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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 I || professor!helmut zemo x reader

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : history is so much more interesting when he’s teaching it. you’d better be careful before the two of you end up with a history of your own.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 6k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (incl. semi-public sex in an office and oral f receiving), significant age gap (reader is 20, zemo is 39; it isn’t actually mentioned though but it comes up in the next part), the slightest bit of angst?, nearly pwp at this point lol

You wouldn’t know it by the way you were enraptured with his lecture, but you weren’t even a history major.

Quite far from it, really, well outside of the college of liberal arts, and yet here you were in the front row, watching him gesture over a large map of Western Europe while he explained the sociocultural impacts of the Treaty of Versailles.

It was probably pretty obvious why you took such interest in all this, though. After all, you were the only one who dressed as well as he did, your blazers and skirts and loafers standing out amongst a sea of hoodies and sweats and flip-flops; and, you were the only one who paid close attention and yet never seemed to be taking any notes…

Why would you, after all? Looking away to write in your notebook would mean missing out on all the fun, and unfortunately you had found that when you copied down the words he spoke, his accent was not retained in writing.

Some kid in the back of the class had asked about his accent the first day; you thought it was kind of a rude question, if you were being honest, but he didn’t seem to mind too much (if perhaps a bit surprised that anyone cared). He explained he was from a small country called Sokovia, but that his accent was a bit unique since he spoke Russian, German, Spanish, and Italian as well.

Because of course he did. Like he was specifically designed to target all your weaknesses.

“Well, I could talk about that for the rest of the evening but I’ll spare you all and let you out a bit early today, how does that sound?” Professor Zemo offered. The other students weakly cheered, a few claps here and there as you heard binders shutting and backpacks being zipped, but you were disappointed. You didn’t want to go back to your dorm, all you were going to do there was think about him anyways.

Damn, I’ve really got it bad, you thought to yourself, shaking your head as you stood up and gathering your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You glanced up at the podium where another student was chatting with Professor Zemo, and either he said something really funny or she was trying way too hard to flirt with him. You rolled your eyes, irritated by the display and yet envious of her audacity to just go up there and talk to him. Imagine having a crush and actually being able to look them in the eye and hold a conversation; you could barely do that with people you didn’t happen to find attractive.

Just as you were about to make it out the door, you heard your name and spun around. You were shocked to realize it was the Professor trying to get your attention. If only you’d thought to pretend you hadn’t heard him.

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” he requested, motioning you over with two curled fingers. With a swallow and a nod, you stepped out of the flow of students exiting into the hallway and approached the desk at the front of the room.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I just wanted to discuss your most recent paper, if you have some time,” he explained, and your heart sunk. Of course it was garbage, you’d written the whole thing last minute during a near-all-nighter. “I still have the copy you turned in here in my bag.”

“Right, of course— sure,” you nodded. By now the classroom was empty spare for the two of you, your words echoing slightly; presumably that was intentional, since these places were built for acoustics, but it made you worry you’d have to hear whatever criticism he had for you multiple times.

He pulled out the slightly-wrinkled paper and took his glasses off of his vest to wear (fuck, did he have to wear the glasses, just to personally attack you?) as he glanced over the top page before folding it over the staple.

“This essay,” he continued, “it’s—”

Ridiculous. Idiotic. A blight on humanity and a waste of printer ink.

“Fascinating,” he finished, surprising you. “After I read it, I searched your student profile on my office computer—”

You gulped, trying not to take that as a compliment.

“I’m looking at your information and I’m seeing you aren’t even a history major— is this a mistake, when it says your major is computer science?”

“No, that’s my major,” you nodded.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he decided, “because you have some really interesting ideas in here, clearly you must have studied history before.”

“I mean, not really,” you shrugged. “I didn’t even care that much about history until, you know, you...r class,” you finished quickly, realizing it sounded too odd otherwise.

And that smile, the way he looked down at the floor suddenly, was he blushing? “Thank you. I’m always… glad to inspire.”

If only you knew everything you’d inspired in me, Professor.

“If you didn’t care about history, what would motivate you to register for an honors history seminar?” he asked suddenly.

“Well…” you trailed off, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck as you dodged his gaze.

“It couldn’t possibly be because I’m teaching it,” he realized.

“I came to your talk last year, the one you did about the Sokovian civil war,” you finally admitted, letting out a lungful of air as you said it and looking up at him sheepishly.

“Ah,” he nodded, “yes, that might make a bit more sense. But we still haven’t found the real reason, have we?” His eyebrow raised slightly and you felt like he was toying with you— but you liked it, the shiver that ran up your spine made that obvious. “Because the question remains of what would possess a computer science student to take time out of her busy schedule on a Friday night— if I recall the night correctly— to listen to some stuffy visiting scholar talk about a bloody war in a country she may not have even heard of before.”

“My friend brought me,” you defended.

“Under what guise?” he pressed.

“She… may have mentioned something about… a cute professor with a sexy accent…” you stammered, cringing slightly as you spared a glance back up at him. He was staring back at you with the most bewildering expression. His eyes said ‘you thought I was cute?’, and yet his smile said ‘I knew it.’

“You must’ve been horribly disappointed when I took the stage,” he finally replied, voice a bit lower, softer, not echoing around the room anymore.

“Not at all,” you returned, almost below your breath now, and suddenly you became very aware that you were standing too close to him, but you couldn’t move away, you couldn’t even look away anymore. “I’m here, aren’t I? Taking your class?”

“And you make it nearly impossible to focus, did you know that? I swear your eyes never leave me, I can feel them on me. It’s quite unfair, because I can’t stare back at you no matter how much I want to.”

Just as you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes, which seemed to be following a similar pattern on your own face, just when you thought this might be it and you were about to do something you really shouldn’t (but really wanted to), you heard the door open behind you and you spun around so fast you nearly hurt your neck.

“Oh,” the man in the doorway mumbled, apparently surprised to see you enough to nearly drop the papers tucked under his arm. “I’m teaching the next class in here— Honors History of Islam?”

“Professor Waters, yes, my apologies,” Zemo nodded, “we were just… our discussion ran a bit long, we’ll get out of your way.”

You and Zemo awkwardly gathered your things and made a dash for the door as the older professor took his place at the podium. Once the two of you were out in the hall, you let out a sigh and gave each other a glance, like you were each waiting for the other to either acknowledge or ignore what had just (almost) happened.

“I have my next class across campus in a half hour,” he remembered suddenly, lifting his arm and pulling back the brown sleeve of his coat to look at his watch.

“Right, you should… get to that,” you nodded.

“Walk with me?” he proposed, and you hoped your smile wasn’t as beaming as it felt.

“I’d love to.”

So maybe you ended up skipping your evening class to sit in the back of his History of England course. And, perhaps, he ended that one early, too, this time to buy you coffee at the student center; and your discussion ended up going on so long that the coffee shop closed and you had to go to his office to finish the conversation.

But, in a certain sense, it could be argued that you never really got a chance to finish that conversation after all… because a few moments after he shut the door to his office, you, for lack of a better term, jumped his bones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips as you pulled him closer by his jacket, “we can’t do this.”

You nodded, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “Mhm, yeah, you’re right,” you agreed breathlessly.

His hands took their place at your waist as you both stepped back, the back of your legs bumping into his desk which you jumped up slightly to sit on.

“I mean, we really can’t do this,” he continued, kissing your neck instead now while your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt riding up slightly, your fingers fumbling with the buttons on his collar. “I want to, overwhelmingly so, but we can’t.”

“I know,” you sighed; your head fell back when his teeth grazed over your pulse, and his hand was right there to catch it and hold it up, gripping the back of your neck.

“This absolutely cannot happen,” he groaned when your legs pulled him closer, something hard and hot pressing up against your thigh through his trousers and you were really hoping it wasn’t just his cell phone.

Then he rocked his hips, just barely, and you felt the outline of the ridge of his head and it was definitely not his phone unless he had the most suggestively-shaped phone case of all time. You gasped and grabbed his face to kiss him again, shamelessly desperate now, weaving your fingers into the hair just above the back of his neck.

By now you had managed to get a few of his buttons open so when you slid your fingers down from time to time, they ran over his chest and the patch of dark blonde hair there. Funny enough, you couldn’t remember having any strong opinions on chest hair before this afternoon, but now you felt your walls fluttering around nothing.

He helped you shed your blazer just before tossing his own coat aside, never breaking the kiss, holding your face gently while he pushed you down to lay on his desk— he reached behind you to clear a few stray papers out of the way first.

Your back hit the glossy wood and his weight pinned you down, rough hands sliding up your legs and under your skirt as you tried to push your hips up for more friction where you needed him most.

He pushed your hips back down, not too roughly but definitely enough to get your attention, before sliding his hands up your skirt again where he toyed with the hem of your panties.

You wanted to say something, more specifically you wanted to beg him to touch you, but you had this fear that if you spoke now it would all become real and he would stop because, as he had so poignantly noted, this can’t happen. And both of you knew that… so maybe it would be easier to let it happen if neither of you really acknowledged it.

Luckily, he didn’t tease you too long, reaching under the fabric and swiping the rough pads of his fingers over your slickened folds. You choked on your gasp, accidentally digging your nails into his shoulders when he drew delicate circles around your clit. All at once, he suddenly pushed those fingers right inside you and your back arched; you needed so much more than just his fingers but the way they twisted and curled against your walls was nearly perfect as well.

They didn’t stay long, quickly pulling back as you watched him quickly open his trousers just before you felt the head of him pushing up to your entrance.

His eyes met yours, dark with need, yet somehow clearly asking you for permission, making sure this was what you wanted: and fuck, you wanted it more than anything. The moment that you nodded, he began to push forward— slow and deliberate, but unyielding.

Perhaps as a perfect healthy college student in a male-dominated major, you had no real excuse for it to have been so long since you’d had sex. As you liked to put it: dating as a woman in computer science means the odds are good but the goods are odd. Truth be told, you weren’t sure at this point if having had sex any time in the past year would’ve prepared you for him anyway. It felt like he was forging a new path inside you— certainly a wider one than anyone else ever had since he was so thick.

With his hips fully seated against yours, the tip of his cock just reached the end of you, just barely brushed over those sensitive spots you didn’t even know you had before.

It stung a bit to be filled this thoroughly, so it was no wonder you were biting down on your lip hard enough to bruise it, your fingers clutching at his shirt tightly.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered, finally breaking the silence, voice strained like he was struggling just as much as you were (though in an entirely different way).

“A little,” you admitted. “Please don’t stop.”

He groaned a few curses as he started to move back, and forth, and so slow you could hardly stand it.

“Fuck,” you breathed, “oh my god, harder, please…”

A little smile crossed his face, a sharp exhale almost like a laugh, and it made your cheeks burn even hotter than they already were. But, he obeyed, regardless, more aggressive in his movements yet not any faster as he held your hips to keep you from sliding across the desk’s glossy wood surface.

Your moans were starting to echo around the office’s beige walls at this point, and he snarled as he bit down on your neck. “You need to stay quiet,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me? Can you stay quiet even when I’m making you feel so good?”

“I-I’m trying,” you whimpered, “your cock is… so deep…”

“Oh, I know,” he cooed, voice heavy with faux pity, “poor thing, you can’t take it?”

“No!” you yelped. “I can take it! Please, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t have to if you stay quiet, darling, we can’t have somebody hearing you now can we?” he chuckled, licking and sucking at your pulse point as your eyes rolled back in your head. “We can’t have somebody hearing you cry for me, and coming in here, and seeing you laying on my desk getting fucked by your professor, right?”

What the hell was wrong with you that that idea actually turned you on? Why did it actually make you want to moan louder until everyone could hear you?

And when his cock speared right against that spongy spot inside you, you did exactly that and he had to suddenly clamp his hand down over your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, “you’re going to get us both in trouble.”

Your attempts at apologies were totally incomprehensible with his hand over your mouth, not that they were likely to have made much sense either way.

Blinking your eyes shut, your legs began to quiver slightly as he rutted into you, your toes curling inside your loafers. You felt so full you could hardly stand it, stretched so wide that you were forced to feel every detail of his cock as it filled you. Already your walls were bearing down on him; you couldn’t help it, it was like your body was just his instrument now and instinct had taken control of your movements.

His accent was definitely stronger now as he whispered in your ear, praising you gruffly. You knew from the beginning that you loved high marks and encouragement from your teachers, but this… this was different, and you hadn't known how much it would affect you.

"Good girl," he breathed, "you're taking me so well, draga, you feel so perfect around me."

You whined from behind his hand and he chuckled at your obvious neediness.

"You like making me feel good, darling?" he presumed, his smile pressing against your neck between nipping kisses to your pulse point. "You like knowing that I can barely take this tight cunt gripping me so well, that I'm already addicted to your precious body and want to fill it with my seed?"

With your eyes rolling back in your head you nodded feverishly, heavy in your state of total delirium as he pumped his cock deep into you over and over.

You reached up to try to pull his hand away from your mouth, and he met your gaze with fire in his eyes.

“If I take my hand away, will you be good?” he challenged, and you nodded feverishly. He was a bit hesitant but slowly moved his hand down, and though you did have to keep biting your lip, you managed to restrain yourself.

Every drag of the ridge of his head inside you was somehow more intense than the last, somehow hitting right at your spot and it was like each rough thrust knocked his name out of your mind and onto your lips until you were chanting it like a prayer, or a plea.

And each time you said it, he fucked you harder, snarling and whispering your name back to you a few times, in between little praises; "Beautiful," he mumbled, "such a sweet little girl… such a perfect cunt."

“I— fuck, I’m gonna—” you stammered your warning.

“Will you come for me?” he finished for you, and you nodded quickly.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you hissed.

It was obvious just by the build-up that you were going to come hard, pleasure tightening in your core until you were sure that it would spill over but it just kept going, making you wonder if it would ever reach the breaking point.

And oh boy did it, it slammed into you in fact, and your legs quivered as you struggled for air. He growled in your ear, fucking you harder through it all, stroking every place that had only become even more sensitive. The moment you could form words again, you were wasting the ability on a string of swears and promises you couldn’t keep.

“Yours, fuck, it’s yours,” you sobbed. He chuckled a little, pulling back to examine your face which must have given away how fucked-out and cockdrunk you were already.

“Say it again,” he demanded darkly, holding you tighter, fucking you a bit more deliberately though not any less aggressively.

“Yours,” you gasped, cut off by a rough and dominating kiss. Your moans were lost to his tongue but he didn’t need them to know you were coming, the way your body gripped him tighter than ever was sign enough.

“So good,” he whispered against your lips, “you’re doing so good for me…”

His words washed over your skin and soothed you like a salve, bringing some relief from the overwhelming feelings his body was assaulting yours with.

All things considered, he was still moving rather slowly, each of his thrusts measured and patient, and never really changing speed even as you were coming around him. Weak little cries fell from your throat each time his hips met yours and the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of you.

Your body went limp in his arms and you hadn't noticed before how good it felt for him to hold you, for his strong hands to support you like it was nothing. His thumb gently stroked your back through your shirt and you mewled weakly into his shoulder.

"So good, draga, so fucking good," he mumbled, holding you closer.

"Please… faster," you whimpered, "I want you to come."

"Is that what you want?" he taunted, ignoring the way you nodded immediately. "You want to make me come, darling?"

"Yes, please, want it so much," you gasped.

He finally sped up, though it was still nothing like the lightning-speed jackhammering you were used to from guys your age: it was better, certainly, especially when he lifted your leg onto his shoulder and pushed so deep you saw stars.

The second one seemed to hit you all at once, almost out of nowhere, and you heard yourself mumble, “Professor, I’m coming.” It sounded a bit pitiful, the way you said it, but he apparently didn’t mind as you felt him nod encouragingly in the crook of your neck.

You felt totally drained by now, exhausted even though all you’d been doing was lying there and taking it, but you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. But, if the way his thrusts were becoming more desperate and erratic were anything to go by, he might be done with you soon.

"I'm going to come inside you," he groaned against your ear. You were, like, 99.9% sure that if you told him not to, he would pull out, but the way that he phrased it, like a demand, like you didn't have a choice and he would do it either way… it had an effect on you, one he noticed when your channel tightened around him instantly. "Oh, you like that idea, hm? You want to be full of my come? Your sweet little cunt is already trying to milk every drop from me."

"Yes," you breathed, "fuck, I want your come in me, please!"

He sped up quite a bit then, each slam of his hips into yours making you choke on a whine, your arms weakly clinging onto him for dear life.

You could feel his cock swelling, flexing, pushing your body to its limits as he moaned lowly through his teeth, streams of come making you feel warm and full.

He didn't stop until every drop was in you, thrusting in time with each pump of his release until he slowed to a stop.

Strands of hair fell into his face as he hung his head, panting hard and fast. You melted back onto the desk, realizing this might be the first time in a solid half hour your back wasn’t arched.

It was a bit of a struggle to keep your eyes open against the heavy fog of afterglow that filled your mind; you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so… satiated. As a college student, you were always thinking about the next assignment, mentally re-evaluating your calendar, or preparing for something— and usually all on less than six hours of sleep.

But now your mind was as close to a blank slate as it had been in at least a decade. Even though you probably should’ve been, you weren’t even thinking about the potential consequences of this, the implications, the risks. No, you were just staring up at him, thinking about kissing him again.

He would have to lean down for that, though; there was no way you were going to sit up now.

You hadn't even noticed that you had closed your eyes, almost falling asleep right there on his desk, until you felt his hand cradle your face softly, a calloused thumb rubbing over your cheek.

In unison, the both of you sighed deeply.

As much as it felt like a real effort, you blinked open your eyes and looked up at him, watching him comb his fingers through his hair. It only messed up the style even further yet he looked better than ever.

He slowly moved his hips back, leaving you annoyingly empty, and readjusted himself until he almost looked put together again… but his collar was still uneven and his lips still looked bitten and there was still that precious pinkish hue on his cheeks. If anyone else saw him in this state, they’d either know what happened between you two or think he’d just run across campus or something.

If anyone else saw him in this state, you’d be a little jealous, to be totally honest.

You got back to work trying to right your appearance as well, though you knew the best you could hope for was only mildly presentable; he looked at you like you’d never looked better, though.

“Well, this was fun,” you chuckled breathlessly, “but it’s getting pretty late and I have an eight a.m. tomorrow…”

“Yeah, so do I,” he nodded, glancing away.

You picked up your bag from where you’d dropped it by the door, lifting the strap over your shoulder and starting to turn to leave.

"I… I should walk you back to your dorm," he announced, making you smile.

"That's sweet, but save your chivalry. I can take care of myself just fine."

"But—"

"I think it's safer if we're not seen together walking together by my dorm," you interjected, "especially when I'm walking a little funny…"

"I hope I didn't hurt you," he winced sympathetically.

"No, trust me, that was… exactly what I needed," you breathed. He smiled a little, looking down at the floor.

"Then I'll see you in class," he nodded, watching you closely as you stepped back and picked up your bag, starting to leave his office with one last small wave goodbye. “Wait, wait!” he whispered harshly just before you could let go of his door, and you giggled as he leaned out into the hall and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.

When he confirmed the coast was clear, he smiled and grabbed your face with one hand, pulling you into a sudden kiss. And you smiled too— you couldn’t help it— as you kissed him back, almost ready for him to drag you back into that office and start this all over again. He did let you go, though, with one more whispered ‘goodnight’ and a look that made your heart do little somersaults.

As you finally did make your way back to your dorm, you tried to figure out if that was a goodbye kiss or a ‘see you soon’ kiss. Or maybe a ‘thanks for the one-time office quickie’ kiss? But you didn’t know enough about this sort of thing to know if that was even an option.

All you did know was that you really hoped it wasn’t the last kiss you’d have with him.

Can I speak to you in my office today after class? Thank you.

-Z

You may ask yourself: can one simple email, in only thirteen words, strike fear into the hearts of those who read it? And the answer is yes, assuming that email is from Professor Helmut Zemo and read by the lovestruck student who slept with him two days ago and hasn't stopped thinking about it since.

Only one of a few things could happen in his office after class, and there was a massive gap between the best and worst case scenarios. You dressed for the best but prepared yourself psychologically for the worst.

You caught him staring as you walked past the teaching podium to your seat in the front; you just hoped nobody else caught him. And if you'd thought paying attention in class was tough before, boy oh boy was it a challenge now. The nerves of what he wanted to discuss with you were bad enough alone, but that combined with memories from two days earlier randomly assaulting your psyche was just overwhelming.

When he pointed at the map with two fingers, you could remember exactly how those fingers had felt inside you, twisting and curling and getting you ready for his cock.

When he spoke, you could hear the difference in his voice compared to how he groaned out his praises while he was fucking you within a damn inch of your life.

And every once in a while, when he couldn’t help but glance at you for a moment, his gaze burned right through you; you were helpless to those brown eyes, completely paralyzed by them, and it must’ve been hours of that before class finally ended.

For the first time, you were the first person out the door when he released the class. As much as it was going to be a little bit weird to beat him to his office, it was certainly better than any of your other options. There was a chair in the hall beside the door, and you took a seat and pretended to read a book just to look busy (there was no way you could actually turn symbols on a page into readable language right now, not when you knew he’d be here any minute to talk about… something).

Your peripheral caught him coming down the hall, but you pretended to be deeply immersed in your book until he was right beside you, unlocking his door and opening it for you and himself. Tucking your book away and following him inside, you found him already staring at you, expression completely unreadable. Your gut sank in anticipation of whatever conversation this was going to become, and a moment passed in heavy silence.

"Hi," you greeted plainly, letting out a quick breath.

"Hi," he returned. "Close the door behind you."

You nodded and did as you were told, quietly pushing the wood back until the door latched before approaching where he had come to stand beside his desk. Though you didn't originally intend to, you found yourself standing a bit too close.

"I'm not quite sure where to start," he admitted, chuckling breathlessly as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. He looked cute flustered, which was a shame because his tone seemed to imply you needed to not be thinking about how cute he was. “Listen, you should know that what happened before… it was a mistake,” he sighed. “It can’t happen again.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked point-blank.

“It can’t happen again,” he repeated in lieu of a real answer, and you looked closely at his face; you didn’t find as much confidence there as you were looking for, it wasn’t the face of a man who knew he was making the right choice. You certainly didn’t think he was making the right choice.

“Why did you want to have this conversation alone in your office, then?” you challenged.

He cleared his throat slightly. “So no one would hear us.”

“Hear us talk?” you pressed. “Is that all?”

“That’s… definitely the plan,” he nodded, swallowing dryly. "Like I said, it was a mistake— my fault, not yours. And I just hope we can put it behind us respectfully."

“All the best mistakes are made at least twice,” you whispered, reaching up to trail your finger down his lapel. “Don’t you think?”

“Don’t do that,” he requested tensely.

"Do what?"

"That," he hissed. "Stop being… irresistible," he clarified, eyes darting from your lips to your finger to your eyes and back again. "A man can only take so much. I'm trying to do right by you."

"You already did when you fucked me that good," you smirked. "Nothing else could be as right as that."

Your fingers were just barely brushing over his belt when he grabbed you by the wrist. Jaw tight and eyes solemn, he shook his head.

You wrenched out of his grasp with a nod. It was worth a shot, but you didn't want to be that person who couldn't take no for an answer— so, you gave him a little smile and readjusted the strap of your bag. “Well, if it was just the once, then you should know that I’m still glad it happened. Even if it shouldn’t have.”

He nodded, strategically not speaking— but you knew he would agree, if he could.

“And if it’s any consolation to you now, you were the best I ever had.”

You reached for the doorknob, just starting to turn it and open your way out when he suddenly slammed it shut with a hand right above your head, making you gasp and spin around to look up at his dark gaze.

“Professor…” you whispered.

“The best you ever had?” he repeated, grinning proudly when you nodded. “Oh, sweetheart, I wasn’t even trying.” He leaned down to brush his lips against your ear as he whispered to you: “You don’t even know yet how good I can make you feel.”

A shiver ran up your spine; your tongue darted out to lick your lips. “Are you going to get on with it and show me?”

He didn’t even let you step away from the door, dropping to his knees right there and pushing up your skirt to kiss and bite your thighs. “Only if you ask very nicely,” he taunted with a brow raised in challenge.

“Please,” you breathed, “fuck, please, want you to taste me.”

His hands slid up your legs, grabbing the hem of your panties before sliding back down.

It wasn’t like you’d never been eaten out before, but this still felt like a first considering your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties were pulled down to your ankles, and even just one slow lick over your folds made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing.

“F-fuck,” you choked, reaching down to weave your fingers into his hair. He grinned against your skin and kept going, exploring you carefully before finally sucking on your swollen clit. Your knees threatened to buckle, your head fell back against the door so hard it almost hurt, but all you could really feel was his mouth on you, moving like he knew your body better than you did.

So it was no wonder, then, that you already began to spiral towards your release, legs shaking around his head as he devoured you mercilessly.

"Oh my god, I—" you tried to warn him, but he already knew, and he pulled back to wipe his mouth with his sleeve and stand up. He grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, stopping to whisper to you so close that his lips brushed against yours.

"I'm sorry, draga, but you've spoiled me… now that I've felt you come around my cock, I can't imagine making you come any other way. I need to feel your cunt grip me so fucking tight… it's all I've been thinking about since I last saw you," he admitted.

"I thought about it, too," you sighed. "I was up all night trying to make myself come as good as you did but I couldn't… your come was still leaking out of me."

He growled and leaned in to nip at your ear. "Oh, poor thing… I can imagine it so easily, you laying in your bed with your legs spread, fingers getting exhausted from playing with your little pussy too much, these perfect lips whining for me because you need me to take care of you."

"H-Helmut, please," you whimpered.

"Yeah, something like that," he smirked.

"I can't wait any more, just fuck me. Need you inside me," you breathed.

"Then bend over my desk."

{part 2}

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

The late Daniel Fenton

It was shaping up to be a beautiful if chilly December day and Casper High, as always, was bustling. It was 7:49 and class was about to start. The teacher watched the last few kids stumbling in at various levels of wakefulness. He already knew who would be the ones to rush in after the bell but that was alright. Life was too short to stress about being a few minutes late to class, especially in Amity Park of all places.

He looked up to see Madison, one of his shyer students walk in before making a beeline for his desk. She was biting her lip and nervously rubbing her hand down her skirt. “Hey,” she began quietly.

“Good morning. What’s up, Mads?” He asked casually. She looked upset, he could probably put on a video for the class if she needed to talk. They really needed a permanent counselor but the constant ghost attacks ran off most of them so he’d taken up the unofficial mantle. It felt good to help his students like that, make up for past wrongs.

“Are we um, expecting any new students?” She asked, her eyes darting over to the door she’d just come through. “Any transfers, exchange students or anything like that?”

“No,” the teacher frowned. “Amity isn’t the kind of place people transfer into. Why?”

“There’s a kid in the hallway,” she mumbled. “I don’t recognize him, he’s got a backpack and everything but he’s... I don’t know he doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh you’re talking about that weird dark haired kid,” Kyle said as he entered and sat down with a slouch. But even the class slacker looked unusually tense. “Dude’s creepy, can’t put my finger on why but he definitely doesn’t belong.”

“Oh,” was all the teacher had to say. Suddenly he realized how cold the classroom had become, the uncomfortable feeling that was pressing ever so slightly down on them. “I suppose it makes sense, the ghosts have been quiet lately with the Truce and all. He probably got bored.”

“Sir?” Madison said.

“Shannon,” he said instead, looking over at the frizzy haired girl hunched over her sketchbook furiously at work. “Would you do me a favor and move to the vacant seat in the second row? Just for today.”

“What? Why?” the girl whined even as she gathered up her various arts supplies and got ready to move.

“That’s Mr. Fenton’s seat,” he said taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes in preparation for what he was about to see. Danny would come here, of course he would. This was Lancer’s old classroom and Danny had him for first period English Lit. He and Dash both did.

“Mr. Baxter? What’s going on, is it a ghost?” Malik asked from the back row while Shannon shuffled to her new temporary seat.

“Yes but you don’t need to be scared,” he said softly, evenly. “He won’t hurt you.” The bell rang but Dash didn’t start the lesson. Instead, he waited. Danny had never been on time to class the entire time Dash had known him, of course death wouldn’t change that.

“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Lancer,” Dash gripped his desk so he didn’t jump when Danny Fenton simply appeared in front of his desk instead of walking through the door like any other student. “My folks couldn’t drive me, they’re still working on their stupid ghost portal.” A quick glance over at this class showed varying levels of fear, shock and curiosity but they were Amity kids through and through. The cold, powerful energy radiating off Fenton told them it was best to play along with whatever the ghost wanted.

“Perfectly alright Mr. Fenton,” Dash said softly, searching the 14 year old’s perpetually young face. He hadn’t changed a bit since Dash last saw him their second week of freshman year. It seemed unreal seeing how the years had taken their toll on Casper’s favorite son, Dash Baxter. God had they really been that young once? “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Danny shrugged and walked over to the seat Shannon had just vacated. He sat just the same, one leg stretched out and the other propped up against the leg of the desk. As soon as he took off the backpack and put it around the chair, it disappeared. He didn’t say anything else, just sat as stared at Dash with piercing blue eyes like he could see right through him.

“We had been talking about the lead up to the Civil War but let’s table that for today,” Dash said, proud his voice only wavered a little. He knew other people had seen Fenton around town. Lina saw him standing outside the Nasty Burger maybe five or so years ago. Dale, who used to live near Fenton Works swore he sometimes saw someone moving through the windows of the long abandoned house. He’d always secretly dreaded the thought of seeing Danny Fenton again, afraid he’d finally get was coming to him.

“Instead, we’re going to talk about local history,” he continued, not daring to take his eyes off the undead teen. Every other living student was tense, afraid. He wished he could assure them that the ghost wouldn’t lay a hand on them. In the event Fenton decided to ditch the hero schtick, it would be Dash and Dash alone he’d come after. “Amity Park has long had rumors of being haunted dating all the way back to the 1600s. It wasn’t until the last century that scientists determined that Amity Park is located on top of a thin spot between our world and the ghost realm. Natural portals form here all the time allowing spirits to pass through.”

No one spoke and barely anyone breathed except for Danny would wasn’t breathing at all. He just sat and stared at Dash with steady, unblinking eyes.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton were the scientists who discovered the weak point in reality in Amity. They devoted their entire life to the study of ghosts and made remarkable advancements in our knowledge of ectobiology and culture, the first being,” he paused as Danny cocked his head in confusion, squinting his eyes suspiciously at Dash. “The first being their manmade portal to the ghost zone. The portal remained active for almost two decades for research purposes but was shut down following their deaths.”

“You’re not Mr. Lancer,” Danny said suddenly, his eyes shifting from baby blue to an ectoplasmic green. Marty, who was sitting to the left of Danny, swallowed a squeak of fear and squeezed his eyes shut.

“No,” Dash sighed, “Lancer died almost thirty years ago now. Best teacher I ever had, he gave me his blessing when he passed on the job to me.”

“I,” the ghost ran his hand through his hair which was starting to lose its color. Seeing Fenton looking so scared and confused made him ache. It reminded him of old times. Dash had spent most of his life making sure he helped hurt kids if only to make up for the one he’d never been able to make it up to. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, Danny,” he soothed. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“The portal, it wasn’t working at first,” Danny justified, his aura glowing a little more. “Sam and Tuck, they were curious. They wanted to look but I told them it wasn’t allowed, Sam, Sam she dared me to go in. I put on the hazmat suit and went inside and found the on button inside. I accidentally hit it and-” he paused midsentence and looked down at his hands. They weren’t pale flesh anymore but covered in white gloves. The black was completely bleached from his hair. A few of the students gasped as they saw the strange would be student melt into Phantom, the ghostly hero who’d been protecting their town since their parents were young. “I died.”

So much time had gone by. People were born and people were buried and the truth became distorted until it was just a legend passed jokingly around cafeteria lunch tables. Amity’s youth had forgotten their town’s history until it was sitting in a desk, trying once more to be one of them.

“You did,” Dash said sadly. He remembered hearing the news of Fenton's death. An assembly had been called the morning after the accident. Lancer had cried at the podium, Manson and Foley hadn’t returned to school for a week and had never been the same again. Dash hadn’t known what to think at the time, only that the kid he’d beat up for the crime of being different would never show up to school again. Or so he’d thought. “It was a tragedy, you were mourned by a lot of people.”

“I know you, don’t I?” Danny said quietly before he sat up straighter. “Dash?”

“In the flesh,” Dash grinned shakily.

“But you’re so old,” Danny said, once more distressed. “Your hair is grey and there’s wrinkles on your face and-and you’re a teacher now?” The last line was said with incredulity, his eyes flaring again. “You used to push me down the stone steps of the school and shove me into my locker and call me names.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, feeling every one of his years. He was pushing 70 but he didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling like a stupid 14 year old who took out his frustrations on the ones who didn’t deserve it. “But you were the last; I never touched another kid again. I’m married now, four kids. I’m vice principal now, teach History and coach the school’s football team. It’s,” his voice caught again, still unable to process how young and stupid Fenton looked sitting there like no time had passed at all. It made Dash feel like all his accomplishments and attempts to be better would never amount to anything so long as his last victim roamed the earth unable to find peace. “It doesn’t fix what I did back then but I make damn sure that there won’t be any bullying at Casper so long as I’m here.”

“Huh,” Danny said, slouching once more in his seat but it looked less like his earlier teenage laziness and more weary. He and Dash were the same age after all, just because only one of them got old doesn’t mean time didn’t still affect them. “You did change, a lot of things did.” Danny looked down at the desk, “how long has it been?”

“Almost 50 years,” Dash sighed. “My wife wants me to retire but I guess I always find more things to do.” He paused then decided it was now or never. “I’m sorry Danny, for hurting you back then. I wish I'd gotten to know you better.”

For just a moment, Danny was perfectly clear. Even half floating out of his chair and looking like the local celebrity, his eyes were so painfully human. A boy killed before he ever got a chance to get started. Who’s will to protect was so strong it lasted half a century. It haunted him late at night to think of the glory and power of Phantom overshadowing just how incredible Danny Fenton had been. Not that anyone had seen it at the time. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone left to remember that quiet, kind teenager and then Danny Fenton really would be dead. Kill him just as thoroughly as that portal had.

The moment was broken by a breath of cold leaking out of the ghost’s lips and, just like that, his highschool classmate was gone and Phantom was left in his stead. He looked curiously around the classroom as if he didn’t know how he’d gotten there.

“There’s a ghost, stay here and don’t leave unless the fighting gets too close. I’ll get it though, don’t worry. No kids are dying today.” Maybe it was Dash’s imagination but he thought he saw Phantom’s eyes linger on him for an extra moment, trying to place where he knew the teacher from. Dash just smiled.

“Our lives are in your hands. Good luck, Phantom,” the ghost teen saluted before fading away entirely. Dash let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, suddenly exhausted but also lighter at the same time. It wasn’t every day you got to look your mistakes in the face and apologize. “Shannon, you can move back now.”

“No, I’m okay here,” Shannon said as she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook and looked intently at the spot where Fenton had once sat. “It’s like you said, that’s Danny’s seat.”

“I had no idea, Phantom’s been around for like, ever,” Freddie mumbled, pushing up his glasses. “But he used to be just like us.” And still was, Dash thought sadly. Danny would never grow old, never go to space like he’d always dreamed or marry Manson like he’d probably intended to. He was stuck, in more ways than one for who knows how long.

“Yes, that’s why it’s important to know your history. The Civil War and my other lessons are important but we can’t forget these smaller, more intimate histories. If we lose these lessons to time then we risk repeating the same mistakes over again.” He looked his students in the eyes, holding their attention.

“So we’ll continue today with the local history. Before he was ghost butt kicking superhero, Phantom was Danny Fenton, son of the local ghost hunters and a bit of an outcast in town. The Daniel Fenton Foundation was founded about a year after his death and was-”

#danny phantom #dead danny au #if bitch fartman won't redeem dash then I guess it up to me #god can you imagine growing up and growing old only to look at your past victim in the eye and see nothing has changed for him?#i could go on and on about what other characters got up to #but this is about the tragedy of the loss of Danny Fenton #not only his life but his memory #time moves on and Fenton got lost in the mix #once Dash's generation dies then Fenton will just be a cautionary tale #a ghost story #No one will remember that their hero was one long before he got his powers #god Im fuckign sad now #eat up and enjoy your angst

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moxfirefly · 3 years

Note

Ssssooooo I'm gonna keep the "only one bed" trope train and ask for it with maybe Heisenberg? I know you're obsessed with him dont even deny it uwu

*vibrates excitedly* oh BOY!!!!! Thank you Dia, you always gimme the prompts my little heart wants. Shout out to @akumaalert I hope you don’t mind but I wanted to include Karl’s powers being on the fritz due to, sensations, and that wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for your brilliance!

I’m going off the friggin rails here so,

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

There was a voice in the back of your head that sounded too much like your mother.

It kept yelling at you that this was unsavory, that this wasn’t modest of you and your teachings. Who were you to lie with a man? A man you weren’t bound to, a Lord on top of it. All those sinful talks in the big black book circled your mind like vultures.

But he had offered, no?

It was pouring out after all, a big bad storm complete with thunder and gusts of wind that would’ve blown you away probably.

The nature of this friendship? Complicated, very very complicated. You had racked your brain over it as you had buttoned up one of his shirts and climbed into his bed just as another clap of thunder sounded. It made you scurry, somewhat not as elegantly as you may have liked but nevertheless it didn’t stop him from laughing at you.

For such a large factory it only housed one bedroom which just so happened to be his own. He had every intention of sleeping somewhere else, some way, but you had insisted that it wasn’t fair. The storm wasn’t his fault or your own, the living accommodations weren’t either.

So here you were.

In bed with Karl Heisenberg.

Falling a sleep had proven quite difficult, the insistent slide of pencil on paper, the storm and its monstrous sounds. There was a distant revving of something you couldn’t quite name.

You turned to face Heisenberg with every intention of passing the time.

Or at least to help yourself to ogling him.

Your mother voice rang again.

Unsavory, so unsavory.

But he was there, shirtless, sturdy, muscle in his arms and missing those damned shades for once. Whatever he was scribbling had his undivided attention, as you snuck a glance you saw drawings instead of words.

He could draw?

Rather good too.

“What is that?” You tried to lift your gaze but a large hand fell on the page to obscure your snooping. “Nothing, just ideas” He flipped the page, the white of it begging for ink.

“My apologies… I didn’t know you could draw though” He could still see curiosity adorned in your gaze, a noticeable silence falling as your stared up at him. You wanted something, that’s all he could tell.

“…What do you want me to draw?” He huffed out, even if you excitedly sat up in bed and rested against the headboard with a big smile. “Hmm, surprise me or maybe draw me?” You chuckled but went quiet when you watched him scoot down to the end of the bed onto his side. He flipped open the note book again and squinted at you.

“How opposed are you to taking your clothes off?” He smirked and in turn you rolled your eyes.

“Depends, let’s see how well you draw me first” You shot back with every intent of dishing out what he was. Heisenberg chuckled before picking up the pen to start on the newest blank page. “You better keep your mouth shut about this, don’t want villagers lining up to get my works of art” His movements seemed almost mechanical, eyes occasionally lifting to meet you as he did. “There’s enough pictures of your mother in everyone’s homes, hm?” You watched his eyes roll again but he remained silent, he stole another glance at you, eyes roaming your chest now.

Something about that made your skin warm, a nice blush found itself onto your cheeks.

“You draw everyone woman you get into bed?” You asked rather quietly, the small pin prick of jealousy manifesting in your fingertips.

“No, much to your surprise I don’t have all the women of this village in here for sleepovers” His gaze fell to your now exposed legs and the urge to cover them increased but he was quick to tap the end of his pen on your approaching hands. “Stop moving,” He returned to the notebook with a concentrated chew on the inside of his cheeks. The strands of silvery hair fell in front of his eyes and you wished that maybe you too possessed the ability to draw and capture him.

He was handsome.

Those pesky sinful thoughts found you again and with that came the urge to do something about it.

“You better fucking like it, this is reserved for projects after all” He let the pen rest on the bed and flipped the note book towards you.

Your eyes went wide.

It was a sketch, not polished but there in the scribbly lines of black was your face and your body. The messy details perfectly representing you. Your drawn eyes stood out to you, the slight fall of his shirt on your shoulder stood out to you, the way he took more time to detail your legs stood out to you.

“Is that stunned silence? It’s shit isn’t it?” He glared at the page, eyeing up all its faults but you were quick to move and shake your head. “It’s not shit! I’m just- Karl this is beautiful, you’re talented” You observed the image again, a small crinkle at the corners of your mouth.

“I’d ask to keep it but-“ He took the notebook back, not relenting even as you pouted. “Nope, I like this, all I usually have on here is ugly inventions” And corpses, he obviously left that out. He continued to admire the drawing before he grinned, letting hazel eyes fall on you from above the notebook. “Well?” He simply asked and you knew.

“Might come back here for the nude study if you’re going to make me look this nice” You shamelessly flirted back. Heisenberg laughed, a true sound with not ill intentions. “Well I’m sure arrangements can be made” He closed the note book but his eyes soon found your own, close enough that he could smell the oils that had touched your skin this evening. With a bite to your lower lip and a steadying beat of your heart you leaned in close to him. Heisenberg’s lips pursed momentarily, the anticipation of your lips coming down on his own making something electric pulse inside of him.

But you stopped, an inch away from his lips.

His brows furrowed at being denied and that fact that you found that so endearing made you muffle a laugh between your tight lip smile.

Of course, he had to make you shudder, rub his knuckles across your cheek and dig his fingers into he back of your head. “What, pup?” His voice was barely a whisper, the sounds vibrating against your bottom lip and chin. The gentle nudge to close the distance left you breathless.

His lips were surprisingly soft, the scar noticeable against your lips but the bumpy tissue only served to make you melt against him. It was short, several gentle touches that made you shiver as you felt his nails scratch into your scalp.

Pressing your forehead to his own you sighed, want was there and he could feel it, taste it against your lips, feel it in the shiver on your flesh. A small zap hit your skin and the small yelp that escaped you only served to make him chuckle. “Did you just- was that electricity?” Your skin felt prickly suddenly, he only grinned more like a mad dog. Heisenberg wrapped an arm around your waist and yanked you beneath him, the series of shrieks you let out only making him laugh more. “You can be such a beast” They way your hands landed on his bare chest to smack him was short lived.

Some retaliation was to be had. So you scratched your nails down his body before landing on his waist. The tremble of his arms as he held himself above you made you smile. With a gentle nudge of your knee you trapped him in between your legs, pulling him down onto you by his waist. He huffed, hair falling and obscuring his heated gaze. It was instinct, to wrap your arms around him and feel his so warm and soft and strong against you. The scratchiness of his beard was felt at your neck, along with that his teeth meeting warm skin.

He sucked a bruise onto your neck with a roll of his hips.

“Do you want me?” He grumbled against your pulse, tongue soothing the bruise.

You nodded, digging your nails into his waist before dragging them up his back.

“No, no, pup” He nosed your ear, teeth finding your lobe with a gentle tug. “I need to hear it, use your words” It was almost a purr, enough to goosebump your skin and lift your hips.

“Want you, want you so much, please…” You exposed your neck more for him, felt his lips find your throat. “Good pup” His hands found the neck of the shirt and with one fluid motion you heard and felt all the buttons pop off. He pulled it apart to reveal your chest, he hummed at the sight before him. “Now I should draw this some day” His grin made your cheeks flush again, even more so when he pressed his face against your chest, a rub of his cheek scratching your soft skin.

Lips pressed, tongue drawing patterns as you muffled a whine and grabbed his hair and gave it a gentle tug. “Ka-oh god!” A particular hard bite at your ribs made you grip silver locks with more intention. He groaned at the rough handling of his hair, the strain on his neck as you tugged hard enough that he could see your pupils blown wide for him.

When Heisenberg leaned back, allowed space between both your heated skins, you ached.

Visibly ached.

You followed those talented scarred hands to the front of his trousers, watched as he unbuttoned them slowly. But you couldn’t stay away too long, fingers itched to feel him, to touch every part of him and find out what made him tick. You unrolled what was left of your his shirt and tossed it somewhere off the bed. When he saw your hands go between your legs he palmed himself at the sight of it.

“You want your hand, mhm? Or would you much rather prefer my cock?” He emphasized with a tight squeeze of his hardened length and wordless you replied by removing your hand and reaching for him once more. Ever the asshole, he gripped your hand away and raised his brows, he wanted those verbal answers.

Bastard.

“Your cock, please” Intertwining your fingers with his own you gently brought him back down to you for a long and sensual kiss. Against those lips you whispered, “Inside, want you inside now” just as another clap of thunder hit.

There were more clothes gone, scattered across the room unwanted and unneeded. Heisenberg had every intention of feeling you come apart around him when he entered you slowly. Each hiccuped whine shooting your arms more tightly around him, pressing him down closer to you. The heat he was already exuding was making you break out in a sweat, you felt his hands slide beneath you with a groan the further his slid into you.

He was buried to the hilt, tight heat so perfect he growl against the bruised flesh of your neck. “Fucking good little pup, taking me so good” His filthy words fell against your ear, short but pronounced thrusts making you dig your nails onto his back. “Yesss, don’t be afraid, don’t break so easily baby” Heisenberg leaned his head as far as he could to catch your gaze in all its lust blown glory. He kissed you again, more ferocity, more purpose, all tongues and teeth and demanding bites. The heels of your feet rested at his back side encouraging him deep into you with every thrust he delivered.

Being at the end of the bed doing this felt weirdly interesting, each thrust he gave you made the bed creak, lean away from the wall just a bit, it’s increasing squeak joining the chorus of the storm.

When you dragged your nails down his back, right towards his rear and gripped and moaned loud enough to have him shake, you saw something lift from the corner of your eye. You eyes squinted at the spoon suddenly mid air, you weren’t unaware of his gifts but why was he-

You train of thought was lost to you when he angled his thrusts just the right way to hit your sweetest of spots, every possible question was being tried and language had fallen at the bottom of your list of abilities. You arched into him, neck on display for his teeth to once again find, that tight hold on his rear remained and he seemed to really enjoy it by the sounds and sensations of his heated grunts. “Puppyyy, such a good pup, could stay buried in this hole all week” Oh you would let him, you wanted him in fact, why go back to the village, you’d rather put your days on this bed.

No matter how many dangerous items kept floating about, no matter how his skin felt almost electric as he thrusted into you more feverishly, this is what you wanted.

You wanted him.

“Then do it, oh god just do it please!” He hooked his arms beneath your knees and locked you beneath him either every intention of making your moans louder than the rain. Heisenberg unceremoniously pounded you, every hit making your toes curl and your voice choke up. “Gonna fuck a mess into you, you want it? Mhm?” Dangerous dangerous dangerous!

But you did.

Whimpered a series of broken yes yes yes, at his ear. The bruising hold proved necessarily, you felt your legs shake and stiffen all at once, heard several things sort of just go pop! It dawned on you that it had been the lights but that couldn’t have been the storm-

Your orgasm snuck up on you, quite literally hit you smack in the gut with Heisenberg at his tail end as well, it must’ve been seconds apart from one another. He moaned right against your ear, hips drilling into you with every intention of making you lose your god damn mind. Several objects clattered around you, startling you and in the process making you hold onto him.

His amused chuckle came out in breathless pants, the now darkened room only having a lone candle as the source of light. He gave your hip a gentle tap, “It’s okay, just shit that happens” He sounded somewhat sheepish as you both still panted. You reached up and cupped his sweaty cheek, fingers mapping a crias crossed scar. Here in the dimly lit room he still managed to be the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

You wanted him again.

Wanted all the madness that came with him.

You pulled him down again to show him just that as you kissed him.

#ask #dianounais #re8 village #re8 #resident evil 8 #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heisenberg x reader #re8 heisenberg #re8 karl heisenberg #karl Heisenberg #Heisenberg #lord heisenberg x reader #lord heisenberg #fanfic tropes #ns*w

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a-simple-gaywitch · 3 years

Text

Locked Out

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer gets locked out of his hotel room in his rush to talk to you, and overhears a conversation he was never meant to hear. Word Count: 1182 Warnings: None, I think? A/N: this is more of a blurb than a full fic, but I saw this gif and it gave me this idea

“More the hurry, more the obstacles.” -Welsh Proverb

You were sipping your crappy motel coffee and reviewing the case files when there was a knock on your door. You opened it to see Spencer Reid.

Your best friend.

In nothing but a tiny pink towel.

“Hey,” he said, clearly out of breath. “I had a breakthrough about the case.”

You cleared your head and looked at Spencer’s face. “And the reason you’re in a towel…?”

“Oh, I thought of it in the shower and needed to tell you right away.”

“You didn’t have time to put clothes on?” He shook his head and you said, “Okay, well get in here before someone we don’t know sees you.”

“Thanks. Okay, so I was thinking about the connection between the victims and-”

“Spence, I’d love to hear your thoughts but I’m concerned about that washcloth around your waist.” You dug through your go-bag and grabbed a pair of old sweats you’d stolen from your dad for sleep pants. “Put these on.”

After you turned around and covered your eyes, Spencer started explaining. “I was thinking about how there’s no obvious connection, such as appearance or age. You can turn around now.”

You turned back around. “And?”

“I had Garcia do a little digging. At first it looks like they’re victims of choice, but that doesn’t account for how they were killed in their homes.”

“So there must have been some other common factor. The geographic profile is too spread out for it to be the school district and all the women worked different jobs all over town.”

“Exactly. But Garcia looked at their credit card records for me.”

“What did she find?”

“They all went to the same salon within a month of their deaths. But they all went for different treatments. Emily Green went for a nail art treatment, Jody Summerfield went to get her hair dyed, Regina Allen got her eyebrows waxed, and Vanessa Lang went for um…” Spencer’s face turned as pink as the towel he was still holding. He cleared his throat, “She went for something called vaginal steaming.”

“So the salon is the common factor,” you said, choosing to ignore the awkwardness that Spencer was exuding. “Did they go on similar days or at similar times?”

“That’s the thing,” he said, going over to the desk where you’d put the files. “The only commonality is the salon. None of the employees overlapped and they all went at different times of day.”

You hummed, looking at the crime scene photos. “Maybe we should talk to the rest of the team, see what they think.”

Spencer nodded. “Yeah. We can go to the station and-” He stopped.

“What?”

“I left my key in my room. I locked myself out.”

“What?”

“I locked myself out of my room. God!” He flopped down onto your bed. “I’m an idiot.”

“Hey, Spence,” you said, getting his attention .”Breathe. It’s okay. I’ll go to the office and get a spare, okay?”

He smiled at you. “You’re my savior.”

You scoffed, trying to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Sure. I’ll be right back.” You grabbed your keys and a jacket before walking across the dingy motel parking lot to the office. After grabbing a spare key from the bored teenager at the desk, you headed back to your room. Before you got to the door, you ran into Morgan.

“Hey, Pretty Girl,” he said. “So, I noticed Reid sneaking into your room earlier. You finally decide to bone down?”

You punched his muscled shoulder. “Shut up, Morgan!” you hissed, your face flushing. “No, that’s not what happened. And that’s not going to happen.”

“Come on, (Y/N), we all see the way you look at him. We all know you love him.”

“He’s my best friend, Derek. I can’t screw that up because I have feelings he doesn’t. I can’t lose him.”

“So, you’d rather live in the misery of not knowing?”

“If it means I don’t lose him? Absolutely.”

Little did you know, Spencer heard the entire conversation you’d had with Derek. And he had been madly in love with you since you joined the team.

He knew you didn’t want to mess up your relationship with him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t let you know how he felt.

When the team got to the station to meet with the local officers, he brought you coffee- not crappy precinct coffee, but good, expensive coffee-shop coffee, made exactly to your liking. When he noticed you shivering in the cold of mid-November, he pulled off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. When you lost your favorite pen, Spencer went out to the nearest office supply store and bought you a box full of replacement pens.

After the case was closed and the team boarded the jet to fly home, you decided to ask Spencer why he was being so generous over the past few days. After the rest of the team fell asleep, you sat next to Spencer on the sofa, tucking your legs up under your body.

He smiled at you, setting his book on his lap. “Hey.” When you stayed silent, just looking at him, he said, “What are you thinking?”

Spencer knew your mind better than anyone. You were his other half, the two of you being connected on a level no one else could match.

“You’ve been weird,” you finally said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“The $5 coffees, the new box of pens. What’s going on with you?”

He looked over the jet to double-check everyone was asleep. “I, uh, I heard you and Morgan talking outside the motel.”

Your face drained of color. “Spence, I-”

“(Y/N), please,” he said, cutting you off. “I know what you’re going to say, and you don’t need to say it.” He took your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. You watched his hands, not wanting to meet his gaze. “I love you too, (Y/N),” he said, his voice just above a whisper. “As so much more than a friend. And the idea of you being miserable hurt me. It physically causes me pain. You understand me in a way no one else does. I fell for you the first time I ever heard your laugh. I never told you because, well, because I had the same thoughts you had.” He squeezed your hand. “I never want to lose you, (Y/N). I love you.”

You smiled, your eyes welled with tears. “I love you too, Spence.”

“Well, it’s about damn time!” Morgan said as the rest of the team started clapping.

You felt your face heat up and you hid your face in Spencer’s chest.

“None of you were actually asleep?” Spencer asked, his eyes wide.

“No, we wanted to see if the two of you would finally own up to your feelings,” Emily said. “It was getting painful to watch.”

You just held up your hand that wasn’t laced with Spencer’s, flipping the team off.

“Vulnerability is the only bridge to connection.” - Brené Brown

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #x reader #em's fics

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

When The Music's Not Forgotten PT. 1

Green Lantern!Reader x Lantern Family Story!

Word Count: 5.3K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes, Violence

Author's Note: I legit had a breakdown trying to think about what to label this fic as. Almost put 'Batsis' but then I realized it's not Batsis nor Lantern!Sis so I was like...uh...what do I do? We'll figure it out. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Her first thought when she opened the front door to the Coast City apartment and saw her dad in a headlock by Kyle and Kyle in a headlock by Guy who was in one by John, who was in one by her dad, was: this is totally and completely normal.

The second thought: that nothing involving her father and uncles ever surprised her anymore, occurred to her as said father and said uncles stopped arguing with one another and cocked their heads up, looking at her, each of their faces exhibiting the epitome of “I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar” shock, in which she merely returned with a blank stare before closing the door behind her, marching into the kitchen with the grocery bags.

Of course, that also meant the second she did, they were stumbling in to explain what had brought them to the unfortunate moment of head-locking each other, but also to see what she’d bought and what she was going to cook for dinner. She paid them no mind, ducking under arms and between bodies as she maneuvered around them kitchen, putting things away.

Someone curled an arm around her neck, pressing their lips to her temple. “Hey Raptor.”

She smiled. “Hey dad.” Tossing a beer behind her, she added, “Uncle Guy. Uncle John. Kyle.”

Guy caught his beer, popping the tab, and Kyle looked at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come everyone else is ‘uncle’ and I’m not?” he looked hurt. “Am I somehow different, (Y/N)?”

She paused and threw another beer behind her. “Kyle, were almost the same age. I’m not calling you my uncle because John and Guy are older than both of us.”

“Not that much,” he griped, popping his beer tab. “It still hurts my feelings.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and handed John the final beer. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I considered you to be my favorite cousin?”

Kyle smiled at her. “Yes, it would.”

She nodded then glanced at Hal. “Dad, tacos or burgers?”

“I dunno.” He said, glancing at the others. “You guys?”

“Burgers.”

“Tacos.”

“Burgers.”

She cocked a brow and looked at her father. “Seems like you’ll either make a tie or a win.”

“I have been thinking about good tacos, Raptor,” he replied, and she nodded.

“Tacos it is.” Guy and John groaned, and she shot them a glare. “Hey! Lock that shit up or I’m not cookin’.” Immediately they shut their mouths, listening to Kyle and Hal snicker. “Buncha children.” She griped, dumping the ground beef into a skillet to brown.

“So, (Y/N),” Guy drawled, leaning against the kitchen counter. And honestly, the entire kitchen was way too small for four grown men and a grown woman to be in at one time, but she’d gotten used to it, so why fix what wasn’t broke.

“So, Uncle Guy.” She repeated, shifting the meat around with the spatula.

“Why exactly did you start working at the Wayne Enterprises branch here?”

She could feel the eyes of her family on her back, and she couldn’t help but roll hers. “Maybe because Mister Wayne pays good salaries to his employees and his health insurance coverage is fantastic?” (Y/N) glanced over her shoulder. “But something tells me you’re asking for another answer.”

He grinned. “Which son of Wayne’s are you dating?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes again. “I love you, but you’re an idiot.” She turned back to the pan. “I’m not dating any of his sons. Dick’s with Koriand’r, Jason’s a douche-bag, and their brothers are way too young.”

“Doesn’t he have a daughter?”

“Cass is dating a girl she goes to college with.” She took an onion from the basket against the kitchen wall atop the counter. “Keep digging though, Uncle Guy. You’ll hit rock bottom soon enough.”

“Does that mean you’re dating the big Bat?”

She almost cried from laughter as Hal choked on his beer and spluttered. “No. I’m not dating Mister Wayne. He’s old enough to be my dad.”

John chuckled. “I don’t know, (Y/N). When you first met Bruce at, what? Ten? You told him you were going to marry him.”

Her cheeks burned and she scowled at them. “I meant Batman because he was kind-hearted, and I was totally awestruck as a little girl. Let it go.” Her eyes fell on Hal. “Dad, tell ‘em to let it go.”

He nodded. “Please let it go.” Kyle started humming ‘Here Comes the Bride’ and while the others snickered, Hal screwed his eyes shut. “Oh God, stop. I don’t want to think about my precious baby anywhere near that anal retentive kitchen scale.”

The other snickered and before she could say anything, their rings started beeping. She looked at them as their faces turned solemn, setting their beers down as their suits flashed to life.

“Trouble on Oa,” John said.

“Gotta fly?” she asked, and Hal nodded, leaning over to kiss her temple.

“Gotta fly, Raptor.” He hugged her quickly and followed John and the others to the balcony. “I love you.”

“I love you too, dad.” (Y/N) waved. “Be careful, Corpsmen.” They all waved at her and took off, leaving her in the apartment alone and she sighed, turning back to the kitchen. “Another dinner…alone.” She couldn’t help but deflate. “Wonderful.”

***

She continued cooking for almost an hour when the balcony doors opened and closed, and she smiled. “Hey guys. You’re back rather early.” When she didn’t hear a response, she immediately fell on guard and she took one of the kitchen knives from its holder, brandishing it.

Carefully, she walked into the dimly lit living room, eyes scanning the expanse for whoever was in the apartment with her. None of the floorboards were creaking, no rustling of fabric or scuffing of shoes. It was completely silent, and that made her nervous.

Stay calm. The worst thing you can do in a situation when you need to be calm is to be panicked. Slow breaths. Keep focused.

She repeated his words in her head and shifted around the hallway wall, eyes peeled for trouble.

Small steps when sweeping buildings. If an enemy rounds a corner and it comes to close combat, you’ll want to be able to hit them and taking big steps causes instability.

(Y/N) crept down the hall and came upon the bathroom just beside her father’s bedroom door. Quickly, she peeked in, seeing it empty, then cross the doorway, pausing beside her father’s door. She inhaled deeply, then turned her head around the corner, seeing it empty and dark. The only room left was hers.

She crossed to the other side of the wall and hurried down to her door, and with another sharp breath, she turned and looked in. Again, it was empty. Confusion bled through her as she returned to the living room, the hand holding the knife lowered beside her thigh.

“That’s strange.” She murmured. “I thought I—”

“Heard something?”

She gasped and spun around, bringing the knife up, but they caught it with ease, squeezing her wrist until she cried in pain and dropped it. (Y/N) heard the clattering in her ears as they grabbed her other hand and shoved her down into the couch.

She started thrashing wildly, about to scream when she heard, “I thought I told you not to turn your back on people.”

(Y/N) stilled and turned her head, catching that stupidly smart smirk. “You fucker.” She cursed at him, torn between laughing hysterically and cursing some more. “I can’t believe you turned this into a lesson.”

He shrugged. “Had to know if you were learning any better.” Smiling at her, he quipped, “Your sweeping is great. Detection skills? Not so much.”

“Let me up, Jason.” she commanded, rolling her eyes and he snorted, letting go of her arms. Immediately, she spun and cocked her elbow into his jaw, smiling as he grunted in pain and grabbed it.

“Damn,” he hissed. “You’ve got elbowing down to an art.”

She grinned. “I’ve had a good teacher.”

They stared on another down for a moment, then all at once, they were yanking at shirts and unbuckling belts, grabbing each other, and tugging closer to one another as their lips met in a searing kiss.

(Y/N) shoved at the jacket on his shoulders, moving her lips to his jaw and he groaned, taking his hands from her hips for just a moment to pull the article off. He shifted out of reach, and she glanced towards the kitchen.

“I turned the oven off,” Jason muttered, yanking his crimson shirt over his head. “Figured we’d be too busy to eat dinner.”

She giggled and shoved him off the couch, watching as he scrambled to his feet; she stood and started pulling off her own clothes, first her shirt, then her bra and Jason almost collapsed at her feet when she tugged her pants to her ankles.

“C’mon, Jay, don’t be shy.” (Y/N) cooed. “Show me what you’ve got.”

He chuckled, and unbuckled his belt, letting it fall to the floor as he back-stepped down the hallway. “Oh, you want a show, Miss Jordan?”

She smirked at him and stuck her thumbs in the sides of her thong. “I’d love a show, Mister Todd.”

“I might made you beg a little for it,” he shot back coolly, toeing off his combat boots and she hummed.

“I will if you will.” (Y/N) said, watching his hands unbutton the charcoal-colored utility pants he wore.

“My eyes are up here.” Jason quipped, though he didn’t seem to stop as he shoved his pants down, leaving him in his boxers, and he hit her doorway.

“True, but my attention is elsewhere.” She drew her eyes up his toned body, internally smirking as he seemed to shiver under her gaze, and she pushed her thong down her legs. (Y/N) stood before him and reached out, placing her hands flat on his chest. He was so hot underneath her palms and she slowly rubbed her hands up to the sides of his neck.

“(Y/N),” he murmured huskily, arms winding around her waist, and she smirked.

“Take me to bed, Jason.”

Immediately, he bent down and grabbed the back of her thighs, digging his fingers in until she lifted and wrapped her arms around his waist. “With pleasure,” he purred.

***

By the time Hal and the other lanterns got back to the apartment, it was well into the morning, and he could tell that everyone just wanted to crash in exhaustion, too tired to even think about flying to their own homes.

He opened the balcony doors and let them inside. “Lemme get some blankets from the hall closet,” he muttered, voice as ragged as his body felt.

“Who the hell played strip poker in here?”

Hal looked up at Guy who was holding up a crimson t-shirt with a baffled expression. “What?”

Guy met his gaze then nodded down the hall. “Someone’s been tangoing.”

When he craned his neck to peek down the hallway, sure enough there was a trail of clothing leading down to her room. His eyes went wide, and he suddenly forgot about his exhaustion as he leaped over the couch and sprinted down the hall, the other Lanterns hot on his heels.

Hal skidded to a stop in her doorway and immediately screeched, “(Y/N) JORDAN WHO THE HELL IS IN YOUR BED?!”

The two young adults in the bed startled up, and she held the sheet to her chest as she gaped at her father. “Dad! You—you’re here!”

He gestured wildly. “OF COURSE, I’M HERE! I FUCKING LIVE HERE! WHO THE FUCK IS IN YOUR BED?!”

“Morning, Hal,” Jason greeted, with a mock salute. “How’s your day so far?”

“MY DAY?!” he bellowed, already starting for the young man, and John was quick to grab Hal around the waist. “LET GO! I’M GOING TO MURDER THIS SON OF A BAT FOR CORRUPTING MY DAUGHTER!”

“Excuse me,” Jason said, rather affronted, then pointed at her. “It’s (Y/N) who’s corrupted me.”

(Y/N) barely had time to hide her snort as she elbowed him in the side. “Shut the hell up.” She cleared her throat and looked at the men in her doorway. “Uh…can you close the door so I can get dressed?”

“CLOSE THE DOOR?! I’M GOING TO TAKE THE DOOR OFF ITS HINGES! YOU ARE GROUNDED, (Y/N) JORDAN DO YOU HEAR ME! YOU ARE—”

Guy and John dragged Hal off and Kyle shut the door but threw a thumbs up at Jason before he left.

***Part Two***

She tried to look anywhere but her father’s face as he continued to berate her and Jason. And honestly, he’d stopped making sense about thirty minutes ago and while she couldn’t look at her uncles for fear of bursting into laughter, Jason had no problems cracking a smirk at everything Hal was yelling about.

“—AND I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU HAD A BOY IN THE HOUSE!” he paused, horror drawing across his face, then it immediately turned into anger. “THIS ISN’T THE FIRST TIME HE’S COME OVER IS IT?! HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?!”

Her face pinched and she inquired, “Which question do you want answered first? The one you asked when you first started yelling or the last one just now?”

“I am in no mood for games, (Y/N) Jordan. You brought a boy into the house without permission.”

“I am a man.” Jason interrupted.

She elbowed him in the ribs. “I didn’t realize I needed permission to bring my boyfriend into the house.”

“BOYFRIEND?!” Hal screeched.

(Y/N) blinked. “I’m confused. Are you angry at me calling him my boyfriend? Do you want me to call him my fuckbuddy or something?”

“HEY!” both Jason and Hal in unison and her father glared at him. “SHUT UP!”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, dad…I’m twenty-one. Having a boyfriend is a completely normal thing. Having a consensual sexual relationship with someone is a normal thing.”

Hal spluttered for a moment then pointed at Jason. “NOT WITH HIM!”

“What’s wrong with me?” Jason question, rather offendedly, then he held up a hand. “I mean, besides the obvious things that are wrong with me.”

“YOU’RE YOU! THE SON OF BATMAN!”

“I mean…” Jason drawled. “That’s technically debatable most days.”

(Y/N) looked at him. “You’re not exactly helping the case, Jay.”

“I’m not trying to.” He grinned at her. “I’m seeing if I can make your dad go red.”

She tutted at him. “Jason Todd trying to corrupt a Green Lantern into a Red Lantern. Shame.”

“QUIT DOING THAT!” Hal howled as they started snickering, seeming to get lost in their own little world. Suddenly, he was marching down the hallway and coming back with a cellphone.

They watched in confusion for a moment, then Jason’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

“What?” (Y/N) worried.

“He’s calling B.”

“What.”

Hal put the phone to his ear and glowered at the two of them until the line clicked and he immediately yelled, “DO YOU KNOW YOUR DELINQUENT SON IS DATING MY DAUGHTER?...WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ALREADY KNOW?!...EXCUSE ME?! WHAT?!”

He hung up the phone and set it on the table, then proceeded to turn around and grab a pillow from the couch, bringing it to his face. Hal bellowed into the pillow and Jason nudged her. “How long is he gonna be like this?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Probably another minute or two. He’ll start up again in about an hour though.”

Jason hummed and stood from the table. “Well, I’d love to stay and get yelled at some more but if I’m being honest, I only need one father yelling at me and not two.”

“Where are you going?” she questioned.

“Roy and I have a mission in Costa Rica tomorrow evening.” He bent down and kissed her lips. “I’ll call you when I land.”

(Y/N) smiled and before he pulled away, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for another searing kiss, one that erupted wolf-whistles from the other Lanterns around them—which also had Hal pulling his head up at the sound, immediately shouting again.

“Love you,” she murmured, and he winked.

“Love you more, doll.” He tossed a mock salute to Hal and the others before leaving and she sat back in her seat, readying herself for another round of bellowing.

***

Surprisingly, Hal had relaxed after a few hours. That being said, (Y/N) really had to work on him to do so but being an only child and her dad’s pride and joy played a big part—she knew the man could never stay mad at her. Of course, he’d immediately put rules into place over the whole relationship thing. No boys in the house without permission, no closing the door when a boy was over, no more Bat-sons in the Jordan apartment…he was overreacting, but it wasn’t anything new in (Y/N)’s opinion.

But he did ease up after a few months, mainly because as anti-social as Jason was most days, he was damn good at working people over when he wanted to. And in her boyfriend’s opinion, the easiest way to work her dad over was to tell him all the ways to screw with Bruce—which Hal took in like a sponge with water. As annoying as it was to see the two men so giddy over a plan, she was glad they were just getting along.

However, when Hal learned that (Y/N) was being trained by Jason, and on the rare occasions, Bruce, his meltdown the first night seemed like a walk in the park compared to the storm blowing in.

***

So…what are you wearing?

She snorted, crossing at the formula of the equation, rewriting a new one beside it. “Jason, I’m not having phone-sex with you.”

Hmm…I bet you’re wearing red panties.

“Cold.” (Y/N) retorted with a grin. “They’re blue actually. You know, like Nightwing’s suit?”

Why do you hate me?

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you mean, Jay.”

You’re evil, you know that? Like you portray innocence but in reality, you’re evil.

She snorted again when a tapping came at her bedroom window and she frowned, leaning over; Jason saw it from the camera.

Everything alright?

(Y/N)’s eyes drifted to his face then to the window and she stood. “Yeah, someone’s at the window.”

(Y/N). He warned and she leaned over, seeing Kyle floating there.

“It’s Kyle.”

What’s Kyle doing there? I thought he was on Oa.

She nodded, brows furrowing as she murmured, “I did too.” Opening the window, she greeted, “Hey, what’s up?”

Kyle seemed nervous. No, he seemed concerned. “I need you to come with me.”

“Is my dad okay?” she asked outright, and he nodded.

“Yeah, Hal’s good…but he needs to talk to you.” Kyle waved a hand over her phone, and it shut off. “It’s important.”

(Y/N) felt her heart thump in her chest at how serious her friend was, and she nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.”

***

She’d only ever been to the Watchtower once. And the only thing she remembered from the trip was getting lost in one of the hallways only to be found by Batman who merely picked her sobbing frame up and hummed to her until she fell asleep.

So really, it was like a first time visit all over again, and when she came face to face with not only the Justice League, well Wonder Woman, Batman, and Superman, and her uncles, she wasn’t exactly excited. It felt like she’d been called to the principal’s office for expulsion.

Hal pointed to a seat, which she took, not wanting to open her mouth when she had no idea what was going on.

Wonder Woman, surprisingly, was the first to speak. “What is your daughter doing here, Hal?”

Her father merely looked at (Y/N) then to Bruce, questioning, “How long?” They stared one another down and she felt as lost as last year’s Easter eggs. “How long, Bruce?” Hal asked again.

Batman didn’t even blink. “A full year. When she started working at the branch in Coast City, I had Jason start it.”

“Motherfucker.” Hal cursed, chuckling humorlessly. “I do all I can to keep her out of this bullshit and you drag her into it.”

“(Y/N) wanted to train. She emailed me through a private channel about it.”

All eyes turned onto her and then she knew what was happening. “He’s…right, dad. I wanted to be trained to fight.”

Hal gaped at her. “Why? You’re going to school? You’re working? Why do you want to train?”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly. “To be like you guys. You know, useful?” she stood from the table. “Look, I know you’re worried, but even Batman’s noted major improvements. He says I’m almost ready to start patrolling on my own.” She looked to him for help.

“She’s smart, Hal. And I’m not saying that to float the Jordan ego. Jason’s not one to give commendation where it shouldn’t be.” Batman nodded at her. “(Y/N)’s not my kids, but she’s right behind them on how good she is.”

Hal’s brown eyes turned onto him in a fierce glare. “Yeah, well, unlike you, I don’t make a habit out of putting my kid in danger. I know you have a thing for going through sons.”

“HEY!” (Y/N) shouted, getting his attention as she stood to her feet. “I’m old enough to make this decision for myself and if Batman says I’m good enough to do this, I’m gonna do it.”

“Nope. Not happening.” Hal rejected. “End of discussion.”

“No.”

His eyes went wide first with shock, then with the audacity of her language. “Excuse me?”

(Y/N) momentarily wanted to cave, but she held strong and tightened her jaw. “I said no.” she declared. “I’m gonna do this.”

Hal rounded the table, stomping up to her. “No, you’re not.”

“What’re you gonna do, dad? Lock me in the house for the rest of my life?” she suggested. “I have rights you know.”

“Not to do shit like this. I don’t want you being a hero.”

(Y/N) gazed at him, and suddenly, everyone felt the mood shift as she murmured, “It’s because I’m not a Lantern, isn’t it, dad?”

Hal’s jaw went slack. “What? What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She shot back coolly, then tipped her head to the other league members. “See, they get to brag about their kids. Superboy, the Robins, the Wonder-Girls...everyone on this team has a trainee but you.” (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. “And you hate that I’m not like you, don’t you? That I can’t seem to figure out what it takes to wear that ring.”

She glanced at her uncles who were gaping at her. “See, you look at them like they’re the greatest people in the universe. And then when you look at me? It’s easy to see the devotion shift. Deep down it makes you disappointed that I’m not a Green Lantern.”

“You are absolutely out of line.” He growled.

“Am I, dad?” (Y/N) challenged. “Everyone here gets to brag about their superhero trainees but when it comes you, what can you say? ‘My daughter isn’t a Green Lantern like me, sorry!’?” she looked at him. “I’m not a Green Lantern, but I am something else. I can be something else. Let me prove it to you.”

Hal gazed at her for along moment. “…No.”

(Y/N) snapped. “Why the fuck not! What is it about me that just makes you so antagonistic at the idea of me being something like you!”

“Watch your language, young lady. I’m still your father.” He demanded.

“Oh please, as far as I’m concerned, you were just a failed pilot on leave who fucked my mom and got her pregnant.”

It happened before anyone realized it. The sharpest crack any of them had ever heard in their lives and (Y/N) turned her face back to him, a hand coming up to press against her stinging cheek. And Hal? Hal was staring at his hand as if it didn’t belong to him.

She wasn’t mad. Shocked, sure, but not mad. If anything, it’d proved her point and she merely regarded him with an assured gaze. “Bogey down, huh dad?” she remarked, and his eyes shot to hers.

Hal’s mouth opened but nothing would come out except, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Yeah, you did,” she whispered, taking a step back from him when he reached for her.

His face crumpled and he brokenly called, “(Y/N), wait!”

But she was already running for the door, Batman on her heels.

***

“Do you want me to call Jason?” he asked quietly, watching her open the balcony doors.

Her hands stilled for a moment, then she resumed twisting the key. “No…and don’t tell him this happened either.”

“Why not?”

(Y/N) looked back at him. “Because you and I both know that Jason would beat my dad senseless.”

“…Do you want to come back to Gotham for a while?”

She opened the doors and sighed. “I don’t know, Batman.” Glancing back, she added, “I don’t really know what I want right now.”

“Do you want to be away from Hal?” he questioned seriously, and she looked at her feet.

“I know what you’re thinking. But he’s not abusive.”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up. “My dad’s never laid his hands on me before now.”

“He ever physically discipline you?”

“Swatting your eight-year-old kid’s butt in the middle of a store when they’re having a meltdown over not buying an expensive toy is a lot different from beating them bloody and bruised with a beer bottle or a belt.’ (Y/N)’s eyes darkened, but not at her father’s face in her head, but at Batman. “My dad’s a lot of things. A jackass, a skirt chaser, a self-righteous arrogant prick…but he is not an abuser.”

Batman placed a hand on her shoulder. “He hit you.”

“Yeah? And? I insulted him and my mom straight to his face. Sure, slapping me wasn’t the answer, but I understand the reaction. Does is make is right? No. But neither is what I said. We both fucked up.” She shrugged his hand off. “We’ll talk about it and move on.”

“Because it’s what Jordan’s do?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh but it was anything but mirthful. “Yeah. It’s what Jordan’s do.” She stepped inside and looked back at him. “Thanks for bringing me home, Batman. I appreciate it.”

He nodded, pulling out his grapple. “Call me if you need anything.” Batman gazed at her. “And think about calling Jason.”

“…I will.”

Batman gazed at her a moment longer then fired the grapple, taking off into the night sky towards the Batplane, then she was watching as it disappeared faster than it came.

With a heavy sigh, she turned and put her hands on the back of the loveseat, shutting her eyes as she thought about the events of the night. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel. Angry? Hurt? Responsible? It had to be all the above, especially when she pictured his face in her head after it happened. Shocked, ashamed, horrified, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

(Y/N) didn’t want to think about it, and when she heard a ring flashing in her ears, she turned. “Guys, I don’t wanna talk about—” she fell into a deep silence when she saw the man before her, the yellow suit glowing vividly against the dark sky.

“Hello (Y/N) Jordan. I am Sinestro.”

***Part Three***

Hal had taken her flying more times than she could’ve counted—perks of being a pilots daughter, and while she had faith in aircraft and Green Lantern constructs, she wasn’t sure how to feel about Yellow Lanterns and their tendency to drop people.

Coast City looked so small below her, and she swallowed thickly, trying greatly to keep her fear under control, keeping her eyes on the moon. She knew if Sinestro dropped her at this height, she’d die. There were no chances of survival at all—she’d hit the ground and pancake with the best of ‘em.

“I am rather surprised that you accepted my invitation so easily,” he remarked, not looking at her as they rose through the night sky.

“Yeah, well…I’ve heard enough stories about you to know that you’ll kill me if you want to.” Her eyes followed his frame. “I’d like to extend my life as long as possible.”

“A wise decision, (Y/N).” He noted rather humorously, finally taking the time to look back at her. “I’ve watched you for some time now.”

Ignoring the implications and total creepiness of the statement, she instead asked, “How long?”

“Long enough to see the potential you have in greater things.” Sinestro replied and reached a hand out, a horde of golden glowing constructs appearing before her eyes. Her training with Batman, with Jason, even with Hal and the others—most importantly, the fight just before. “It hurts that he doesn’t trust you to be like him, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t respond, merely watching the moment of his hand coming back across her face over and over again as the feelings welled in her chest.

“You try so hard to be of use to Hal. To be a Green Lantern like him, but nothing you do makes him proud.” He gazed at her with something akin to pity, but it felt like a manipulation. “I understand your fear of failure…of shame.” Holding out his hand, he made her own raise beside her body and a yellow ring floated from his palm. “I can feel the anger inside you. Your fear fights to quell it.” Sinestro smiled. “I almost want to call Atrocitus and have him recruit you into the Red Corps.”

(Y/N)’s eyes fell to the ring, and she clenched her hand into a fist to keep it from sliding onto her finger. “I—I can’t be a Yellow Lantern.”

“Why not?”

“Why n—because you’re the enemy of the Green Lanterns!” she shouted. “I’d be betraying my father and my friends and my family!”

He gave her a knowing look. “The same family that looked upon you with shame every time you tried to wield the green power ring, but couldn’t?”

She felt like she’d been shot, and her jaw dropped. “I…”

Sinestro nodded. “I understand. But you don’t, (Y/N). Willpower must be had since birth. Fear however—” he reached out, uncurling her fingers. “Can be taught. And you have potential to be trained with terror.” He met her gaze. “You can’t be a Green Lantern like Hal wants…but you can become something he has to recognize. Something powerful. Something fearsome.”

(Y/N) stared at him, and this time, she didn’t fight as the ring slipped onto her finger. (Y/N) Jordan of Earth. You possess the ability to instill great fear. Welcome to the Sinestro Corps.

The world started swirling around her, golden flashes of light bound her body and she screamed in terror as her nightmares came alive before her. The chains coiled, almost like snakes creeping up her body, tighter and tighter around her throat and up around her skull. The last thing she saw through her fearful gaze was Sinestro laughing darkly and the world before her went dark and she was subjected to her minds torment, brought upon by the forged ring.

For a moment, the world was calm, then the chains fell away, and (Y/N) stood before Sinestro, clothed in an exo-suit, similar to her father’s, but instead of the bright, awe-inspiring green, it was a golden, fear-inducing yellow.

And when she opened her eyes, they narrowed onto Sinestro, and all she said was, “I’m ready to receive my orders.”

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ghostofbambifanfiction · 3 years

Text

Part 1 of ?????

Started writing this fic a while ago and then lost faith in it. Should I continue? Feel bad for not posting much lately so I thought I'd share this. Read on and weigh in.

COME OUT TONIGHT

You don't have to fucking shout?

Said the pot to the kettle?

Oh you grandmother The caps were an accidental by-product of voice-to-text Blame Siri if you're going to blame anyone

You have a Samsung Galaxy S20.

HAD. It got smashed. Worst luck. Listen, come out with me tonight.

Urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm tired!

https://www.boots.com/wellness/vitaminsandsupplements/vitamins-supplements-shop-by-ingredient/echinacea

Hah (indifferent)

Just come out with me! Isaac has to go see some godawful student performance of the Antigone in wherever the fuck Chichester is and it's Sirius's flatmate's birthday party so I have to go and I don't know any of his weird mates

You don't HAVE to go.

Have to/want to Semantics

I'm not in a birthday party mood. I'm having a stressful week. My arse has been tense since Tuesday.

I will wade into the deep and massage your arse if I have to, just come It's a swank pad in Belgravia! I bet they'll have all sorts of expensive nibbles!

I read that as expensive nipples.

Those too!

Partying it up with the children of wealthy Tories. Sounds super fun.

Just come out with me, for fuck I'll pick you up at 7 and we can steal their silverware if it's boring as the grave

URGH I'll go but I'm NOT dressing up!

You don't have to dress up!

FINE!

take the drawings down please i'm begging you i'm actually begging you

Nah mate

siriusssssssss pleeeeeease

Nah

PLEASE

Nah

PLEASE ffs it's MY birthday!!!! there are going to be PEOPLE there! standing around! AT EYE LEVEL

I don't see what the problem is.

EVERYONE will see what the problem is! they literally will not be able to IGNORE what the problem is!

Sounds like a recipe for lively discussion to me tbh

that is NOT what i want people talking about at my birthday!

If I take them down, I'll have to take all the nails out and that'll leave nail marks all over the walls. It would be unsightly.

MORE UNSIGHTLY THAN YOUR DICK, SIRIUS?

My dick is bewitching.

DIE

She walks in expecting to find herself the infiltrator of a Made in Chelsea/Royal Ascot/Henley Regatta netherworld, filled with a gaggle of giggling, SW-postcode socialites wielding suspiciously powder-edged Harrods Amex cards in the place of horses and boats, but that's not what actually greets her on the other side of the lacquered front door.

What greets her is really quite ordinary.

Aside from the naked drawings of Kingsley's mate, which aren't.

Otherwise, the whole affair is pretty relaxed. People her age are clustered in their small groups, swigging beers. There's a table of oven-heated party foods, salty snacks and rapidly depleting ramekins of guac. She spies more band shirts than there are dress shirts. There's a round of Fortnite in full swing on the TV.

It's all just...startlingly normal. A normal birthday party.

And that's sort of embarrassing, really.

Where are all the visible Tory toffs, she wonders? Where is the braying laughter? The Eton alumni reunion? The glimpse of hunting-happy tweed and shotgun barrels as a coat cupboard door swings shut? Where's the indelible air of sneering superiority, of "we're richer and more privileged and better than you, so fuck the NHS and death to foxes!" that she'd been expecting? There's a fucking Henry Hoover in the corner of the hall, for Christ's sake. Lily came here to smile through her teeth at them all, to listen to the champagne problems privilege that bubbled from their lips and tell herself that she was the one who knew better, who thought better. Her plain white tee and skinny jeans and scuff-toed, high-top trainers were supposed to be a statement, a subtle setting-apart, but she's not even the most underdressed person in the room.

She pre-judged a house full of people. What's that about?

There's a lesson to be found in this. Perhaps.

James covered all of the dicks in Paw Patrol stickers that he bought from the newsagent on his way home from his mum's, but Sirius peeled them all off while he was taking a soothing lavender bath, so what's the bloody point in birthdays anyway?

It's early in the evening, and he's wedged—against his will—between the dining room bar and Shane Ruttle, who has just pointed at one of the many lamentable dicks and asked, "Is this one of yours?" which James kind of wants to thump him for. It's bad enough that he looks like a madman who stuffed his house with naked drawings of his brother, now people are actually assuming that he drew the damn things, even though most of the compositions are appallingly far beneath his skill level. He's a professional illustrator, for the love of god, and Shane is really standing before him like the posturing prick he is, asking him if he's the one who drew Sirius with one arm disproportionately longer than the other.

He knows that he should cheer up.

It is his birthday. There is cake.

Good cake, too, not the kind that gets buried in too-thick fondant that he has to pick off before he can eat what's underneath.

The problem is, there's also a party, and his friends are his friends, Peter and Sirius included, and Peter and Sirius can both get drunk much faster than James can. When Peter and Sirius get drunk, serious injuries tend to follow, Remus tends to fuck off in a flash and James tends to be the one who calls for an ambulance or mothers them back to health—physical, mental or otherwise. He has just turned twenty-six, and these repeated, drunkenly dramatic medical emergency scenes are starting to wear a little thin.

Can't a man get comfortably drunk and have a laugh at his own birthday party?

No, he can't, because Peter's already halfway to trashed, wobbling unsteadily towards the French doors that lead to the terrace, wearing that look on his face that says I'm definitely going to vomit or maybe even shit myself like I did on that one night we all spent in Munich with the Belgian handball team and the creepy tour guide who couldn't keep his sleazy hands to himself. For the sake of sparing the lawn such a punishment, James hastily removes himself from Shane, grabs Peter by the collar, shoves him in the direction of the downstairs loo and retreats to the safety of the living room, where there are, at least, no naked drawings of Sirius gracing the walls.

Most of the people in here are transfixed by Saffy Stephens, who is down to the last three in her Fortnite game and cursing like a sailor, but there are a small pile of birthday cards on the end table where James and Sirius normally keep their keys. He perches on the sofa arm, sets his half-drunk beer bottle on the carpet, pushes his dark, disheveled hair away from his forehead and begins leafing through them. It's a necessity when one lives with Sirius, who thinks nothing of swiping gift cards when the mood strikes him and he's had enough to drink.

They're mostly from his female friends, and all pretty standard, until he reaches the middle of the pile and finds a card bearing a picture of a moustached tabby and the caption: Have a Purr-fect Birthday!

The inscription inside is written in a lovely, swirling hand.

To Jasper/Jack/Jason/maybe Ja Rule?/J-something idk

(see above: everything I've learned about you from the friend* I came here with, verbatim)

(*who can't remember your name)

Happy Birthday! Thank you for (not) specifically inviting me, a stranger, to your party to celebrate this momentous event in your life. Please enjoy this festive card/social nicety/convention from me to you. My friend brought rum which you may prefer.

I'll be around. Not that you'll know.

James lowers the card and twists on the sofa arm at once, eyes darting around the room in search of its author, as if they might be laying in wait to watch him read it and see how he reacts. Nobody appears to have ducked behind the couch, however, so the situation merits further scrutiny.

Obviously, he needs to meet this person.

A mystery! At his birthday party!

He perks right up after that.

She's coming out of the downstairs loo when a short, blonde man in a garish Hawaiian shirt barrels past her and pukes all over the chequerboard tiled floor, narrowly missing her jeans.

"Oh no," he moans into his wet hands. "Oh no—"

"There there, mate," says Lily consolingly, never one to judge somebody for getting drunk early at a party. She pats him on the back before squeezing past him and rejoining Kingsley, who is standing in one of this meandering Georgian house's many hallways, chatting to a bloke in a houndstooth sweater vest and holding two glasses of something very, very sparkly that she must try at once.

"It's like...it's like everything and nothing at the same time," Houndstooth Bloke is saying when Lily draws close, gesturing to a huge canvas painting of a rain-soaked fairground at night.

"Is it?" Kingsley asks.

"Mmm. Very." Houndstooth shakes his shoulders like he's slipping out of a robe. "Meant to be esoteric, I suppose."

That sounds suspiciously like pretentious bullshit to Lily, who doesn't find the concept of a merry looking fairground all that difficult to absorb. Kingsley knows more about the art world than she does, but he must agree with her assessment because he grunts and shoves her glass into her hand when she stops beside him, and more roughly than she deserves, as if she's the one who landed him in this mess of a conversation to begin with.

Trust him to find himself stuck with the only dick (not etched by a 4B Steadtler graphite pencil) in the building, and trust her to be stuck with the person who got himself stuck with King.

"What are we talking about?" she asks brightly, just to fuck with him.

"Drink your champagne, there's a good little hen," King mutters, his teeth clenched together, hallway lights bouncing off the smoothly waxed dome of his bald head.

"We've been discussing this piece." Houndstooth nods to the painting, but his limpid eyes narrow on Lily's face. "Christ, you're very redheaded, aren't you?"

It's decided. She'll wait 'til Houndstooth is drunk and trip him up with Henry Hoover's hose.

"Ergo soulless, yes," she agrees.

"And you...enjoy that?" he asks, as if being redheaded is her profession.

"Very much, thanks."

"Hmmp. Well. I came here with Saffron," he announces, pronouncing it Sef-ron. As if Lily is supposed to know who that is. "Platonically, of course. Actually, we're some sort of cousins, I think. What do you think the artist is trying to convey?"

He's very pointedly asking her, so Lily blinks at the painting, her eyes on the outstretched arm of a child on the carousel.

"I like the pretty colours," she decides aloud.

"Right," says Houndstooth, "but that's not—"

"And the lights, too. The lights are really pretty."

"But—"

"I love funfairs, actually," she brightly continues, finding a strange satisfaction in playing dumb in front of Houndstooth and his overbleached fade. Although she does really like the colours. "Haven't been to one in years!"

"Yes, good, whatever, but what is the artist trying to convey?"

"What artist?" comes a voice from behind them.

Lily glances over her shoulder and finds herself looking up at the man whose penis she's spent the past thirty minutes avoiding eye contact with, though he is taller, better proportioned and infinitely more beautiful than any of those crudely drawn depictions could possibly convey. He is also beplumed and bejewelled like a pirate, wearing a sumptuous velvet jacket over a loose white shirt, numerous rings on his fingers and an assortment of silver chains around his slender neck, while his grey eyes and elegantly high-set cheekbones are framed by a tumble of black hair that genuinely looks like silk.

The man is so beautiful, in fact, that Lily immediately wonders why he's been taking sketches home from the life drawing class that he and Kingsley pose for—hence their acquaintance and Lily's presence at this party—when nothing she's seen tonight has done him any justice.

Most happily, his penis is tucked safely out of sight.

"Alright, Sirius?" says King.

"Alright, Marvel?" Sirius claps a hand to the taller man's massive shoulder. Kingley's muscles bulge in a way that cannot be hidden by modern habiliments. "What are we talking about?"

"Not much." Houndstooth looks put out by the arrival of yet another person. "We were just mesmerised by this piece."

Lily refrains from gesturing to the painting with both hands and a "ta-dah!" choosing instead to sip her champagne.

It's very good champagne. Mmm. Yes.

"Oh, yeah, it's really something," Sirius agrees. He brushes past Kingsley and runs a finger over the illegible squiggle of a signature on the canvas. His nails are beautifully manicured. "Local guy, young up-and-comer. I assume you've heard of Algernon?" he asks Houndstooth, fixing him with a steely-eyed stare.

"Er, yes." Houndstooth's gaze slides from Sirius to the painting. "I know him."

Sirius's eyebrows lift. "Know him personally?"

"Well—"

"That's so weird, I heard he never speaks to people."

Houndstooth chews on the inside of his cheek, weighing up the challenge. "How…funny."

"Funny?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just, I know I've spoken to him before, and since you've bought his painting I assumed that you'd have—"

"That is funny, actually," Sirius interrupts, "because the artist is my brother, and Algernon is the name of his cat."

Kingsley has been tugging on his earring and almost rips it out of his ear as his body convulses, champagne spraying from his nostrils, while an alarming red flush sweeps across Houndstooth's face and he begins to sputter on his own self-importance. Sirius has clearly decided that he's done with all of that noise, however, because he turns back to Lily instead, looking her up and down with great and sudden interest.

"Who's this then?" he asks Kingsley, cocking his head to one side. "James's present?"

The champagne glass swings down and Lily fixes him with a deadpan stare. "Excuse me?"

Sirius slants a grin at Kingsley, a quick flash of teeth. "This one's queenly, isn't she?"

Kingsley wipes his nose with the back of his hand and laughs again. "Hardly."

"This is Primark, mate," Lily retorts, tugging on her t-shirt.

"Queenliness is a state of mind," says Sirius, "not a state of wardrobe."

"You had me marked down as a prostitute not ten seconds ago."

"Oh, that. I was only joking," he sighs, and grips her arm at the elbow, his long fingers cool against her skin. "But still, you're far too attractive to stand here talking to this clown. Come with me and I'll find you someone better."

James's friends are useless.

And drunk. Useless and drunk—or sort of drunk, in Saffy's case. Remus is certainly already pissed, but Remus is on meds so often that he drinks but once in a blue moon. One cocktail is usually enough to set him off, and he's been hard at the gin since he turned up with Peter at six.

"I don't know anyone with those initials," Saffy declares, once she has read, examined and even sniffed the birthday card for clues. "Except for Lisa Edelstein."

"Who's Lisa Edelstein?"

"Cuddy from House," says Remus, lowering the negroni from which he has been drinking deeply.

James pulls a face. "What the fuck is a Cuddy?"

"Oh, actually, it could mean le?" Remus suggests.

"Yes!" Saffy points at him like he might be onto something. "Like the French word for the?"

"Exactly, like—"

"It doesn't mean that!" James interrupts, unwilling to allow such profanity in his home. "That doesn't make sense, why would somebody sign their name as the?"

"Now you're asking me to explain how French people think?" says Saffy derisively, adjusting her bra strap beneath that burnt orange waistcoat she loves, the one that makes her look like she's directing a pornographic movie in the 70s when she pairs it with her tortoiseshell-framed aviators. It clashes wildly with her electric blue buzz-cut. "Am nooooo drunk enough for that."

"They could be one of those one word moniker pop stars, I suppose," Remus pipes up, smiling slyly. "You know, like Madonna?"

They think James doesn't realise that they're taking the piss out of him, but neither of them are sober enough to attempt their gambit with any kind of subtlety or grace.

"You know that's actually her real Christian name?" says Saffy.

Remus turns towards her with interest. "What, Madonna?"

"Yeah!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Saffy repeats. "I thought it couldn't possibly be her real name because, I mean, Madonna, yeah? But then I looked it up and apparently that's the name her mummy gave her, just goes to show—"

"I'm sorry," James interrupts, "but is Madonna relevant to this conversation?"

"Yes, always," says Saffy.

"She's an international pop megastar," Remus seconds.

James stares at his friend incredulously. "Drinking really chips away at your wit, y'know?"

"Does it?" Remus grins lazily and jiggles his cocktail in the air. "Oh, well, I'm negronly joking."

Saffy does a spit-take without the spit and clings helplessly to Remus's shoulder as she laughs, knees buckling, bangles tinkling, but James fights his own urge to start snickering.

"It's not that funny," he lies, and Remus eyes him with an alarmingly teacher-like shrewdness, despite the tellingly intoxicated flush that has crept into his thin, freckled face.

James's love of puns is tragically well known.

"You didn't get it." Remus points at his drink. His speech is starting to slur. "This is a negroni, what I said was—"

"Yeah, I got that part, I just—"

"Jesus fuck, look at her!" Saffy suddenly hisses, staggering sideways into Remus and sending him into the wall in a flurry of giggles—Remus giggling?—her voice hushed and urgent. "Who the hell is that?!"

James does look, following the direction of Saffy's gaze. Sirius has just entered the living room, casually clutching the elbow of a……

……goddess.

An actual. Like. Goddess.

A goddess. In James's house. In his living room. In the place where he eats his chocolate boulder cereal and rewatches Scrubs (even season 9, which is hilarious, and very unfairly disparaged by Joe Public) on Saturday mornings.

She's a goddess. A real one, and cleverly disguised as a mortal, sure, with her slouchy white t-shirt and her big hoop earrings and her light blue jeans that are torn at the knees, wearing her shoulder-length red hair half up, half down and slightly messy, but that doesn't hide what she is.

"Oh my god," he murmurs. His heart is pounding all of a sudden, which is so...utterly bloody stupid, but Saffy's right, bloody look at her, Jesus fuck.

"Surely she can't be with Sirius?" Saffy murmurs back.

"No, she—" He watches Sirius lean down to mutter something in the redhead's ear. A ghost of a laugh flits across her beautiful face. "She's not his—he isn't—"

"D'you think—"

"No, I—"

"Good," says Saffy firmly. She lets go of Remus and rises, lengthening her spine. It is a battle stance of some sort, presumably. "Because I saw her first."

"No!" James cries, wounded, and the redhead shoots him a curious look with a pair of eyes that are startlingly emerald green, even from all the bloody way over here. He spins to face Saffy and lowers his voice, face burning. "It's my house!"

"What are you arguing here, ownership rights?"

"No but it—it's my birthday!" James retorts, jabbing at his own chest. "And, actually, and—"

"It's in the bloody post!"

"—you didn't get me a present!" he finishes in triumph, not that he knows what he's arguing for, because the likelihood is that his tongue will glue itself to the roof of his mouth if he even dares to look in her direction one more time. "Plus I set you up with Vanya Petrich, with whom, as I recall, you enjoyed four years—"

"Stop throwing that in my face!"

"—four blissful years—"

"Is it my fault that you've never fancied any girl I've set you up with?!"

"—promised me an Easter ham for setting you up with her and I never got it—"

"So now you'll trade a woman for a ham?" Saffy accuses, though her face is too lit up, her brown eyes too crinkled at the corners—she's having fun with this and she isn't going to fool him and she knows it. "That's so low, even—"

"Don't start with that," James scathingly cuts in. "You offered me Sean Connery's autograph for Bonnie Grogan's number—"

"Which you never gave me!"

"Because you forged the bloody signature!"

"And now she's bloody married!"

"Yeah, well, Isabella wouldn't give me a counterfeit present, would she?" he retorts, and Saffy lets her shoulders drop, smirking. "This is pointless, Saf, we can't—"

"She's just left with Sirius," Remus informs them, and burps.

#Jily #Part 1 #Of 3?#Honestly I just wanted to give you guys a treat

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smoochkooks · 3 years

Text

—chapter four: white lies

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

word count: 1.5k

summary: it came easy to you to lie. but with every untold truth, you were hurting more on the inside.

previous || next

one year and 6 months ago

April was exceptionally moody that year.

Every day you woke up to either heavy rainfall or a beautiful, cloudless sky. Alternatively, it could also snow for a couple of hours just to have it all vanish once the sun reappeared. As much as you loved Spring, you hated the capricious weather with passion.

It was a normal, peaceful, Saturday afternoon. Saturday meant no classes to attend, no work to do on the side. It was just you in your small, cozy apartment, tucked underneath the blanket and binge-watching Attack On Titan.

You were never an anime enthusiast per se, but you happened to befriend a doe-eyed weeb all those years ago. Your current occupation was just a part of the aftermath. It wasn’t like Jungkook was obsessed, not at all. He was actually far from it. Now, at the tender age of twenty-three, his old hobby was like a relapse. His love for anime was coming in waves every once in a while, gradually transforming into a two-months-long hyperfixation and then, it was nothing. And the cicle continued.

He was currently in the stage of re-watching Attack On Titan, hence why you had been forced to finally give the damned anime a try as well. Hell, he was even coming over tonight to have a marathon with you.

(He’d said that season three, his favourite, you had to watch alongside him.)

You: eren's annoying little shit

Jungkook: told you so

You: but levi? damn I’d sell my soul for him

Jungkook: for a 5’2 emotionally unavailable man?

You: yep. that’s my type

It was far from truth. As much as you liked Captain Levi, he wasn’t Jungkook. You are my type, you wanted to write instead. There hadn’t been a man in my life who managed to even come close to you. But, as always, you kept those confessions to yourself.

Right when you were about to play another episode, your phone buzzed again.

Jungkook: I have a weird question

You: I’m used to that

You: shoot your shot.

Jungkook: what’s your finger size?

Confused, you read his last message once again. That was indeed a weird fucking question to ask, you thought. You had never really been a fan of rings. You only owed one - a gift from your grandmother she gave you for your sixteenth birthday. Rummaging thorough your drawer, you found it in a separate, black case.

It still fit just right, so you took a ruler, measured the size and googled the results.

You: it’s 7.5 I guess

You: why do you ask tho?

Jungkook: I need you to go somewhere with me before our marathon if that’s okay

You: you didn’t answer my question

You: but okay. what time?

Jungkook: ill pick you up at 5pm

Jungkook: you’ll see

Maybe it was for the better he hadn’t told you where he was taking you. If you had know, you would have backed away last minute. Come up with so lame excuse, blame it all on a headache or period cramps.

If you had known Jungkook was taking you to pick up an engagement ring for Soojin, you would have never come with him.

When you parked in front of one of the most high-ranking jewellery stores dowtown, the solemnity of the situation hit you like a whiplash. You took a deep, shuddering breath. Jungkook was thinking about marrying Soojin. Jungkook was going to propose to her, soon. He was ready to spent the rest of his life with her.

Jeon Jungkook, the love of your life, was about to slip out of your reach for good.

You couldn’t cry. Not in front of him. You clenched your fists so tight the knuckles turned white.

“I figured out you could help me,” Jungkook said, breaking the silence and unbuckled his seatbelt. “I checked Soojin's finger size once when she was showering and then I found out that your’s the same and well, you’re a girl so you obviously know more about jewellery than me and–”

“Jungkook,” you cut him off with a dry chuckle. You didn’t want him to speak. You didn’t want to see him. You wanted to jumped off his car and ran away from that place as far as possible. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I get it.”

You smiled at him with reassurance. It was actually hilarious, how you mastered the art of feigning your real feelings when you were with him. It came easy to you to lie but with every untold truth, you were hurting more on the inside.

“I’m here, so you don’t have to worry about chosing something horrible.”

He grinned and you noticed a dust of pink covering the apples his cheeks. It was hard, so fucking hard seeing him happy because that was all you ever wanted and yet it pained you not to be the main source of it. Jungkook was twenty-three and already so in love he wanted to get married. You were going to see him in a black tux, a prince charming waiting in front of the altar for his princess.

It ached. Why did it ache to see him happy?

The lady who worked at the jewellery store greeted you politely with a bow. “What can I do for you?” she asked.

“We are looking for engagement rings.” Jungkook answered.

You could tell she was a bit astounded but her professional smile never faltered when she responded with, “Oh, that’s still quite unusual to see the couple chosing an engagement ring together.”

You were about to protest but then, Jungkook did something you would never expect him to do.

He grasped your hand.

(It was warm. His touch was soothing. Comforting. Then why did it hurt so bad?)

“My girlfriend wants to chose the ring herself but she doesn’t know when she will get it.”

To make matters worse, he sent you a wink. The store’s clerk cooed at the scene and clasped a hand over her chest. For her it was yet another day at work, yet another pair of adults who had decided to get marry.

“You make a really beautiful couple.” she said.

Even Jungkook’s hand squeezing yours couldn’t ease the sting you felt hearing her speak those words to you. You smiled lightly for good measure. She then pointed at the display and gave you some time and space too look at the options.

Your whole face felt hot. Jungkook was still holding your hand, still playing the role of a perfect boyfriend. He didn’t seem to notice what kind of effect it had on you. He didn’t know how fast your heart was beating, how warm his touch felt on your skin. It was all just a silly joke to him.

He leaned closer to you, so the store's clerk couldn’t hear him. His breath tickled your skin. “You’re blushing.” he whispered.

“Shut up.”

He chuckled and let go of your hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

(No matter how much it hurt you on the inside, you already missed his touch.)

“It’s okay. Let’s chose my damned ring, shall we?” you proposed, mustering a nonchalant tone.

Dodging uneasiness with humor always worked out, it seemed.

You felt odd and out of place standing next to him and staring at all those glimmering jewels. In the corner of the eye you saw the lady who worked there glancing at you from time to time and that was when you remembered you were supposed to act like a soon-to-be fiancée.

“They’re all pretty.” you said to Jungkook.

“Which one you like the most then?”

You didn’t have to think long about the answer. The ring with an emerald stone caught your eye from the beginning. It was different than the others, definitely not a standard choice for engagement but something about its peculiarity made you want it to have it shinning on your finger one day.

Except, you weren’t here for yourself. Jungkook wasn’t your boyfriend. You were helping him chose a ring for Soojin. And you knew exactly what she would like.

So you pointed at the number thirty-two. A sparkling, white-gold ring with an oval-shaped diamond.

Jungkook let out a hum. “It’s really pretty, yeah. Excuse me,” he called. “My girlfriend would like to try out this one.”

You ignored the phantom pain you felt as you put the ring on. You flexed your fingers and just for a moment, you pretended it wasn’t a farce your best friend came up with. The diamond shone brightly just like the glimmers of happiness in Jungkook's eyes. He didn’t have to worry about Soojin's answer. He knew it would be thousand times yes.

You were good at pretending. After all, you had been practicing the art of it almost your entire life.

So you drove with Jungkook to your apartment and listened to him babbling about his newest project at work. You made snacks, sat in front of your TV and spent the next couple of hours watching Attack On Titan. You cursed him for spoiling you a few bits of the show and Jungkook, like the petty Virgo he was, reminded you how you accidentally revealed him Little Women's ending because you had read the book years before.

As you laughed and bickered with him, you still remembered about the crimson box tucked in the pocket of his leather jacket, but you didn’t allow yourself to break. Not yet.

It was only when Jungkook fell asleep around 1am that you stepped into the shower and let the tears flow.

And a week later, when the dreaded became real–

Jungkook: she said yes!!!

A white lie was told to avoid hurting someone’s feelings.

You: I’m so happy for you, Jungkook!

After all, the best you could do was give up your happiness for the sake of his own.

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts smut #my writing #an ode to a broken heart

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sillyroyalty · 3 years

Text

Edit : reuploaded separately because I ended up attaching this to a reblog. I don’t want to inconvenience others viewing the comments with my long as paragraph so I thought it over

Note: oc for Sincerely Not, an absolutely amazing attention grabbing story by @saintobio . I recommend it anyone who’s 18 and over since it’s a mdni

My post is purely for fun and Yuuta simping because he is fine af in this fic and needs love 😌

This reminds me of the doodle I did in chemistry class instead of paying attention. I remembered that someone made and oc (I think they made a character that was the by blood sister of satoru? The white haired one?) And they provided facts about the character and how they would play out in the story. In the moment I had a thought and doodled out a concept. However this character while connecting to a character in SN isn’t necessarily invested in the affairs and family drama (she’s on the border of it though), instead she seeks out the affection and companionship of the Second Gogou son…Yuuta👀

Mona Zenin

Step 1 : concept art and plot

*the doodle I did behind my teachers back🙊 haha please excuse the scribbles I call sketches, I had to be sneaky

Mona Zenin (18-19 yrs old) the younger sister of our favorite manipulator Naoya Zenin. Just another child the sea of the Zenins. She has no clout sadly because Naoya is probably gonna inherit all the business shit if given the chance also there’s a long ass line before that happens. (Toji, Megumi, Maki,Mai,etc). In the end I’m terms of benefits for the family she’s useless. It doesn’t help the fact that this young lady has no sense of money and has not a damn clue how to run a business. Mona can’t tell you the state of the stock market but she can tell you that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell :D

Now as you’ve guessed useless = not exactly mommy or daddy’s favorite 😞

I mean they don’t hate her, nonono, they just try to keep her away from business partners and business info 🙃 because she blabs everything to Toji anyways

Step 2 : about Mona

Mona was born weak and was always a sickly child, spent most of her toddling days in the hospital or puking on expensive shit. The Zenins have maids specifically tasked to look after her. Now our Mona is mostly healthy but the house servants have grown attached, looks at the wittle Miss Mona eating and growing 🥺💓

Mona is dressed by the maids. Sadly they be out there dressing her in frills while her cousins ( Maki and Mai) and other rich kids are decked out in fashion. Mona feels awkward and out of place, the weird looks and whispers she gets are hurtful, all she’s known as is the ugly duckling of the Zenin clan.

That’s not to say Mona is actually useless…she’s creative and smart, does well at science and English, and loves to act on stage for school plays- but none of that is important to the Zenin clan now ?

To sum it up Mona has all the cons of being a Zenin but none of the pros.

Step 3: relationships with Sn cast ?

Yuuta: He’s sweet, adorable and well mannered, and compared to most socialites actually down to Earth. Talks to Mona during gatherings, invites her to hang out with her cousins and him. She feels happy with him. Mona hates herself quite a bit, she feels helpless and trapped but with Yuuta she feels as if they are in the same page. He dances with her at the balls when everyone else picks the elegant Maki and Mai. He indulges in the theatrics Mona does. Mona is dead ass in love, she holds a silver of hope that she’ll be able to marry him. Will Mr Gogo and Eula give his hand to her ? She maybe and outcast but nevertheless she is a ZENIN…. Mona hates sucking up to her parents and other rich snobs but to up her status so they’ll let her marry him…she’ll suck up to whoever and study all the business books in the world to be by his side and support him.

Naoya : She doesn’t really bother with him, she knows about the whole Eula thing- she’s not going to bring it up ever though…she hates Naoya, he’s annoying, spoiled, and unfaithful but he is a man and the apple of their parents eye. Mona will simply keep quiet but Naoya know quite a bit about her, it’s not like she can keep her mouth shut anyways. She’ll rant to him often and they have their occasional arguments over petty things ( ah siblings)

Naoya knows about Mona’s crush on Yuuta…he promised he’d slip in a good word about her to the Gogo clan so they’ll consider her for their younger son.

Well to be fair the entire Zenin family knows about her crush, they find it cute and funny.

Maki, Mai and Megumi will sometimes subtly make up excuses and set Yuuta and Mona up 😄

Toji even promised he’d introduce and get her in touch with Y/N L/N one day …maybe she’ll help Mona get a better dressing sense because this girl is dressed like a old time Victorian porcelain doll 😔

Mona feels lonely often but looking into her family’s actions more closely perhaps they aren’t ashamed of her after all 💙. But then again all of this could be wishful thinking…what they are just playing with her ? The fear that all his kindness is a joke for their amusement keeps Mona up often at night

Mona’s official character look : (thank you picrew for saving my ass) I’d draw her personally but my art style is garbage also my chemistry work is pending 😭

#series: sincerely not #sincerely not #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #ocs

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thekisforkeats · 3 years

Text

So a European told me today “must be nice to have a culture.”

And I... kind of lost it.

Context: we’d been chatting for a while, and I’d already had to deal with a couple of moments of... white people being white. Being clueless and talking over people, not being outright racist but saying clueless shit. The first couple of times I explained what was wrong and moved on.

To try to lighten the mood, I shared a video of the Métis jig that’s been going around. It’s a really great dance, and the video has some context on it--specifically that the dance had been suppressed for a long time.

I was talking about the Métis people, and how they had created their own unique culture, which I personally find really fascinating and inspiring as a mixed indigenous/Native person. It’s a hopeful thing--even if they wound up losing a lot of that culture, and having to fight to get it back, there was a time where people could create new things without having to burn down the old.

(And I am not Métis, so if I am misrepresenting Métis culture and history here please feel free to correct me.)

But the key thing is that I mentioned being “cut off from everything.” Because I am. Because I cannot wholly embrace my European ancestry. Because I don’t know Kanien’kahe:ka or Choctaw. Because I am stuck between two worlds and sometimes it feels like a struggle to try to create anything new, any hopeful way forward.

And then they said “it must be nice to have a culture.”

This is a European. Living in Europe.

I lost it.

Any white person, and particularly any European, who thinks “I don’t have a culture”--don’t try to justify this stance. Stop and consider that you don’t feel you have a culture because your culture took over the world. Literally, Western European culture is everywhere.

And yes, I am lumping in all of Europe here, and no, I don’t care how different you all think you are, I was getting the same exact attitude from someone in France and someone in the UK. An attitude of “my specific experience is better than anyone else’s.” An attitude of “I don’t know about this so I will disparage it instead of politely asking questions.” An attitude of becoming defensive upon being called out. The same attitude I get from American white people. You’re not that different. You’re really not.

Culture is about food, and language, and art, and religion, and music.

I do not eat the food of my Native ancestors. I don’t even know what most of it was, and if I did, I couldn’t find it in a grocery store, and where I can it’s being marked up for white people to eat. (Wild rice, anyone?)

I do not know their languages, and I probably never will. There’s no Duolingo for Choctaw or Kanien’kahe:ka

If I use art or music of my ancestors I am derided and belittled or else white people come in to steal it and claim it as their own.

My ancestral religions were outlawed in the US until three years before I was born.

And before any European goes “well that’s the US, not me!” No. No. It’s you. It’s still you. The US just imported all the colonialist bullshit your ancestors put out there, and you’re still being isolationist and racist while the world is on fire.

The saddest part is, I don’t hate European culture as such. I am mixed! Many of my ancestors were from the UK or France or Austria! I love frybread, and I love soda bread, and I love strudel! I honor all of my ancestors, and the complex and difficult relationship I have with them. Some of my ancestors are the same people who did the colonizing and the genocide. I have to live with that. But many of them were good people living difficult lives, just like many of the people I know today.

I owe a great deal of my moral and ethical upbringing to my Oma, who was Austrian. She was 9 years old when the Nazis came--invited in, I will note, as she made sure we knew--and her family detested them, and she lost friends. She left as soon as she could. She taught me about her homeland, and she taught me about solidarity, and about the evils of sympathizers. She taught me about the Holocaust. She refused to let those horrible things go silent to her children and grandchildren. She did her best to teach us what she knew of my Opa’s culture, the few things he’d shared when their children were young, because she knew it was important. She was not perfect, but she tried.

White Europeans do not have to continue to be complicit in racism and colonialism and genocide. You can choose to do better.

The first thing to do? Shut up. Seriously. Stop talking. Sit down and listen. Maybe it’s hard, maybe you’ve come from an abusive background, maybe you’re neurodivergent. Maybe you’ve had to be quiet all your life already.

But I am all of those things, too, and I am a survivor of a very recent attempted genocide. Imagine how much time I have spent in my life being talked over. Being told to be quiet. To not make a scene.

Maybe you’re young, but I knew better than to say that sort of thing before I hit puberty. I had to, because to be a person of color--even a mixed one, even one with light enough skin to pass for white--is to be deeply aware of these things at all times.

Which is not to say I haven’t had my moments. I have. But dear gods am I aware of them.

And that’s the thing--the lack of awareness. The lack of consideration. The continual spouting of something clueless and hurtful and then “oh I didn’t know” as the response.

You should know. If you don’t, then go learn.

And for the love of all that is holy, if you read this in the tags and you’re some random person who didn’t already follow me, don’t come into my damn inbox looking for education, because I will kick your ass out so fast your head will spin. If you’re on the internet in 2021, there are so many resources about European colonization and white supremacy that you have no excuse not to at least try to learn things on your own.

The one lesson I will give? Stop talking. Start listening. I don’t need to hear your cutesy shit about how different France and England are from each other. You both did horrible awful fucked up things in the not-so-distant past. Stop talking about yourselves and start listening to the people affected.

#racism tw #genocide tw #indigenous stuff #ndn #fucking white people #i am not vaguing #i am going to link this somewhere the people involved can see it #but i think it's a good general message?#just #stop #listen #learn #also i need to vent #i really need to vent #this made me cry #it hurt so fucking much #and it's part of the reason so many poc never feel safe around white people #because we never know when you're going to come out with this sort of thing #long post for ts

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

I don't give a damn

Steve x f!reader

Summary: Sometimes Steve's forgets how times have changed. You're there to sing him a song about it.

Warnings: swearing, drinking, kisses, themes of sexism, i guess spoilers for Annie Get Your Gun (although that's from the 50s so I don't really think it needs much warning lol)

Word Count: 3020

a/n: another karaoke fic (because I wasn't kidding when I said I love them). Most of the songs I've been listening to have come from a playlist aptly titled ffs. It stands for both "for fucks sake" and "feminist fight songs" in my mind, hence the similar theme of this fic and My Name Isn't. This one was inspired by Joan Jett's "Bad Reputation"!

Masterlist

You and Steve don't see eye to eye on most things. It's not that you don't get along. You respect each other too much to fight about everything, but you have differing opinions on most things.

Take movie night for example. Cap always wants to watch something from his list. He's always trying to pick a "classic".

Most of the time, you would rather watch something you haven't seen. Unless it's a comfort thing, you don't really like repeating movies.

You both understand the other's perspective, so rather than a screaming match you typically settle it with a game of rock, paper, scissors.

Unfortunately, that's how most of your interactions go.

Outside of missions and team building nights Tony forces upon the group, you don't spend much time with him. The two of you are just polar opposites.

The problem with that? You have a massive crush on Mr. America himself.

Not that anyone else would know that. You're highly trained in the art of covert operations. You know how to hide your feelings, although you are certain Natasha at least suspects something.

You've resigned yourself to taking this secret to your grave, that is until Cap says something one movie night that sets you on edge.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors, shoot!" You held out your fist, having chosen rock.

Steve smirks, covering your fist with his open palm. "Paper beats rock, time for another 'classic'." He squeezes your hand before letting go. He picks up his book, trailing the pencil down the page for the next movie.

The high you were currently riding from his touch quickly dissipated when he announced the movie he wanted to watch.

"Annie Get Your Gun is next on the list." He smiled, closing the book before returning it to his pocket.

You couldn't help but scoff, "who suggested that one?" Annoyed at the sexist themes of the 50s musical movie.

"Someone said to watch all of the best pictures/musicals from the Academy Awards to see how times have changed." Steve scrunched his face in thought. "I can't remember who though."

"What? Most of those movies are terrible if you ask me." You whined a bit, annoyed at the idea of watching your least favorite type of movies.

"Your just annoyed cause you lost rock, paper, scissors. Let the man cross it off his list and move on." Sam chimed in from across the room.

You huffed, making a face at Sam before turning to get more comfortable on the couch. "Fine, this one still sucks though." You frowned, nonplussed by the idea of watching another 'classic' with another sexist storyline.

Somehow, you sat through the musical without any interruptions, unless you counted aggressively rolling your eyes.

The second it was over, you were turning the TV off, excited to be done with it. You were three steps from the exit when Cap called out to you.

"I don't know why you hate that musical so much, Y/N. I thought it was sweet what Annie did for Frank."

You narrowed your eyes as you turned back to him. "Would you lose on purpose to 'get the girl'?" You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the phrase. "Would any of you?" You looked at all the men in the room.

"I don't think it'd be very fair. Wouldn't want her to think she was better than me if she's not. Besides, it depends on the girl." He may have been going for a flirty tone, but you just grew angrier at Steve's response.

"Right, because why should you have to pretend to be worse to appease someone else?" Everyone in the room could see where you were going with this. Everyone, that is, but Steve.

"Yeah, that's a good way of putting it." Steve nodded along, glad the two of you were finally agreeing on something.

"The why'd you think it was sweet when Annie did it?" You stepped closer, narrowing your eyes even farther. "The whole musical Frank was too stubborn, his ego too big, to deal with the fact that Annie was better than him. 'You can't get a man with a gun'? Bullshit, you could always shoot him." You let out a dry laugh at your own joke, completely fed up with sexism in movies being written off as love.

Steve was taken aback at how everything had shifted. He thought he was finally in agreement with you on something, so he clung to it. "But she did it for love... her reputation, all the medals, they still showed how good she was." Halfway through speaking, he realized he was only making it worse, but it was too late. The damage was done.

"For fuck's sake, she shouldn't have to pretend to be any less of a badass sharpshooter than she is to find love." With another roll of your eyes, you went to leave, stopping again at the sound of Steve's voice.

"Maybe she was just scared she wouldn't find anyone with that reputation." He nearly smacked himself for that one, why couldn't he just shut up? He just didn't want you to be mad at him.

With one hand on the doorway, you looked over your shoulder. "That reputation? I'd rather have that reputation than a relationship where I have to feed his ego." With that, you walked to the elevators, beyond ready to call it a night.

"I'm an idiot." Steve sighed, head in his hands, elbows on his knees while sitting on Bucky's bed.

"Yep. You just kept digging." Bucky agreed easily, not sure where to start with the advice.

Steve shot him a glare as he began pacing back and forth. "I mean, she clearly didn't like the movie. Why did I even start the conversation? I should have just let her walk away. She already barely tolerates my presence as it is. We disagree about everything, even if we rarely fight over it. I should've just cut my losses and enjoyed the time we spent together, even if it was with everyone."

"Punk, you need to relax. Just go apologize, then maybe you'll actually go to sleep at some point tonight." Bucky shoved Steve out the door, slamming it shut before he could object.

Mumbling about what a jerk Bucky is, Steve made his way to your door. He hesitated, turned around, walked a few steps, turned around again, and eventually knocked.

You opened the door with a yawn, having been close to sleep when the noise startled you. "What d'ya need, Cap?"

He couldn't help but smile at your sleepy state, never having seen you this unguarded before. "Uh, I just wanted to apologize for earlier. You're entitled to your opinion, and there was no reason for me to fight you on it."

A look of annoyance briefly flashed across your face at the mention of the movie, but you relaxed given his apology. "I'm glad we can agree then. It's a terrible movie."

"Oh, no, I still like the movie." He had never wanted the ground to swallow him whole more than he did in that moment. Floundering for a way to undo what he just said, he started rambling. "I mean, you're right. It is kind of sexist, but that was just the time period you know? Like in the 40s, dames had to constantly worry about how their actions would affect their reputations." Up to that point, he had been staring at the floor, rapidly spewing more words. "I mean, you wouldn't want a bad reputation, right?" He chose the wrong sentence to make eye contact.

The sleepy, slightly confused smile was gone, replaced by a look he had hoped to never have directed at him. You spoke with an eerie sort of calm when you replied. "I think you're a little stuck in the 40s, Cap. I shouldn't have to worry about my reputation anymore than any man does his. Goodnight."

For the second time that night, a door slammed in his face. Bucky was definitely wrong. He would not be getting any sleep after talking to you.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's karaoke night. Yes, I've rented a bar. No, you may not stay home. We start at 8!" Tony walked in, made his announcement, and instantly walked right back out.

Everyone nodded, taking in the brief encounter with Tony. Well, everyone but you and Steve. The two of you were too stuck in your heads to listen to Tony's ramblings.

It had been three days since movie night, and Steve still hadn't worked up the courage to talk to you again.

What could he even say to explain why he was so flustered? "Sorry for the other night, I can't seem to form coherent thoughts when I'm around you, because even though we rarely talk outside of missions, I have a massive crush on you"? No, that was definitely coming on too strong.

He just needed to find the right words.

Meanwhile, you were confused. You never would have imagined Steve to be so stuck in the past. Of course, you understood things were different before he got stuck in the ice, but he's really made leaps and bounds in his understanding of feminism and equality since he first realized what year it was.

You wanted to ask him where the whole speech came from, but you were afraid of the answer.

"I guess that means it's time to get ready since it's already 6:30! I swear, he never gives us enough notice for these things." Wanda smiled at Vision, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, before grabbing you and Nat to go change.

"What are we getting ready for?" You asked when Wanda finally let go of your arm, having entered the elevator.

"Karaoke! Didn't you her Tony?" She eyed you suspiciously, clearly debating whether or not to look into your mind.

"She was too stuck in her head to notice me throwing popcorn at her, she definitely didn't listen to Tony." Nat smirked at your startled expression, laughing when you reached up to brush the kernels out of your hair.

You glared at both of them, "I was just thinking about some stuff. That's all."

"Yeah, some stuff named Steve." Wanda cackled, having decided to peak into your head. It was for your own good after all.

"Wanda! You said you wouldn't read my mind unprovoked." You wanted to be angry, but part of you was relieved you wouldn't have to keep this secret anymore.

"It was provoked! You wouldn't tell me what you were thinking about." Wanda smiled, also knowing that you were happy to have shared the secret, even if not by choice.

"And don't try to change the subject. Steve, huh? Somebody's got a crush." She was taunting you like a child would on a playground, shaking her head back and forth for emphasis.

"Well, yeah, but that's not what I why I was thinking about him." They each gave you a pointed look, obviously not believing you. "Seriously! I was thinking about movie night." You frowned, upset at the memory.

You quickly filled them in on what Steve said when he came to talk to you as you made your way to Nat's room to get ready. (She has the biggest vanity, so it makes the most sense to go to her room).

"I can't picture Steve trying to defend himself like that. Normally if he's fallen back into his old ways, someone points it out and he apologizes." Nat made a face, trying to put two and two together. "Unless..." She looked at Wanda, gesturing for her to read her mind.

"Oh my god!" Wanda squealed, nearly knocking you over with her excitement. "Steve's got a crush, toooooo." She happily dragged it out, much to Nat's amusement.

"Please, the man barely talks to me as it is. Our most substantial conversation revolved around my 'bad reputation' or lack thereof." You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the memory. "I seriously doubt he's got a crush. I do want to fix this though. I don't like when people are avoiding me. I get all stressed about accidentally running into them."

"He totally has a crush." Wanda smiled again.

"It's the only reason he would turn into a rambling idiot in front of you." Nat added.

"What song should I sing tonight?" You desperately tried to change the subject.

Wanda smirked, already having a perfect song in mind. "I think I've got one that could solve both your problems..." She filled you and Nat in on her plan, and although you doubted the crush aspect of it all, it was a good way to break the ice in terms of Steve avoiding you.

Hopefully it would show him you were more confused than upset, and everything would work out.

You changed quickly, embracing 80s fashion to go with your song choice. You wore black leather pants and a matching jacket, slipping on a tight red shirt underneath. Although, you still did your hair like you normally would, not fully committing to the 80s vibes.

With the addition of some red lipstick, a rarity for you, you were ready. Wanda and Nat finished their looks as well, and the three of you left for the bar.

You were honestly a little surprised when Steve walked up to you immediately after you walked into the bar. He handed you your favorite drink, smiling as he took in your ensemble.

"I wanted to apologize. I didn't mean all that stuff I said, just sometimes I forget how much things have changed and I-" You cut him off, not wanting him to suffer (or ramble) too much.

"Steve, it's fine. I was honestly more confused than anything else." He smiled, taking a sip from the drink he provided you.

"Really? You definitely looked angry when you slammed the door in my face." He outwardly cringed at bringing it up again.

"Okay, I was angry at first, but then I was mostly confused." You nodded, trying to convey that you weren't upset with him anymore.

"Good. I'm glad because avoiding you was getting pretty difficult." He wanted to smack himself again. Why does he always say the stupidest things around you?

To his relief, you laughed at his 'joke'. "Plus, this makes my song choice even more fun." You winked before walking back over to Wanda and Nat, leaving Steve to wonder about your performance.

"Y/N! You're up next." Tony called from his seat near the stage. He really liked to enforce his 'everyone must participate in team building, that's how it becomes team building' philosophy when it comes to karaoke night.

You couldn't help but smirk at Steve as he whipped his head around to witness you walking onto the stage. He's been eagerly awaiting your performance.

Everyone who knew the song started laughing at the first sounds of the guitar. The two super soldiers though? They were confused.

"I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation."

Once you started singing, you couldn't take your eyes off of Steve. He was blushing at being called out, Bucky's hysterical laughter next to him not really helping the situation.

"Living in the past, it's a new generation."

Bucky nearly fell out of his chair laughing. Even Steve had a smile on his face. You bobbed your head to the music, relying on your previous drinks to really get into the performance.

"A girl can do what she wants to do, and that's what I'm gonna do. And I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation. Oh no, not me."

You put air quotes around bad, really playing it up since everyone was having so much fun with it. Tony, Nat, Wanda, and Sam were jumping around, dancing as you sang. Bucky was still trying to catch his breath from laughing so hard. Steve was full on grinning by the last chorus, slightly shaking his head at your antics.

"So, why should I care about a bad reputation, anyway?"

In typical Tony fashion, he saing along for the "oh no, not me" bit of the song, encouraging everyone to scream the words with him.

By the time the song was over, you were a little out of breath, sweating a bit from the lights.

"Now's your chance, punk. Go bring her another drink." Bucky shoved the glass in his hand and gave Steve a slight push in your direction as you walked off the small stage.

You hugged Nat and Wanda before making your way toward the bar. Steve intercepted you, handing you the freshly made drink.

You smiled, uttering a quick thanks before eagerly taking a sip. The cold liquid did wonders for your parched throat.

"That was quite the performance. Really called me out 'on my bullshit' as you would say." You couldn't help but laugh and tease him a bit more.

"Captain, language!" You placed your empty hand on his shoulder, sliding down to his chest with your next question. "Whatever will the world think of you?"

"Well, recently I've adopted a new motto." He whispered, leaning in closer so you could here. "I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation."

Caught off guard by his use of the lyric, you laughed, leaning into your hand on his chest for support.

"Something we agree on then." Your breath caught in your throat when you realized just how close he was.

"I think there's one more thing we agree on..." He trailed off, eyes quickly glancing down at your lips.

"What might that be, Cap?" Your eyes drifted down his face as well, giving him enough courage to lean in.

His lips caught yours in a passionate kiss. He pulled you closer as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The two of you moved in sync, as if you were made for each other.

You were so lost in each other, you paid no attention to the cheers from your teammates. You didn't even register Nat and Wanda screaming "I told you so" as Steve pulled you in for a second kiss.

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america #marvel fic #marvel

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ves-is-writing-bnha-again · 3 years

Text

Three's a Crowd

A/n: Did I just spend 10 hours straight, writing this? Yes. Is it currently 7am? Also yes. Do I care? Not really.

Warning(s): angst, hurt/comfort

Pairing(s): Hitoshi Shinsou x reader, Shouto Todoroki x reader

“Shinsou! Stop it! Let him go!” The teacher shouted, distressed by the sudden turn of events. Shinsou, only 4 years old and not fully understanding what’s happening, began to get upset, “What are you doing to him?!” She cried, shaking the boy in front of him, “I don’t know.” He said quietly, tears building up and rolling down his cheeks, “Well stop it!” The teacher said sternly and he only cried harder. The teachers assistant came over to see what was happening, “Looks like the kid’s eyes are fogged over. Might be a type of mind control.” He said calmly, not even acknowledging Shinsou crying behind him, “Well make him stop!” The teacher snapped and the assistant gave him a stern look, “Kid cut it out, let him go you could be hurting him.” He scolding Shinsou which made him cry even more, “I don’t know how!” He cried.

He felt arms wrap around him, and while he couldn’t see clearly due to the tears blurring his vision, he could make out a head of h/c hair and big e/c eyes looking at him. He immediately started to feel calm and next thing he knew, the boy in front of him shook his head and made a beeline for the teacher, hiding behind her.

For weeks, other kids avoided him. He heard his teachers talking about him in passing, apparently he had developed his quirk, but nobody knew due to it being a mental one. It wasn’t until he accidentally brainwashed the boy when trying to ask him if he wanted to play that anyone had realized it. After that, he was deemed too dangerous to be left alone with any of the others, under constant supervision. Not that it mattered seeing as the others didn’t seem to want to be near him anyway.

Except for one. One he came to know as Y/n.

They were so sweet to him. Unlike everyone else, they would approach him when told to find a buddy for arts and crafts, sit with him during snack time. Would even join him during nap time. When outside for recess, they would ask if he wanted to join them on the swings, or just sit and play with toys. The two of them became inseparable.

Teachers were worried he had brainwashed them and kept interfering, trying to separate the two, but that was quickly put to a stop when Y/n’s father told them off for trying to isolate a child after hearing about how Y/n was upset about not being allowed to play with Shinsou and witnessing first hand at drop off how the staff kept them from going near him. After that, Y/n was allowed to be near him, but it came with other classmates not wanting to be near them either, not that they cared.

The two remained best friends even once they reached middle school and the villain comments started. Y/n stuck with him every time a nasty comment was thrown his way, even tried to fight a few people, but Shinsou never let it get too far. He knew Y/n’s dream of being a hero, and didn’t want them to get in trouble and jeopardize it for him. He wanted to be a hero as well, and part of that is keeping those you care about safe, which included keeping your best friend from making a dumb mistake like fighting someone for making a passing comment.

However, that never stopped him from fighting a couple people. He didn’t care much for the villain comments. They hurt a bit yeah, but he ignored them when he could. He drew the line at people calling Y/n weak though. A hard line at that. Y/n had a healing quirk, good for physical injuries, but also emotional ones as well. Could heal a bone and a broken heart with a single hug or touch of the hand. It was how they calmed him down so quickly when they were younger. Any anger or sadness Shinsou felt was gone within seconds when they were around, but he was certain at this point that it wasn’t their quirk at play, that was just how he felt around them.

Running down the street, Shinsou was cursing himself. He woke up late and missed the train, having to wait for the next one in order to get to Y/n’s house in time. It was their birthday, and he had made plans with them to go out and get lunch together. It wasn’t just a special day for that reason. Today was the day he was going to ask them out as well. If the damn train would hurry up that is. Sitting in his seat, bag with their gift in one hand, phone in the other, he sent them a text, leg bouncing with anticipation. He knows they wouldn’t be mad at him, but damn he would feel bad if they got upset thinking he forgot.

The train arrived and he made a beeline inside to the closest seat, sitting down right as his phone buzzed. Checking it, he noticed it was a text from Y/n, letting him know that it was fine if he was late. Smiling at his phone he heard someone next to him chuckle. Looking to his right, he saw an older couple looking at him, “A grin like that must mean they’re pretty special hm?” The woman asked and he nodded, a faint blush appearing, “Very special.” He responded and they gave him a knowing look.

A little while later, he reached his stop and rushed off the train, booking it down the street, nearly running into several people before finally arriving at Y/n’s house. He knocked on the door and was greeted by their father, who grinned upon seeing Shinsou, still slightly out of breath, standing there, “Hey there, they’re up in their room” He said, letting Shinsou inside.

Thanking him, Shinsou made his way upstairs to their room, not bothering to knock when he came in. Y/n was sitting at their desk, looking at their phone only to turn and see him when they heard him come in.

“About time.” They said jokingly and he smiled, “Sorry, overslept.” He said sheepishly, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. Y/n smiled back at him, “I’d rather you oversleep than not sleep at all.” They said, giving him that same look they always gave him when he didn’t sleep.

Remembering the gift, he held the bag out, “Happy birthday” He said, face turning a light pink when they grinned, “Aww, you didn’t have to get me anything, you know hanging out with you is enough for me.” They said, taking the bag, “I wanted to.” He said, “It’s not much I know, I only just recently started working at that cafe so I didn’t have much saved up but I saw it and thought of you so I-” He was cut off when they rushed towards him, hugging him tightly, “I love it.” They said, pulling away and admiring the small f/c teddy bear.

They went over to their bed, placing the bear by their pillow before grabbing their shoes and putting them on. Turning back to him, they grinned, “You ready?” They asked and he nodded, “After all that running I did, I’m starving.” He replied.

They grabbed his arm and tugged him out of their room, and downstairs, “Bye dad, we’ll be back in an hour or two!” They called before shutting the front door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Did you hear about the kid on the news that got attacked by that slime looking monster?” Y/n asked as they sat in the park, eating the food they got, “The blond one?” Shinsou asked and they nodded, “Yeah I heard, can you believe that one kid just went running in like that? Even most of the pros couldn’t handle it and he just jumped right in. He’s insane.” He said and they laughed, “Dad said he didn’t know whether the kid was very brave or very stupid.” They said, “Although I wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up being in the hero course at UA. He seemed to have some potential from the looks of it with the way he just dived right in wanting to help the guy.” They added and he nodded.

“Speaking of UA, have you heard anything about which class you’d be in?” They asked and he nodded, “Got put in general studies.” He said bitterly, glaring at the ground, “Oh. Well, maybe they just put you there cause they ran out of room? Your quirk is amazing, there has to be some good reason.” They said, “You mean other than that they probably think it’s too much of a villainous quirk?” He grumbled.

They put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, don’t say that. I’m sure you’ll find a way to be a hero, and a great one at that.” They said, giving him that same cheerful smile that always managed to make him feel better and melt him at the same time.

“What about you?” He asked, ignoring his racing heart, “You know what class you’re in?” Y/n looked hesitant for a moment and he looked at them, raising an eyebrow. They mumbled something he couldn’t quite hear, “What?” He asked and they looked at him, “I got into the hero course. 1-A to be specific.” They said, loud enough for him to hear.

He was silent for a while, “Toshi? I’m sorry.” They said and he looked at them, “Sorry for what? It’s good you got in. At least one of us made it.” He told them, giving them a genuine smile. He couldn’t be mad at you, this had been your dream for years, who was he to get mad at you for following it?

Y/n leaned forward and pulled him into a hug, arms wrapped around his neck as one of his wrapped around their waist, “Hey I’m always gonna support you even if I can’t be right by your side okay?” He said, though it was slightly muffled and they nodded, holding him for a few more seconds before moving back to look at him, “I know you would, I’d do the same for you.” They said.

Shinsou wasn’t really sure what came over him. He wanted his confession to be something memorable. He had a little speech that he practiced and everything, but all the words he had just disappeared in that moment and he couldn’t help himself. With the hand that wasn’t currently on their waist, he cupped their face and leaned in slightly, testing the waters to see how they would react. When they didn’t pull away, he closed the gap. Pressing a light kiss to their lips before pulling away slightly. He felt their hands on his face as they brought him back and kissed him again.

He felt a drop of water hit his face and he pulled away and looked up at the sky. There seemed to be more clouds than before and he felt another drop hit his nose, “We need to go, grab the stuff.” He said, quickly grabbing their things and standing, before helping them up as more rain started pouring.

Grabbing their hand, the two took off back to Y/n’s house which luckily was about five or so minutes away from the park. The rain was pouring and both of them were absolutely soaked by the time they arrived and reached the front door, laughing as they caught their breath, “I promise...I didn’t know it would rain.” He said and they smiled, “Yeah I figured.” They said before cupping his face and pressing a light, quick kiss to his lips before pulling away and taking out their key to unlock the door.

Stepping inside, Y/n’s father was sitting on the couch watching tv. He looked over at them, “You two seem a bit wet.” He joked as they took off their shoes. Y/n rolled their eyes, but smiled, “Can he stay until the rain stops?” They asked and he nodded, “I’ll drive him home later.” He said and the pair went upstairs to change, Shinsou having a set of clothes he left the last time he spent the night. Y/n tossed him a towel as they sat on the bed and picked up the bear, holding it to their chest as he dried his hair, “Let’s watch a movie.” They said, sitting with their back against the wall, and he agreed.

Half an hour into the movie, Y/n fell asleep, leaning against his shoulder. Shinsou didn’t quite get to ask them out how he wanted, but he liked how things turned out nonetheless.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three months later, Y/n stood with Shinsou at the entrance of UA. They lightly squeezed his hand, nervous but excited, “You ready?” He asked and they hesitated, “I don’t like the fact that you won’t be there. I don’t know anyone in my class.” They said as they began walking to the doors, “You’ll be fine, we’ll see each other in the halls and during lunch, it’s not like we’ll be completely separated.” He said reassuring them.

Eventually, they reached Y/n’s classroom. Shinsou wrapped his arm around their waist and kissed their forehead, “Good luck.” He told them and they smiled, “You too.” They said as he walked away to his own class.

Stepping into the room, there were already a handful of students talking and getting to know each other. A taller guy with dark hair and glasses appeared to be lecturing a blond guy about something, what he was talking about they weren’t sure, but the blond looked smug. Wait! They knew him! He was the guy on the news! And the kid with the green hair behind him is the one that went running in!

Before Y/n could think anymore about it, someone approached them, she had short chin length brown hair, and big brown eyes, “Hey! I’m Uraraka! Are you excited for the first day?” She asked them and they nodded, “Oh absolutely! I’ve always dreamed about being here.” They said and she smiled, “Me too! This is so exciting! I can’t wait to have fun and make new friends!” She cheered. As more people came into the room, Uraraka gestured for Y/n to follow her, “Come sit with me! I feel like we’ll be good friends!” She said, heading back to her desk as they trailed after her. Sitting at the desk next to hers, and setting their bag next to them, they looked up to see a boy walk in. He had red and white hair split perfectly down the middle and different colored eyes with the right eye being grey, and the left one being a bright turquoise. He seemed to have a red scar around his left eye, that was a stark contrast to his fair skin.

“Who is that?” Uraraka whispered while pointing to the boy that just came in, seeing as the class was starting to quiet down and settle in their seats as the teacher arrived. Y/n shrugged, not knowing the answer, “No idea.” They replied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a month since school started. Y/n was still recovering from the USJ incident. Due to having their own healing quirk, they didn’t need to visit recovery girl, having healed themselves after being carried out due to breaking their right leg in several places after being hit and thrown back by the nomu. Kirishima being the one that carried them with Todoroki applying ice to keep any swelling down, as instructed by All Might.

The downside of Y/n’s healing quirk is that while they can heal any physical injuries, they’re still left extremely sore for a while afterwards, usually about the same period of time it would have taken to heal had they not used their quirk. Unfortunately that meant having to walk around with a crutch until it went away and they could walk without searing pain shooting up their leg with every step.

They were heading back from lunch, having spent it with Shinsou, when they found themselves struggling to get down the stairs without falling, each step down hurting more than the last. One step at a time and everything will be fine, they might be a bit late to class but Aizawa said he’d understand.

“Do you need some help?” A voice said causing them to jump slightly. They looked up to see Todoroki, “Oh it’s you.” They said, shooting him a quick smile, “No thanks, I’ll be fine.” They said, cursing internally about the amount of stairs there were, “Are you sure?” He asked again and they nodded.

“Why didn’t you take the elevator?” He asked them, and they sighed, “It’s locked and Principle Nezu wouldn’t give me a key. Said that since my leg isn’t actually broken anymore, I can get down the stairs just fine.” They told him and he frowned, watching them carefully take another step, “You’ll be late to class this way.” He said and they shrugged, “Aizawa said he would understand. You should get to class though, he may be understanding of my situation but he won’t be as forgiving for you, I don’t want you getting in trouble.” They said, but he didn’t leave.

“Let me help you.” He said, they paused and looked at him, “You don’t have to do that, I’ll be fine.” They said, not wanting him to be late to class cause of them, “No, but I want to. I don’t want you being late either.” He said, coming up the steps to where they were, “Okay.” They said, giving in. Aizawa may have been understanding, but they hated being late and having the feeling of everyone staring as they walked in.

Wrapping one arm around their waist and the other behind their knees, he scooped them up and carried them down the rest of the stairs as they held their crutch in one hand while the other arm wrapped around his shoulders. He didn’t put them down once they reached the bottom, however, and instead just continued on to class, only setting them down once they were outside the classroom.

“Thank you Todoroki, but you didn’t have to carry me all the way to class.” They said as they felt their face heat up slightly, “I didn’t want you struggling if I could do something about it.” He replied before opening the door and letting them walk in first. Thanking him again, they made their way to their seat where Uraraka watched them with a grin.

“Soo what were you and Todoroki doing together?” She asked as they sat down, “He was just helping me cause I was having trouble getting down the stairs.” They said and she hummed, “He’s helping you down the stairs now, but who knows what could happen in the future.” She said, a mischievous look in her eye. She’s been spending too much time with Mina.

The bell rang before they could respond and Aizawa came in with Midnight as Y/n started drawing in their notebook. After a few minutes, chatter filled the room, “Y/n did you hear?! There’s gonna be a sports festival!” Uraraka said, excited, as Mina sat down in the empty seat in front of them, Y/n hadn’t noticed people had gotten up to work together on assignments.

“Yeah! Isn’t this amazing? This is a great chance to show off our skills!” Mina cheered as Jirou joined the conversation, “Heard from Kaminari there’s gonna be pros watching, and if we do well they might let us intern at their agencies.” She said as they all got started on their assignment, “Are you serious?” Y/n asked and she nodded, “Definitely. Can you imagine? Interning at a pro hero’s agency? Pros like Fatgum, Best Jeanist, Endeavor..” She said, and Y/n frowned upon hearing the name Endeavor.

“You don’t like Endeavor Y/n?” Mina asked, they felt eyes burning into the side of their head as they shook their head, “How come? He seems kinda cool. I mean, he is number two hero for a reason.” Uraraka said and Y/n shrugged, “I just don’t like him. He seems like he’s only a hero for the fame and power aspect of it rather than genuinely wanting to help people. I mean, have you seen the man’s eyes? He looks like he’s judging everyone he comes into contact with, not friendly at all.” They said, and the others nodded, “That’s true, he does seem pretty cold a lot of the time.” Jirou stated. The intense feeling of being watched hadn’t wavered once and Y/n looked around to try and see where it was coming from and for a brief second they made eye contact with Todoroki before he looked away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on! You got this!” Y/n cheered with the crowd as they watched the sports festival from the stands. Unfortunately, their leg still wasn’t better by the time the festival came and they couldn’t participate, but they were having a blast watching. It was Shinsou and Midoriya’s time to fight, and Y/n was rooting for Shinsou, but they couldn’t deny Midoriya was doing really well.

The crowd was silent as they watched Midoriya simply turn around and start walking towards the white line. Shinsou was gonna make him walk out of bounds. They were sitting on the edge of their seat as it happened, Y/n sitting next to Todoroki as they watched in anticipation.

“Who are you rooting for in this one?” He asked them, “Shinsou, but Midoriya is doing better than I expected.” They replied as Midoriya seemed to be pausing.

Somehow, Midoriya managed to break free of Shinsou’s brainwashing, and covered his mouth to keep from speaking. He'd figured out how Shinsou’s quirk works.

Y/n watched as they started fighting before eventually Midoriya flipped him and threw him onto his back. They jumped and gasped as their hands covered their mouth as Shinsou laid there on the ground, out of bounds. The crowd cheered as he got up and Midoriya was announced the winner, “I gotta go, I’ll be back.” They told Todoroki before quickly grabbing their crutch and getting up, moving up the stairs as fast as possible.

Eventually, they managed to find Shinsou walking down the hall with his head down, “Toshi!” They called and he stopped and turned to face them. They stopped in front of him and cupped his face with their left hand, “Are you okay?” They asked while inspecting him, worried, “Hey hey, I’m alright, just a bit bruised up. You should go sit back down, I don’t want you walking around when you don’t need to be.” He said, grabbing their hand and holding it, “I’m gonna go see recovery girl, I’ll see you later alright?” He said, kissing the back of their hand, and they nodded, “Okay.” They said, and he walked away. They watched him leave, disappearing around the corner and they made their way back to their seat.

Todoroki wasn’t there when they came back and for a moment they wondered where he had gone, until Present Mic announced his name and they saw him up against Sero, “Poor Sero.” They said. He was a pretty good fighter, but he was no match against Todoroki considering how powerful he was. The match was over about as quick as it started, with Todoroki unleashing a blast of ice so powerful it overtook half the arena. The crowd was dead silent. Even midnight was half frozen which would have made Y/n laugh if they weren’t stunned.

Once most of the ice was melted, the festival continued on and eventually it was time for Todoroki and Midoriya’s fight. Y/n hoped that he didn’t freeze half the arena again, even if it was really cool.

Midoriya kept dodging his attacks as Todoroki shot blast after blast of ice. They seemed to be arguing about something, but Y/n wasn’t sure about what exactly. Finally, Midoriya managed to land a hit that left Todoroki doubled over, and they heard him shout “It’s yours! Your quirk not his!”

That seemed to have struck a chord with Todoroki as he paused, staring at Midoriya but seeming to be lost in thought. Next thing they knew, his left side erupted into flames, the fire reaching out several feet around him. The look on his face made him look insane, but there also seemed to be a hint of gratitude from what Y/n could tell.

They heard Endeavor call his name, yelling some nonsense Y/n couldn’t care enough about to pay attention to, more focused on the flames surrounding Todoroki as pillars of ice formed on his right side. Before they knew it, there was a bright flash as debris flew through the air, a large gust of wind blowing through as dust filled the arena, preventing anyone in the stands from seeing what’s happening. Y/n gripped the arm of their seat as they shielded their face from the dust and debris, before getting hit by a piece roughly the size of their hand, and after that. Nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~

Todoroki sat in Recovery girl’s office, next to where Y/n was laying in the bed. He felt responsible for what happened to them and wanted to apologize. The sports festival had ended an hour ago, with him coming in second place. His dad had tried to approach him after, but the moment Momo had said Y/n was in the infirmary after getting hit by a piece of debris, he ignored his dad and rushed to where they were.

He felt so guilty, knowing that the debris was technically caused by him. He heard movement coming from the bed and looked up to see Y/n looking around, squinting and blinking a few times before focusing on him.

“I’m sorry." He blurted before they could say anything, “I should have been careful and paid attention. I guess I forgot about my surroundings for a moment.” He said and they gave him a small smile, “It’s okay, I know you didn’t do it intentionally.” They reassured, “You still got hurt.” He said, but they waved it off, “I’ll be fine. Might miss a few days of class, but lucky for me, any head injuries tend to heal faster.” They said.

“Is the festival over?” They asked and he nodded, “Did you win?” They asked again, “No, I came in second. Bakugou won. You should have seen him though. They had to chain him up and everything because he was angry about how he won. They even had to put a metal mask thing over his mouth because he kept screaming and cursing.” He told them, and they laughed before flinching.

“Here.” He said, standing quickly, forming a small piece of ice in his hand and wrapping it in a washcloth placed on the table next to the bed before gently holding it against the area they got hit, “Thanks.” They said, smiling at him, and he couldn’t help but give the smallest smile back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks had passed since the sports festival. Todoroki was still rather reserved, but he seemed more open with talking to Midoriya and Y/n, and along with them came talking to Iida and Uraraka.

They were all gathered at lunch, Y/n had wanted to be with Shinsou but he was out sick so they decided to spend it with Uraraka who happened to be sitting with the others. They were talking about the internships and who they might apply for when Y/n heard Endeavor being mentioned and frowned again.

“Y/n you don’t seem to like Endeavor much do you?” Midoriya asked and they shook their head, “Not really.” They said, continuing to eat their soba, “How come?” Momo asked, “He just seems...cocky? Really mean as well. Like that robbery that took place last week that he helped stop? He acted like he did all the work and the others were just there for aesthetics. I don’t know, I just really hate Endeavor and everything he has ever done.” They said, shrugging as they kept eating and Iida gasped, “How rude! You can’t speak of Todoroki’s father like that when he’s right there!” He said, gesturing to Todoroki who was sitting right across the table from them.

They choked a bit before looking at Todoroki, “He’s your dad?” They asked and he nodded, “Yeah.” He replied, and they nodded for a second, “Okay Endeavor has done one good thing.” They said and Todoroki’s face flushed a light pink, “I have two siblings.” He added, “Are they nice?” They asked and he shrugged, “Yeah I guess.” He replied, “Three good things then.” They said and Uraraka giggled as Todoroki’s face flushed a darker red.

Eventually the bell rang and they all headed back to class. For the rest of the day, Todoroki couldn’t stop thinking about what they said. They thought of him as something good? Him? He couldn’t help but feel warm and happy when they said that. Granted he’s felt like that around them for a while, but it increased tenfold when they said that.

“It’s pretty obvious Todoroki.” Midoriya said one night a month later while they were doing dishes after dinner in the new dorms. He looked at him for a second, “What’s obvious?” He asked as he dried the dish that was handed to him, “That you like Y/n. I mean, the way you look at them when they walk into the room? You look and act like they invented the stars.” Midoriya replied.

“And why are you saying this exactly?” Todoroki asked, ”You should tell them. From the looks of it, they like you too.” He replied, as he scrubbed one of the plates, “And how would I do that?” he asked again and Midoriya shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe just tell them you like them? They don’t seem like the type to like grand gestures or anything so maybe just tell them in person before or after class?” He suggested and Todoroki nodded, “Tell them after class.” He said out loud to himself. Didn’t sound too hard, so why did he feel so nervous?

~~~~

Todoroki was making his way to class. He had slept in a bit later than he intended and now he’s only got a few minutes or so before class starts.

Rushing down the hall, he slowed down before he reached the corner so he didn’t potentially run into anyone, but as he got closer he heard talking. Was that Y/n? His heart raced just at the thought of potentially being able to tell them before class or at least just see them.

But he heard another voice as well, it sounded much deeper. Stopping at the corner and peeking around it, he felt his heart drop into his stomach.

There was Y/n, standing there and talking to a guy with wild purple hair, what was his name again? Shinsou? Yeah that was it.

Maybe they were friends? No, not with how close they were standing, and... and it looks like they’re holding hands. Maybe they were just really close friends? His mind was racing up until he witnessed a scene that left him feeling numb and his mind blank.

Shinsou leaned down and kissed them for a few seconds before pulling away and saying he had to go or he’d be late for class. Y/n went into the classroom as Shinsou walked away in the other direction. Todoroki turned and leaned against the wall.

Even though he felt numb, he could feel his heart shattering into millions of pieces as tears welled up in his eyes. Of course they were taken. How could they not be? Someone as brilliant, breathtaking, and kind as they were of course someone would snatch them up once given the chance.

Realizing class started in about a minute, Todoroki collected himself. Putting on a neutral face, he walked into class. He didn’t spare a glance at Y/n, not wanting to break down, and instead kept his head down slightly as he made his way to his desk.

‘From the looks of it, they like you too.’ Perhaps not.

~~~~~

Once classes ended, Todoroki packed his belongings and left the room immediately, not wanting to risk Y/n coming over to talk to him like they usually did. He practically ran back to the dorms in order to avoid anyone who might ask why he was acting strange.

Rushing into his room, he slammed the door shut and locked it. Dropping his bag onto the floor next to him, he leaned back against the door and slid down until he was sitting on the floor as tears streamed down his face. Choking back a sob, not wanting anyone to hear him, he buried his face in his hands. Stupid, stupid. How stupid he was to think he had a chance. He sat there for what felt like hours, but was actually about ten minutes, crying before forcing himself up off the floor and over to his bed where he sat and grabbed a pillow, burying his face in it to muffle his sobbing. How pathetic was he to be crying over someone who probably didn’t even think about him nearly as often as he thought about them?

It made sense to him now, thinking back on it. All the times they weren’t in the lunchroom, those days they couldn’t hang out with him after school because they already had plans, the way they rushed off after the fight during the sports festival. How could he not have seen it? Was he too distracted by the feeling of butterflies he got around them? That slightly dazed feeling he got whenever they smiled at him? The tingling he felt whenever they touched him? How naive he was to think they could love him when they already loved someone else, to think they could love him at all.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he found himself waking up to someone knocking on his door. His eyes felt puffy and his face felt dry as he rubbed his eyes and sat up. Not once had he forgotten what happened. Part of him didn’t want to open the door because what if it was Y/n? At the same time, however, it could have been someone else. Looking at the time it was currently 6pm, around dinner, had he really slept for three hours?

Another knock sounded at the door, and he got out of bed. Dragging himself over to the door, he unlocked it and opened it abruptly, wanting to just figure out what the person wanted so he could go back to sleep.

Of course, of all the people it could have been, it was Y/n at his door.

“Hey dinner’s done are you- hey what’s wrong?” They asked, worried. He didn’t say anything and just stared at them blankly, “Shouto?” They questioned when he didn’t respond, but so many feelings were swirling around in him. His mind racing as he stared into those eyes he loved so much.

“Shouto-” “I love you.” He blurted and both of them froze. He slapped his hand over his mouth as he realized what he said. They stared at him with wide eyes, not saying a word.

He went to shut his door again, but they stopped him, “Wait.” They said, not letting him shut the door. He stopped, but didn’t look at them.

“Shouto please look at me.” They pleaded, and he did after a few seconds, “I love you too.” They said and he froze again, “You’re dating Shinsou.” He stated bluntly, removing his hand from his mouth, and they nodded, “Yeah, I know, and I talked to him about it this morning. I love both of you. Very much, and I can’t bear losing either of you. So I talked to him, and he said as long as you’re okay with it then I could be with you too. He said if I were to be with anyone else, he’d rather it be you anyway, he trusts you as much as I do.” They explained gently, stepping into his room cautiously before shutting the door.

He took a minute to process what they said. They love him? And want to be with him? He felt those butterflies again just thinking about it.

“Well? Would you be willing?” They asked, nervous. He looked at them for a brief second before nodding causing them to grin, “Come here.” They said, holding their arms out for a hug which he gladly fell into, pulling them as close to him as possible and hugging them tightly causing them to laugh as they peppered the side of his face with kisses.

“Can I kiss you?” He mumbled, his face buried in their shoulder, “Of course you can.” They said, and he pulled back slightly, cupping their face gently before pressing his lips to theirs. He felt his left side start to heat up and had to pull away much sooner than he would have liked to so he didn’t burn them which only made them laugh a bit before kissing his cheek.

“Come on, dinner’s been done for a while and Hitoshi always refuses to eat without me, we don’t want him getting too hungry or he gets rather dramatic.” They said and he smiled as they grabbed his hand and tugged him along out of the room.

Arriving downstairs, they both grab their food from the kitchen before joining the others. Shinsou looked over at them, “It’s about time, I thought I was gonna have to go up there and drag both of you down here.” He said with a lazy smirk, “Hush.” Y/n said, grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it before sitting down next to him, Todoroki sitting on their right. Shinsou eyed him for a second, “Did you tell him?” He asked and they smiled, “Perhaps.” They said, leaning into Todoroki’s side, “Finally.” Shinsou said, jokingly rolling his eyes causing Y/n to smack him with the pillow again.

“They’re so cute.” Mina said, watching the three of them, “Yeah...you owe me twenty bucks.” Jirou said, causing Mina to groan as Momo and Uraraka giggled.

#todoroki shouto #bnha todoroki #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #mha todoroki #bnha #shinsou hitoshi #bnha shinso hitoshi #mha hitoshi #shinsou x reader #bnha fluff #mha fluff #mha angst

142 notes · View notes

meltwonu · 4 years

Text

| 🎃 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖍 🎃 |

↪ ✦ playdate ✦

this chapter pairing; yandere!wonwoo x reader, side mingyu x reader

genre&warnings; yandere!wonwoo, kinda asshole!mingyu, creampies, sloppy seconds, intoxication, exhibitionism AND voyeurism, masturbation, dirty talk, one sided pining for all!!, kidnapping, stalking.

✖ That being said, I do NOT condone yandere-like/obsessive/possessive behaviour in real life. this is a work of fiction therefore I will indulge in it. If you do NOT like this kind of content, please just ignore it.

notes; if I’m being honest, the draft for this originally was completely different and I reworked it because I wasn’t satisfied with how it was turning out bc it was too similar to sea castles except mingyu and wonwoo were brothers kjdhfdkjh 😭😭 As always, thank you sooo much for the love and interest in Monster Mash! I know last chapter was.... erm, a lot. LMAO 😆 Have a great rest of your day/night and I’ll see yall tomorrow~! 🎃 👻 💕

word count; ~3800

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - x - x - x - x - x - x

you call me on the telephone, you feel so far away;

you tell me to come over, there’s some games you wanna play

i’m walking to your house, nobody’s home;

just me and you and you and me alone.

The relationship you share with Mingyu isn’t necessarily one that you like to talk about, much less acknowledge on most days.

“O-oh, fuck, M---Mingyu!”

It’s purely physical and a little destructive, in your opinion. Especially when you found yourself frustratingly liking him more than you ever imagined.

He bends your leg, ankle resting against his shoulder as he angles his thrusts to graze against your sweet spot. Shapes dance behind your eyelids, lips parting in a silent moan when you feel yourself already close to cumming.

But it’s Mingyu that cums first, hips stuttering as he growls, “That’s right, fuckin’ take all of it, baby.”

He rides out his high, pulling out of you and letting your leg down before you can even process what’s happening. “Hey, wait, but what about me?” You ask, voice small as you watch him get off of the bed. He tugs his pants on, plucking a shirt off of the floor as he throws it over his head.

“Sorry, I gotta go take care of some business back at campus, Mr. Lee needs the papers graded before tomorrow’s 8AM and I’m already late. You can stay here if you want though, bed’s all yours. I’ll be back in a bit, I---sorry, I’ll make it up to you later.”

He’s gone in a flash, door clicking shut behind him as you sit with your legs still parted. Typical.

Groaning, you flop onto your back against his bed sheets.

“Thanks for nothing.”

Wonwoo says it’s the last time.

But every time is the last time.

He wraps a hand around his cock, soft breaths making the window fog up in front of him as he watches you and Mingyu through the window. He times the movement of his hand to match Mingyu’s thrusts as he pretends it’s your warmth wrapped around his cock and not his own fist.

“Fuck, fuck , fuck…” He whispers in succession, feeling his abdomen tightening as he gets closer and closer to an orgasm.

Wonwoo watches as Mingyu bends your leg over his shoulder, mental images of you underneath him instead.

He remembers the first time he’d seen you in Mingyu’s bedroom, curiosity making him watch through his bedroom window as you fell to your knees in front of the other male. Wonwoo knew better than to watch, so he looked away, cheeks burning crimson before he ever so slowly turned back to the window.

He couldn’t help it.

Wonwoo had seen you around the university campus too, hanging around the art kids in the building opposite the Sciences building where he typically stayed with his small group of friends; Mingyu included. He thought you were cute and kind, especially when you happened to hang around their group for the day. And he liked you, even if he was too shy to ever say it.

Which was precisely why he couldn’t understand your attraction to Mingyu, of all people.

Mingyu was selfish, almost irritatingly so, and Wonwoo knew.

Wonwoo knew you deserved better too, someone much like himself. Someone who would take care of you better than Mingyu ever could.

Movement in the opposite window has Wonwoo pulling himself from his thoughts, brows furrowed when he sees Mingyu leaving and you still alone in the bedroom.

“What…?” He mumbles, slightly confused when he watches you flop onto your back.

God, what he would do to eat you out right now.

He tightens his grip around his cock, this time imagining himself eating you out, tongue against your clit while you moan out his name and tangle your fingers into his hair.

A stuttered moan falls from his lips as he cums into his palm, eyes clamped shut as the pleasure washes over him.

Wonwoo promises it’s the last time.

“Hey, did you hear about Jeonghan’s Halloween party next Saturday?”

“He’s throwing one?”

“Yeah, I heard everyone’s invited too.”

Wonwoo pretends to go through his textbook as he eavesdrops instead.

If everyone was invited, that surely meant that you’d be there too.

Mingyu glances over at you, tapping his pencil against the corner of his textbook. “Hey…” He starts, “Did you hear about Jeonghan’s party?”

You glance up from your own textbook, bored eyes on Mingyu who looks up at you from his bedroom floor. Neither of you had talked about the previous time; opting to forget about it since it wasn’t the first time either. “What about it?”

“Wanna go with me? I’ll make it up to you for last time.”

No, he wouldn’t.

“I guess.”

You step out of the Film Developing room, arms full of negatives when you accidentally run into a body that walks up from behind.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” The negatives spill to the floor, scattering all around you as you and the other person kneel down to collect them.

“It’s okay.” The deep voice replies.

“Oh, hey, Wonwoo!” You smile, “What are you doing in the Arts Building?”

He blushes a deep red, kneeling and stacking the negatives before placing them back in your arms. “Oh I--I do some film editing on my own and I--um, I was just wandering around. I had some free time, so I was curious.” Wonwoo shoots you a shy smile as he pushes his glasses up on his nose bridge.

Wonwoo was very cute.

“Oh! I didn’t know that! I feel like I’ve never seen you around here…” You trail off.

“Ah, yeah, I actually have a personal studio on the east end of town. It’s small but… I don’t have to share my things, which I’d prefer.” He smiles, eyes twinkling. “It’s no fun when people mess around with your things and ruin them, y’know?”

“Oh my gosh, I knooooow. Minghao always messes up my developing station and moves my shit around.” You keep talking but Wonwoo barely acknowledges it. Instead, he takes in your appearance, admiring you as you talk animatedly about god knows what.

God, why’d it have to be Mingyu.

“Hey, so are you coming on Saturday?” He blinks confusedly at you, “Huh? Sorry, I--I didn’t quite catch that last bit.”

“Oh, Jeonghan’s party! Everyone’s invited so I was wondering if you were coming!” His blush burns darker; were you asking him out?

“I’ll be there with Mingyu but if you show up, you should save me a drink!” His excitement falters slightly at the mention of Mingyu, but he does his best to send you a reassuring smile.

“Of course, I’ve got one with your name on it.”

Wonwoo was kind, patient and understanding from what you knew.

You’d only met him a few times and you knew he lived in the building across from Mingyu’s but all of your interactions with him had only ever been pleasant.

In another universe, maybe you would’ve been in a happy relationship with someone like Wonwoo.

A sigh escapes your lips as you get ready for Jeonghan’s party; short dress barely covering your ass when Mingyu saunters into his bathroom where you currently were.

“Jeez, who’re you trying to impress.” He mumbles, sidestepping you as he checks himself in the mirror.

“I just felt like being cute, that’s all.”

Mingyu grins, hands on your waist before they slide down to your ass. He squeezes hard; a chuckle on his lips when you mewl.

“Cute isn’t the word I’d go for with this ‘lil number but okay. Let’s get going.”

Mingyu drinks more than he should and he knows it.

He takes any drink someone puts in his hands and downs it before trying to find more which usually leads to a lot of 2AM drunk phone calls and quickies in the backseat of your car.

This time, however, you’re just as bad as he is; taking any drink available as you try to drown out the way you feel when you see Mingyu chatting up someone else across Jeonghan’s living room.

To be fair, you weren’t exclusive anyway.

But his eyes dance over to you, a cocky smirk on his face when he sees the effect he has on you. He knew how you felt too, even if you never said a word about it.

Mingyu didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had, even if he benefited from it more than you did. And the two of you were friends, albeit you weren’t sure for how much longer.

He leaves the other girl as he makes his way over to you, eyes unfocused when he presses you into the wall you’d been standing in front of.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.”

“Ngh, M--Mingyu, fuck--fuck, harder!”

Mingyu keeps you bent over the sink, hips slamming into your ass as he fucks you from behind in Jeonghan’s upstairs bathroom.

The loud music drowns out your loud moans and his filthy words as you eagerly fuck yourself on his cock. “Fuck, this tiny little dress of yours doesn’t do a damn thing. Bet you wanted me to fuck you just like this, huh? Bent over a fuckin’ sink at a party.”

Neither of you had even made the effort to get undressed as you hiked your dress up and tugged your panties to the side, hands planted firmly onto the mirror in front of you as you watched yourself get drunk off of his cock.

“G-god, yes, yes! Fuck me h-harder, damn it!” You whine. Mingyu slaps your ass at this, low grunts spilling from his lips. “Your cute ‘lil cunt begging to be filled with my cock at every second of the fuckin’ day. “ He slurs.

He feels his cock throbbing as he erratically thrusts into you, only a low groan on his lips before he’s cumming.

“O-oh, shit…”

You feel his thrusts slow down as he cums inside of you, a soft mewl on your lips at the feeling. You clench around him, shaking your hips slightly to get his attention back on you.

A sharp knock scares you both as Mingyu pulls out of you; panties slipping back into place like they’d never been touched.

“Hey! People need to use the bathroom, assholes!” Someone yells from the opposite side.

“Fuck, we need to go.” Mingyu grumbles, readjusting himself and zipping his denim back up.

You very slowly lift yourself up from leaning on top of the sink, tugging your dress back down quietly.

Of course. Of, fucking, course.

Mingyu can sense the annoyance even without you saying anything, lopsided smile on his features. “Later, okay? Don’t be a brat.”

“Whatever.”

You head for the door, unlocking it before you step out first and leave Mingyu behind. Your body still buzzes with the urge to cum when you start heading down the hallway, panties sticking to you like a second skin with Mingyu’s cum pooling into the material. You turn a corner into an empty part of the upstairs hallways, sighing slightly as you lean up against a wall.

You hear your name being called as you turn your head, finding Wonwoo jogging up to you.

“Hey! I was looking for you!” He smiles, noting the way you seem to sadly smile back at him. “Something the matter?”

“Ugh, it’s Mingyu…” You start. Wonwoo tenses up, hands balling into fists at his side. “What did he do?”

“He’s so fucking selfish! I don’t know what’s up with him lately but he always leaves me hanging!”

Oh.

It’s quiet between the two of you as your words sink in and Wonwoo’s demeanor changes in the blink of an eye. He takes a step closer to you, fingertips under your chin to lift your head up as he meets your blown out pupils.

“I wouldn’t leave you hanging, y’know.”

You feel a wave of arousal wash over you at his deep voice; did Wonwoo always sound like that or was it the alcohol? “W-what?”

“I said, I wouldn’t leave you hanging. I’d put you before myself, if you’d let me.” He smirks at you, eyes twinkling with promise.

“Show me then.”

Wonwoo drags you into the nearest bedroom; excitement coursing through his veins.

In another universe, he would’ve been more romantic about this.

Dinner and candles, picnics at sunset. Ah, well.

“Well, it’s not much but it’ll do.” He says, locking the door behind himself before he turns to you. He takes in your mildly disheveled appearance, walking you backwards until the back of your legs hit the bed.

“You deserve better, y’know? Someone who’ll take care of you.”

“I know… But you promised you’d show me, didn’t you?” Pouting, you hike your dress up before you sit down on the edge of the bed. You spread your legs as you let Wonwoo see your panties that were practically transparent.

“Fuck, you let him cum inside your tight ‘lil pussy and he didn’t even let you cum?”

“How do you know I’m tight if you never fucked me before.” You retort, shooting him a smirk of your own. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, but you felt more confident now than you’d been in a long while.

Wonwoo leans over you, easing you down until your back touches the sheets. “Only someone as pretty as you would have a tight ‘lil cunt and I’ll prove it.” He pulls away, undoing the button and zipper of his pants before he shimmies his boxer briefs down enough to pull his half hard cock out.

You lick your lips at the sight; he was slightly bigger than Mingyu. “Fuck, your cock is huge, Wonwoo…” He smirks at your compliment, tugging on your legs until your lower half hangs off of the side of the bed. He eases your wet panties down, pocketing them before he spreads your legs wide.

“I’m not typically one for sloppy seconds, but…” You blush at his comment. “...If it’s you, I don’t care.”

“Usually I wouldn’t have someone else’s cum already inside my fuckin’ pussy before I hook up with someone else...” You mumble.

Wonwoo guides his cock towards you, letting the shaft rest against your folds. He starts grinding against you, coating his cock in your wetness and Mingyu’s cum. His cock is already throbbing as he continues to tease you and himself, resisting the urge to fuck you hard and fast like he knew both of you needed. “S’okay, I’ll just have to cum inside you too and fuck it so deep into your fuckin’ cunt that you won’t even remember Mingyu ever did.” He grins.

“God, yes, make me cum too, I wanna cum with you…” Whining, you buck your hips up to meet his teasing touches.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make sure you get my cock nice ‘n wet.” He positions his cock at your entrance, teasing you one more time as you whine and squirm underneath him. “Fuck, you’re so cute when you’re whiny.”

He slowly eases his cock in, meeting no resistance with how wet you already were and the cum already inside you. “God, you really are fuckin’ tight…” Wonwoo mumbles under his breath.

It takes you a second to adjust to Wonwoo’s size before he’s drawing his hips back and thrusting back into you and a mewl cuts through the air when the head of his cock taps against your cervix; eyes fluttering shut with how well Wonwoo filled you up.

“Oh, god, ngh, Wonwoo I--I don’t know if I--I can hold o-off…” A choked cry rolls off of your lips, fingertips digging into the sheets underneath you as you cant your hips up to meet his thrusts. You’d already gotten close to an orgasm before and now that Wonwoo’s cock was snug between your walls and curving into you perfectly, it was hard to hold back.

“That’s okay, baby. You can cum as many times as you want. Use me how you want me.” He offers; voice gentle and inviting as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“P--please, ah, touch my---my clit…”

Wonwoo obliges, pinching and rolling your clit between his fingertips. “O-oh, fuck!”

Your body locks up, Wonwoo’s name spilling from your lips as he throws you over the edge and into the first mind-melting orgasm you’d had in weeks. He smiles dreamily at you, hips still snapping into you as he fucks you through your high.

“So fuckin’ pretty when you’re cumming.”

You can only whimper in response, blushing when you can hear how much wetter you’d gotten after just one orgasm. He takes his fingers off of you clit, licking the wet digits.

Wonwoo looks down to where the two of you are connected, a soft groan on his lips when he sees how much of your wetness coats his cock. “You really did get my cock fuckin’ soaked, baby. Think you still have it in you to give me one more? I’m close too and, ah, I’d love for you to cum with me.” He shoots you a sweet smile and you feel your heart beat out of your chest.

You nod feverishly, “Mm--Mmhmm… I---I haven’t c-cum in a few weeks so… I--”

“A few weeks?”

You avert your eyes from his inquisitive stare, already knowing how he’s going to react. “Yeah, s’just Mingyu’s been so busy so… He’s been, hah, kinda’ leaving me h-hanging and---Ah!” Wonwoo thrusts into you hard, grinding against you once he was fully bottomed out.

“For weeks now? He’s been treating you like that?” It’d made sense now why he’d seen you in Mingyu’s bed alone that one time. “Y-yeah… but---but he’s just busy, y’know, ah, being a TA and a-all...”

He shakes his head in utter disbelief; selfish Mingyu, as always.

Wonwoo leans in until he’s face to face with you, kissing you on the lips gently before pulling away. He doesn’t say another word and instead works on getting you worked up to cum with him and even through the muffled music, he can hear your loud whines and whimpers and the sound of skin slapping as his thrusts become erratic.

He licks the pad of his thumb before he brings it back towards your sensitive and swollen clit. “Baby, ‘m close…” He whispers; only loud enough for you to catch.

“Ngh, fuh--fuck, Wonwoo, please cum i-inside me… I wanna feel your, ah, cock throbbing i-inside of me when you fill me up with y-your cum…” Wonwoo’s thumb presses harder against your clit and he opts to grind against you instead when he feels the tension in his abdomen start to snap. He moans your name shakily, brows furrowed and eyes clamped shut as he lets the pleasure wash over him.

You lick your lips watching his face contort in bliss and you bring your fingers down and over his thumb as you press down harder onto your clit and the action is enough to throw you over the edge again, head thrown back and a sharp whine on your lips as you cum for the second time.

Wonwoo slows down his thrusts as he starts to come down from his high and he works you through yours. “Shit, you really are so fuckin’ pretty.”

A blush coats your skin as your orgasm starts to ebb away and Wonwoo is careful to not hurt you once he starts to pull his cock from inside of you.

He watches the cum drip out of you, lips pursed into a tight smile. “Guess you should get these back, huh?” He fishes for the wet panties in his pocket; helping you slide them back on and up your legs before he pulls away and starts to smooth down his own disheveled appearance.

You laugh breathily, “I’ll let you have another pair next time.”

“Oh? There’ll be a next time?” He grins.

Biting your lip, you stand, readjusting your dress and grimacing at how gross you felt now that your panties were even wetter and covered in more cum.

“I---I mean, I still... I still have feelings for Mingyu but--but...” You pause; Wonwoo’s eyes on you. “I know I should end things with him, it’s just gonna take some time and I--I think you’re a really great guy, Wonwoo, and I’d like for there to be a next time... It’s just... I think I need some time to get over Mingyu first.” You mumble the last few words, a little embarrassed you even admitted you liked Mingyu.

“No, I---I get it. It’s no worries! Just---Just come find me when you’re ready.” He shoots you a beaming smile, “I’ll leave first, okay?”

You nod in response, smiling at his back when he turns to leave.

“Thank you, Wonwoo.”

You end up heading home, leaving Mingyu at Jeonghan’s party all-together.

He’d find his way home eventually; maybe even puke in the backseat of a taxi and get what he deserved.

You giggle at the thought, stepping into the lobby of your apartment building.

Huh, the lights are out.

You’re a little confused, but you make your way towards the elevators; stumbling slightly with the alcohol still in your system. Pressing the button, you wait patiently in the dark lobby -- only the moonlight providing a soft glow.

The elevator dings and you quickly enter it, pressing the button for your floor before resting against the banister.

Hey, is that a person?

Your eyes catch a glimpse of a figure not too far off and only half visible from around the corner, brows furrowed.

But you didn’t hear anyone enter the building.

The door closes and you shake the thoughts out of your head; it was probably just the alcohol making your eyes hazy.

Eventually you reach your floor, sighing in relief that the lights were still working. You stumble down the hall, dropping your house keys a few times before you can even make the turn to get to your hallway.

You reach your door, sliding the key into the keyhole and turning the lock.

God, it was so good to finally be home.

“Good Evening, this is Boo Seungkwan reporting live on Channel 17’s 4 o’ clock news. We’re live at the scene here, as you can see behind me, at the apartment complex were Mr. Kim Mingyu resided. The police and detectives are still going through Mr. Kim’s apartment in hopes of finding any clues. His whereabouts are still unknown as well as his female companion. If you have any tips or information of where they both are, please do not hesitate to contact the police or the TV station.” Seungkwan pauses, waving down a pedestrian. “Sir? I’m a reporter for Channel 17 news, can we please have a word with you? It’s about the missing university students.”

Wonwoo sadly smiles, nodding. “Of course.”

Seungkwan gestures for the cameraman to come closer, holding the microphone in between himself and Wonwoo. “Sir, did you happen to know the missing couple?”

“Ah… Kind of. They were attending the same university as myself. He was kind of a friend of mine, and I know he lived in the building across from myself but…” Wonwoo pauses, shaking his head. “I--I don’t know what happened. They seemed like such kind people. I’ve heard rumours that they just fled to another city, but… that’s it really.”

“Did they tell you that, themselves?” Wonwoo shakes his head no. “No, just rumours flying around campus. Everyone saw them at a party last weekend, myself included. That seems to have been the last time.”

“I see, so have the police interviewed you? Do they have any suspects?”

Wonwoo shakes his head again, smiling sadly. “The police just think they ran away, which, I guess isn’t too far fetched. We’re all stressed university students, after all.”

“You mentioned he’s a friend of yours. He didn’t bother to say anything? Do you think he kidnapped her?”

Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek, worry clear on his features. “I mean, Mingyu was kind of aloof and he was very drunk at that party. I’m not sure if they got into an altercation. We never really hung out outside of campus so sadly, I can’t really say I know if it’d be in his character or not.”

“Thank you sir, for your time.”

Seungkwan lets Wonwoo leave, stepping away to finish the live report.

Wonwoo nods, turning to make his way back into his apartment.

He enters his place, toeing off his shoes before he heads towards his own bedroom.

By nature, he steps in front of his window; the same one that faced Mingyu’s now empty bedroom.

His lips ease into a small peaceful smile.

He would have to make a trip to the east end once all the news vans and patrol cars were gone.

He was sure you’d love the food he’d be making for your candle-lit dinner. It was one of his favorite recipes.

And he was sure Mingyu wouldn’t mind watching from his place in the corner, either.

#yandere!wonwoo #yandere!svt #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #yandere!seventeen #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #monstermash!svt

622 notes · View notes

mctherofdragons · 4 years

Text

Little Black Book | D. M.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Genre: FLUFF!

Request: “could you write a draco x slytherin!reader where they both have a crush on eachother, but they think the other person is into someone else? like draco with pansy or reader with some other character” from the lovely @minty-malfoy <3

Trigger Warnings: Cussing

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

Draco Malfoy furrowed his brow at the cauldron in front of him. He added the last ingredient and watched jubilantly as the ivory smoke spiraled upward. You watched as he leaned forward, taking a small whiff of the potion. He gasped quickly, his cheeks beginning turning a ruddish red. You looked over at him and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

He hastily placed the lid onto the Amortentia potion with a loud clang. You sighed, feeling a little twinge in your heart. It no doubt smelled like Pansy Parkinson. “Perfect, pretty, put-together Pansy Parkinson,” you thought to yourself. You knew that the reason Draco was flushed was because the familiar scent of broomsticks, cinnamon gum, and cherry lipgloss had invaded his senses. You secretly desired that he had smelled you instead - lavender shampoo, mint, and a touch of morning coffee.

“Does it smell like Potter?,” you jested. Draco glared at you before cracking a smile.

“Careful, y/l/n.”

You gave him a toothy grin, going back to flipping through your textbook. “What does yours smell like?,” he asked curiously, secretly hoping it smelled like apples, hair product, and vanilla. You leaned over the cauldron, gently taking off the cover. You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes. It felt as though you were bathing in the scent of the boy next to you and you drew back.

“Well?,” Draco asked curiously. You swallowed hard, trying to figure out the best lie to tell in the moment.

“Oh, um, I...it smells like honey...and...grass,” you blurted, turning back around to stare at your book.

Draco felt his heart sink, peaking up at you behind his lashes. You were busy distracting yourself with packing up your bag as he watched you longingly.

“Of course she didn’t smell you, you bloody idiot,” he thought to himself defeatedly, thankful for your professor calling an end to the class.

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

That evening, you sat curled up on a green velvet chair in the Sytherin common room. It was always a lucky occasion when the common room was empty. It allowed for time to relax with nothing but the sound of the crackling fire to keep you company. You sipped a cup of peppermint tea and absentmindedly flipped through a copy of Witch Weekly. A yawn washed over you, which allowed you to stretch a bit and settle down more comfortably in your chair. You looked up from the article you were reading about a Beauxbatons’ pastry recipe when you heard the door creak open, disturbing the silence.

Draco and Pansy came stumbling into the common room, chuckling about something Draco must have said in the hallway. Pansy giggled, playfully placing a hand on Draco’s chest. You felt as if you were watching the interaction in slow motion, silently longing to be in Pansy’s place. Her blithesome smile made your eyes fill with jealous tears, although you were too prideful to allow them to spill over.

You quickly gathered up your things, polishing off the rest of your tea. You shuffled past the two, ignoring the way Draco’s head turned on a swivel when you brushed his shoulder. Heading out into the hallway, you rushed as quickly as you could back to your dormitory. “Why am I crying over Draco Malfoy?,” you cursed to yourself, feeling relief once the door slammed behind you. You sniffled a bit before wiping your eyes in annoyance. “He’s just a boy. A stupid boy at that.”

Knowing it would make you feel better, you climbed up onto your bed and pulled out your diary. Your method of getting out your frustration was often through writing letters - of course, letters you’d never dream of sending. You had written angry letters to your professors and even inspirational letters to yourself, all of which you burned immediately in the common room fireplace. You flipped to an empty page and grabbed the quill next to you. The words flowed easily now as you let a few tears drip onto the paper. Your sentences had no real beginning or end, nor did your care about making a whole lot of sense.

‘Dear Draco,

I wish I could tell you what you mean to me....that you’re charming, and handsome, and perfect in every way. I want to tell you that I am captivated by your smile, your eyes, and every last inch of you. My potion smelled like you...Did yours smell like Pansy? I’m sure it did. If I had the chance, I’d kiss you right in front of everyone. I know it’s stupid but I really do fancy you, Malfoy. I just wish you’d fancy me back.’

It was written in the same way your thoughts of Draco often graced across your mind - jumbled and disjointed. You closed the tiny black book and placed it into your backpack, reaching over the shut off your bedside light. You snuggled deeper under your soft, wool blankets, secretly thinking of the Slytherin prince as you drifted off to sleep.

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Draco Malfoy sat at his dormitory desk, sipping slowly on a cup of tea. The sweet drink warmed his insides. He was grateful for this as he was often coldest at night. He pulled the blanket over his shoulders and continued to write, sighing as he felt all of his pent up emotions ease. He wouldn’t admit it aloud to any of his friends, but he kept a diary. It had always served as a way for him to process the difficult parts of his day, protecting him from having to share too much with other people.

Tonight, he wrote unabashedly about how he felt for you. He wrote about your hair, your eyes, and the way his Amortentia carried your scent. He gushed about dreaming of kissing you for hours and hours, leaving very little to the imagination. After seeing you rush out of the common room, he felt an unwavering sense of dread, thinking perhaps you couldn’t even stand to be around him. Thus, he put down in black and white all of the sickeningly sweet ways he thought of you. It occurred to him that maybe if he spilled his heart out on to the parchment, he could stop being so damned enamored with you.

His eyelids started to become heavy, so he slid the small, raven-colored book into his knapsack. Turning off his lamp, he slid beneath his covers, allowing himself to drift into slumber.

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

Final exams were fast approaching and the entirety of Hogwarts was in a tizzy. Between Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies, there was far too much information to digest and far too little time to do it. You and several others from your house shared a long table in the library, your papers and manuals spread out in front of you. Reading furiously, you had lost track of the time, along with Draco, Pansy, and Blaise.

“Oh bloody hell, we’re going to be late for DADA,” Pansy cussed. She stood up to quickly shove her books into her bag. The remaining three of you jumped up, jostling your belongings into your bags as quickly as possible - which is why neither you nor Draco noticed when two tiny black books got swapped.

You all jogged off down the hallway, your robes flowing behind you as you desperately hoped to not be late to class. Unfortunately, you didn’t make it in time, rushing in through the door just as Snape had begun to speak.

“Nice of you to join us, albeit late. 10 points from Slytherin, each.”

You sulked as you slid into your seat, pulling your parchment and quill out to begin taking notes.

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Later that afternoon, you found yourself sitting on your bed. You had finally finished reviewing for your classes and figured a much needed break was in order. You got up and padded over to your tea kettle, flicking the water on. Just then, you heard a tiny knock at your door.

Unsure who would be coming to visit you, you walked over and stood on the other side. “Who is it?,” you beckoned, not wanting to open the door for just anyone.

“Malfoy,” the voice on the other end replied. Your stomach did an immediate flip. You opened the door, coming face-to-face with a red faced and anxious looking blonde on the other side. He held up something in his hand and you felt like the floor had just given out under your feet.

“Is this yours?,” He asked sheepishly, extending a hand to give it back. You snatched it quickly. The sound of your heart pounding echoed in your ears. A feeling of dread washed over you and you couldn’t stop your hands from beginning to shake.

“Did you r-read it?,” you choked out. You sent a prayer up to Merlin that the answer would be no.

“Yes.”

You let out a tiny gasp and your lips began to tremble.

“Hey, hey,” Draco whispered, allowing himself to walk in the door. He closed it behind him, reaching out to take your hands. “Don’t be upset. Believe me, it’s alright, y\n,”

You pulled away, turning around in embarrassment. “I’m n-not upset! I’m fucking humiliated,” you sniveled. Draco knew about how much you liked - no, at this point he probably assumed loved - him. He had read the inner workings of your heart. Every thing you had penned about the boy was now knowledge he possessed. You wished you could just dissolve into the floor and disappear forever.

Draco sighed, walking over to your backpack. He reached in and pulled out a different journal. You had no idea that his book had been in your bag the entire time, given that you thought it was yours. He sauntered back over to you, pulling you by the hand to sit down on the bed.

You looked at him confused as he opened the journal. He handed it over to you, allowing you to peruse it. You began to read, your jaw falling slack. “Y-you...is this about Pansy?,” you asked sadly, unable to accept that Draco’s feelings might be mutual. Draco’s cyanic eyes twinkled. He took the diary from your hands, placing it out of the way.

He moved a piece of hair from your eyes, tracing his finger along your jaw. Then, he took a finger and traced it down the bridge of your nose and over your lips. He began to speak, repeating a line from one of his diary entries, “Everything about you is flawless.”

He leaned in slowly, planting a kiss to your lips. In that moment, it wouldn’t have shocked you if fireworks began to burst across the ceiling of your room. You scooted closer, gently placing a hand on the back of Draco’s neck. Your fingers played in the tufts of his platinum blonde hair. You pulled him back in for another kiss. Suddenly, you were very, very grateful for finals week - and those 40 missing points from Slytherin mattered not.

#draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco x you #draco x reader #malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #dracotok #draco fanfiction #draco x slytherin!reader #draco x female reader

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clearwillow · 3 years

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#39

Hi nonnie! I didn't want you to think that I'd forgotten about this prompt - I've just been really busy wrapping up my InuKag art and writing among other projects. I hope this canon-divergent moment after the Fateful Night in Togenkyo makes up for the wait!

39. “Why are you scared of loving?” (From the Fluff prompts list)

Inuyasha should have known that when Kagome yelled “Shut up and sit” that it had been more of a reflex than her actually being angry with him. Didn’t mean he liked hitting the rocky ground though. But… he couldn’t get mad at her for this one. He’d scared her with his stunt, even if it was saving her life.

He hadn’t been expecting her to still be crying even as she started to pry him up off the ground.

“You can be such a jerk sometimes,” she sniffled. “I thought you were dead, Inuyasha.”

“Ain’t I said before that my body can take more than a human’s?”

“That doesn’t mean throw yourself off a cliff!”

A throat clearing interjected, cutting the hanyou off from retorting. Both turned to see Miroku and Shippo watching from a safer distance. “Now that things are – more or less – back to normal, we should really be going. Sango will be waiting for us at her village, and I believe that the sooner we get away from this place, the better.” Without waiting for a response, they turned and left the squabbling pair.

But just because their friends left didn’t mean the argument ended.

“You were human, Inuyasha! You could have died!”

Kagome made to stomp her foot, as if that would somehow get her point across better, when she stepped down hard on a rock that jutted out at a bad angle. In seconds Inuyasha was kneeling in front of her, lifting her foot up to check for damage, and on reflex, Kagome had braced her hands on his shoulders. Then she remembered she wasn’t wearing panties and let out a shrill noise.

“What’s your problem?” he asked, ears pinned back. “I was trying to make sure your foot was okay!”

“I’m naked!” she hissed. “I don’t have anything on under your fire rat, remember!”

Yes he remembered.

Yes he was trying to block out the image of her standing in that sake bath.

Yes he was trying to block out that her naked form was covering his robe in her scent.

No he was failing on all accounts.

And she just had to make all of those thoughts converge front and center.

It took a few attempts to get his brain to think of words that didn’t involve him coming off sounding like a pervert, but he managed to determine that her foot was unharmed before saying that he knew where her clothes were. Or, he thought he did. The structure was a labyrinth essentially in design.

He hadn’t located Kagome right off. He’d thrown himself into four other rooms before he found her and….shit don’t think of that.

So when he kept getting turned around, he wasn’t the least bit surprised. It was hard to track her scent amid the mildew, the sake, and everything else. The woman next to him, with her scent hovering under his nose, wasn’t helping either. And she was still going on about how reckless he had been!

“Do you have any idea how scared I was? How worried we all were? Inuyasha, sometimes you act like we aren’t even there and –”

“And what?” He stopped suddenly, whirling on her.

Kagome hadn’t been expecting the sudden stop and would’ve walked into his chest if he hadn’t gripped her by the shoulders. “I…it…scares me that you don’t think much of us, is all,” she mumbled. “We’re your friends, and you don’t seem to care about that.”

“Feh. Shows what you know.” She really believed that he’d toss himself over a cliff on his human night if he didn’t give a damn about her or the rest of them? If he was suicidal he’d have done taken care of that longago, and wouldn’t have waited for his human night to do it either. He was a fighter through and through; if growing up in the world alone hadn’t broken him, he wasn’t about to take his own life without good reason. To him, Kagome was a good reason.

She didn’t seem to get that though. No, she was missing the point.

“Why are you scared of loving?” she blurted out. She hadn’t meant for it to come out that way, but…the point still stood! May as well dig that hole deeper. “And ‘shows what I know’? Really, Inuyasha. You can’t just dismiss your friends like that! You really can be such a jerk sometimes, you –!”

The strong hands on her shoulders pulled her forward without warning, and she felt his lips crash against hers, cutting off her attempts at a rant. Inuyasha tried not to let the kiss go beyond that, but her scent was flooding his senses. The way she gripped his kosode as she returned the kiss, how she pressed against him as she stood on her toes… if he didn’t stop he’d be in trouble.

Fuck he already was.

When he pulled away, the sight of Kagome’s parted lips and dazed expression made him want to kiss her again. Both a good and bad idea. He settled for keeping his arms around her, pulled against him. They were alone. He could get away with that.

“Who said I was scared?” he whispered, looking into her eyes. “Just because I can’t say some things directly doesn’t mean I don’t feel them, Kagome. I find other ways of showing what I can’t say.”

He knew it finally clicked when her expression changed. Her eyes widened in surprise, a faint blush rose up in her cheeks, and her scent…okay not focusing on that other than it was a good reaction. She was too close to really think on how good of a reaction it was, cause he didn’t want to scare her. But then, she’d kissed him back so maybe it wouldn’t…

Too. Early.

Kagome’s hands let go of the kosode and slipped around his middle, pulling herself closer. “I understand, Inuyasha,” she replied. “Sorry I yelled at you.”

“You didn’t know.” The feel of her laying her head on his chest was nice, even if he was certain she could feel how fast his heart was pounding. She really hadn’t realized, and he’d bit back at her accusations in the same manner. No, he couldn’t say outright that he cared about her, or that he loved her even the smallest amount, but he could show her. He could show it when he hunted food, found good places to camp, sought out the good hotsprings. He could show it when he threw himself in front of her in a fight, or when he stood up for her honor. He showed it when he gave her his fire rat to cover herself with. “Come on,” he coaxed, turning them toward the stairs. “I think we’re close to where your clothes are.”

Both kept an arm around the other as they walked. It was slow and could’ve been faster if they hadn’t, but it was their time. They knew they wouldn’t get another chance at being alone for a while once they met up with Miroku and Shippo again.

“Something confuses me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You said that Tokajin had thrown my uniform into a pile on the floor in the room that held you with the vines. When you got loose, why didn’t you grab them?”

Shit. Why hadn’t he?

“I…uh…” Dammit he was blushing. “It’s not what you think, Kagome!”

Her laughter echoing around them on the stairwell should’ve annoyed him. It made his embarrassment lessen, because she knew he hadn’t been thinking. He’d been so scared at the thought of her having been killed that all he could think of was getting to her. He needed to know that Tokajin’s words were lies. So he’d forgotten about the discarded clothes in the heat of the moment. Hadn’t thought to consider that she’d be naked until he barreled through the cellar door and seen her standing there.

She had been a vision though.

Inuyasha let Kagome laugh, but he couldn’t tell her that aside from just forgetting, he didn’t know if he could bring himself to pick up her panties. There were just some things he didn’t feel like he had a right to touch, and that was one of them.

For now.

#I'm sorry I don't have art for it #but I would like to do some sometime #Kagome in the fire rat is always fun to draw so it's doubly tempting

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