#//sorry for it being so short!!! i always struggle when first starting new threads!!

[myristicisms]

starter for @goresugars | kotarou yoiite

How strange an experience it truly was whenever the Hashira ranks expanded, it seldom came as a surprise when they decreased; Such was the life of a demon slayer, a pillar even and yet the initial excitement, giddiness even of having yet another join the pillars filled Kyojuro's heart with a sense of pride.

It had also been in part due to the new pillar already being acquainted enough with the flamesman, enough so that he'd be able to at least claim the shorter man as a friend rather than a stranger or heaven forbid a tolerated coworker. Though that seldom was a worry that ever came to fruition, every slayer being some sort of friendly towards the current flame pillar.

It was because of this new addition in fact that Kyojuro had received a letter from another companion, kaname squawking about how he should bring lunch to Yoiite san, and thus the man of flames set off with two bentos in hand, happily embarking on his journey to the ice pillar's estate, cozy as it was it was certainly something he'd come to envy, the size being more homely, warm even if he'd truly had to describe it. He hardly allows himself to dwell much though, instead focusing on gently knocking his fist against the shoji, precariously balancing both boxes in his other hand whilst patiently awaiting his friend.

[bellakitse]

When the world throws you off the track (I have your back)

“I’m just glad my son’s tender heart didn’t cost him this time,” he finishes with a half-smile, looking at TK like he’s waiting for him to agree. Instead, TK frowns at the words and the tone with which they are said.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he questions, feeling his hackles rise as the man gives him a confused look.

+

Gabriel stops by Carlos' place and finds TK, they have a conversation about Carlos' decisions.

Warning* there is a passing line about police brutality 

TK is lounging around on his boyfriend’s couch, resting like he promised he would, while Carlos is at the market when the doorbell rings. He frowns slightly at the sound. He and Carlos aren’t expecting anyone. The team had wanted to stop by, but Carlos, being overly protective after his latest accident and head injury from just two days ago, had pushed them off till the weekend.

He gets up slowly from the nice cocoon Carlos made him before he left, figuring that maybe his boyfriend needed help with the door. Carlos only went to get a few things for dinner, but TK knows how he likes to wander the shops, always coming home with more than he set out to buy.

“Did you buy out the market again, babe,” he asks as he opens the door, coming up short when it’s not his boyfriend struggling with groceries, but instead his boyfriend’s father standing on the other side, eyebrow raised at his greeting. “Mr. Reyes,” he stammers out, caught by surprise at the man’s presence. “Uh, hi?”

The man gives him an amused half-smile in return. “Hello TK, may I come in?”

“Oh!” TK exclaims, feeling himself blush, rushing to answer. “Um, yes, of course. Please come in.”

Gabriel tips his hat at him, taking it off once he steps into the living room, looking around as he stands in the middle of it.

TK fidgets behind him quietly as Gabriel’s gaze pauses on his little nest on the couch before turning to look at him, his lips twitching as he looks at him up and down. TK follows his gaze, his face growing hotter as he remembers that he’s wearing one of Carlos’ old APD shirts and sweats, both a little too big for him.

“Carlos is at the market,” he blurts out, feeling off-center as Gabriel studies him. “He said he was gonna make chicken tortilla soup?”

“Sopa Azteca?” Gabriel questions with a smile. “His mama would make it for him when he wasn’t feeling well as a kid. He better make the tortillas fresh, or Andrea will have words with him if she finds out.”

TK chuckles, feeling some of the tension leaving his body. “Carlos makes pasta from scratch because from a box is a crime – his words. Pretty sure he feels the same about store-bought tortillas.”

Gabriel huffs, his amused expression letting TK know he’s familiar with the argument. “His mama will be proud. Those two take cooking very seriously.”

TK lets out a snort at the understatement. “Oh, I know. I’m not the greatest in the kitchen, and as a result, he doesn’t let me in there without supervision.”

Gabriel lets out a chuckle at his words, helping TK relax further.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he offers, remembering his manners.

“Water, please.”

TK nods, quickly making his way over to the fridge as Gabriel sits on one of Carlos’ love seats.

“So, TK, how are you feeling?”

TK pulls out two bottles of water, turning back towards the living room. He hands Gabriel one of them before sitting across from him, trying to tidy up his blankets. “I’m okay. I had a headache for the first day, and I’m still a little banged up, but mostly I’m fine.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Gabriel tells him. Silence settles over them after that. TK picks at a loose thread of the blanket as he tries to think of what to speak about. Noticing this, Gabriel puts him out of his misery. “So you’re probably wondering why I’m here?”

“Yes – no,” TK stumbles over his words. “I mean, this is your son’s home. I’m sure Carlos has told you,  you are welcomed any time you want to come over.”

“But you’re surprised I’m still here when he’s not,” Gabriel finishes for him with a grin.

TK gives him a shrug, not bothering to correct the man when he’s right. He is curious.

“I came to tell him that the case against him is officially closed, and he’s been taken off suspension,” Gabriel informs him, pausing when TK lets out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank god,” he says with a smile of his own at the good news. “I’m glad that’s settled.”

“Me too,” Gabriel answers before shaking his head softly. “I’m just glad my son’s tender heart didn’t cost him this time,” he finishes with a half-smile, looking at TK like he’s waiting for him to agree. Instead, TK frowns at the words and the tone with which they are said.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he questions, feeling his hackles rise as the man gives him a confused look.

“It means that he’s lucky it worked out in his favor,” Gabriel frowns back at him. “It could have blown up in his face if he had been wrong.”

“But he wasn’t wrong,” TK shoots back tightly, his skin feeling tight with irritation. He recalls Carlos’ face as he told him everything that had gone down between him and his father, his hushed words as he confided that even though his father said he was proud of him in the end, he didn’t entirely feel it was true. He remembers his boyfriend’s hurt face, and it makes him angry.

“TK, this could have gone really badly for him,” Gabriel argues, his frown deepening.

“Yeah,” TK agrees sarcastically. “If he hadn’t trusted his instincts, if he hadn’t led with his kind heart, that man would have blown up. Not could have, would have. I spent time with the psychos that strapped the bomb to that victim; they killed one of their own right in front of us. They would have set that bomb off if Carlos arrested him, killing that poor man, Carlos, and his partner. Carlos’ compassion saved them all, as well as my team and me. And here you are acting like it’s a weakness, a failing of his, when if more cops were like Carlos, then maybe the public wouldn’t have to take to the streets every other week in this country,” he finishes hotly, all but shouting by the end.

He’s breathing hard as he tries to rein in his anger. Looking over at the older man, he finds him looking stunned.

“Well – “ Gabriel clears his throat. “You certainly have strong opinions.”

TK closes his eyes for a moment, taking a long slow breath and then another. “I would apologize,” he starts, his voice calmer even if the rest of him isn’t. “But I’m not sorry,” he says bluntly, pressing his lips together. “Your son is incredible, as a person and as a cop. I’m not saying that because I’m his boyfriend. I work with Carlos. I see how good he is at his job, and a big part of that comes from being one of the most compassionate people I have ever met.”

Gabriel says nothing to that. Instead, he watches him, studying him, and even though TK knows he should probably stop now, he has one more thing to say and can’t hold it back.

“I love your son, Sir,” he says quietly, his heart beating so loud it echos in his ears. “I love him, and I have made it my job to protect and defend him from anything and anyone who would cause him pain, and if that includes you too, so be it.”

Gabriel opens his mouth, and TK braces himself for his response, only for the door to open again as Carlos walks in.

“Babe, I found those tangerines you like on sale,” he says with a smile, stopping short when he sees they’re not alone. “Dad?” he questions, shooting him a look. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Gabriel looks at him for a moment before standing up and turning towards Carlos. “I came to let you know the investigation’s done and stayed to talk to TK for a bit.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Carlos smiles softly, first at his dad and then over at him. TK tries to return it, but the conversation he’s just finished makes it difficult. Carlos gives him a questioning look, but TK turns his focus back to Gabriel when he clears his throat. 

“Well, I should get going,” he says, focusing on his son. “Your mother is making ribs tonight, and you know I don’t like to be late to those.” 

Carlos nods, giving his father a slight nod, but his attention is still on him.

“TK – ” Gabriel starts, and TK braces himself. “It was...interesting talking to you. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Carlos raises an eyebrow at that, the questions clear on his face.

“You boys have a good evening,” Gabriel finishes as he heads for the door. He stops by Carlos and claps his shoulder. “We’ll talk later, mijo.”

“Yes, sir,” Carlos nods, holding the door for his father, closing it behind him. He turns back towards him, brow still raised. “Wanna tell me what happened here?”

“I may have told your dad off?” he says hesitantly, letting out a groan when Carlos’ eyes widen at his words. “Oh my god, I told your dad off,” he repeats, mostly to himself as what he’s just done catches up with him. He drops his head into his hands and lets out another whine. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Carlos moves; TK can hear him walking towards the kitchen, placing the groceries on the counter before making his way over to TK. He feels the couch dip next to him with Carlos’ weight, but he doesn’t look up at him. He only lifts his head when Carlos places a hand on his neck and gives it a comforting squeeze. 

“He’s gonna hate me now and tell you to break up with me,” he tells Carlos, only half-joking, dread quickly spreading through him.

“My dad doesn’t hate anyone. I’m not sure he knows how, and he sure as hell will not hate the man I love,” Carlos answers thoughtfully. “But even if he did, I’m not going to break up with you because my parents want me to. You’re stuck with me, baby.”

TK smiles, letting out a huff of laughter as Carlos smiles back at him.

“Tell me what happened,” he asks softly, taking TK’s hands in his.

TK leans back on the couch, letting out a sigh before he speaks. He starts from the beginning of Gabriel’s visit and how awkward it felt. He’s honest about what he said, giving Carlos’ hand a squeeze when he makes a face at his dad’s words. He bites down on his bottom lip as he recalls his reaction, feeling embarrassed by his outburst but even now not feeling sorry about it. He meant what he said; he’s going to do his best to protect Carlos, even if it means from his own family. Wrapping up, he holds his breath as Carlos stares at him, mouth open and eyes wide.

“You really did that,” he whispers, his disbelief clear; it makes TK cringe.

“Yeah,” he whispers back, remorse slowly starting to set in. So much for Carlos’ parents liking him. “Fuck, Carlos, I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help it. He started talking, and I saw red – “

TK stops explaining. He can’t speak when he basically has a lap full of Carlos. His boyfriend all but crawling into it as he wraps his arms around his shoulders and hugs him for dear life. TK instinctively hugs him back just as hard. His hold tightening when he feels Carlos shake.

They stay like that for a few minutes as TK runs his hands up and down Carlos’ back. When Carlos pulls back to look at him, he’s thankfully not crying, but TK can see the emotion in his big brown eyes.

“Thank you,” he says softly, and TK feels overwhelmed by the love he feels for the man in his arms.

“Anytime,” he answers, his voice rough from his own emotions. He takes in the gratitude and love he sees in Carlos’ expression and swallows hard, feeling overwhelmed by it himself. “I love you, Carlos. I’m always going to have your back no matter what. We’re a team.”

Carlos smiles at him. It’s a little wobbly, but it’s tender, and it’s there. “A pretty damn good one too.”

TK grins, a chuckle passing his lips as the tension inside him dissipates at Carlos’ words. “Yeah, we are.”

 ֎֎֎

 Hours later, when they find themselves once again on the couch after filling up on Carlos’ delicious soup, his phone rings.

TK holds his breath as Carlos shows him the ID that says it’s his mother. He doesn’t understand as Carlos speaks rapid Spanish with her, but he lets out the breath trapped in his lungs when Carlos starts to laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he looks over at him.

“Si, Mami, he’s a firecracker,” he says into the phone, his smile teasing when TK looks at him with wide eyes, realizing he is the topic of conversation. “I’ll ask him and get back to you, okay?” he says to his mother, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Okay, I’ll call you back–love you too, Mami.”

Carlos hangs up the phone. He doesn’t speak for a moment. Instead, he throws his head back on the couch and lets out a chuckle. TK waits despite being on pins and needles.

“Dad told my mom about your conversation,” he starts, lifting his head to look back at him with a smile that is both surprised and happy. “They’re both impressed with my protective boyfriend, and mom is feeling left out on getting to know you,” Carlos continues with a twinkle in his eye, his smile only growing as TK stares at him. “So she’s inviting us to dinner at the house this weekend if you would like to go.”

“They don’t hate me?” TK can’t help but ask, shocked at the request.

Carlos’ expression goes soft at his question. He leans in, giving him a gentle kiss. “Hate someone who obviously loves their son?” he questions, shaking his head. “No, baby, my dad doesn’t hate you, and my mom sounds like she’s ready to adopt you into the family,” he continues with a quirk of his mouth. “How do you feel about being a Reyes?”

TK blushes at the question. He knows it’s said in jest, but he can’t help the way his heart speeds up at the thought of him sharing Carlos’ last name.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” he answers honestly with a small smile of his own when he hears Carlos’ breath catch. “In the near future,” he finishes with a shrug he pretends is casual.

“In the near future,” Carlos repeats, amazement coloring his words. He looks at him for a moment before shaking his head, the smile on his face bright and beautiful. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You do that,” he answers smartly. He gives Carlos a kiss on the cheek before he cuddles back into his side. “We should get a pie from that bakery we like on Winston for dessert.”

“Is that yes to dinner?” Carlos questions into the side of his face.

“Of course,” he answers, his focus on the tv even though his heart is racing. “If I’m going to be a Reyes someday, I should probably make nice with the in-laws.”

He feels Carlos smile against his skin. “Not nervous?”

TK lets out a snort, turning his face to look at his boyfriend. “Scared shitless,” he says with a wry grin, but it softens after a second. “But you’ll be there, and I can handle anything with you by my side.”

Carlos smiles at him. He leans in, pressing his forehead against his. “We’re a team.”

[cheapthrillsbeca]

how about #11?

11. “I thought I would be okay with just being friends but… All I can think of when I’m around you is how badly I want to kiss you and how I can’t do that anymore.”

This is how it starts: with a heat-of-the-moment kiss backstage after the USO tour, when Beca pulls Chloe to her because she just can’t take it anymore. 

Because there’s been this tension building between them for years and Beca’s sick of Jesses and Chicagos getting in the way of figuring out what, exactly, it means.

So she closes her eyes and jumps off the cliff head-first, reeling Chloe in by her hand and covering her mouth with her own. Time freezes and Beca hangs there, suspended, for a single terrifying second before Chloe kisses her back.

She crash lands, then, and keeps crashing, over and over, as Chloe threads her fingers into Beca’s hair, traces along the shell of her ear, hitches Beca’s leg around her hip, pulling her up onto her toes.  

***

Beca is the kind of person who finds comfort in heading down a known path. She sets goals and lays plans and, while she’s willing to deviate from them when it makes sense, she generally knows where she’ll end up.

Tonight, she knows where she’s going when Chloe links their fingers together and pulls Beca to a taxi, to the hotel elevator, to Beca’s own room. 

She knows where it’s going when Chloe walks her backwards until her thighs bump against the bed. 

She knows where it’s going when Chloe helps her shimmy out of her skirt, when Chloe’s boots land heavily somewhere on the carpeted floor.

She knows where it’s going when Chloe’s mouth scorches a wet trail down her body, when all Beca can do is fist her hand in Chloe’s hair and try her best to be quiet. 

So yeah, she knows where it’s going. 

But she doesn’t know where it will lead.

***

This is where it leads: to love bites and sore muscles and sated, sleepy smiles.

To a heady few weeks of awe-stuck happiness. Back in New York, back in their apartment where they’re now free to share their bed exactly as they’d like, thanks to Amy jetting off somewhere before coming home. 

Beca still doesn’t know what this is, but she knows that this is exactly what it’s meant to feel like. 

They spend full days in bed, and when their empty stomachs can’t be ignored they venture out onto dark streets for slices of pizza or cartons of Chinese food or chicken and rice from Beca’s favorite food truck. They sleep tangled up together, even when it’s sticky out and their feeble air conditioner can’t muster more than a cool breeze. They keep their phones on Do Not Disturb and sit together in the bath, Beca leaning back against Chloe and closing her eyes, trying her best to commit every sensation to memory.

Because three weeks are almost up and she’s worked it out; she knows where it will lead, now.

Soon, it leads to emails and voicemails that can’t be ignored.

It leads to signed contracts and packed bags and an ambiguous goodbye.

It leads to missed FaceTimes and unsatisfying phone calls and this heavy feeling in Beca’s chest, like she’s trying to give a part of herself to too many people and disappointing everyone.

***

This is how it ends: with two short texts letting her off the hook.

Chloe [10:03 p.m.]: it’s okay, becs

Chloe [10:03 p.m.]: we tried

***

(Beca isn’t sure she wanted to be let off the hook.)

(She isn’t sure what they were trying for, either. Or that she tried her best.)

(The only thing she’s sure of is that she’s never felt worse.)

***

Eventually, it gets better. Gets easier.

They go back to being friends. 

And it works, for a while. Because Beca’s traveling a lot now and it’d be impossible to see Chloe in this stage of her new life, but it helps to know she’s there, at the other end of the phone.

It’s for the best, she tells herself.

***

(It’s a lie.)

***

This is where it comes to a head: in the upstairs bathroom of Beca’s rented house, during the after-after party to celebrate her album release.

She’d invited the Bellas to come out a few days early to hang out in LA and of course they all agreed -- even Amy, who’s living in Saint Tropez now, apparently.

Even Chloe.

Chloe, who Beca knows has been trying her very best to act like everything is okay between them. 

Chloe, who pretended not to notice that Beca hugged her for a little too long or, once she finally pulled away, that her gaze dropped to Chloe’s lips. 

Chloe, who must have known that Beca was following her up the stairs, because when she walks into the bathroom she doesn’t bother to shut the door.

Beca steps inside the small room and closes the door behind her, stands there with the doorknob pressing into her back. She watches Chloe, who’s at the vanity, palms flat on the marble countertop as she stares down at the sink.

The silence stretches on and on, and Beca doesn’t know how they’ll ever get past it.

Then Chloe makes a quiet sound -- something between a whimper and a sob -- and it cuts through Beca like a knife. Beca rushes over and tugs on her wrist until Chloe turns around to face her. Her eyes are wet, and the knife twists in Beca’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe says, tensing her jaw and glancing up at the ceiling. “I thought I would be okay with just being friends but… All I can think of when I’m around you is how badly I want to kiss you and how I can’t do that anymore.”

And Beca gets that feeling again, like time has frozen, or like she’s watching this moment unfold from afar, like it’s happening to someone else.

Because she should be the one apologizing. The one saying those words. The one confessing how she feels.

It hits her then, out of nowhere. 

She always knew what this was.

She always knew where they’d end up.

She just didn’t know she knew it. Her mind’s fun like that, sometimes.

Beca steps in and cradles Chloe’s face in her hands. She rubs her thumbs across her cheeks, smoothing the tears away.

“What if we could, though?” she asks softly. 

“Beca…” Chloe lets out a shuddering breath. “We can’t. It’s too hard,” she says, even as her hands land on Beca’s waist. “We- we tried.” 

“I should’ve tried harder,” Beca whispers. She rests her forehead against Chloe’s, eyes squeezed shut. “I was so dumb, baby, I didn’t know. But I can try harder, okay? I promise. Let me try?”

Beca can tell Chloe’s silently warring within herself, struggling with what to do next. Her body betrays her, though, because her arms close around Beca, pulling her closer.

“You didn’t know what?”

And that’s when Beca starts to cry. She holds Chloe against her as she tells her all the things she didn’t know, saving the one chief among them for last. 

When she’s done Chloe doesn’t move a muscle, doesn’t take a breath, doesn’t make a sound. 

(Beca’s plummeting again, down, down, down.)

Then, with a sharp inhale, Chloe tilts her head to the side and finds Beca’s lips. Their cheeks are wet and they’re both trembling, but Beca thinks it’s the best kiss she’s ever had.

It feels like a beginning.

***

She knows where it’s going, now.

She knows where it will lead.

***

(She can’t fucking wait to get there.)

***

This is how it really starts: with Beca’s voice breaking as she reaches the last item on her long list of confessions.

“I didn’t know I was so desperately in love with you, Chlo.”

[arvandus]

Touch (pt 9) - Amity

PAIRING: Dabi x Fem!Reader

STORY WARNINGS: 18+ only please!  Drug abuse/withdrawal, adult language/themes, heavy angst, past trauma/abuse, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, fluff, pining, slow burn, eventual emotional SMUT. *please pay attention to the chapter tags as these warnings will apply at different times*

CHAPTER WARNINGS: talk of killing, blood, needle/medical sewing; pining... lots of resistant pining.  Typical sensory overload due to quirk use.

CHAPTER SONG: Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish

Part 1   Part 8

Artwork credit to @hellowon31 on Twitter (https://twitter.com/hellowon31)

Part 9: Amity

Between your second night in a row of poor sleep and waking up incredibly early, it didn’t take long for exhaustion to find you again.  By mid-day your sensory overload had subsided enough that you collapsed into your bed, dreamless sleep dragging you under instantly.  It was short-lived, however; it felt like no sooner had your head hit the pillow, that a knock on your door roused you groggily from your slumber.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you stood up and answered the door to see Toga standing in front of you, a bloodied washcloth held to her temple.

“Oh my god, what happened to you??” you exclaimed, as you let her into your room.

“I was out running some errands and a thug tried to jump me in an alleyway.” Toga replied cheerfully. She halted in her tracks.  “Oh… aren’t you still sick with the flu?”  She instantly covered her mouth and nose with her free hand, taking a step back.

“Huh? Oh!” you exclaimed. Right.  Crap. You forgot about that little white lie.  “Sorry, hang on a sec.”  You quickly went to your medical bag and pulled out a white disposable mask, placing it over your face.  “Is that better?” You asked, your voice muffled.

The tension in Toga’s shoulders instantly left, her posture easing as her hand dropped away from her face. “Yeah, thanks.  Are you feeling okay?  I could try to do this myself this time…”

You balked at the thought of Toga treating her own injuries.

“I’m fine right now, I promise.” You replied. 

The blonde shrugged and fully entered your space, although her folded hands in front of her body communicated she didn’t want to touch anything.

“So, a guy jumped you in an alley?” You asked.

“Yeah.  He was big, too.  And had a quirk that gave him extra reach on his arms.”  Toga explained.

You weren’t quite sure what sort of errands required Toga to be in alleyways, but you had a feeling none of them were good. The curiosity pulled at you - you could feel the question on your lips, but you swallowed it down.  When you had first joined the League, you and Shigaraki had discussed the importance of compartmentalizing your role from the others.  You were the only one out of the group who was defenseless after all, so as the weakest link within the League, you had both decided it would be best if you knew as little of the League’s affairs as possible, in case you ever got captured and questioned.  You were allowed to participate in general discussions regarding the League’s next moves and what areas were important to you that you wanted to focus on, but the nitty gritty details were kept separate: private meetings with other villains, locations, times, that sort of thing.  So, despite your curiosity, you knew not to pry.

Instead, you asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “but I can’t get this to stop bleeding.”

“Let’s take a look.” You gingerly removed the cloth from the wound to see a deep gash in the skin before new blood filled up. You placed the washcloth back over the wound before it could spill over.  “Hm. Better keep that on there.  You’re going to need stitches.”

“I figured.” She grinned. She took over holding the cloth to her head while you grabbed your medical bag.  You escorted her into your bathroom and had her sit on the toilet seat. Her outfit was speckled with blood, some of it from her wound, and, you suspected, some of it not.

“So…” you started, as you washed your hands in the sink. “What happened to the thug?”

“I drained him.” She replied cheerfully.  The casualness of her statement filled you with a confusing mixture of fear and pity.

“You killed him?” you asked, as you prepped your needle and thread.

Toga looked at you with her yellow feline-like eyes.  “He would have killed me if I didn’t.”

“Tilt your head back.” You instructed.  Toga did as you said, and you carefully removed the cloth before placing your fingers over her open wound. She winced slightly at the contact, but quickly relaxed as your quirk soaked in. 

Silence filled the room as you cleaned her wound with antiseptic and set to work.  The heavy quiet dragged on as your mind mulled over the girl next to you.  You had a thousand questions in your mind, but none of them seemed very appropriate to ask, not without upsetting her.  And despite your good standing with the League, you made it a careful point not to get on anyone’s bad side.  It wasn’t so much that you didn’t trust them, although a part of you was always wary around those who were willing to commit violence.  But you also understood on a personal level that the problems these villains had went far deeper than society was willing to acknowledge.  Mental illness, quirkology, environment… all of it played a role in dealing the hand that these outcast individuals had been dealt.

Minutes passed as you stitched up the cut and cleaned the blood from the sealed wound once more. You were washing your hands when Toga finally spoke, her voice soft.  “Are you mad at me?”

You paused to look down at her.  Her brow was furrowed, her mouth pulled into a sulky frown as she stared at her hands. She looked like a child waiting to be scolded, and in that moment, you could see how young she still was.  You gave a soft sigh.  “Of course not.  He attacked you, right? You had to defend yourself.”

You paused then followed up with, “I’m sorry you had to do it.”

“Don’t be…” she replied. “I liked killing him.”

Your hands faltered as you began putting away your supplies and Toga noticed. 

“You don’t like it, do you?” she asked, accusation lacing her voice. She was defensive, waiting for your judgement. 

You couldn’t blame her. No doubt her quirk was something she likely struggled with all of her life before finally giving in to it.  She had never given you her story directly, but it wasn’t hard to guess.  Everything about her – from her ramblings to her actions - spoke of a caged animal who finally got a taste of freedom and refused to be captured.

Contradicting feelings warred within you, and you struggled to wrangle them.  You had to admit, you hated the idea of her killing.  More importantly, you knew that her victims weren’t always street thugs, villains, or corrupted heroes.  But at the same time, despite this uncomfortable fact, you also understood how strongly quirks affected behavior, how it could act like a poison, messing with the mind and forcing its way into being expressed.  It wasn’t the first time you’d seen it; you understood it intimately.

You looked down at her and a familiar sense of pity unfurled in your gut, snaking into your veins, pulling at your emotions even as your core roiled at the idea of needless violence. She was just like him... a victim in her own way, despite the horrific things she did.

“You think I’m a monster.” Her words cut through your thoughts, and your attention refocused on her. She had her knees hugged up to her chest, her feet propped on the closed toilet lid that she occupied.  You mentally scolded yourself for abandoning her as you got lost in your head and crouched down next to her.

“No.  I don’t think you’re a monster.” You answered soothingly.

“Then why do you look scared of me?” Toga demanded. 

You gave her a smile that you hoped reached your eyes. She was more perceptive than you gave her credit for sometimes.  You had to choose your words carefully. 

“I’m not scared of you.” You explained.  “ But I am a healer, Toga. I see someone who’s hurt, and I want to take that pain away.  It’s what my quirk is. It’s a part of who I am and it’s what motivates me. So, I won’t deny that it’s hard for me sometimes to understand why you do what you do because it’s so opposite of how I am.”

Toga averted her eyes, her body tightening in on itself.

“But…” you continued as you placed a hand on her forearm, “I’m not scared of you.  And even though you do monstrous things, I don’t think you’re a monster.”

Toga slowly lowered her knees, letting her feet touch the floor as she stared at you.  “Why not?” she asked.

“Because,” you replied, “You still care about people.  You and Twice were the first to welcome and befriend me when I joined the League. And the way you take care of Twice… like he’s your big brother… that counts for something.  You even care about Dabi, even though he’s an ass. That was why you checked on him that night, right?  You treat each of us like family.  Now why would a monster do that?”

“But I still want to cut you guys all the time…” she confessed.

“I know.  But you don’t.  That should count for something.”

Toga smiled at you with teary eyes.  “You’re so nice, big sis.”  Her compliment made you smile. 

Toga hopped of the toilet with a nimble bounce, signaling the end of the conversation.  “Am I all done?”

You nodded.  “You’re free to go.” You announced.  Toga made her way to your bedroom door, but she halted when you called her name.  “Toga… don’t forget to change your clothes.”

Toga looked down at the bloodstains splattered across her school uniform.  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.  Thanks, big sis!”

She left your room with a jovial wave.  As soon as the door closed behind her, you slumped down onto your bed as you removed the white mask from your face and placed it on your nightstand.  Exhaustion washed over you again, deeper this time than it was before.  It wasn’t even so much due to your quirk since you didn’t have to use very much of it this time.  Instead, your mind focused on Toga, replaying the conversation.  It filled you with a swath of competing emotions; pity, anger, frustration, helplessness, fear.  The feelings swirled in you making a rank stew in your soul, old and familiar.

This was just like before.

You shoved the feelings aside, unwilling to look too closely at them. You already had enough on your plate as it was… you didn’t want to dredge up more of the past.  It would only add more stress and it wouldn’t change anything.

You laid down again in the hopes that this time, finally, your sleep would be nightmare free and uninterrupted.

 * * * * *

The withdrawal-induced restlessness Dabi felt lasted throughout the day, making sleep near impossible.  To keep himself from going crazy, he forced his energy into cleaning up his space, despite his typical disdain for chores.  He straightened up his desk, took out the trash, and most importantly, did his laundry. It was overflowing and stank of mildew, and he was in desperate need of clean towels.  His bed was no better, reeking of sweat and infection and covered in chip crumbs. But while his body appreciated the movement, the lack of mental power the activities required did little to distract from intrusive, obsessive thoughts.

He wasn’t sure which thoughts he wanted to avoid more - thoughts of his family or thoughts of you.  The memories of family were old and familiar, but the emotions in them were raw, threatening to suck him in and shred him to pieces like it’d already done so many times before.  But thoughts of you weren’t much better, at least not to Dabi. He didn’t like the warmth he felt each time he thought of you, and yet he kept going back to that feeling, like opening the fridge to stare at that last piece of cake.  He was at war with himself, and he didn’t know how to fight it.

Somehow, with all of his coming and going from his room, he somehow managed to never run into you. He wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing or not, but like all other uncomfortable thoughts, his forced himself not to focus on it.  It shouldn’t be important.  You shouldn’t be important.  His mouth pressed into a thin line.  The number of times he had to tell himself that were becoming too many to count, and it never did seem to make much difference.  

The cleaning only occupied him for so long.  Towards the end of it he found himself sitting in his room, waiting for his clothes to finish drying so he could retrieve them.  He had laid back on his bed just for a moment, to stare at his phone. He woke up an hour and a half later, his mind muddled with jumbled dreams and memories.  Cigarette smoke, a child’s laughter, the sound of himself screaming in agony…

He shook his head to knock the unwanted fog from his brain and grabbed a smoke to soothe the shaking in his hands.  The cigarette was gone within a minute.  The haze still lingered though as every inch of Dabi’s nerves hummed and his gut clenched in discomfort.  So, he inhaled a second cigarette for good measure and followed it up with an electrolyte drink paired with a couple of antacids.  His laundry was likely done now; no point in letting it sit there and risk another League member touching his things.

With the laundry dry and sitting on his bed in a crumpled heap, he stared at the contents, a frown on his face.  Your towels were mingled with his, and the sight of it filled him with an uneasiness that had little to do with his withdrawal.  It looked entirely alien to him, intrusive in his personal space.  His stomach gave a weird flutter before giving way to a wave of nausea.

Stupid, he thought to himself.  They’re just fucking towels.

He began folding the first towel. It was half-assed in its effort and one hundred percent intentional, as if giving careful care to your items would give away something about himself he wanted to keep secret.  But even as he did so, intrusive curiosity crept into his mind.  How did you fold your towels?

Idiot.  He caught his wandering mind and reeled it back in forcefully, but it did little good. His mind was a master escape artist, running away to explore other unwanted thoughts without his permission as soon as his mental back was turned.

As he folded your items, his hands slowed slightly in their actions, taking in the feel of cotton on his fingers. He watched as he rolled the soft material between his thumb and forefinger while memories bubbled forth, broken and vague.  Waking up in the shower, sitting on the toilet with your towel over his head, feeling of your hands working the cotton over his wet hair. He tried not to think of your face, but of course not wanting it made it appear in his mind.  He remembered your eyes, the concern in them, and the memory filled him with a warmth that he was still struggling to understand, even as he tried to deny its presence. 

It was short-lived – the memory of your tender gaze soon faded away to a terrified one, and now he was remembering your scar.  A new thought came into his mind then, dark and plaguing. The look of fear you’d given him that night - did you wear that same frightened expression on your face when you were burned, marked by whatever asshole laid their hands on you?

Dabi could feel his body temperature begin to rise.

The last towel was folded, and he swiftly grabbed the pile and shoved it on top of his dresser as if were contaminated.  Contaminated with memories, contaminated with you…

He faltered for a moment, his anger disrupted by that strange sense of guilt that gnawed at him.  The unwelcome mental picture of you cowering in fear as flames licked your skin danced in his imagination.  No wonder you had been so utterly terrified of him that night. No wonder you’d been unable to look him in the eyes the next day…

Dabi caught himself staring at your things and forced himself to turn around to finish his laundry. He folded his clothes swiftly, not caring whether or not they were done nicely before shoving them into the dresser drawer. Then, with his clean towels in his arm, he went into the bathroom to give himself that much-needed shower.

 * * * * *

You woke up feeling groggier than usual as the orange-red glow of the late afternoon haze filtered into your room. As predicted, your sleep was restless and riddled with hazy uncomfortable dreams that instantly began to fade away as soon as you opened your eyes.  You sighed in annoyance as dissatisfaction slinked across your tired skin. It was as if you had slept the entire time with your body tensed, ready to run at a moment’s notice, and now you were feeling the effects. 

You got out of bed with a stretch to ease the stiffness in your muscles.  Maybe something to eat and drink could lift your spirits and wake your body up.  You slipped on your shoes and opened the door before remembering to grab your mask off of your nightstand.  Then, you left your room to trudge downstairs.

The smell of pizza greeted you as soon as you stepped out onto the main floor, and your stomach growled in response, your mouth watering.

“Y/N!” Toga cheered. “Did you take a nap?”

You frowned as your hand self-consciously went to your messy hair. Was it really that obvious?

“Yeah, I was pretty tired.” You confessed, as you tried to fix your stray strands.

“Are you feeling any better?” Magne asked.  You could tell she was asking about the ‘flu’ you were supposed to have.

You shrugged. “Yeah, a little…”

“And how about Dabi? You were treating him too, right?” Magne continued.

You felt embarrassment bubble in you, and you scratched at your cheek as a distraction.  “He’s doing okay… I think it’s hitting him harder, though. He’s probably going to need some more time to recover.”

“He came down here yesterday without a mask and everything.” Spinner grumbled. “Then decided to take a stroll.  He couldn’t be that bad, could he?”

You shrugged. “Stomach bugs are weird and vary from person to person.”

Shigaraki’s voice surprised you from behind.  “How’s his burn?”

He knew about that…?  Maybe Dabi said something the day before.  Either way, no point in lying about it now…

“It’s doing well... but it’s not completely healed yet.”

Shigaraki grunted and grabbed a slice of pizza from the open box sitting on the bar.

“Hey, Y/N!  You want some pizza?” Twice offered.

“Yes, that’d be-“

“She can’t eat pizza when she has the flu!” Toga scolded.  “She might throw it up.  She needs something simple!”

Your heart sank.  No pizza??

“No, it’s okay…” you started, your eyes staring at the perfect slice.

“I’ll go make you something, okay big sis?” Toga chirped as she bounded lightly towards the small kitchen behind the bar.

Oh… oh no….

“Oh, um… it’s okay Toga, I’m not really hungry…” you tried to call after her, but she was already gone and out of earshot.

You fiddled with your hands nervously.  Cooking was not one of Toga’s strong suits.  Fortunately, Kurogiri was present, watching the exchange.

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t burn down the kitchen.” He commented, as he followed after her.

You stood there awkwardly, strongly contemplating grabbing the entire pizza box and running away with it. But you’d just had that personal exchange with Toga earlier, so abandoning her when she was trying to do something nice for you probably wouldn’t go over well.

Damn it.  You were too nice for your own good sometimes.

On defeated feet, you walked over to the couch and sat down next to Compress who was reading a book. He put the item down as you sat next to him and gave you a smile.  “How nice of you to grace me with your company, little flower.”

You crossed your arms and sulked into the couch cushions, wishing they would swallow you up.  “Toga is cooking for me.”

“Oh dear, so I heard.” He commented.  “However, Kurogiri is supervising her.  Perhaps this time it won’t be so bad.”

“Kurogiri doesn’t eat.” You pointed out.

“True,” he laughed. “But perhaps you set your standards too high.  I never said he’d ensure that the food is good; however, his assistance may ensure that it is edible.”

“Don’t you use logic on me, Mr.” you replied, even as you tried to suppress a smile.

“Then perhaps a magic trick then?” he offered.  “As a distraction.”

“Sure.” You grinned.

A few minutes later, Toga came out with two steaming bowls sitting on a rectangular tray.

“Oh good! You’re still here!” Toga smiled.  “I made you soup!”

You stifled a groan as you stood up and stared at the contents.  It… didn’t look bad…. It looked like it was canned soup at least, which, all things considered, were one of the simplest things to make. Still, it had that a slight burned odor to it when the steam reached your nose.

“Why are there two bowls?” you asked.

“Oh!  One’s for you and one’s for Dabi.”  Toga explained.  Behind her, Magne chuckled at the table.  “He hasn’t come down to eat yet today so he’s probably hungry.”

“It was my suggestion.” Kurogiri stated.  “You are still sick after all, so it would be in the League’s interest if you and Dabi had your meals in your rooms until you are no longer contagious.”

“Maybe it can be like a little dinner date!” Toga added.

You fought the flush of hot heat that seemed to take over your insides.  “A what?”

The last thing you needed was the League thinking you and Dabi were dating.

The blonde girl giggled as she handed you the tray.  Her hands instantly went up to her hot cheeks, her eyes glazed over with infatuation. “What I wouldn’t give to have a private dinner date with Izuku!”

“Oh geez, not this again…” Spinner grumbled.

“Hey!” Toga shot at him.  “It’s rude to tease a girl in love!”

You were grateful that Toga was easily distracted, and you took the opportunity to make your escape. “O-Okay. I guess I’ll go take this upstairs then… Thank you, Toga.” You mumbled.

You walked out of the room quickly, the soup sloshing in the bowls and threatening to spill.  But you wanted to get out of there before things got even more awkward.  Toga wasn’t even the real concern – the real concern was Magne.  Her chuckle had not gone unnoticed by you, and she was a master conversationalist when she wanted to be.  The last thing you needed was more intrusive questions or implied statements, especially with everyone there to listen in.

You took the stairs instead of the elevator, not trusting the old rust bucket to run smooth enough with bowls of hot soup in front of you.

Dinner date.  You wanted to laugh.  Dabi certainly wasn’t the type to do dinner dates.  In fact, Dabi probably didn’t even date. He probably just hooked up with random girls whenever he felt like it.

Your stomach tightened into an uncomfortable knot.

It didn’t matter.  You weren’t his type anyway.  And he shouldn’t be yours, not with all of his baggage. And boy, did he seem to have a lot of baggage.  Besides, he didn’t need the pressure of someone pining over him while he struggled to keep himself together.  He needed someone he could trust.  He needed a friend.

You felt yourself start to calm as you centered yourself on that single fact.  He needed a friend. You could do that.  You’d already committed yourself to it.

You made it to your own room and set the tray on the floor outside your door so you could go in and grab your medical bag.  If you were going to take soup to Dabi, then you might as well treat his wounds and give him his pills.  It was about time for it anyway.  With your bag slung onto your shoulder and the tray once again in your hand, you went over to his door and knocked.

It opened and you froze, eyes wide, as a warm humid air wrapped you up in the scent of shampoo and body wash.

Dabi stood before you in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that left little to the imagination.  Shit. It hadn’t even been a full five seconds and you were already staring at his crotch.  Hot embarrassment flooded you as you averted your eyes, only to get stuck on his glistening, bare form.  You’d seen him shirtless many times, had your hands on his body, even… but something about this moment was different.  Maybe it was the shower.  Maybe it was the simple - yet absolutely sinful - sweatpants.  Or maybe it was how he seemed to be carrying himself in this moment, like he was the king of his domain.  He was a living art piece, every angle of him stunning from the slope of his shoulders to the cut of his lean waist. Even his stitches looked beautiful, the light bouncing off of them like gems.  Whatever it was, Dabi seemed to be a thousand times hotter than you remember him being, and it left your brain feeling dumb as hot desire washed over you.

You were staring.  You knew you were staring but you couldn’t break the trance he seemed to put you in. Your eyes took in the cut of his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips.   Aqua blue eyes stared at you in knowing amusement, grabbing you like the tide and pulling you in.  You could feel yourself floundering beneath his intense gaze as you struggled to get a hold of yourself.

“Uh…” you stuttered.

You were still staring.

“Hey, Doll­…” He greeted, a playful grin on his lips.  His voice washed over you, and you felt lightheaded.

This was so embarrassing.  If he had any doubts that you found him attractive before, then he certainly didn’t now.

“Hi.” You said dumbly.

His eyes broke contact with yours to look down.  “Hey-” His hand shot out to quickly grab the tilting tray, soup splashing messily over the sides of the bowls.

“Shit! Sorry, sorry.” You cursed, as you adjusted your hold. You kept your eyes down, unable to stare at him any longer.  “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” 

Was that a chuckle you heard in his voice?  How dare he.

You crossed the threshold, only to find yourself even more smothered by the clean scent of his recent shower that permeated the entire space like a fog.  Beneath it, the faint hint of cigarette smoke was present, but it was muted.  The light in the room was dimmer than you remembered and you realized why – he had put one of his shirts over his shoddy lamp, reducing its brightness.  The humid warmth in the room was paired with a strange heavy silence.  Your eyes instantly checked his window and there was no billow of the curtains this time, no street noise coming forth.  Your breath froze in your throat for a moment as you realized – he remembered.  All the things that had bothered you this morning were modified for your arrival.  A weightlessness swelled in your chest, intertwining with the attraction you were still grappling with.  You set the tray down with shaky hands before wiping your sweaty palms onto your pants.

Dabi came to stand next to you with his towel on his shoulder, the warm bare skin of his chest brushing against your arm as he stared down at the bowls.  With his proximity so close and your own emotions running amok, it took every ounce of mental fortitude not to hug him right then and there.

“Did you make that?” he asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Oh, uh.. Toga did.” You finally said, as you moved slightly away from his bare skin.

“We should have let the tray fall.”  He stated as he stared at the contents with distaste.  You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, and it helped clear some of the brain fog.  He gave you a soft glare.  “Why did you even take this?  You should have just said no.”

“Well, not all of us can be as nice as you, Dabi.” You teased.  “Besides, she wanted to do something nice for us because she thinks we’re sick.”  You explained.

“If I eat that I probably will be.” He retorted.

“Oh, come on… it’s probably not that bad… just a little smokiness to it.  That shouldn’t bother you, right?” You put a spoon into a bowl and handed it to him.

He gave you a deadpan look as you held the bowl against his chest, his hands refusing to take it. “I’m not eating it.”

“Hey, if I have to eat this, then so do you.” You glared.

“Like hell.” He replied. “Besides, I already have food here.”

You set the bowl down and stared at the bags on his desk.  “Yes, chips, beef jerky, and cigarettes!  So healthy.”

“The three basic food groups.” He agreed with a grin. He sat down in his desk chair, his legs spread wide as he slouched back.  It took extra effort to not let your eyes wander.  “Tell ya what, doll… you try it first.  If you don’t throw up or die, then maybe I’ll consider eating mine.”

You rolled your eyes at him and grabbed your bowl.  “Fine, you big baby.” 

You filled your spoon and raised it to him in a mock toast before placing it into your mouth.  He watched the motion in silent amusement, his eyes focused on your lips as they closed around the spoon.

It was awful.  Definitely burnt.  And the parts that weren’t burnt were overcooked, making the textures all wrong in your mouth.  You swallowed forcefully, suppressing a gag.

“Mmm… You look like you enjoyed that.”  Dabi teased.

“Hey at least I’ve actually tried it.” You shot back.  “So, I guess that means only one of us is a little bitch.” 

Dabi’s eyes widened, the light in them dancing in amusement, as a grin spread across his face. “You kiss your mother with that mouth, doll?  You’ve been with the League too long.”

You pointed your spoon at him.  “Don’t try to act like you know me.  And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not dead.  So eat up.”  You picked up his bowl again and held it under his nose. By this point, you knew the soup wasn’t really that edible, but now you were determined to have him suffer with you.

The smell wafted up and he wrinkled his nose.  He pushed the bowl away back towards you.  “I don’t think so.”

You narrowed your eyes at him.  “You said you’d try it if I did.”

“I said I’d consider it.”  He replied. “It’s been considered and denied.”

“You’re an ass.” You pouted. “It really is awful though…” you confessed.  “and she had Kurogiri with her, too.  Like… how?”

“Kurogiri doesn’t eat.” Dabi replied.

You laughed.  “That’s what I told Compress!”

Your conversation was interrupted by a loud, hungry rumble in your gut.

A low chuckle rumbled from Dabi’s chest that made your heart pound and your flesh feel warm.  “C’mon doll, don’t torture yourself.” He said. “Why don’t we just go get a bite to eat. There’s nothing keeping us locked up in here.”

Toga’s words echoed in your head.  Dinner date.  Oh geez, if she or Magne saw you two leaving the premises together, you’d never hear the end of it.  The offer was tempting though, and you were pretty sure Dabi was starting to get tired of his snacks.  Junk food could only satisfy for so long; at some point he needed a proper meal.

But something nagged at you as you stared at the man in front of you.  He seemed to be doing okay at first glance… his recent shower certainly seemed to lift his spirits.  But you had been too distracted by his attractiveness earlier that you hadn’t taken the time to really assess him.  Now, you could see the exhaustion still in his face, could see the small wiggle of his leg and the drumming of his fingers on the table.   You checked the time on your phone – no doubt your quirk and the pills were beginning to wear off.  But how far along that was, you couldn’t really say; it was hard to tell with Dabi; he didn’t show his pain very easily.

You knew your appetite would disappear once you pushed yourself into sensory overload.  But Dabi couldn’t wait, even if he might try to play it off that he could.  More importantly, you didn’t want to try to deal with a withdrawal-suffering Dabi out in public. Your heart sank slightly. Goodbye delicious dinner, for the second time that night.

“…I should probably treat you first.” Your eyes landed on his bag of goods as your stomach rumbled again. “But maybe a snack would be good.” You confessed.  You felt embarrassed for asking, especially after the big show you’d just point on… but pride had to take a back seat before your stomach ate itself.

His blue eyes stared at you for a long moment.  You could feel your skin start to prickle under the weight of them.

“Sure, doll.”  He finally said.  He rummaged through one of the bags until he found what he was looking for under a bag of spicy chips.  “Is this your style?”

He tossed you a prepackaged muffin about the size of a softball.  You couldn’t fight the smile that blossomed across your face.  “Yeah, thanks.”  You opened up the wrapping and began breaking off pieces of it.  “You want some?” you offered, holding the muffin towards him.

He shook his head. “Nah.  Don’t feel much like eating.”

You broke off half of the muffin for him anyway.  “I still need to give you your pills, so you should eat something first.  Besides, this is too big for me to finish by myself anyway.” 

Was it a lie?  Of course. You were starving.  Did Dabi know that you were lying?  Of course.  But he took the other half of the muffin anyway.  You sat on the edge of his bed while he sat in his chair as the two of you ate together in silence for a moment. As you ate, your eyes wandered around his room.

That was when you noticed it.

 “Are those my towels?” you asked. 

Dabi looked over at his dresser as he stuffed the last of the muffin into his mouth.  “Yeah.  They’re clean now.”

“Thank you…” you replied. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the details.  “You cleaned up…”

Dabi shrugged. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not a complete slob.”

You stared at him as he began fidgeting with a pack of cigarettes, tapping the box on the table, flipping it over, and tapping the other end.  Over and over it somersaulted, and you wondered if he was craving one right now.  Why didn’t he just take one out and light it up?

Was Dabi… being considerate?

Then again, the action didn’t come as much of a surprise to you as it might have before.  He’d been more willing to do small acts of kindness ever since the night of his withdrawal.  Bringing ramen.  Adjusting his room for your sensory overload.

Now this.

Was it fueled by guilt? Or did he actually care?

He looked like he was waiting for something.  You watched as he rubbed at his scarred arm with his free hand, irritation flashing across his eyes.  Of course. He was waiting for you and your quirk. You ate your muffin faster.  As soon as it had disappeared into your mouth, you reached for your bag and took out the pill bottle.  His eyes were on it instantly, the shaking in his leg stilled by the sight of it, his shoulders releasing some of their tension.

“Here.” You offered, handing him his pills.  He took them and swallowed them dry before opening up a beverage and taking a swig.

Dabi eyed the bottle in your hand as you closed it.  “That’s looking awfully low there, isn’t it?”

You put the container back in your bag, enclosing it in a zippered space.  “It’ll be enough to last us through tomorrow morning.”

“That’s cutting it real close, don’tcha think?” he replied.

You looked up to see his brow furrowed in concern and offered him a reassuring smile.  “It is.  But I’ll be picking up the refills tomorrow before our evening session, so there’s nothing to worry about.  Now let’s take a look at your back real quick.”

He stood up and dragged his chair over to where you sat and straddled the seat with his back facing you. The bandage was still on, but you could tell it had gotten wet in the shower.  You’d have to be careful when changing it this time, since the bits of skin that were starting to heal might reopen.

You applied your quirk first around the bandages, then began to delicately remove the wet gauze and tape. Your fingers were cold on Dabi’s skin and a small shiver ran up his spine at the sensation of your touch.  The wound didn’t show any signs of infection or fresh damage, so you continued business as usual, applying the antiseptic followed by fresh gauze.  As you patched him up, your eyes kept drifting to your towels, thinking about what had happened that night.  There was something important you’d been meaning to ask him.  Something you had to know.

“I… have a question.” You ventured.

“Hm?” Dabi responded, his head turning slightly to the sound of your voice.

“The next day… after I helped you out that one night… was there anything… off?  About you specifically?” you asked.

There was a long pause and you could tell Dabi was thinking heavily, which only made the dread in your gut sink in deeper.

“I couldn’t feel anything.” He finally admitted. 

“I’m not talking about the pain.  I’m talking about… I don’t know.  Anything else.”

“I know.” He replied. “When I woke up, I couldn’t feel anything.”

Your brow furrowed and the dread hardened into a stone.  “…what does that mean?”

“It means I didn’t care about a thing, doll.  Everything was turned off.” He was facing away from you and in that moment, you wished he wasn’t – you desperately wanted to see the expression on his face.  Your hands felt clammy as you processed his words.

“You mean your emotions?” you clarified.  You needed to understand more.  You needed to know how bad it was.  “What… did it feel like?”

“Empty.”

You finished putting the last bandage on him but you barely noticed as your vision became unfocused, your thoughts whirling.  Holy shit. You had turned off his emotions?  You supposed in hindsight it made sense, since it was likely his memories and the emotions attached to them that were torturing him that night.  Why else would he have been blabbering incoherent apologies as if he were desperately trying to atone for something? But still… the severity of that made your blood run cold. Emotions were everything, contrary to what some people might think. They fuel how people think, how they act, how they react… entire personalities – entire identities are built around how emotions are felt and how they are dealt with.  You very well could have entirely erased Dabi as a person. In fact, you likely did, at least temporarily.

You swallowed the hard lump in your throat and tried to calm your panicked breathing.  “…How long did it last?”

He was quiet again, and the silence was worse than anything.

“Please tell me.” You begged.  “How long?”

“Hours.”

Your heart was racing and your ears ringing.  Your eyes began to sting but you fought it, focusing on a patch of scarred flesh on his back to distract yourself, memorizing its pattern.  You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Not again.  And certainly not twice in one day.  You wanted to apologize, to beg his forgiveness, but you couldn’t make the words come out, not without your emotions spilling out with them.  Instead, you forced yourself into action, treating his scars with your quirk. 

There was so much more you wanted to know. How did he get his emotions back?  What did it feel like? Was it slow, or at all at once? Did he feel relieved?

Did it hurt?

But you couldn’t bring yourself to ask those questions, no matter how badly you wanted to know, no matter how badly you wanted to understand.  They were too personal, and you could already tell by Dabi’s growing reluctance that he didn’t want to talk about it any further.

You’d apologize to him. At some point, once your emotions were under control, you’d apologize.

You finished numbing his back and shoulders, even tracing down his triceps a little.  “Turn around,” you instructed.

He did as you asked, adjusting himself in the chair so he was now facing you.  You avoided looking at him, the shame and guilt far too heavy for you to lift your eyes.  Unbeknownst to you, a frown pulled at his brow, his lips.  You wore your emotions so plainly…

You took his hand in yours and continued your quirk as your skin began to prickle and sting. The sound of the shower dripping in the bathroom was louder now. Dabi shifted slightly in his chair and the scraping sound against the floor was like nails on a chalkboard.  The odors in the room went from pleasant to offensive.

“I gotta question for ya,” Dabi suddenly ventured.  “Did you change my clothes that night?”

Your hands faltered and you glanced up at his face before you could catch yourself.  His eyes had a glint in them you couldn’t quite place in your distracted mental state.  You felt embarrassment creep across your skin.

“I did.  I had to get you into the shower before you combusted.” You replied as you continued to treat him, your hands on his collarbone. The feel of it was so familiar now…

“I was naked?”

“Only for a moment!” you replied.  “You were in your boxers for most of it, but I had to change you out of those after the shower.” God, this entire conversation was so embarrassing… why did he have to ask about this of all things?

“…did ya peek?” he asked.

Your mouth struggled like a fish out of water for a moment as you glared at him.  “NO!” You finally exclaimed.  “Of course, I didn’t!  Why would you even…”  but then you saw the grin on his face and you realized he was teasing you. 

You playfully punched his arm.  “You’re an asshole.” You fumed.

He laughed.  “That didn’t even hurt.” He mocked.

“Of course it didn’t, idiot. I already used my quirk there.” You shot back.  “Now stay still so I can get your damn face.”

“So feisty…” he murmured.

Shit.  With your senses heightened, you could almost feel the vibration in his voice, as if he were closer to you than he actually was. For the briefest moment, it distracted you from the growing pain of your scar, from the sound of the drip drip from the bathroom shower.  You wondered what it would feel like to have those words uttered against your skin, his hot breath warming your flesh, the feel of his rough lower lip brushing…

You clenched your jaw until you nearly gave yourself a headache, forcing the intrusive thoughts out of your mind.  You weren’t here for this.  You were here to treat him and get out of his space.  You weren’t his type.  You repeated it to yourself like a mantra, a prayer, a reminder to the illogical part of you that wanted to follow the lure of his voice.  Why did he have to be such a flirt?  It didn’t surprise you, but it certainly left you feeling confused when his actions and words sometimes contradicted themselves.

All it meant was that he was getting comfortable with you again. He was treating you like a friend, and friends teased all the time.  Right?

His eyes watched you closely as your hands caressed his jaw, relieving the ache there.  You seemed lost in your thoughts and while you certainly didn’t look comfortable, you also didn’t look too be too horribly in pain. You were doing better today.  Still, your fingers danced quickly across his skin, skating under his eyes which he instinctively closed, and barely touching his lower lip.  It happened far too quickly before the presence of you disappeared, and it left him feeling empty.  How badly he wanted to grab your hands right then and put them back onto his face. 

When he opened his eyes again, your own eyes were downcast as you stretched your fingers slightly.

“You okay?” he ventured. The question sounded odd coming from him, even to his own ears.

You looked up at him then, and you could see he was concerned. That’s right… he knew about your quirk and your scar now.  You clasped your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking.  Shaking from the pain you were feeling, shaking from the fear of your own thoughts and desires.

“I’m fine.” You lied. Did he know you were lying with this too?

He knew.  In fact, you’d given him the same false words he always gave you.  It was like looking into a mirror.

“You don’t gotta do the legs.” He offered.  “I’m not dressed for it anyway.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You chided.  “Of course I’m going to do your legs.  The better I treat you, the better you can rest.  And your body needs rest to heal your burn.”

He noticed that you made no comment on his withdrawal, which a part of him appreciated; it helped him avoid the discomfort of shame that was always associated with it. Still…

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere, doll.  I won’t be needing them.  Besides, the drugs help.” He replied.

You eyed him for a moment, assessing.  “How about I just do your calves then?” you bartered.

He assessed you in return before he gave a small half-smirk.  “Deal.”

By the time you’d treated his calves down to the tops of his feet, you were definitely grateful you didn’t have to do any more.

PING……..PING……

You rubbed at the bridge of your nose, feeling the onset of a headache as you skirted just shy of overload. You closed your eyes, hoping maybe the lack of visual stimulation might make the auditory more bearable.  Or at least bearable enough that you could actually move your body instead of feeling frozen.  But it only made it worse, allowing your brain to hyperfixate on it. You covered your ears against it as you struggled to find your way out of it, to regain control of yourself.

While you lost yourself in your senses, Dabi watched you in displeasure.  He’d made sure to have everything ready before you showed up.  He even made sure not to light up a cigarette, as much as that had grated on him, since he knew the smell would linger long after. But clearly, something was bothering you.  What had he missed?

He watched, waiting, giving you time to figure yourself out or ask for help while he secretly tried to decode the mystery.  Your eyes were closed, your hands over your ears.  Was it multiple sensory attacks?  You flinched again.  And again. There was a rhythm.  So, it was something you were hearing.

Curiously, Dabi closed his own eyes listening for anything that stood out.  Slowly, the quiet sound of water dripping greeted his ears like a whisper.  He opened his eyes just in time to see your flinch match with the sound.

That was it.

“It’s the shower.” He commented. 

It wasn’t a question – it was a statement.  You opened your eyes and looked at him with surprise before giving a nod, your hands still over your ears.  He knew his shower leaked for a bit after he used it, but he’d gotten so used to it that he just tuned out the sound by this point.  But for you… especially after using your quirk on him…

Why didn’t you just get up and leave?  Why stay here if it was bothering you this much?  Obviously, you wanted to get away from it…

Maybe you couldn’t.  Maybe, for some reason, you were stuck in what you were experiencing, unable to find your way out.

Dabi could relate to that.

And he didn’t like it.

He stood up and closed the bathroom door before returning to sit in the chair in front of you, waiting.

You could still hear it. But it was manageable now, muffled. Quieter.  You could feel yourself start to process the rest of what you were feeling.  The pain on your back; the feel of your clothes, your hair; the smell of Dabi’s body wash, fresh linen… cigarettes.  Slowly, your hands lowered from your ears as you focused on each sense, identifying all you recognized.  The world was still loud around you, but at least you could somewhat function again. Slowly, you opened your eyes to see him watching you through an unreadable expression.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much.” You replied. “Thank you.  Again.”

“It’s fine.”

A heavy, awkward quiet filled the space, and in that moment, despite Dabi’s kindness, all you wanted was to be back safely in your room.  Maybe it was because you were feeling overwhelmed by your own emotions, unable to properly control how your heart pounded around him, or how you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. Or maybe it was the way he kept looking at you, his expression unreadable yet his gaze intense, as if you were all that he was focused on and he was determined to discover all of your secrets.

Either way, you felt an ache grow within you, threatening to drown you. But you couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t dismantle it or bury it, not while your brain fought the senses overwhelming you. You could handle one or the other… but you couldn’t handle both.

You needed the comfort of your room; you needed your safe space.

“I’m… going to go lay down.” You said quietly, as you grabbed your bag.  It felt heavy in your hand.

If Dabi noticed the shift in your mood, he didn’t say so.  Instead, he stood from his seat and shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

“Yeah.  Me too.” He replied.

Despite the suddenly aloof atmosphere, he still walked you to his door.  After you left, he leaned his back against the cold wood and ran his hand down his face.

So much for not caring…

________________________________________________

Part 10 ________________________________________________

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[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Lovedust Pt.8 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: Y/N and Josh talk things over about where they stand as Y/N tries to build the courage to confess to Peter. One night on top of the roof, Y/N and Peter reveal any secrets they’ve been keeping from each other. 

Word Count: 5k

Author’s Note: This is technically the last part of Lovedust but there will be an epilogue. I was going to go a whole different direction and make it too angsty because sometimes, life works out that way but you guys deserve a happy ending ;) This series was only meant to be about three parts long but because of ow supportive and kind you all have been, I just have no words except thank you all so much. I will give a better thank you for the epilogue  but until then, enjoy the chapter. 

Warning: adult language

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || epilogue 

You stared up at your bedroom ceiling quietly, picking at the stitching of your blanket to the point where you had about four inches of loose thread massaged between your thumb and middle finger.

Three minutes. 

Peter was presumed dead for three minutes as you were giving him CPR that was literally a race against the clock. One hundred eighty seconds was the span between life or death and you couldn’t help but think of what if you had stopped after a minute? What about one hundred and seventy-nine seconds?

Three minutes. Your mind was so fucked that the only thing you could compare the time to was that Peter was dead longer than the time it took to pop a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

You thought back to the time where you had gone to California with Tony where you were alone in the hotel room while he had a conference. You remembered how scared you felt when the ground started to shake underneath you as the earth rolled underneath.

That earthquake must’ve only lasted fifteen seconds tops and yet, you felt like it was an eternity of shielding yourself underneath one of the desks that would’ve surely broken if the roof caved in overhead.

It’s odd how times works, whenever you’re in a dangerous situation, your body literally slows downtime so you can have the best chance at survival. So while those three minutes didn’t seem like a long time, the lingering fear of losing Peter after everything sent your body through emotional distress like no other.

It felt like a cruel joke; you had only come to realize you were in love with him when he was dying in front of you. What was even crueler was that even though everything seemed less complicated now that you really understood how you felt about him, it was only the tip of the iceberg.

It had been a few days since you had seen Peter since the night of the party and you felt like you were slowly losing your sanity. Your dad tried convincing you that Peter needed to be monitored for a while but maybe he just wanted you two to stay away from each other since you practically almost killed him by kissing Josh.

You loved Peter and he “loved” you yet once he was cured, he wouldn’t share the same feelings for you. What would happen once he was cured? How different would things be between you, especially since you would be having feelings for someone who doesn’t love you back? 

Loving someone who surely wasn’t in love with you felt like a whole new level of self-destruction.

Your phone rang from underneath your pillow and temporarily interrupted your thoughts. You reached under the pillow to pull out your phone to find that Josh was calling you. 

You inhaled sharply as you practically leaped out from under your covers, unsure of what to do. 

The last you heard from Josh was the night of the party but just like Peter, you hadn’t seen or spoke to him since. That wasn’t the full truth, Josh had been texting you to make sure you were okay but you didn’t have the strength to even reply to his worried texts. 

Poor Josh. He felt like an innocent bystander who got hit in the crossfire of what was going on between you and Peter.

In past relationships, you were like Josh. Your past boyfriends seem to always treat you as a rebound, a backup in case things went south and as gross as it made you feel, it was like you could sort of understand why your exes felt that way.

You didn’t want to lead Josh on, he was too nice of a guy to deserve that type of treatment. Your thumb hovered over the screen and you answered his call at the last second. He deserved that at the least.

“ Hey sorry, I was um, preoccupied. Is everything okay?” You asked as you started to pace your room.

“ I was going to ask the same for you. You haven’t been answering my texts and I was getting worried.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as a wave of guilt washed over you,” Y-Yeah I’m sorry. I’ve just been going through some stuff. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“ You don’t have to apologize, I get it. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something in person, are you doing anything at the moment? 

You rolled your shoulders back as you let out a deep sigh. In all honesty, you didn’t feel like leaving your room but if you were going to pick Peter over Josh, you also would have to owe him an explanation.

“ Okay, where do you want to meet?”

“ We can meet outside your complex, I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“ Oh that’s probably easier anyway, when are you gonna come over?” You asked as you fell backwards onto your bed.

“ Um...I’m already outside.”

Your eyes widened as you scrambled over to your window to squint out towards the entrance. Sure enough, if you squinted really hard, you could make out Josh’s car outside the front gate.

“ Oh fuck! Sorry um, I’m coming out now!” You didn’t bother to let Josh respond as you hung up the phone and practically rushed out of your bedroom.

You practically sprinted across the front lawn all the way to the entrance and once you opened the gate, you leaned your body against the side of Josh’s car to help catch your breath.  

“ You didn’t have to run all the way here, I could’ve waited,” Josh said with a smile as he watched you struggling.

“ I know,” You huffed as you felt yourself calm down,” but it would have been awkward if you just stood there for five minutes and watched me walk the whole way.”

“ Okay, that’s fair,” Josh chuckled as he leaned against the side of his car beside you,” I wanted to talk to you about the night of the party. I just want to make sure you’re okay and I’m sorry if I overstepped by kissing you. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

You felt your heartstrings tug at his words as you looked down at your flip flops. You didn’t know how to explain to him that he wasn’t the one who overstepped but that the kiss was never supposed to happen. 

“ You don’t have to apologize Josh and you didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. It’s just...I know how you feel about me and don’t get me wrong, I’m so flattered that you actually like me because to be honest, you’re way out of my league but um,” You awkwardly rubbed your sweaty hands against your pajama bottoms and let out a shaky breath,” I thought things were fine and that they would go back to normal but um, things kinda just happened and you were there and I thought hey he’s cute, like super cute, and Kim was being so pushy-”

“ I know you have feelings for Peter, it’s okay Y/N,” Josh interrupted as he took a moment before wincing,” I didn’t mean to interrupt you but I had a feeling that’s where you were heading with it. Plus you ramble when you’re nervous and I don’t want you to say something embarrassing. ”

Bless his soul, Josh really would be the death of you.

“ Is it that obvious I like him?” 

“ Painfully obvious yeah. I kinda figured you two had something going on but after you gave him CPR and you two gave each other that look, that’s when it all clicked for me,” Josh said as you felt the tips of your ears get hot.

“ Josh, I am so sorry. I really mean it when I say that you’re the sweetest guy I have ever met and I really do wish you the best,” You answered honestly and you felt even guiltier when Josh only shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You couldn’t believe that even now as you were telling Josh you didn’t share feelings for him that he was still being incredibly sweet towards you. 

“ Same goes for you, I hope he treats you the way you deserve to be treated. I have to be honest and say that I can’t get rid of my feelings for you overnight but hopefully we can be friends somewhere along the line,” Josh offered as you felt your heart snap in two.

As you looked back at Josh, that’s when you could really make out the distinct difference between the two boys. You weren’t sure if what Josh was saying was truthful, he was harder to read than Peter and even though his mouth was saying one thing, you could see that there was some pain behind his brown eyes that told a different story. 

Yet nonetheless, you admired that Josh, despite having the full right to completely guilt you and make you feel like shit because of what happened, still chose to put any malicious intent aside for your own good.  

“ Is it okay if I hug you?” You asked as Josh returned a sweet smile, embracing you in his strong arms. 

Despite the heaviness in Josh’s chest, he felt his heart flutter at the feeling of your body pressed against his. The hug was short but even in those few seconds, Josh felt himself trying to take a mental picture of this moment, something he would replay over and over as he did his best to get over you. 

After Josh had left, you made your way back into your cave and hid out in your room for the rest of the night. You had school first thing in the morning and yet, you found yourself tossing and turning yet again. 

To cure your restless mind, you left your room and headed into the kitchen to make tea. You were never the type to drink tea but you didn’t have the patience to just lay in bed, at least this way you were occupying your mind with something else.

As the water boiled, you kept your eyes on Peter’s bedroom door, your knee bouncing up and down as if you were anticipating him opening it. You wondered how he was feeling, considering he almost died and all.

You just wished you could have the confidence to just go up and talk to him, to admit that it was him all along and that you chose him. 

You poured the tea into a mug and cradled it in your hands carefully as a pair of feet made their way into the kitchen. You turned around, anticipating Peter’s face but instead, you looked up to see your dad.

“ You didn’t hear it from me but Peter is up on the roof waiting for you. Just in case if you were wondering,” Tony said as he nonchalantly dragged his finger across the countertop and peeked his head towards your tea,” aren’t you glad I made you learn CPR? I know it was part of your lifeguard course but I’m glad it came in handy.”

“  Too soon,” You sighed as you watched your dad haphazardly look through the cupboards,” and I wasn’t wondering about Peter. I’m just minding my own business and then I’m heading to bed.”

“ Minding your own business? That’s not the Y/N I know.”

“ Well, what would the Y/N you know do?” You asked as you looked down at the inside of your mug,” am I supposed to just run over to the roof and profess my love for him?” 

Tony furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head,” I never said anything about love kiddo but the Y/N I know loves to talk so yeah, I expect some emotional reunion of the sort. You’ve always been known to be a bit theatrical.”

“ And who do you think I get that from?”

“ The one and only Potts,” Tony chuckled as a small smile crept onto your lips,” I don’t know what to say because I don’t think I can bring myself to give my daughter relationship advice about a guy who lives only a few doors down. If anything, it’s against my best interest but I will make this the one exception where I will intervene simply because if I don’t, no one else will. I think you should talk to Peter. He’s been through a lot and he has some things he needs to talk to you about.”

” Well he’s the one avoiding me so maybe he should come over and say it to my face,” You didn’t know why you turned so aggressive but you took a small sip of your tea to try and ease your nerves,” I know he’s been through a lot but we both have. That night of the party was just...too much for me. ”

“ You really are my daughter, always making it about you. You gotta give the kid a break.”

“ I- Dad it is all about me. That night fucking-not sorry- sucked and I don’t know what else to say. I jumped into a pool with my clothes on and I thought Peter was dead-”

“ But he’s not dead. He’s alive and breathing and waiting for you on the roof like I told you,” Tony interrupted as you exhaled slowly,” you love him, it’s a fathers worst nightmare but even I can see clear as day that you have feelings for him, are you going to tell me I’m wrong?”

You liked to think you knew yourself better than anyone else and for the most part, it was true. Tony was probably the closest to knowing who you really were as a person and yet, everything he was saying still wasn’t enough to make you less paranoid.

“ I wouldn’t say you’re wrong but I’m too scared to say out loud that you’re right,” You said as Tony rolled his eyes,” what? What did I say?”

“ You love to talk and yet, you never say enough. I don’t have the patience to stand here and listen to you beat around the bush,” Tony kneeled down towards one of the cupboards and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the shelf,” you have a problem. Let me know how things go with Peter. Or don’t. I’ll find out anyway.”

You stood there, mouth wide open as you watched Tony playfully bump into your shoulder, what a bastard,” Yeah sure! You’re the one drinking at three am but I’m the problem?”

Tony only gave you a hasty wave before turning the corner to where the elevators were, leaving you alone in the kitchen. He was right, everything he was saying made perfect sense and yet, it annoyed you on how right he was.

You had absolutely no idea how to start a conversation with Peter now that you were sure of your feelings and yet, all you wanted to do was find him and reveal everything to him. You looked between your bedroom door and the elevators. You could either go back to bed or you could talk to Peter and nervously choke on your words like a schoolgirl.

Fuck no.

You walked over to your room with your mug in one hand but before you could open the door, your legs started to move in the direction of the elevators, seemingly with a mind of their own.

Fuck it.

You stepped into the elevator and made your way up the floors until you hit the roof access. You hardly spent any of your time on the roof since you had no reason to ever be up there in the first place but once you opened the door,  you were immediately taken aback.

The greenroof took up almost half of the roof itself, the addition being nothing more than a general garden area to look aesthetically pleasing from the sky. Since most of the energy needed to run the facility was either solar or space related, the greenroof was more of a private garden that didn’t account for energy efficiency.

A mixture of moss and summer grass covered the roof in a thick blanket that never grew beyond the border of the garden and at first glance, the brightly freckled flowers planted along the pathway seemed random but as you walked down the graveled path, you could tell that there was some element of planning that went along with it.

Along the pathway stood different hues of green bonsai trees that stood tall and proud in their wooden boxes. You were so focused on the bonsais that you didn’t notice Peter sitting on one of the benches about a couple of yards away.

Your breath hitched in your throat but your feet continued to crunch along the graveled pathway as you made your way over to him. From Peter’s spot underneath the patio, he could hear you walking towards him but kept his eyes looking straight forward, unable to tear them away from the cityscape in the far distance.

You hesitantly took a seat beside Peter on the wooden bench and tucked your legs back so you could rest the mug on your thigh. The lights that Peter had strung up a few weeks back had lost it’s brightness, leaving behind a faded orange glow in its place but it was just the right amount of light needed to where you could read his expression carefully.

“ How are you feeling?” You asked quietly as you attempted to get a feel for what mindset Peter was in.

“ Good, I feel good,” Peter said back, almost quieter than the volume you started out with,” how are you feeling?”

While both of your minds were racing at the thought of the other person, the thoughts suddenly felt almost too personal, the atmosphere being instantly filled with the conversations you two weren’t having.

Out of the two of you, Peter felt like he had more to share and yet, more to hide. You were still completely clueless on the following; A) Peter was cured B) You cured him because of the kiss and C) He loved you back

It seemed like a dream come true, Peter was still in love with you without the lovedust and you felt the same way towards him and yet, he was still terrified. As everything began to feel more and more real, suddenly the idea of being with you made his chest tighten up.

He never knew if he could ever admit it outloud but he was scared that you liked him back because what if after all this time, after all the trials and tribulation the two of you had gone through, what if you two still didn’t work out?

There was so much history between the two of you and he was worried that all of the heartbreak and pining wouldn’t be worth it in the end. He loved you so much to where he knew that he needed you no matter what. It only hurt him more to think that from your last argument, you couldn’t even bring yourself to admit to him that you loved him. 

Now that you were here in front of him, Peter would make sure you wouldn’t leave without hearing you say it back. 

As Peter tried to carefully put his thoughts in order like he had practiced, you thought back to what your dad had told you and decided that you needed to start somewhere and you had to do that by being honest.

“ I’ve been struggling these last couple of days with what happened at the party. I can’t tell how you guilty I feel for putting you through so much pain and I wish I could take it all back. I feel so guilty because it was my fault you died- did you know that? I know the paramedics talked to you but you were dead for three minutes Peter and honestly, that was one of the worst moments of my life. I mean it’s up there with what happened to my parents,” You paused as you remembered to take a breath,” I don’t know what I would’ve done if something had happened to you.”

Peter felt his mouth dry up and for a moment, it was hard to swallow,” You didn’t kill me, you saved me. I still feel like I might be in shock from it all but I don’t blame you for anything that happened. I’m sorry I even put you through that cause I’m sure it was...a lot. But don’t ever say that you killed me, none of it was your fault.”

“ It was my fault. If it wasn’t for me and Josh-,” You stopped yourself before saying more. You didn’t want to talk about Josh, all you cared about was Peter but now, the thought was evident in Peter’s mind and he couldn’t seem to shake it out of him.

The image of you kissing Josh replayed in Peter’s head over and over again as his heart ached. Josh made things more complicated than they already were.

Peter’s biggest fear was losing you but to lose you to another guy? And yet, it still made Peter feel like he was between a rock and a hard place because Peter had only meant Josh on one occasion and it was enough to give Peter an idea that Josh didn’t have cruel intentions towards you.

Just because you loved Peter didn’t mean that you didn’t have feelings for Josh and that’s what made Peter crazy. You must’ve liked Josh enough to return the kiss right?

“ He’s a good guy, I see why you like him,” Peter finally said as he shifted awkwardly in his seat, not knowing what else to say,” he would make you happy.”

The comment shakes you in an uncomfortable way, was that supposed to make you feel better? Your annoyance was jealousy in disguise, you didn’t want to talk about Josh, you were here to tell Peter how you actually felt about him but because of how Peter was delivering it, it seemed like he was giving you an out.

“ It’s not- I don’t like Josh like that.”

“ You kissed him, I saw the whole thing. Do you just go around kissing people you supposedly don’t like?” Peter couldn’t help himself and let the words slip out so easily.

It was a low blow and the two of you both knew it. 

It took every fiber of your being not to lash out at the accusation because you knew Peter had a right to be upset but you didn’t like what he was insinuating and you didn’t want the conversation to take a bad turn,” You don’t have to worry about Josh anymore. If you want me to be honest, yes, I thought there was something there but things changed. I came to talk to you because my dad said you needed to tell me something important but if you’re going to just sit here and belittle me, I’m not gonna take it. I get it, the lovedust is messing with your emotions but I’m extremely sensitive tonight, more than usual so just come back to me when you’re calm.”

You got up from your seat with a quickness but before you could step off the patio, Peter grabbed your wrist and pulled you back towards the corner of the bench.

Peter felt like such an idiot, whenever he got anxious on the fine details, he had a tendency to let the big picture escape him but it was something he knew he needed to work on while he was around you. He wasn’t going to let the conversation die just before it had started, he knew his big mouth tended to escalate conversations with you but he couldn’t let you go, not this time.

“ I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m just frustrated because this feels so one-sided. I never know what you’re thinking because you never tell me anything. You always avoid answering the question but I need more,” Peter practically begged as you felt yourself get a bit aggravated,” I am being calm but I’m desperate at this point. I need to know how you feel about me, don’t try to change the subject, I need to know. Tell me how I make you feel.”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you pulled your hand away from Peter so you could regain your thoughts without him distracting you. You were suddenly chickening out, you had never felt so nervous in your entire life and you wanted to tell him how much you loved him. You wanted to tell him what he wanted to hear but it wasn’t easy taking a step forward when you don't know where your foot will fall.

“ This is hard for me Peter, I’m trying my best and I’m sorry if it isn’t good enough but ever since the lovedust, the dynamic is different and you’ve changed. It’s so much to get used to because of...how I feel towards you,” You said as Peter let out a frustrated breath.

He hated this feeling of going back and forth, he didn’t want to hear any of it. All he wanted was to just shake your shoulders because in his mind, you had no reason to be hesitant on opening up to him,” The lovedust didn’t change just me, it changed you too! I was vulnerable and I opened up to you, I showed you how I felt about you every second of the day but you have given me nothing!”

Nothing.

That word made your blood boil because nothing? Just because it was hard for you to let your emotions out didn’t mean Peter was getting nothing back in return. Since he was infected with the lovedust, you had been doing your best to open yourself more to him and you thought you had been doing a good job.

After all those years of Peter belittling you and tearing you down, of course, you would be a bit hesitant to let down your guard and yet, you did it anyway. It took so much to get to where you were comfortable with Peter to be vulnerable, especially when you broke down from your nightmare of your parents.

To break down and crumble in front of Peter wasn’t an accident, you could only be that vulnerable if you knew that he could help piece you back together.

“ Nothing? I gave you nothing?” You spat as you felt your eyes tear up,” I saved your life! I gave you the breath in my lungs to stop you from dying! I don’t owe you anything, I don’t need to prove shit to you!”

Peter stood up from the bench and while his heart ached from seeing you so upset, he knew that he couldn’t hold back,” Don’t pull that with me Y/N, you know you haven’t been honest with me. We both know that we can’t live without the other so don’t act like you did me a favor by saving me. Why won’t you admit it, even after everything we’ve been through, you’re still scared to just admit that you might love me!”

And just like that, you felt yourself let go.

“Of course I’m scared! I’m fucking terrified Peter! Is that what you want me to say? Do you want me to admit that me almost losing you would’ve broken me? Because you’re right! Yes, I love you!” You cried out as you took in a shaky breath,” I love you so much it hurts me and I didn’t understand how badly I loved you until I almost lost you! All I could think about when I was trying to save you was never hearing your laugh and never feeling your touch and I swear Peter, if you died, I would’ve never forgiven myself. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it but I love you.  But none of it matters, you know why? Because you’re sick in the head, the lovedust is fucking with you and now it’s fucking with me!”

There it was, finally. After all of that time denying it and trying to hide your feelings to save your own sanity, you finally confessed. You had so many chances to confess that yes, it really was him all along. 

When he came into your room and comforted you through your nightmare to the two of you shouting at each other in the rain, you had always loved him. 

Even though Peter knew how you felt about him, this was the first time he heard it with his own ears and it was like hearing the symphony for the first time. Like your own soundtrack that swelled during the climax of the movie that was you and Peter, Peter could listen to you say it over and over again.

He didn’t care that most of your confession involved a string of swear words because, without them, it wouldn’t have been your true self. He knew once he admitted to you that he was cured, there would be no going back.

“ The lovedust is gone Y/N. When you kissed me- or saved me by giving mouth to mouth- the lovedust flushed out of my system completely. Banner did extra tests and he confirmed that I’m okay and back to normal all because of you.”

Your heart dropped to the floor as your eyes raked up Peter, testing to see if he was lying but he didn’t falter. This is what you were afraid of, confessing everything to him only to find out that he didn’t love you anymore but who would’ve thought it would be you to make him go back to normal.

And yet, a huge part of you was relieved because finally, the lovedust was gone. You didn’t need to worry about it ever screwing with you and Peter again but as you studied his expression, your chest felt heavy.  

You had seemingly set up your own demise,” Oh, that’s good...I’m happy for you.”

You felt yourself take a step back but Peter reached his hand out to softly hold yours. You pulled your hand away but Peter swatted your stubbornness away and held your hand tighter. He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles and when he looked back up at you, he felt his heart swell.

“ And yet, even though the pain is gone, I feel more love for you now than I have ever felt in my entire life. I understand what they mean when they say love hurts but if anything, it heals even more because you made me feel whole again. When you saved me and the first thing I saw was you looking back at me, it was like I was given a second chance to love you the right way, the way you were meant to be loved.”

“You were right, the lovedust made me fall in love with you but ever since you cured me, it was only a matter of admitting to myself that deep down, I’ve always cared about you. It opened my eyes and showed me that I will never have to look further in finding the one for me because you are everything and more,” Peter said as you moved your eyes from the floor to his figure,” I love you. I mean it. No exceptions, no strings attached, no lovedust required.”

Right then and there, you were at a loss for everything you could possibly hold; no words, no breath, no thoughts. Any resentment you held had shattered into microscopic pieces that would dissolve once crushed between something as delicate as your fingertips because he said everything you wanted to hear.

“ You love me?” You said quietly to where Peter made you repeat yourself,” Are you serious? Do you really mean it?”

Peter nodded and softly let out an ‘ of course I do’ as he brushed his fingers lightly over your cheek. He cupped your face gently with one hand as his thumb wiped away a stray tear,” Can I finally kiss you?”  

Peter’s cheeks grew red as you nodded and leaned into his touch, innocently brushing your lips against his. Peter dipped his head down to close the space between the two of you and kissed you so softly, you had to pull him closer to you to actually kiss him back.

Even though Peter was the one who asked, he felt completely unprepared kissing you back. He had imagined over and over how warm your lips would be against his but now that he was actually kissing you, he didn’t think he had enough self-control to ever stop kissing you.

You never knew a kiss could be innocent and yet so intimate but as his lips moved in perfect sync, any other logistics of the feeling went away because all you could think about was Peter. You practically melted into his touch but before you could savor the kiss, Peter pulled away breathless.

“ S-Sorry, I forgot to breathe,” Peter gushed as you smiled back up at him,” what does this mean for us now?”

You traced your finger along Peter’s wrist as you thought quietly,” I don’t know but we can figure it out together.”

Peter hummed happily before dipping his head down to kiss you and when he pulled away, he fell himself falling in love with you all over again.

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[rikalovesrice]

Brother

A ficlet inspired by this thread on Twitter, some “Douxie During Trollhunters” stuff I was working on a while back, and my love for Douxie and Jim being best bros UwU

@aaronwaltke and @biancasiercke if you guys ever wanna give this a read (Absolutely zero pressure! Just sharing💙)

Also a big thank you to my good friend @nikibogwater for proofreading for me! ^_^

Please enjoy!

~ ~ ~

Douxie still remembered the day a seven-year-old Jim Lake Jr. came through the door to Benoit’s, tugging his mom in after him by her hand. His big toothy smile when he exclaimed that it was his mom’s birthday and that he was paying for all of it, even the drinks.

“Are you now?” Douxie asked, handing the pair of them menus. They’d chosen a two-top right next to the windows, the backdrop of Arcadia under a soft orange sunset in full view. 

“I helped mom clean,” Jim said. “Like a lot. So I have lots of money.” He crossed his arms, throwing his mom, Barbara Lake, a cheeky grin. His black hair was on the long side and messy, sticking up and flopping in various places including over one of his eyes, though it did virtually nothing to hide his pride and excitement.

“Can you believe he wanted to spend his whole allowance on me?” Barbara said.

“Uh yeah! You’re the best mom ever!” Jim leaned towards Douxie, feigning a whisper. “She’s the best mom ever.”

Douxie chuckled. “I’m sure. And it looks like she’s got a great son to match.” Jim beamed, though a hint of shyness bloomed on his face.

“I’m sorry, what’s your name?” Barbara asked.

“Oh, quite alright. You can call me Douxie. I’ll be your server tonight.”

“Well thank you, Douxie.”

“Mom, can I get a milkshake?”

“Why are you asking me, little man? You’re the one paying.”

“Oh yeah.”

One shared entree of well done steak, a milkshake, and two free slices of cake (accompanied by Douxie’s acoustic guitar and a birthday song) later, Jim caught Douxie by the hem of his jacket after he’d set their receipt down. 

“Wait, Mister Douxie I uh…” Jim dug deep into his pockets, rummaging with a look of determination.

Douxie smiled, kneeling down beside him. “What is it, little man?”

“Um, wait, wait I need to...Oh!” Jim smiled big as he pulled a single coin out of his pocket. He held it straight out to Douxie, his eyes seeming to sparkle. “This is for you! Mom said that you should always tip people.”

Jim placed the coin in the center of Douxie’s palm. It was a nickel, a small bit of rust darkening ol’ Tommy’s profile. Douxie glanced over at Barbara, who was gazing at her son with an expression nothing short of pure endearment, glowing with pride. Douxie closed his fingers over the nickel and held it to his chest.

“A fine tip, indeed,” he said with a soft smile. “Thank you very much, Jim.”

Jim beamed. Then he was springing out of his chair, giggling as he gave Douxie a hug. How long had it been since he’d been smothered by someone who wasn’t Archie? Maybe long enough, because Douxie’s brain stopped working at the gesture, as did his arms. It registered more with every second that passed, the feeling of Jim’s small arms wrapped around him and his head on Douxie’s shoulder. Even without seeing his face, Douxie somehow knew Jim was smiling into his jacket. Something welled up in his heart, warm and touched. Douxie hugged Jim back, one hand on his back and the other gently holding his head.

“You’re awesome Mister Douxie!” Jim said as he pulled back, his hands still on Douxie’s shoulders. “Mom was really happy.”

“Hey now, I’m not the one who bought her dinner tonight.” Douxie ruffled Jim’s hair.

“Alright, Jim, Mister Douxie has to go back to work,” Barbara said softly. Jim’s expression fell and he began to wring his hands.

“No worries.” Douxie gave Jim’s shoulder a squeeze, tilting his head to look Jim in the eyes. “Chin up, buddy.  Next time you come in, I’ll still be here.”

Jim beamed. “Cool!”

“Go on, then.”

Jim hopped to his mother’s side, taking her hand. When he was distracted by one of Douxie’s co-workers wrestling with a malfunctioning blender, Barbara reached into her purse and pulled out a bill. She slipped it into Douxie’s hand, silently mouthing a thank you. Then the pair were off, stepping back out onto the streets of Arcadia under a pleasant evening. 

Douxie unrolled the bill.

Twenty dollars.

His eyes shot to the window in disbelief, catching Jim giving him one last wave goodbye. A deep breath turned into soft chuckling. Douxie waved back.

See you, little buddy.

~ ~ ~

The morning Archie reported Kanjigar’s death, they’d booked it to the canal. The last thing they wanted was for the Amulet of Daylight to wind up in the museum or in some kid’s backpack. Douxie would pick it up and then head right back to Arcane Books. So a brisk ten minute walk later, they were peering down the deep slope of the canal and spotted what must have been the remains of the Trollhunter. A heap of broken stone, just out of reach of the shadow of the bridge. Douxie closed his eyes, taking a moment to honor the fallen Protector of Trolls and Man. Wondering if, somehow, Merlin was doing the same.

“Alright Arch, let’s go — “ Before they could take another step, what looked like a boy on a bicycle suddenly launched over the other side of the canal, suspended in the air before diving back down and landing on his wheels. The boy skid to a halt and turned to holler behind him, up from where he’d come.

“Jim?” Douxie whispered, recognizing that head of black hair and those skinny legs. “A bit late for school, isn’t he?” Then Douxie felt a pinch of panic seize him. He prayed the kid would stay away from that odd pile of rocks.

“Come on Tobes!” Jim hollered.

And not a second later…

James...Lake.

A deep, echoing voice rumbled out into the atmosphere, buzzing in Douxie’s ears. Shock and disbelief struck Douxie like a manticore’s tail. He and Archie shared a look. The panic spiked.

Douxie watched, his heart beginning to pound harder and harder, as Jim faced the stone rubble, slowly removing his helmet. Another familiar face, Toby Domzalski, came struggling down the canal, falling onto his face as Jim passed under the bridge and approached what was left of Kanjigar.

“Do you think he heard the voice?” Archie said.

“No...It can’t be…He’s not…” It couldn’t be. Jim wasn’t a troll. Jim wasn’t a troll. And yet —

James Lake.

The voice rang out again. Jim yelled and fell backwards in surprise. 

“That pile of rocks knows my name!” Jim exclaimed, scrambling closer on his hands and knees. Douxie stared, mind still suspended in shock but gut starting to sink with dread as Jim dug around the rubble, eventually unearthing the Amulet of Daylight, its distinct soft blue glow ever hard to miss. 

Everything in Douxie wanted him to somehow swipe it from Jim’s hands. 

Because not him. 

Not Jim.

But Douxie also knew better. 

“What should we do, Douxie?” Archie asked. They ducked behind a tree when Toby started shouting for someone to reveal themselves. Made sense he would think it was a trick. Only magical beings or the chosen could hear the Amulet.

Only magical beings.... Or so Douxie had thought. Jim slipping the Amulet into his bag was a nail in the coffin.

“Well...we can’t take it now,” he said, eyes still trained on the boys. “The Amulet... seems to have made its choice….”

In the distance, the school bell of Arcadia Oaks rang out. Jim and Toby hurried back to their bikes, quickly mounting and taking off. When they were long gone, Douxie stepped out from behind the tree without a word, sliding down the canal and standing over the pile of stones. He stared off in the direction the boys had left, his mind reeling like nothing else, trying to comprehend what he’d seen and what it meant. 

Why it had to be Jim.

Archie joined him, climbing up on and inspecting the rubble.

“I know...the Amulet doesn’t make mistakes,” Douxie said quietly. “But...a human Trollhunter? And he’s only a child…” His voice quivered, pangs of worry and dread striking his heart.

“It’s...certainly a first,” Archie said, leaning a paw on Douxie’s leg. “I’m not sure what to make of this myself.” There was a long beat of silence before Archie spoke again. “What do you want to do, Douxie?”

What could they do? Was there anything to be done now? That and there wasn’t anyone he could discuss this with, at least who would know more.

If only you were here, Master… Douxie thought, one hand balling into a fist. He stewed in his thoughts for a moment longer before scooping Archie up onto his shoulders and heading back up the slopes of the canal.

“Douxie?” Archie said.

“We’ll keep doing what we’ve always done,” Douxie said. “Watch...and protect.” He didn’t have any answers. But it was done. The new Trollhunter had been chosen. 

Something stirred in Douxie’s chest, growing stronger as he remembered the smiling face of a seven-year-old boy who’d tipped him a nickel. Stronger still because Douxie knew. He knew what it was like to be so young and have so much, far too much, thrust upon him. Having his hand and the growth of his strength forced. The secrets that had to be kept, even from the ones he loved most, for their own safety. Pain he hadn’t known was coming. 

The loss. 

The loneliness.

The weight of the world.

When Douxie retired to his cot that night, he approached the small shine of silver on his nightstand. No, he didn’t have a clue what any of this meant. But what Douxie did know was that he’d be Jim’s greatest ally.  

He picked up the nickel and held it tight, a promise burning deep within him.

I’ll protect you.

~ ~ ~

Author’s Notes :

So I imagine that Jim and his mother ended up not frequenting the diner as much since Barbara was always so swamped and Jim was learning how to cook more at home. So Jim eventually just forgot about his first meeting with Douxie. But Douxie of course still continued to look out for him as best as he could. And I believe this is why Douxie saw Jim as family, even though he seemed to have only known him for a short time. In reality, though, Douxie always loved the kid💙

God bless and thank you all so much for reading!💙

[scarlet-star-witch]

I loveee the flashbackssss. Would you write about din and lella first time? ♾

I got you babe xx

I wrote this after a bottle of wine while listening to Lana Del Rey so I hope this is coherent. Enjoy this pure, shameless smut! xx

Pairing: Din x Iella (Female OC)

Word Count: 2513

Fade Into You Masterlist

~~

Din watched as Iella got ready for bed for the night. Each movement, though trivial, seemed to set his nerves on fire, just because it was her. 

His thoughts about her soon turned anxious as the hurdle they had yet to cross loomed over him greatly. They’d done everything else there was to do, expect for… that. 

It wasn’t a big deal to most people, but to him, with his creed and his touch-starved past, it was a big deal. He wasn’t embarrassed about his lack of experience, Iella had never once judged him or thought less of him because of it. 

But his greatest fear, the thought of not giving her the pleasure she deserved, was a prevalent thought, one that had kept him from taking the next step. But tonight… tonight he was ready for the next step. 

He wanted to be close to her, he wanted to love her and he wanted to show her just how much he cared for her. 

He’s been sheltered all his life, but with her he could be free.

He began to strip his armour off slowly, his eyes flitting over towards her frame every few seconds. 

“Are you feeling ok after today?” He asked her, wanting to make sure she was physically ok after the excruciatingly long hunt they’d just finished.

“Yeah, walked away with only a few bumps and bruises. We’ve definitely seen worse. I think Xi’an got the worst end of the deal than anyone.” 

Din rolled his eyes under his helmet at the reminder of the annoying Twi’lek. She was the last person he wanted to think of now. 

Iella walked back into the room, brushing her long hair out, the movement of her violet waves capturing his attention so captivatingly. 

“Din?”

“Huh?” He snapped out of his daze, suddenly realizing she was looking at him questioningly.

“I asked you if you were ok. You’ve been quiet all night.”

Din cleared his throat, reaching into his bag for something they had used before, but never for this. 

“I.. uh… wanted to ask you something.” He started nervously. 

Iella looked over at him, realization washing over her as she saw the blindfold in his hands. A soft smile grew as she felt heat flooding her cheeks at his insinuation. At the beginning of their relationship, he’d been so nervous, so scared to initiate anything.

She was relieved to see him finally take the leap. 

“Oh… well, you know I would never say no to a little bit of fun.” She drawled, biting her lip playfully as she sat on the bed next to him, slowly crawling towards him. 

She hoped she looked seductive and not like an idiot, like she worried.

“Well…” He cleared his throat nervously, her sultry gaze making his throat dry, making him almost unable to get any words out. “I wondered… if… maybe we could-”

“Din, are you ok?” Iella asked, interrupting his rambling.

“I want you. All of you.” He finally said straightforwardly. 

Iella’s face smoothed in realization, a shy smile growing. “You have me. You always have.” 

Din let out a loud breath, relieved by her answer, as if he worried she would refuse. Iella closed her eyes, motioning for him to place the blindfold over her eyes. 

“Are you sure it’s ok like this? I can keep my helmet on if that would make you more comfortable?”

“No, no, it’s ok.” She assured him as darkness overtook her. “I want to feel your lips on me.” 

He let out a shuddering breath at her words, squeezing his eyes shut to try and ground himself. He couldn’t lose control before it already began.

With shaking hands, he removed his helmet, his eyes taking in every inch of her before him, relieved to see her without the filter he usually saw her through. 

Sensing his nervousness, Iella reached out blindly, letting out a slight laugh when she met nothing but air. 

“Where are you?” 

Din smiled adoringly and grabbed her hands, guiding her to his bare face. Her hands rested on his cheeks, making him close his eyes at the unbelievably incredible feeling. He let out a loud exhale, trying his best to ground himself from her dizzying touch.

“There you are.” She whispered, her hands tracing his features that remained a mystery to her. 

She could practically feel his nervousness and hesitation. 

“Din, it’s ok. I want you. I want this.” She assured him.

Without wasting anymore time, he crashed his lips to hers reverently, the moan she let out causing goosebumps to erupt over his entire body. Like always, he felt a wave of calm wash over him as he kissed her. He felt like the planets were realigning, like everything was suddenly right in the galaxy.

She always had that effect on him and he hoped it would never dissipate. 

Iella gripped onto his hands, tearing the gloves off him, desperate to feel his touch, his real touch on her skin. 

One hand cradled her cheek as his eagerly made its way down the length of her body. Without any question, she helped him lift her shirt up and he quickly pulled it over her head, allowing his eyes to hungrily roam over every inch of her exposed skin. 

Her breathing increased, her heart beginning to race at his desperate touch. Their kiss became more heated, his tongue dominating hers so effortlessly as he gripped her hips tightly. Din pulled away, just for a second, to rid himself of his clothes as quickly as he could. 

His lips were back on hers in an instant, dominating and vigorous, his desperation suddenly reaching a peak. He let out a gruff moan as he kissed her so bruisingly, his hands beginning to frantically tug at the remaining clothes at her waist.

Iella could feel his body trembling against hers, she could sense his anxiety, the cause of his frantic movements, and she pulled away, placing a hand on his heaving chest.

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m right here, you don’t have to rush.” She whispered to him. 

She cursed herself slightly as he pulled away abruptly. He stared down at her, his wide eyes closing, his face twisting in anger at himself.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out, shame washing over him. Iella reached out, her hands sloppily finding his with her covered vision. 

“It’s ok. Don’t be sorry.” She told him reverently. “If you’re not ready, we don’t have to-”

“No, no. I want to.” He assured her without hesitation. “I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted. I want to be close to you.”

Iella knew he meant more than just physically close. Being emotionally close to others was something Din struggled with and over their time together he’d become much more comfortable. She wanted to cross that final barrier with him.

She smiled softly, winding her arms over his shoulders, bringing him down to press against her body. “We’re ok. Just take it slow.” 

He nodded, despite the fact that she couldn’t see him. Taking in a few long, deep breaths. He reached out again, his hands softly grazing her thighs, slowly making their way upwards to the sleeping shorts she was wearing, the ones that left little to the imagination, the ones that drove him absolutely crazy.

“Are you sure?” He asked her again. She nodded eagerly, her hips squirming, a silent plea to remove what separated them. 

Din swallowed the lump that rose in his throat and slowly pulled off the rest of her remaining clothes. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered as he hovered over her, placing a soft kiss to her hip bone and slowly making his way up the length of her body. “So perfect.”

She let out soft moans with every kiss he planted on her skin, her want reaching new heights. “Din, please. I need you.” She begged breathlessly. 

Din groaned softly, the sound of her voice, pleading for him was becoming too much to handle. He reached down, beginning to thumb at her clit, her wetness, her blatant need for him swelling a pride within him he never knew existed before he met her. 

The loud moan that escaped her at his touch had his own soft groan leaving his parted lips as he watched her body writhe beneath him.

“Do you need me to-”

“No, no, I need you.” She panted, her hands trailing down the length of his chest before gently grasping his aching length. 

Din tensed, his shoulders raising, his head dropping as his face creased with the effort it took to hold back. He quickly grabbed her wrist, stopping her movements on his cock. His heart was racing in his chest, but he found no anxious thoughts, no self deprecating worries.

He only thought of her. 

“I love you.” He breathed out, placing frantic kisses along the curve of her neck before he reached her lips. She eagerly kissed him back, her arms holding tightly to his shoulders, her fingers finding their way into his hair. 

“I love you.” 

With shaking hands, he gripped his length and slowly guided himself inside her. He immediately stilled, his mouth falling open with a silent moan. He gripped the sheets below her, curling them in his fists. 

“Din?” She called out, worried as to why he stopped so suddenly. 

“I’m… I just… I need a second.” He panted, forcing his eyes that had screwed shut to open slowly. “Are you ok?” He asked, his voice tense and low.

Iella bit her lip at the sound, bliss already overtaking her body and she nodded eagerly. “I’m perfect.” 

Din’s chest heaved and he began to move his hips slowly, thrusting in and out of her carefully, fearing that he would hurt her if he went any faster. 

Iella moaned softly, her nails digging into his shoulders as he moved. He felt incredible, but she needed more. Her hips gyrated, looking for the friction she desired. 

A choked groan escaped him, her name leaving his lips in a breathless pant as he inched even deeper inside her at her movements. 

“Fuck! Stop, stop, please.” He begged, his hands anchoring themselves to her hips, forcing her to still before he lost all sense of control, which he was hanging on to by a thread. 

“You ok?”

He nodded frantically, his gaze locked onto her fervently. He gently moved a strand of hair that was hanging in front of her face. He wished he could take that blindfold off, that he could see her eyes in the throes of passion. 

He wished he didn’t need to hide himself from her. 

Din kissed her fiercely, moving past his reservations, and began to thrust into her slowly again. A loud groan sounded from him, forcing his lips off hers as she moved her legs to wrap around his waist and he found himself unable but to move even faster, his hips meeting hers at a rapid, more frantic pace.

Iella’s head fell back, her lips parting with a cry of his name. She held onto him tighter as white lights swirled in her vision as he moved with vigour. 

Breathless, desperate moans fell off his lips without any regard, her name choked out amongst what she could barely understand. 

“Please, please.” He panted.

He didn’t know what he was begging for, all he knew was he felt weightless, a soaring feeling bubbling within him he had never felt before. It overwhelmed him, it soon became too much. He gripped onto her hair tightly, his forehead leaned against hers in the most erotic keldabe kiss they’d ever shared. 

He needed something, anything, to anchor him to reality, but it was quickly becoming a failing effort.

He could no longer control the coil inside him that grew tighter and tighter, only seconds from snapping altogether.

He looked down at her, watching with hunger in his eyes as her back arched beneath him, her hands coasting down the length of his back, her nails casting a pleasurable ache that made his jaw clench as he tried his hardest to stifle the noises he seemed to have no control over.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…. oh, it’s… too much.” He panted breathlessly, slightly disbelieving what he was feeling. 

Iella could feel tingles erupt over every inch of her body, down from her head to her toes that curled in ecstasy. Din’s movements were frantic and slightly sloppy from inexperience, but it was enough to make her head spin. 

The grunts that escaped him sent shivers down her spine. The way the muscles in his back fluttered and tensed under her hands as he moved had her repressing a shiver. She wished she could see his face, she wished she could see what he looked like in pleasure. 

The slack jaw, the wide eyes, the pure bliss the covered his expression would’ve been her undoing if she could have seen. 

“Din… uh, yes, yes, please!” She breathed out blissfully. 

His eyes closed, his face turned into a grimace as he felt himself beginning to slip over the edge. He quickly moved his hand, his fingers finding her clit as he began to rub in circles, desperate to get her over the edge with him.

The build up was slow, a feeling stirring in his stomach, before he was hurdled over the cliff so quickly, it left him unable to utter any words except a shout of pure relief as he reached ecstacy. 

His body trembled, a shuddering gasp of her name escaping him as he made sure to keep the movements of hips in a desperate attempt to make sure she wasn’t left wanting.

Hearing his pleasure sent her over the edge. 

Iella clung onto him tightly, her body arching, her forehead rested on his shoulder as she became rigid in her final moments. 

Her mouth dropped open, a cry of his name echoing in the room as she reached her climax. 

The fluttering of her walls around his twitching and spent length made him whine and he wrapped his arms around her, only holding her tighter when he felt her body shaking against his. 

The only thing heard in the room was the echoing pants of the lovers wrapped in each other’s arms, refusing to let go of each other. 

After a few minutes, as they both came down from their highs, Din raised his head, looking down at her blindfolded gaze. His hand twitched, his brain telling him to rip the thing from her eyes and look into the spacy gaze of her pleasure he was so desperate to see with his own eyes, not just from behind his visor.

He cradled her cheeks and leaned down, pressing a slow kiss to her lips which didn’t last as long as they would’ve hoped due to them both being out of breath still. 

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” He whispered. 

The breathless Mando’a she whispered back sent shivers down his spine and he tightened his grip on her, suddenly feeling entirely overwhelmed by the love he felt for her. 

~~

*Hides face* Enjoy xx

[multifandom-girlie]

𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

Imagine requested by @theshyprincess​: Your his girlfriend and he is trying to train you to be a hunter but the sexual tension becomes too much

Pairings: Jeremy x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Do you know what it's like to have a undeniably good looking, incredibly strong vampire Hunter boyfriend ? No. Well let me explain it. It's like that sweet boy you date in highschool that's had sex alot but still asks if your okay continously all through out having sex with him. Yes it's sweet but it get's a little annoying after a while. That is what me and Jeremy are like. He's the sweetest guy on the earth but he's so overprotective. I mentioned the fact it was a little irritating him being so protective all the time and luckily it went well for me.

4 Months Ago-

“Jer ?”

“Yes baby ?”

“I just wanted to talk.”

“Okay..?”

“It's nothing bad, don't worry.”

“Okay. Stopped worrying, what's up ?”

“You know we promised when we first started dating how we would always be honest with each other about how we felt ? Even if it's how we make eachother feel ?”

“Yes..? Y/N, have I upset you or something ? I'm starting to worry again.”

“Jer, stop..it’s nothing bad. It's just that your really overprotective.”

“Well yeah, I know I'm a little protective over you but that's just cause I love you and I would do anything for you.”

“No Jer, you don't understand. Your too protective, sometimes yes it's very cute. You know when you get protective in front of other men but when you stop me going out the house after certain hours or how I always have too be around you. You literally stand outside the door when I'm peeing. I'm not saying I don't appreciate, I do. It's nice to know someone cares so much, but sometimes it's too much. I need my own space. You know I love being around you but I'm going crazy Jer.”

“That was alot to hear. I'm sorry Y/N but I didn't know I was so bad. It's just I care about you alot and you know why I'm so worried all the time. I'm a Hunter you know I can protect myself, you can't.”

“Well how about we make a deal ?”

“It depends.”

“If you let me have my own space, you know let me hang with people who aren't you all the time and dump my curfew....I will train with you, like you wanted me to months ago. I will activate my Hunter gene.”

“You promise you'll actually train ? Your won't just say this, so you can go for girls night or hang with Stefan ? You will actually train, if I back off a little ?”

“Yes, of course not and yes.”

“Okay. Deal.”

“Deal, I love you Jer !”

Present Time-

So here we were in the woods, getting ready for another session. We’ve been having 4 hour sessions with 3 five minute breaks...everyday for the last 4 months. I'm glad we are sticking to the deal. You know he has backed off, I've been for a year's worth of girl's nights already and me and Stefan even went on a road trip and couple times, without Jeremy. 

The only down side to sticking to the deal though was we weren't really as lovey dovey as usual. We haven't had many dates or movie nights. All our conversations are either us arguing-which although is very rare, it still happens-or it's talking about our sessions or what he's going to train me to do next. Also I think I'm going crazy. I love him for doing all this but god I'm so frustrated. We haven't had sex in 4 months and it's bloody killing me.

I'm just glad that our anniversary is approaching because I'm hoping he will halt for one day. I guess we'll see.

Anyway so last session there was a bit of a problem when we got home yesterday my pants ripped as I was putting them on...so I had to wear an old pair of joggers, let me tell you now it was scorching. It was not good, so after our session I showered and headed to the mall with Caroline. Who helped me find some new gym wear that wouldn't rip because my ass and hips were to big to fit into my bloody pants. I also decided to get a new sports bra aswell because my other ones too tight anyway.

Yesterday-

“How are you and Jeremy then ? Are the sessions going well ?”

“Yeah they are actually but that's the only thing that is.”

“What are you talking about ? Oh sweetie, no, I can smell the frustration all over you.”

“I haven't had sex in 4 months Care.”

“Omg sweetie. Oooo, I know what we can do. Get the sexiest gym wear we can find. See if that will make him lose concentration. If he doesn't even flinch, you need to tell him. There's no way he can look at you and not want to shag you.”

“Shag ? Care I think you've been hanging out at the Mikaelsons too much.”

“Shut up.”

15 minutes later-

“This is perfect !”

Present time- 

I changed into my new outfit I got. I'm going to be so pissed if he doesn't take the fucking hint.

I went outside to the car and we drove off. Jeremy didn't even spare me a glance. God he's lucky if I don't “accidently” punch him today. We got out the car and he immediately go into position. I jogged over. Nothing. 

Obviously I'm not going to make the cut for Baywatch anytime soon.

We walked towards eachother and I threw a punch only for it to be dodged. He grabbed my wrist and span me around so my back was to his chest, I elbowed him and jumped on his back surprising him. He fell on his stomach but lifted himself up, even with me straddled on his back. He flipped so I was on my back and held me down. At this point I knew he was distracted, he could taste the tension just as much as I could but I was determined to win this. So whilst he was admiring how submissive I most likely looked under him.  

With my knees bent, I flattened my feet on the ground. My hand gripped his hips and I thrusted my hips upwards. He flew forward and caught himself by propping his hands up above my head. I still had a tight hold of his hips and I twisted my own, so I could thread my knees in-between his legs. I wrapped my legs around him and rolled us over, so I was now on top.

Now I couldn't hide the smirk on my face, showing I was proud of myself. He had a proud grin on his face, that was the first time getting out from under him-minus in bed-and it wasn’t using a technique he taught me. I just thought it was a logical solution. 

His eyes projecting his admiration and mass of lust into mine. His hands reached up to cup my face and pulled me down into a loving kiss. As I pulled away, he caught sight of my breasts peeping out my bra. I felt one of his hand loosen on my hips and trail up my body. I grabbed his wrist pushed it away and walked to the car. As soon as I was about the open my door, I was grabbed and pushed against the back door behind mine. 

My breath caught in my throat, a little surprised at the action. He leaned down and kissed me on the lips ravenously. I wrapped my arms around his neck whilst one of his were raising my legs from the ground. I clenched them around his waist and tangled my feet together. Now above him a little, I continued to kiss him whilst tugging on the short locks of his mousy hair. 

He still had a strong hold of me as he stepped back and felt around the door for the handle. When he found it he jerked the handle and opened the door with ease. He gently laid me down in the back seats and got in closing the door.

I hoisted myself up and perched on his lap. He leaned in but instead of kissing my swollen lips again he bombarded my neck with sloppy kisses. He directed his mouth to my collar bone and starting sucking slightly aswell as kissing. I threw my head back in pleasure and huffed quietly. He then moved to my boobs and started to kiss the tops of them and down my cleavage before peeling my bra off and circling my nipples with the tip of his younger and gradually enveloping them with his mouth. 

I felt that he wasn't undressed enough for my liking so I lifted his shirt off his body over his head and threw it beside us. I will never get enough of this man's body. Damn. He placed his hands on my ass but a couple seconds later pulled away from my boobs.

“When di-how is it th-woah.”

I giggled a little and started blushing a little. 

“It’s thanks to your workouts.”

He grinned and tugged the waistband of my pants but struggled to slip them off my ass. I pulled them off myself, since I knew he didn't want to break them. He saw my white thong and groaned whilst throwing his head back. I giggled and pulled down the elastic waist shorts he had on. I palmed him through his boxers, earning a slight puff. I smirked and pulled down his boxers, down to his ankles.

I kissed up his thigh closer to his thick cock. A slight breath brushing his member. My lips hovering around the tip of cock and gradually wrapping around them, gently tightening the grip. 

The moisture of my lips making it easier to inhale is big member. The nib of my tongue orbiting the head of his penis and whilst doing so gathering the pre cum, he'd let discharged. I continued this action for a couple of minutes before driving his whole cock down my throat. I did this repeatedly for a minute or so. The head hitting my throat with every jolt.

He was getting closer and closer, I could tell because of the giddy pulsation his cock was performing in my mouth. He couldn't help but nudge his hips in my mouth a little more so I could finish him off. After he started that process my little hand began to pump the base of his cock whilst my tongue was toying with the tip. Instantaneously, a smooth white liquid shot down my throat.

I lifted myself up a bit and let him taste himself on my lips. He ripped the white thong I had on but apologised straight after. I giggled and kissed him lovingly again. I raised myself a little and positioned myself comfortably on top of him. His pink tip stroking my clit in upwards motions before seeking my entrance and slipping himself in.

I bit my lip and threw my head back in pleasure. Whereas his head fell into my chest and groaned. I started to raise myself and rapidly force myself back down again. Once he was fully encased in side of me, I hoisted myself up and forced myself back down getting faster and faster with every movement. 

Steam painting the windows. The heat compelling us to break a sweat. The moans, groans and slapping of skin the single things to be heard for miles. My own pace was becoming moderate, I didn't know how long I could keep going for especially since the work out we did not 15 minutes before.  He could undoubtedly sense that I was lacking energy, most likely because of the early start each morning too. So to murder the sense of guilt he was feeling, he grabbed a tighter hold on my hips and rammed his hips in an upwards motion. Pounding into me relentlessly.

“I’m so close Jer !”

“Go on baby.”

I promptly delivered my juices at a rapid speed. They drizzled down his dense cock and chased his second orgasm down. It didn't take long before he unleashed his orgasm. We sat there for a minute or two.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you Jer.”

Nothing could be more perfect in that moment.

Except that was truly wrong. 

No protection.

He didn't pull out.

We are both human.

Shit.

MASTERLIST

[myristicisms]

Mitsuri | @fallesto says;;

“ You know, you really… reach people, when you try. ”

Words of praise had been something the eldest Rengoku had struggled yet managed to grow used to, no matter how small or even back handed in some cases they were, they were always something he'd come to appreciate and bask in as though he'd die should he not demonstrate his gratitude.

Kanroji was often of a select few that had always had something kind to say about everyone, a trait Kyojuro had always come to appreciate and even grow envious of at times; Her kindness was beyond admirable and optimism often rivaled his own at times and thus it came as no shock when she'd parted her lips and spoke just as kindly as she often did.

Corners to barely pursed lips quirk upwards into a smile, tranquil and warm as it always was when in the presence of the pink haired woman. While he was often less inclined to express his feelings, his thoughts, Kanroji always had a way of reaching into his skull and pulling his musings from the spot he'd always kept them tucked away, she'd known him just as well as Senjuro does after all.

“ Sometimes I feel like I'm not trying hard enough, ” A soft laugh, bitter for a moment before he continues on. “ Although that's only with a select few who I've found simply don't want to accept what I tell them. I am grateful I have people like you to chat with, Kanroji; You've been nothing but an inspiration and wonderful friend and I know I cannot ever demonstrate just how appreciative I am of your presence. ”

[alittleimagine]

a helping hand pt. 12 - the end

oliver queen x reader

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11

The goal, originally, had been to order takeout, jump in a nice warm shower, and relax while you waited on Oliver. You had managed to order takeout (far too much Chinese food just in case Oliver was hungry when he got back) and you had showered, but nothing had been relaxing.

How was a person supposed to relax when they weren’t sure if their mayor/vigilante friend wanted to kiss them? It was impossible. Clearly.

You watched the news for any sign of the Arrow and his actions, but after an hour of nothing relevant, you’d flipped it to cartoons. 

Then you paced. And paced. And paced some more. You paced until it led you to the little in-unit laundry room at the end of the hall and ended up folding the laundry you’d meant to fold two days ago. 

You’d anxiously waited for Oliver before, but it had always been primarily fueled by concern for his safety. And, while that was a factor, there were other thoughts rattling around in your head. It was a different experience all around. 

Hours had passed and sleep began to weigh heavy on your eyelids. You wrapped the blanket from the back of the couch over your arms and slumped comfortably into the cushions. 

The scrape of the window being opened woke you with a start. 

You blinked, peering over the back of the couch to see Oliver in full costume stepping into the apartment. 

It only took him a moment’s observation to realize you’d been sleeping because he immediately apologized. “I’m sorry. It’s late. We got… held up.” The voice modulator had been turned off before he’d stepped in and the voice that came out was all Oliver Queen.

You shook your head. “It’s okay. Is everyone alright?” You asked as you scooted up into a sitting position, sweeping the blankets off the couch cushion so he could sit. 

The sudden wake up had wiped the worry of potentially kissing him for the moment. Perhaps the portion of your brain that controlled anxiety hadn’t yet caught up with the rest of your mind, but all you could focus on was the roll of his shoulders when he sat beside you and leaned back.

His hood came off first, then the mask, and soon he was just all Oliver again. “Everyone’s alright, just took a while.” He said. 

Your knee pressed against his thigh when you adjusted to sit cross-legged on the couch, but neither of you moved. His hand fell into his lap, smoothing the fabric of his pants, and settled next to your knee. You tried not to look at it. 

“I should have just texted you and let you sleep.” He said with a small smile. “I’m destroying your sleep schedule.”

You waved a hand as if brushing the idea away. “Sleep schedule schleep schmedule.“ His lip quirked. “I would have been worried if you hadn’t come.” 

“Well, we can’t have that.”

You tried not to smile. “No, we can’t. So you just have to be extra careful and check in often so I don’t start going gray.”

His look was equal parts amused and serious when he nodded. “I can do that.”

You hadn’t meant to look down at his lips, but the smile he was trying to keep under control was so distracting. And just like that, the events of last night came rushing to the forefront of your mind.

Before you could stop yourself the words were spilling out. “Were you going to kiss me last night?”

As soon as you’d spoken your eyes went wide and you could feel the heat of a flush rushing to your face. If the cushions of your couch could have opened up beneath you and swallowed you whole right then and there you would have thanked it. 

He looked as surprised at your outburst as you felt.

How could you take this back? How could you grab those words out of the air and shove them back in your big dumb mouth?

Surely he knew some meta from Central City who could travel back in time and stop you before your brain decided to just give up on you and betray you in such a heinous manner. 

“Yes.”

The look of panic on your face morphed to sheer dumbfoundedness. “What.”

You’d meant it as a question, but the inflection just wasn’t there. Your brain wasn’t processing right, you were sure of that. 

Oliver licked his lips (if your eyes immediately focused on them that was totally out of your control) and shifted, just slightly, to face you more directly. “I was going to kiss you last night. Before we were called away.”

“Oh.” Your voice came out higher pitched than you meant it to.

A beat passed. The warm, fluttery feeling in your stomach didn’t seem to be going anywhere and you were sure it was stopping your brain from working how it was supposed to. 

“Is that alright?”

Oliver- vigilante by night mayor by day Oliver Queen looked almost nervous. 

It snapped you out of your daze. “Yes!” Too eager, too eager. You closed your eyes and tried not to embarrass yourself any further. After a breath, you looked at him again, heart thundering in your ears at the smile on his face. “Yes. Yeah. It’s okay. Totally okay.”

Oliver ducked his head for just a moment and you knew he was trying to hide his smile, but it was too late. It was burned into your brain. 

The hand on his thigh reached out for yours, the gloves warm against your skin. His voice was low, almost a whisper when he spoke. “Come here.”

Oliver met you halfway as you leaned forward to kneel beside him. You were sure he could feel your pulse jumping wildly in your neck when his fingers threaded through your hair. 

He was only a breath away and you realized he was waiting for you, giving you the chance to change your mind. You closed the distance. 

His lips were softer than you’d imagined. For a moment the kiss was nothing more than a gentle press, then his mouth slanted over yours and you were lost. Oliver’s free hand moved to your waist, pulling you close, and you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck. 

When you ran your fingers through the short hair at the base of his neck he smiled against your lips.

It was Oliver who pulled away. Your lips trailed after his and the smile on his face when you opened your eyes left you feeling light and warm.

Somehow you’d ended up sat on his lap though you were sure you’d been kneeling on the couch only a moment ago. You felt his hand flex at your waist. 

You wanted desperately to kiss him again. So you did. 

He let you pull him close easily for just a few seconds before he pulled back again. 

The look on your face, frustrated as it must have been, seemed to amuse him because he struggled to bite back a smile. When he tugged you back to him it wasn’t for another kiss, but rather to press his forehead against yours. 

Oliver sighed. 

“This isn’t easy.” He said after a moment. 

Your brows knitted together. Perhaps your mind was still kiss-addled, but you had no idea what he meant. “Kissing me isn’t easy?”

The chuckle he gave seemed to catch him by surprise more than you. “No. Kissing you is very easy.” You tried not to smile too wide. “Kissing me is what’s difficult. Being with me is what’s difficult, Y/N.”

Now you understood why he kept pulling back. 

He continued. “There’s always something. There’s always someone who wants me dead. And when I’m not running around at night I’m still the mayor. It’s… a lot. I understand if it’s not-”

Your kiss cut him short. Your hands pressed to his cheeks to keep him steady against you for just a moment. This time you were the one to pull back, his lips chasing after you. 

“I know. I do. I understand. I don’t care.” You needed him to understand this. To know you were going into this with eyes wide open and it didn’t matter. “You’re worth it.”

He swallowed hard and your eyes trailed the bob of his adam’s apple. His mouth moved as though he meant to say something and you shook your head. 

“Please,” you said, “don’t try to talk me out of kissing you. If you don’t want to kiss me that’s one thing.” He looked ready to protest. “But please don’t do the self-sacrifice thing. Please let me make my own decisions.”

His eyes scanned your face- looking for what you didn’t know, but he seemed to find it because he was pulling you in again. 

You held him tight, pressing yourself as close as your positions would allow. A vague part of mind wondered if the flutter in your stomach would ever fade. You had a hard time believing it would when Oliver’s tongue pressed against yours the way it did. 

This time when he pulled back he trailed gentle kisses along your jaw. “I should go.” He muttered between kisses. “Let you sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak.” You said, moving your head to give him better access. Your fingers raked through his short hair. “I have zero intention of ever sleeping again.”

You felt his laugh rather than hear it. He tucked his face into the crook of your neck and laughed to himself.  “What am I going to do with you?” He muttered.

Kisses, you decided, were amazing, but nothing felt better than making him laugh. “I mean, I thought it was pretty clear I wanted you to kiss me.”

He was still smiling when he pulled back to look at you. “I guess I can do that.”

[the-clari-net]

A Mother’s Intuition

AO3

Maddie Fenton prides herself on being a woman of science. A woman full of reasoning and logic who has spent her entire career working on showing her credibility by proving that ghosts exist; not only that, but to show the dangers that they hold to the living. After so many years of being mocked and belittled she finally got her big break with that ghost portal. Once ghosts started coming into Amity Park, she knew she had something tangible that would shake the foundations of the scientific community that have been perceived as Law. Everyone would know that there exists a space that these laws don’t apply (in more ways than one). She and Jack would finally get their brilliance recognized, and her children could finally look at their parents with pride knowing that they’re the first to discover and pioneer this new branch of science never before studied by mankind.

  With that being said, Maddie was the one who always brought a more realistic approach to the ideas Jack came up with. They made a good team like that, covering each other’s blind spots to the best of their abilities. Maddie was seen as the rational one, less emotionally swayed compared to her jovial and at times overly enthusiastic husband. That’s not a bad thing really, since it keeps Maddie grounded in not becoming too absorbed in observing at a microscopic level and he forces her to step back and relook at her project with new eyes with a wider perspective. This is all to say that Maddie is an observant person. Her profession relies on her ability to analyze and being able to report and reflect on those observations.

All this needs to be mentioned because Maddie has been feeling strange lately. Well, perhaps lately isn’t the right word. This is a feeling that has existed within her for awhile, it’s just become impossible to ignore the longer it stays. This is a blind spot that has grown too large to push aside.

Dread is one way to describe this feeling. Anxiety is another. At its worst peak, paranoia might be more applicable.

Right now Maddie is sitting at her dinner table with her family. It’s a Sunday night, she had ordered pizza earlier in the evening because the radioactive hot dogs are holding yesterday’s leftovers hostage. It’s a normal evening for the Fentons all things considered.

Except for the slightly shaky hands, which is strange for a woman who has skilled precision with a scalpel. Except for the pounding in Maddie’s chest, her pulse has been quickening the longer they’re having dinner, and she’s starting to hear that same pulse pounding behind her ears. Except for the slight chill that never leaves her despite sitting next to her husband who runs so warm he might as well be a personal heater.

There’s the tightening of her chest that leaves her struggling to breathe properly. It feels as if at any moment she may have to start gasping for breath like her sister Alicia used to as a kid before she got an inhaler to treat her asthma.

Ultimately, these are all the signs Maddie feels when she’s scared. It’s been a while since she’s felt true fear that wasn’t outweighed by adrenaline and excitement. She usually can hold her own against any human and she’s smart to never fight a ghost at close range. She can’t remember the last time she had felt helpless enough to fear like this.

As a woman who is a master at martial arts, she’s had a lot of past experience in her training going up against powerful opponents. There were certain opponents (especially in her early years of training) that made her feel like she was prey, that if she lost her focus for a moment, she would be pulverized. This is the same feeling only a thousand times worse.

Maddie has been trying to deny the connections she’s been weaving since the first prick of nervousness first reached her. She was a woman of science, she needed evidence to support her conclusion; correlation does not equal causation. However, her martial arts background has told her to trust your instincts; it’s a survival trait warning of a potential danger. The conflict of these two perspectives have been arguing in her head about the odd common thread with these spikes of anxiety.

These feelings only seem to appear whenever Danny was around.

It was such a silly observation at first, more of an offhand thought. But as time went on, and her nerves were worsening, the thought stayed with her in the back of her mind.

Maddie’s mind tries to be rational about the ordeal, trying to convince herself that these feelings of anxiety could be due to stress, or some effect of the ghost portal. The fact that something primal is screaming at her that her son –the boy who currently has a piece of pepperoni stuck to the side of his lip and is pouting at Jazz—is a threat to her livelihood is what worries her.

Could he be possessed by a ghost? No, that’s ridiculous; his eyes are blue, he can’t be possessed. They look a little brighter than normal. That’s the kitchen lighting, Danny is NOT involved in this.

It feels like it has to be ghost related. This feeling of dread is common with several of the ghosts that have appeared in Amity Park before. She’s noticed that the more powerful ones are more likely to cause this instinctual feeling compared to the little ghost blobs who only cause a shiver to your spine once physical contact is made.

“—right Mom?”, Maddie jumps a bit and looks up to realize that Jazz was looking directly at her. She notices that the pizza box is empty, and the table’s been cleared, except for her own plate. Was she out of it for that long?

“Sorry honey, I didn’t hear what you said. Could you repeat the question?”. She tried to offer a smile, but she could tell looked more like a grimace. Jack was looking at her worriedly, but he knew better than to push her to talk in front of the kids. Jazz looked back with a soft smile, but her brows were furrowed.

Maddie didn’t look in Danny’s direction.

“I was just saying I should have the leftover slice of pizza for tomorrow instead of Danny because I have seniority rights, right?”

Maddie blinked at Jazz for a moment before recollecting herself and standing up from her seat and moving to the sink to wash the dishes, forcefully ignoring the back of her mind screaming at her to run as far away as she can from here and never look back.

“Now you two, there’s no need to fight like that. Why don’t I just give you both some lunch money for tomorrow and we’ll call it even?” She smiled at Jazz, subtly angling herself so her back wasn’t facing towards Danny and kept him in her peripheral vision.

She doesn’t want to think of why she did that.

--

Later that night, Maddie couldn’t sleep. She managed to convince Jack that she was feeling better after dinner, and now she’s wide awake trying to remember why that fear felt so familiar. She recognized the unease that only comes from being in close contact with a ghost. It’s the same feeling that lingered in her system after having a ghost possess her; there’s a specific rolling in her stomach that comes from it. The feelings she got during dinner tonight felt like a specific ghost, something about it felt familiar but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

When she finally went to sleep, she was restless with dreams of sharp bright blue eyes, looming shadows that suffocated her, and sweet awkward smiles that slowly turned into menacing and haunting grins.

--

The rest of the week had been a pretty regular one. Jack and Maddie had spent most of the week building some new weapons that could help capture Phantom once and for all. Because of this, they had been eating in their lab. If Maddie felt relief at using her work as a shield to avoid family dinner, that’s her secret to keep.

The week had been quiet with no battles or major ghost sightings until a massive ghost battle broke out between Phantom and another one of the reoccurring ghosts on Friday. Skulker was the name of the ghost if what she had overheard from her sonar dish on the family RV was correct. It was all the way across town. Jack was behind the wheel, and Maddie was checking over the new prototype they had been working on all week that would hopefully weaken a ghost’s powers. They were hoping that Phantom could be their first test subject.

As they were about halfway to the battle, Maddie suddenly got a prickly feeling in her neck. She was well acquainted with that feeling when nearing ghosts, so she dismissed it as usual. But it got worse the closer they reached their destination. Her body slowly began to tense up, more, her breaths were becoming shallower, and her mouth had suddenly run very dry.

No… it can’t be…

There they were in front of Skulker and Phantom and all Maddie could do was tense up in terror and barely stop herself from letting out a whimper. This feels too familiar, he feels like…

Phantom suddenly crashes on top of their windshield, he groans and begins to lift himself off the hood of the RV when for a brief moment, his eyes meet Maddie’s. He sends a sheepish smile and begins to fly up towards Skulker, immediately striking him down with an ectoblast.

Meanwhile, Maddie feels all the blood drain from her face and she feels her eyes begin to fill up with tears. Jack is yelling about that darn ghost damaging his RV, but she can barely focus. She recognized the feeling now. The interaction between the two of them didn’t even last a minute, yet it is staying with her all the same.

The smile Phantom gave reminded her of a black-haired boy who would get caught staying up late looking at his telescope. A boy who would give her that same smile whenever he was confronted about skipping class and missing his assignments. She sees that smile every day in her own home.

It looked so odd, having that smile come from a boy with bright white hair, and eyes that glowed toxic green. The smile was sharper, with incisors that were just short of becoming fangs. But it was still recognizable.

She can no longer deny it, Phantom and Danny are connected. Danny even leaves her with the same sense of terror and fear that only a ghost as powerful as Phantom could do. It feels more potent with Phantom; looking him in the eye for that moment almost made her scream bloody murder.

Jack was never as attuned to the emotional effects that ghosts brought on due to his natural bravery and confidence (she has a theory about his family bloodline having adopted some traits that could block out these senses of fear which leads them to being better ghost hunters). However, even Jack had once mentioned that he felt unnerved by Phantom, which says a lot about the power that child ghost must hold. But to think that powerful monster is somehow connected to her son was a situation she never would have considered. Was he possessed?

When did it happen? Was it around the time that Maddie first began feeling unnerved?

How didn’t you notice? The back of her mind whispered to her. You’re his mother, aren’t you?

The weight of her realization begins to set it. The burden of fearing her son with no tangible reason for doing so. Her own neglect and obliviousness about missing this massive part of her son’s life fills her with guilt. Suddenly the weapon in her hand, ready to be used against Phantom (Danny?) makes her nauseous.

She feels her body beginning to shut down and go into autopilot. Maddie dazedly notices that she and her husband are parked in the middle of a street, in easy range to get blasted or crushed, or incinerated or possessed by these ghosts. She is in no condition to fight.

She feels a little hysterical thinking about her own safety when her son (or some possessed version of him) is out there fighting a ghost after literally crashing into an RV with military grade protection.

“Jack, we should go home”, Maddie hoarsely interrupts her husband’s tangent.

He looks like he was about to protest until he saw his wife’s bloodshot eyes, holding back tears and white as a sheet. Without further prompting, he turned the car around and as soon as the stiffening fear had melted away from Maddie’s shoulders did she finally allow the tears to fall.

[yanderecandystore]

Can we get some content for how the Android darling and Ms. Bright would meet?

In this [🍰🍑🤖] we get a glimpse of what their relationship is like and a lil mention of how things have worked out- But let's see how it played out from the a.is perspective.

Hi boo, I hope you're doing great, I'm very sorry for the long ass waiting- Sadly I may warn y'all that I have gone through many stages while writing this: h 0 r ny, corny, and angsty. This is actually pretty heavy, as I tried pulling some of the loose threads that I left all over Ingrid's posts (I still need to give her an bio ;-; I'm sorry y'all-)

So this is all over the place, since this is a fic I've been writing for a long time.

Also I know jackshit about robotics, and I think this fic shows how much I don't know anything XD

TW: Family issues related to: LGBTQ identity // very angsty // Ingrid is very rude, but she also struggles a lot during this- // socially distant // socially awkward // being misinterpreted/having a hard time socializing //

Tags: angy sad lady // ownership dynamic // this is basically the reader reminiscing about the past (continuing it from where Happy Lies left off) // the reader is low-key a simp at times- // master x servant dynamic, possessive behavior and a lot of yelling // just angsty really, I'm so sorry //

����꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Happy birthday, mistress [Yandere!CEO OC x A.I!Reader - Short Fanfiction]

3,763 words

Whenever you remember your first day of activation, or more accurately your first day of actually being able to be activated for more than five seconds (you can't remember it fully, but you're aware that because of your complex design, you had passed through a lot of prototype phases before you could properly function-), you almost feel an odd sense of nostalgia, maybe due to the fact it was indeed the most important day of your existence as an android.

It was Ms.Bright's nineteenth birthday, when she would be handed the corporation that has been passed down by generations. And not only would she inherit the company, but also a beautifully designed a.i assistant made to help Ms.Bright's every need. You were made to be an easy communication center from Ms.Bright to the employees, as Ms.Bright's had a hard time communicating with people and expressing herself.

At first, she didn't seem to enjoy the idea very much- It was clear that she considered you to be quite annoying and useless. And- Well- It did hurt at first, after all, you were built to help her and be her friend no matter what.

So hearing her be mean towards you was… Very tough at first. Your first day as her assistant wasn't easy, you ended up getting in her way most of the time- And since she also didn't know exactly what she was doing, she got overwhelmed by so many things going down in one single day.

Ingrid has always dreamed of being in power of the company- Actually, now that you know her a little more- You can positively say she was probably just stressed at having to deal with so many responsibilities so suddenly, even if it has been her lifelong wish to inherit the company.

And even if it seems impossible at times, she would still come back strong and find a way to deal with it. That's something you really admire about her.

Your first week on the job was basically just trying to get accustomed and trying to learn everything you needed to do- While also trying to understand Ms.Bright as best as you could. Now… You weren't built to say this- And- And of course you don't think like this anymore, but…. You used to think she was really mean.

Frightening, even.

Now that you're all alone waiting for her to get back from work, you can't help but feel like replaying those moments inside your head.

"{... Replaying recorded conversation n°000050: "My second day at work"...}"

" Oh, what are you doing here?"

" Morning Ms.Bright! I-I was rechecking the files from yesterday and I was trying my best to reorganize them, a-after the incident-"

" The "incident" that you caused yesterday?"

" Well, yes, of course! I wanted to fix things up before you came back, I'm really sorry for being so reckless, I promise I won't do it again, I was just-"

"It 's fine. You don't need to worry about it."

" But… But I thought-"

" The files you had messed with weren't really all that important, and besides I'm sure there are copies all around the place. Sigh, who am I kidding- In reality, I should be the one apologizing for my behavior yesterday."

"...."

" I recognize that I shouldn't have treated you the way that I did, in a sense it's my fault you lost those files in the first place."

" … Well, it's nothing really mistress, I'm the one who should-"

" No, don't even finish it. You shouldn't have to apologize and shouldn't have spent the night wasting your battery on this-"

"...."

".... You know what, do whatever- I sometimes forget that you are… Nevermind, come back to my office as soon as you can."

"{... End of recorded conversation n°000.000.050… }"

You never knew what she was going to say, but you remember not being able to ask her that- As you were afraid of her potentially getting mad at you for asking too many questions. She always seemed so ruthless at times.

You remember the time you went to a family event with her, a family party, where an incident happened and she was absolutely livid. Your relationship with her wasn't so pretty at the time, you don't know why but- Your mistress didn't seem to trust you as much as you wish she did at the time.

"{... Replaying recorded conversation n°000.001.588: "First party ever- And it was very unpleasant" ...}"

" What's the matter with you?! Why can't you follow simple instructions- I told you to stay here and not mess around."

" I'm. So. Sorry. Mistress-"

" Even your vocal module is broken- Who told you to enter that pool in the first place?? You can't tell me you did something so stupid all on your own."

" I. Slipped.-"

" Am I a joke to you? I've said tell me who gave you the order to jump in the goddamn pool while everyone else was inside- Don't you dare start lying to me."

" … One of the. Party guests. Lost something. Inside the water. I tried helping them. But I started to. Malfunction."

" … Sigh, okay. Continue."

" It wasn't. Their fault. I did it. On my own. I was just- Trying. To help."

" By throwing yourself inside a pool when you're well aware of the damage the water can cause to your inner systems?!"

" I'm sorry!"

" You could have- No, you SHOULD have called someone else to help you, I can't believe it- You could have drowned in there and I wouldn't even be aware of that since I was inside the house, [Y/n]!"

" …. But Ms.Bright. I can't drown-"

" Yeah, yeah- I know you-... I know you can't drown."

" … Listen, you could have still gotten yourself hurt okay? You could have permanently damaged your systems, and if I wasn't made aware of what happened, I wouldn't have been able to take you out of the water in time, okay?"

"... Sigh, I just realized how much I have been yelling, everyone is probably scared now that I've made such a scandal. This… Isn't really a new thing to me, I'm accustomed to ruining parties like this. I'll have to apologise later to everyone. [Y/n], please just- When I ask you to stay still, please listen to me. I was worried about you."

"...."

"{... End of recorded conversation n°000.001.588 ...}"

You can't deny it- Whenever she was truly irritated she could make any person next to her feel threatened, though the more you look at your recordings, you feel like she doesn't really want to be feared like this. Respected? Absolutely. Feared? Not ideal, but she takes it anyway.

You have a couple of different recordings here and there, your memories are separated into sections. You have recordings of events in several formats: pictures, videos, texts and audio recordings. Though the one you use the most is audio recordings, since videos take a very big space inside your mind, and pictures need context, otherwise they wouldn't be considered memories, right?

You can't have many memories at a time because most of your mind is supposed to be used to store the company's files, so you do have a couple of memories that you have deleted to make space for the Bright Vision's more secret/personal documents. Since Ingrid took you home yesterday, and said you won't be going to work for the company anymore, then maybe you can find somewhere else to store those files so you can make space for new memories with Ms.Bright.

First, you'll need to recheck some of your own memories to see if they're worth holding onto. There is probably a lot of junk in there that you won't be needing anymore, which can be a bit tedious and take some time, but you clearly have enough time on your hands to do so, considering how she is not home and- Well, you're pretty bored, you already done everything that she asked you to do.

Honestly, she gave such small tasks today, she probably didn't plan to change your work environment so suddenly.

After about an hour of research through your data you have realized that even if you have way too many files, it's kinda hard to delete them. At first you didn't mind the idea of deleting certain stuff, but now it feels a bit sad to erase parts of your memory, you just had so many good times and- And even the bad times are worth remembering, right?

It has been an hour of you just standing there, trying your best to not delete anything important while also revising each recording you have. Most files are a bit out of order, numerically speaking, but you don't mind that too much cause- Well, you can always reorganize them later.

… You never actually do that, but you like to think that one day you will, though.

After so many recordings of conversations, you found one who didn't seem to really belong in your head. You see, you always title every single thing inside your personal archives so that it doesn't get mixed with other files- All of your memories have a specific title so that you can have an idea of which is which.

The thing is- You don't remember this file, the title seems off, and it seems like it's incomplete. Oddly broken. Still, you decided to take a listen and try to remember what happened in this event.

"{... Replaying recorded conversation n°000.068.xxx: "I yell too much" ...}"

"...."

"...."

"...."

This is a very silent audio, there seems to be some background noise happening, but you can't make out what's happening. This audio sounds distorted, edited maybe. Someone tried messing with your memories but they weren't able to completely erase this file.

Maybe they were inexperienced at the time.

"...."

"...."

"...."

You think you heard something, it sounded closer to you- It sounded like someone possibly sitting down next to you. You don't know who it is, or what it is

"...."

".... I'm such a mess. Why am I doing this? Why does this feels so-"

"...."

It seems like someone is speaking, but you're not speaking back. Even in this heavily edited audio, you can still make out what sounds to be a feminine voice.

".... I'm sorry for, well, using you this way. It feels- So, so weird."

"...."

".... I just want… No, I need to vent to you for a while, even if you won't remember what I'm going to say."

This audio gives you an odd sensation. You think you're starting to recognize who this is- But then again, who else could it be, if not Ms.Bright herself?

" I never did this before, with something so- Human like- With something so human looking. I used to record my thoughts on my phone but I thought I would never need to vent with an object before- But here I am! Making a fool of myself…"

"...."

The speaker, who you assume to be Ingrid, seems to be having a lot of trouble speaking, her voice is cracking and her breathing seems uneven. She sounds out of breath, and she takes a lot of pauses to be able to speak her mind.

"...."

".... I have…. Thought about opening myself in this way because- Because I have no one else to listen to it, and I guess I can only blame myself for it. I know I'm difficult, I know I'm rude and I know I come across as a tyrant to everyone else- I- I really don't know what 's wrong with me, okay?!"

" Years, and years, and years of training, of studying, of planning to become the very next owner of this corporation as it's already not only a job but also a very painful family tradition that I felt proud of! That I gave everything that I could to be part of! I remember wanting this so bad, I remember how I used to daydream about this stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid tradition when I was a little kid who just wanted to do more, to be more!"

".… I almost lost all of this. 19 years of my life that were threatened to be thrown in the trash just because I- Because I'm not his son??! Because I- I'm not his only "son" anymore??.... Who said I ever was- Who said I ever was his son…?"

".... I- I know all about the stupid, awful and extremely unnecessary tradition of passing the leadership from father to son, and to this very day- inside the same office all of my predecessors had went through- I still think that tradition is garbage. I always thought I wouldn't make it here, I always thought something would stop me from being the next face of Bright Vision."

".... I can't tell- If I always knew about this- I can't even imagine how I knew this considering the dumb kid that I was, but…"

".... I'm his daughter. I'm Mr.Bright's only daughter, and the only possible heir to this twisted company."

" The people outside think our only focus it's on robotics and technology of all kinds. I wish I could go back to thinking that too, it would have been so much simpler that way."

" After a very long fight about my rights as the heir to this- Company. My father thought it would be wise to move to the countryside. Far away from all of this. And to be fair, I was- So, so mad at him that I thought that him moving away from here and letting me be would be better, but every now and then I- I miss him. I miss him so much…."

"He sent me a birthday present today. After three years of absolute silence he sends me flowers and- And a gift card containing his number… And I- Called him despite everything, and even so to this day he can't even say my name- IT'S BEEN THREE YEARS AFTER HE LEFT ME ALL ALONE WITH THIS CURSED BUSINESS AND HE STILL CAN'T FUCKING. SAY. MY. NAME."

You felt scared at the sudden yelling, even if her voice was progressively getting more aggressive and louder, you still got caught up by the sudden yelling.

".... I'm- A mess- I know that now."

You can't understand what's going on, but it sounds like she started laughing… Or maybe crying? Probably both.

".... I'm just terrible at this. I always was, weren't I? I'm just terrible at these types of interactions- Maybe all of them! I just don't understand how to- How to do it?? I don't know anymore…."

".... That's why I have you, in the first place, isn't it?"

" I had such an awful time expressing myself that they gave me an overpriced doll to do it for me. When I first heard about this three years ago, I- I've felt so fucking pitiful."

" Can you imagine it? The CEO of such a big corporation is so difficult to deal with that she needs an overly glorified doll that can translate her words to the other employees! An a.i created just to help me, an absolute idiot!"

".... I've felt so angry at them- I felt so angry at him for having to build a robot just to be a comfort pet to the stressful work that I would have to do for the rest of my position as owner of Bright Vision Corp, and I was mad at you! You pissed me off to no end, and I- I just couldn't help but be frustrated at you, not for being in my way, but for being an reminder that I'm awful at this-"

"...."

Her sobs stopped her from continuing that sentence.

".... I've treated you so unfairly because of this. I- I made sure that whenever you looked at me you would feel terrified of me because that's the only way I thought I could be respected, that's the only way I thought you would listen to me, and yet you never did…. You weren't built to follow my every order perfectly, you were made to be literally my only friend, after 22 years, here you are- The only person that can get me isn't even an actual person-"

"..... And I forget this…! I forget this every time I look at your eyes, I forget how robotic you are whenever I see you helping others not because you were told to, but just because you thought you could."

"...."

".... I always forget that you're supposed to be just another robot… He really did think about everything when designing you."

".... I always catch myself being awful towards you, being- Being excessively rude, not because of my way of talking but because of my own petty feelings towards you as my assistant… As my friend, as my android, as my-"

"...."

"..... I'm so sorry for being like this, you don't deserve to have someone who is constantly being mean towards you be considered your boss- Your boss, your friend- ...Sigh, even your owner…"

" I'm sorry [Y/n], I'm really, really sorry- But it doesn't matter how many times I say that- I don't know if I can ever make it up to you. Words won't heal any wounds, they never did."

"...."

".... But maybe actions will."

"...."

" I'll stop being so harsh on you, you really don't deserve this- I was feeling weird about using your recording system to vent like this, but now that I think about it I have been using you as a venting mechanism since the day we met……. I'm- I'm so goddamn awful."

"...."

"...."

" "How can someone so in love be so cruel?".... Would you be able to answer me if you were conscious?.... I don't think you would, no one has been able to tell me the right answer yet."

".... I hope I can be better- I will be better."

"...."

" I just need to remember how to delete this file before you wake up- I hope I can do that. End recording."

"{... End of recorded conversation n°000.068.xxx …}

………….

It took you about an hour or so to be able to process what you have just listened to. And even then, you weren't able to fully comprehend what happened.

Ms.Bright- No, Ingrid- Ingrid has used your recording system while you were out, she probably tried deleting the file but because she was inexperienced with your kind of technology, she decided to just edit it and try to make it unlistenable.

It was- Barely audible but you still got to understand some of it.

Did she- Did she forget to completely erase it? Did she forget entirely??? You're not sure.

You don't know why but a sudden wave of- Something- Something feels so odd about this-

You don't know how to respond really. You don't feel mad about her ranting to you, you don't even feel bad about her ranting to you while you weren't aware- You feel bad, but not because of her but because of the emotional turmoil she has been hiding from you.

Should you do something? Should you say something?? How do you even- You don't know how respond to this-

You're programmed to comfort her, yet- This file is already old, and she didn't want you to remember this so maybe it won't be the best idea to bring it up, but what can you do??!

Maybe you just need to rethink this through, maybe you should listen to audio again, and try to figure out what's the best way to help her out when she comes back.

You're honestly baffled at the idea that someone like her had so much to confess to- You probably shouldn't have seen her as an unstoppable goddess in the first place, but then again- Even after hearing her open herself, even after listening to her insecurities- Your opinion of her hasn't changed.

She was holding this for so long, no wonder she always seems on edge.

She 's only human. Yet you never really saw her as just that.

She was always so much larger than you, so much stronger than what your fabricated body was, and she always sounded so much smarter and- And she was just always so… Terrifyingly beautiful to you.

Ingrid Bright was always considered a very good looking individual, but no one ever considered her to be much else because of her way of speaking to others (which may sound rude and occasionally condescending, causing others to avoid her as much as they could), but you always thought she was so much more than that-

It's hard to even explain it really, ever since you met you have started to understand the concept of how beauty and fear can mix together, you find her to be so beautiful, yet her demeanor and stature makes you feel afraid of her for some reason- And even worse than that, the fear she may unconsciously bring you makes her seem more beautiful in your eyes.

You shouldn't think of her as scary or frightening, she is your boss, your master and your owner, there is no reason for why you should feel this way towards her- But then again, there is no reason for you to even feel in the first place, you were just built to do so.

You don't think she means harm to anyone, after getting to know her you realize why her behavior can be misinterpreted as mean and scary- Ms.Bright always had a hard time socializing with others, even her family had a hard time understanding her, so maybe that's why she grew to have such a tough exterior.

As someone that was built to make the communication between CEO and employees easier, you've had to learn to understand her to be able to help others understand her as well, and vice versa. It wasn't easy, and you wouldn't say that you know her completely well- But you feel proud of the work you have done so far, you're her loyal companion but more importantly a friend.

Funny how much you learned not only about her, the employees, or even the business of the company- But also about humans in general in these five years of working for her, it makes you feel more whole when you remember how much you have achieved.

You hope you can somehow help her right now, and to help her from here on out. You decide to wait for her and possibly talk about how she feels and how she deals with said feelings. Hopefully all ends well.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Sorry for the loose ending! I was feeling very tired ;-; but if anyone wants it I could totally make a second chapter with a better ending.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

Falling in Love All Over Again

Stiles wakes up in hospital after an accident, but he doesn’t remember anything… or anyone.

 For @evanesdust - Happy Birthday!

  He slowly blinked his eyes open, wincing as he stared up at the bright LED lights and the white insulated panels of the ceiling. He struggled to keep his eyes open, blinking heavily as his vision slowly came into focus.

He felt weak, his body aching as he struggled to move, trying to turn his head and look around the room.

His breathing felt heavy, every breath sending shooting pain through his chest.

He let out a weak groan.

“Hey,” someone said, their voice soft.

He turned his head slightly to look at the woman who stood beside him. She was in her thirties and wore teal scrubs. A small gold necklace hung around her neck, the pendant was woven strands of gold with four gemstones set into the design. Her soft face was worn with creases, a kind smile lifting the corners of her mouth. Her eyes were like dark smoky quartz and her gaze was soft. Her long dark hair had been pulled back in a ponytail, falling in messy waves down her back. A few curls had escaped the elastic tie, falling down around her face. She smelt like roses and something nostalgic.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

He paused for a moment, taking everything in.

“Sore,” he answered, his voice raspy and broken.

“I’ll give you something to help with that,” she said. “Can you tell me your name?”

He paused, searching his mind for anything that seemed familiar, but he couldn’t think of anything. His eyes widened slightly as a sickening feeling of fear settled in his stomach. He shook his head.

“That’s okay,” the nurse reassured him. “Do you know where you are?”

“Hospital,” he guessed.

His answer brought a smile to her face. “Which hospital?”

“I don’t know,” he answered.

“Okay, do you remember what happened to you?”

He shook his head, fighting back the tears that welled in his eyes; he didn’t like feeling this way, he didn’t like feeling lost, confused and helpless.

“Do you know how old you are?” the nurse asked.

“No,” He answered.

“Do you know your birthday?”

He shook his head.

The nurse nodded, bowing her head slightly s she looked down at her chart.

He swallowed hard against the growing lump in his throat, fighting back the wave of nausea as his stomach twisted in knots.

“What happened to me?” he asked.

“You were in an accident,” she explained. “You took quite a blow to the head and it seems to have affected your memory. But it’ll be alright; a lot of the time, memory loss is temporary and your memories come back after some rest or by triggers—people, places, smells, etcetera.”

“How long do you think it’ll take for my memories to come back?” he asked.

A solemn look passed over her face. Her voice was apologetic as she said, “It could be a few hours, or a few days—maybe even a few weeks. There’s no way to know for sure.”

He nodded.

“I’ll check in on you in a little while,” the nurse said as she returned the clipboard to the end of his bed. “Try and get some rest, okay?”

“Wait,” he called after her.

She stopped and turned back to him.

“What’s my name?” he asked, trying to hide the desperation in his voice.

“Stiles,” she answered. “Stiles Stilinski.”

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

 Stiles let out a sigh as he woke to the sound of voices.

“Just take it easy,” he heard the nurse – Melissa, she’d said her name was – said quietly.

Stiles shifted slightly, pushing himself upright slightly and sitting back against his pillows.

Two men entered the room. The first looked to be middle age, his fawn-brown hair thinning slightly and his face worn with wrinkles. His hazel eyes looked at Stiles with a mix of pain, worry and love. He wore a dark windcheater with a logo on the sleeve that had the letters B.H.P.D embroidered into it and a brown shirt with a gold-plated name badge pinned above his breast pocket that read STILINSKI.

The other man had raven-black hair and a strong jaw shadowed by the thin scruff of a beard. His pale aventurine eyes were mesmerising. He wore a faded grey Henley and a worn black leather jacket.

Stiles looked between the two of them, hoping his nervousness didn’t show.

“Hey, kiddo,” the older man said softly. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Stiles lied.

The man with the black hair let out a sigh that ended in a breathless chuckle.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“That’s what you always say when ‘fine’ is the last thing you’re feeling,” the man said.

Stiles dropped his gaze.

These two seemed to know him well—one called him ‘kiddo’ and the other could read him.

“Do you know who we are?” the older man asked.

Stiles looked at him, letting his gaze linger as he took in every detail of the man’s face. There was something familiar about the lines on his face—as if every one of them told a story. There was something familiar about the hints of brown in his hazel eyes. There was something familiar about him, but Stiles couldn’t place it—like a word stuck on the tip of his tongue.

Stiles looked at him apologetically and shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” the man said.

“Your nametag says Stilinski,” Stiles pointed out. “Melissa said my name was Stilinski.”

“Yeah,” the man replied. “I’m John Stilinski… I’m your dad.”

“My dad?” Stiles repeated back.

“Yeah,” he replied. He looked across to the man who stood at the end of the bed. “And this is Derek.”

Stiles met his gaze.

The corner of Derek’s lips turned up in a soft smile.

“Your boyfriend,” John clarified.

Stiles’ eyes widened with shock. He turned to John. “Seriously?”

John nodded.

Stiles looked at Derek then back at John. “You’re kidding, right? He’s way out of my league.”

Derek let out a low chuckle, bowing his head slightly as he tried to hide the rosy blush that coloured his cheeks.

“John,” Melissa called from the doorway, nodding towards the hallway.

“I’ll be right back,” his dad said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before heading towards the door.

“So,” Stiles started slowly when it was only him and Derek. “How long have we been dating?”

“Six years,” Derek answered. “Nearly seven.”

Stiles was stunned. He bowed his head, his mind reeling as he tried to make sense of everything—tried to grasp at threads of thoughts or hidden memories.

“It’s okay,” Derek said softly. “You don’t have to remember everything right away. It must be weird looking at a stranger and being told you’ve been together six years.”

“It’s a little unnerving,” Stiles admitted.

“Don’t worry; I’m not going to try and kiss you or do anything that’ll make you uncomfortable,” Derek reassured him. “I’ll give you as much space as you want, but I’ll be here if you need me.”

Stiles let out a soft sigh. “Thank you.”

Stiles looked down at the foot of his bed.

“Can you pass me my chart?” Stiles asked.

Derek’s brow furrowed slightly with confusion, but he stepped down to the end of the bed and passed the clipboard to Stiles nonetheless.

Stiles read it.

“Wait,” he said, his brow knitted together as looked down at the page. “That’s not my name.”

Derek stepped over to Stiles side, looking over his shoulder at the clipboard.

“Yeah, it is,” Derek said. “It’s your given name, but you go by Stiles.”

“I don’t even know how to say that,” Stiles said.

“Mieczyslaw.”

“Mieczyslaw,” Stiles repeated. He skimmed down the page as he read aloud, “Broken ribs, fractured left wrist, ligaments in shoulders strained and slightly torn, blunt force trauma to head, bruises and lacerations, memory loss—possible retrograde amnesia.”

He set the clipboard down in his lap, trying to hide the broken look on his face, but apparently Derek knew him better that Stiles thought.

“It’s going to be okay,” he reassured him. “Whatever happens, we’ll get through it.”

Stiles looked up at him, his dark eyes full of gratitude.

Derek offered him a reassuring smile.

Stiles smiled in return.

“What’s your favourite colour?” Stiles asked.

“Orange,” Derek answered. “Like a sunset.”

Stiles thought for a moment. “What’s my favourite colour?”

“Blue,” Derek replied.

Stiles nodded, thinking it over.

“Tell me about yourself,” Stiles said, a hint of pleading in his voice.

“Um… My name’s Derek Hale. I have two sisters—one older, one younger. I was born and raised here in Beacon Hills – like you. I was orphaned when I was fifteen and older sister took us to New York, but we returned a few years later.” Derek thought for a moment. “I like dogs—and we planned to get one as soon as our house is ready.”

“We live together?”

“Yeah, we’ve lived together for three years now,” Derek answered. “We’re building a new house on my family’s land.”

“Wow,” Stiles said quietly, taken aback by how wonderful his life seemed.

“Sorry to interrupt,” John said, stepping back into the room. “Melissa said that maybe some photos will help.”

John set a plastic back down on the table at the end of Stiles’ bed. It had a bright red band across it with bold white letters that spelt out EVIDENCE. John opened it and pulled out the phone inside, passing it to Stiles.

Stiles looked down at the screen as it lit up. The phone was locked by a password.

Stiles swallowed hard against the lump in his throat as he tried to think.

“1107,” Derek said softly.

Stiles looked at him, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“It’s my birthday,” Derek explained.

Stiles typed in the password and the phone opened.

“You’re a romantic,” Derek teased.

Stiles let out a breathless chuckle. He opened the photos on his phone, starting at the most recent – a screenshot of a dog on a rescue site; probably the one they were going to adopt once their house is finished – and scrolling back through the photos.

There were pictures of him and Derek, him and his dad, him and a young man with short brown hair and a khaki police uniform—Jordan, his dad told him. There were several photos of him and Derek hanging out with a group of people that looked to be their age: a girl with copper-coloured hair and soft green eyes, a boy with a mop of brown hair and a crooked smile, a girl with long blonde hair, a boy with dark skin and a kind smile, and another boy with thick blond curls. Derek told him each of their names.

“You don’t remember anything about Scott?” his dad asked.

Stiles looked down at the picture again and shook his head. “Should I?”

“You’ve been best friends since you were four years old,” his dad explained. “Inseparable. Partners in crime. I thought maybe seeing his face would spark a few memories.”

Stiles set the phone down. His dark eyes glistened as tears began to well.

“I’m never going to remember, am I?” he said quietly, his voice strained and breaking. “I don’t remember my best friend, my boyfriend, or my own dad. I didn’t even know my own name until Melissa told me.”

“Hey,” Derek said softly, reaching out to take his hand. “It’s going to be okay. Maybe your memories will come back in a day or two.”

“Or maybe they’ll never come back,” Stiles countered.

“Then you get a second chance at life; not many people get that,” Derek said, trying to stay positive.

“I don’t want a second chance,” Stiles said, his voice quiet. “The life I had sounds pretty good.” He glanced at Derek, feeling shy as he added, “You sound great.” He blinked back his tears, his voice broken as he said, “I want that life back.”

“I know it must be frustrating, but we’ll give it a few days and see if there’s any change, okay?” Derek said, craning his neck to look Stiles in the eye, lovingly and reassuringly.

Stiles met his gaze, feeling the waves of anger and anxiety wash away. The weight in his chest lightened as he let out a calming sigh and nodded. He picked his phone up again and began to scroll through the photos.

There were photos of friends that Derek named for him, a lacrosse team, and a photo of four of them: Stiles, Scott, Lydia, and a young girl with long dark hair.

“That’s—”

“Allison,” Stiles said quietly, interrupting Derek.

Derek looked at him with a mix of confusion and hopeful excitement.

“Allison,” Stiles turned the name over, pulling on the tangled thread of memories.

He remembered her smile, her laugh. He remembered the way she held a bow and arrow with strength and unwavering composure. He remembered the sound of her hand hitting the ground—he hadn’t seen it, but he’d felt it. He remembered slowly returning to consciousness as he and Lydia stumbled out of the darkness and into the cool night air. He remembered the moment his heart broke when he saw her lifeless body cradled in Scott’s arm, her unmoving hand fallen aside.

There was a glimmer of a memory in the corner of his mind. He reached for it; the image of Allison’s silver necklace – a family heirloom in the shape of a crest with a rampant lion in the corner.

It was like a row of dominoes; one crashed into the other and the floodgates burst open. Waves of memories crashed over him.

“Stiles?”

Derek’s voice drew him back to reality.

Stiles looked up at him.

“Gerard,” he said.

“What?” Derek asked.

“Gerard Argent,” Stiles replied. “He’s the one who did this to me.”

“Gerard kidnapped you years ago, Stiles,” his dad said

“No, I remember. He drove me off the road and when I woke up again, I was in some kind of basement. My hands were in chains and I was hanging from the ceiling,” Stiles explained.

“Are you sure you’re remembering what happened a few days ago?” Derek asked.

“Titus,” Stiles said abruptly. “The dog we adopt, he’s a black Great Dane and we were going to call him Titus. I wanted that name because it’s the name of Damian Wayne’s dog from Batman comics and you agreed because it’s a reference to Shakespeare. You also wanted to adopt the German Sheppard at the shelter but we had to see how he goes with other dogs first. We were going to call him Achilles. But I also saw the way you looked at the Australian Sheppard, the old boxer, and the Bernese. And if we’re both being honest, we know we’re not leaving with only one or two of them.”

Derek just stared at him, stunned.

Stiles turned to his dad. “Whenever you order take out at the station you always order a beef burger with onion, lettuce, tomato, cheese, and ketchup, but Parrish always orders you a salad as well because you’re meant to be looking after your heart health after you were injured eight years ago. Your full name is Noah John Stilinski, but you’ve always gone by John because Noah was your father’s name. My given name is Mieczyslaw – after my maternal grandfather – but I could never pronounce it right so Mum would always jokingly call me ‘Mischief’—although the nickname got more fitting as I got older. And after you and Mum had a falling out with her family, you hated calling me by that name, so you came up with ‘Stiles’ and you’ve called me that ever since.”

He turned back to Derek. “Every morning, you make me a cup of coffee. I never ask for it, you just do it because you love me, and I love you. Your favourite book is The Little Prince because your dad used to read it to you every night when you were little—I got you a hard-cover version of it for your birthday last year.”

He looked between the two of them.

“I remember,” he insisted. “I can even tell you where I hid the ring I was going to propose to Derek with.”

“You were going to propose to me?” Derek asked.

“The night I went missing,” Stiles admitted.

Derek let out a quiet laugh.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“I was going to propose to you that night too,” Derek confessed.

Stiles couldn’t help but laugh.

John stepped out of the room, but from the hallway Stiles could hear his dad call in a police search for Gerard Argent.

“So… Out of curiosity, if I had proposed to you, would you have said yes?” Derek asked hesitantly.

“Without hesitation,” Stiles said, smiling at Derek.

Derek let out a sigh of relief.

“I am still going to propose to you,” Stiles told him. “Just in a more romantic setting than this.”

Derek leant forward and pressed a soft kiss to Stiles’ bruised cheek.

“About the dogs,” Stiles started slowly as Derek sat back in his chair.

“You only want one?” Derek asked, heartbroken.

“Oh no,” Stiles replied. “I want all of them. Including the really old Great Pyrenees and the wrinkly little bulldog puppy.”

A bright smile lit up Derek’s face. “Deal.”

[wormstacheangel]

Stay Unhappy. Stay with Me.

15x18 Coda Fic aka I just can’t accept what happened so I keep changing it lol (hurt comfort idk but happy ending)

“You changed me, Dean.” 

Dean watched, listened, while the pounding at the door grew desperate. His ears ringing as the echoing of his heart slamming into his chest was making itself known because of Cas…

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Tear filled eyes, shining so bright and free, stared back at him. A pulling smile on his lips, heartbreaking, as he tried hard to hold back whatever was left. “Because it is.”

Cas opened his mouth to say something else but Dean took a step forward and pressed his palm against Cas’s mouth. Stopping whatever it was he was going to say because he knew, he knew, exactly what he was about to blurt out and this was not the way they were going to do this. Not here. Not now. 

“Dean!” He heard Cas mumble under his hand but Dean only pressed it harder against his mouth as he glared down at him, the tears really made it hard for him to look angry or even annoyed but he was. 

“Shut it.” 

They both turned towards the bubbling noise behind them just as Billie broke through the door. Dean wrapped his free arm around Cas’s waist to press him close to his chest, shielding him from both threats because this is not how their story is going to end. This is not how these pushed back emotions were finally going to be acknowledged. 

Cas looked at him with wide eyes that still glistered under the one light as Dean shushed him again, keeping his hand over Cas’s mouth to keep him from saying anything else. To keep him from being...happy. 

Cas only nodded once as he stood still in the embrace, keeping his eyes on Dean the whole time as the goo reached to take Billie. Covering her from head to toe so quickly she didn’t even have time to scream, Dean was sure she wouldn’t out of pride. Then just as quick as they came the threats were gone. The only noise that echoed the room was the clank of the scythe hitting the floor. 

Dean finally turned to look back at Cas, to meet his ocean eyes that were burning holes into the side of his face. 

“You dumb son of a bitch,” Dean tries to sound annoyed but his voice is too shaky. “You don’t get to do that shit anymore.”

“Dean.” Cas mumbles from under his palm and Dean rolled his eyes before he pulled his hand back only to rest it on the side of Cas’s face instead. Cradling him as he tightens his grip, afraid that the wrong words can make him happy. Make him disappear. “I’m sorry. I saw no other way to save you.”

“Save me?” Dean almost laughed at the idea. Cas being gone only ever made Dean feel lost and broken. Empty and dead. “You leaving wasn’t going to save me, dumbass.” 

He didn’t want to add how it would have probably been the thing that really sent him over the edge. Closer to pulling the trigger and just ending himself his way. Billie being gone now meant he may not be thrown to the Empty like she promised and now he was afraid he would be resurrected if he did. Cas is here though, he is in his arms and alive, so there was no need to think of a backup plan just yet.

“I need you here, Cas, with me.” Dean leans in to drop his forehead down on Cas’s shoulder. Feeling his neck ache at the movement as he realized how tensed his whole body was. Locked up and cold as if he’s been unmoving for hours instead of the slow-moving ten minutes that actually passed. “So stop fucking leaving me. Please.”

Dean could hear his voice, broken and desperate, as he pleaded with him. Wanting to scream out what he means and wants but he’s unsure of how to do so. Afraid the wrong words can bring the Empty back to get him, them. So he says words that were spoken before. Words Cas knew, that were familiar to them both. Safe. 

“I want you to be happy, Cas. That’s all I fucking want but...not like this” Dean pulled back to meet his wide eyes, still unblinking as tears continued to flow. “Just, stay unhappy for a little bit longer.” Dean could see Cas crack a smile at his words, blinking finally to look back at Dean with warm eyes. The love Dean always tried to ignore was now front and center. “Can you do that for me?”

“Of course, Dean.”

With shaky hands, Cas reached to take Dean’s face in between his hands. His thumb ghosting over his cheeks to wipe away heavy tears while he looked back at him, smiling as he let out a shaky sigh. His eyes roaming over his face as if trying to carve it into memory. 

“I miss you.” Cas says as he watches his thumb brush over the freckles on his skin. “I miss you so much even though I have you so close.”

“Me too.” Dean swallowed the same words Cas needed to push down as they stayed like that for a few more minutes. Looking at each other as if it was the first time, or their last, before Dean finally caved and let his forehead drop to Cas’s own. His eyes shut close to feel Cas’s hands grip at the front of his jacket. Keeping him close as fresh new tears fell because now that the waterworks were open they were having trouble closing them. 

So close to having something they both knew they could finally have but it was still so far away. Only a thin thread holding them back now and Dean will figure out a way to finally break that thread so he can have him. Have Cas the way he has been wanting him for so long. 

“We’ll figure it out.”

“I know.”

“We’ll be happy.”

“I know, Dean.”

Sam and Jack came home to find Dean swinging Death’s Scythe around the map table, Cas was sitting on one of the chairs far away enough to not accidentally be killed. They were all thinking out loud as to what to do next, being the only things left in the whole universe, or at least the earth as social media has finally stopped updating. 

“Okay, let’s get to work!” Sam clapped his hands as he stood up, nearly missing being beheaded by Dean. So he took the scythe away and handed it over to Cas, who took it giving him the same annoyed expression Sam was giving him. 

The big battle started off as dumb and reckless as any other Winchester fight. Chuck was snapping his fingers and slowly things disappeared around them. Nature disappeared right before their eyes, every snap of the finger plummeted them into darkness. Into nothing. 

Dean watched as Sam was snapped out of the dark abyss while Dean struggled to breathe, Chuck decided oxygen needed to go next. Cas was on the floor burned out by Chuck’s feet while Jack was on his knees bleeding as he stared up at him. 

“Amara?” Dean heard Jack say as he lazily looked up at Chuck, everything in him was still trying to fight but they still lost. Dean tried crawling towards Jack, protecting the last person in his family that was left but he couldn’t even feel his body anymore. “It’s okay. It was nice knowing you for the short while I did.”

Dean tried calling out to him but darkness was blurring his vision.

“Thank you for wanting to get to know me. I would have loved to get to know you too. I think...I think we would’ve been a good family.”

Dean heard before the darkness finally took him with one last gasping breath.

Then Dean woke up with a bright light in his face. He laid still on the beach, his legs soaking wet but he couldn’t find it in himself to move or even open his eyes. Afraid of what he’ll see or not see when he opened them. His fingers gripped at the sand, feeling the grains slip through his fingers, as he tried to remember what just happened. Wanting to focus his mind before anything else but he never did get a chance to get past the panic, the pain of watching his family die before him.

“Dean? Dean, wake up.” He heard the familiar voice of someone he thought was lost a while ago. He opened his eyes, blinking a few times until Amara’s face was clear. “Hey, there.”

“Amara?” Dean reached for her, to poke her cheek to see if it was really her, but she slapped his hand away with a little laugh. “Ow!”

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay at least.” She stood up and pulled on Dean’s arm to help stand him up. 

“But Chuck...ate you? How are you - wait how the hell am I here?” Dean patted himself over just to make sure he was actually him and he was actually alive. Taking a deep breath of air that seconds ago he was trying to suck in. “My family?”

Amara smiled and pointed further down the beach where he saw Jack crouched down, alive, with Cas’s head in his lap. 

Dean opened his mouth but before he could get the words out Amara spoke, “Sam woke up first and I sent him to where his girlfriend is. He said he’ll see you at home.”

“But where’s Chuck?”

“In here.” She points at herself. “I got him. Balance finally restored. I just wanted to say goodbye to you before I left.”

Amara was sacrificing herself for Jack, for him to keep his family. Trading Cas’s spot for her and Chuck with the Empty so Jack could have his Dad. For Dean to have him. 

“Go. He’s gonna wake up soon.” She nudges him a sad smile playing on her lips. 

Dean didn’t have to be told twice as he ran across the beach to kneel on the other side of his angel. Jack smiled up at him before he got up and walked over to Amara, taking her hand as they spent a few minutes together before she had to leave. 

Dean watched them walk across the water for a few seconds before giving Cas his full attention once again. Calling out for him to wake up.

“Cas, sweetheart, wake up. We did it. We won.” Dean lifted Cas head to rest on his lap now, leaning down to press his forehead on top of Cas’s own. “We’re alive, Cas.”

“We are?” He heard Cas say a playful tone to his voice before Dean felt his hand reach up scrunch up his jacket. “Mmmm, if we’re not then this must be heaven.”

“Don’t be so cliché or I’ll kiss you.”

Cas raised his eyebrow at that. “Is that...are you threatening me with a kiss?”

Dean watched as Cas' face turned just slightly pink before he cleared his throat and pushed himself away from Dean. Sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Dean, this is hard enough already without your teasing. I barely survived this far so I’ll rather not have the Empty come get me before we figure out a way to break-”

Dean pulled Cas back as he tried to get up. Taking his arm and moving close enough that their faces were inches apart, Cas’s breathing hitched before it stopped. Staring down at Dean’s lips just as he stared back at the angel’s perfect lips. Wanting them for so long and having them closer than he ever had them before but there was something he was supposed to do beforehand. 

“I love you, Cas.”

Cas gasped as tears welled back in his eyes, blinking them away as his eyes met his once again. Cas quickly moved just enough to cling to him but kept his eyes on his face, fear dancing around his expression.

“No. No, Dean, don’t say that. I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to go. Please, don’t-”

Dean reached to cradle his face between his hands, kissing the tip of Cas’s nose. “Cas, sweetheart, nobody in this whole damn universe will ever take you from me. You’re mine and you’re here to stay.”

“I am?” Cas leaned into his palm, making Dean think of a cat. “Are you sure?”

“I love you, Cas.” Dean repeats, watching Cas eyes widen again as he blinks up at him. Still a little scared. “I love you so much.”

“I-I love you.” Cas hesitantly says before pressing a kiss on Dean’s palm. A sigh of relief escaping him as he let his eyes drift closed. A warm smile spread across his face making him brighten up. “I love you, Dean.”

They rested foreheads, kneeling on the sand as they held each other. Letting the warmth of their words linger around them and envelope them with newfound hope. 

[itsmyara]

Playing Cards (SFW Fanfic)

Pairing: Chrollo/Machi (yep!)

Word Count: 1.7 k

Warning: Hisoka acting psycho.

Note: I've recently talked about Kuromachi with @takkarulz and it reminded me of this VERY old fic. It was supposed to be the first chapter of a story about Hisoka's first mission with the Troupe but I don't think I'm gonna continue it. Oh, and it was originally written in Portuguese, so maybe something got lost in translation. I hope not but sorry if it did!

The prey was aware of the bloodlust that emanated from his pores. Hisoka was bored when he felt that random aura and left in pursuit. Granted, it wasn’t a strong aura, but the relative abstinence made him lower his criteria. Any less-than-a-minute fight would offer some relief. The prey was already running ahead, looking back at him now and then in despair. He was sweating, breathing heavily, tripping over his own feet. It was a shame. Even so, the predator felt that in that aura there was an impulse to try to fight back, a courage that could spring from adrenaline and give him some precious extra time to live.

He focused entirely on instilling fear in him, as a favor to awaken that trace of hidden strength, and as a favor for his own sadism.

Fear and death roamed the desolate streets at night, accompanied only by concrete walls, garbage cans overturned by mangy dogs, and abandoned souls, drunken and empty, who wouldn’t dare to approach the source of that terrifying bloodlust.

Hisoka's expression was already inhuman.

The victim turned a corner, looked around, started to run faster. Perhaps he was close to home and struggled to reach it, with that false feeling that at home he would be safe. Poor fool. The predator licked his lips, he wouldn’t allow the prey to gain distance from him. In fact, he didn’t intend to let him free for too long.

Thirsty for action, Hisoka dashed and jumped to reach him faster but when he was in mid-air, something stopped his body, suspending it far from the ground, and a third presence was revealed. A woman fell gracefully in front of him and as soon as her feet touched the ground, her hands pulled a thread, making him realize that the trap had tightened around his body.

The pink-haired woman boldly stepped between him and his victim, and when she looked up and glared at him, her blue eyes were unfazed by his bloodlust. The victim stopped for a moment to try to understand what had happened, but he wasn't stupid enough to stay.

Soon it was only he and her.

Hisoka smiled and sought a comfortable position within her trap. It was worth exchanging the weak prey for that woman who either mastered zetsu very well or knew how to take advantage of his distraction to catch him. Either way, she was incomparably stronger.

“Well, well... and who are you?” His voice sounded mischievous as his eyes sparkled, studying her carefully.

She kept him in her threads without difficulty, as they crossed the deserted street trapped to the side of two buildings, forming a web that closed around him in the center. A spider web. She was skilled and agile to prepare that engineering in such a short time. Besides this, she also had that delightful demeanor. So under control. So cold. So full of an unshakable self-confidence. It wasn’t someone to be thrown away. Maybe he would keep her to play with, little by little, instead of killing her at once.

“I have a message from the boss,” when she said those words, Hisoka understood and closed his eyes. He definitely would have to save her for later. “Midnight at the sanctuary of St. Levi. If you’re too busy hunting mice, you will suffer the consequences.”

A crooked smile grew on the magician's face. Suffering the consequences was what he wanted the most, but not in the way they used to apply them.

“Will the boss be there?” He asked, but his question was ignored.

“I think you can get out of there alone.”

It was the last thing she said before disappearing into the night.

There was a possibility that Chrollo would attend the meeting, but there was also the possibility that it would end up being just another spiders’ meeting that would kill him with boredom at once. He had recently joined the Phantom Troupe for a single purpose, and so far he had successfully avoided childish robberies and meaningless missions, no matter who showed up to try to intimidate him.

An Ace of Hearts took shape between his fingers and he used it to slash the tangled threads that held him. To his surprise, not all of them broke on the first blow, demanding one or two more hits for him to break free completely.

He thought that maybe this time it would be worth it to show up at the meeting if she were there.

***

Their current hideout was a mansion away from the city and with a reputation for being haunted. The abandonment of the building made it cold and fragile, but there was a certain beauty in all those aged memories left by the corners, and in the way nature was taking over the place little by little. In a few years, the creeping plants will probably take it over completely.

Machi entered through the backdoor absolutely quietly, just in case. Soon she realized that there was someone in the basement and she walked down the stairs, equally silent, to find Chrollo sitting on an old wooden chest. By candlelight, he analyzed something on a table in front of him.

“Fascinating... whoever lived here, was someone impressive. It is not by chance that this house has a reputation for being haunted,” he whispered when she approached but kept his gray eyes fixed on the objects spread on the table.

In that room, Machi noticed opaque crystals, rusty metal objects that were supposed to serve very specific uses, animal skulls with horns, and some books so old and yellow that she thought they would turn to dust if she looked at them for too long. She stood next to the boss and realized that what captured his attention were cards, similar to a playing deck, but more numerous and richly illustrated even though -- like everything in that basement -- they were in dull colors.

“Did these objects serve any ritualistic purpose? They must be flooded with nen,” the energy of the place was somewhat obscure, and she thought that maybe this is why he felt comfortable there.

“I haven’t found any trace of nen in this basement,” he said, causing a brief expression of surprise in her. Fascinating, really.

Chrollo finally looked at her, his expression calm and pleasant. His eyes were more mysterious and dark than the energy of the place. By far more fascinating. Eyes that caused her the same feeling, again and again, after so many years.

Perhaps because she was so close that he could feel that commotion inside of her, or perhaps because he was feeling comfortable in that environment, he placed one hand on her waist, while the other held some cards.

“Sit here with me, as we used to do when I read to you,” he said, invoking the past and leading her gently so that she sat on his right thigh.

The memory stirred the feelings inside her even more. She was so young when she found him, a beautiful, intelligent and kind boy, as young as she was, who talked to her, played with her, and cared for her. Chrollo was always different from everyone else. He had ended up awakening in her still innocent heart that dream that he was a prince charming and that they would marry someday, even marriage being such an abstract concept in Meteor City. It turned out that the commitment she had made to him was far greater than that of a marriage.

Enjoying the moment, she rested her arm around his shoulders and studied the cards ahead more closely now.

“Are these tarot cards?” She asked, vaguely recognizing a couple of drawings.

“Yes, it’s the most valuable thing I’ve found here. The style is so unique, each card is a work of art by itself.”

Her eyes met an Arcana and she leaned over to pick it up, almost instinctively. The Fool, with his extravagant clothes and gestures, looking at the horizon from the edge of the abyss, projecting himself to it with nothing to hold him back -- from the infinite fall or from the flight to the horizon. Her intuition led her to believe it would be the first option.

“How was it with him?” Chrollo asked, noticing the card she was looking at so attentively.

“He's strong, I ended up having to set a trap with more aura than I've expected,” she replied almost automatically, only managing to return the card at the end of the sentence.

“He wouldn't have listened to you any other way.”

"No," she confirmed, and then they looked at each other. “The decision is yours, danchou, but I wouldn’t trust him.”

“This is why you didn't bring him here. You’ve decided to wait until tomorrow.”

Chrollo hadn’t told her to take Hisoka to him, he had left the option in the hands of her interpretation. Since the magician was one of them, he belonged -- in theory -- to that place with them, and it would have been natural for her to invite him. But it wasn’t.

Machi knew that sometimes Chrollo let her interpret his orders because he trusted her judgment. And in addition to not having taken him to the boss, she also left promptly so as not to be followed.

“You have been more receptive to new members before,” he said softly.

And the fact that he pulled her to him gently to place a kiss on her temple softened his speech even more.

“Sorry, he seemed to have a special interest in you,” she spoke in a slightly serious tone. Intuition. Concern.

Something that made him snicker as his free hand touched her hair.

“Don’t worry too much, Machi.”

That was the end of the subject brought up by the card. Soon he would touch her thigh and his hand would roam her body. Soon he would show her how comfortable he felt, to the point of allowing himself to enjoy the tenderness that Machi dedicated to him right from her lips, her skin, and her embrace.

[vanilladyfics]

Fighting Fate - Ch 1

Read Chapter Two

Ship: Sir Nighteye x GN!Reader

Genre: Angst with a happy ending, Mutual Pining, Office Romance

Warnings: Suicide Themes, Slight Sexuality, Yandere if you squint

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note:  I needed to get this out of my head so I can focus on other projects.  This story takes place after Eri’s rescue where nothing bad happened.

Summary: Nighteye’s quirk predicts his assistant will die before the night’s end, but he’s not about to accept fate this time around.

Do not repost.

-----

Mirai Sasaki was a hero first, man second.  His greatest strength as a hero came not from his precognition, but his control.  A control that, lately, has been slipping.  As a general rule, Sasaki only used his quirk for his hero work.  He only had one shot at it a day, so to waste it on something personal would not only be unprofessional, but could put himself and the people he had sworn to protect at risk should an emergency arise.  And yet, he wanted to use it on you.

Sasaki had no problem with you when you first started as his assistant.  Sure, there were times you needed to be reminded to smile, and his jokes didn't always land with you (which was on you-- his delivery was flawless), but everyone had those days.  Midnight was partially to blame.  Her recent jokes about his tickle torture machine being used for foreplay had been fresh in his mind the first time you needed it to be reminded to smile.  Sasaki had dismissed her comments easily enough.  There was nothing inherently sexual about tickling someone into submission with their hands bound above their head, helpless and vulnerable.  Their hysterical laughter turning into gasps and pants as they struggled for air.  Thighs clamped tightly together as they desperately tried to avoid wetting themselves, begging for release.

Then he put you in those cuffs, saw you writhe against the machine, and he understood.  Seeing you thrash about, pulling against your restraints, your shirt coming untucked from your waistband as you struggled, Sasaki felt... something.  He turned the machine off in a panic the moment he diagnosed what he was feeling.  Kayama was right, and he was a fool.

He hadn't put anyone in the machine since.  He considered taking it down and retiring it all together, but it served as an effective warning that his office would be full of smiles.  Still, he couldn't look at it the same way-- couldn't look at you the same way. He barely looked at you at all, actually.  Each time he did, his mind went to unprofessional places.  He made a point not to treat you any differently from his other employees.  He bought flowers.  Not for you.  For the office. It just happened that the logical place for them was on the front desk-- your desk.  The treats in the break room you liked weren't for you, but for the team.

Technically, Sasaki never instated a rule against dating subordinates.  He managed all of his employees directly, and never thought about any of them romantically, so the thought never occurred to him to implement one.  Asking out his assistant might be legal, but he morally couldn't put you in a position where you might fear for your livelihood.  The right thing to do would have been to get you a job somewhere else, wait until you were settled, and then make a move... but then you'd be so far away.

Sasaki couldn't stay in this limbo between courting and ignoring you forever.  He had a few options.  He could ignore the feelings, keeping you at arms length just to keep in his life.  He could throw all sense of propriety aside and ask you directly, risk losing you completely and forcing him to find a new assistant.  So he decided. If four-o-clock hit and he hadn't used his quirk for the day, he'd use it on you.  If he saw your future together, it was fate, morality and propriety be damned.  If you ended up with someone else, he would be a man step aside.

--

You winced at the pounding in your head, forcing yourself to smile despite the pain.  You couldn't let anyone see you frown in Sir Nighteye's Hero Agency.  The last time you did, you were stuck in that HR nightmare of a contraption until you nearly wet yourself in front of Sir Nighteye himself.  You flushed at the memory.  You needed to get out, and this new influx of emails only confirmed it: Job applications, for your position.  He had caught you looking down once and had been acting strangely ever since.  Now you know it's because he had been sneaking around trying to replace you. You double checked Mr. Sasaki's schedule before confirming the interview times for this first batch of applicants.  You should have seen it coming, but it still hurt to have to help pick out your own replacement.  You saw their resumes.  Many of them had a better education and more experience than you.  They'd be a much better fit at the agency.  They probably wouldn't have to pretend to be happy.

You checked the time.  Four-o-clock.  One more hour and you'd be free to go home and cry yourself to sleep.  You paused.  No.  You still had to pick up groceries, reach out to your doctor about these headaches and starting your medication again, and figure out how to respectfully decline this last arranged marriage meeting.  Somehow, you doubted “Sorry, I but I still have a thing for my boss even though he wants to fire me” was going to cut it.  You added 'apply for jobs' to your mental to-do list.

Mr. Sasaki walked in.  You plastered your best smile on your face to greet him.  “Good evening, sir!”  You would play ignorant.  If he wanted to be sneaky, so could you.

“Good evening, [Y/N].  How are you?”

“I'm doing well... Sir?”  He was looking you in the eye for the first time since the tickle incident.  It felt strange somehow. Serious.

He cleared his throat, pulling a business card from the inner pocket of his blazer.  “Make sure to update Edgeshot's contact information before you leave.”

Your fingers brushed against his as you accepted the card.  “Right away, sir.”

He looked in your eyes, and your future played out in his mind like a strip of film: The stranger harassing you on the train ride home, stepping over the candidacy pictures of potential suitors someone slipped under your door, answering a phone call and arguing until you hung up and threw the phone against the wall.  The tears. The bathtub.  And then...

Nothing.

“My office.  Now.”

Icy dread washed over you as he closed the door behind you.  Just how much had he seen?  You stood at attention under his unnerving gaze.  The man was as handsome as he was intimidating.

“Tell me what's going on.”

You floundered for an answer. “Just... work.”  His grip on your arm tightened.  You winced.  He had to know you were lying-- he clearly saw something in your future he didn't like.  You had to give him something.  “I went ahead and scheduled the interviews for the assistant position next week.  Thank you for my time here.  I'm sorry we weren't a better fit.”

Oh.

He let go of your arm.  He only put out that help wanted ad to be prepared in case you left the agency.  He should have considered your reaction when you found out.  Stupid.  So incredibly stupid.  He was usually so thorough.  Sasaki sat at his desk.  He needed to think, and he couldn't do that standing right next to you.  When he saw your timeline cut short, he never thought he might have contributed to it.  He could change the future.  Fix it.  He'd seen it done before.

“I'm not firing you.”

“It's okay.  I didn't take it personally,” you lied, reminding yourself to smile.  Always smile.

You clearly didn't believe him, but he couldn't bring himself to tell you why he was looking for a new assistant.  Now wasn't the time for a love confession.  How could today have gone so wrong? He needed a plan.

“What are your plans for this evening?”

Was he asking you to stay late?  You shrugged.  “Running errands.  Groceries.  Dinner.”  File for unemployment.  “Normal stuff.”

He nodded, threading his fingers together.  It didn't sound like you were planning on ending things tonight, but he wasn't an expert.  His hero work centered on fighting external threats, like villains or natural disasters, not civilians who were a danger to themselves.  He should let an expert take over, but could he really entrust you to a stranger?  Could he convince you to talk to a crisis center when you couldn't admit anything was wrong?  Would the shame push you over that edge?  And why were you still smiling?

He needed to buy time, and for that, you wouldn't be leaving his sight.  He looked into your future again, but it remained unchanged.  The last push seemed to be that phone call, but he couldn't make out who it was from.  It didn't matter. “Give me your phone.”

His tone brokered no argument, and you handed it over without hesitation.  His thumb brushed over the screen.  It was cracked.  Surely he was paying you enough to have it repaired or replaced outright.  Sasaki frowned, considering.  No phone meant no phone call.  No phone call meant no tears.

He snapped it in half.

“What the hell!?”  You rushed to take the broken pieces from him, but he held them tighter.

“I'll buy you a new one.”

“That's not the point!  It wasn't yours!”

“I need you to work overtime tonight. You are not to leave this building, is that understood?”

Fate could be rewritten.  Sasaki would ensure you made it through tonight, even if you ended up hating him for it.