga.
“Well, so are you,” he said, and leaned in for another kiss.
It was kind of hot to see him confident and you felt heat pool in your stomach, starting to bleed further down as his tongue slipped into your mouth again. He tasted like the root beer he had been drinking all night, and you couldn’t resist toying with the piercing, swirling your tongue around it and listening to him moan against your mouth. 
Your shirt had ridden up your stomach as you moved around, trying to get closer to him, and neither of you realized it until Tendo’s hand smoothed over your skin. He froze mid-kiss, waiting for your reaction, and was unsurprised when your hand grabbed his.
What he didn’t expect was for you to guide it upwards, letting go when you hit your ribs to cup his cheek. Pulling back just enough that he could speak against your lips, he asked, “Are you sure?”
“Frankly, Tendo,” you said, and kissed him again before you continued, “I haven’t wanted anyone this bad in forever. Even if we wake up tomorrow and change our minds, I am fucking sure right now.”
He groaned, letting his hand hike your shirt up a little higher until his hand cupped under your breast. He wasn’t sure when you had taken your bra off, or maybe you hadn’t been wearing one the whole time, but there was nothing impeding his skin from caressing yours. Your breast was so soft in his hand, topped by a pretty pink nipple that he couldn’t resist pinching. You mewled underneath him, pulling your shirt up to uncover your other breast and he moved to that one, doing the same and feeling your nipple harden at his touch.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he rasped, gazing down the length of your body. Your thighs were clenched, and his hand migrated lower, fingertips skimming over your skin.
The heat that was pooling earlier erupted when they met the waistband of your shorts, but he paused, looking unsure again.
“Tendo, I’ll show you how much I want this,” you whispered and grabbed his hand. He was still hesitant, looking at your face as you slid his hand into your panties, and his eyes widened.
“You’re so wet,” he groaned, his fingers gliding over your soaked lips, spreading your slick all over them. His fingers quickly found your clit, circling it and you squeezed his hand between your thighs, hips jerking. “All because of me? I’m flattered.”
Teasing at your soaked opening, he waited for you to balk but you only twitched, panting against his lips before he sunk one finger in, your walls parting easily. You moaned and he swallowed it in a kiss, his tongue filling your mouth again. It wasn’t long before he was fitting a second finger, crooking them up and grazing your sweet spot, his thumb taking over massaging your clit as he pumped them inside you. Your arousal was already high enough that you could feel your orgasm coming on, and you pulled away to announce it.
“T-Tendo, gonna--” You gasped when he forced them in deeper, a mischievous smirk on his face as he prodded your cervix. “How-- fuck, your fingers are so long,” you whined, toes curling.
“Think you can take one more?” he asked, already fitting the tip of a third finger in. But it was only when you nodded, tears pricking the corners of your eyes that he slipped it in. Your teeth dug into your lip before they parted in a soundless cry.
The coil snapped on the first thrust and he groaned, drinking in your face as he tipped you over the edge. No one had ever cum so prettily for him before and he wanted to see it again. 
But only if you wanted it. His cock throbbed painfully in his shorts when he pulled his fingers from your twitching hole, feeling you shudder against him. Examining his glistening fingers in the screen light, he slid one experimentally into his mouth and moaned. “You taste so good, princess.”
You gasped at the pet name, a warmth unrelated to the one between your legs blooming in your chest. He said it was such reverence that you flushed, hoping he’d say it again at some point. Never had anyone called you that before, at least in that context.
When he laid back down beside you, his erection brushed against your leg and he stifled a groan. He was wearing boxers but the friction against his cock was still a pleasurable sensation. Not as much as your hand might be--
Speaking of hands, he nearly jumped out of his skin when you cupped him, squeezing and kneading up the length of him confined in his clothes. A shaky breath ripped out of him, the result of him barely containing a moan, and his long fingers wrapped around your wrist to stop you.
“That’s alright, _____. You don’t have to--” But you weren’t listening and the pressure felt too good. His head fell back, eyes fluttering closed, content to let you literally massage his dick until you started tugging at his shorts. He stopped you more insistently then, pulling your hand away. “Wait a second. Let me get ‘em off since you’re so eager, princess.”
He pulled his shirt over his head first, because it was getting way too hot in there anyway, and then kicked his shorts and boxers off into the dark corner. His cock bobbed against his stomach as he rolled onto his side again, leaking precum already. 
Your hand was soft against his stomach, roaming over the hard planes of his abs and down further, until it wrapped lightly around his head.
And froze.
“What the-- Tendo, what are those?” you asked in a high pitched, startled tone. Before he could answer, you let go and rolled onto your back, exposing him to the light and you thought for sure you had died and gone to heaven. 
It wasn’t just his arms that were covered in ink. His shoulders, chest, and sides were all covered in it as well, swirls and splashes of color interrupted by splotches of black or white or skin. You could hardly make out what the images were in the flickering, inconsistent light, but you recognized flowers and circles, and on his pec you were pretty sure there was a scene of a lake bathed in moonlight. And as your eyes followed the path of colors down, you landed on the thing that had startled you in the first place.
“Those are--” you breathed, taking his cock into your hand again. There was a ball at the tip, covered in precum, and you knew if you traced down, you would find another just below the crown. Further down on his shaft were five horizontal barbells in a row, and you recognized it as a Jacob’s Ladder. “Fuck me.”
“Gladly,” Tendo quipped and pounced. He settled between your legs and tugged your shorts down over your hips, and you had to hold your legs up to let him pull them the rest of the way off. He was too tall to sit straight up without brushing his head against the ceiling, but he braced back on his arms when you grabbed his shaft again. He groaned when you fondled the ball below his crown, shuddering at the intense pleasure. It was one of the major reasons he’d gotten it- to enhance the sensations. But the feel of your fingers gliding over his tip, gathering the precum and nudging the ball was something else entirely. “Holy shit, that feels amazing.”
His voice sent shivers through you, deep and raspy and way too needy. But you were unsure of what would hurt him, so you kept your touches light, feeling his thighs tense under yours, his fingers squeezing your calves as he let you explore. Before long though, he was pulling your hand away, pinning it down at your side. “Can’t keep that up, princess. I need more, if you’re alright with it,” he said, letting his cock settle against your cunt. 
The piercings were warm and pronounced against your folds, and you shuddered when the ball under his head grazed your clit. The thought of them inside you, rubbing all along your walls as he fucked you was too much and you could feel yourself growing wetter, your pussy drooling for it.
“Yes, Tendo, please. I want it, I want to feel them inside me,” you begged, rocking your hips. The stimulation was mind blowing and your walls clenched, empty and needy for him to fill you up. And he would, his cock was huge-- he still had room for more piercings below the ones he had. You had no doubt you would be stretching to take him and you keened in the back of your throat.
“I want you to call me Satori, princess. And I need you to let me know if it’s uncomfortable,” he said, pressing the tip of his cock into your sopping hole. “Sometimes they make it hurt, but you’re so fucking wet I don’t think it will. You really like these, huh?”
You were really just answering his question as you said yes, but a stream of them fell out of your mouth as he pushed the rest of his cock inside you, encouraging him to continue. The stretch was so good, your walls splitting easily for him, and you could feel every ball just like you had imagined grazing against your walls. The ball at his slit rested snugly against your cervix, and you didn’t even realize you were screaming as you came, hips jerking in his hands as he let you ride it out.
He was staring at you with what could only be awe, his mouth slack and eyes wide with surprise. “Holy fuck, princess, did you just cum?”
Your breaths were coming in pants as your mind spun, trying to come down from the unexpected high. It came on so suddenly you had no time to prepare, and tears slid down your cheeks. “F-Feels so good,” you whispered, fingers digging into the blanket beneath you. “Satori, oh my god.”
“Are you alright? We can stop--” he said, but you shook your head frantically, locking your ankles around his back, and he laughed under his breath. You sure were something else. He knew for a fact no one had ever come just from him sliding into them and a swell of pride filled his chest. “No? Alright, whatever you want, princess. Can I move?”
This time you nodded and he was slow as he pulled back, making sure you were okay. You were so tight around him from your orgasm, your walls fluttering with overstimulation, but your back arched when he stuffed himself back in, a breathy moan slipping out of you. Hiking your legs higher up on his hips, he bent over you, gathering your hands and pinning them above your head, lacing his fingers with yours. His lips met yours as he thrust into you slowly, grinding deep and stifling a moan. Once again you were playing with his tongue ring, flicking it as you suckled on his tongue. The fort-- and probably the room-- was filled with the wet slap of his hips on yours every time he drove his cock into you, drowning out the low buzz of the forgotten movie still playing. He was being careful, waiting for you to stop being so sensitive, and he knew you were ready when you arched into his chest and pulled away.
“So good, Satori,” you murmured against his lips, hips rising to meet his. Your eyes were glazed and fucked out, tears still flowing and you could already feel the start of another orgasm, but he was moving too slow. The drag and pull of his piercings had almost all of your attention, the ball at his tip constantly tapping your cervix, making your toes curl with every thrust. “You’re so big, and those-- fuck-- piercings feel so good inside me. I can feel them all everywhere.”
He snickered darkly at that and kissed your cheek. “You wanna feel even better, kitten?” he whispered into your ear, nipping the shell. He could feel you nod against his cheek, nails digging into his hands where he kept them pinned above your head, and then he was letting them go and pulling out of you. You whined, staring up at him in dismay, but he already had your thighs in his hands, prodding you to roll over. “Trust me, pretty girl. On your stomach, just like that.”
It was a bit difficult to get comfortable, but he grabbed a pillow and jammed it beneath your hips before settling with his legs outside of yours. And when you shook your ass, begging him to hurry up, he couldn’t deny you, not when he wanted to be back inside your tight heat so badly.
“Holyshitholyshitholyshit,” you whined, high-pitched and breathless as he finally filled you again. His thighs trembled as he forced himself not to just stuff himself into you, you were so tight. And the way you were crying and shuddering beneath him wasn’t helping, especially when you gasped his given name like a prayer. “*Satori, oh my god.”
If you thought those piercings felt good before, you were in heaven now. Everyone of them dragged slowly over the front wall of your cunt, grinding into your sweet spot and you had to bite the pillow to keep from outright screaming. And he was so, so, so big inside you, but with your legs trapped between his there was nothing you could do but take him. Against your will, your legs kicked, hitting him in the back as you wailed into the pillow, tears streaming down your cheeks in an endless flood. 
He snarled into your ear as he planted his elbows beside your head, plastering himself to your back. “You are so fucking tight, princess. How do those piercings feel now?”
“So good so good so good,” you babbled, circling your hips back on his dick to get any friction you could. The orgasm that had been building came back ten fold just from him hilting inside of you and you knew that if he fucked you like this you would be cumming in seconds. “‘Tori, please move, please please please.”
Your needy begging made his cock twitch and you whimpered as he slowly pulled out of you and pushed back in, intentionally slow to let you feel everything. The pleasure was ebbing and flowing, building and falling because he wasn’t moving fast enough, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to go faster, not when you could feel him so clearly. Every time he bottomed out, he made sure to grind down into you, nudging your cervix with the tip of his cock so he could feel you clench suddenly around him. It never failed to make him moan, your slick walls gripping him so tightly as he dragged himself back out. He wanted to make your pussy his new home and barring that he was going to fuck the shape of his cock into you.
“Tell me what you need to make you cum, princess,” he whispered into your ear. He knew what he needed, but he was still learning what would make you feel good. 
Releasing the pillow from your teeth, the first thing you did was moan out his name again as he buried himself inside you again. You were so close to cumming, your clit throbbing with need and if he even brushed it you were going to be gushing all over him. You gasped as he thrust a little harder than before.
“If you don’t answer me I’ll just keep going like this, kitten. I can go for hours, if you want,” he whispered, warm against your ear. That made you twitch underneath him, and he chuckled. “You like the sound of that? We’ll try it another time. Right now, I need you to tell me where you want me to cum and how I can make you cum, okay?”
His words were dark and sweet and coaxing, and you were sure you had never whined so much in your whole life. “Touch me, please, Satori. I wanna cum all over your cock and pretty piercings while you cum in me, oh fuck.”
Bracing himself on his elbow, he forced his hand beneath your stomach, aided by you lifting your hips, and you whimpered when he finally, finally brushed your clit. It was all it took and you had to bite the pillow again as you creamed all over his cock, whiting out and screaming into it as you shuddered and jerked. He eased you through it, leaving his cock buried inside you while he fondled your clit, listening to you whimper and moan. It was a good thing you had hidden your face because you would surely have woken the whole complex up otherwise. 
He groaned into your ear as you massaged his cock, so tight that you launched him into his own orgasm, cumming inside you as you had asked. He remained still inside of you even after you had relaxed, leaving small kisses all over your hair before he leaned down to rest his head on the pillow. He had fucked you so slowly that he hadn’t broken a sweat, and yet he was still out of breath and panting. His head swam for several more minutes, until you shifted beneath him. But you didn’t move like you wanted him to get off.
Instead, you turned to look at him, a lazy, blissed out grin on your face and said, “Holy shit, that was so amazing. I’ve never cum so many times.”
“So were you. I’ve never made someone cum so many times,” he admitted, and replayed the way you came just because he had filled you. That was something he was unlikely to ever forget. He brushed some hair out of your face before leaning in to kiss you. It was slow and gentle, belying how tired the two of you now were, and he could see you were ready to fall asleep. “Gonna pull out of you now, princess. Need you to stay nice and relaxed, okay?”
You nodded, your eyes closing and winced as he slid from your ruined hole. A stream of cum followed after and he took a moment to appreciate it, allowing a smirk to steal across his face. There was no doubt you were his now, at least for a little while, and he committed it all to memory before gently gripping your shoulders. “We should really get cleaned up, then we can go to sleep.”
You grumbled cutely but let him help you up, the both of you stumbling blindly to the bathroom. Sleepiness was a thick fog, and you got cleaned up as quickly as possible before returning to the room. The two of you stood in the doorway, looking at the mess of nonsense covering the bed, and then you looked at Tendou.
“Let’s just sleep in there,” you suggested, taking him by the hand. He let you lead him over, watching the way your ass swayed as you crawled into the fort for hopefully the final time that night. In the few minutes it had taken him to get in after you, you had already pulled a blanket over your legs and were setting up the next movie to play. Not that you would be watching it, but he understood it was the principle of the thing. This was a movie marathon and it just wouldn’t do to fall asleep without being in the middle of one.
Once he’d gotten comfortable behind you, you rolled over and splayed out across his chest, startling him. He had expected to curl himself around your back while you went to sleep, but now you were tracing what lines you could see on his chest in the thin light. His hand rested on your waist, the other tucked behind his head, and he closed his eyes, comfortable with your warmth and weight in his arms.
“Satori,” you murmured, your hand falling flat right over the picture of the lake. “I really do like you.”
He laughed at that, and you could feel it rumble in your ear, deep in his chest. He was clearly as tired as you were, but you needed to say it. There was something in your half asleep brain that would not stop telling you to say it, and you were in no position to fight it.
“I figured as much, princess. Three orgasms are hard to fake, especially around a dick as big as mine,” he answered, and you blanched for a moment before erupting into laughter. He watched you through narrow eyes, fondness bubbling in his chest, until you settled back down against him. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, you know that?”
“So’re you,” you murmured. The nagging had stopped now that you had said what you needed too, and you were falling asleep quickly. “Don’t be gone when I wake up tomorrow, okay?”
“It already is tomorrow, and I’ll be here. There’s nowhere else I wanna be anyway,” he answered, letting his eyes close as well. With your comfortable weight on his chest and your even breathing mixing with the buzzing of the movie in the background in his ears, he drifted to sleep in no time, for once not worrying about what tomorrow would bring.
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shorkbrian · 4 years
Text
Babysitter
Prelude - I do not understand how some people get turned on by spanking, but I still respect that kink. I could never lol I just think back to the days where I got spanked so hard I’d pass out or the wooden spoon would break haha.
Pairing - Bakugou Katsuki X Reader
Prompt - idk I just thought of babysitters being so flipping like “Im in charge here” and stupid and I feel like Bakugou would enjoy babysitting like someone just a few years younger than him cause he’d get such a rush of power. 
Warnings - NSFW, abuse of power, noncon, spanking, degradation, slight misogyny. slight masochism?
Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5E30LdtzQTGqRvNd7l6kG5?si=IG4WgPeSQf2_UzyLXMWR7g
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Your mom was overbearing.
Here you were, a full-grown adult, and your mom was yelling her thanks to your “babysitter” as she rushed out the door.
You knew she was a bit protective, a bit hyper-vigilant and akin to a helicopter parent. But it was hard to be mad at her for it, not ever since dad had divorced her. She was terrified of something happening to you, of loosing the last thing in her life that she cared about. 
Still, it was hard not to feel a little bubble of irritation in your throat as you watched your “babysitter” wave to her as she climbed in her car. You didn’t need a babysitter, not at your age. And you especially didn’t need the gruff, surly man that had lived in the house across the street as your babysitter. You could take care of yourself, thank you very much.
And how come your mom didn’t trust you by yourself, but somehow trusted this Mr. Grumpypants that you had met a total of zero times. You had seen him once, when your mom’s car had broken down at her job and you had to go pick her up. 
You hadn’t minded, rolling up to the curb to see your mother animatedly talking to some blonde man with a stick shoved up his ass, his handsome face grimacing like he just sucked on a lemon dipped in hot sauce. Apparently she worked with him, the younger man a security guard for the complex her office was located in. You watched as his bored red eyes slid from your mother, over to you through the car window, his brow furrowing. The bored look had disappeared, and he regarded you with… curiosity? Contempt? It was hard to tell what emotion was hidden behind his eyes, underlaid so strongly with irritation and anger.
Mom had gushed about him all the way home, telling you details you didn’t really care about. His name was Bakugou Katsuki, he was single, 27, and wouldn’t you know - he lived right across the street!
Well, if she trusted him, you guess you should too. Didn’t mean you had to like it though.
And you didn’t, huffing as Bakugou closed the door and you turned back to your game, mashing buttons and sitting forward as you tried to beat this level.   It was ridiculous, your mom going over to his house a few days prior with a plate of cookies, asking the man if he wouldn’t mind coming and hanging out while she was away on some business trip. She had expressed her worry about leaving you - what if something happened while she was gone for a week? Someone could kidnap you and she wouldn’t even know until she got back!
Even when you politely reminded her that cell-phones existed, she was adamant; you were going to have someone big and strong stay in the house with you. It not only would keep potential burglars and thieves away, but it’d keep you safe, make sure you weren’t doing anything silly like staying up too late or eating too much junk food. It was embarrassing.
Some small part of you wanted to stomp your foot and whine at her, but that wouldn’t help you in trying to convince her that you were an adult. Once your mom convinced herself of something, nothing would be able to change her mind. Even when you pointed out that Bakugou was a strange man, she didn’t budge. 
“I see him everyday at work!” She had pointed out. “Plus, he’s a security guard sweetie - his literal job involves keeping people safe.”
Bakugou locked the door, before glancing your way. You felt his eyes on you, but you didn’t feel like acknowledging his presence, by gracing him with conversation or any sort of interaction. The man moved on after a second, walking behind you and into the kitchen. You heard him rustle in the cupboards, the clink of glasses, then the sound of water filling a cup.
Right - your mom had kindly showed him where everything was. She had guided him through each room showed him the guest room which she had made up for his stay, even walking him through the kitchen and showing him the contents of each cupboard. 
He came back into the living room with his backpack and cup full of water, settled himself down in one of the armchairs by the couch.  You didn’t spare him a glance as he pulled out his laptop, threw on some glasses, and settled himself in for… well, whatever he was doing. You were just glad that the two of you didn’t have to interact with each other.
You continued playing your game, occasionally getting frustrated enough to mumble under your breath at the TV as your character died yet again. This was going to be a long week.
----
You were taking a gap year after graduating, relaxing before you threw yourself into college and working. Right now, your days were spent playing games, scrolling on your phone and laughing at memes, going to the pool for hours on end, the library, bike rides, hikes… lots of activities that kept your mind and body occupied. But this week? Bakugou threw off every plan you made.
It was the second day, and you had gotten up early to go swim and goof off at the community pool for a few hours. It was fun, you could tan a little, cool off, maybe see some cute boys your age. 
When you got out of the water you had two missed texts from Bakugou. 
Where are you
Tell me where the fuck you went
Instead of answering, you huffed, wrapping your towel around your waist. It took maybe fifteen minutes to walk home - you’d deal with your overprotective babysitter then.
He met you at the door, throwing it open before you could even touch the handle. His face was drawn tight in a scowl, the blonde crossing his arms as soon as you stepped inside and shut the door behind you.
“Your fucking phone die? Or are you just ignoring me?”
You shook your head, irritated with how big of a deal he was making out of this. You went to the pool all the time, you weren’t going to die. “I was at the pool, chill dude.”
“Oh, I thought you just popped out to go fucking parachuting!” He spat, uncrossing his arms to gesture at your body. “I can see that you went to the pool dipshit. Why didn’t you fucking tell me, huh? You normally run off on your mom without a damn word?”
You stared at him, curious to see if he would burst a blood vessel with how worked up he was getting. He didn’t seem like someone that knew what the word “relax” meant. Bakugou probably slept all angrily, arms crossed, lips pulled into a frown, eyebrows drawn low.
“Fucking hey, earth to idiot!” Fingers snapped in front of your face, and you recoiled, glaring up at the man in front of you. Before you could open your mouth, he huffed, rubbing a hand across his forehead. “Don’t fucking go anywhere unless you run it by me, understand? I don’t need you wandering into a fucking alley and getting stabbed or some shit.”
Snorting, you moved past him, not even bothering to answer. He was an asshole. Despite what your mother thought, you weren’t a child. You knew how to take care of yourself, you didn’t need some grumpy old guy bossing you around.  Said man was grinding his teeth as he watched you walk away, headed for your room. It probably annoyed the life out of him that you hadn’t answered, but he didn’t say anything. 
When you finished grabbing clothes for your shower, you came out of your room to see Bakugou leaning against the wall. 
“So you’re being a little spoiled princess, not even talking to me? That’s rich. You know I’m gonna be here for the next fucking week - you better make peace with that.”
“Dude, I don’t know what you want. I’m fine, I do this all the time. Just leave me be, and I’ll do the same for you.”
Bakugou grumbled something under his breath, but your skin was getting dry and tight from chlorine, so you ignored him as you slipped into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. You could hear his feet stomping away, and almost giggled at the sound. It almost seemed like he was the petulant child that needed a babysitter.
It didn’t take you long to rinse off, get all the chlorine and salt off your skin. Drying off, you quickly realized you forgot a bra when you had grabbed clothes - which was fine, you would just wrap up in your towel and waddle back to your room. Plus, the bathroom was directly opposite your room, and Bakugou wasn’t nearby, you could hear dishes rattling in the kitchen, so that wouldn’t be a problem. 
And it wasn’t, not until you were in your room, door closed, towel on the floor as you rifled through your dresser drawers for the bra you really liked.
“Hey princess, do you want-“
You only heard him as he opened the door, and by that time you were scrambling to snatch your towel up around your naked body. Bakugou choked on his words, face turning a flaming red before he slammed the door shut, giving you your privacy. 
Heart racing, you sat down on the floor, too embarrassed for words. That was awkward. 
“Why the fuck would you grab clothes, only to come back and change in your room!??!” Bakugou yelled from the other side of the door, a decidedly angry “thump” from where he banged his fist against the door.
“I forgot something, geez! Why didn’t you bother knocking?!?” You yelled back, your own face heating up.
“Holy fucking shit, just get some fucking clothes on, asshole. I’m makin’ pancakes and shit.”
Breakfast was an awkward affair, your gaze focused firmly on the perfectly cooked food on your plate. Bakugou was glaring at you between bites, obviously fuming. He was probably just as embarrassed as you were, but at least he wasn’t trying to make small talk.
----
Bakugou doesn’t appreciate how much time you spend playing video games, and it’s only the third day. He’s grumbled about it several times already, but you aren’t hurting anybody, and there’s nothing else for you to do, so.
It seems like the only thing Bakugou is willing to do is sit nearby, glare at you condescendingly, and mutter under his breath about how you spend your time. When you decided to run to the store to get groceries (there was a surplus of food in the house - you just wanted some air and time away from your “babysitter”) Bakugou had suddenly appeared, moving in front of the door and sneering. 
“Are you trying to fuckin’ sneak off again? I won’t let that shit slide twice.”
You huffed, shrugging on your jacket. “Bakugou, I was going to the store. Contrary to what you think, I’m not eight years old, and I can take care of myself. My mom’s just a helicopter parent. You don’t even need to be here, honestly.”
The man scoffed, his face souring. “You’re literally a fucking child. Didn’t you just graduate highschool?”
Stepping closer to him, you squared your shoulders, eyebrows furrowing as you looked up at the blond. “Call me a child all you want - doesn’t change the fact I’m old enough to do stuff by myself. Now-“ you gestured to his body “-please move.”
“No.”
You crossed your arms over your chest. “And why not? You can’t just lock me in the house until my mom comes back.”
Bakugou’s head cocked, red eyes burrowing into your head. He grinned. “Why the fuck not? I’m in charge here, I get to make the damn rules. I say your ass stays here, and it’s going to.”
Clenching your jaw, you huffed, spinning on your heel. You weren’t going to be able to talk the bull-headed man into leaving you to your own devices. There was nothing left to do except shuck off your shoes, admitting defeat. It was so irritating - you didn’t need anyone looking after you, you were an adult! You were more than capable of handling yourself! Why didn’t your mom trust you? Did she think that you were too stupid to keep yourself alive and safe?
You left Bakugou at the door, grabbing a soda from the kitchen before flopping onto the couch in front of TV.  
Sure, you could read a book, do a puzzle, browse social media. But right now, you were feeling particularly angry, violent. You wanted to achieve something, finish quests, accomplish tasks. So video games it was.
Of course, that meant Bakugou sauntering back into the living room, groaning as he saw you back in front of the TV. But if he wasn’t going to let you go out, then this is what you were going to spend your time doing. If he wanted to treat you like a child, then you were going to act like one. Show him how much of a brat you really could be.
You turn on your console, select the game you’re going to be playing for the next few hours, and settle further into the couch, making yourself comfortable.  Reaching down to the coffee table, you’re about to grab the soda you had brought in earlier, but Bakugou beat you to it.
“Hey!” You whined, watching the blond pop the tab, take a long, slow drag of the carbonated drink. He smacked his lips and cocked his head, smirking down at you. 
“You shouldn’t drink this sorta shit, ’s bad for you.”
“Why are you drinking it then?!!?”
Bakugou shrugged. “‘Cause I’m in charge here. I get to do whatever I fuckin’ want.”
Huffing, you gave up the argument, starting to push yourself off the couch. Bakugou was one of those people that got off on power trips, liked being the one to call the shots. The best course of action here would be to just ignore him and grab another soda.
“And where the fuck do you think you’re going? I didn’t say you could move.” The blond man was standing in front of you, making it impossible for you to stand. He was so irritating - you couldn’t wait for this week to be over.
“I’m going to get something to drink, since you decided to help yourself to my soda.”
He moved out of your way, clicking his tongue before flopping down into the armchair by the couch. You glared at him for as long as you could, until the kitchen wall hid his face from view. Ugh, he was such a jerk. At first he had seemed somewhat decent, but as he got more comfortable around you, the man was turning into a self-absorbed tyrant. 
Whatever, you were only going to have a stupid “babysitter” for a few more days.
----
“Get off the damn game! Don’t make me haul your ass off that couch.” 
Bakugou threatened. He wasn’t very intimidating, standing there vigorously brushing his teeth like there was something wrong with them. The blond had already asked you two other times, and you had ignored him on both occasions. You were so close to leveling up, just a few more points.
If Bakugou wanted to go to bed when the sun was still up, he was more than welcome to do so. You however, had better things to do with your time.
You saw him stomp away out of the corner of your eye, apparently giving up on trying to tell you what to do in your own house. Good.
If anything, Bakugou should be grateful that all you were interested was playing video games and going to the pool. You could be out getting in trouble, doing drugs, rebelling against the system or something - but you were here, chilling and causing zero trouble. 
The sink in the bathroom ran, then clattering could be heard as Bakugou finished up his bedtime routine, putting his toothbrush away, washing his hands, yada yada.
He appeared back in the living room, arms crossed. His muscles bulged out like that, showcased by the sleeveless black tank top he was wearing. But you weren’t intimidated, it’s not like he was going to hit you or something.
“Alright, last chance. Turn the fucking game off, it’s your majesty’s bedtime now.” He sneered.
You ignored him.
“You seriously wanna do this princess?”
You stayed silent. Just a few more kills….
“Alright, you fuckin’ asked for it.”
The TV turned off, Bakugou yanking the cords out behind it.
“Dude, what the hell! I was so close to leveling up!!” You screeched, sitting up straight. Bakugou’s face was screwed into an angry frown, and he advanced towards you, walking with purpose. You were fuming, rising to your feet so you could get in his face, tell him off. He was acting like he was your dad or something, and he most definitely was not.
When the man got within an arm length of you, you immediately jabbed a finger into his chest, mouth opening to spit nasty words. Those words died when your hand was slapped harshly away, Bakugou still walking forward until he was crowding into your space. You tried to shrink back, but a rough hand latched onto the back of your neck, holding you still as Bakugou closed in on you, bringing your foreheads together.
“You are such a spoiled little princess. Think you can get away with shit, yeah? Never had a man in your life to put you in your goddamn place, that’s why, isn’t it?” 
You blanched, still trying to lean backwards, away from his overwhelming presence. It was kind of scary, how he was all up in your face, how his fingers gripped the back of your neck so tightly, how his face was so close to yours that you could feel his warm, minty breath.
“Bakugou, ple-“
“Nah, shut the fuck up. We’re past any point where you could’ve begged for forgiveness. I am so sick and tired of your bratty little attitude. You keep testing my patience, being a little shit, acting like you own the damn place. You’re gonna show me you’re fuckin’ sorry princess.”
A hand wrapped around your waist, another on your thigh, hefting you up with brute strength and slinging you over his shoulder in the blink of an eye. The swift movement made your head spin for a second, but you quickly adjusted.
“Woah, what the hell man? Put me down!” Bakugou ignored you, spinning on his heel and marching towards the guest bedroom. “Dude, put me down right now, this isn’t funny anymore. C’mon, put me down, I get it. You’re in charge, and I gotta listen. You can let me down now. Please?”
Your pleading went unheard, even as it got more and more desperate the closer to the guest bedroom he walked. When you passed through the doorway, you kicked at the mans stomach, tried to hit his back - you had a faint idea of where this was going, and it was nowhere good.
Without ceremony, you were thrown on the bed, the air getting knocked out of you with the impact, your head bouncing a few times on the mattress.  Bakugou turned, shutting and locking the door before he was back in front of you again, a vicious look on his face.
You scrambled backwards on the bed, holding out one hand as if to ward him off. “Okay, dude, wait, you don’t want to do this. Please don’t do this, you’re a good guy-“
“Shit, do you ever stop running your mouth? Calm the fuck down princess, I’m just gonna spank you ’till you cry, then we’ll be even.”
The idea was humiliating, embarrassing, degrading. But it was better than what you thought was about to happen. Bakugou grabbed your ankle, pulling you back towards him with a quick yank, sitting down beside you on the bed. The man patted his lap expectantly, before getting impatient with your hesitance and grabbing your hair, pulling you across his lap with a pained shriek from you.
“Now, here’s how this is gonna fucking go. You’re gonna sit there and take it, and you’ll be done once I say so. Now shut up.”
Without further ceremony, a broad hand slapped your ass, your shorts providing only the thinnest of barriers. You weren’t ready for the hit, so you lurched forward across the mans lap with a small cry. Another smack landed, and while you still weren’t ready, the sting wasn’t as jarring as the first slap.
SMACK
SMACK
SMACK SMACK SMACK
You tried to not whine, or cry, or make any noise, but it was hard. His hand was coming down with more force on each strike, and it /hurt/.  You could feel your skin throbbing underneath your shorts, red and tender, and you were ready to be done. 
Bakugou however, was not.
He kept going,
SMACK
Each hit harder than the last.
SMACK
You wanted to cry, trying to hold it in, just endure through the mortification of being spanked like a child.
SMACK
SMACK
SMACK
You couldn’t take it anymore, bursting into tears, skin burning, blubbering for Bakugou to stop, please.
The spanking stopped. 
The two of you sat there, you sobbing, Bakugou rubbing the skin of your ass over your shorts. Somehow, that hurt just as much as the spanking did, so you reached a hand back blindly, trying to catch his wrist and push him away. As soon as you grabbed his wrist, Bakugou delivered another savage slap to your behind, making you immediately apologize and drop your hands, let him pet and stroke your ass at his leisure.  It hurt.
You don’t know how long you both stayed there, Bakugou further irritating the burning, raw skin of your butt, you sniffling and calming down from the full-bodied sobs that had wracked your form earlier.  It had been long enough that you barely flinched when Bakugou tentatively fingered the waistband of your shorts, twisting up the fabric, as if he were hesitant to go further, but obviously considering it. You didn’t flinched when a decision was seemingly made, and a hand started slowly pulling your shorts down.
You flinched when the fabric slid over a particularly sore welt on your ass.
“What are you doing??” You panicked, trying to rise up, move away. A hand between your shoulder blades held you down, Bakugou’s gruff voice telling you to stay still.
“I just wanna see how it looks, fuckin’ chill out princess.”
It’s not like you could argue, so off slid your shorts. You tried to protest again when you felt fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties, but another swift slap to your rear had you keening in pain, quickly falling silent. You could let him assess the damage, but that was it. If he tried to touch you further, you’d bite a chunk of his skin off, go find your phone and call the police. 
With your lower half bared to the room, you squirmed uncomfortably, immediately stilling when Bakugou’s hand smoothed over the abused skin of your ass. He seemed fascinated by the damage he had caused, and you were sure that there were welts, maybe even bruises already forming. Your skin burned, and not in a pleasant way. God, it was painful.
There was so much pain, your skin somehow felt numb and on fire at the same time. You almost didn’t notice Bakugou’s hand dropping to your thigh, slowly beginning to wiggle it’s way upward, headed towards the little pink slit nestled between your legs. 
When his hand made contact with your pussy, you flipped out.
Almost literally - you rocketed off the man’s lap so fast that you almost flipped over onto the ground, just barely catching yourself at the last second. 
And then you were standing in front of the man, lower half completely bared, him staring at the space between your thighs, before slowly dragging his eyes upward to find your own. 
You turned tail and ran for the door.
A problem with your aforementioned plan of calling the police, was forgetting that Bakugou was a security guard. His job was literally chasing people down, subduing them.
He had you pinned to the door in a matter of seconds, chuckling in your ear. 
“Damn, I really was just only gonna spank your ass raw. You look goddamn delicious though, and it seems like you just haven’t learned your fucking lesson.”
You were hauled backward, a hand pulling your hair, the other wrapped around your waist. For the second time that day, you were tossed onto the bed, but this time you barely stayed for a second, already trying to scramble off the other side.  But Bakugou was faster, his hand around your calf and dragging you back to him with an iron grip. 
A scream tore out of your throat, and you kicked at the man with all your strength as you got closer, catching him square in the jaw. His head snapped back, but his grip never loosened, keeping you stationary while you tried to wiggle away. 
His other hand came up to massage his jaw while he slowly rolled his head down to fix you with the most intense, hungry look you’d ever seen a human wear.
“Ohhh, shit. You don’t even know what you just did, do you princess?”
You gasped at his breathy laugh, the way his eyes seemed to light up. Within a second, he was on top of you, face inches away from your own. You could feel his dick, hard against your thigh.
“Wait, you don’t have to do this-think of the consequences! Please, I won’t tell anyone, just let me go, right now. You don’t want to do this Bakugou, please, it’s not gonna be good for either of us-“
He ignored your reasoning, instead focusing on ripping off your shirt, doing the same to your bra. You tried to stop him, hitting and punching, trying to sink your nails into his back, claw at his eyes. You even resorted to snapping your teeth at his nose when his face got too close, turning your head to sink your teeth into his forearm.
Bakugou just groaned throatily, his eyes fluttering shut. Immediately, you let go, not expecting that response. That was supposed to hurt, why wasn’t he yelling in pain? The man lifted his forearm, watching blood start to drip from where your blunt teeth had punctured his skin. He was breathing heavily, straddling your legs, hunched over you like a dog.
The next seconds were a blur, clothes coming off, his hands manhandling you onto your side, his deranged laughter and low, excited swearing filling your ears.
You found yourself on your side, Bakugou straddling one thigh, holding the other up with his arm. He was lining himself up with your opening, rough hand guiding his dick to nudge against your entrance. You screamed.
“Stop it! Stop it, please! You can’t do this! Oh god, stop, stop, stop, don’t-“
“I can do whatever the hell I want, princess.” The man spat, seemingly unaffected by the way you thrashed your body. You tried kicking the leg under him, but his weight anchored it firmly to the bed. You tried kicking the leg he was holding in the arm, but his tight grip just became painful, squeezing you into place. You tried to sit up, to reach out and grab him by the neck and squeeze, but the position you were in was impossible. He knew what he was doing.
You screamed again, a sound of pained, fearful anger crawling out of your throat. Bakugou just laughed.
“This wouldn’t be happening if you had just been good and listened to me. We could’ve gotten along.” He gathered the spit in his mouth, before crudely spitting onto his fingers. “I would’ve left you alone for now, I mean, I’m not a bad guy. “ Bakugou slapped his spit-slicked fingers down over your pussy, smearing his saliva along your folds, messily rubbing it in.
“I’m an upstanding citizen, I keep little crooks and stupid brats from running things their way, that’s all I’m doing.”
You yelled as a finger entered you, probing at your walls. “That hurts! Take it out, take it out! You’re disgusting, get off of me! Stop-!”
Bakugou kept talking, pointedly ignoring your panicked whining. 
“Yeah, I’ve seen you before, and you’ve got a nice little body. But it’s not like I was just gonna up and hold you down. Good thing you’ve been giving me reasons all week though, being an absolute spoiled-ass princess, you’re so fucking annoying.”
Another finger joined the first, roughly jamming into your cunt, your juices beginning to flow and smooth the way. It was so stupid that your body was responding to this.
“I woulda never touched you, no matter how much I fucking wanted to, if you had just been good. I guess it works for me that you’ve been shit, huh?”
The man laughed again, leaning down towards your face to smile at you in a jeer, adding another finger to your aching pussy. The stretch hurt, it was too soon, but it felt good nonetheless. It’d been a while since you’d last messed around with someone.
When his fingers retracted, you gasped, face quickly blushing red. Another glob of spit was ejected onto Bakugou’s hand, and he quickly slicked up his cock with his own saliva, hissing as he first touched it.
As he lined himself up, you tried begging one more time. “Bakugou, Bakugou, please. Please don’t, you don’t want to do this. You can’t! Just let me up, please? Oh god, please, just let me go, I won’t tell anyone.”
He shoved the entirety of his cock inside with one, jarring thrust.
You screamed, voice cracking in the middle. The stinging pain of your ass was forgotten in the face of the jabbing, spiky pain in your lower abdomen. Bakugou hissed, eyes closed in bliss.
“God, you’re fuckin’ tight. You a virgin?”
Tears in your eyes from the unexpected pain of being filled so suddenly, you shook your head no. Bakugou clicked his tongue.
“Ah, I kinda figured. Slut like you probably can’t go a few days without a cock stuffing your cunt.” A thought seemed to cross his mind, and Bakugou’s eyes opened, peering down at you inquisitively, a slight twinkle in his eye.
“Is that why you’ve been such a demanding little princess?” You shook your head no vehemently, the pain slowly fading the longer Bakugou remained still inside you. “Holy fuck, that’s why you’ve been like this all week! You just needed a cock!” The man laughed before reaching a hand down to pat your face condescendingly. “Don’t you worry princess,  I’ll give you what you need.”
No further words were spoken, despite how much you wanted to scream and yell and curse at the man above you. He immediately drew his cock back, before thrusting into you again, quickly finding a mind-numbing pace that didn’t allow you any time to think.
His thrusts were smooth, steady, fast - it was hard, no, impossible to stop yourself from moaning at how good everything was starting to feel, despite how much you didn’t want it to. It was even worse when Bakugou’s hand found it’s way to your clit, beginning to furiously rub the little button as he fucked you stupid.
“Yeah, you fuckin’ like that?”
You ignored him completely, turning your face against the covers of the guest bed. Bakugou just huffed, increasing his pace ever so slightly.
It wasn’t long before you were gasping, moaning on every other breath, trying to hold yourself back from begging the man to let you cum. You writhed underneath him, trying to arch your hips back to meet every one of his thrusts, ride the hand that was rubbing at your clit so nicely.
Your orgasm hit you out of nowhere. 
It fizzed in your stomach, pleasure racing through you so quickly that you lost your breath, muscles locking up. It felt so good, you couldn’t breath, couldn’t move. Bakugou fucked you through it, smirking down as you obviously rode out your orgasm, his finger falling away from your clit before you could get overstimulated. 
A few more thrusts, and Bakugou pulled out, quickly moving to straddle your chest as he quickly jerked himself off. His hand made the most lewd sound, squelching up and down his length that was drenched in your juices. 
You were so blissed out from your orgasm, you almost didn’t mind when cum started splattering over your face.
You did mind, however, when Bakugou tried to rub it into your skin after he finished.  A quick snap of your jaws towards his fingers made your point clear, and Bakugou backed off.
“We have plenty of time to work on you, seems like you still need to be put in your place by the man of the house. Spoiled little princess.”
——
When your mom got home, you barely kept yourself from sobbing in her arms as she hugged you. You wanted to tell her everything that had happened, what Bakugou had done to you - but that would just make her more paranoid, fearful.
She would lock you in the house and never let you leave. Plus it was embarrassing. “Hey mom, by the way, the babysitter you hired for me, your adult child, raped me after spanking me so hard I bruised, and I couldn’t stop him!” Wasn’t a sentence you wanted to utter. You were weak, and stupid.
Bakugou watched in the background, his backpack slung over his shoulder, ready to head across the street and back to his own house. Your mom kissed your hair, finally disentangling herself from your arms, moving to talk to the gruff blond. You stayed by the door, watching Bakugou with narrow eyes.
“We were fine - although, you were right in having someone come over. She’s irresponsible as hell, I don’t know what could’ve happened if I wasn’t here to stop her from doing stupid shit.”
Your mom threw you a disapproving glance, quickly turning to thank Bakugou for helping the two of you out. She pressed money into his hand, but he told her not to worry about it - he got to eat good food, sleep in a nice bed, and the wifi was better here than at his house. Your mom gave him a quick hug, and you watched his face sour, before he quickly moved away from her grasp.
“Just let me know if you ever need me to come hangout with her again - I think it’s good for her to have a strong male figure in her life. And my wifi sucks, so it’s a win-win for everyone.”
Except you.
Your mom clapped her hands together excitedly. “Oh, that’d be perfect! What a nice young man you are, I knew you were trustworthy.”
Your stomach soured. 
Bakugou said his goodbyes, obviously trying to get out of the house and away from your touchy mother as quickly as possible. Your mother thanked him again, welcoming him over “at any time!” To use the faster wifi, as long as he wouldn’t mind hanging out with you.
Bakugou gave a gruff laugh, brushing past you on his way out the door. He turned, looking at your mother, then at you.
“I’ll be here to help out, don’t you worry princess.”
You slammed the door in his face.
He was never stepping foot in your house again, not if you could help it.
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miekasa · 3 years
Text
winter break/skiing au with eren
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↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader
↯ genres and warnings: modern au (college), fluff, eren is an idiot but we all knew that, and yes i do think he’d probably be a good snowboarder or athlete in general tbh
↯ word count: 2.7k lol and it’s not even written out like a fic
↯ notes: this is based off of a request i got for meeting eren at a ski lodge. heads up i know next to nothing about skiing or any related sport, so bear with me on this. also this formatting is... headcanonish but also fic like?? in an alternate timeline, i could write this out as a fic, but my lack of knowledge about the subject + me wanting to try this format out resulted in this!
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If he’s being completely honest, Eren wasn’t ecstatic to be going on this skiing trip with his friends in the first place, but he didn’t have much choice, seeing as he didn’t want to be the only one left behind for winter break.
Not to mention he’s a shit skier. He’s fine with a snowboard, so he wouldn’t be stuck on the bunny hills for a week, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. After all, he was pushing to go somewhere warm for break. You know, since it was already freezing cold at home.
Nevertheless, he sucks it up for the sake of his friends’ happiness (and because he was severely outnumbered. Also because Armin had never been skiing and Eren really wanted to record him falling face first into the snow at some point).
As expected, it’s fucking freezing by the time they make it to the lodge, but at least Jean—resident organizer of this trip—had gotten them a pretty nice cabin with central heating, and a fireplace. It’s more of a house that they’re renting really, with enough rooms for the six of them.
Unfortunately the rooms were not soundproof so he was subject to hearing Jean and Connie staying up until the crack of dawn, and Mikasa throwing pillows at Sasha telling her to shut the fuck up. But at least he got to room with Armin, so it wasn’t all bad. 
Eren spends the first day just chilling around, still warming up to the idea of the trip (and warming up physically, because fuck is it cold here). The lodge itself has main, communal buildings with indoor activities—a game room, indoor pools, hot tubs, a buffet, the whole nine yards—that he spends time exploring.
He’s heading down to the indoor pool with Armin and Jean in tow, the rest of his friends opting to head upstairs for dinner first after their day of skiing; and that’s where he sees you. And, not to sound like a lovestruck idiot, but Eren thinks you might be the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life.
In a cliche moment, he catches you as your head reemerges from out of the water, face dripping wet with pool water as you tread in your spot. Eren looks stupid—big, green eyes wide as hell and a little bit of a gap between his lips.
Jean has to smack him upside the head to get him walking again, mumbling about how Eren looks like the literal heart eyes emoji to which Eren simply pushes the taller boy into the water.
He looks back to spot you again (in a non-creepy manner of course), when a voice calls out your name—he’s presuming, by the way your turn your head.
“You’ll turn into a prune if you stay in any longer,” a short man with dark hair calls to you, a towel around his shoulder his mostly dry body, save for his swimming shorts that are still damp, “Come on, I don’t want get the shit end of the stick at the buffet.”
The short man’s words seem to make you chuckle, and a little reluctantly, you swim to the edge of the pool, taking his hand to get out of the water. Eren frowns a bit watching the interaction. You and the short man seem close—there go his chances of… well, he’s not sure exactly… uh… talking to you, maybe?
Whatever it was, you might already have a boyfriend, and from the way the rest of, who Eren is again presuming to be, your friends walk with you to the exit, it doesn’t seem like he’d ever find you alone again.
Oh well. He sighs, trying not to think much of it, and enjoy his time in the pool. (He fucking doesn’t because Jean gets his revenge and pushes him in the deep and even Armin his him with a pool noodle. Traitor).
Day two he’s finally going to to the slopes. On his way up in the lift, he can see Sasha and Connie stumbling down the hill while Jean laughs behind them, and Eren only shakes his head.
Yeah, maybe they shouldn’t have taken Sasha, Connie, and Armin with them on the advanced hills, but it was so much more fun this way. Although, to his credit, Armin was catching on quickly (no thanks to Eren or Jean; that was all Mikasa’s teachings).
Eren lets Mikasa work her magic with Armin. He straps on his helmet and goggles, and heads down first. It’s been a while since he’s snowboarded, but he’s still pretty damn good if he does say so himself. He even tries out a few old tricks and—not to brag—but sticks his landing every time.
Halfway down the slope, he can feel someone else boarding beside him—and he doesn’t think much of it, until they replicate his previous flip, landing a just a little in front of him.
Eren can’t see the person through their goggles, but from the way they look back at him before pushing forward, he can tell that they wanted a challenge. And who is Eren to turn down a little friendly competition?
The descent continues on with Eren and his mystery partner not-so-subtly flexing their own skills. Eren copies their flips and turns, and is amazed as he watches them copy his in return. 
He decides to kick it up a notch, swerving over to a small snow rap, to use the height it gives him to pull off his signature move—yes it’s called the Jaegerbomb, yes he did come up with it when he was eleven, and no he doesn’t regret because it’s still sick as fuck, shutup Zeke.
He sticks his landing, perfectly timed with the end of the slope, pushing his board forward to completely stop himself. He turns around, lifting his goggles, to give his copycat a smug look, when, to his surprise, he sees them pulling off something almost equally as impressive, and probably more complex before they land. 
Eren’s got the same stupid, starstruck look on his face as he did in the pool, as he watching their momentum come to a stop a little ways downhill from him, because, fuck if that wasn’t the coolest thing he’s ever seen.
Immediately, they’re surrounded by two other bodies, both of which sing their praises, probably for that last move. Eren knows he would. It’s only after your goggles are pushed up over your helmet and your turn around that Eren realizes its you! The girl from the pool.
If he was awestruck before, it’s nothing compared how he’s feeling now. No way you were the same person! But, he has to admit, if we were gonna get crushed by anybody on the slopes, he’s glad it was a pretty girl.
To his surprise, you make your way over to him after unbuckling from your board, and Eren has to quickly shake the stupid look off of his face.
“I guess I lost our race back there,” you say with a smile, cloudy air falling from your lips from the cold, “But I just wanted to tell you that your last flip was really cool! It must have taken you forever to master that.”
For the first time since arriving, Eren’s glad it’s cold as shit, because now at least he has a coverup for the redness creeping onto his cheeks. With a nervous chuckle, he finally responds, “Yeah, I’ve, uh, kinda been working on it since I was eleven.”
“Well it definitely payed off, I’ve never seen anything like it,” you cheer, and Eren is really considering passing out right now, but that would not be cool. Very uncool. So he doesn’t. “Have you been boarding that long?”
“Yeah! I mean, well, I’m only 21, so I guess not that long,” Eren says with a nervous chuckle, “Well—uh, I guess, like, ten years is a long time, but I—I used to snowboard more often when I was little with my family, then, um, you know college got in the way in stuff… haha… yeah.”
Okay, fine, Eren has never been the smoothest guy in the world, but he’s usually not this awkward either. But can you really blame him?—between your looks, and your skills, and the fact that you actually came over to initiate and carry out a conversation with him, he was a goner from the start.
“I’m Eren, by the way,” he continues, hoping to cover up his awkward stuttering, “And, uh, you must have been doing this for a while too? Your last move was sick, I’ve never seen anything like it!”
“(Y/N),” you respond with a smile. Luckily for him, you don’t seem completely turned off by his awkward demeanor, still as bubbly as ever. “Not really… well, kind of? Maybe a few years at this point, but my teacher’s been a real hardass, so I learned to pick up on things pretty quick unless I wanted to get turned into a human snowball,” you tell him, turning your shoulder a bit to point back at your friends, “If you think what I did was good, you gotta see Levi—he’s the short one yelling at the one with the pigtails. He taught me everything I know.”
Eren recognizes Levi as the shorter man who helped you out of the pool yesterday. He deflates a little—he’d kind of forgotten about him, and he isn’t too happy to be reminded of him again.
“Oh, I see,” Eren nods, glancing over at Levi once more, “He must be a pretty good teacher.”
“When he’s not throwing snowballs as a learning tool, yeah he is,” you laugh, “Anyways, I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to go at it again sometime. I don’t know how long you’re, uh, staying or anything, but racing with you was fun. Even if you did get a bit of a head start.”
“I’m here for the week, actually,” Eren’s eyes practically shine at the hint of competitiveness in your voice. He loves to be challenged, after all. “But I don’t mind giving it a go right now, if you’re going up again?”
Eren has to stop himself from grinning like an idiot when you accept his invitation. He thinks he’s finally in the clear when he hears the short man—Levi—call out your name again.
To his surprise, you beckon Eren along with you, and you introduce him to Levi formally. Levi has to look up to look at Eren, but Eren’s the one who shrinks under his gaze; an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. Damn, your teacher (friend, too? not boyfriend, apparently, though?) is intimidating as hell, how on Earth do you take lessons from him without buckling in fear??
You point to your other friends—Isabel and Farlan—who are standing a little further away. The former of whom is attempting to make a snow angel while the blonde is enthusiastically recording and taking pictures of the events.
After introducing the two, you ask Levi if he wants to up the hill with the both you again (and no, Eren doesn’t pout when you extend the offer to him—he’s really working on this keeping his feelings in check and being a rational thinker and all that and if you ask him it’s paying off), to which Levi declines (thank god).
Not even because Eren would be bummed if you didn’t get that he wanted to spend some more time alone with you not just to snowboard, but also because he knows he’d fall flat on his face in front of Levi, and then he’d probably have to hide in shame for the rest of his trip.
“Looks like it’s just us then,” you smile at him, “Okay, we can head back up—I’m just gonna ask Isabel to trade gloves with me real quick, yeah? And steal a heat pack from her.”
Eren doesn’t know if he should follow you over to Isabel, so he kind of shuffles around where he’s standing, a few feet next to Levi. (And damn, is it just Eren or is it suddenly 50 degrees colder next to this man).
Eren’s avoiding eye contact and small talk—and subsequently avoiding any bubbling feelings or irrational false suspicions about Levi. Also, he sucks at small talk.
It’s Levi who lets out an exasperated sigh first, not even bothering to turn to face Eren before bluntly saying, “She’s single.”
Eren’s eyes go wide and he’s sputtering in embarrassment—also because Levi said it so loudly, what if you heard??—but he’s cut off again before he can even speak: “Don’t even try it, Farlan and I saw you drooling over her at the pool, too.”
Well, now Eren’s certain that the blush on his face and neck are not from the cold, but from his complete and utter humiliation. “Well, I, uh, I didn’t mean to—”
“You don’t seem to be too great at this, so I’ll take pity on you and tell you she likes you, too. Or likes you enough, at least,” Levi continues.
“I—she does?” Eren blurts. Okay, now he’s probably being too loud.
“She talked to you didn’t she,” Levi says, but the question comes out as more of a deadpan observation, “Look if she asks you about anything while you’re up there—or better yet, asks you to teach her anything, just take it as an opening, alright kid? Trust me, there’s nothing you can do that she can’t.”
Ouch. Eren reasons that Levi is probably right, he’s only seen you board once but you’re pretty incredibly but, still.
Wait does that mean you really were flirting with him before?? You’re actually interested in him???
He hears you calling out to him, and sees you waving, gesturing towards the lifts with a new pair of bright blue mittens on, and Eren barely has the coherency to wave back (stupidly, slowly, lovestruck, like an idiot).
Levi watches the exchange with a bored look on his face. He sighs audibly this time, untucking his arms from where they were crossed over his chest to pick up the snowboard at his feet. “Cabin 24C, east wing. Bring her back after dinner,” he says, hoisting the board under his arm before walking towards Farlan and Isbael.
Eren doesn’t even have time to ask him anymore questions—plus you’ve started walking towards the lifts and he’s obviously not going to leave you hanging.
He doesn’t and your little ski-lift, snowboarding kind of date goes well, even if he’s positive you did take it easy on him.
You’re the one to ask him to go up one more time, when Eren remembers Levi’s advice and finally musters up the courage to ask: “Actually, I’m a little hungry—do you, uh, maybe wanna head inside for dinner? If you’re still up to, we can come back later.”
And when the evening is over and Eren’s gotten your number, he does in fact walk you back to your lodge with your friends, and he thinks that even Levi gave him a look of approval before slamming the door in his face.
(It wasn’t really approval, so much as he’s impressed Eren had the balls and critical thinking skills to actually ask you out in the end. But it’s fine because Farlan and Isabel both loudly told him how happy they were to see you’d scored a date with ‘emerald eyes from the pool’).
Mikasa and Armin are less than impressed when Eren comes back to his own lodge at damn near midnight after having not answered any of their calls all day, but Eren thinks it was worth it, even if he does have a bruise from Armin poking him in the side with his ski poles.
Eren meets you at the slopes every day for the rest of the week, ignoring Jean and Connie’s claims about him being a simp. So what if he is? He’s the one snowboarding and sipping hot chocolate with the pretty girl from pool at the end of the day isn’t he?
He learns that the both of you attend the same university, but are in almost opposite programs. That makes sense, Eren thinks, because he surely would have remembered seeing you on campus before.
You even get along with his friends really well, even if you only get the opportunity to meet them once at the lodge. Eren is more than impressed, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Mikasa warm up to someone so quickly. 
He thinks he’s pretty successful at meeting your friends, too. Isabel and Farlan continually reassure him that you do in fact have a crush on him (and maybe even persuade him try and kiss you before the week is over. Spoiler: he does, while it’s snowing and everything and it’s pretty damn great). 
On the last day of his trip, Eren takes you to the top of the hill with all his friends, and when you completely demolish Jean and leave him eating your dust, Eren thinks he might just be halfway in love with you already. 
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babyjamiebarnes · 3 years
Text
Build-A-Bear
Part Two
Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker (platonic), background MCU characters
Warnings: [chapter] language; [series] language, smut, violence
Summary: The only people who knew she was actually a Stark were her dad, her step-mom Pepper, and her “uncles” Happy and Rhodey. A promotion within Stark Industries takes her from an already-sought after position in the Weapons Anaylsis Unit straight to the Avengers as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist... which means her dad is her new boss. There’s only one rule at work: no fraternizing with coworkers. There’s one more rule at home: no dating any Avengers. So what is she supposed to do when a grumpy super soldier becomes not-so-grumpy around her? At 25, do her dad’s rules still apply? Or is her entire livelihood at risk?
Author’s Note: This one was gonna be super short but I felt bad so it’s super long instead lol. I originally planned on posting shorter chapters more frequently so it might be closer to 3-4 days between parts now that I’m posting longer chapters. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I’ve never done a tag list before so I’m going to keep the limit pretty small. And if you want, you can buy me a coffee! ❣️
(Part One)
Tags: @kennedywxlsh
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About an hour later, a light knock on the lab door drew your eyes from your work to Bucky as he walked in. Peter’s eyes darted up but immediately looked back down when he realized the visitor was for you.
“Hey Bucky,” you smiled. He smiled back and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“So… you wanted to see my arm?” he said, more as a question than a reminder.
“Yeah, if you could sit right here, that’d be perfect.”
He did as you asked and took a seat on a lab chair, letting you lean across the lab table toward him so you could fiddle with his prosthetic arm. You quickly grabbed your magnifying glasses, flipping the magnifiers up so you could examine him at face value first.
After a few minutes of looking at the outer plating and sensory receptors, you pulled away.
“Can you feel with this arm?” you asked.
“I can feel pressure but I can’t actually feel with it.” You gave him a confused look, only sort of piecing together what he meant. As he fumbled over his words to explain again, you put your glasses to the side, running around to Bucky’s side again to stand in front of him.
“Okay, this might be weird but it’ll really help me. Hold your hands out, palms up.” He did as you said. “I’m going to do the same thing to both arms and then I want you to show me, using just your right arm, how it felt on each one, okay?”
Bucky nodded and watched as your fingertips gently glided over his forearms, leaving goosebumps in your wake. The second time, you brushed your palms against his skin, as if you were brushing away crumbs. The final time, you scratched your nails down his right arm, making him take in a sharp breath as he watched the skin of his arm turn a pale pink. His left arm, however, kept catching your fingernails between the plates so you resorted to scratching across instead of down.
“Okay, now show me.” You flipped both of your arms over, palm up.
Using just his flesh arm on your right arm, he grazed his fingertips over your skin, admittedly sending a shiver down your spine. You didn’t even consider how weak that touch usually makes you, especially from someone who looks like that. And you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find him attractive before you even graduated college. You and your roommates were guilty of many nights of fuck-marry-fight with the Avengers as your victims.
When your gaze moved up to meet his, he brushed his hand over your arm, then delicately scratched his nails down your arm.
If it hadn’t been for the slight hum of machinery across the room, you’re sure Bucky would’ve heard your heart beating out of your chest.
Dad would literally kill me if he knew the thoughts going through my head right now, you thought.
“Okay,” you started, pausing briefly to clear your throat. “What about what your left arm feels?”
This one made him furrow his brows, either in concentration or confusion. He pushed his fingertips against your skin harder than before and moved them down your arm. He used more pressure again with the second movement, then went back to heavy fingertip pressure for the scratches.
“Hm,” you said simply, letting your arms drop to your sides again. “So you feel the weight of the touch but not the sensation that comes with it?” The confusion in his eyes made you rephrase. “So this on your right arm —“ you ran your fingers down his flesh arm again, “gives you goosebumps, but this on your metal arm —“ you repeated on the left, “is just a weight, no shiverbugs?”
“Shiverbugs?” he repeated with a barely noticeable smile.
“Goosebumps! Sorry. Shiverbugs is something my grandma used to say. Sometimes I slip into the family slang,” you chuckled. Bucky’s smile grew a bit at the sound of your laugh.
“Yeah, I only feel that on the right arm. No shiverbugs with the left.”
You jokingly scrunched your nose at him before returning to your previous seat. He stood there as you scribbled down notes on how he feels things and your immediate thoughts on how to make it more real for him.
“Is there anything you want done to your arm?”
Bucky seemed slightly taken aback at the question, but quickly steeled his expression. “I know Tony wanted to make it quieter,” he said.
You pushed your glasses up your nose and leaned your elbows on the table between you. You could tell he was still pretty reserved, either because you were new and he didn’t feel comfortable around you, or because he didn’t feel comfortable in the tower as a whole yet.
“I know what Tony wants,” you said gently. “What do you want?”
He frowned at this, turning his eyes to the floor as he thought. After a beat, he finally said, “I just want it to feel real again.”
And you could’ve cried right then and there. You knew the story of the Winter Soldier. You had heard what Bucky had been through. You couldn’t imagine going through anything close to what he experienced, and you’d be damned if you let him down.
But you couldn’t cry in front of him on your first day, so you smiled at him softly.
“That’s not an easy feat but I’ll do what I can, Barnes.”
He smiled briefly before frowning again. That frown seemed to be his default expression.
“Is there anything else you need?” he asked.
“Not right now. Thanks for helping me out,” you replied. He just nodded before walking out. Your eyes stayed on the door for an extra couple seconds before you spun around on your seat and scurried across the room to plop down next to Peter, who was packing his stuff to head home for the day.
“Hey, Boy Wonder, question.” Peter looked at you with raised eyebrows. Nicknaming ran in the family. “Want to use that biomolecular engineering and help me with something?”
•••
Nearly every day when you stopped in the kitchen for lunch, you’d run into Bucky. Sometimes he’d be with Sam, sometimes Steve, sometimes on his own. But almost every single day, he’d be in the common room chatting or the kitchen eating. For the first couple weeks, he was a little tense when you were around. You’d hear him and Sam bickering as you approached, just to see him quiet down once you entered the room. It was a bit disheartening at first, but when it was just the two of you, he always engaged.
You’d called him into the lab a couple times to look over his arm again, but you always felt bad taking him away from whatever training or cases he was working on. The digital renderings were always there, and you spent plenty of time digging into those and running simulations of the different ways you could muffle the wiring. And it’s a good thing you ran the simulations, because a couple of them would’ve fried his whole arm and then some.
Peter was a great help too. When he wasn’t working on his own projects, he’d poke his nose into your work and throw out recommendations. Robotics may have been your specialty, but the kid knew his stuff. He’s the only reason you finally figured out the perfect combo to quiet Bucky’s arm without knocking him out.
Nearly four weeks after your first day — and a week after Peter went back to campus, leaving you alone in the lab — you cornered Bucky in the communal kitchen again and turned on your classic Stark charm.
“Hey Bucky,” you said sweetly, leaning over the counter across from him while he tossed fruit into a blender.
“Hey [Y/N].”
You’d grown a bit more comfortable with each other, mainly from when you two were left alone. He still was a bit quieter with one of his friends around, but he was growing more talkative in general. You felt comfortable tossing nicknames at him; he felt comfortable saying “hey” instead of “hi” and once gave you your own nickname. Since you called him Bucky Bear a time or two, he called you Build A Bear. He almost looked panicked when it slipped, but your initial shock was quickly followed by giggles, easing the tension in his shoulders. But the feeling that name sent to your stomach felt more like bats than butterflies. He even joked with you now.
“So I’ve been looking at the blueprints we have for your arm and I was wondering — I know this is a lot to ask — could I maybe spend some more time digging around in your arm?” You flashed him a hopeful smile, even propping your chin on your hand to look cuter.
Before he answered, he put the lid on the blender and started it, staring at you blankly as the sound filled the entire room. You just sat there, continuing to smile at him. And the more you fluttered your lashes while he let the blender run, the more you could see his frown-y facade start to crack.
He finally broke into a smile when he shut the machine off.
“You don’t have to ask, [Y/N]. I mainly train in the mornings so my afternoons are free. As long as I’m here, you can call me in whenever.”
You jumped up and ran around the counter, giving him an unexpected hug, made obvious by the way he tensed up. You elected to ignore it.
“You’re the best, Bucky Bear.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said, gently pulling away from you to pour his smoothie into two glasses. “I just have one stipulation.” You looked up at him expectantly. “Take the rest of this? I, uh, I made a bit too much.”
With a laugh, you grabbed the nearly full glass and led him down the halls to your lab. Since Peter was only coming back one weekend a month, you had kind of taken over the lab, adding some color to make your workspace a little less drab. Your guilty pleasures playlist — aka your favorite middle school dance songs — played quietly over the speakers as you directed Bucky to sit down.
Getting into his arm wasn’t the easiest task. You had to pry off the opening of each individual outer plate, then unscrew — yes, with a screwdriver — the covering on the inner plates to actually see the wiring inside. Fortunately, Bucky brought his phone with him so he could occupy himself and let you focus. You were a bit surprised at how easily he understood modern technology, but he wasn’t quite the old man Steve was when it came to the changing times.
After spending a solid 10 minutes leaning over the lab table to open Bucky’s arm, you poked around inside for a while, jotting down notes as you went. Shuri had sent Tony quite a few notes for you to reference, but seeing everything firsthand and taking your own notes always helped.
Unfortunately, Bucky had two removable sections in his arm: one on his forearm, one in his bicep.
“Scale of one to ten, how comfy does the table look?” you asked.
Bucky looked up from his phone and gave you a confused look. “Uh, maybe a two? Why?”
“Well, Buckaroo, I need to get to the top plate too so you’ll have to either hold your arm up for me to get to it or lie down somewhere.”
He glanced back down at the table, then looked at you in confusion as he voiced his own suggestion. “What about the couch in the common room?”
You tapped your nose and pointed at him with a smile, gathering your supplies and the rest of Bucky’s arm. He led the way, lying flat on the couch and raising his left arm over his head.
“Is it okay if I play more music out here?” you asked as you unloaded everything.
“Sure. I should probably catch up on modern music anyway,” he said with a soft smile. You had Friday play your guilty pleasures playlist again while you got to work on opening up the top of Bucky’s arm.
You’d been poking around for almost 20 minutes when the silence was broken.
“Music nowadays is so sexual,” Bucky said suddenly.
“Hm. What makes you say that?” you asked, only half paying attention as you drew up more stream-of-consciousness notes on the coffee table beside you.
“This song.” You paused and immediately recognized the beat for “Candy Shop” by 50 Cent.
“Oh come on, as if you didn’t have any inappropriate songs in the ‘40s,” you scoffed.
“Of course we did but it was never this blatant! We were more subtle back then,” Bucky defended.
“Bro,” you deadpan. “If you think ‘Candy Shop’ is obvious, you have way more catching up to do. Friday, play ‘WAP’ by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion.”
You watched Bucky react as the song started. Even the initial “there’s some whores in this house” made his eyes go wide. At “wet ass pussy make that pull out game weak,” he turned to you, beet red in the face.
“What kind of music do you listen to?!”
“This is a popular song!” you laughed. “We have some obviously sexual songs that aren’t quite as… vulgar too. Friday, play ‘T-Shirt’ by Thomas Rhett.”
Bucky eyed you cautiously this time, not quite sure if you were actually playing a more censored song. He visibly relaxed when he heard the first lyrics, “Get off of work and we meet down at our spot. We got a patio with a view of a parking lot.”
“See, this is already so much better.”
“Don’t act so innocent,” you smirked, rolling your eyes at him.
“That sounds like an accusation,” Bucky laughed.
“Oh, it is.”
“Yeah? What’s that supposed to mean?” He sat up to face you directly, one leg landing on each side of your body sitting on the floor. His posture combined with his playful conversation had you wondering where this confidence came from. Because you definitely liked it.
“Come on,” you scoffed. “You can’t convince me a face like that,” you pointed directly at him to emphasize your point, “wasn’t making panties drop left and right back in the day.”
He shook his head and laughed to himself, leaning back on the couch, yet made no move to deny your accusation.
“Who would’ve known my sweet little Bucky Bear was a player?” you joked.
“Oh, like you’re not the same way, Build A Bear.”
“Excuse me?!” you squealed. “I’ll have you know I’m a good little Christian girl and I’m saving myself for marriage,” you said with a grin, maneuvering from sitting on your butt to kneeling and clasping your hands together like you were praying.
“You’re a lot of things, [Y/N]. A good liar is not one of those things,” Bucky smirked.
Your mouth fell agape. You liked this confident, playful side of him. You’d only seen glimpses until now.
“What’s your number?” you asked, dropping your hands to your sides.
“Uhh… My phone number?”
“No, your sexual body count,” you laughed, making sure to clarify; former assassins probably have a different interpretation of ‘body count.’ “How many people have you slept with?”
You knew it was a personal question but given the topic of conversation and casual tone you’d both taken on, it didn’t seem totally out of bounds.
Bucky thought for a second, slowly counting on his fingers. Your eyes watched as the slender metal digits flicked up: one, two, three... “Four.”
“Yeah, okay,” you scoffed.
“Why is that so hard to believe?” Bucky said with a laugh.
“Because that’s my body count.”
“Doll, I took plenty of dames out on the town, but I’d leave the night with a kiss and nothing else,” he said, that old school Brooklyn lilt sneaking up on him.
You sighed and shook your head, still not believing him but choosing to let it go for now.
“Give me your arm,” you said, holding your hand out. Bucky let his arm drop into your hand while you picked up a microchip with a needle-thin pair of tweezers. “This will adhere to the vibranium and essentially act like a pillow to muffle the sounds of your arm. So it’ll still make noise — I can’t just get rid of all sound — but it’ll be notably quieter.”
You tucked the chip under the inner plating of Bucky’s arm, watching as it sparked over the metal to let you both know it was working.
“Now lie back down so I can put you back together, Humpty Dumpty,” you said.
Bucky let out a quiet chuckle, but leaned back on the couch with his left arm over his head. After 15 minutes of angling the plating just right so it would fit back together, you climbed off the couch, distancing yourself from Bucky for the first time in nearly four hours.
“Anything else I can help the mad scientist with today?” Bucky asked. He had moved to rest his elbows on his knees, looking up at you from his spot on the sofa.
You checked your watch to see how much time you had left in your workday. 4:15. Forty-five minutes until you can clock out for the weekend. Not quite close enough to bullshit through some dumb side project so you don’t get too invested. But there’s one thing you wanted to check out to improve the feeling in Bucky’s arm.
“Can you take your shirt off?” you asked plainly.
Bucky’s eyes went wide for half a second before he slipped back into his playful demeanor. “Shouldn’t you take me on a date first?”
“Shut up,” you giggled. You giggled. “I just want to see how the arm is connected to your torso.”
Without pause, Bucky leaned forward, grabbed the back of his shirt, and tugged it over his head to let it fall to the floor. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t consider what he’d look like underneath his clothing, so it took you a second to gather your bearings again. You couldn’t help yourself. How could you not admire the slender lines of his collarbones, the thick layer of muscle covering his chest, the distinct ridges on his abdomen speckled with scars, the very tip of what you could only assume were two tantalizing depressions leading right to —
“Like what you see, doll?” he smirked.
Your eyes met his, reluctantly pulling away from what you knew would be the source of your dreams tonight.
“Four, my ass,” you mumbled in fake annoyance, kneeling between his thighs again to get a better look at him. Your fingertips trailed along the smooth line of scarred skin bordering the harsh metal of his arm. It took all your willpower to focus on work instead of the heat his body was radiating being so close to each other. “Was this how, you know, they put your arm on?”
Bucky shook his head, his expression growing sullen at the indirect mention of his tormentors. “They just kind of dug away at it. The Wakandans actually cut away a bit more of my skin to allow for healthier healing.”
You could tell it was carefully done, judging by the faint discoloring and thin ridge alongside the metal, as opposed to angry red lines that protruded out like the photos Shuri sent.
“Does this area hurt?” You pressed your hand flat to the scar; Bucky had to try to reign in his heartbeat. You had leaned in close to see his arm, leaving you close enough for him to just dip his head down and —
“What’s going on here?”
Both of you whipped your heads to the side to see a very confused — and slightly annoyed — Tony standing in the entrance to the common room, clearly just passing by and stumbling on a somewhat compromising situation: his daughter on her knees between a shirtless Winter Soldier’s thighs.
Without taking your eyes off your father, you reached around on the coffee table and grabbed your notebook.
“Research! I promise!”
“Research that couldn’t happen in your designated lab?” You could tell there was so much more he wanted to say, but had to keep it to himself for now to avoid telling Bucky who you really were.
“I had to open the compartment in his tricep area and didn’t want to make him lie down on the lab tables for three hours.” The accusatory glare from your dad made you shrink into yourself, your voice growing quieter as you spoke. Fridays were family dinner night, and you already knew you wouldn’t hear the end of this.
“Uh-huh,” he said slowly, still eyeing you and Bucky suspiciously. “And why did he need to be half naked for that?”
“Da — Tony,” you said, barely catching yourself. “I mean, Mr. Stark. I was examining the scar tissue and spinal connection to determine how to enhance the sensory receptors currently embedded in the vibranium.”
Tony’s eyes flitted between you and Bucky. Your eyes were wide, clearly nervous as he grilled you. Bucky, on the other hand, was flushed pink and leaning a little too close for Tony’s comfort.
“Keep this PG from now on, okay? And no working outside of the lab. This is Stark Tower, not Bezos Tower. We’re not gonna work you to the bone.” He started to walk away before stepping back and adding, “No fraternizing with coworkers, remember?”
With a quick nod, you stood abruptly and gathered your things to take it back to your lab for the night. Bucky was quick to slip his shirt back on and followed you with his head down to avoid the burning gaze of your father — or as far as he knew, his boss.
You didn’t expect Bucky to go back to your lab with you, but part of you was glad he did. Being around him brought you a sense of calm and comfort, even after what just happened. If he had just walked away, you’d assume the worst: that an accusation like that was far from what he wanted to hear.
You set all your things back on your table to start putting them away when Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets and cleared his throat.
“Sorry about that,” he said. You spared a quick glance at him, seeing the tension in his shoulders as he chose his words carefully.
“Why?” you asked, genuinely confused on how that situation was somehow his fault.
“Tony… he doesn’t really like me much.”
“Yeah, I know,” you laughed. “But that was way more of a me-problem than a you-problem. We’ll just have to work in here from now on.” You shrugged and went back to putting your tools in their respective drawers.
Bucky still stood right inside the doorway, the door shut behind him so no one outside could hear you two. He rocked back and forth on his feet, trying to force himself to follow through with at least mentioning what he planned on asking you.
“I was actually gonna see if you wanted to get dinner together sometime until Tony gave us that speech,” he chuckled.
You slid the final drawer shut and turned to Bucky. You knew you two were getting closer and you couldn’t deny feeling an attraction to him, but you never expected him to feel that same pull. The thought made you smile back at him while he cracked his knuckles, most likely from nerves. What happened to that fun and flirty attitude he had just a few minutes ago?
Your grandma always said to never date a man who wasn’t nervous about asking you out...
“I’m pretty good at keeping secrets,” you said quietly.
His eyes stopped darting around the room to find your gaze. You stepped closer, taking slow steps as you crossed the room to him until you were toe to toe. He didn’t take his eyes off of you until you held your phone out to him.
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” you said with a small smirk.
His lips curled into a small smile as he snatched your phone and entered his number.
“I’ll text you my address. Does tomorrow night work?” you asked, unintentionally biting your lip but not missing the way Bucky’s eyes followed the movement.
“Tomorrow sounds great,” he replied.
“Okay. See you tomorrow, Buck.” You took a bit of a risk and stood on your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, his face immediately flushing red. Your own cheeks grew warm when you stepped back, tossing Bucky a quick wave as you turned back around and hoping he’d leave before you started screaming.
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ktheist · 3 years
Text
02 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m
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➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung
➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.
➙ word. 1.9k
➙ warnings. explicit content. oral (f receiving).
➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05  | 06 | finale | side story 1 |
➙ synopsis. 
“can we have morning sex?”
“not today.”
x
“is that my brother’s shirt?” is the first thing kim taehyung says to you after a whole night of you declaring war against him for choosing his girlfriend over you.
your body clock’s designed in a way where no matter how late you go to sleep, you’ll always wake up at 8 in the morning. the question of whether you can go back to bed or not varies. like right now, when your stomach is grumbling because it’s decided to deem that the spicy carbonara ramen you had has lost its sustaining-abilities.
“uh, is that a woman-choosing, best friend-abandoning human i see?” you say, eyes squinted at said human.
“whatever,” that seems to have taken taehyung’s interest off the creme colored sweater hanging off your shoulders and way past your butt. you could’ve not word shorts when you went out to get yourself a bowl of cereal. mainly because the brothers have a similar habit of sleeping in until the sun’s shining directly into their faces and they’d have no choice but to wake up - that is, in the event that they forgot to shut the blinds.
“what are you doing up anyway?” you ask but it’s a no-brainer because every friday night, kim taehyung and you would never fail to release a week’s worth of pent up frustrations over playing video games until the crack of dawn, “don’t tell me you haven’t slept.”
“unlike some people, i’ve got things to do,” he steals away the bowl of cereal you just finished preparing for yourself, “places to be.”
you can’t even get mad at his brazenness, not when those eyebags make him look like he’ll pass out with one swing of your punch. and you do punch like a girl - besides the fact that you are one, it’s already a settled fact that you’re really not fond of the idea of wasting your energy on something pointless - so you tend to give the least amount of energy for, for instance - if you do choose to - punching kim taehyung who’s walking away with your bowl of cereal.
so you fix yourself a new bowl, savoring it while watching an episode of the tale of nine-tailed and spending the entire morning catching up to the latest episode. it’s only until half an hour past noon, do you strut back into seokjin’s room, noticing the lump under the sheets now shifting with a sign of wakefulness.
“morning!” you greet, hearing the sound of hymns trickling into chuckles as seokjin pushes the sheet off his face and steals a glance at the uncalled for being that’s perched on top of him.
“you’re up early,” he remarks, arms stretched over his head, muscles flexing deliciously.
“can we have morning sex?” you put on your best smile, lashes fluttering in what you hope to be a coquettish manner rather than someone who looks like they have dust in both their eyes.
“not today,” he says but his large hand latches on your right breast, massaging with a expertise before pinching on your nipple and making you jump in surprise.
“ah!”
but before you get to complain, he’s pulling you down and engulfing you into a warm but shirtless hug (on his part at least).
“not fair,” you pout but snuggle closer anyway, forehead leaning against his chest.
but it’s short-lived because thunderous footsteps start echoing in the hallway and sounding dangerously close with each passing second. for a split second, you watch seokjin watch you, panic spreading across his face before your hands instinctively push him away. then the panic dissolves into alarm as he calls your name, accompanied by another timber-like voice that’s shouting out the same syllables.
“___!”
and then your butt hits the ground, then your back and your head at the same time.
“whew chile, that sounds painful, you okay?” taehyung sounds concern, but he doesn’t take any step towards you to further assert your head - you could’ve had a concussion for all he knows!
“um, gee thanks for making sure,” you want to roll your eyes, but you’re too busy rubbing the spot where your head made contact with the floor.
but seokjin, ever the thoughtful person, is already climing over the bed and pulling you up with one heave.
“why are you shirtless?” taehyung suddenly inquires.
 the cozy creme sweater clinging onto your body feeling immensely inadequate as you ice up. he looks between you and his brother, screws twisting in that head of his before he asks another question.
“is that really my brother’s shirt?” his eyes scream concluded assumption.
well, it’s true, but-
“would you give me your sweater if i said i was cold?” you don’t give him a chance to respond, “no. right. so shut up. what do you want anyway? hurry up cause i wanna take a nap.”
“let’s play, the squad wanna go one more round with you before we all go to sleep,” he says, the matter of why seokjin is shirtless or if it’s really said man’s shirt you’re wearing now no longer a matter of importance.
you like how his brain works.
“the fuck? you came all the way here just for that?” you narrow your eyes, as if visually asking him if he knows whether he’s making sense or not but you get up anyway, walking towards your laptop that’s perched on the desk where you left it last night.
your friends greet you with less enthusiasm than they did last night - everyone sounded like they either need sleep or need a fuck. there’s no clear answer to what they need but you guess you’re up for one game.
“alright losers, let’s geddit.” your cheer is met with groans and tired version of ‘wooo’s and ‘yeah’s.
five minutes into the game, you feel a peck on your cheek and a smiling kim seokjin gazing down at you with bed hair and puffy cheeks. the smile you offer him back is fleeting because you have a character to maintain and a team to support. this time, you choose the supporting role while hoseok takes on the fighter role.
once you realize that the figure casting a shadow over you remains still and unmoving, you peek up at him for the briefest seconds to ask ‘what?’.
you’re only met with a higher tug of his lips.
and then he falls down on his knee - and you don’t even have the chance to wrap your head around it when he grabs hold of your ankle and spread your legs apart. lifting your ass up as he pulls down your shorts seem to be a muscle response than your brain actually understanding what’s happening. but by the time it does, seokjin’s face is already buried deep between your thighs.
“wah- yikes!” you manage to divert your surprise to the enemy that came on screen, forcing out a laugh, “th-that was a close one, whew i was about to die.”
“the fuck? you already had 8 hours of sleep what are you messing up for?” taehyung says into your headphone.
seokjin licking a strip up your love nub.
but that doesn’t stop you from retorting, “oh my god, did i tell you to play all night and not sl- sleep?” you bite back, barely managing to end your sentence with a consistent amount of sarcasm when the tip of seokjin’s tongue slips into your entrance.
“okay, okay, we’re all a little sensitive here,” jeongguk, the most competitive and non-losing-accepting out of the five of you actually tries to placate.
oh, you’re sensitive alright.
then he says something about how “we’re a team” and “if you wanna fight, fight the enemy team.” or something. you’re not so sure because you’re too busy clasping your hand against your mouth whilst trying to dish out healing powers to your team that’s fighting a few feet in front of you as seokjin tugs on your thighs, positioning them in an angle where his tongue can reach deeper inside you, so much so that your ass is almost hanging off the air.
“fine,” you almost choke on your supposedly vindictive reply as your toes begin to curl, back arching as the only sound that manages to escape you is a sob-like whimper whilst sparks erupt from the depth of your stomach and course through your veins like sweet, sweet poison.
seokjin kisses the inside of your thigh once your breathing slows down and you’re slumping on the chair like you have no energy left in you. jimin’s voice demanding you to cover for him barely registering in your brain as you click an ability that showers him with a protection spell.
“sorry, got distracted,” you say into the mic simply before hearing jimin’s “it’s okay, nobody died.”
literally.
if anyone of you died, it would’ve definitely been on you. last night, you got away with saying you weren’t in your ‘zone’ but today, your underperformance will be the reason you get kicked out of the squad for good. probably.
and because you’re under fire, you can’t stop seokjin when he slips away and out of the room, leaving you to make up for your mini blunder.
the game lasts a good 20 minutes before the golden symbol of victory flash across your screen and more energetic sheers erupt in your headphones. everyone starts bidding each other farewell and ‘good night losers’s before the headphones go quiet.
only then, do you bound down the hallway and into the kitchen where you know the reason of the sizzling, salivating scent is because of kim seokjin. a still shirtless kim seokjin with his beautiful, broad back on you as he chops something on the chopping board and gracefully pours it into whatever he’s cooking.
“that wasn’t fair - you should at least give me a warning,” you stand with your arms crossed over your chest.
“did the enemy you go against give you a warning before ambushing you?” he asks in a matter of factly, teasing smirk on his lips that makes your heart go flip flop.
he’s never smiled at you like that before.
“that’s- that’s different,” you refuse to back down, “they couldn’t even if they wanted to because the system doesn’t let us communicate with the enemy team.”
he nods whilst stirring the - you’d peeked - fried rice that’s sizzling in the pan, “i did give you a warning.”
“um where?” you can fee your eyebrows knitting together.
“the kiss,” he taps his cheek twice before shutting off the stove, devious smirk playing on his lips.
“i thought that was a bona fide peck!” 
“that’s on you,” he shrugs, pouring the fried rice into four plates, “like namjoon says - never assume.”
“okay, maybe he did say that,” you concur, taking a seat across from him where he places the plate and offers you a fork and a spoon that he took out from their respective drawers under the counter.
“something smells good,” taehyung comes popping out from the hallway, bowl of empty cereal in hand as his eyes light up at the sight of the two other plates placed between you and seokjin, almost as if knowing that the only other thing that coud summon the kim brothers out from their dwelling is seokjin’s cooking.
“i’m starving,” namjoon announces, seconds apart from taehyung’s assertion.
so you have breakfast - or lunch, really - together like you would. just four kids from the same hometown who found home in each other’s presence.
you might’ve found something else that you like in seokjin’s pants - but that’s besides the point.
x
note. and here we go for the 2nd installment! hope yall enjoyed!
taglist. @scalubera​ @aretha170​
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