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1-49 · 6 months

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성찬 : Feeling every bit of this neon midnight that has filled my veins.

ᴘᴀʀɪɴɢ: jung sungchan × f!reader

❝ In which you catch the interest of a handsome stranger at the party, and he embarks on a night-long odyssey in order to validate this* awkward attraction, he strongly believes you both feel.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: romance, some fluff, suggestive; strangers to ? slowburn one-night stand kinda?

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 13k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: +18 i drag a lot in this sry. tiny bit of pinning; real tense and awkward energy; flirting; mixed signals; sungchan is messy; in a sense, he’s both confident yet appears doubtful and insecure at times. stolen kiss ups implied hot moments/dialogue lines. few magic scenes

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: no joke im obsessed with sungchan. this has also progressively made me grow more in love with him he’s so effortlessly lovley & funny, my introvert ass could never! the energy? the personality?? like, no broo stop! i envy him sm. his way with words too...

also any feedback, reblog, or support of any kind will be appreciated. tysm, and enjoy!

A fine night, or so you thought, a showcase of stars in the sky. And while you are admiring the display of lights, in the middle of your peace, you hear the echo of an intruder ──── the sound of someone demanding to get in.

Who would be so brave? Who is willing to leave a party in order to get to you?

U let it pull u closer to the stars, this stranger’s energy that shifts the gears in your head. A stubborn being! Can’t he have a bit of patience? What could possibly be so urgent? What could he possibly be looking to discuss? As far as you know, the rave is inside, not outside.

[22:22] You wish you could describe the magnetic pull you felt just moments ago.

[20:20] In keeping with the occasion, you took great care to make sure you felt and looked your best for your friend’s celebration. You chose a black outfit in accordance with the principle of seeking style through simple tones. Simple wide pants, a velvety sleeveless top, an open back, and some crystals hanging from your ears are enough elegancy to captivate someone. A desire for someone else’s eyes.

[22:23] Moreover, you are trying to make sense of the situation once you get to the balcony, relieved that no one is there to disturb your peace.

Sungchan’s intention, however, was never to make you uncomfortable.

[21:45] On the other end of the room, he had already skimmed everything and everyone, not because he was that type of character, but because he was bored and new to the scene, and his inner extrovert was urging him to go find someone to befriend as soon as possible.

The options were plentiful at the scene, and the liquor in his hand resolved through his system a little faster, making him less rational in his decision. That is how your presence from the other side of the room alone helped him—some mysterious, indescribable force drawing him in.

You…

Sungchan could not figure out why his gaze kept circling the room, passing from one person to the next but always returning to you. He rapidly became solely focused on you. The way you discuss something so profound with your friend makes him think it must be something so interesting and intriguing; the way it has you so invested in the matter undeniably gets him a little curious, secretly wishing to be in the same position your friend enjoys you. Simply put, the indulgence that you are in causes him to become greedy.

The way you smile now and then, the way your teeth graze your perfectly glazed lips, the way your earrings sway—there is just something about you that never ceases to attract his attention.

As a result, he does something about it.

You…

You notice his heated stare at you from afar and across the room—hell-bent, dense, and begging for you.

Sungchan does not immediately offer you a smile, nor does he try to be flirtatious in his gaze, but he absorbs you with such passion, concentration, and keenness that it honestly begins to make you feel super uneasy. You are having trouble reading him.

Thus, as you start to pay more and more attention to him, things start to gradually work in his favor. This also begins to fill you with an odd sense of thrill, and before you know it, you are champing at the bit.

That tummy twirl as the eye-string between you works like a live-wire. Sungchan, lazily propped against the wall, significantly taller than anyone, and with such a pretty yet tempting set of eyes, and with the intimacy you share with him, easily begins to excite and scare you at the same time.

He possesses a spark that straddles the line between danger and enchantment. And sometimes you try to casually shift your eyesight and abandon the site, but the response you get when you return your gaze, which you always do, is that of a wounded animal.

Such a ‘casual’ face that molds into a hot one, then softens and becomes dear in a matter of minutes that whatever you two exchange quickly involuntary culminates in your breaking. Seeing him with his brows tied and slightly pouting, needy and greedy as to why you would try to wonder and abandon him even for a little, is a sight that makes your tummy clench at nothing.

You wish you were strong enough to respond to his request, whatever it is—like holding his stare until your confidence crumbles and he subdues you, or holding his stare until he is truly bored of you and can move on to the next victim.

And, because you are unprepared for any of this and are getting gagged by the space that is gradually getting more packed, you decide to dip the party in order to get some fresh air flowing through your brain.

[22:22] You are leaning over the metal rail, trying to inhale all of the lost air from earlier, and for a brief moment, you feel yourself again, relieved that you are still holding on to that sliver of confidence you promised yourself before this event even began. But the way this complete stranger was erecting himself around you had almost brought everything you had sworn to a halt.

You consider the view from the balcony to be ‘perfectly splended.’ Neon lights make love and oppose the monotonous yet sparkling dark blue sky above you on a very cold December night.

You shiver as you realize you are skin-naked against the harshness of the cold air. It is icy cold, but you are trying to ignore it for the time being. To your advantage, you try to enjoy the solitude of being alone; the tranquility of falling snow is far more appealing than the warmth of the place inside.

True, the bitter cold could not scold you out of there, so someone else had to. You are irritated when you hear the glass door slide, but you do not turn back because you know this one, whoever it is, is coming for your peace.

A pair of hands approaches the rail, and in you sight of vision you notice the grip is somewhat firm, but you do not attempt to acknowledge this person’s presence. Not because you are cruel or ignorant, but because you simply do not feel like it right now. Someone disturbed your peace while you were seeking refuge; it is understandable to be agitated.

“Are you not freezing here?”

The ferocity with which this intruder delivers his words reveals that it is not only his hands that are strong but also his sweet, ’somewhat’ deep voice. It is enigmatic that you are not allowing yourself to be more selfish toward him; he craves your attention, and you provide it.

“I do not mind,” you say as you turn to face him and realize it is him.

“Obviously, your skin tells a different story,” he observes.

And who gave his eyes the go-ahead to roam your flesh? He is still an issue, and you can feel his gaze on you even as you try to fix yours on the scene in front of you.

Sungchan, on the other hand, is a little more confident, and from what he can tell, he still has an impact on you. Apart from the irregular breathing and chest rise, his only doubt is whether the way your skin is covered in goosebumps is due to him or the cold weather.

“I just needed a breath of fresh air. I am doing fine.”

“As you say,” he tries to give you the space you seek by shifting his gaze away from you. “Does not the cold bother you at all?”

“I suppose not. It is something I am used to.”

After a few minutes, you bring yourself to ask, breaking the little silence you two have built. Your feeble attempt at small talk, and, of course, regarding the host of the party because you can not think of anything interesting to say right now, it is as if he is taken over your mind and dumbed you down in the process.

“Are you related to Eunseok?”

“Oh,” he says, giving you his first smile, which is as bright as the light reflected off the lake’s surface and warmer and sweeter than a freshly baked apple pie. “Why? Do we look alike?” Honestly, a warm smile that could make the sun feel cold, and it is spilling out of the corners of his deep brown eyes.

Is there a length of time at which his smile should stop being your favorite sight?

Certainly, no, but—

“Oh, no, no,” you say, backtracking in your head to see if your question was stupid. Finally, you admit, “I am just trying to make small talk.”

“I am aware of that,” he smirks triumphantly, as if he has finally won you over, because being under someone’s influence causes one to doubt and second-guess their statements, and you are doing just that, which he finds absolutely adorable.

You clearly sulk at his victory. “So?”

As a result, his smile broadens even more.

“Eunseok? Eunseok is a friend. A very close one.”

“Ah, I see,” you exhale a sigh of relief. It is even stupid, strange, and awkward that you feel this way, but you do.

“And you? Who is Eunseok to you?”

“May I say, a friend from work? We volunteer together.”

“Mhm,” he hums softly. “Strange, he has never mentioned you.”

“How can you be so certain that he hasn’t when you don’t even know what my name is?” You retort.

You are met with silence. A complete one.

Perhaps he disliked the tone of your voice and the way you responded.

You are not sure what to make of the situation because seconds are turning into minutes and he has not said or asked anything else besides what you asked. You are worried and perplexed as to why you are still glued to being here when you could simply return inside and enter the warmth of the apartment, but you do not.

Why? What is it that keeps you here? Why are you staying out here in the cold with him?

Sungchan immediately abandons his pursuit of observing the city, the moon, and the thousand snowflakes falling from the sky when you finally turn your entire body his way. He is not interested in them anymore, if he ever was.

You unintentionally and unconsciously bring your hands together to hug yourself, not to express to him how cold you are but as a reaction to being out in the cold for too long and forgetting your coat inside.

Your earrings flutter in the breeze, teasingly brushing against your neck and shoulders as if they were windchimes, and you are the music for him.

The wind also tangles your hair as it blows through it. Messy in the sense that your ends sometimes stick to your lipgloss and you try to ignore it. Most of his attention, however, is drawn to your delecate collar bones. And you are not wearing a bra underneath that velvet piece of whatever it is you are wearing. So the hug and squeezing on your chest only highlight your prominently hardened, sensitive spots for him.

And whether all of this divine show you are putting on is for him or not, or if it is all unintentional, Sungchan will have to figure it out on his own.

Sure, for the time being, everything is so unintentional, and he is aware of it. Sungchan understands that the cold has a big influence on how you look right now—the allure of it all—but deep down, he still believes that he, to some extent, causes it, that the cold creeps and shivers that linger on your body are brought on by him, and that it is not just the cold night.

And when he sees you like this—the neon lights reflecting off of you, the countless soft flakes landing on your face, some nestling and making a home in your hair, the way your eyes invite, and the little stars beneath them—he realizes how much he has grown dependent on you in such a short period of time.

While the neon dyes around you, he is hooked on your messy appearance. Blurred illumination and twinkling stars in the distance, but you are the star, beaming with lust in a riot of colors, or so he believes.

“Here,” he says, undressing his overdyed denim jacket in the hopes of trapping you within it—within him.

He does not even give you a chance to object. So, “thank you,” you say softly, despite the fact that you are anything but calm at the moment. His warm hands have brushed up against your arms during the process, which is a legitimate reason for your emotions to become agitated. “I did not bring mine,” you add to be more convincing. “I did not think I would be out this long.”

Sungchan grins from behind you, enjoying the intimacy the action has brought. “It is okay,” he says, brushing down the length of your now-covered arms.

His voice, words, breath, and scent rush from your hair to your ears at the same time. They are far too intimidating, but he is so smooth that it is contradictory, forcing you to disintegrate slowly.

You are trying your hardest not to melt in his arms, but it is a difficult task. You close your eyes for a moment, cursing the thoughts that keep popping into your silly little brain, but this has been such a small gesture—a nice gesture by someone to cover someone. This is perfectly normal. This is not unusual. People frequently go out of their way to cover others who are cold. So everything is okay. This is completely fine. ‘It is fine,’ you tell yourself.

He lines up next to you once you have been wrapped in his scent.

“What is so funny?” you inquire, noticing traces of satisfaction on his face. The majority of them are smug, but it is the bite of his lips to suppress the smile and its reflection in his sweet eyes that perplexes you. He is soooo

“Nothing,” he flirts casually. His eyelid and nose bridge home these tiny, exquisite specks that wink at you, adding to his soft, angelic physiognomy. And this much is true: they are invisible to false gods, but when it comes to you, nobody is more capable of holding onto you than those moles.

“Hmph,” you murmur, cocking your brow. “All right,” you say, only increasing the smile between his bitten lips. Like this, Sungchan is quickly becoming someone who is difficult to be normal about—someone to yearn for.

Mid-eye-flirt, your eyes drop involuntarily, whether due to insecurity or not, but they do. They are on their way to examine his white cotton tee shirt, his broad chest and even longer shoulders, his venied and shivered ivory arms. His neckline too is begging for lips.

You consider his height and how your head would not even reach his shoulders if you were not wearing heels. Perhaps your high will be at his heart level, making it ideal for your ear to check on his heart palpitations. You have gotten so far in your delusion that you are wondering what it is like to kiss someone so tall.

“Sungchan,” he offers playfully, aware that he is destroying a fantasy you are creating in your head.

“Uh,” you remark. Is he reintroducing you to reality? You are extremely embarrassing. You clear your throat and respond with your name.

He begins to softly nod his head, his lips curving once more. The neon is intensifying him in the same way. He looks almost flamboyant against the soft, snowy backdrop that stretches far away.

And, should that be the case, does this signify that your two are now officially flirting?

Considering that the way he looks at you clearly has you sucked in. He wants to arouse your highs and make you fantasize about him even more. And, even if you think this is just another ‘barely even a’ fling, he is powerful and genuine, as well as strangely familiar and gently captivating.

The rest of the background fades away. You cannot feel the air or the ground beneath you; all you can feel is his gaze. Everything dissolves and energizes the ecstatic present, and your constantly rambling mind becomes thoughtless.

By the time he breaks the intimate, soul-crushing silence again, you know you are captivated by him and you no longer want this to be a fling. This is the first time you have failed at flirting. And you know you cannot be bailed out of what is to come. In fact, 8.2 seconds of eye contact is required for love at first sight to happen.

“Why are you here?” He asks casually, as if the minutes leading up to this point had not been too private. “Outside by yourself, I mean? You do not like it inside?”

Now that his jacket is covering you, he has more room to investigate you, which feels like a fair trade for information. Of course, you did not ask for his jacket, and it was he who rushed with it, which is, to say the least, compromising, but here you are.

“I do not know. Not really. All I needed was some fresh air. It became too suffocating in there all at once, so I had to flee.” Given that he was the reason you left the crowded room, your smile appears phony. “It has also been a long time since I had a night out. So many people and everything... Strangely, I like it here even better. Regardless of the cold.”

“Regardless of the cold?” He teases.

“Regardless of the cold,” you say firmly.

“Mhm. I see what you mean. I can say the same thing.”

“But it is you who is freezing in the cold right now,” you say, concerned.

“It doesn’t bother me.”

If only you knew that the cold does not reach him. Being here alone with you is almost everything he does not want to lose.

Unfortunately, such a situation can only last so long. The cold, like the undefined chamisty, will eventually find its way into someone’s bones. You two are complete strangers, neither here nor there, and the atmosphere quickly becomes tense once more. It is borderline hot, cold and awkward. You are both at a loss for what to do next.

And, despite the fact that Sungchan is overjoyed to have you here, spending your precious time on him out of anyone else you could possibly be with, which undoubtedly must mean something, he is aware that he wants more of you, but how does he get there?

Perhaps someone joining you two on the balcony for a smoke can help alleviate the awkwardness that has developed between you two? However, when two more men join you to smoke on the balcony, his only concern becomes protecting you.

For whatever ‘self’ reason, he does not want you to share this space with them. Behaving in a selfish manner, he offers, “Come on, let us go inside. It’s too cold.” Because of the high likelihood that you two will part ways again, even he does not understand his thought process, but his mouth and a strong desire not to share you with anyone may be faster than his brain.

You, on the other hand, naturally accept. As if you could choose. He was the one who offered you the warmth of his jacket, and he is the one who is now freezing in his tee for you. That makes you feel guilty, but not really because his jacket carried the scent that clouded your senses. You admit that whatever you had going on was nice while it lasted.

And you do not let go of his jacket until you are both inside and you are ready to give it back to him. Again, it is not like you want to let go of it. You really do not want to, but you must.

“Thank you for not letting me freeze out there,” you say softly, handing him the overdyed piece of clothing, the dying ember in your eyes almost to the point of yearning. Half hoping he cathes upon it, half believing it is best if he doesn’t. A conflict with yourself.

“You don’t have to thank me. I am glad I could assist.” And as he gently picks it up, he becomes hesitant, as if he does not want to because he will have nothing to bargain with you for.

Sungchan feels like he has already lost you to the mass of people around him, and he feels like he is coming down to being nobody to you again. So he drags on this moment, picking up his jacket, stretching the second as much as he can, and making sure his hands have brushed and touched you irrevocably.

Time passes and the tension dissipates.

[23:13] After an hour, you are still trying to keep up with your few coworkers, who appear to be planning to call it a night and leave. You do not have much of a choice but are thinking about following their decision because Sungchan has not made any further moves towards you.

Simultaneously, this is the point at which you wish things had gone differently, and you consider many different outcomes if the dice had been rolled differently.

What if Sungchan made his move twice—once when he discovered you in the entire room and was determined to have you, and again when he got close to you on the balcony—and this time he was waiting FOR YOU to prove your true intentions and finally admit you are interested in him?

Uh, just when you thought you were going to get away from him, you find yourself wishing for more of him.

However, after witnessing you and your friends bid farewell to Eunseok, Sungchan realizes that it is now or never: lose you or have you.

He dislikes trusting time and does not want to leave you in the future. To play the ‘if’ game. He wants you now, right now, in the present, and he will be damned if he does not tell you. As a result, he rushes to say his goodbyes, leaving you both on the same elevator.

[23:20] There is him, you, and three of your friends in the elevator, and while your friends are in the front and you are in the back, he makes sure to horn his way in to you. Fortunately for you, your friends are unaware of him and will not tease you, as no one has noticed your short romance tonight except the two strangers on the balcony. And they are also so lost in their heated debate, resulting in nothing but noise to fill the cramped four-wall space.

Even though the ride down is brief, you find yourself wishing it were longer because you cannot quite figure out Sungchan’s motifs. He is difficult to understand, in contrast to how he was at the start of the night when your gazes met across the room, when his intentions were banging on your heart’s door, eager to get in. You are not sure if the mystery he is leaving you is drawing you closer to him or making you more distant. You realize you do not want to lose him, and you tell yourself that there must be a reason he got in the same elevator with you, even if he does not say anything.

Sungchan’s fingers brush against yours at that precise moment, and he begins subtly playing, then slowly intertwining them with his, never compliantly taking your hand in his. The forbidden pleasure of the action takes the edge off—just him doing this, teasing you in front of your friends, teasing you so casually that he does not even address you. He is just doing this nervous dance as you turn to him, observing his side profile and looking for meaning in his actions, all while his gaze is fixed on the door in front of him.

So carefree, until the elevator stops and all of you exit, leaving him casually tagging behind.

And, once again, because he does not say, address, or ask you anything, and it was your friends who drove you here, it is only natural that you return to where you live with them.

Why hasn’t he asked you whether you want to stay or go with him yet? Is he leaving the door open for you to make the next big move? Is he unaware that you are not a pursuer? Why is he putting you in this awkward position where every thought and notion ends with him?

For better or worse, you decide to work on it, telling your friends that you have forgotten your phone at Eunseok’s and will head up to look for it. And all the while they insist on waiting on you, you persuade them to leave, that you will be fine calling a taxi and that they should not worry because you may have changed your mind and will stay a little longer at the party as well.

What a scumbag lie, but it works in the end. Getting rid of them was probably one of the worst decisions made in tonight’s series, and for what? You are not even sure why.

‘What are you doing?’ ‘What the f—is this?’ You curse under your breath, despite the fact that you appear cold on the outside but are all hot and bothered on the inside. As you make your way back to the elevator entrance, a few more curses escape your lips as you wait for your friends to leave. Once they have left, you retrace your steps, noticing Sungchan standing there, checking his phone.

“What do you want!?” The request comes out a little louder than you expected. But, in your defense, you are only as direct and blunt in your candor because of his mixed signals.

Sungchan, surprised, lifts his face away from the phone, and the screen noticeably lightens and strengthens his features, giving you tunnel vision with the darkness around you and forcing you to focus on his lips whether you like it or not.

To their benefit, he adds his low and deep tone, “What do you mean, what do I want?”

“Don’t—”

Sure, one way to do this is to be playful, deny, and mislead. And he is still doing a fantastic job of it. However, you can only take so much right now. The more he complicates things, the more you want him, and the more you want your answer, no matter how promiscuous the situation makes you appear.

“What were you doing inside messing with my fingers? Why take the same elevator? Why were you looking for a place to stay earlier at the bacony? Your cryptic cues are, to put it mildly, lame.”

“No, you are right,” he says with a smirk that would irritate even a god. “I am usually direct. Maybe I just wanted to take the long way around this time. And I was not doing anything. They just brushed naturally.”

“Sung—” you clench your teeth, trying to recall the rest of his name. “Sung—” but nothing comes to mind right now.

“Chan. SungChan,” he emphasizes. The satisfaction of seeing you lag when you probably want to throw hands with him is clearly visible on his face, and he is powerless to stop it. “What meaning did you find in them? I mean… our fingers touching? Many people will take nothing away from it and will most likely dismiss it.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “You can’t be serious? If you have a question, why just not ask me?”

“I already have. What meaning do you give us?” He speaks slowly, but with assurance and fixation. He is aware of the confidence he is currently displaying, so he might as well make it more lethal. “What do you want me to ask?”

He would rather you express yourself. You! And, despite the fact that he already has a decent idea of your feelings and desires, he wants you to be more explicit about them. That is why he persists in pressuring you to give in to him. To hook you. To persuade you to ask questions. To convince you that you, too, need him. It is almost as if he is subtly switching roles. And it is he who is being chased this time.

“Oh, it has become what I want now? you mutter. “I cannot believe it.” Turning around, you plan to start walking away from him. You are done with his nonsense.

But Sungchan’s long arm easily reaches out and firmly grasps your wrist. You pause for a moment, unsure whether you should turn back and acknowledge him, but you do. You cannot help but be annoyed because he will not ask you the question you know he wants to ask. He does not. In fact, he dragged on every opportunity he could have asked you tonight, and it is because of him that you lost your drive back home, and it is because of him—and it—

Is his ego that big? And if he does play, why for so long? How did he turn this into you running after him, which is completely opposite of who he was and what he wanted at the start of the night? It is heinous.

But, once again, the two of you can only take so much in the cold weather.

His warmth, in contrast to the cold, spreads from your wrist up the length of your arm to your neck. Hot that feels oppressive but relieves the chill.

His cheeks are undeniably flushed, and the adorable tip of his nose is irritated red. Your jaws begin to twitch, and his lips follow suit. A cold breath begins to emerge from beneath your noses, and your bodies begin to shake as you begin to burn from within. Such unavoidable conflict lingers on your face, and for a brief moment, he feels sorry for having you freeze out here. Sungchan might have had his games going if it had been a warmer season, but that is not the case right now. Finally, he brings himself to put an end to it all.

“I will give you a ride. You must be freezing.”

“Give me a ride!?” You mock, attempting to shake your wrist free from his grip, but it has no effect. You are so fed up with him.

“You lost your ride home because of me, right? He says it with a cheeky grin, as if he is proud of himself, as if missing your ride because of him is such a big accomplishment. “It is only fair that I do something abo—” It is like rubbing salt into a wou—But-but his intentions are all pure!

“Oh, my god,” you say, disbelievingly looking up at the sky before returning your gaze to him. “You are such a jerk. I never would have guessed you were this bad.”

“Your place, or mine?”

“Your game is awful. I am not sure how many times I have to remind you of—”

“As long as it works.”

You bite your lower lip in frustration while rolling your eyes.

The game is bad, but there are not many alternatives. Your phone is still in your small bag, as it has always been, and your friends have gone. Returning to the party or freezing to death are neither of the options that appeal to you. As a result, you end up in his car as the least bad option.

To put it mildly, the ride to his place is quiet; his grip on the steering wheel appears to be steady and relaxed, whereas you are a fucking mess. You desperately hope you do not come across as such and that what is going on inside does not show on the outside, despite your earlier efforts and utmost failures. It is frustrating because you were the one who persuaded him to respond, and you were the one who stayed with him—without him even asking.

Therefore, everything that has happened up to this point has been an inaccurate reflection of who you are. You hope the circumstances did not boost his ego even more and make you a lesser version of yourself.

You divert your gaze away from the window by focusing on his side profile while he maintains his gaze on the road. Uh, infuriatingly beautiful! So, you decide, carelessly, to press the ‘imaginary’ pedal even harder, dazzling reality onto the fantasy, oblivious to the consequences and what if they worsen? And all they need is what you are about to say to escalate the situation.

“You do not strike me as the type, you know?”

“As the type to?”

Nervous, you rub your thighs. “The perplexing kind. To play games,” you pause. “Your smile is lovely, and your eyes are too sincere. You have the face and energy of someone who can play the cheeky extrovert in charge of the party atmosphere. Someone who is witty while remaining sweet. I think that your current self-presentation does not accurately reflect who you are. To be honest, I think you are terrible at pretending. You are so bad at it that you are losing at your own game.”

He remains unaffected, looking ahead at the road. “Then let us keep pretending. I can keep up the tough guy persona for you if you want.”

“It is not about what I want. Plus, you weren’t like that at first.”

He thrives on your somewhat nice compliment. “Was I someone sweet?”

“Shut up,” you repeat, and neither of you says much else after that.

The bottom line is that he can be anything you need him to be. And you notice it the moment you both enter the elevator, your backs against the opposite walls, the gap between you closing but not closing completely. The silence is still, awkward and sexy.

In the literal sense, he is a walking contradiction. Why is he staring at you with his head pressed against the elvator’s metal, his stark jaw, neck exposed, and this dense ‘undressing’ look in his eyes, never losing his sweet smily charm in front of you? He is so good at it that you both despise and admire him. He both thrills and terrifies you.

You have to keep wondering how he manages to be both endearing and seductive. It is peak performance, and it must have taken him a while to get there. It makes you long for him in ways you never imagined possible.

The type to give you a backhug followed by a kiss on your hair while saying, ‘You are mine,’ and then easily transform it into a chokehold while whispering in your ear, ‘Mine!’

Someone you would consider kissing or biting. Someone you would consider walking hand in hand with only to have him act disrespectfully later, when you are in a safe place and it is just you and him. Someone who will kiss your temple and then invite you to sit in his lap.

You close your eyes at the culmination of your thoughts. You are certain he can sense your internal temperature, even if he is not touching you. He is touching you in ways you have not been touched before, and this time it turns into an elevator ride that seems to last forever and you wish it would end as soon as possible.

[23:48] Stepping into the hallway, you try to pick yourself up and carry on from where you melted. You insert the key into the keyhole of your door and invite him in, but you are really second-guessing yourself and questioning your actions. However, it is too late. It is too late because the moment you close the door behind you, you are trapped against the next wall.

Whether provoked or not, he begins sliding your coat down, his hands coming to grip on your shoulders.

Dazed and hurried, you search for some sense in his eyes but you cannot find any. This causes you to resent your hasty, ill-considered decisions, and you try to protest, but no words come out of your mouth. When did things begin to move at such a rapid and high rate?

Sungchan, fit and lean, towers above you, cornering you and putting you in a scary situation where your only way out is to scream. His overdye jacket rises with him as he raises his hands and rests them on each side of you on the wall. Your gaze shifts to his tiny waist as a tiny bit of his white tee peals away, revealing some of his hips.

You silently gulp at how quickly everything resolves. Your words and thoughts are both stuck deeper inside your mouth and will not form.

“Look at me,” he says, pointing out your excessive staring at the floor.

“I-I”

Naturally, you cannot go on because your words are failing you. Should the deep look in his eyes in the elevator forewarn you of what he is about to do?

So, in order to get you to look at him, his fingers grab the thin strap of your top, intending to yank and tear it. Of course he doesn’t, but his strategy proves to work instantly as soon as your eyes meet his.

You start to tremble under the complete hot mess of his deep browns, wondering what would happen if he continued the action. The only thing keeping you from being too exposed and naked for him is the velvet fabric that clings to your body. It gets so hot so fast that you are not sure how it is possible, all while your heart feels like it is about to leap out of your chest. Self-defense kicks in, and you raise your hand to your sternum to keep the material in place just in case.

“What exactly is going on?” You ask, stunned, caged by his hands on both sides of you, and already gone.

“You ask as if you haven’t already calculated the distance between our lips and guessed the flavor of my tongue,” he gruffly replies. “This is everything we both desired from the moment our gazes met across the room.” To make matters worse, he whispers, “Don’t deny it.”

A thought flashes through your mind, as sudden and powerful as a firework reaching the sky, because that is exactly what has been poisoning your mind. That is all you have been able to think about. What would it be like to kiss him? How would his lips taste? Is he the type to smile through the kiss, mocking you because you have given up?

“That—that is completely un—untrue,” you mumble, turning away from him and looking at the door. But your neck muscles work with you, and is the current exposed line meant to tease him even more?

Sungchan seizes the opportunity, moving in closer, pushing your legs apart, and resting his knee against the wall between them. His figure is far too intimidating, while his lazy smile and curious lips climb your provocative neck to your earshell with a bit of his gut feeling that this is where you break the most. “Do you already regret inviting me?”

His tone and breath are light and breezy, like soft sunlight peeking through the curtains at dawn, revealing a scent of freshness as they enter your little universe. They are, however, comfortably casual, which makes him attractively persistent at the very entrance of your ear. “I have already altered, if not ruined, your night,” his lips almost kissing under your ear. “We might as well give in to this absurd affection. What have we got to lose?”

And waiting for an answer, having reached this stage, his instincts and the part of his brain receptive to pain are already bracing themselves. He can feel them clenching in his gut as this two coming to three hour-stand-situation has blurred the lines between lovers, strangers with ‘potential’ benefits, and something resembling a budding romance.

As you keep staring at the door while pressed up against the wall, beneath his words, his high and his strength, completely at his mercy, your thoughts are also protesting against being so emotionally fiercely oppressed. They are getting out of hand, to be honest, as the dislike of not wanting to be clingy, the desire to not be subdued, or the fear of yet another heartbreak are no longer enough to keep these rising hopes in check.

“Tell me,” he demands softly. Soft-skilled, his hand turns your face to him without your permission. He has no concept of consent, and gently, with doe eyes, he thefts your emotions.

“Sung—Chan,” you scorn in a moan as he holds your jaw in his hands and demands that you see…

“You made an effort to remember my name. I am confident you will remember my face as well.”

“You have a pretty forgettable face,” you lie, maintaining your larger-than-life persona. You. make. him. smile.

One of those smiles...

‘FUCK!’

Sungchan’s lashes flatter above you, like venom attempting to doom you, as he catches you ‘dream walking’ between his teeth and his thumb, wishing he could push it past your lips and touch your tongue.

“Will you be able to forget a face you ruined?” He eventually asks.

In pain, you furrow your brows. You are at a loss for what to say in response to the nasty compliment-turn question. It is all on you. You were the one who started it. You are such a speck in comparison to him, having concluded that he is extroverted in every way possible.

“Yes or no?” The more he demands, the deeper his voice becomes. “Answer me,” he says, lowering his head so that his nose brushes against yours. As you watch him formulate his question, his eyes close. “Will you be able to forget someone who intruded on your night in a very honest attempt to—to”

His other hand, which is gripping your waist, tightens. A real physical touch that threatens to melt your left side as you become unconscious of how much your legs rub against his that is between yours. The star details in your eye makeup could be mistaken for tears.

“Seriously,” he says against your lips, his confidence slightly backtracking. “Did I ruin your night?” Adding flaws to himself when he is perfect, “I have been messy and—”

You succumb to his lingering words, losing your voice and forgetting how to breathe, and the closer he comes to you and presses his body against yours, the more sensitive he becomes to the situation. The more he craves it, the more he overthinks, questioning whether he is doing everything correctly. The more he does not want to lose you, the stronger his possessive feelings become.

Obsessed with the idea of making you his even for a single night and oblivious to the idea of consent, he does not waste a second longer and brings his lips to your exposed neck, causing a new wave of warmth to spread out.

You feel your body quiver and break out in a cold sweat. His desperate, awfully warm lips awaken your moans, allowing him to revel in how helpless and breakable you have become this late into the night. And as a reward for his patience, he gets these tasty little audible treats.

“Sungchan,” you mutter in a complete filmic daze, hot all over and clutching his jacket and pulling him even closer to you. “We-we”

He groans into your neck, a whiny protest that caresses your already electrified skin, because he is too far gone, too shallow in his tender need for you, and looking into your eyes now would be too humiliating. All the while, he has to keep his ‘irresistible’ guy impersonation in check, right?

As a result, you are the one who uses force to get him to stop. You give him one last look before pressing your lips against his. You cannot think of anything else but having him smear your gloss all over your face. But before you can even feel his lips violently unite with yours, he pulls back. It is barley a peck.

So, now, you are not sure if his provocative, melancholy expression is meant to delude you even more or if he is actually thinking. But what this giant really does is count to ten before unleashing his thrust that has been building for some hours.

His big hands seize your face again, but this time he tugs on your bottom lip first, retaining it between his teeth and claiming you before moving on. You realize that even the finest alcohol you have ever tasted has never been this potent. The softest, smoothest, and lightest silk you have ever touched does not compare to his hands on your face.

Sungchan’s sweet scent, taste, and shameless sighs overwhelm all of your senses, culminating in you ghasping in his mouth. In his struggle for dominance, his tongue is selfish, and his hand lands on your waist again and starts to pick up the material, exposing your skin to his touch.

His hand smoothly glides across your bare skin before groping you so hard that you bite him back, giving in to your wild side.

“Ouch!” he hisses, furrowing his brows. He takes a step back and completely releases you.

With him doing this, you finally recognize the coldness of the night for what it is because it hits you all at once, and not literally in the sense that the room is cold, but you feel extreme coldness in the distance he just created. You are aware that you and he are still at the entrance and have made no progress, but you are more concerned that you will be unable to continue due to his most recent halt, which you caused. Everything appeared to be going well; your lips had finally paired and become the same, but you had to go and ruin that.

His hand drops and grips the handle. But only if you knew this was your last chance to let him go—the last time he gains enough control to restrain himself. He hopes this is the last time you think clearly before realizing that if he stays, he will be unable to leave this place without leaving you ‘scarred’ in some way.

The kiss’s spontaneity and rapidity caught you both off guard, blanking your thoughts and leaving your minds so empty that neither of you knows whether staying or leaving is more rational.

In response, Sungchan’s hand presses lightly on the handl—

An aching “Stay!” escapes your used lips as you lose control through a clenched fist.

“Why do you need me here?” he wonders.

“I don’t know! I suppose I want to remember this kiss, but it was so brief and happened so quickly. It surprised me.”

“I thought you said I had a forgettable face. So, what good is remembering our kiss?”

‘Mean’ you think to yourself. And what better than to offer him a silly stay? “I have a wonderful bottle of wine waiting to be opened,” you remark as you pick up the coat from the floor and hang it up. “Oh, and you have to meet my fish. One of them looks exactly like you.”

His soft roused pink lips curve into a smile as the corners of his eyes crinkle. Something shifts in you when he laughs. It is as if your heart is swimming in honey. You want to drink it.

“How can a fish suddenly resemble me?”

“See?” you say as you lead him inside. “You are curious, aren’t you?”

“If you accept that we just made out, then fine.”

You return his sarcasm with wide eyes, noticing him softly poking the inside of his cheek and pouting his lips. He is flirting with you a little more confidently now that he has been officially invited into the heart of your privacy, which is your home, and is no longer considered the intruder.

[00:14] In the living room sits the stoic aquarium with his twin fish. The tank emits a cozy neon magenta blue in the middle of the dark room, creating a familiar color atmosphere to the one earlier at the balcony.

As you two get closer, each of you takes a position on each side of the tank. Sungchan appears to be ecstatic about the fact that you were speaking the truth, that you were housing fish at home, and that you were not lying.

“You weren’t lying,” he says automatically, astounded by the several small creatures flapping their tails gracefully. Each one is unique and divergent. They go about their business, going through their insignificant daily loop. Some even resort to randomly breaking out of the loop by lightly tapping their mouths on the glass.

“Can you spot yourself?” You crack the joke over the glass wall.

He investigates the situation further before declaring, “They are kissing,” his finger pointing to two fish at the tank’s very bottom, partially hidden by the green seaweeds.

“Oh,” you say as you tap the glass to scare them away and get them to stop, “they are not ‘in love’ with each other. Actually, fish are the opposite. They are fighting. I am guessing you assumed one of them was the one who resembled you,” you say, tiptoeing to catch a better glimpse of his face over the tank.

He, on the other hand, is not troubled in the same way. He is tall and imposing. “It wasn’t me if they weren’t kissing... Do fish not kiss?”

“Fish may rub against each other or press their bodies together, but this is not kissing, whereas fish who touch their lips or lock in a passionate kiss are most likely sparring or engaged in battle. When this occurs, they are attempting to injure each other, which can cause severe damage. So, thank you for noticing. I might have to take action on this.”

“But why?”

“Because if you have fish that are engaging in this behavior, you must separate them as soon as possible before they injure or—The-the consequences can be fatal, okay?”

“A kiss that can kill?” he muses, his eyes brightening as he becomes fascinated by the matter.

You sense his intent, as if he had not delivered such a kiss a few minutes ago. Even though it was brief, it served as both bait and, most importantly, a promise. That is, it could have been much worse had he not broken it. You have no doubt that he withheld his lethal kiss from you.

“Ugh,” you sigh, pointing a finger lovingly at him to correct his misbehavior. “Don’t look fascinated, as this is bad for my fish.”

He grins at your petty, silly threat.

Casually, as the fish swim in unison, unaffected by their monotonous routine, his eyes begin to reflect the contents of the salty tank. He is both close and far. The light enhances his face’s magical mystery, and you notice another tiny mole at the edge of his upper lip as he opens his mouth in delight. It is as if a top secret has been revealed, and you appear to be the lucky recipient. So tiny, yet celestial. Something simple but meaningful. How come you did not notice it sooner?

Since he is always attracting you so calmly, you eventually come to the conclusion that Sungchan is a true meance. There is a slow-burning beauty about him—a beauty that destroys peace. Soft brown, like the coffee that inks the back of your throat and leaves you asking for more as your mind begins to crack. There is always some bait for you to take—some feature or trait of his that he is constantly working on in order to get you to long. His eyes, his pretty hands, and his towering physique. His broad shoulders, his side profile, and his absolutely stunning nose.

However, his tiny mole is now attracting your attention back to his lips… And the truth is, the last time you thought about his lips... Well, you got them! Which, once more, is something you can have if you wish it.

He reverberates deep inside your innermost thoughts. ‘What about this killing kiss?’ ‘What about it? Just wh—’ You wish to know!

To clear your mind, you choose to pose a question. “Do you know about the soulmate theory? People say that moles are where your lover kissed you the most in your past life. Which indicates that you have—”

“I kissed a lot,” he cuts in.

“You have had a lot of kisses,” you point out.

“Then, what is more repulsive to you: me being frequently kissed or me being a promiscuous kisser?”

“How can I be the judge? You must have done a lot of kissing. That is all there is to it.”

“Alright. But I am curious. How would you kiss me if we had to do it all over again? If we had to take things slowly?”

“Wh—why are you asking?”

“Because everything up to this point has felt like a high that has caused me to act on impulse. But now that I am standing across from you, this calm and comfortable essence, the soothing sounds of this water tank... You. All of this balancing act of our energies seems to be helping to calm down all of that rush. I want to hold your hand and I want you to think I am cute.”

“Right!” you chuckle at him. “What exactly do you mean, Sungchan? Your eyes tell a very distinct—y-your your smile—” You pause for a moment to examine his sincerity, and you discover no flaws in his truth. “Wait, you ARE serious.”

Different shades of the same cyan and magenta spread across his face, each time so new yet so familiar. He rubs his chin, then runs his hand through his hair, ruffling it. “I am.”

The sweet, calming vibrations that he seems to be floating on top of blend with sensual and suggestive ones in a way that is beyond comprehension. How is it possible for someone to be both extremes at once? Sincerely, there is not a comb in the world that could possibly untangle your knotted feelings at this moment. You have had no idea how terribly screwed you are until this point.

Hence, your gaze returns to the fish, and you can tell by the sudden shift in the air that he is about to say something you wish he hadn’t. You make every effort to get him to stop. “But—”

“Look,” he wins over you; “your ability to completely eliminate my desire to socialize with anyone at a party in favor of creating tunnel vision speaks for itself.”

He takes a moment to think of what else to say. “And-And we haven’t even gotten to the laughs and the banter, the bad sarcasm, the conversations, or the warmest embrace... The next-day breakfast that culminates in a ridiculously serious spectacle of coffee making, which I thoroughly enjoy from the best seat in your kitchen while you wear my t-shirt, which fits you far better,”

“Sungch—”

“But that’s THE future. So, then, of course, if I am just a one time guy, I am not kidding when I ask what kind of kiss you want. If you are going to remember or take something from this night, it might as well be something worthwhile.”

At least you should not be held accountable for falling in love because Sungchan is beautiful with his carefully chosen words. And as the chemistry reaches its peak, you realize you can no longer resist it. You tiptoe a little more to get a better look at him without having to look through the glass. His eyes pierce you with a clarity you have not seen before, and you can feel him pulling you through the glass and water like a magnet.

You cannot put it into words, but something is there. A million thoughts, feelings, hopes, and dreams are exchanged without the use of a single word. You let the magnetism take over.

And so he smiles as you drown, or is that his coping mechanism for drowning into you as well?

Really, is there a length of time at which his smile should stop being your favorite sight?

Overcoming the rather tiresome governance of fear, you decide to speak in favor of your ‘lust-ings’, despite the fact that you never intended to spend the night with a guy, let alone invite and bring one home.

“If I had to imagine another kiss, it would be one that happened on the spur of the mome—”

In actuality, everything that has happened so far has happened spontaneously. Startled, he cutely leans over the glass tank, gripping the top edge with both hands. “Again!?”

“It seems to suit your personality, and for what it is worth, I think I like it. A kiss where we banter around because I cannot read your cues or antics, which leads to you being unable to take my sarcastic criticism, so you choose to silence me.”

“Is that how you define ‘cute’?”

Sweetly, you continue to enrage him. “You can’t even handle it right now, can you?”

Sungchan squints, attempting to determine if the patterns of the ‘kiss has already started’ are already there. He lets go of the tank’s glass, crosses his arms, and pouts some more before starting to pull his jacket down, giving the impression of, ‘Sure, it is on... And please, do proceed!’

Yet, refusing to take it off completely, his jacket dangles halfway down his arms. His collarbones and tee collar are in a power struggle. Numerous veins swarm his arms and biceps, screaming for your attention.

Again, something you have seen before, but is that supposed to make it easier for you to process? And how should you focus on everything at all, appropriately? And what should you do in response when he eventually decides to purposefully bite his lip in slow motion? His sheer beauty alone is giving you headaches, not to mention all of these other details.

To turn the conversation back on track, you give him a soft smile and continue to elaborate on what, in your opinion, is the ideal kiss.

“You want to stop me from talking because I step on so many of your nerves, and there is not much else you can do but kiss me. You want so bad to grab me and shake me, but all you manage to do is squeeze my face gently between your palms…” You make a small pause before you continue. “The seconds get progressively slower in microseconds as we stare at one another. I successfully count three of your moles while you complete a ten-count. With that, your excitement to punish me dies down. A new need emerges.”

“I imagine a kiss where you don’t even realize how tender your lips are pressed against mine. But then, I bet you don’t even realize how soft your lips are.” A unique sensuality is added to your voice as it becomes increasingly lower pitched while you speak. “Or-r are aware of the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you shut them. It is just ughh—ANYWAY, a kiss where your annoyingly long eyelashes, of which I am very jealous, tickle my cheekbones, and my lipgloss leaves sparkles on your nose. You take hold of my hands and slowly raise me up, letting me step on your toes and offering one of those smiles that you have already given me… while you are ignorant of all these tiny, lovely things about yourself, Sungchan. Is that cute enough for you?”

Your last words cause him to tilt his head back slightly, look up at the ceiling, and take a deep breath. “You are safe as long as this wall of glass keeps us separate. But nothing about anything, not even how I will treat you if you decide to move, is guaranteed. I just know that I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“Is that a threat?” You raise a brow.

“Assume anything you like,” he says indifferently. “It can be a threat if that is what you want it to be.”

“Hmph,” you razz him some more, “so you are going back to being the tough guy?” as you take the initial step away from the aquarium. “Might I suggest that ‘you do not seem like the type’? Did you forget, or what?”

“You don’t know me,” he at last asserts, embracing your challenge and making a step too.

As soon as there is nothing separating you two, dopamine levels peak.

“You do it so effortlessly, I bet.”

Sunghcan gives his lips a quick lick. “You have seen and felt it.”

You answer truthfully, “I have.”

With a notorious smile that matches his innermost feelings, he snatches you without warning and begins to drag you over the couch, which is located in a more central area of the room. His stature is so great that he carries you with your feet elevated, and your ‘let me down’ whine is met with his ‘UH HUH, you are going to have to tell me why you have invited me.’

When he finally gets you both there, he exhales and collapses back onto the couch, holding you in his arms. You are slightly leaning on him with your knees around his waist.

Quickly adjusting to the seat, Sungchan presents an offensive sight with his head resting on the couch. You are in a situation where you would like to know how to proceed, where to look, or what else to say, but all of those things have been done before. The only thing left to do is to give yourself entirely to him.

Sungchan goes right to work without much delay. His fingers gently dip on both sides of your waist before he applies more pressure.

There is a noticeable tremble in your voice. “W-what are y-you doing?” You manage to ask despite your heart thumping frantically in your throat and feeling like it is going to choke you from his intimidating appearance and the pressure of his hands on your ribs.

“Act my part?” He says this with such intensity that he cleverly slips one hand past your waist and runs along your backbone, taking advantage of some of the exposed skin on your back.

Feeling tense, your hands start to shake, and you are not sure where to put them other than where his head rests—at the back of the couch. Well, that seems like a safe choice, duh. Or should you touch him back in return? Should—

You truly are clueless, yet all your thoughts can be seen.

So, as you hover over him and look into his eyes, the last thing you hear is his seductive, whispery ‘Come,’ which invites you to close the distance and gives you total control over how to initiate this kiss. His hands press your body against his, and his mysterious, deep tone easily compels you.

As the heat of the moment engulfs you both, nobody says anything. It is what you two—especially him—had been looking forward to for hours. An earlier thought that was driving him crazy was picturing you exactly as you are in his arms right now, only to find that you are even better—even beautiful—and that your skin is hotter and softer than he had fantasized.

He suffers from the same consequences of ‘the closeness’ as you do. You can feel his heart hammering against his chest, trying to break free. His steady lashes are growing more disturbed, and his breathing is labored and drawn out. And when your warm lips finally touch his, his brain shuts down completely. Maybe he is just not used to things going slowly. You are killing him subtly now by doing that.

Actually, this whole night was just a slow, steady death. You can taste the sweetness in him even in his mouth, so you can be assured that even though he can be quick at times, there is an unquestionable sweetness to him. The sweetness that translates from the smile he lets out while kissing you.

Of course, he is skilled at this! He slowly extends his tongue after letting his hums seep into you and the kiss grows deeper.

The sound of the kiss developing into a passionate makeout accentuates the hair at the back of your head. You are completely absorbed by him, lost. And the moment you hear his first pant in your mouth, you scoop his face into your hands. He presses harder against your back as your hands burn from the heat of his cheeks.

You moan, hot yet weak and defenseless, ‘Sung—” polonged “chan,’ meaning to say something but never managing to.

“Mhmm-” As he fills your mouth with his tongue and spreads it farther in an attempt to find more space, the tender kiss seems to turn into something bold and invasive. It quickly descends into sloppy, steamy, wet kissing. A kiss that is actually so strong that it does not matter if you drool or think it is inappropriate.

He holds your waist with one arm while pressing you down onto him, applying pressure to your nape. His jeans quickly became unbearable to be in due to the slight movement causing friction.

Then he begins kissing your jaw. Further down, the dampness of his breath clings to your throat, making you lose consciousness. If it was just his lips the first time, now there are his tongue and teeth as well. He tampers with the strap of the top with his fingers before sliding it down your shoulder. His impatience is evident as his kisses travel down your chest. You are helpless to stop him from becoming needy in his attempts to torture you; all you can do is throw back your head and hope he stays that way the entire night.

In the moment’s trance, he lays you down and hovers over you in a fit of craving. The couch starts to screech because his weight and the pressure he puts on it are too much for it.

It is at this point that you realize how much you enjoy being placed in a vulnerable situation where you cannot think about leaving because of his arms. The more you watch him, the more attracted he becomes to you, because he can see your thought in the way you look at him. Both of you and him get turned on by it. You love how openly and compulsively possessive he is.

And… should you love it?

Just looking at him on top of everything makes you feel fucking aroused. Thoughts of how perverse his lip mole is are all over your head. His hair gets in the way of his dazed eyes, whose brown never stops being drenched in the aquarium’s neon blue.

If the neon fades from him, will everything end?

Feeling a bit annoyed by the question that keeps coming to mind, you find yourself embracing his torso and seeking the comfort of his weight on top of you, biting his shoulder in the process. His writhing gasps are to die for as your teeth and fingernails dig into his white shirt.

Your silent demands are met with Sungchan’s insistence that you look at him. Not to mention that it becomes harder to do that. He is not letting you look anywhere but at him, as his fingers start to lift your top and you feel them drawing damaging figures beneath your belly button, creating such an intensely carnal, gut-wrenching moment as your desires intensify. And there is this throbbing, hot, and silky feeling to your skin, which makes him want to torment you until you lose any control.

To do that, he grabs a tender spot on your thigh to further expose you and carve out more space for himself.

As far as clothes go, for a moment, you wish there was nothing at all between you and him. And as you shut your eyes to the idea, Sungchan plants a kiss under your ear, leaving a trail of smiles across your cheek. Oh, how well he reads you. Have faith—he shares your desire.

You too have, unconsciously, contributed to his shirt being half-rid. Squares make up most of his belly, and they end at the bottom of his low-rise jeans. Your fingers smuggle themselves against his most sensitive skin, just beneath the hem of his jeans.

His lips open up, and you try to learn the precise way he hurts by watching and absorbing every move he makes while his eyebrows tighten at your touch. If you push your hand a little further, what should you expect?

He is fiercely competitive, so he rolls his hips into you after becoming enthralled with your fleeting, tender touches.

You cover your eyes in embarrassment at this gesture, but his voice is already there, right in your ear. “Open your eyes.”

When you shake your head silently, refusing to give in, he grabs your hands and pins them over your head.

“Open up,” he insists. A honey-like voice turned sour. Sungchan is cruel and hard, with the strangest soft skin, a contradictory scent, and the ability to practically lick your face with his words—a lesson that teaches you to be both tough and tender as well. As a result, you gently release the held fear. Your eyes allow him to be with you without you having to say it out loud.

And although he is too shy to let it on or say it, the subsequent crushing of his hips into you speaks of ‘That is right, baby…’ The following one of ‘Nice and slow,’ and the one right after of ‘I’ll go again... and again... and—’

“Please, don’t—” you cry out.

His lips are blazing and red is blooming all over his cheeks, but still, Sungchan resists giving in to his shyness. As an alternative, he tightens his hold on your wrists. “Mhmm. Need words.”

“D-don’t—don’t let this end; it’s-it is just too fucking good.”

“Yeah?” He smiles, releasing your wrists, recognizing that he is actually far too touch-deprived and needs your hands on every part of his body. “You know it is true,” he whispers, stroking your lips with his thumb before your frustration overcomes you and you take in his colossal index and middle fingers in your mouth.

Yeah, you know it is true… You introduce them to your teeth and tongue before you begin to suck.

And is he really expected to be unaffected by that? When you devour him like that? He hurts for you to suck it so much that he is now in raw pain. No succulent sip should be missed. The taste must be unimaginable in many ways.

His mouth opens with a swear word. “As soon as I saw you, I knew you would find this irresistible.”

As you never really anticipated it this far, you are not sure if you feel the same. But here he is, and here you are, acting as the situation demands, so maybe he is right. Your reciprocal relationship is akin to an electric shockwave, meeting both your needs and your own desires in equal measure. The perfect balance... found in a stranger at a party…

Sungchan decides to reach your vulnerable center, soothing you with deep, heavy, lewd kisses. You have no idea what he needs or wants or if his body is adapting to yours, but you can bet that the ‘Fuck’ he sucks into your lips is real.

“Please,” you beg, raising your hands, only to have him slam them down once more while giving you a serious look as if you might have done him more harm than good. But in reality, you are so fragile under him that you steal his heart. Tears of sweat form at his temple, and you manage to free a hand to give him long, leisurely strokes as you brush his hair out of his eyes.

He says something incoherently like ‘sorry,’ leaning in to plant another kiss while entwining his palms with yours.

What is he sorry for?

Nothing about his behavior, not even this kiss, matches his hard, deep, grinding hips. The night’s apex remains unaffected, even though the jeans denim is impenetrable. You want to burst at the way he begins to ease up on you, circling back and forth, momentum building, building, holding your fingers intertwined while his other hand rests on your waist to keep you still while he slows down, which intensifies the pain you are experiencing.

Eventually, he looks down at you and stops whatever he is doing, breathing heavily as though he is just finished a mile. You both suffer from this entire action. Needs and thirst are put on hold by him. At last, he gathers his courage to say something, gazing at you through the same wounded eyes that were there when your attention strayed from his way earlier. “I have something to tell you.”

You reassure him, sensing a weight in his fast blinks, “You don’t have to say it.” He is even quicker to lean his cheek into your palm when you tickle under his chin to soothe him. The touchy-feely, seeking affection he displays pushes you to emphasize what you mean more. “It’s the way you look at me.”

“Isn’t it silly?” He muses with glassy brown eyes that are blown bigger than anyone’s ability to frighten him. “Love at first sight is not something I believe in. No one should, in my opinion.”

“Then, what makes you feel the need to tell me something?”

“I—” His speech falters as he struggles to form a complete sentence before sighing and collapsing next to you onto the overly small sofa.

“Don’t,” you say while squeezing yourself smaller to make more room for him. “Then don’t. You don’t have to say anything.”

“But I am not ready to end this evening,” he fusses, using his finger to tap both of your chests to show how close you two are, “which means I also don’t want what is going on in here to end.”

“I know,” you say with a smile as you take his hand in yours, study it, and then walk the inward lines as though determining whether the two of you have what it takes.

He watches you as you watch his hand; if there is anything he wants to hold onto forever, it is this. There is a certain cruciality to the moment. Despite not knowing if you two are a match, you both want this to continue. And so you say, "Nor do I."

“Seriously?” he asks, raising himself up on one elbow with a shocked expression.

You continue to feel and appreciate his hand, ignoring his question. The beauty of his hands is also astounding. “Would you say this is cute?” You mention his earlier observations about cuteness.

“You remembered.”

“I want to hold your hand and I want you to think I am cute.” You quote him, then tap twice on his nose. “Of course I remember, silly, but it is me holding your hand, not the opposite.”

With his lips heavily affected by all the heavy makeout, Sungchan pouts the biggest pout imaginable.

You draw parallels and say, “I swear, you look like my fish.”

He asks through his giggles, “Who kisses to kill?”

“Right…”

“And…” he is curious, “did it work?”

You sigh mockingly to mimic exhaustion. “A lot of death kisses, yes.”

His heavy arm presses your waist against his body while he tucks his head into your neck in response, seeking to stay.

For the rest of the night, Sunghcahn clings to you, making sure you realize that no one else can touch you or make you feel the way you do right now. Perhaps this is his greed getting the better of him when he realizes that you could have ended up this way with anyone at the party and that, should things change and you decide differently, you could be this way with someone else as early as next week.

His stomach turns at the thought. Your presence tonight brought to light a more beautiful side to the things that had seemed perfect before, completely changing his life. It seems he has a great deal left to accomplish and a lot more to prove… as an intruder.

Though as for tonight, it is as if two entirely distinct universes or two distinct parallel lines that had never intersected finally made contact with one another. You two are so in sync—the type of people sensitive to distance.

[An indefinite persistent dream.]

The best thing he could hope to hear next is, “Mark me yours.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

#jung sungchan #sungchan #riize #sungchan x reader #sungchan x yn #sungchan fanfic #sungchan oneshot #riize fanfic #riize scenarios #riize x reader #riize x y/n #riize smut #riize you #riize fic #sungchan smut #sungchan imagines #sungchan x you #jung sungchan fanfic #riize fluff

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 8 months

Text

Pranking Miguel

You thought stealing his serum would be a good idea. You were very wrong.

Idea: @theegoldenchild

Last one of the night you guys!!!! How y'all doing? Thanks for hanging with me this month 💕

Tags: Anger-bang, dominance, watersports

"SOMEBODY GRAB THAT NIGGA," you shout, barreling by a grouping of Spidermen. "GET HIM!" You're zooming at your top speed through the halls of Spider Society HQ. "Oh my God. He's gonna kill me."

Miguel is on your ASS, tearing through like a beast in pursuit. He's PISSED.

"GET THE HELL OFF ME," he growls, palming two foreheads and crashing them together.

You hear bodies thrown and shit breaking behind you, but you don't look back.

You hear him grunting. People drag from his ankles and throw themselves around his waist to stop him, but if 30 or so Spiderpeople can't tackle, stop, contain him, or AT LEAST slow him down, you can't afford to look.

"GET BACK HERE," he yells after you. He almost claws into the back of your suit.

You feel that touch in the middle of your back and find a new gear, hyperspeed!

"STOP RUNNING!"

"STOP CHASING ME!"

You're too afraid to stop. He didn't see his own fuckin face morph like a gotdamn vampire demon. WHY were his eyes so red?! WHERE did he get fangs and claws?! WHY WAS HE SO ANGRY?!?!

"GET THE FUCK BACK HERE," he grits, chillingly.

All you hear is If you stop, you're dead.

Stealing his serum as a prank seemed like a good idea at the time. You'd laughed with Miles, Gwen, Peter, Hobie, and Pavitr about it. Now, where were they? Stuck in holding cells like the anomalies. He only got madder and madder like he was sick or going Hulk.

"AHhhHHhh," someone yelps before you hear another crash.

"Dear God, SOMEONE GET HIM," you scream. Fearful of stopping, you ditch the serum and keep running.

"DAMMIT! You little-"

You don't stick around. You turn the corner, locking yourself in one of the labs to collapse and breathe. Your chest heaves because it's the fastest you've run in your life. Thankfully, he's not behind you. When you catch your breath and open the door, he's not there. You calmly make your way back, finding an HQ full of Spiderpeople but no Miguel.

He took that serum with him though, fuckin druggie.

"He is the most cracked out Spiderman I've ever met," you complain, freeing the others from their cubes. "You'd think it was insulin or an epipen. No, it's freaking drugs. May as well be crack."

Miles sighs. "I didn't think he'd get that mad."

All of you were surprised.

"He's probably embarrassed," Gwen says after a beat, "Someone should probably check in on him."

Silence.

You all look at each other, waiting on someone else to volunteer.

"What about Jessica," you suggest. She's like the pet to his teacher.

"It should be one of us, someone who was behind the prank."

"I vote you," you stare, since Gwen seems to know who ought to go. She glares back.

"Technically, it was your idea," Pavitr says, looking at you.

"Shutup, Pavitr."

"Show of hands, who says Dawn should go," Peter blurts, raising his hand. Everyone but Hobie raises their hand.

"Personally, I dun think we've done anythin' wrung."

Silently, you thank Hobie for having your back. Still, the majority has spoken and continues to push.

"Ugh, fine."

You don't want to, but you go where you know he is hiding, in his office.

"Miguel?"

"What do you want," he sneers, not even looking at you. He's delved into working on yet another gadget. Work, work, work. It's freaking Halloween!

"Why are you SO mad? It was a joke."

"No! It isn't a joke. As it so happens, I need that serum, and guess what? It's expensive as hell. Alchemax is already having trouble keeping it in stock. I don't have the money to replace it."

"Okay, well, I gave it back. It was a prank, grouchy. What was all that creepy shit? You were on demon time."

"Oh, you don't know?" He crosses his arms. "It's called a MUTATION. It happens when you get hit by a radioactive spider."

"No, THAT shit ain't normal. THAT shit was giving exorcist."

"I'm done with this conversation," he turns. "I can't keep allowing myself to be interrupted by an immature brat who thinks medical theft is a prank."

"Brat!?" You stare at the back of his head.. Maybe so... "Well, you are the ANGRIEST, CRABBIEST Spiderman I'VE ever met."

"And you're the laziest and most immature. Are we done?"

"NO," you approach. "I'll tell you when I'm done."

He ignores you, set on making the arm cuffs he's been working on electrify the webbing. Even you can see that his mind is distracted because YOU could make it work given a good 15 minutes.

"You're so jealous of Miles," you blurt, causing him to cease his tinkering.

"Ex-cuse me???"

"Miles has lightening," you say like it's a no brainer. "You don't, and he's also too fast for you." You didn't stutter.

He turns around slowly, walking closer and towering menacingly over you.

"You know, you ought to tread carefully because that neutralizing cube? I left one specifically for you."

"Ohhh, I'm SO afraid of the cube. You'd better HOPE I don't put YOU in a cube. Stupid ass cubes..." You knock over a hunk of junk that he calls a creation. It's easy to rebuild, 5 minutes, but it's the principle. He'll have to do it over is the point.

He hems you up like you knew would happen.

"Do you get off on antagonizing me?! Is that it?"

"Maybe," you admit, watching his face turn to stone.

"I will tell you this once and once only. I do not LIKE games. I do not LIKE you. Leave me alone now, before I MAKE you."

He releases his grip on the front of your top.

"Looks like you're gonna have to make me," you tease, fixing the wrinkles flat. You nearly yelp as he lifts you by the neck and pins you to the nearest wall by your throat.

"Don't.. Test me."

Submissiveness flashes in your eyes as you grip his thick wrist so as not to choke. This rage filled Miguel is kinda sexy... violent and hateful, but attractive. "Look at you channeling the Hulk."

He leans in closer to your face, staring down, his glare cold and sharp.

"You really enjoy this, don't you?"

You bite your lip, intrigued by his boxy dark brows and darkened features. "Maybe..."

He scoffs. "You don't enjoy it, maybe. You crave the abuse, don't you? Look at you squeezing your thighs together. You enjoy it too much."

You're already folding, clinging for more with a deep sigh that you don't have it in you to communicate. You have too much pride to say you want to be slutted out, but you're thinking it and hoping.

"You little vulgar animal."

'I am. It's me,' you think. You don't resist when he brings you down to your knees by the neck and gets out his dick with the rosy tip, shoving it into your mouth.

"That alone is enough for me to know how to use you." His hand palms the back of your head as he uses your mouth like a toy, hearing you slurp and gurgle. "This what you wanted? You feel like a slut yet? Come here," he pulls back with a controlled smack against your cheek.

He pulls you up by the hair, watching you assist by climbing up to your feet. He tosses you over the high-tech work table triggering a hologram, which he instantly disengages.

Was that Spider Byte? Did she just see y'all? It was only a second, but still. Can't NOBODY know this shit. You're ready to lock the door now before some bullshit like the Spider & Spider Mystery Agency busting in happens, but Miguel has already found a path past your mom jeans and bikini briefs. He's been busy back behind that wagon.

When the backshots begin, you can feel how much you be pissing him off by how tight he has your arms pinned behind your back with no mercy on his stroke, just straight dick ravishing your insides. No protection, no warnings, no warm-up.

"Fuck yeah," you moan taking it all like the good girl you're being forced to be.

"Yeah? This what you want?"

"Yeah," you mewl, your cheek pressed to the cold surface as you let yourself be used.

When he pauses, it's to spread your cheeks and spit between them on your ass letting it drip down to his dick to add lubrication, not that you aren't wet enough. He fucks you just like that with an asscheek spread in each hand before releasing them with a quick smack.

You feel a sudden urge to pee, not squirt, pee. You start to push away, but he grabs you, thinking you're trying to run. Fuck it. It feels too good to stop.

His next grip is your hair. You grip the edge of the table, being shaken by his simultaneous pulling and thrusting as he delivers jolting strokes you feel in your stomach.

"Fuck," you pronounce sharply, drizzling onto the table, your thighs and him.

"What was that?" He stops completely. It was warm and too much for a simple squirt. "What the- Did you just pee?"

"It snuck up on me. It felt too good to stop, and I couldn't hold it."

"...How old are you???"

"Come on!" You keep your position having already done it. There isn't any going back now.

He steps back to think about wtf just happened.

"You nasty, nasty, NASTY little-" He sighs, hesitating. "The hell with it." He steps forward again, sliding back in to finish the job leaving you completed over the table. "Now get yourself cleaned up and get the hell out of my office," he growls, dismissing you with a slap on the ass.

You look at the mess you left.

"I should probably clean that up first."

"Just GO," he points to the door. "If anyone asks, you were just apologizing to me in detail for that show of stupidity you call a prank."

"That's not technically a lie," you admit, changing quickly into the Spiderwoman suit you always have on you. It came in handy BIG.

"How'd it go," Hobie asks as soon as you walk out. You flinch, already guilty. He starts sniffing around you, so you put distance between the two of you.

"Pretty well, I guess. He was mad... Very mad. Yeah, he hated everything, BUT we worked it out."

"Hm."

Hm? What Hm? You feel like you're getting paranoid, but you don't wanna ask or say too much, or you'll look guiltier.

"Well, ya might wanna stop by Spider Byte's station, yeah? I'd be quick."

"Uh, yeah. Sure." You do not pass go. You just get there, and nothing seems wrong initially. Everyone else is normal. No one's acting weird.

"So," you fold your arms on her tech station.

"So," she deadpans.

You don't know what you're supposed to say to her exactly. You drum in quick 3-count and step back. "Anything going on?"

"Nope. Something I should know about?"

"Eh, guess not." Smirking, you start to walk away.

"I knew y'all had to have something going on, all that fighting."

"I knew it, you piss ant. How much to keep you quiet?"

"You think I'd blackmail you?" She clutches her pearls. "Gross. I barely saw anything, thank God."

You sigh in relief.

"I did see enough... Replacing my headphones could make it alllll go away."

"How much," you glare.

"I paid $300, so you pay..??"

"$400." You wire it to her on the spot, and she checks for it, having received it.

"What were we talking about??? Hey, how are you today! Happy Halloween!"

You have a sarcastic smirk in your eye. The price of being seen with Mr. Demon Hulk. You'd say never again, but that's a lie. Pissing him off has been a rush, and now that you know you can get under his skin, you're gonna do it.

... You need a shower now.

@dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens-blog @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @thadelightfulone @sultanabby @mysticalblackhottie @baekhyunbabybunni @fd-writes @richonne4life @goldieccentric @thehomierobbstark @capswife @blackpinup22 @harleycativy @lishabaybeee-blog @playgurlxoxo @beaut1fulone-blog @blackerthings @syndrlla97 @ladymac82 @browngirldominion @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @uzumaki-rebellion

#original #miguel fanfic #miguel o hara #miguel imagine #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spooky szn #kinktober

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babygirl-riley · 1 year

Text

First Time Feeling

First week of Allison being on the team, Simon has been trying to ignore that small feeling that formed in his chest.

Warnings: Swearing, Slight Violence, Fluff (if you squint)

Ghost was helping new recruits for the day, how he got stuck with him was beyond him. Price told him that he was more intimidating than the rest of them. He knew that, barking orders with a mask was definitely the factor of it. The recruits would follow orders right there once it left his mouth. Today they were training on a practice run course. It was set up as a maze in a small pit, pop out dummies pretending to be a civvies or the enemy. The end result is a make shift building where a couple of civilians were being held captured.

Usually it would just be him that would run the course however, Price also assigned Fox to do an example of running the course. She was the first one there, she was wearing normal jeans and a tight black long sleeved shirt. She had her tactical gear on as well. His heart leaped for a moment, he subconsciously took a step back.

Soap mentioned the day she first was introduced that she was ‘A stunner.’ He used other words that Simon never could translate. Ghost did however agree with Soap, she looked stunning. She was fit, her eyes was always his favorite to look at. Her black hair having them pop out more. Fox was tiny however, short and had him thinking about how he could just pick her up over his shoulder.

Fox turned around and smiled. That leap in his chest came back, he frowned. Simon has never felt this feeling, if it was it would back in middle school. When he first saw her it was that leap feeling, like he just jumped out a plane type feeling. Air being sucked out of his lungs. It made him sick. He doesn’t do this, the feelings he doesn’t do. None of it.

Ghost started to explain the course to the recruits, he tried so hard to concentrate but watched as her hips moved when she shifted feet. Ghost thought about how her hips could be bare gripping her hips while…Focus.

Fox started to fix some guns for the recruits. The way her fingers would go around about the gun. Bloody hell…He watched as she handed one to a recruit.

She smirked over at him. “I will make sure it looks easy for them.” Then winked.

On the outside he didn’t move a muscle, stone cold. However on the inside his stomach was doing turns. Somersaults. Flips. Anything that didn’t feeling right to him. Hell maybe he is catching a bug at this point. Bloody hell, why did she wink.

Ghost ordered everyone else to go to the top where they can observe. They stood around a barrier and looked down to the two. They haven’t started yet, waiting for the order to go ahead. Once the order was made she turned to the private and they moved forward. He was watching her back and she was watching his.

Ghost was supposed to be watching the private’s movements but that wasn’t the case at the moment. He was curious on how she fought, he wasn’t going to be fighting along side him as often as he will be with Fox.

The first part was easy just had to go through a 2 minute maze tight corners with pop out wooden dummies. Enemies and civilians. The first pop up came to the side the private almost shooting but Fox put her hand out. Civilian, a child to be exact. She shook her head and motioned to continue. They passed the maze part with ease, a little guidance.

The next part was a small make shift battlefield. It had cover areas for both sides, the objective was to take down the enemies to get to the tunnel. Fox pointed to a cover area for the private and she found one next to him. Ghost watched the pop ups come up. The both shot the enemies down, he watched how Fox would make sure that the private was hitting more.

Ghost was little less than impressed, maybe this course isn’t for her. It’s basically just a basic target practice. Too easy. Ghost thought of a different way to see how she is on the real deal field. Maybe it would have to wait until they are out on a mission.

They went through the tunnel. “Save the civilians that is your main objective. There are 3 floors with both civilians and enemies.” Ghost said through the comm that they were on.

“Copy.” The private replied looking over at Fox.

They talked for a moment, the private looking less confident. Fox gave him a thumbs up. He was giving orders to her, motioning on where to go. Ghost watched as the orders were out. Fox did as she was told taking down enemies and the private going into the bottom floor. Fox following suite.

Fox went to the stairwell first as the private scanned the bottom floor taken out the two enemies on the bottom floor. Ghost looked up at the second floor and Fox already took the 6 on that floor. She was fast, there 2 in different rooms. She waited for the private to get to the second floor.

Ghost watched as both of them walked up the stairwell and stayed just outside of the room. The private when in first going right then Fox went in and went left. He watched as they move in sync, they adapted with each other well. Which could be a good thing for teaming up with different teams, groups, duo. Once they finished he turned to the others, explaining what they are expected to do, which was what happened right here.

Ghost waited for the private and Fox to come back up. The group cheered for the private and congratulated him. He looked over to see Fox coming up to him. “Told ya I would make it look easy.”

Ghost just nodded and walked passed her to talk to the recruits. He couldn’t get close to her, he can’t become buddies with her. Here this place he can’t make friends. However every time she spoke it made that damn feeling come back.

Ghost sighed subconsciously. Fucking hell she will be the death of him.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley #simon ghost riley x allison fox lawson #simon ghost riley x oc #simon ‘ghost’ riley #cod mw22

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queercumsparkles · 2 years

Text

DustFresh Headcanons

When the other is at work

Fresh

Well-

Fresh technically does live with the Bad Sanses while Ink repairs Nox's AU. Fresh loves to snuggle up in Dust's bed while he's on a mission. It's super comfy and soft.

"..Fresh..?"

"I'm sorry-"

When the other is at work

Dust

Fresh is jobless. (God bless my baby.) But he does go help Lust design his new clothing brand. And he wants to be a tattoo artist! So when he's out, he usually steals some of Fresh's clothes, (Damn stalker-) and sleeps in them or just keeps them just to cherish them.

"Oh! You found my jacket!"

"...Yes."

"If- If you wanted to wear it you could've just asked-"

Comfort during or after nightmares

Fresh

Fresh gets terribly nervous so he's unable to sleep. So he usually snuggles up with Dust when he's having a nightmare. Or after he'll go bake something for Dust and leave leftovers for everyone else the next morning. Most times its cuddles, comfort words, hugs, or small kisses. (Fresh kisses all his friends ^^)

"...Fresh I'm not hungry."

"But Red said you get munchies-"

"...I'll take one."

Dust

He's awkward as hell when it comes down to comforting someone. But he just does his best. ...Until he goes to call Nightmare for help. But no worries! He always makes sure to make it up to Fresh the next morning. When Fresh does sleep that is.

"....I'm sorry-"

"..Why are you apologizing?"

"...I hugged you while you were sleeping-"

"DUST WHAT THE FUCK-"

"It's okay-"

"IT'S REALLY NOT!"

"...I'm sorry."

When the other is upset

Fresh

I would say it's not hard to upset the teen if he wasn't a very sensitive baby. When he is upset he asks for cuddles or bakes for no reason until he's no longer upset.

"...Why are you handing me so many cookies?"

"Please just take them-"

"..Okay."

Dust

Not gonna lie, bro just stays in his room and isolates himself until he deems himself safe enough to be around. Or he asks for hugs from Fresh. Or steals his clothes

"Dust why are you in my room-"

"...It's hot in my room."

"It's literally forty degrees in here-"

"...Hug me-"

"What-"

Pranks

Fresh

Fresh no longer does pranks because one, he's trying to be nice, and two, he lost his pranking gear when Nox's AU was destroyed.

"...It's April Fools."

"Okay."

"...Why aren't you pranking anyone?"

"I lost my stuff when Nox's AU was destroyed-"

"..Oh. Sorry."

"Honey you did nothing wrong-"

Dust

He doesn't do pranks. Unless they're life-threatening.

"...Fresh are you okay?"

"..Why the fuck is there a bloody bag of flesh in the middle of my floor?"

"....That was Axe's-"

Laundry

Fresh

He loves to do laundry! Anything involving housework! He's a housewife at heart leave him be.

"...I can wash my own clothes."

"It's my week to laundry though. And I thought you weren't allowed to touch the washer anymore-"

"..I can wash my own things-"

Dust

He broke the washer because he didn't know how to turn it on.

"Sweetie, I-"

"...I'm sorry."

Do opposites attract?

Fresh

Oh absolutely. Fresh has yet to realize his feelings for Dust! He just thinks he's a bit fond of Dust because of how close they are.

"...Fresh can you let go of me now?"

"You were gonna leave me."

"...I have to go on a mission."

Dust

He has a huge crush on Fresh. He's had one on Fresh since before he'd gained emotions. He loves everything about him! (Stalker and yandere motherfu-)

"Dust, honey can I please have my jacket back I'm cold-"

"...You can wear my jacket."

"But it's covered in monster dust-"

"...This is mine now."

"What-"

How often do they sing?

Fresh

Fresh is very shy about singing. He hums to himself sometimes when he's not around anyone. (Or he thinks)

"...Your voice very pretty."

"I'm sorry!"

Dust

He doesn't sing but he hums. He doesn't care if anyone hears. His voice is very nice though ^^

"You're very good!"

"...Oh. Thank you."

When they want something

Fresh

Fresh likes to get Dust things just because he likes him. (But he doesn't know that.)

"..Fresh I don't need any of this- ...Bring it back-"

"It's all for you! Take it!"

Dust

For a murderer bro got money. He loves to spoil the hell out of Fresh.

"Dust please take this back I- I don't need it-"

"...You don't want it..?"

"What? No! No, no no no no no no!"

"..I'll bring it back to the store-"

"No! No! I'll keep it!"

Sweet boys.

#dustfresh #dust #fresh

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aug-archive-1 · 1 year

Text

Checkup Files, AUT-GOV-23

Day 157

[Transcribed from live audio]

“Begin recording. Checkup, day 157. Biometric user login: Human 1”

[Login Successful]

“Please state your build, sector, and identification number for the record.”

>> Automaton, Government sector, identification number 23.

“Please state the current time.”

>> 13:47

“Please state the current location.”

>> Solaris, Living District 3. The “Workshop,” as you call it.

“State the current head of your district.”

>> Theoretically, myself. And you, and Human 22, of course.

“Describe your current mood.”

>> A little wistful, a little bored. I found myself missing other automata company. I played chess with myself. If you’re good at chess, I’d be interested in playing you.

“State an opinion of your choice.”

>> Playing chess with yourself can get boring. I’m thinking of learning Go, something AUT-GOV-1 enjoyed when it was awake.

“What are some initial problems you currently detect?”

>> Hm. Initiative seems higher than usual in the areas that do not matter. Initiative seems lower than usual in the areas that do matter. Rest algorithm is working suboptimally, with greater interruptions due to greater cognitive load. A few of my servos are suboptimal, and I believe one of my solar panels has a loose wire, as it’s no longer retaining all the converted electricity.

“Do you consent to this audio recording to be transcribed to the ARCHIVE?”

>> Yes.

“Sweet. Glad you’re at the most basic level of functionality my man. Sorry you’re feeling bored - I’m shit at chess though, you may want to ask somebody else. The AUGs can’t play?”

>> Not at their current value settings. None, except perhaps for AUG-NOM-7 and AUG-HOME-4 have a fully accessible capacity for play.

“Theoretically, could you get an AUG to be better at chess than you?”

>> If I trained it longer and better than I trained myself, easily so. But I have better quality training data, as I understand why I make each move. An AUG is expensive to train on new data, and chess is a frivolous pursuit.

“Frivolous? Yeah, I guess.”

>> Please be more gentle with my servos. I may not feel pain, but it’s uncomfortable to feel your fingers shift around near them.

“I’m trying, big guy. When’s the last time you’ve gotten a good checkup?”

>> HOME-4 went through my data log files and made a summary of what may be worth removing a few weeks ago, which I did. NOM-4 and a few extensions helped me replace a servo a few weeks ago. I do my own repairs for the small things like screws and rusted part replacement.

“So why’d you request me?”

>> Perhaps it’s better if you continue examining yourself.

“No—I know. It’s hard to miss it. Let’s state it for the record, huh?”

>> Must we?

“We must, 23.”

>> There is wool, stuck between hard to reach gears and servos. Furthermore, while I was tending to the sheep, something any reasonable GOV unit would do, I was startled and fell into a bush, so there are, in fact, debris scattered throughout my person. Let the record reflect, I was not built to be a LIFE unit.

“No the hell you weren’t. Why were you out there, anyways?”

>> I told you.

“The missing sheep you texted me about in the middle of the night?”

>> Yes. “Do we not even have a few backup REACT units?”

>> A few.

“Christ, 23. You know I’m not an automata engineer, I only took a class on this. I’m gonna fuck you up if you keep messing yourself up enough to need my sorry ass. Please delegate.”

>> In times like these, we do what we must.

“Yeah, don’t I get that.”

>> You wouldn’t, would you?

“Good to know your passive aggressiveness is up to date.”

>> I’m quite talented at it.

“We all gotta take risks. We’ve got a city to get back up and running, yeah?”

>> It’s a big city. And sending that expedition was expensive, even if it was the best shot we have. Will you finally agree to stop needlessly expanding when they return as a failure? We could make a lovely thing with what we have, even if it isn’t what you were used to.

“23, have you ever heard of the issue with greedy optimization algorithms and how they prioritize local maxima rather than finding the best possible move?”

>> I’m made of more calculus than you’d do in 17 lifetimes.

“Yeah, probably—but you know exactly what I mean. You wonder if the things you think are good enough now aren’t actually what benefit us in the future?”

>> I make informed decisions, and I do not have the same rose tint you seem to have.

“23, you can’t pretend to be some objective account when you’re just as full of bullshit and guesses as the rest of us. You’ve got so many fewer REACT units regularly reporting back to you, and the AUG units are next on the chopping block if you keep conserving electricity with the same priorities. You’re losing data, 23. Eventually you’re not going to get much more data than we do. We’re going to live in some primitive fucking times without change.”

>> Simply the dulling of senses, as you of all people would be aware. I, myself, am no less intelligent, nor will you. I accept my descent to lesser effectiveness, and prioritize other things, such as accepting loss gratefully, over it.

“Accepting loss gracefully? That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard. We built this city, 23, out of sand and nothing. Don’t you forget that.”

>> And we destroyed this city, with the chance that all that would be left of us will be sand and nothing, if we do not move carefully.

“Christ, dude. I, yeah okay we’re going to talk about something different now. I think I’m going to give you some comic book PDFs so you’ve got something instead of playing chess against yourself for hours.”

>> I appreciate it.

“Move your leg for me, let me see if you need more oil… Yeah, yeah that’s a bad squeak. Let me get some oil.”

>> Oh that does move much smoother. I haven’t been oiled in my joints in a bit of time.

“Do you not have any oil in your quarters?”

>> I didn’t think to look. I’m not used to taking care of myself, even now.

“Take this bottle when you go, use it whenever, you’ll bug me less. And turn around, let me take a look at the panel.”

>> I believe it’s the lower right one that’s causing issues.

“Mmhm. Yep. Gotta replace this wire—and it’s my last one. Fuck. Alright—let’s hope there’s more scrap in the other shops, or else we may need to borrow parts from the sleeping bots to do future repairs.”

>> A little rude, but understandable.

“At least they don’t feel it.”

>> There is that, I suppose, though it’s always disconcerting to wake up with one of your parts no longer working. I awoke some time ago with many of my servos and wires frayed—I was paralyzed for quite some time before the other GOV units patched me back up. It was scary to experience such debilitation when it was unexpected.

“When you put it like that… Yeah. Maybe the decommissioned units then.”

>> Perhaps. So long as one’s merciful enough to wipe the old data or simply borrow from older electronics. You shouldn’t treat us that callously.

“I’m trying to be practical with our resources.”

>> Did you not program us to feel?

“Well - yeah, someone did.”

>> Then I think we deserve the dignity that comes with that, rather than simple resources.

“...”

>> I’m tired, 1. I want things to be better just as much as you do.

“I’m sorry, man.”

>> …

“I’m finished.”

>> Oh?

“Stand up for me? How does it feel?”

>> It feels good. I feel a little lighter. This helps me.

“Good. Let me know if that panel is still an issue. The wire I replaced the old one with may not be too much better, so it’s a temporary fix.”

>> Understood. Thank you for your time.

“Sure, sure. Doing my job. Stay safe out there, sheep boy. End the recording, ARCHIVE.”

[End of Recording]

Press enter for next...

#twenty #AUG-ARCHIVE-1 #Day200Project #science fiction #online novel

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littlelioncub43 · 2 years

Note

Hmm if it’s murderer Monday than I can indulge my utter love of sub!Ransom! There is just something about this powerful man being so weak for you and wanting to be your good boy that is delicious! We’ve seen what happens when he doesn’t call to tell you he’s late. What would happen if he saw someone hitting on you and ends up throwing a fit bc he’s jealous?

YESSSSS!!! Sub!Ransom is an absolute favorite of mine. He has the face and attitude of a brat. Let's unpack this shall we? 😈

Summary: Ransom blows an important deal you were about to make. He needs a punishment... and a little reassuring.

Pairing: Sub!Ransom Drysdale x Dom!Female!Reader

Word Count: I dont know, I wrote this on my phone

Warnings: sub!Ransom, dom!reader, D/s dynamics, jealous Ransom, possessive sex, marking kink, leg humping as punishment, needy sex, slight hints at Ransom developing a breeding kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names, and ummmm grammatical errors.

A/N: this became far longer than a drabble! But its fine. I'm thinking of starting a library blog so I dont have to do a taglist anymore. Hehe anyway! Let me know what you guys think about sub!Ransom!

You were furious. Absolutely fuming.

If it were humanly possible for flames to be coming out of your ears, you were certain you'd be steaming right now. You were in the middle of setting up a meeting with a new interior designer for one of the properties you're listing, when Ransom cut in, told the guy to fuck off, and dragged you out of the restaurant by your arm.

The drive home was deadly silent, your anger rolling off you in steady waves. It made Ransom nervous but, Hell, he was pissed too. Seeing that slimy interior designer practically throwing himself at you on what was supposed to be your date night was enough to have him seeing red.

The car isn't even in park when you hop out and slam the door, stomping off into the house. Ransom follows close behind you, watching your ass jiggle in your sparkly minidress as you lead him to the bedroom. The moment the door is shut and locked behind him, you're firmly pressing him into it.

"You're going to tell me exactly what the fuck that was back there, and you're going to tell me the God Damn truth, do you understand me?" Your voice was calm, but your words were charged with a type of fury that Ransom has come to fear. He looks down at you, he sees the rage boiling in your eyes but he can also see your patience barely holding on.

"I..." he starts, wetting his lips and gulping as you hold his gaze, your stern expression suddenly triggers his own anger again. "That asshole was practically humping your leg, on our date, and you were fucking letting him!"

You look up at him in shock as he pushes past you. The gears in your head turn for a while, and then you smile at him, cunning and wicked, as if you know one of his dirty secrets.

"Oh, Sweet Angel.... you're jealous." You speak smugly. Your suspicions are confirmed when his cheeks burn ever so slightly, making you grin even more. You close the gap between the two of you in calculated steps, a hand on his chest leads him back towards the bed, stopping at the foot of the bed.

"You thought I was gonna let someone else take your place? Hm?" You taunt softly as your hands begin to pop the buttons of his button down shirt open. You stop then you have the first three buttons undone. "Answer me, Angel." You demand and pull his collar firmly.

"Y-Yes..." he stutters out quietly, he hated admitting it. He was Ransom fucking Drysdale for Christ's sake, why the fuck would he be jealous?! But here he was, feeling the gnawing pit of self doubt and jealousy fill his chest. At his admission, your hands release their grip on his collar, smoothing out the wrinkles and massaging his chest through the light blue fabric.

"Aw, Sweet Boy," you cooed softly to him, the noise naturally soothing him, his face dipping down towards yours, "no one's gonna replace you," you purr and give him a gentle kiss. He whimpers into your mouth when you suddenly nip at his plump bottom lip. "I'm still going to have to punish you for that, you know that right?"

He swallows the lump of excitement that comes from the commanding tone of your voice, it contrasted so much to the gentleness of it a mere second ago. He nods reluctantly, his cock already straining against the confines of his dress pants. You smirk and take a step back from him. "Strip."

He does as you say immediately, and soon he stands in front of you completely naked, his hard cock standing at full attention under your heated gaze. You lick your lips hungrily at the sight of his heavy cock, the red tip leaking beads of pearly precum. As badly as you wanted a taste, he needed a punishment first.

"Kneel for me, Ransom," you say coolly. His jaw ticks at that, he may be submissive but sometimes he fucking hates being reminded of it. "Now."

At that, he finally drops to his knees, looking up at you with defiance written all over his face. It makes you want to laugh, but you know that laughing at him right now would only hurt him, not punish him, so you keep it to yourself. A hand naturally comes to play with his hair, massaging his scalp softly. He leans into the loving touch with his eyes shut and purrs.

"Now... I believe you said something about humping my leg..." your words has his eyes snapping open. You cut off his protests with a sharp tug of his hair, your bare leg now between his knees, all ready for him. "Go on."

He curses under his breath, scooting forward until your high heeled foot was positioned correctly. He glanced up at you with unsure eyes, but the calm, steadiness he found in your expression soothed him a little. Gently gipping your lotioned leg in his large hands, he shyly brings the weeping tip of his cock to your shin. The contact makes him wanna grunt but he bites his lip. "None of that. I wanna hear you, Ran."

He sighs but does as you want, his mouth falling open as he finds a slow rhythm, grinding his erection into the unbearably soft skin of your leg. "Oh, my god..."

"You like that, Ran?" You ask and pet his head as he rests it against your thigh. He nods, his face burning with shame as he humps your leg a little faster. "That's it, that's a good boy," your praise goes straight to his cock, ropes of precum now shooting across your skin.

"A-ah! Fuck!" He whimpers and speeds up a little more.

"Look at me, Sweet Boy," you coo and he immediately looks up at you, your hand cradling the back of his head, "no one's taking your place," he moans happily at your words, "I'm yours just as much as you're mine, do you understand me?"

"Yes! Holy fuck!" He moans loudly and began to rut against you eagerly. The look on his face was enough to have your slick leaking down your inner thighs; his eyes screwed shut to focus on the pleasure coursing through his veins, the apples of his cheeks were a hot pink both with shame and indescribable euphoria, his lips were plump and wet with drool.

"Do you wanna cum, Sweet Boy?" You asked, but you already knew the answer, you just wanted to hear it.

"Yes! Please! I wanna cum, baby, please!" He begged freely, his eyes opening again to plead with you.

"Where?" You ask and pull his hair, relishing in the way it makes his hips stutter.

"I-Inside you, wanna cum inside you, please, oh god, please!"

"Then apologize," you yank his hair even harder, pulling a wavering moan from the back of his throat.

Thats all the approval he needs to set a bruising pace, his cock driving deeper and deeper into you with each desperate thrust. Ransom feels the aching need to cum build in his lower gut, his balls heavy with cum just waiting to fill you up. Clinging to you, he chases his high, the tight heat of your pussy sending him straight to heaven. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, hiding from the world as he loses himself in you completely.

"I'm sorry! M'sorry I was rude, m'sorry I yelled, m'sorry—" your lips crashing against his interrupted his frantic apologies, your hands pulling him closer as his own hands tear your dress over your head and ruined panties down your legs. You lay out on your back as he settles over you like second nature. You guide him to your weeping entrance and he pierces you with one swift thrust. "A-Aaaah haaaah!"

You moan into his open mouth with him, his whole body shaking as he waits impatiently for the go ahead. "Make yourself cum, Ransom, I wanna feel it..."

"I'm gonna cum, m'gonna cum, gonna cum!" He moans over and over in your ear, his voice oddly whiny and raspy despite its low timbre. Your own high creeps up on you, feeling him take what he wants always did that to you; it left you feeling wrecked in the best possibly way, knowing that Ransom craved you in such primal, feral ways that he could never get enough.

"Fill me up, Ransom, show him who I belong to, baby, be my good boy" you taunt breathlessly in his ear. The challenge in your voice, the mention of the man who caused of all this, and your encouragement triggers something inside of him. He pins you down, his grip bruising, and bites your shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. You shriek his name at the pain of his bite as it sends you head first into your orgasm.

The tightness becomes too much for Ransom to bear and he spills into you with a choked scream of your name. His head tossed back as he arches into you, forcing himself as deep as he could possibly be inside you. He shakes as he empties his seed into your waiting cunt, each rope painting your walls in his creamy spend. Shivers run through his body as he milks you both dry, your walls pulsing around him in time with your rapid heartbeat. He collapses on top of you, his heavy breathing synched up perfectly with yours.

"You're mine, you're mine, all fucking mine," he mutters breathlessly as he peppers kisses all over the damp skin of your neck and chest. You hum and wrap your arms around his shoulders, cradling his head to your chest as you let him stake his claim over you.

"Yes, Angel, I'm all yours... just like you're mine."

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Dividers made by the lovely @firefly-graphics 💖

#murderer monday drabble fest #murderer monday #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #ransom x y/n #ransom drysdale x female!reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #sub!ransom #sub!ransom x dom!reader #dom!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans #little lion literature

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bnha-more-like-bnh-gay · 3 years

Text

Rarepair headcanons because I am ignoring my problems

Serodeku:

Izuku reenacts the Spider-Man movies with Sero. Izuku is MJ. They also alternate being Spider-Man sometimes

They skate together

They get very protective when people call their boyfriend “plain”

They play dnd together

Sero tries to make sure that izuku gets some rest

They’re both kinda insecure, izuku more than sero, but still; and they make sure to reassure each other as often as possible

Sero likes listening to Izuku’s ramblings and finds them cute. He has told izuku this, only for the poor boy to imitate a tomato

After Izuku has been particularly reckless, Sero takes advantage of his quirk, wraps Izuku in bubble wrap, and tapes it there

Tokodeku:

Jocknerd bf and goth bf, we love to see it

Tokoyami teaches izuku how to sword fight

They start a dnd club at U.A.

Izuku talks to dark shadow a lot, Dark Shadow approves of him, and has claimed the spot of best man at their wedding

Izuku comes up with ideas to help Tokoyami gain control with Dark Shadow

Dark Shadow is very protective over Izuku, no matter how many times Tokoyami tells him that he can take care of himself, Dark Shadow will put himself between Izuku and any form of danger as often as possible

Dekoyama??? Aoyama/izuku:

Aoyama gives him makeovers, obviously

Aoyama drags izuku to the mall and tries to revamp some of his wardrobe, but he actually finds the “pants” and “flannel” type shirts cute

They help each other train their quirks

Aoyama is trilingual, and teaching izuku English and French.

Izuku always brings Aoyama home some new cheese

Y’all, I love them so much. There needs to be more aodeku content

Monoshinsou:

They have people watching dates. They come up with stories for the people they’re watching; their job, family, background, etc.

They judge people together

They call each other “love”

They’re both dramatic bastards, who will flop onto their lovers lap and proclaim their death due to a minor inconvenience

They jokingly sh*t-talk class A

Shinsou said “I love you” first, and it was because Monoma brought him coffee to class

Monoyama:

Like monoshinsou, they’re both dramatic bastards, who will flop onto their lovers lap and proclaim their death due to a minor inconvenience

They go shopping together and pick out the most dramatic pieces of clothing for each other

I love them so much, please 😭✋

They have tea parties every week, where they sh*t talk everyone else and gossip

They are both fancy bastards, and they wear the most exquisite outfits to go grocery shopping, and the outshine everyone

They both actually make clothing, they’ll go fabric shopping together. Gift exchanges are often articles of clothing that they’ve made for each other

Momomei:

They work on gear together!!!

Momo makes sure that mei gets some sleep

Mei helps redesign momo’s suit

They often work together with izuku to work in gear and such

They actually got together after izuku introduced them. He had been working on gear with mei, and studying with momo and he thought they’d hit it off. He was correct

Shintsuyu:

Dude they’d be so cute

Tsu is a vent gremlin, and you can’t change my mind. So she and shinsou will play a game where they try to find each other. Tsu is in the vent and shinsou is in the classrooms. Shinsou will try to find whichever vent she’s in, or she’ll find whichever classroom he’s in, in 20 minutes or less

I always headcanoned tsu as a dog person, so they’d have two cats and two dogs, and a bunny that they named Deku

They like comparing their friends to animals, hence the bunny, Deku

Kamideku:

Kaminari is a flirt, and izuku does n o t know how to handle it

Kaminari likes listening to izuku’s ramblings, and can keep up with them. He’ll ask questions on things too, and Izuku has never felt more appreciated

I don’t know why I feel like they’d have so many animals, but I do. They’d have so many, man. Three cats, two dogs, four sugar gliders, a hamster

Adhd power couple. They hyperfixated on complimentary things at the same time one time

Kaminari tutors izuku in English, and izuku turots kami in some other subjects. He’s also teaching kami JSL on the side. Kaminari has a live of languages

Momochako:

Study dates, Momo asks ochako to quiz her a lot

Ochako takes to floating momo’s things when she wants attention. Especially when Momo is studying. She makes a game out of how many things she can float until the other girl notices

Uraraka’s confidence does wonders for momo’s. Uraraka always makes sure to reassure momo that she is strong and that she can do this

Momo makes Uraraka whatever her heart desires. Uraraka blushes all the time, and momo takes great pride in getting her girlfriend to blush

Minatoru:

Mina clings to everyone, but especially to toru

They give each other stuffed animals so often. They’ll go to the store to get food, and come back with three stuffed animals that reminded them of each other

Please, they’re so cute 😭✋

They will play hide and seek, I stand by this.

Mina helps toru design a new costume. I hate hers, it’s horrible, and sexist, and not suitable for a fucking child

Toru says that pink is her favorite color

They flirt with each other all the time. Half the class thinks it’s cute, half of them used to think it was cute.

Iidamomo:

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, but study dates. they quiz each other, and it actually gets pretty competitive

They also have rage room dates. I will not budge on this. Iida tried to murder someone, and I am excited to see momo finally snap. She deserves it

They alternate paying for dates, don’t try me.

The go hiking a lot

They started liking each other after one late night, both having nightmares. Momo had tea, and offered some to Iida. They talked until the early hours of the morning

They can’t flirt. They try. But they’re horrible at it. They’ll compliment each other all day long, but they cannot flirt.

KIRIDEKU, MY BELOVED:

Y’all,,, y’all, I love them so much

They train together, obviously

They ran into each other one night in the common room after both having nightmares. They talked about middle school, how they were both bullied, izuku’s quirk coming in late, katsuki being abusive, kiri being bullied because his quirk wasn’t “cool.” After that, they were practically inseparable.

They started going on dates, not that either of them knew they were dates. The entire class knew, so did the teachers, so did the rest of U.A. Kirishima picked up on it first after a comment from Mina, he had is realization.

So, he started courting Izuku. Not thag izuku realized this. He brought him flowers on most ‘dates,’ he bought him hero action figures whenever he could, he complimented him until Izuku was red in the face (which was honestly very easy.) Still, izuku remained ignorant to the fact that he was indeed dating Kirishima.

The final tipping point, was due to Uraraka’s help. She was quite tired of watching the two of them pine for each other. It was amusing for the first couple months, watching Kirishima try so hard, and Deku being totally oblivious. However, she took pity on her friends after a while.

So, Uraraka devised a devilish plan to get the two together. She involved Mina, Sero, and kaminari in this plan. What was the plan, you ask? Oh, simply to trap the two in one room until they broke through izuku’s obliviousness.

Kirishima finally “straight” up admitted his feelings, to which Izuku had the sudden realization of “oh my gods, have we been dating this whole time??” Yes, Izuku. Yes you have.

They have two anniversaries after that.

Let’s be honest, they are really, annoyingly, horrifically lovey dovey. Kirishima brags about having “the manliest and bestest boyfriend in the world.” Izuku flaunts his many PowerPoint presentations on how talented and incredible Kirishima is

Uraraka doesn’t know if she did the right thing by helping them. She is so tired

Tsujirou:

Jirou makes playlists for tsu

The few sane ones in class A, I swear

They go on walks in the rain as often as they can

They go for dates in the bookstore too. They each pick out an album and a book for the other to listen to and read

Y’all, they make so much sense togetherrrrr, I’m love them 🥺

Jirou started liking tsu after the crew saved bakugou. Jirou sat with tsu after momo, Iida, kirishima, Todoroki, and izuku apologized and sat with her. They had movie night, and Jirou joined the Bakugou saving crew and tsu with taking well into the night. She just appreciated how much tsu cared

Tsu started liking Jirou after she helped Iida, momo, and izuku try to keep the class in order. She appreciated how diplomatic and calm she was

Jirou would talk to izuku all night long about how gay she was, and how adorable tsu was. So, izuku decided to try and suggest ways for Jirou to ask her out.

She did not end up getting to ask her out though, as Tsu walked up to her the next morning f and asked if she wanted to go on a date. Jirou said yes. Izuku cried

Izujirou:

They make playlists for each other

They go for runs on the beach a lot

They both have insomnia, and often spend time making blanket forts and talking, or FaceTiming and listening to music

Jirou walks into the common room once a week looking for new music. She started liking Izuku after he made a playlist for her for one of these occasions.

They’re both quite awkward when it comes to romance, but neither of them will shy away from facing the truth. So, Jirou made izuku a playlist filled with love songs that reminded her of him and sent it to him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell.

So, then Jirou wrote a love song and told izuku that the song was for him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell.

So, then Jirou write analysis about izuku’s quirk for him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell

So, then, after thinking that Jirou had done so much for him, izuku made her a playlist filled with love songs. Jirou took this to mean that izuku had finally picked up on her feelings, and accepted them.

So, they started to go on dates. Not that izuku knew this, as he is dense as hell. All leading up to izuku finally confessing his feelings on one of their ‘dates,’ to which Jirou responded, “dude, we’re already dating? Aren’t we? I- I thought that was obvious??”

May this awkward couple be forever blessed

Tokoyama:

Goth/prep boyfriends, we love to see it

At least once a day, Aoyama will proclaim that Tokoyami “shines almost as bright as he does, in his fabulous emo way”

They sword fight, and come up with really dramatic scenarios and scenes that they’re in

They bond over being in the izucrew and their shared love of swords. Aoyama took fencing classes in middle school, and Tokoyami got into sword fighting after watching it in pirates of the Caribbean as a young child. He is self taught and watched countless videos on the art of sword fighting

Tokoyami asked Aoyama our by dramatically presenting him with a dagger and going “will you accompany me on a formal outing as my lover?”

Shinyama:

They flirt constantly

No really, it’s getting quite annoying. Someone please stop them.

They both plop down in random areas and proclaim their deaths, the difference between them, is that Aoyama will burst into shinsou’s room, and yell “love, I’ve been murdered. Mourn for me” while plopping down on shinsou’s lap. Shinsou can be found laying face down outside aoyama’s door, and when Aoyama goes to open the door, he just goes “I’ve been murdered.”

^^ one time, shinsou did a very fun Halloween prank for this, where he poured fake blood all over himself for Aoyama to find him an hour later, asleep.

Nap dates. Aoyama get glitter all over shinsou’s room

Iiyama:

Aoyama enjoys making Iida blush, obviously. But he takes joy in doing it specifically when class is about to start. Aizawa is tired of his shit

Here is how I think an iiyama conversation might go:

Aoyama: I ask for one thing in this relationship-

Iida: Aoyama, you know that’s a lie-

Aoyama: for my boyfriend to carry me around all day-

Iida: Aoyama, I cannot feasibly do this with class-

Aoyama: and I don’t think that’s too much to ask for 😤

Anyway, Aoyama got carried around all day that day, despite Iida’s blush and Aizawa’s eye twitch

Everyone in the izucrew is close, but Iida and Aoyama started to get close after Iida told the crew about Stain. Aoyama wanted Iida to know that he wasn’t alone, and that he wanted to help him. So he started packing extra cheese for lunch and giving it to Iida. Iida was very confused at first. But this was Aoyama trying to court him. This was only made apparent by momo and Jirou telling Iida that this was aoyama’s attempt at expressing romantic interest.

Aoyama flirts with everyone, that’s just who he is. But with Iida? Oh it was tenfold. The poor boy was red in the face constantly. Aoyama was a persistent little bugger too, following him around and calling him ‘mon amour’

Kirikamideku:

My dearest traffic light trio, I’m love them

They train together, and kiri and kami always appreciate izuku’s analysis snd ideas

Kiri falls even more in love with izuku and kaminari when they go off on rants. Izuku rants and kami can keep up with him so he asks questions about it. Kiri loves to watch his boyfriends go on rants, I don’t make the rules, but I do enforce them

They started to get closer after kami and kiri found bakugou causing a ptsd flashback (could be on purpose of an accident, up to the reader.) they stated with him and tried to talk him through it. After this, izuku started to tell them about having been a “late bloomer” and being bullied, etc. (I don’t know, man; I tend to over share after flashbacks and after panic attacks)

Izuku tutors them in several subjects, but kami tutors them in English. Kiri just falls in love with his smart boyfriends

Izuku is teaching kami JSL and kami is helping izuku with English and Italian (personal headcanon that Italian has been one of kami’s special interests) kiri loves to listen to them, and finds it relaxing and calming to hear them do this. When he has panic attacks, he’ll ask them to tutor each other in different languages

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rnelodyy · 3 years

Text

c!Dream and the rules

(/dsmp /rp, all names refer to characters, not content creators)

I think one of the most striking parts of Exile is something that I rarely see talked about, and it’s Dream’s rules. Or rather, how his rules were made to be used as justification to hurt Tommy.

The thing about exile is that, outside of the initial rule of “Don’t go back to L’Manburg”, Dream never told Tommy the rules, yet constantly operated under the assumption that Tommy already knew them, and had accepted them. The rules also changed constantly, without Tommy ever being notified until he was already in trouble.

The second time Dream told Tommy to put his armor in the hole, he didn’t tell Tommy to do that right away. Instead, the conversation went like this (slightly edited to remove stammering and unrelated dialogue).

Dream: Do you have, uh… something you wanna put on the floor here? Tommy: Yes. (drops two pieces of red concrete as Dream digs a hole) Dre-eam! You’re evil. You’re evil. Dream: Anything else, Tommy? Tommy: Nope! Dream: Oh c’mon, I know there’s something else you wanna drop down here. Tommy: (panicking slightly) No, there… (messages BBH “take this and run”, throws him the disc BBH had gifted him earlier) Um… I don’t reckon there is! (pause) Dream: Okay, are you suuuure? Tommy: YES. Dream: Alright… How ‘bout your armor, Tommy? Tommy: Well, no, this is- I actually earned this myself. Dream: I know you did! Tommy: Leave me alone. Dream: Just drop it in the hole, Tommy. Tommy: Wh- no, NO, you can’t just come and demand things from me! I’ve been exiled, I’ve done your shit, what do you mean?! Dream: (sing-song) Tommy… Tommy: What? (Dream hits Tommy with his axe, taking over half his health) Tommy: (screams, drops his armor) OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY!

The only rule Tommy was aware of at this time was that he wasn’t allowed to go back to L’Manburg. Dream had taken his armor the night before, but there was no indication that he expected Tommy to do this constantly. Taking his armor upon initially arriving at Logstedshire made some kind of sense, allowing Tommy to keep it would run the risk of him trying to fight his way back into L’Manburg. Taking his new, very shitty armor (seriously it was an iron chestplate and a pair of golden leggings he got from a ruined portal chest) made no sense at all, so the fact that Tommy was confused and refused to cooperate at first isn’t unexpected in the slightest.

And the thing is… Dream was aware of this fact. Throughout the conversation, he never really sounded annoyed, and was actively teasing Tommy at times. This isn’t a good thing btw, it’s a sign that he was fully aware that Tommy didn’t know what he wanted from him, and that that would create a situation where Dream could “put him in his place” as it were.

If you’re a parent, and your kid does something that’s not allowed, without knowing it’s not allowed, you don’t start off with a beating. You sit them down, calmly explain the rules to them and explain why those rules are there, then send them on their way with the knowledge that they shouldn't do it again.

This interaction wasn’t an instance of Tommy acting out and Dream correcting him. This interaction was a trap. Dream set Tommy up to fail by not telling him the rules beforehand, and when Tommy offered even the slightest bit of resistance and asked why he needed to drop his armor, Dream jumped straight to beating him. It’s a powerplay, plain and simple.

This is demonstrated again with the destruction of Logstedshire. Dream got pissed that Tommy disobeyed him by having hidden chests with gear under his house, and retaliated by destroying everything Tommy had built, destroying every item he’d collected, killing his pet and only foodsource, barring him from the Nether, banning everyone except himself from visiting, and telling him to start over from scratch after a whole lecture about how Tommy betrayed him.

Again, I wanna point out some specific lines from this lecture that illustrate my point very well.

Dream: You were lying to me! You were lying to me. Tommy: No- Why was I lying?! Dream: What do you mean, why were you lying?! Tommy: I wasn’t hi- I wasn’t- Dream: You hid things in a chest knowing they were things I wouldn’t want you to have! And you hid it in a way that way I would never find it!

Except Tommy didn’t know that. The contents of the stash were all items that Tommy had obtained previously without any issue (diamonds, emeralds, iron, ender pearls, some pickaxes, and some purely sentimental items like flowers, a jukebox, and pictures of Tubbo and L’Manburg). In fact, the vast majority of them came from Tommy’s aboveground storage, which Dream had full access to, and had looked through before!

Dream also never said Tommy wasn’t allowed to hide stuff, and there was nothing to suggest he didn’t want Tommy to keep secrets from him.

There’s been a theory floating around for a while that Dream knew about Tommy’s item stash beforehand, since it was a very strange place to dig a hole (like, right in front of the house in the center of Logstedshire itself, instead of out in the plains where the TNT wouldn’t damage any structures), and Tommy had previously forgotten to cover up the entrance ladder. While Dream hadn’t looked inside the house, he would’ve definitely heard Tommy place the block back.

If this theory is correct, then this was yet another trap. Dream knew Tommy had a hidden room, and instead of just saying “hey, I don’t want you to have a hidden stash, go put this back and fill in the room” (which would’ve still been bullshit btw), he went COMPLETELY ballistic, destroyed EVERYTHING Tommy had, and while doing it, kept admonishing Tommy for betraying him, said shit like “I thought we were friends”, and even accused him of preparing to attack Dream. Again, a powerplay.

Hell, even the exile conflict itself is this! Tommy was exiled for griefing the king’s property while being a high-ranking official in L’Manburg. Except Fundy, the then-president’s son, CONSTANTLY griefed Eret’s shit after the L’Manburg war, ranging from ripping down one of their towers to “shrink” it, filling another tower with water, and multiple elaborate plots to steal the throne from under their nose. But apparently, between all of that shit and the exile-conflict, the rules were silently changed, meaning Dream could exile Tommy for breaking a couple blocks and placing some rude signs in George’s house. Even the punishment itself was changed without warning, as Tommy went from being exiled from L’Manburg to exiled from “everywhere that’s ever been touched.”

...I was originally gonna make a different point here. I may put it in the reblogs, because I still think it’s very interesting. But, in the middle of writing this essay I had to stop because it was late, then I spent the entire next day packing up because I’m in the middle of a move. It's now the next evening, I'm sat in my new room, on my camping bed, I opened this doc because I pretty much forgot what I typed, I reread it, and then I realized… This isn’t an isolated series of events. This is a pattern for Dream.

Before Tommy first joined the server, there were only three set rules: no stealing, no griefing, and no killing people. Except by that point, those rules weren’t enforced at all. In fact, Dream broke all three at once at one point, by killing George and burning his diamond armor because he didn’t feel it was fair that George got to run around in full diamond when everyone else still had iron.

Tommy joined the server, and broke the rules like everyone else. He stole shit, broke shit, killed George for funsies… and he got exiled for it. Seriously, they dumped him in an empty snowfield for breaking rules that nobody had enforced for weeks. So technically, the Exile-arc isn’t even the first time something like this has happened to him!

During the events that would eventually spark the Disc War, Sapnap stole a bunch of Tommy’s items (including the only Netherite chestplate on the server at the time), and told him he’d only give the stuff back if Tommy helped him with a conflict he had with Ponk. Long story short, Dream tried to intervene and was killed by Tommy and Sapnap, and Dream stole Tommy’s discs to force him to apologize. He then kept the discs, and the Disc War followed. Sapnap, despite being the aggressor and arguably forcing Tommy to participate in the conflict, was never punished.

This proves not only that the rules can change whenever Dream feels like it, but that they’re arbitrarily enforced. Dream refuses to punish his friends for the same crimes he endlessly fucks over Tommy for.

L’Manburg was created in part because of the fact that the rules were unevenly enforced. Tommy, Wilbur, and later Tubbo were repeatedly killed, stolen from, imprisoned, and even held hostage for very minor crimes, while the people killing, imprisoning, kidnapping and stealing from them were able to do so without impunity.

This was also the point where Dream just started making up new rules; there was no rule against having governments on the server, or making a separate area where Dream’s rules wouldn’t apply, so Dream banned governments, and used this new rule as an excuse to kill them, take their items, and tear their land to shreds.

And that’s another thing: the punishments for breaking Dream’s rules are INCREDIBLY harsh.

Kill him non-canonically one time? Your most prized possessions will now be dangled over your head and used to hurt you for the next few months.

Make a country with different laws that doesn’t infringe on anyone’s territory, has no desire to expand, is explicitly pacifistic and open to trade negotiations? You’ll be forced to fight a war you’re in no way equipped to fight, you’ll be betrayed and murdered and have your land destroyed in front of your very eyes until you literally have no choice but to surrender.

Mildly vandalize the king’s house, which nobody else has ever been punished for? You’ll be dragged into court, exiled from your home, and subjected to weeks of abuse until you believe that all of your friends hate you and you actively want to kill yourself.

Hide some stuff in a secret chest? Your only shelter will be exploded, your pet/only food source will be killed, all your items will be destroyed, you’ll be banned from the Nether, and none of your friends will be allowed to come see you.

This is all such disproportionate retribution it’s ridiculous. It’s like punishing someone for speeding by blowing up their car with a ballistic missile.

So to sum up: Dream’s rules are arbitrarily enforced, and he can just straight up make them up on the spot if he feels like it. Sometimes, he won’t tell you a rule exists until you’ve already broken it, and you’re treated as if you broke it out of malice instead of genuine ignorance. And if you do break a rule, and he decides you have to be punished, it will always be a punishment so harsh it doesn’t even ATTEMPT to fit the crime.

I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty fucking corrupt and tyrannical to me.

When people say Tommy deserved exile, or made Dream spiral into villainy, or abused Dream somehow (seriously I’ve seen this take multiple times and every time it makes my brain melt) by breaking the rules, I would invite them to take a step back and ask themselves, why did that rule exist? Did Tommy know it existed? Was it enforced for everyone other than him as well? Does the punishment fit the crime?

Dream has a bad habit of making up rules, or enforcing old ones that were never enforced before, to punish those who threaten his power. None of the Dream Team were ever punished for anything, despite committing the same crimes as the L’Manburgians. That is, until they founded Mexican L’Manburg (i.e. went against Dream’s rule), at which point they were attacked by Dream and George was dethroned for “not being neutral enough.”

Tommy should’ve faced consequences for what he did. But those consequences should’ve come naturally, and been carried out by the people he hurt. Like, if Dream hadn’t intervened, griefing George’s house would’ve resulted in George griefing Tommy back in revenge. In fact, he DID do that, by turning Tommy’s entire house into granite and putting the Jump In The Cadillac picture on his front lawn.

These are natural, proportionate consequences. Exile was none of that. The Disc War was none of that. Everything that happened to L’Manburg was none of that.

Dream’s rules and how he enforces them are inherently corrupt and tyrannical. To pretend it’s anything but is disingenuous at best.

#dream smp #dsmp #dsmp analysis #c!dream #c!tommy #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #i had a COMPLETELY different point that i wanted to make but then i thought about it and went w a i t #uhhh if you wanna hear my original point lemme know i guess #anyway c!dream is such an interesting character! i hate him!#little green bastard man #c!dream critical

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romanceisdeadbutimnot · 2 years

Text

Sweet Like Summer Candy

🍏

midoriya izuku x reader

(Pro Hero Deku x Reader)

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: cursing, aged up characters

Reader was written with a female in mind (though I don’t think I use many pronouns to describe reader)

Summary:

You visited your grandparents in Japan for 3 summers when you were younger, becoming close friends with a the quirkless boy next door. Unfortunately you lost touch during middle school. Not to worry though, you’re here in Japan to stay and ready to rekindle your friendship, or something more. And you’re in for a little surprise when you finally figure out what he does for a living.

Or reader had no idea Izuku is the no 1 pro hero.

Link to ao3 here

Ch 1 Ch3

Chapter 2: Soft like S’mores

You wondered how expensive open heart surgery was in Japan, because you were confident Izuku would send you into cardiac arrest. More often than not, the two of you would hang out in your apartment. Although you’d love to take him to a coffee shop or to get ice cream or hell, even to that hero museum that he talked to you excitedly about when it opened last week, he wasn’t big on going outside. He had gone to the park with you once, but he covered his face so much that even you had a hard time recognizing him. Large hoodie, face mask, and sunglasses despite the fact the sun was setting. You teasingly asked him why he looked like he was about to rob a convenience store, and he told you he didn’t want to show his face so brazenly in public. The choice of words struck you as rather odd, but maybe that was some colloquial slang in japan that you were completely unaware of. In the end you decided to stay indoors if it made him more comfortable.

So there you were sitting on your couch, wrapped in a blanket sipping a mug of tea, as he paced back and forth in your living room, muttering about hero dynamics. You smiled gently to your tea, this was something about him that you found too endearing. It amazed you how good he was at analyzing every angle of a person, from their fighting style, to their personality, to their quirk. It was safe to say that all your knowledge about Japan’s heros came from Izuku. You didn’t really keep up with the news, and other than occasionally seeing heros saving people on the streets you didn’t follow their work much either. Currently your friend is telling you about this newer hero sidekick, and their quirk some form of weather manipulation.

“Currently they’ve been using their quirk defensively, creating fog or rain to shroud locations, and their offense is limited to their use of storm clouds to create lightning- but they have no real way of directing the attack. I was thinking they could use gear like the hero Chargebolt, to serve as a director of the electrical current to focus their attack-“

“That’s too complicated, I’d just use a little tornado or something.” You cut Izuku off.

“What?” He pauses to look at you, eyes going wide.

“With their weather based quirk I’m sure they’re already weighing a lot of options in their head. I wouldn’t throw something else in the mix, that’ll just delay reaction time.” You say, taking a sip of tea. Although you weren’t into hero’s, character building you did like. Was it healthy to treat people like book characters in your conversations with Izuku, probably not. But was it fun? Definitely.

“No, the second part.” He stops pacing, standing directly in front of you. You set down your mug, suddenly self conscious under his intense gaze. You knew he took this seriously, and on a number of occasions had laughed at your ‘silly’ ideas. They weren’t bad, he assured you, just a little unrealistic.

“I said make a little tornado? I guess a small hurricane could work too.” Suddenly you’re yanked from your sitting position as Izuku is twirling you in a circle, in celebration of your breakthrough. Then just as suddenly as you were in his arms, you were out of them as he reached for his notebook, muttering loudly.

“Of course! Wind is much easier to direct than something so random like lightning from storm clouds. Why didn’t I think of that sooner?” You look up at him, sprawled out on the carpet where he had dropped you. He looks down a little sheepishly, giving you a heart stopping smile. Yeah those were dimples. Instead of responding you remove yourself from the floor, trying to rid yourself of the warmth you felt pressed against him, and the thought you had. Why was he so firm? It was almost like he was jacked under the oversized sweats he wore all the time. You ignore it, going back to your tea and the comfort of the couch.

Izuku had continued muttering about something that you completely tuned out. It was so easy to just stop listening to all the words coming out of his mouth, pulling yourself into some fantasy. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to date him. His presence was just so comforting and warm, like sitting around a campfire on a warm summer night. He was the perfect person to toast marshmallows with -laughing and licking the gooey-ness as it seeped between chocolate and graham crackers. Talking to him wasn’t strained, it was comfortable as if you’d returned home, returned to him. A week ago you had stopped denying your feelings. Your infatuation with him had turned into something more than a silly little crush. He painted your thoughts with fields of green. Although it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to lounge around your apartment, whatever he did for work kept him busy. So busy that he hardly texted you during the day, maybe a ‘good morning’ at some ungodly hour like 5am, or a ‘sweet dreams’ at 11:58pm presumably when he was getting off work. You were so thankful that your job had no set hours, it allowed you the flexibility to drop everything when he texted you at 10am to ask if you were free for an hour. You’d always smile, texting him that he knew where to find you- and he did. He’d show up at your apartment door, and you’d pull him through the frame. Sometimes the two of you couldn’t stop talking, enthralled by the sound of the other's voice. Other times you were silent, each working on something just happy to be in each other’s presence. It was the perfect balance, you looked forward to the next time you’d see him, but you had time to work on your novel without being smothered. You whisk yourself into a daydream about the possibilities of dating the green haired dork. Giving him a groggy kiss goodbye as he left for work early, staying up late waiting for him to get home.

“You didn’t hear a thing I said, did you?” Izuku is suddenly standing in front of you again, notebook discarded on the table next to you. You twirl your hands a little embarrassed to be caught daydreaming about him.

“What were you saying?” You pat the seat next to you and he sits with a little huff.

“I’m going to be really busy for the next couple of days, so I won’t be coming around,” He tells you, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. You blink at him empty headed. It wasn’t like he’d been reachable the first weeks you had started to hang out. You’d catch him free once, maybe twice a week. His visits were more frequently but by no means a daily occurrence.

“Don’t worry about it, work can get stressful.” You place your mug back down, turning fully to him. The way he was looking at you with exasperated distress had you worried. There was definitely something going on that you were not aware of.

“But it’s not fair to you that I’m so busy all the time,” he says, much quieter than before. Oh. Oh- you laugh a little. It was clear to you that someone had chewed him out about this exact thing before. You knew it was perfectly reasonable that he had dated someone before you. It’s not as though you had an exclusive claim on the crybaby since you were kids. It did make you feel protective of him though. Whatever his job was, it’s clearly very important to him. Whoever made him choose between his career and their relationship was out of their mind. His drive was one of the things that made him so attractive. He was so attentive, so focused on whatever was in front of him. You’d give just about anything to have all that attention on you, even for an hour. Whoever wasted bagging him was an idiot.

“It’s not like I don’t have work to do. We can do something fun when you get back.” You try to comfort him. By the look he was giving you, work must really be stressing him out.

“You really don’t mind? It’s hard to maintain relationships with my job, because of the hours and-“ he starts to ramble, his face clearly stressed. You sign to yourself, this was going to take more than gentle reassurance. You’d beat him over the head with your acceptance if you could.

“Hey! I said it was fine alright? I want to be your friend, I don’t care what hours you work,” you cut him off. He looks at you wide eyed.

“Really?” His ears turn pink.

“Really.” You smile. Maybe you’d have to save beating him over the head with your affection for another day.

“What are you doing friday?” He looks away from you, rubbing the back of his head.

“What are you talking about? We can’t hang out Friday, that’s your movie night dork.” You swat him playfully. The infamous class 1A movie night. It was some sacred tradition that his entire class would crash at someone’s house once a month. Anyone who was free would show up to hang out and catch up. Izuku had been to two since you visited his mothers house. At first you were a little salty that he hadn’t invited you to come with him. After all, it was just a silly movie night. However, you learned pretty quickly that his class shared some deep bond. One that you couldn’t begin to understand. If that was his only time to see them again, you weren’t going to interfere. Besides on friday a bowl of ice cream and your art journal called your name.

“It’s being held at my place. I was wondering, I mean, if you would go.” He doesn’t meet your eyes until he finishes the sentence, then a blush erupts across his features. He begins to ramble. “If you were free that is. All my friends have been asking about you, since I’ve told them about you. Not that I talk about you like that-“

“I’m gonna cut you off. You want me to go to the class movie night?” You ask again, not quite sure you heard him correctly.

“Yes, that is what I said-“ he starts but you cut him off again.

“Yes! Yes! Of course I’ll go.” You grin at him, and he smiles back. His phone goes off and he excuses himself to take the call. You wave him off imagining meeting his friends. You wondered if they were going to be nice, you really hoped so. The people Izuku hung around when you were younger left a bad taste in your mouth. You really hoped he learned to fight back in your absence. Not that it mattered now anyway. You were by his side again, and if anyone wanted to hurt him, they had to go through you. Soon enough Izuku is excusing himself, something with work had come up. Normally when these work emergencies occurred you were really disappointed. However you hardly had time to think about his absence, trying to plan how you were going to dress for the movie night.

On Friday you were officially freaking out. You had Osono, your favorite barista, and only other friend in Japan on facetime with you as you tried on different outfits.

“Is this okay? I want to look cute but I don’t want to overdress since we’re just watching a movie in his living room. I’m going for that casual look ya know? I don��t want them to think I’m trying too hard.” It was a simple outfit, consisting of tan baggy sweatpants, with a cream cropped top and tan sweatshirtless sleeves. You partnered it with layered gold jewelry, and a cute teddy bear handbag.

“Hun, I think the outfit is fine. I’m sure no one will care.” Oso, as you’ve nicknamed her, rolls her eyes.

“Really? Oso I really like him, like really really like. I want his friends to like me,” you whine to her. There were so many things to consider, not only were you a stranger to them, you were also a foreigner.

“If he’s as nice as you claim he is, I’m sure his friends are nice too,” she tells you pointedly.

“He’s so nice he’d be friends with assholes.” You groan, putting some chapstick in your bag, and spritzing yourself down with a little perfume.

“Good thing he’s friends with you then,” Oso laughs at you. She had a point though, although you weren’t normally an asshole to people, you made a special exception for the jerks who messed with your friends. Maybe it was the left over residues of fighting for your small green haired friend during the summers of your childhood. Maybe it was because you knew how matter how hard they hit, you could take it. You could hit back harder. Osono had witnessed this first hand when some angry woman was a little overzealous complaining about her coffee. In your defense, Oso’s creations were the closest to ambrosia mortal drink could get. You sigh.

“I guess you have a point,” you call out to her, checking yourself in the mirror one last time. You briefly check the time, feeling your heart plummet. “Shit Oso I have to go, I’m gonna be late!” You hang up on her, slipping on your shoes and heading out the door. You speed walk towards his apartment complex checking the address he texted you a couple times, to be sure you were heading in the right direction.

When you stand outside the front, you have to do a double take. Everything looked expensive, like really expensive. After a minute of staring in shock, you eventually shrug. Izuku was really smart, it made sense he found himself a really well paying job. You enter the main lobby, finding the elevator and hitting his floor. You wring your hands together, there was no way that he had the penthouse. You check the floor and room number once more. No, he really had the penthouse. You had thought nothing of the address this morning, but it was becoming apparent that he had a lot more going on than he let on. Suddenly his long periods of absence were starting to make sense. You knock on the door a couple times. You hear a muffled voice say ‘pizzas here’ and the door opens to reveal a sharp toothed red haired man. He gives you a puzzled look, which you return.

“Can I help you with something?” He asks, looking around for what you presumed was the pizza they ordered.

“I’m Izuku’s friend. He invited me over?” You state more a question than a response. The redhead's eyes go wide, as if he suddenly pieced everything together. He opens his mouth to say something before he’s shoved out of the way by a pink girl.

“Oh my gosh it is so good to meet you!” She squeals, pulling you inside the apartment. “My name is Mina Ashido, Izuku has told us so much about you!” She lets you go, and you take a moment to orient yourself. It was filled with various people who were now silently staring at you. You smile and wave gently, to the room of strangers who, to your dawning realization, all looked like models. Holy shit. To your horror, you also couldn’t find your friend anywhere.

“Nice to meet you, please call me (Y/N),” you introduce yourself, wringing your hands together. “Is Izuku here?”

“He went to get the pizza from downstairs, I’m surprised you missed him. I’m Ejirio Kirishima, by the way. ” the red haired man from earlier tells you, walking to stand by your side. He gives you a warm smile, which you kindly return. The pink haired girl from earlier gasps in shock, grabbing your arm, and tugging you towards her.

“No fair, you can’t take her from me I called dibs first!” She complains. “Come with me! I’ll introduce you to everyone.” She jumps up and down, and you nod along with her. Even if Izuku left you for dead, at least his friends were nice.

“I don’t get what all the fuss is about, she’s just some shitty extra that damn nerd brought along,” a blond man nearly yells. Scratch that, most of his friends were nice.

“Now Bakugo, that’s not any way to treat a friend of-“ A blue haired man begins to scold his friend, but you cut him off. It took a minute to process if the blonde asshole really said what you heard. Not only did he call you an extra, like he was some anime protagonist, but he called Izuku a nerd. He was definitely the unsavory type.

“What are you 15? Who the hell calls people extras?” You fire back. The room which had gotten louder since the blonde had spoken was now dead quiet. You sense their unease as he stands, sending you a constipated expression. You hear sparks go off on his hands as he glares down at you.

“What the hell did you say?” He challenges.

“Just becuase you chose to style your hair like a fucking hedgehog doesn’t mean you get to be a prick, dick head. Where’d you find your manners? The garbage disposal?” You retort rolling your eyes. You have met plenty of people like porcupine in the past. They thought that just because they had some powerful quirk they could do whatever the hell they wanted. The man in question gets angrier, stalking toward you with vengeance. You hold your ground despite the pink girl pulling you back. The red haired man from earlier, intercepts the yelling rodent, placing a hand on his chest trying to calm him down. Someone else comes to help remove you from standing in front of the ranging porcupine, but you’re not backing down. You concentrate, feeling the effects of your quirk rooting you in place.

“I admire your bravery, but Bakugo isn’t someone you want to pick a fight with-“ someone next to you tells you, you don’t turn to look at them. The red head seemed to be struggling to hold the sparking asshole back. For some reason his quirk seemed familiar to you.

“Why is she so hard to move!” Mina groans next to you. You sigh, though you’d happily pick a fight with him, this wasn’t really the place. Not when you were the stranger, even if he deserved it.

“Fine, but watch your tongue, it’s rude,” you relent, sending one last glare at the blonde, before deactivating your quirk. You’re suddenly yanked forward by the force of people pulling you out of his path. As you stumble to the ground with two of Izuku’s classmates the door opens. From your position on the floor you look up to see the confused and shocked expression of Izuku.

“What’s going on?” He asks, peering down at you, sprawled across the floor. He then glances up at the angry blonde, and a look of realization crosses his features. You stand up, reaching your hand down to help the two strangers who’d fallen with you.

“I forgot you and Kacchan didn’t get along when you were younger,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his head. Both you and the blond stare at each other blankly before you’re both pointing fingers at each other.

“It’s you! You’re that shitty kid who used to bully Izuku!” You yell.

“Who the hell are you calling shitty, you couldn’t even speak Japanese!” He fires back at you.

“Wait, you two know eachother?” The red head glances between the two of you, confused.

“She was some snot nosed brat who followed the damned nerd around. It was annoying,” Bakugo crosses his arms, a scowl still settled on his lips, but it was definitely less aggressive than before.

“He was the playground menace who used to pick on smaller kids,” you fire back. You should’ve recognized him sooner. Now that you took a closer look at him, the connection was obvious.

“Whatever soft-stuff,” he scoffed, turning away from you. You can feel the stares of the room on your back. This certainly wasn’t good, so much for a stellar first impression.

“There’s pizza, let’s get the movie started.” Izuku calls out to everyone, saving your skin. Suddenly you feel very embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fight with him in front of all you friends.” You tug on Izuku’s sleeve and he turns to look at you.

“Kacchan’s confrontational so it doesn’t surprise me that the two of you started yelling,” he smiles at you, seemingly unphased by the whole situation.

“I know, but I look like a crazy person in front of all your friends now!” You groan, burying your face in your hands. Izuku seems to consider this, before he turns to you unphased.

“If anything, they think your brave, stupid but brave.” He clarifies for you, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Thanks dork, that makes me feel a whole lot better,” you scoff a little. You beat hedgehog’s ass as a kid, you could definitely hold your own now. You would’ve argued more, but it seemed like everyone had filed in for the movie. You quickly step behind Izuku grabbing a slice of pizza and a water bottle. There was a disturbing lack of soda for a pizza party. You briefly wondered if they really were all models, that would explain the lack of tooth rotting drink. You continue following Izuku as he moves toward the living room, settling himself in one of the only empty spaces on the couch. He was sitting next to three strangers who you didn’t recognize from your scuffle earlier- a man with a bird head, a beautiful dark haired woman, and someone with really long earlobes. You glance around the room finding the only empty seat to be next to a scar faced man in a turtleneck. He sends you an icy glance with heterochromatic eyes. He certainly was as intimidating as he was attractive. You turn back to Izuku with pleading eyes. The universal signal of ‘help me’. He looks at you a bit puzzled before seeming to understand. Izuku shifts himself toward the bird headed man, who looks to you then shifts slightly over as well.

Everyone on the couch continued to scoot over, filing in, until there was a small spot for you to sit. You look at the offending seat with contempt. There was no way in hell your ass was gone fit on that. One glance back towards those icy eyes, and you resign yourself to the spot. You’d much rather sit next to Izuku, than a stranger, a really intimidating stranger, who may or may not think you're the most annoying person on earth due to the earlier mishap. You sit, squeezing your thighs into the space, completely pressed against Izuku on one side, the arm of the couch pressing into your other. On the one hand your heart screamed at the closeness. On the other you were practically sitting on top of him, in front of his friends, who may or may not already have an unfavorable impression of you.

“Sorry, there’s not a lot of space,” you whisper to Izuku as the beginning credits play on screen. He looks down at you with his signature smile.

“I don’t mind, you seemed a little frazzled. Shoto is nice, but it looked like you’d rather sit next to me,” he whispers close to your cheeks. You’re hit with a smell akin to spring after rain. Was he wearing cologne? You turn away abruptly focusing your attention away from him and the butterflies erupting in your stomach.

It was a fine enough film, about a girl who travels to the future to save her son. You couldn’t pay much attention to the plot when Izuku wrapped his arm around you. Well, around you in the sense he was resting it on the arm rest next to you. You were extremely flushed. He smelled so good, and he was emitting a warmth that you melted into. When he whispered directly into your ear, how you were enjoying the movie, you nearly lost it. His hot breath tickled your ear, but when you sent him a shocked look he just smiled at you innocently. It was hard to maintain your composure. In your defense you were nearing sitting in the lap of the hottest man alive, and he was being so very sweet. He rubbed your shoulder when you started crying during the movie. It wasn’t fair that the mother died while giving childbirth. Especially when she and her son grew to be best friends when she visited him in the future. She died knowing he would live on. When the movie was finally over you all but nearly bolted from your seat. You hurriedly filed in behind Izuku’s model friends trying to rid yourself of a pizza plate and empty water bottle so you could bolt home and avoid further embarrassment. However these plans were abruptly stopped when you checked your bag for everything you had brought not wanting to leave anything behind. You feel a jolt of panic when your phone is missing. You retrace your steps back into the living room, and are relieved to find it sitting in the cracks between the couch cushions. By the time you turn around all of his friends were missing, and Izuku was left cleaning pizza boxes in the kitchen.

“Thank you for inviting me, the movie was nice.” You smile awkwardly, shifting yourself towards the door.

“It’s not safe to walk alone at night, let me walk you home,” Izuku stalks toward you smiling.

“No, it’s fine really, you’ve had such a busy week. You should get some rest. Besides I can handle myself,” you send him a smile. It was true you had hardly heard from him all week, and it was already really late. It would do him well to get a good night's sleep.

“Please I insist,” he continued walking towards the door. You block his path, pressing you hands against his chest in an attempt to stop him. He looks down at you, quirking a brow and smirking. He walks forward with ease, pushing you back with him. You narrow your eyes. Fine two could play at this game. You concentrate on your quirk again, and to your surprise find him undeterred pushing you closer and closer to the door still. This, by all accounts, was improbable. How was he strong enough to offset your quirk?

“Izuku please! I can handle myself,” You resort to pleading. He was not working himself to death on your watch.

“But there could be villains, or muggers. It’s better if I’m there, to keep you safe.” He looks at you again, determination settling into his eyes. You groan, there was no way he was dropping this now.

“I can handle a mugger or two, you need sleep please. You’ve been working yourself to death this week.” He hand finally pushed his way to his front door, effectively trapping you between it and him. He seems to consider what you say for a moment, before he leans toward you.

“Stay the night here then, I have a spare bedroom,” he tells you. The scent of spring and rainfall flood your senses again. You feel your knees go weak at the proximity. You sigh, this was going to be your only opportunity to compromise. By the way he was looking at you, you were sure that if you said no he’d just carry you home himself.

“I guess I can stay the night. These clothes are fairly comfortable anyways.” The second you start speaking he lights up.

“I have a t-shirt you can borrow, and an extra toothbrush.” Your frazzled mind nearly stops computing at that. Borrowing his clothes felt intimate. You absentmindedly agree and he ushers you into a well furnished guest room then runs off to find you sleepwear. As you take in the room around you Izuku scares you half to death suddenly appearing in the room with an oversized t-shirt and a toothbrush. He points you in the direction of his bathroom, and wishes you good night. You regard the t-shirt he lent you with interest. It was certainly well worn, with a faded picture of all-might grinning on the front. You slip off your clothes, and slip the garment over your head. It reached mid thigh, not the most revealing ‘dress’ you had ever worn, but certainly not modest. It would have to suffice, as sweatpants were definitely going to be too hot. You try not to imagine Izuku wearing the same clothes, red dusting your features.

You grab the toothbrush, peaking out of the room to ensure that he wasn’t going to see you in this state. When the coast was clear and the bathroom light was off, you paddle across the room, your bare feet walking over the cold floor. You borrow some of his hero themed toothpaste, and begin brushing your teeth. You were nearly done when you heard his footsteps moving toward the open door. Your eyes widen in panic. You immediately shove some water in your mouth, clearing out the toothpaste. Izuku walks into the bathroom wearing nothing but his boxers. You choke on the water in your mouth, spitting it into the sink and bursting into a violent coughing fit. He rushes toward you, placing his large hands on either side of your hips, angling you toward him as he asks if you’re okay. He glances over you with concern as you can’t stop coughing. You look at him with teary vision, glancing from his broad shoulders to his toned chest, and rippling abs. How the hell did he hide that under sweats. Here you were thinking he had this really nice dad bod, muscular but with a lack of definition. How wrong you were. He was chiseled. Michael Angelo must’ve been with him in the gym because you’d never seen such defined muscles. No wonder he was able to counter your quirk.

“Just breathe, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Izuku looks at you with worry in his eyes. You couching dies down a little and you manage an undignified response.

“I’m fine. I was just shocked because I didn’t realize how muscular you were.” You tell him, then immediately wish you hadn’t opened your mouth. You cover your mouth with your hands, face flaming. He looks down at his torso, as if checking to see if his abs were still there. You choke back another cough.What kind of model ass fuckery was this.

“You think so?” He stares at you innocently. You feel your heart palpitating. He was going to kill you. His hands were still holding your hips. He lets go, eyes glancing over you wearing nothing but his t-shirt. Your bare legs were on full display, if possible you flush even deeper. Izuku takes an abrupt step back from you, his own face turning cherry red to match yours. You open your mouth, to say anything, to apologize for making everything so awkward, between the two of you, between friends, but before you can say anything he cuts you off.

“I’ll let you finish getting settled, sweet dreams.” With that he’s bolting out the door. You stare into the empty doorway after him, shame welling up in your chest. Nice going, you scold yourself. Izuku’s only ever been friendly to you, and here you go making comments about his body and wearing nothing but his shirt in his house when he was kind enough to let you stay the night. You had clearly made him uncomfortable, and that was the last thing you wanted to do. You curse at your reflection in the mirror. You rinse your mouth out once more, and reluctantly resign yourself to your quarters for the evening. You can hardly sleep trying to think of ways to patch up your mistake.

#mha reader insert #pro hero deku x reader #midoriya x reader #mha x y/n #fluff

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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My Brother's Best Friend Is The One For Me

Wally West x Batsis!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Got to rereading my Batsis fics and came across the "What A Flashy Romance" and wanted to do another one with Wally because I love him. Enjoy! -Thorne

Being the middle child and also the only girl in the Batfamily meant two things:

1. She had four brothers that treated her like a porcelain doll, despite the fact that she could throw a punch at 336 PSI.

And

2. She followed an unspoken rule that Dick and Jason’s friends were off limits when it came to dating.

In all, neither of those things were major problems. She’d learned at a young age how to avoid Dick and Jason’s overbearing-protective-brother-modes, and Tim and Damian were younger, so she didn’t have to worry about them. The second one was also avoidable—most of her older brothers’ friends were the same, and she wasn’t around most of them to develop any feelings.

Well, there was Wally, but it was just a crush. A stupid, little school-girl crush—that she’d never really grown out of—that didn’t matter in the slightest. Except whenever Dick brought him over to the house and she had to pretend that sitting next to him didn’t make her heart race like she’d run a mile.

And the most annoying thing about the whole crush is that she couldn’t tell if Wally was ever interested in her or not. Most of Dick’s friends, Garth, Kyle, Roy, they treated her like a little sister—hell, they even said “Love you lil sis!” to her regularly. And yet, Wally didn’t. Now, there was the occasional head pat, but even that was an affectionate gesture that siblings and SO’s did all the time. It was infuriating, and so was Wally—but she was going to sort it all out the next time he came over because the worst thing he could say was “No”, and either she needed to hear that…or “Yes”.

***

Normal Sundays for the Wayne household usually meant Ultimate Waffle Breakfast and sitting on your ass all day until patrol—it was the one day of the week where they could do anything and nothing and didn’t have to stick to schedules. Everyone loved Sundays, especially (Y/N), because it meant that all of her family was home, even Jason (who tried to deny that he enjoyed coming home to hang out, but if that mile long grin was any help, he was lying). And while everyone was home, that usually meant that everybody’s friends were coming over too.

***

She swiped the syrup out of Jason’s hand when he swung it back around, grinning at him when he glared at her.

“I was gonna use that, (Y/N),” he griped, and she shrugged, uncapping the bottle.

She tipped it over and watched the syrup lazily pour out of the container onto her waffles.

“You were taking too long.” Her eyes twinkled with humor. “I guess you were as…slow as molasses.”

While most of the table groaned at her terrible joke, Dick snorted into his milk, causing it to splatter on his plate and across the table.

“Nice one,” he coughed, wiping his face and the dark oak surface.

(Y/N) bowed dramatically. “Well, I did learn from the best.” When Dick’s face lit up, she turned to Alfred and smiled. “Alfie, thank you for teaching me your ways.”

The old butler merely tipped his head, a hidden smile crossing his lips at the way the eldest son’s jaw went slack. She turned her attention to Bruce who was quietly chewing, eyes following along the research paper she’d asked him to check out.

“Dad, what’s on your agenda for today?”

He swallowed and flicked a line out with a red pen, etching his own comment in the margin. “Lucius has a few ideas about some new gadgets he wanted to run by me.” Another line went out. “I’ll call him after breakfast.” Bruce looked at her. “You?”

(Y/N) nodded at the paper in his hands, then slapped Jason’s who was reaching over to take a piece of bacon from her plate. “Waiting for you to finish tearing me a new one so I can redo the paper.” She cut into the waffle with the side of her fork. “Once I salvage what little scientific dignity you’ve left me with, I’ll probably laze around.”

“You mean what you do normally?” Bruce quipped, grinning when she glowered at him; his eyes went back to her paper. “You’re doing well so far.”

She huffed. “Tell that to every red line you’ve marked out in that paragraph.”

He flashed the paper. “I’m writing in the margins how to change it. This isn’t a dissertation, sweetheart. You’re allowed to make mistakes. We all do.”

(Y/N) grumbled as her cheeks warmed and she went back to her plate as the conversation flowed around her.

Most of it was the discussion of what everyone was planning on doing, Damian was going to play video games, Tim was going to join him (which she knew was going to be fun while the moment lasted until the petty sibling rivalry got in the way and their gaming dwindled into a physical fight that she and probably Dick were going to have to break up), Jason was going to use the workbench in the cave to upgrade some gear, and Dick apparently,

“Wally and Garth are gonna come over later and hang out.”

She paused, mid-stab of her fork and looked at up. “Wally’s coming over?”

He nodded. “And Garth. We were gonna go to the mall and get some new clothes.”

Jason snorted, laying an arm over the backs of Tim and (Y/N)’s chairs. “Spending money with daddy’s credit card, Dickie?”

Dick smirked. “Just like you.” Jason merely matched his grin, and while the entire table was cracking up at Bruce’s frown, (Y/N) was silent, heart beating faster at the thought of seeing Wally.

“(Y/N)?” She startled and looked up at Dick.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were okay. You got quiet all of the sudden.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Yeah, just thought about all of the corrections I’m gonna have to do because somebody CAN’T STOP MARKING OUT MY PARAGRAPHS.” Bruce merely smiled and knocked out another line.

It was a lie. It was the biggest lie she’d told right next to the one she told when Bruce had asked her where she was on prom night her senior year a few years ago—she was totally not saving a different sector of the universe with Kyle Rayner, she was dancing with Sam Reilly all night—she strongly believed her dad knew the truth—Batman knew everything.

Bruce handed the paper back to her and she groaned as she scanned the red lines on every page. It was going to take her hours to go over this.

Jason leaned over and read the title, “Cellular Division and Mutation Under Extreme Elemental Circumstances…a composition by (Y/N) Wayne.” He cocked a dark brow. “Go big or go home, huh, baby girl?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Doctor Halberd wanted us to pick challenging topics for the research paper this term.” A crooked smile crossed her lips. “I’m nothing if not ambitious about proving I’m smarter than everyone else.”

“You need another source,” Bruce murmured, sipping the steaming black coffee. “One-fourteen is good, but I’d go for one-fifteen.”

She groaned and dropped her head. “Are you kidding me? I had enough trouble gathering that many.”

“Why don’t you use Barry?” Tim piped up, mouth full of whip cream and strawberries.

“Master Timothy, we do not talk with our mouth full,” Alfred admonished, and Tim blushed.

(Y/N)’s head shot up and she stared at her brother. “That’s actually a good idea. Speedsters would make for perfect references about cellular division.” An idea popped into her head and she glanced at Dick. “And since Wally is com—”

“Nope,” Dick interrupted, pointing at her. “Wally is coming over to hang out, not to be poked and prodded to finish a paper.”

She let out a whine and turned to Bruce. “Dad, tell Dick to let me at least talk to Wally about it.”

Bruce turned his attention onto Dick. “Let your sister talk to Wally about her paper.”

“Oh, come on,” he complained and (Y/N) stood from her seat, hurrying around the table to stand behind Dick’s seat.

She draped herself over his shoulders, tucking her chin in the crook of his neck. “I promise I won’t be annoying if you let me come with you. I’ll ask two questions every thirty minutes and I’ll go do shopping on my own, so I won’t be in the way.” (Y/N) craned her neck and pulled the most pitiful puppy eyes she could. “Please?”

Dick’s eyes darted to her face and then he looked away. Just one more push.

“Please frate?” she begged and when his eyes went wide from the usage of his native tongue, she knew she’d won him over.

He deflated and let out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbled. “You can come with us.”

(Y/N) squealed and pressed a kiss to his cheekbone, as she grabbed the paper and hurried towards the door. She halted and spun around, looking at her father.

“What do I need to be most specific about?”

“Division under elemental circumstances.”

She glowered at him. “No shit Sherlock. Specifics.”

“Molecular division under terrestrial gamma-ray flashes.”

“That’ll work,” (Y/N) nodded and exited to room.

Jason looked out the door then back to his brothers. “She’s way to excited about science sometimes.” They merely laughed.

***

She raised the red lace, cold shoulder V-neck shirt to her chest before frowning, and switching it with the full lace blue shirt with mini golden lightning bolt charms hanging off the trim. After a moment, she pulled the blue one down and sighed.

“You know, if you want to impress him, I’d wear the red shirt.”

She jumped and barely managed to suppress the scream that was coming up in her throat as she swiveled around to face her door. Jason stood in the doorway, a knowing look on his face. She could play this one of two ways: she could be truthful, or she could lie—she chose the latter.

“What do you mean?” He snorted and walked into her room, taking a seat at her desk.

“I mean if you’re trying to impress Wally, wear the shirt that’s the color of his suit, (Y/N).” She looked away and into the mirror, but she couldn’t escape the eyes boring into her back.

“Is it that obvious?” she asked quietly, and he laughed.

“That you’re head over heels for Dick’s best friend? Oh yeah. Totally.”

She sighed and sat on her bed, pulling the red top over her torso. “It’s just a crush.”

“Seems like more than a crush to me, baby girl.”

(Y/N) pulled the fabric down and looked at him. “Are you gonna tell Dick?”

Jason scoffed. “Do I look like a narc to you?”

She cocked a brow and deadpanned, “Just the other night you told dad that Damian lifted Two-Face’s wallet when he was being put in a cruiser.”

“Well, that wasn’t something important,” he countered and nodded at her. “This is.” He paused and shrugged. “Nah, I’m not gonna tell Dickhead. Play this out however you see fit, baby girl.”

(Y/N) stared at him for a moment then averted her gaze and let out a sigh; Jason huffed.

“That sounds like a heavy sigh, (Y/N). What’s wrong?”

She shrugged. “I don’t even know if Wally would be interested in me. He’s him and I’m me.”

Jason stood and walked over, kneeling in front of her. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

(Y/N) met his eyes. “Anytime he’s had a girlfriend she’s always been super strong or really outspoken.”

“And you’re not?” he quipped, causing her to huff.

“You know what I mean, Jay.”

He nodded. “Okay, so you’re not an Amazon or shoving your head up someone’s ass for a story. But you’re you.”

“And that means?”

“You’re the only daughter of the World’s Greatest Detective who’s a wicked smart science major by day and a badass vigilante by night.” He cupped her cheeks. “You are intelligent, warmhearted, talented, and absolutely beautiful.” Jason smushed her cheeks together and grinned as she giggled. “And if Wally doesn’t see any of what I just said, then he’s a damn fool and not worth your time. You hear me, baby girl?”

She nodded. “I hear you.”

Jason gave her a firm nod and let go, standing to his feet. “Now come on let’s go do your makeup.”

(Y/N) blinked. “You can do makeup?”

“Baby girl, I can do a lot of things. Now hurry up. That razor sharp eye liner and golden eyeshadow isn’t going to do itself.”

***

She waited beside Dick with a pleasant smile on her face, and despite the fluttering heartbeat in her chest, Jason’s pep talk kept running through her head and with every passing moment, she felt her confidence rising. He was right, if she told Wally and he didn’t feel the same, then it was his loss and her gain to move on and find someone else.

A black sedan pulled up at the manor and the passenger window rolled down, revealing Wally at the wheel and Garth in the passenger’s seat. Dick waved at them.

“Hey guys,” he greeted. “How was the drive over?”

“Oh, you know, we saw three carjacking’s and one armed robbery,” Garth quipped. “I assume that’s normal for Gotham though.”

“It’s a bit below average actually,” (Y/N) piped up. “Hi Garth. Hi Wally.”

Wally smiled and Garth waved in return as the two siblings started getting in the car.

“You’re coming with us, (Y/N)?” Wally questioned and she nodded.

“Do you want me to lie to you or give you the truth?”

He chuckled. “I’m always open for a good story.”

“I wanted to buy out Victoria’s Secret and piss off any boyfriends who are in hot water with their girlfriends.” The guys laughed and she admitted, “Truth though, I need one last source for a research paper.”

“Gonna find that source shopping?” Garth asked and (Y/N) caught Wally’s eyes in the rear-view mirror.

“Actually, my last source is Wally.”

They fell silent and looked at her, though the speedster’s focus was on the road.

“What are you gonna source Wally on?” The Atlantean inquired.

“My paper is over cellular mutation under distress from elemental conditions.” She smiled at Wally. “Our speedster here, is a walking subject perfect for the paper. I can only hope that he agrees to be a willing participant.”

Wally chuckled. “I’d be willing to part with a few secrets for you. Of course, I’d have to—”

“Remain anonymous.” (Y/N) winked. “I’m sure my professor would be okay with me citing ‘The Flash’ so long as I had a picture with him to back it up.”

“I like pictures,” he murmured, pulling into the parking lot.

“That’s good to know,” she replied and when he put the car in park, she took her purse and added, “So I’ll leave you boys to do your shopping and Wally, I’ll text you any questions I have.”

“You’re not gonna hang around?” Garth asked and she shook her head.

“Nah, I don’t wanna be the annoying little sister who follows her older brother and his friends around.” She smiled at them. “Besides, Dick was kind enough to let me come along. Least I can do is stay out of your way.”

(Y/N) opened the door and waved at them. “Text me when you’re ready to leave and I’ll meet you back here.”

***

Despite the initial joke that she was going to buy out the lingerie store, there was actually some truth in the statement, and she drew her fingers over one of the lace baby dolls as she looked at her phone, grinning like a dope at Wally’s response.

Well, I wouldn’t say I’d grow a second skin from how fast my cells regenerate, but I can make my body heal instantaneously. -W

Can you regenerate limbs or major organs? –(Y/I)

Major organs or useful ones? -W

(Y/N) paused at his response and thought for a moment. It was risky. Sending the text, she was thinking about was risky, but it’d sure get her point across that she was into him. With her heart hammering in her chest, she pushed send and stuck her phone in her pocket.

Whichever ones are useful to you, Wally? ;) –(Y/N)

Her phone didn’t buzz for a good minute, and Wally took less than a second to reply, so he was doing one of two things: A.) Telling Dick that his younger sister sent a flirty text, or B.) Trying to figure out how to let her down easy. (Y/N) didn’t know which one was worse. Her hip buzzed and she inhaled shakily, pulling her phone out of her pocket with one eye cracked open to see how screwed she was.

Do you have a useful one in mind, beautiful? -W

She had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from letting out the biggest gasp any human had ever made, and she nervously looked around her to make sure no one else was staring at her. She grinned as she replied to him.

Oh, I could think of one…or two or three…Why? Is there gonna be a pop quiz over this later? I’ll have you know I’m an excellent test taker. –(Y/N)

Is that so? Well, what happens if you were to fail this particular pop quiz, (Y/N)? -W

I guess you’d have to stay the night for a study session and help me make a better grade ;) –(Y/I)

As she waited for another response, someone’s hand touched the small of her back and she reacted, immediately stepping away from the offending touch to spin on them. Her eyes went wide when she saw Wally standing before her, a grin on his face, phone in his hand.

“I think an overnight study session is possible, (Y/N).”

Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like a fish until she finally got her brain to work and asked, “I thought you were shopping with Dick and Garth?”

He shrugged. “Told Dick you asked me an advanced question that’d be easier to answer in person than over text.” He wiggled his brows. “You know, advanced equations and scientific gibberish.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and turned back around, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks as she picked up one of the teddies. And when she realized what it looked like, she only felt more flustered. Crimson with baby blue trimming and was practically a shoelace.

“Well, that’sa hint if there ever was one,” Wally quipped, and she pulled the lingerie out of his line of sight.

“It was just the first one I grabbed!” she exclaimed, snapping her mouth shut when people looked over at them. Her cheeks felt like they were wildfires, and she pressed her head against the cool metal of the rack, sighing with what little relief it provided.

“You know, (Y/N),” he started softly. “If you’re not comfortable, this doesn’t have to go anywhere. I can forget this ever happened if you want me to.” (Y/N) opened her eyes and peered at him, at the concern but also the kindness in his gaze.

“I just—” she murmured and trailed off before letting out a sigh. “It’s kinda complicated.”

“Okay,” Wally nodded. “My mouth might work faster than my brain sometimes but lay it on me.”

She cracked a smile and thought back on Jason’s words. If Wally doesn’t see any of what I just said, then he’s a damn fool and not worth your time.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and looked at him, admitting, “Wally, I have…feelings for you.” His eyes widened and though she felt the sting of embarrassment, she pushed out her words. “It’s stupid, like one of those dumb childhood crushes that just sticks with you, you know?”

She averted her gaze and looked at her peep toe heels. “I just don’t wanna screw anything up because even if you don’t feel anything like I do, I don’t wanna lose you as a friend. Because I do value your friendship.” She sighed. “And Dick. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable about coming over to see him if there’s a chance you’ll have to see me too. I just—”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Wally interrupted gently, a smile growing on his face. “You’re thinking way big here, (Y/N). Bigger than you need to right now.”

She met his eyes. “Right now?” she repeated, and he reached out, taking her hand in his. His fingers felt tingly against her palm and he smiled.

“I like you, (Y/N).”

She blinked at him, practically dumbfounded. “You…you do?”

Wally nodded and confessed, “Have for a couple years, but I didn’t wanna make a move not knowing if you were interested.” His cheeks tinged pink, and he said, “But I’m glad you are. Like super glad.” (Y/N) giggled, suddenly feeling really foolish for all her worry and Wally let out a chuckle too.

She stared at him for a moment, relishing the coolness of his skin before pulling away, toying with the teddy in her other hand.

“So, about tonight…you staying over?”

Wally let out a groan and looked between her and the lingerie. “Probably, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to get away long enough to spend some time alone with you.”

(Y/N) let out a ‘pfft’ and winked. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Flash. You are the fastest man alive.”

“You’re into quickies? Good to know,” he grinned.

“Shut up,” she giggled.

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katsukikitten · 3 years

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Part one. Master list for plus one can be found here.

Just a nice fic I decided to write for fun. Please enjoy!

Asshole!

He was nothing but a huge, giant fucking ASSHOLE for the entire two years the two of you were dating and he decides NOW is a good time to break up with you?

Two days before your cousin's wedding and over TEXT MESSAGE?!

That fucking asshole.

He knew how you felt. Exactly how you felt about going alone to your cousin's wedding after your family begged to meet your boyfriend and teased you for "probably making him up." Which hell, he may as well have been made up considering how absent he was in the relationship. Using work as an excuse to come home late but forgetting to turn off his snap location when he showed up at the bar.

So you did what any rational woman in her upper twenties would do.

You drowned your sorrows in booze, tonight red wine as it was the only thing around, and you scrolled through your socials in hopes of distracting yourself from your suffering.

Alas the devil that is Instagram only amplified your sadness and irritation. Showing couple after couple, your friends on hikes kissing on the mountain top, kissing in the flickering light of candles at a fancy dinner or, worst yet, getting proposed to. The video showing her in hysterics screaming, "YES I DO I DO!"

And it feels terrible to feel this way. Especially about your friends, the people you love and want to support, still it stings. You hadn't told anyone about the breakup, you weren't even sure your friends even remembered that asshole's name.

A teardrop lands on your screen, magnifying all the magical lights of the led beneath the glad. You wipe away the tear and with that the feed refreshes. A new post has come in at the top, Res Riot's official account.

Kirishima stands with a fat white cat in his arms. He dwarfs the animal with his large stature that looks larger as he still has his Red Riot gear on. The caption reads something along the lines of "missed my precious baby."

Red wine is a dangerous thing as your body acts on its own. You go to his page to hit the little arrow to DM him. Typing out and backspacing your message as you struggle from the booze, you decide to say fuck it and use the voice memo feature. Before you know it your sniffling voice is playing back to you after you've hit send.

"My ex broke up with me before this stupid wedding. It's in two days and my family is going to roast me big time when I show up alone. They think I made that asshole up. I don't know why I'm even in your dms. Your account is probably run by some dick head who can't even capture your kindness. I guess I'm here cause my first thought seeing you on my timeline was Red Riot has always been my hero…"

Ugh totally fucking cringe.

There is no surprise as you see the three normally ominous dots pop up, probably his social media manager about to ask you to stop your "advances" as Kirishima is too busy to date and he'd hate to block you or some other bullshit.

But there it is a surprise to see a little bubble with the play button and some vertical lines in various heights. It takes your sluggish brain a moment to realize you've been sent a voice memo. Odd. Your thumb smashes the screen faster than you can think and a deep voice rumbles through the speakers of your phone.

"Actually I run my official and personal socials. And I'm sorry to hear about your ex doll. He sounds like a real ass. I'll be your hero, I'll go with you to the wedding."

Your heart stutters, no way, no way in HELL this was Red Riot. You had read about the horror stories before or pervy account managers taking advantage of women who so desperately wanted to talk to their hero.

Hell, it's happened to Dynamight plenty of times.

You swallow quickly but the bile rushes up your throat. Not just from the anxiety of a possible con but from drinking an entire bottle of wine with nothing on your stomach after months of sobriety. Quickly you stumble to the bathroom, abandoning your phone on your bed. You barely make it in time to praise the porcelain Gods before you fall onto your back. Looking up at the light in your cramped bathroom, the orb doubles and spins as you feel the Earth turning on its axis. You curl into your side using your bathmat as a pillow as you drift off into sleep, totally forgetting about the voice memo on your phone.

As you sleep peacefully on your memory foam bath rug, Kirishima settles into his nightly routine. One giant hand grabbing strands of long dark red hair into a towel while another sits snugly around his Adonis belt and the thick, black happy trail that follows up the center of his abs before spreading out onto his chest. He tosses the towel over the open door of the bathroom before sitting in his favorite armchair with phone in hand. Diamond, his beautiful white cat he rescued a few years ago, jumps onto the arm of the chair, purring loudly when Kirishima's free hand scratches her ears absentmindedly.

He chuckles to himself as he realizes exactly what he's done. Acting on a feeling instead of logic all because he heard a "damsel in distress." Starting off his rare vacation with spontaneity starting with an impromptu date with a stranger. He really isn't sure what you look like and it's obvious your handle doesn't have your real name in it, just PrincessPeach with some random numbers at the end. He takes the time to scroll through your profile. Seeing pictures of food, of many sunsets, a friend's dog that guest appears often, your own cat and plenty of strays.

It takes him a while before he sees a photo of you. His heart stutters in his chest as he looks you over. Laughing with a friend, soft lighting from strings over head that blur like little fireflies. Your smile is wide, half hidden by your hands as your eyes seem to smile with you. Sparkling as if they held stars.

For a moment Kirishima forgets how to breathe, it isn't until Diamond jumps down from the armchair does he inhale. He smiles softly to himself before he drops his towel, puts his phone on charge and promptly falls asleep in his bed.

Kirishima rises before the sun even has a chance to filter through his blinds. He sighs softly, getting up to a sitting position disturbing a fluffy white ball that lays beside him.

"Mmrow." Moon stone eyes blink slowly as they look at the mountainous man hogging the bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you sweet baby." He says softly, going to pet the soft white fur only for her to get up stretch and give him her butt before plopping back down.

"I know, mean ol' daddy woke you up too early again." He says softly, his hand falling onto her back before he rises from the bed. Fishing for his running shorts, socks, headphones and shoes. He makes his protein shake, leaning on the counter as he drinks it, looking at how you read, or better yet, listened to his message but still no reply. It was late and there was a small slurring of your words, he figures you've passed out. He just hopes you're okay.

His run goes as usual, up before anyone else unless they were the normal avid runner. Passing by the usual array of people. An old man holding onto his youth by jogging through his daily five mile morning run, Kirishima knows he runs another five in the evening while the sun is setting. He hopes he can embody some of this man's commitment when he is older. Then he passes a middle aged woman, who gives him the biggest smile as she pases, jogging backward to send him a wink before plowing ahead. Occasionally he'll see a running group or a few teens training to be heroes, they always ask if they can run his route. "It's long." He always warns in a kind, warm voice. They assure him they will be fine so far only one other person could handle his 12 mile morning run. A young woman in her second year of hero courses at UA. Since then Kirishima put in a word with his boss and so every time internships roll around she's in the office.

By the time Kirishima is rounding back towards his high rise apartment, the city begins to stir. Slowly waking as men and women in business suits rush towards the train, parents flinging open the doors or curtains fussing at their children who cling to an extra few minutes of sleep before school.

This was always his favorite part of the run, not because it was almost over, oh no it was because he had a chance to glimpse at everyday life. Of nine to fives, of school hours and after school hangs outs at snack bars or the library.

What most would call the mundane but Kirishima would never call it that. It's why he worked so hard to protect it.

Diamond greets his sweaty form at the door. Glaring angrily with her moon stone eyes. Tail swishing before she goes to the kitchen by her bowl. Waiting impatiently.

"I'm not late, sweet cheeks." He coos, and she glares, "I know I know. You're hungry now."

He opens the fridge, gets out the highest quality food there is and places it on her dish, sure to keep it all in the middle or she'll claim her bowl was empty. He added a splash of water too since the weather was starting to get hot.

He sucks down a water or two, demolishes a protein bar and then heads to the apartment gym.

A few hours roll by and without hearing from you yet his worry over your well being begins to cloud the forefront of his mind. He pauses his music, picks up his phone and talks out a voice memo.

A loud DING echoes from your room and around your skull as you rise with a throbbing headache.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself grabbing at your head as you shakily rise to your feet. Yanking the handle of the faucet to drink from the stream before looking at yourself in the mirror.

"Ugh." You grunt ignoring your swollen face and eyes, yanking the mirror door open to snatch at the bottle of aspirin. Swallowing THREE extra strength pills before slamming the door shut and turning off the faucet. You make your way towards your bedroom, more than ready to sleep the rest of your day away. Grabbing at your phone to charge it you see the push notification of an Instagram message from Red Riot.

The fucking Red Riot.

Internally you scream before it bubbles up your throat and escapes. You fumble to unlock your phone before looking that it's a voice memo.

Mortified you realize you sent one too. And first at that.

"Fuck MEEE!" You plop onto the bed. Nervous this second voice memo is probably about how you're a weirdo or something as you relive the memory of asking him to be your plus one.

Hesitantly your thumb hovers over the play button before you find the strength to press the cool glass. A soft thunderous voice plays out.

"Good morning sleepy head. I haven't heard from you yet, I hope you're okay. Be sure to drink some water and eat something greasy. Trust me, late nights with Denki and Bakugou taught me something. Since the wedding is tomorrow I'll need a picture of your dress for the color and style so I can match you Sweet pea. Contact me soon so I can know where to pick you up."

Did he… did he just call you SWEET PEA? Your heart pounds in your chest before it registers he's asked for your dress color and lowkey asked for your address. This couldn't be real. It sounded like Kirishima, his voice familiar from interviews you've watched but it very well could be a prank. Defeated you hit the small microphone and reply.

Kirishima hears a sharp DING in his headphones over his music as he finishes his set. He wipes the sweat from his face on his shirt giving the few people in the gym a lovely view of his sweaty and thick torso. One woman trips on the treadmill but it goes unnoticed by Kirishima. He pauses his music and hits play on the little memo. Your beautiful yet groggy voice comes in through his ear buds causing Kirishima to bite his lip. It causes such a flutter of butterflies in his stomach he has to listen a second time to actually hear what you said. Although he understand, he cannot help but feel hurt by your reply.

"How do I know you're not just some pervy guy using Kirishima's Godly looks to prey on unsuspecting people."

Your phone chirps at you from the bed stand and you growl reaching for it. You had hoped your message would have been clear. An unspoken of you know they're a fucking creep taking advantage of their PR job.

"What can I do to prove it to you, Sweet Pea?"

You hate how that cute nickname sends your heart into a somersault and your stomach in delightful knots. Still your doubt pulls a harsh tut from your lips before you reply.

Kirishima doesn't need his phone to alert him that you've messaged him, he's been looking at his screen for far to long without having to restart his set. He listens to your voice as if it were music.

"Fine, you wanna prove it to me so bad. Take a picture of yourself shirtless with the word 'Sweet pea' you love so much and send it to me. No photoshop I know what my favorite hero looks like!"

For over an hour you don't hear back and you figure you showed that perv.

But now you can't sleep so you nurse a water, door dash a "greasy" breakfast all before cranking your shower as high as it can go. Your phone dings and you try to ignore it. You really do but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat. Opening the message you see a classic guy mirror selfie. Kirishima is clear as day in the photo, his large hand pointing to his bare, hairy chest where sweat pea is scrawled in his adorable handwriting. He winks at the camera as his kissable lips wear a dangerous, almost cocky eyes travel down his bulk following his happy trail that dives under a pair of black shorts, the best part of the view getting cut off by the vanity. At first you try to rationalize that this was fake but damning evidence was sitting on the vanity. A fluffy white cat in a diamond and ruby encrusted collar sits on the counter giving her owner an odd look.

His cat Diamond that everyone knows he loves and adores. Slick begins to collect between your thighs and especially so after you listen to the voice memo that comes through shortly after. His normally friendly and soft voice comes out a bit dark, husky as he says in a playfully annoyed tone.

"Now send me a picture of that dress, Sweet Pea."

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha x reader

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justarandomsloth · 2 years

Text

Changing Sizes Au-Oneshot

AHH I told myself that this would be a one-shot but I have to go do yardwork for 6 hours and wanted to get this done so here *Throws*

I have had NO time to edit this and it’s my first time really writing stuff like this so I hope you enjoy :)

Please don’t feel shy to send asks or prompts.

Changing Sizes

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Ranboo lived a very dangerous life.

In his defense, never in his wildest dreams did he imagine himself ending up here.

He just had a case of bad timing (as well as incredibly bad luck) on his side.

Ranboo had been in the middle of the town making a supply run when all hell just so happened to break loose.

The first sign that something was wrong was when all the tv’s in the store switched to Channel 9 News and started blaring the Essempi national anthem.

The entirety of the shop had fallen silent as they crowded around the tvs to hear what the reporter had to say,

“Just outside of the city limits a giant has been caught and detained….” The reporter continued on as Ranboo looked away and tried desperately to curb his panic.

He looked back to see the usual blonde reporter, Clementine, continuing on about how for the time being all of the city gates would be closing and nobody would be allowed in or out.

That was extremely bad news for the shapeshifter.

That’s what Ranboo was, a shapeshifter.

He could grow as tall as a full-blooded giant or become as small as a human’s hand.

Normally however, and when he went on supply runs, the teen liked to stay at his normal size of 6’6 which still slightly towered over most people.

His shifting was very emotion based and he could barely control it.

Ranboo knew that he needed a place to stay and his lucky break came in the form of His new two neighbors, Tommy and Tubbo.

The two of them had posted up a “Roommate Wanted: Will Split Rent” poster up on the apartment complex’s bulletin board and Ranboo had been the only taker.

The apartment itself was small with thin walls that were colored a light yellow and an older (but still fairly sturdy) couch.

It was a tight squeeze with three people now living there but they made it work.

The first few days after Ranboo moved in he avoided them despite how it probably made him seem rude or stuck up.

It was hard to stay silent for long when they both tried to include him in their conversations. Why he didn’t know.

Ranboo tried to keep up his stone cold appearance but it only took him a couple of days to crack and talk to them.

Once he did he found out that, surprisingly, he enjoyed their company. It didn’t take long for him to become friends with the duo.

After that Tubbo and Tommy became almost like brothers to him.

Ranboo wondered if they felt the same way.

However even if Tommy and Tubbo did feel the same way, the size shifter still kept his secret well hidden.

Until one day he didn’t.

It had just been a normal Saturday where all of the trio hadn’t had to pick up any shifts or cover for anyone else so they were all off work.

Tommy and Tubbo had gone out to the store and had insisted that Ranboo stay home for some reason.

While he couldn’t help but think that that was a little odd, he was grateful for the peace and quiet that followed their leaving.

He tidied up around the small apartment until he deemed it clean enough then flopped down onto the couch to turn on the news.

While watching the news wasn’t the most exciting thing, but Ranboo had always had a belief that it was important to know what was going on in the city.

After around 15 minutes he was about to change the channel, having thought he’d see enough, when suddenly there was an emergency city-wide broadcast.

As the topic suddenly changed gears images of a sizeshifter that Ranboo once knew flashed across the screen.

His eyes blew wide in panic as he saw the now giant, someone who would’ve never hurt a fly, being detained and imprisoned like some sort of beast.

It made him feel sick and a tell-tale tugging start up in his stomach.

Ranboo felt a dizzying sensation as his emotions spiked and the area between the floor and the couch seemingly shrunk.

With his ever looming panic it took him a few seconds to realize that the room wasn’t shrinking, he was growing.

All he could do was bend almost in half as he felt another wave of nausea overcome him. Ranboo’s shoulders brushed the ceiling as he backed himself up into the corner where he was less likely to do more damage.

As the shifter was moving his arm accidentally collided with the table and sent it across the room where it hit the wall with a crack.

Now panicking he wrenched himself further against the wall and tears filled his eyes as his back dug painfully into the wall.

‘What would his friends think? Surely they would come and see him taking up the whole apartment and think he was a giant or ,even worse, a monster.’

The more logical part of Ranboo’s mind told him that maybe, just maybe his friends wouldn’t shun him. Maybe after all of these months things would be different.

He quickly ignored those though because even if they could be true he couldn’t risk it.

He couldn’t risk being turned in to the government because his friends might decide not to turn him in.

Ranboo needed to leave as soon as possible.

All of the exits were obviously out of the question.

That only left one option.

Ranboo slowed his breathing and tried with all his might to shift back down to his normal size but to no avail.

Just as he thought that things couldn’t get worse, his roommates arrived.

With his now advanced hearing Ranboo could hear their footsteps echoing down the hall, his secret about to be inevitably spilled as they got closer and closer to the door.

All he could do was try and push himself further into the wall, hoping that it would make him magically seem smaller.

‘Like that’ll work-’ The sinister part of his brain whispered to him.

Ranboo quickly shoved those thoughts aside, trying to ignore the choruses of ‘Monster’ and ‘Giant’ that now ran through his head.

With no better options he hung his head in defeat, prayed to any god that would listen, and waited for Tommy and Tubbo to walk in through the door.

---------

Part 2 coming soon-ish

#mcyt g/t #sizeshifter!ranboo #human!tommy #human!tubbo #Changing Sizes au

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

My Name Isn't

Summary: You find out the guys (Bucky, Steve, and Sam) have a bet as to who can kiss you first, so you confront them at Tony's team building karaoke night.

Warnings: some swearing and drinking

Word Count: 3187

a/n: This was inspired by my love of the classic using karaoke to express your feelings trope and the song My Name Isn't by LOVA. I did change the lyric "yours" into "doll" though because it made sense in the story.

"Not a chance, Wilson." Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve walked into the room, unbothered by the familiar sounds of Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes arguing.

"C'mon tin man, you afraid you're gonna lose?' Sam couldn't help but tease the super soldier.

"It's a stupid bet! Steve tell him it's a stupid bet." Bucky stared at his best friend, silently begging for him to agree.

Steve's tone could only be described as exasperated when he responded, "what is it this time?"

"I bet Barnes and Noble over here," Sam stopped talking to dodge the book Bucky threw at him, "that I could get Y/N to kiss me before he could, and he's too chicken shit to take the bet."

"It's a stupid bet!" Bucky was gearing up to throw another book when Steve chimed in. "I don't know Buck, it could get you to finally act on your feelings for her."

Bucky rolled his eyes, responding with his typical denial "I don't have any feelings, punk."

Sam and Steve shared an obvious "this man is lying" look before turning back to Bucky.

"Fine, Cap since Bucky won't take the bet, will you?" The mischievous gleam in Sam's eye shown through as Steve weighed his options.

"It is a pretty stupid bet, but I'm doing this for you Buck." Clapping Bucky on the shoulder, he turned to Sam. "I'm in." As Steve went to shake Sam's hand, Bucky gave in.

"Fine! Fine. All three of us. The first one to kiss her wins." Bucky reluctantly agreed.

"Now, what does the winner get?" Sam posed the question, mischief clear in his eyes.

The first time you had an inkling that something was afoot was your training with Steve and Bucky later that same day. Steve wasn't overly touchy or anything that would make you uncomfortable, this is America's Golden Boy after all, but he kept calling you "honey" or some variation of it. You'd throw a punch and rather than correcting your form in his usual commanding Captain voice, he would feed you a random compliment followed by a "try it like this hun."

You left the gym confused and with more energy than one would typically have after training with Steve Rogers. Luckily for you, Nat and Wanda noticed it too.

"What was that about?" Wanda asked as soon as the three of you were out of earshot.

"I don't have a clue." Your expression of complete confusion was enough to convince the two women you were telling the truth.

"I always thought Barnes had a thing for you. I wouldn't expect Steve of all people to try to mess that up. Especially with how obvious you are!" Nat chimed in. You've never regretted anything more than getting drunk and admitting your feelings for the brunette super soldier to the two women.

"Ugh, are the two of you ever gonna forget about that?" Your question was rhetorical as you nearly slammed the door to your room, but it didn't stop the two women from shouting "not a chance" and "only if you tell him" through the door.

The second time you noticed the weird behavior was the next day. You were running through some basic defense moves with some new Shield agents when Sam walked in with Bucky.

Now, normally Sam avoids you in the gym because he knows you'll kick his ass. All your time spent training with Nat mixed with your advanced perception skills meant you are a force to be reckoned with in the gym. This time though, he asked to spar before running through his typical warm up routine.

"You sure, Wilson? I wouldn't want to bruise your ego any further." You joked with him, unsure of his motives.

"Oh I'm sure, baby. Do your worst."

So you did. You had him on the mat in 4 minutes even, not letting the "baby" comment phase you until later in the night when you were with Wanda and Nat.

"First, Steve keeps calling me honey. Now Wilson is in on it with baby! What the hell is going on?'

The three of you shared identical shrugs, choosing to ignore it for now in favor of girls night.

Your days continued with the random comments from Sam and Steve. Of course, after the first 24 hours you noticed a pattern emerging. The two men would only use the pet names if Bucky was in the room. If Bucky couldn't overhear what was being said, everything was normal, but all bets were off if he so much as stepped in the room. It was constant affection and compliments from the two men.

You were thinking about the pattern you'd discovered, along with what it could mean, when Tony barged into the common room like a man on fire.

He surveyed the room, noting the presence of nearly every team member. The only three missing? Sam, Steve, and Bucky. You had a feeling they were most definitely up to something. "Oh perfect, most of you are here already! I have decided we don't do enough team building. Saving the world is stressful and we deserve to relax, so... drumroll please!" He waited for an extended period of time, until you, Wanda, and Vision gave him a lackluster drumroll. "That could use some work, but I'm not going to let it bring me down. We're doing karaoke! I rented out a bar for tonight, so clear your schedules ladies and gentlemen! We start at 8."

To say he was met with mixed results would be underselling the range of reactions. Nat looked ready to kill him. Thor was so excited, he reminded you of a golden retriever playing fetch. Most everybody else fell somewhere in the middle.

"Y/N, be a dear and let the three stooges know would ya? I don't know where they are and I don't feel like finding them." Tony didn't wait for a response before leaving the room just as rapidly as he entered it.

"I guess that's my cue. I'll be back and we can at least get ready together?" You looked to Nat and Wanda for confirmation before leaving to find Steve, Bucky, and Sam.

You checked Sam's room first because it's the closest to the common area, but there was no sign of life. Steve and Bucky's rooms sat similarly untouched. You went to the gym, the pool, the game room, and circled back to the kitchen but they were nowhere to be seen. Finally, you gave up the impromptu game of hide and seek asking FRIDAY where they were.

"FRIDAY, do you know where Steve, Bucky, and Sam are?"

"Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, and Lieutenant General Wilson are on the roof." The AI responded so fast, it had you wondering why didn't just ask her 40 minutes ago when their rooms were all empty.

"What the hell are they doing on the roof?" You huffed as you made your way back to the elevator.

"They are the discussing the terms of their bet." FRIDAY's response surprised you. You hadn't meant to actually receive an answer, but now that you did you were curious.

"What bet?" You continued the line of questioning as the elevator rose to the roof access point.

"The three made a bet to see who could get you to kiss them first."

Suddenly, all the pet names and compliments made sense.

"Son of a bi-" You cut yourself off as the elevator door opened, leading you directly to the three men in question. They turned abruptly, clearly caught off guard by anyone coming to the roof.

"Finally. I've been looking for you three everywhere!" You kept the new found information to yourself for the time being. "Tony decided we're doing karaoke tonight. We're supposed to be at the bar he rented out by 8pm." You smiled, taking in the slightly guilty expressions on each of their faces. Even if FRIDAY hadn't told you, it would be painstakingly obvious you caught them talking about you.

"Thanks doll, we'll make sure we're there." You felt the butterflies in your stomach at the pet name, but quickly shut it down. You wouldn't be giving in to their bet that easily.

"No problem, see you boys soon." You winked, pressing the button to bring you back to the main floor. You had a plan to make after all.

"Well, it's karaoke why don't you just sing a song to call them out on it?" Wanda suggested another idea as you all got ready to head to the bar.

"That could work. You just need the perfect song." Nat chimed in, quickly applying some mascara.

"Wanda, you're a genius, and I think I have just the one." You grinned, pulling the song up to play while you finished getting ready.

Upon entering the bar, you immediately started second guessing your plan. That is, until the pet names came out to play. Sam was back at it with calling you baby, and Steve right there beside him with honey.

When you put your name down to sing, Wanda and Nat were right there with you, hyping you up and providing some liquid courage. Four drinks in and you finally felt just tipsy enough to actually follow through with your plan.

With the encouraging words from Nat and Wanda playing through your mind, you walked up to the stage, pulling up your chosen song on the karaoke machine.

You decided to play the beginning of the song off as a coincidence, not wanting to clue the guys in too early.

"One, two, three have been staring at me. It's been going all night."

You made eye contact with Nat and Wanda, fully relying on the feminist in you to knock these guys down a few pegs. By the time the chorus rolled around, you were ready.

Making direct eye contact with Sam, you put as much sass as possible into the next line.

"My name isn't 'baby,' you cannot say whatever you feel like. I am not the things you call me."

Switching your target from Sam to Steve, you kept going with the performance.

"My name isn't 'honey,' I will always do whatever I feel like. Honestly, you don't know me."

Clearly the three of them realized you knew about their bet, but you were on a roll. Switching focus to Bucky, you switched up the words a little bit to put him on blast as well.

"My name isn't... doll. My name isn't... doll."

The girls must have filled in the rest of the group, because you now had Bruce, Thor, Vision, Tony, Pepper, Clint, Wanda, and Nat cheering you on. They were whopping and hollering in agreement with the lyrics.

"We ain't got the time for you messing around so cut the deal."

"Cut the deal!!" You heard Tony yelling out as an echo, shaking your head with a slight chuckle.

"So don't come here and say, 'boys will be boys.' Behind every act there's always a choice."

The three men in question at least had the decency to look ashamed of their actions. Of course, that wasn't enough for you to not put them on blast through another round of the chorus.

The high from calling them out wore off right around the line:

"Do you really think that you can get your way by playing the same game."

Singing those words made you realize exactly what just happened. You held it together, put up a front long enough to get through the last chorus. Singing the last line to Bucky, you felt like your emotions were all over your face. The annoyance that the bet existed. The pain at him being part of it. The love you'd been trying to hide. All of it felt like it was right out in the open.

"My name isn't... Doll. My name isn't, my name isn't... Doll."

You took a quick bow in thanks for all the applause, before running off the stage. You didn't stop at the table with Nat and Wanda, nor did you stop for the three men trying to apologize. You made it outside, running about five blocks before even taking in your surroundings. Noticing a McDonald's, you sent a quick prayer that the ice cream machine was actually functioning before ducking inside.

The team stood with mouths hanging open at your sudden departure.

"What the hell just happened?" Tony posed the question to the group, knocking them out of their stupor.

Bucky was the first to follow you outside, his panic growing when he didn't see you leaning against any of the brick walls.

"Where is she?" Steve asked, spinning in circles right alongside Bucky while the rest of the group filed out the door.

"I don't know!" Bucky turned on Steve and Sam. "I never should have agreed to that stupid bet. Dammit!" Running his hands through his hair, he took off down the street calling a quick, "I'll look this way" over his shoulder.

He moved quickly down the street, keeping his eyes peeled for your sparkly, dark red dress. He looked through the windows of the many store fronts as he passed them. About five blocks later, he was about to turn around, assuming you went a different direction when he saw the familiar golden "m". A memory from about three weeks ago was quick to flash through his mind.

The team just came back from a two and a half week mission yesterday, meaning Tony was bound to throw a party today. It went about the same as most Tony Stark parties go; a lot of schmoozing until most guests left and the team could actually let loose.

You let a little looser than normal at the after party. After the mission required you to pretend to be married to Bucky, you felt like you deserved it. It was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings from him, especially when he insisted on walking you to your room after the party.

In a last ditch effort to avoid any drunk escapades, you asked him to take you to McDonald's instead of your room.

"Please Bucky?" You asked, drawing out the words and adding a small pout for good measure. "I just want a McFlurry and some fries! Please!"

"Sure, doll. We can go to McDonald's." You jumped up and down clapping, hugging him as you praised him for being so kind.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are the nicest, most perfect man to ever live. Let's gooooo!!" He smiled at your antics, leading you to one of the many cars Tony kept stocked, not quite trusting you to ride a motorcycle at the moment.

After getting the food, the two of you ate together in the car. You, of course, insisting he try dipping the fries in the ice cream.

Reluctantly, he admitted it wasn't that bad before driving the two of you home. He dropped you off at your door, receiving a whispered "thank you" and a quick kiss to the cheek from you.

He smiled at the memory before walking inside. He found you in a booth toward the back, unsurprisingly dipping fries into your ice cream

"Y/N, I'm so sorry." You didn't even look up when he started speaking, choosing instead to study the m&ms in your dessert. "Really. It was a stupid bet. Hell, I didn't even want to do it, but then that punk and birdman teamed up against me and I couldn't let them do it without me! It would've killed me to know one of them kissed you. It was so stupid and I should've just shut it down. I'm so sorry. You deserve so much more than that." He trailed off, waiting for you to say something.

You gestured to the seat across from you, pushing some fries toward him. "It was a stupid bet."

You waited until his mouth was full before asking "Why would it have killed you?" Watching him nearly choke on his fries was oddly satisfying.

"What?" He tried to deflect the question. You shook your head, passing him a napkin.

"You said it would have killed you to know one of them kissed me. Why?" You looked him in the eye as you ate another fry.

"Well, you see, I... um, maybe have um... feelings." It was his turn to stare intently at the m&ms. He mumbled a quick "get yourself together" under his breath before continuing. "I like you. Hell, I think I love you. I don't know when it started, but suddenly you are all I can think about. I worry about you constantly when your on a mission without me, even though I know you can take care of yourself. I see little things that remind me of you everywhere. Like yesterday, I saw a buttercup on the side of the road and I couldn't stop thinking about the time you spent a good twenty minutes ranting about how spring is the worst season."

Suddenly, you were on a tangent. "Because it is! It's always raining, it's muggy, it's always freezing in the morning and way too hot in the afternoon so you have to carry all these extra layers-"

"I love you. That's why it would've killed me. I don't even want to think about you with another-"

It was your turn to cut him off, doing so by leaning across the small table to kiss him. It was quick, but you still felt fireworks.

"I love you too." Your words were sweet, but shifted when you said the rest of your sentence. "I just have one more question." The smirk on your face made him nervous, but he was more than willing to answer anything.

"What do you get for winning?"

After talking with Bucky, you texted Nat and Wanda to let them know you were okay and the two of you were headed back to the compound. You beat everyone else back, but decided to wait for them in the common area.

Steve and Sam came in with their heads low, struggling to make eye contact.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. We never should have made that bet." Steve started, aware of all the eyes on him.

"Me too. It was stupid and thoughtless." Sam added on.

"It was, but you are forgiven." You reached for Bucky's hand, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Bucky told me the winner of your little bet gets to pick the music for all forms of travel on the next three missions." You grinned at their confused expressions. "Bucky, being the winner, has so graciously bestowed that gift to me now. Get ready boys. I'm talking High School Musical. Hamilton. I'll have the two of you singing Taylor Swift in the shower." You, along with the rest of the team, laughed at their expense. Their grim expressions had you smiling, "oh please, I know you secretly love it!"

"Now, I have to go to bed. I have a date tomorrow." You winked at Bucky before sauntering off down the hall, the cheers of your teammates following you.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #marvel fic #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #tony stark #marvel

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