#cellphones change the color and make me want to die

[abba-422]

So many waifus! Someone help me

[writingtoforgetreality]

Stockholm Syndrome (Helmut Zemo x Reader)

[Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: During the fight with the Dora Milaje in his safe-house, Zemo made an exit. But not alone. For inexplicable reasons, he dragged you along. Probably because he wanted to mess with Sam & Bucky. Would the Baron kill you? Or worse?

Words: 4,083

Warnings: language, angst, fluff (?), kidnapping, spoilers for TFATWS, (Let’s put the angsty shit in this part & the fun stuff in the second one.), (Y/E/C) = your eye color, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

The fight in front of you held your entire attention. Eyes focused on moving bodies, kicking, punching their way through. While you were not inexperienced when it came to battling, you preferred holding back. Bruises were not necessarily your favorite. Not these kind of bruises at least. All your ears could make out was the grunting radiating from the combat. Hence why the movements behind you stayed inconspicuous. Only when a cloth pressed against your nose & you had no choice but to breathe in, did you notice the jeopardy of the situation. Darkness enveloped you. The last thing you perceived was a dark silhouette picking you up. As much as you wanted to fight back, to defend yourself, it was impossible. All strength had dissipated. Whatever was happening, you hoped you would wake up again. This could not be how you died. You would not die.

Pain woke you up. But you were not hurt. At least that was what you remembered. Then it came to you. Someone had kidnapped you. If your eyes did not open soon, you would regret it later. Heavy eyelids slowly opened. Though it took many attempts to keep them that way. You scanned the room. There were no windows, no light which would have made that task easier. It took a few minutes to adjust to the obscureness. And once you did, you found yourself as perplexed as before. No restraints were obstructing your motions. Technically, you could up & leave. But it was never that simple, was it? The door was opposite of you. Your muscles were still sore. The act of standing up & waltzing over seemed like too much effort for you. The bleakness of the wall your back rested against was a more welcomed sensation. Your knees scooted closer to your chest. Arms raking around them, you hugged yourself. Hoping it would bring you a bit of comfort. Your brain failed to work properly. Because you were stumped. Who could have possibly seized you? Walker was busy getting his ass kicked. Lemar imitated his partner, pretty much. Sam ordered Bucky to help out & went into the battle right after. And Zemo was… Yeah, where the hell was Zemo during all of that? If you recalled correctly, he held a drink in his hand. Like you, he kept away from the fight. And then? You were aware that the Baron was not a saint. Neither were you. But you did not believe he would pull something like that. Then again, it was Zemo. Nobody knew his next step. Nobody but himself. Your foot tapped a rhythm on the cold, grey pavement. Usually, when your anxiety acted up, you distracted yourself. Fiddling with your hands or bouncing your legs. Something you could focus on that was not life threatening to your mind. The unknown beat managed to calm you down the slightest. Whoever held you hostage would be back soon. Your gut feeling told you so much.

Maybe you dosed off again. Because your body flinched when a creak reached your ears. Quickly, you looked around for possible threats. The only thing that had changed was the door sitting ajar. Only a diminutive gap. It was noticeable due to the light illuminating the room. There was no piece of furniture which meant that nobody lived here. It resembled a cell. But even cells had a bed, a chair. Something. The room turned dim again but only for a second. A shadow, you figured. Your captivator was here. So close, in fact, goosebumps erupted. A chill ran down your spine. This single interaction could modify your imprisonment. You still needed time to consider a successful escape plan. Which meant that you needed to observe the person keeping you here. Movies displayed such situations more than once. It was manageable. If they decided to show themselves & reveal their identity. Your eyes fell to the boots first. Black or a dark brown that was not detectable due to the lack of brightness. Next were the pants. Black again. The end of a coat came into view. Dark grey, almost anthracite. Your thoughts instantly went to one person. You could be mistaken. He was not the only one with a coat like that. Your gaze flickered up to his hands. The leather gloves were proof enough. Your (Y/E/C) eyes locked onto his brown ones. There was no shock written over your features. After all, deep down, you awaited this sight to be met with. As much as you wanted to withhold it, your eyes rolled & the sigh that left your lips was one of pure exhaustion. Zemo never made a secret out of it. His dislike for you started off the moment he first laid his eyes on you. From then on, it only seemed to increase steadily. You were a simple person. If someone treated you like shit, you returned that favor with pleasure & ten times worse.

“You are awake.” he stated the obvious after his frame entered through the doorway.

“Pretty sure I’m still dreaming.” you replied sarcastically, your elbows propping onto your knees. A smirk formed at the corners of his mouth. Whatever you said, it was the wrong thing.

“You dream about being locked inside a small cell? And I make an appearance as well? This does sound problematic, (Y/N). Nothing I would not be able to help you with.” he enjoyed this. Disgust made itself shown onto your face.

“Yeah? How could you possibly help me with that?” it took you a second to fully realize what you said. Immediately, you corrected yourself. “You know what? I don’t even wanna know.” your head rested in your hands, slightly embarrassed by turning this conversation awkward. Maybe it would have been more convenient if you just kept quiet. Zemo chuckled shortly but did not comment on it again.

“I assume you wonder why you are here.” the Baron observed your small frame on the floor. It was easy to recognize how uncomfortable you were.

“Your assumption might be correct.” your head tilted upwards, trying to hide the fear. Burying it deep down. You needed to think clearly so you could escape him.

“Would you like me to declare your purpose?” he questioned, eyebrows raising.

“Enlighten me, Baron.” you wasted no time with your reply. Maybe you imagined it but you could have sworn that his muscles tensed up when you called him by his title. You were the weaker one here so you kept your jokes at bay.

“I have no desire to get involved with the Wakandans. A getaway is more enjoyable with a suitable associate.” his hands gestured & you fathomed the seriousness behind his words.

“Oh, so that’s what I am now? An associate? Could’ve sworn I was your enemy. Improvement, I guess.” you focused on a lighter spot that interrupted the evenly dark color of the cement wall.

“I never declared you my enemy. That is solely your imagination.” Zemo stared at you but you would not give him the satisfaction of holding eye contact with him. He did not deserve it.

“I prefer my imagination then.” you stated & earned another chuckle from the Baron.

“Our departure is soon.” he let you know & left you alone once again. Great, so he did have a plan for you. But it did not seem like he wanted to murder you brutally. Basically, you could do nothing. The lock of the door clicked. No way out of this room. And your cellphone was no longer with you. He probably removed it from you while you were unconscious.

The drug Zemo had you breathe in really affected you. Tiredness rushed through you still. Falling asleep once again was inevitable. A steady, loud noise stirred you from your slumber. When your eyes opened, the chair you were seated in felt familiar. Your surroundings were not new to you. It was Zemo’s private jet. No sight of him. No sight of Sam & Bucky. The only company was the engine of the small plane, creating a ringing in your ears. Surprisingly, you were well rested. Your sleep schedule was messed up. On a good day, you slept for three hours. On a normal day, though, you were lucky if the dreamland even invited you in. Did that mean that you should thank Zemo? For drugging you? Your gratitude could stay inside, for now. It was kind of embarrassing to admit that you had enough rest because of him stunning you. All it would do was feeding his ego. He had enough of that already. Would it be clever to hop out of a plane that was thousands of feet in the air? A clever suicide mission, maybe. Zemo would not harm you. If he truly wanted to, you would be a ghost already. Where was he anyway? Certainly, he would not leave your side after kidnapping you. A look down your lap confirmed what you had feared. The trembling of your hands was noticeable. Almost worse than usual. If push came to shove, you could defend yourself perfectly fine. The Baron did not strike you as a fighter type of guy. Sure, he could handle a gun. In reality, the one thing he could really handle was his alcohol. If you had been in a cell for almost ten years, you would not be able to cope with this world either. Now that you were thinking about it...when was Zemo not drinking? Ever since you guys had teamed up, he had taken every chance to get some liquor into his system.

“How are you feeling?” a voice startled you. The cause of it was your dear captivator. His strut brought him over to you, taking a seat right opposite of you. Plopping down onto the soft cushion with a sigh, he intertwined his fingers in front of his chest. His chin rested on the back of them. The intensity with which he eyed you was unsettling. Your body curled together, shifting away from his rigid glance. The man in front of you frowned. Never before had you behaved that way. Usually, you were sarcastic, humorous. Your current state was uncommon. The fight or flight instinct kicked in. If you played by his rules, the cards were on your side. So the only natural thing was to answer him.

“Okay.” it was short but the tone held much meaning.

“Okay is not good.” he mumbled quietly, though you could still make out his words. The clouds outside of the window you were sitting next to looked like cotton. Smooth, soft. Perfect if you wanted to jump in. The sunset colored the sky in various, bright hues. A phenomenon. That was something that had always fascinated you. “Astonishing, is it not?” the silence broke when he spoke up yet again. You nodded, still gazing outside.

“We will arrive soon.” another voice joined you. The startle from your side could not be stopped. You hated how jumpy you were. Especially during such a situation. The strong, independent woman you usually were was gone. Right now, you were like a little girl, awaiting punishment for misbehavior. Apparently, the Baron was a mind reader because he soothed your worries immediately.

“You did nothing wrong, if that is one of your concerns.” he started. His eyes then flickered to the other man on the private jet. “Thank you, Oeznik.” small smiles were exchanged between the two of them. The assistant disappeared through a door again. Zemo being the only company left.

“Where are we going?” you had to know.

“Somewhere safe. Where nobody can locate me.” as his eyes met yours, he finished. “Us.” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His explanation was not helpful at all. You were still left in the dark. Your destination was unknown but he assured you that you would be safe. Zemo would never lie about something so significant. This bugging feeling was still present. If he did not tell you more about the location, maybe he could elucidate this.

“Why me? Why, out of everyone, did you kidnap me?” slight anger was behind your eyes but one could only notice if they looked precisely. The Baron’s head tilted. In amusement, you guessed. His forming smile held a hint of another emotion you could not quite identify.

“Kidnapping is such a harsh word, don’t you think?” was it mockery you could hear? “I believe there is no need for us to repeat our previous conversation. I told you why you’re here.” he stood up from his seat, dragging his body to the very end of the plane. There, he picked up two small glasses. The liquid of the half empty bottle of scotch poured a good amount in both of them. Evidently, one for him & one for you. His hand stretched out towards you & he offered you the drink. You eyed it suspiciously. While you were not one for drinking alcohol, maybe it would assist to calm your nerves. In the end, you reached for it, touching his hand in the process. The skin contact sent an unintended chill down your spine. Goosebumps were forming. The pit of your stomach felt odd. Never before had you experienced such a sensation. Though, & you had to admit that, it was everything but unpleasant. Your body language spoke louder than you would have liked. And it did not go unnoticed by the man in front of you. To avoid an awkward tension, he decided against commenting on your body’s reaction.

The first sip made you wince. A burning sensation washed down your throat. The Baron handled his alcohol way better than you did, that much was obvious. Unfortunately, the liquor did not numb your anxiety right away. The effect was awaited but luck was not on your side. Would it be rude to ask for another drink? The downside was not realizing how strong it was. If you got wasted then Zemo could take advantage of your state. Depended on how he defined taking advantage of you. The conversation that had died down for a while was resurrected. This time, it was you. This shocked not only you but also him.

“I don’t like you.” you stated monotonously.

“I am aware.” he chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“You don’t like me either.” one of your eyebrows raised.

“An incorrect assumption.” his hands gestured to emphasize his words. You rolled your eyes, throwing your arms up in frustration.

“A freaking obvious fact.” you breathed out, falling back into your chair. The softness caressed you tenderly. A hum left you & your previous desperation was replaced by some sort of relaxation. Why did your emotions change so quickly? One moment, you were scared. The next, you were furious. Then, you untightened. All in the presence of the man who had kidnapped you.

“What is going through your mind right now?” seemed like he was eager to talk to you. Comfortable silence with Baron Zemo was not possible. It was either awkward or not quiet at all. Your head snapped into his direction. He was deep in thought. Occupied with whatever his mind came up with.

“I-I don’t know.” you were being honest. Spending more time with him meant no lies. At least not about such things. The next question came naturally. “What about you?” one corner of his lips lifted slightly. The first step in the right direction. Deep down, Zemo was aware that you did not exactly hate him. Liking him would be too far but at least, you tolerated him. Accepted his presence.

“I am quite fond of bringing you with me. Sam & James are irritating. Helpful but irritating. You are a delight to be around.” he confessed & you had the urge to call him out on his ridiculous behavior.

“Sounds fake but alright…” your annoyance was audible.

“I beg your pardon?” he abandoned his glass, placing it on the small table nearby. Elbows propped onto his knees & his upper body leaned forward, closer to you. But not close enough to make you feel uncomfortable.

“Ever since we met, we’ve been arguing non-stop. This is the first normal conversation between us.” your fingers pointed to him & then to you, signaling what you were talking about.

“Arguments are not an indicator for antipathy.” Zemo explained.

“Oh, they’re not?” the sarcasm was more than obvious. “What then?”

“They are concealing true emotions, burying your urges deep within.” casually spoken, as if he had prepared this exact speech multiple times before.

“My urges?” you questioned, making fun of his statement.

“Indeed.” he wore a winning smile & you hated the effect it had on you.

“Sure.” you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “My only urge is to punch yo-“ both of your heads turned into the direction of Oeznik who unknowingly interrupted your conversation.

“We’re here.” he claimed, nodding briefly, & left you alone again. By the way his face changed, he looked like he was sorry for bothering the two of you. Truthfully, you were glad that he joined you because without him, you would have said something regrettable.

Paris. He dragged you to France. If your situation were any different, you would have felt excited to be here. Before you exited the private jet, Zemo threatened you. If you had the glorious idea to speak up before you arrived at your destination, you would regret it later. Basically, you thought he would kill you. Of course you had no clue that the Baron would never hurt you in any way. After all, you were a victim of his kidnapping. Whether he called it that or not. The small alleyways were decorated with narrow buildings sitting next to each other. The cobblestone street underlined the atmosphere perfectly. Eyes wide, you were overwhelmed by the impression of the beauty of the sweet town. When one of his hands reached for yours, you did not even flinch back. Because, if you were honest, it felt good. Your intertwined fingers brought you warmth. A feeling that spread out through your entire body. Sparks, almost like the beginning of a firework, started forming. The sun shone brightly. Your eyes closed contently. Hence why you did not notice Zemo watching your every move. He reminisced your features closely. The sunlight brought out the beauty of you in a way that was worth remembering. Your body sensed something. It was in your nature when someone stared at you. Carefully, your eyes opened, showing the (Y/E/C) colors that glowed almost mysteriously in the light. Warm brown ones locked onto yours. The two of you exchanged an honest, almost shy smile.

“What?” your head tilted to the side, observing his face. Looking for a sign. Any sign. But Zemo was a clandestine guy. It was almost impossible to look through him. Something inside you took that as a challenge. Maybe you could make his walls come crashing down. Maybe you were the one to change him. Wait. Why were your thoughts running down that road? He was the person to take you away from your friends. The sympathy that started building up was wrong. That much you knew. Resisting felt like a tough task. What did he say during the flight? Something about pushing down your urges. This was the first time you understood the meaning.

If you thought the town was pretty then the apartment you entered was stunning. It was on the top floor. Spacious, furnished in a minimalist way. Overly white, accentuated with colorful artwork. Special pieces to complete the look of it. It screamed expensive. The process of taking everything in took a few minutes. It was overstraining. In the best way possible. You should screw down your excitement. After all, you were part of an incredibly dangerous situation. But you let his touch linger on your skin. Just for a fraction longer. If you really wanted to, you could have retreated. Something told you that Zemo would not have forced you to hold onto him. That thought alone calmed you down a little further. Technically, he was not a stranger. Throughout the missions you had performed together, with Sam & Bucky, you two had become acquainted with. You were associates, apparently. And associates were not supposed to fear one another. Then again, associates would not kidnap each other. Your body was overthrown with mixed signals. Unknown what was wrong & what was right. Your friends would probably describe you as insane, reckless. Maybe you were. Maybe the last few weeks had formed you into a different type of person. That type who sympathized with a criminal. With a criminal who broke out of a high security jail. Since when had criminals become your type? And why were you starting to think in a very friendly, almost amorous way? Looked like you really were insane.

Who would have thought the Baron to be an excellent chef? Definitely not you. But here he was, preparing a meal for you. This was actually pretty sweet of him. His body behind the stove & his eyes focused on the task. It was a sight for sore eyes. Only, of course, if he were not Zemo you were referring to. While he cooked, you set the table. He assured you that you did not have to but it felt like the right thing to do. It was the least you could do. What were you even saying? He kidnapped you, for God’s sake. Your body, your emotions, should be damned.

“Is this something you do often?” Zemo’s question caught you off guard. For a moment, you halted in your tracks. Cutlery was being put down. A deep breath left your mouth.

“What?” your bewildered expression made him chuckle. Funny to watch your perplexity.

“Living in your head more than in the present.” his proclamation cut through the tension.

“I…um, haven’t realized that, actually.” you answered awkwardly. Your hand raised to the back of your head, resting behind your ear.

“You do. When spending time with Sam & James. And now. It is quite entertaining.” he eyed you closely. It made you slightly uncomfortable.

“Why?” your curiosity got the best of you. That was nothing new. Even before he brought you here, your nosiness was on of your more obvious characteristics.

“Because the light in your eyes shifts. You are more at ease. Not to forget your smile…” Zemo trailed off at the end of his sentence, voice a little softer than usual.

“What about my smile?” you really were curious. Would it be in your favor or not? There was only one way to figure that out.

“It differs from when you are actively engaged in a conversation. The corners of your mouth lift in a softer way. No hesitation or restriction.” he finished, his sparkling brown eyes meeting yours. Due to the embarrassment, you could not keep eye contact. So you averted your gaze, facing the almost empty plate in front of you.

“You talk like you’ve known me forever.” your whispers were almost missed. The tone so quiet, even your racing heart was louder.

“I am simply skilled at reading people. You facilitate that process, actually.” every single word he spoke made so much sense that it almost did not make sense anymore. There was no other way to describe it.

“I do? How?” your constant short questions were amusing to him. On one hand, you wanted to distance yourself from him as much as possible. On the other hand, you inquired every single time he finished talking.

“I assume it is because you do not fear opening up to me & letting me in.” people who did not know your history would have believed you two had been friends for years. By the way he discerned the small, almost unnoticeable details about you. Details you did not even know existed in the first place.

“You assume an awful lot, Baron.” you teased, eyes moving to his face gingerly.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” but you could not. Because it would have been a lie. A smirk made its way onto his face when you did not give him a reply. Unintentionally, you mimicked his expression. He had you. Right here, he had you. And he was not the only one aware of the shift in the situation. You were just as deep in it as he was. It was a game with fire. Who would get burned in the end?

~to be continued~

Published (04/28/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @yallgotkik, @noavengers, @lieutenantn, @birdieofloxley, @aisling1985, @trelaney, @hiddlestoner-cumberbitch, @msmarvelsmain, @friday18eo, @crackerjackharkness, @waiting-for-motivation, @obsessedwithfandomsx, @friday18eo, @bibliophilewednesday, @princess-yuna, @trenton007, @pedropascallovebot, @your-lovers-heart, @stressedoutsteph (thanks for your support <3)

[shozto]

⏤ wounds.

ask: Hi if requests are still open could I please request a Dabi(Touya) x civilian reader? Where she finds him badly injured and unconscious then she drags him back to her apartment to treat his wounds and when Dabi regains consciousness he finds her sleeping next to him in her bed. 

pairing: dabi / f!reader

wordcount: 3.4k

genre: angst, fluff, strangers to something more(?)

warning: brief descriptions of injuries and pain, swearing, a makeout scene, suggestive but literally nothing happens, dabi is kind of ooc? but not really

+ summary: dabi is extremely hurt, and you are the only one there to help him. 

note! this is the first thing i’ve written on here since my hiatus almost 2 years ago! i hope you like it

Music thumped through the brick wall and into the narrow alleyway. This club was pretentious to say the least, but it provided a loud, pounding wall of safety from the dangerous streets. The darkness of the city after dark only brought the stench of danger and death, something Dabi didn’t prefer, but knew well. He still went out anyway.

Dabi is always careful when he goes out. Sure, he gets hurt sometimes, but never anything too serious or life threatening. It’s a habit of his, one he is extremely determined on keeping. But, no matter how careful he is, something is bound to slip through at one point or another.

Blood seeped through the gash on his side. It leaked past his white shirt, staining it a deep red and dripping onto the ground as he leaned against the wall of the alley. His scarred hand pressed against the wound and he groaned, falling to the ground letting out a sputtered cough. 

So much for being careful. 

“Those bastards,” he grunted. His legs pushed against the ground before he hunched over and heaved for breath. He felt his mouth fill with saliva as he hyperventilated and squeezed his eyes shut. 

They stabbed him with a knife. He killed them, of course. Burning them to a crisp in one glance. But that didn’t help the gaping wound in his side.

This isn’t an often occurrence for Dabi; he hardly ever got hurt, and when he did, it was always on his own accord. He could deal with the pain from burns, at least those didn’t make him feel like he was dying from the inside out. Being stabbed was a different kind of pain, though. Dabi felt like he was really about to die. 

But then, his saving grace.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” A voice came from his left. Your voice was panicked and shaky, but oh so gentle. 

You came into view and his vision blurred. Your hand was warm against his cheek and cool against the wound on his side, a fresh relief. You pulled the purse off your shoulder and sifted through the items before pulling out a cellphone and dialing something on the keypad.

Dabi’s hand grabbed your wrist and he shook his head. 

“What?” you looked at him. “I’m going to call an ambulance, you need to go to the hospital.”

He shook his head again and grunted, trying to push himself up into a sitting position. “No hospitals. No police.”

His voice was rough and deep, it took you a moment to process what exactly he was saying. When you did, you felt your heart fall in your chest. 

“Okay, okay... no hospitals or police...” you sucked in a breath. “I can take you to my apartment, it’s just up there.” you pointed to a window above them on the other side of the alley. 

Dabi nodded and felt his vision blurring once more. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay conscious much longer. 

“Come on, stay with me please,” you spoke softly, trying to pull him up on his feet. “I need you to walk, I’ll help you just please try and stand up.”

Your arms pulled him up to his feet and he stumbled, falling on top of your smaller frame. You grunted at the weight and tried to drag him to your apartment building.

One step, two steps. A few more through the door when your entered the digits on the keypad. Finally into the apartment building. 

Dabi collapsed. 

Dabi woke up with an ache in his side. He let out a groan and shifted his body, turning to his stomach and running his hand through his hair. His eyes fluttered open and, much to his surprise, sleeping beside him was a girl.

You looked familiar, but he didn’t know why. Did he sleep with you? No, he shook his head. You were fully clothed and looked far too peaceful for having spent the night in bed with him. 

Then, another sharp pain in his abdomen. He sucked in a breath and let his hand drift to the ache. He was shirtless, a white bandage wrapped around his waist. Oh, right. He got stabbed. So your were the one who helped him then.

your sudden movement caught his attention. You stretched your arms out and your eyes opened slowly.

“Good morning.” you smiled, looking into his cerulean eyes. Intimidating yet warm, and very, very confused. “Did you sleep well?” your voice was gentle, just like before. But this time it was calmer, more comfortable. 

Dabi lifted his arm and tucked it under his head. “Care to explain why ‘m sleepin’ in your bed, angel?”

Deflected your question with his own, of course. That was what he was best at. 

You shifted and turned your gaze away from his own. It felt like they were burning holes in your eyes; scary and understandably so. He must’ve been a villain. You weren’t sure if you could hold eye contact with him for more than three seconds. “You were hurt badly. Like, really bad, and you didn’t want me to take you to the hospital so I tried my best to patch you up here. You were also running a high fever, probably from the loss of blood. I let you sleep in my bed, and I was going to sleep on the couch, but you kept waking up from these... nightmares? I felt bad leaving you so... I just came to sleep here in case you needed anything.”

Your hand found the bandage on his waist and you brushed your fingers against the white fabric. Thank god the blood wasn’t leaking through anymore. “What’s your name, anyway? And how did you get hurt so badly? Don’t tell me it’s the reason why you didn’t want me taking you to the hospital or calling the police...”

He felt you finch when he grabbed your wrist. 

“I’m Dabi, angel face. You have a name? Or do you prefer me calling you ‘angel’?”

You laughed a little out of sheer awkwardness. “My name is y/n.”

Dabi hummed and pulled you closer to his body until your chests were touching. You were cold. “You okay, y/n? You seem a little shaken up.”

You pushed him away and got out of the bed. “What are you trying to do?”

He sat up and leaned against the headboard, a slight smirk on his lips. “Just trying to repay you for helpin’ me out last night. Want me to make you feel good? Tell me what you want, princess. I’ll give it to you.”

“We literally just met, Dabi. I only learned your name two minutes ago. Stop being a creep and have some human decency, for god’s sake. I just saved your life.”

You slipped out of the bedroom door and walked toward the kitchen. Dabi frowned and got out of the bed, following behind you. 

Dabi was not a creep. Well, not in the sense that you were getting at; he was a villain. He assumed it fit his image and it was easy to assume such things, but it wasn’t fair of you to say that. But then again, he did just try and make a move on you... maybe it was warranted. 

Who could blame him, though? You were alluring in your own right. Pretty skin, cute smile, bright eyes. You helped him when he thought he was going to die. Now that was something he didn’t quite process. Who was he kidding? That was horrifying; but then again, nothing was ever as horrifying as what happened when he was a child. Either way, he really was grateful for your help. He just didn’t know how to show it. 

You knew he was following you, but you didn’t speak. You would make him some breakfast, then kick him out. So much for the butterflies fluttering in your stomach whenever he spoke. 

“Sorry about that,” Dabi said after a few minutes of silence between the two of you. The sizzling of rice being coated in oil and vegetables was loud. It smelled way too good to be considered fried rice. 

You hummed in response and tapped your fingers against the handle of the spatula in your hand. “It’s okay.”

Well that wasn’t much of a surprise, but it still took him aback. You were too kind for your own good.

“Thank you, though. For real.”

“It’s the least I can do. Even though you’re a villain, and if the police find out I helped you, I’ll probably get arrested and then lose my scholarship and fail at my dream of becoming a doctor. But it’s okay.”

Now that, that was a surprise. 

“You wanna be a doctor?” not the doctor part. (he was honestly not surprised about that, it only made sense. you actually knew what you were doing and how to help him). he was surprised that you were this open to him. 

“Yeah,” you paused as you pulled out bowls to put the rice in. “It’s technically my parents’ dream for me. But I’ve realized I enjoy it a lot more than I thought I would. I like helping people, it makes me happy.” You handed him his bowl and sat beside him. “I just realized that’s probably the last thing you wanna hear. Don’t villains find the idea of helping people disgusting?”

Dabi laughed. 

It was a warm, gravely laugh, probably due to the fact he just woke up. It made your heart feel like it was being coated in thick honey and you felt heat rise to your face. You liked his laugh. 

“I don’t know about other villains, but I really could not care less. But no, the last thing I would want to hear is you being a hero. That would be terrifying.”

You felt a smile creep up your lips and a tight feeling grew in your chest. “Yeah, never. I have too weak a quirk to do that. And putting my life on the line? No thanks. I have way too much to lose.”

“Too much to lose, huh?” he said. He ate some of the rice. “What’s your quirk? Some healing shit?”

You shook your head. “No, but that would be ideal. I have a simple nature quirk. Like I can grow flowers and make the leaves change color.”

“Sweet quirk for a sweet girl.”

You flushed. “What’s yours?”

Dabi held out a single finger and in a split second, a small blue flame emitted from the tip. “Just fire. I’d show you more but I might burn your apartment down and you’d murder me. Plus I’d feel a little bad.”

“Blue fire?”

“Yeah.”

“What were your parents’ quirks? I’ve never seen anyone have blue fire before.” you asked innocently. Dabi gritted his teeth.

“Fire and ice, i guess. I don’t remember too well, though. Haven’t seen ‘em in a long time.”

You were about to ask another question, but realized it might be a little insensitive. Besides, it was none of your business.

“Sorry,” you murmured. Then, you ate. 

You weren’t quite sure what had happened, but you saw Dabi quite frequently nowadays. 

After you told him you had a night class, you would often see him outside the campus waiting for you so he could walk you home. Other times, he would bring you little things like food or candy. 

You assumed it made him happy; bringing you things or walking you home. It would be a lie if you said it didn’t make you happy as well. He was sort of a dandere type; he let you do most of the talking and sometimes it seemed like he didn’t care, but he proved that he was listening when he brought you the snacks that you told him you liked, or when he gave you a little nightlight after you told him you were afraid of the dark. 

He was sweet; unbelievably so. And over the past few weeks, you realized that you might have a major romantic connection to him. It was almost like you were in a relationship together, but not really.

You had never gone out on a date or anything like that, but you could tell he liked you in a certain way. The way he teased you or called you cute. The way he slept over in your bed often. At first he said it was because he didn’t want to go back to his place since his roommates were annoying. 

It was the way he hugged you when he said goodbye or the lingering gazes when you would cook him dinner. One time you kissed him on the cheek when he was pretending he was asleep. You swore you saw him blush.

Tonight felt different. You hadn’t seen him in a few days; he was away, he said. He told you not to worry, but you did. How could you not? He was like your best friend.

There was a knock on your door. It was loud and hard, and you felt your heart stutter in your chest. You walked quickly to the peephole, and much to your surprise, dabi was standing there. You flung the door open.

“Dabi,” you ran into his arms, hugging around his waist tightly and burying your face into his chest. You let out a shaky breath and you felt tears well up in your eyes. 

“Hey, angel,” he said softly and rested his face on the top of your head, breathing in deeply. “Missed you,” he muttered. He kissed your head gently and hummed. “We should go inside, baby.”

You sniffled and nodded, pulling away from his warm body and interlacing your hand with his own before leading him inside and closing the door behind you. 

“How was it?” you asked. You never asked about his ‘work’. You knew it made him a little upset. Not that he didn’t trust you, he just didn’t like you hearing about that side of himself. He had his own motivations and drives, as did you. You didn’t question them, because you knew they were valid. 

He sighed and sat on your couch, leaning back and running his hands down his face. “It was fine, just tiring,”  he said. 

He closed his eyes and tossed his head back, resting his arm on the back of the couch, his long legs spread wide. Sometimes you forgot how tall he was. You never forgot how attractive he was. 

You fiddled with your fingers as you stood by the coffee table. You were worried about him... how could you not? He was one of the most important people in your life right now. You don’t know what you’d do with yourself if he died.

He let out something between a sigh and a groan. You felt your insides twist. 

Cerulean blue eyes opened slightly and caught yours. “C’mere, angel,” he said, opening his arms. 

You complied and walked over to him, standing in between his parted thighs. He quirked a brow at your shyness and his hands found your hips, pulling you forward onto his lap so your legs were on either side of his thighs. 

Your hands gripped the front of his shirt and you leaned forward, burying your head in his neck. He was so warm, obviously a result of his quirk. He smelled like campfires in the rain... a rare experience in itself. It wasn’t until Dabi started rubbing your back that you realized you were crying.

“Shhh, baby. It’s okay,” he breathed in your ear. “I’m right here, you don’t need to worry.”

You sniffled and rubbed your face against the rough skin of his neck. You kissed it gently; it made your heart drop whenever you felt his burns. You knew they didn’t hurt. It was just scar tissue. But you felt so sad whenever you thought about them, he had so much pain buried in his heart. These burns were a result of his bad past.

Dabi pulled your body closer to his own so there was no space in between. His large hands held your shoulders and pulled you so you were facing him. His long fingers grazed your cheek and settled for threading through your hair and cupping your jaw. 

“Look at me,” he whispered, his burning blue eyes searching your face. You sniffled again and hesitantly looked up into them. “There she is,” he smiled and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. You let out a small laugh when he nudged her nose with his own. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head and looked down again.

“Hey, what did I say? Look at me, y/n,” your name dripped from his tongue and you felt your stomach twist. You looked up at him again.

“I’m just worried about you,” you said with a shaky breath. “And... I know you don’t want my pity but I just feel so sad when I think about what you’ve had to go through. It hurts me, thinking about it. I just want you to be happy, and I know you’re trying to accomplish your goal by working with the league, but I just...” you trailed off and looked down again. His thumb brushed your cheek again. “I just want you to be okay and safe. I know you’re doing what you have to do, but I love you and it hurts so bad seeing you in pain.”

“Angel...” he kissed your forehead. “I’m not in pain.”

You shook your head. “You are. I can tell.”

“I’m perfectly fine, don’t worry about me, okay? I didn’t get hurt.”

he was always so gentle when it came to you.

“Not physically. I mean mentally,” you sighed and brought your hands to his cheeks, mirroring his actions from before. He let his hands drop to your hips, rubbing soft circles in the dips. “Your past, the hurt you have in your heart. These scars may just be old burns, but they’re wounds. They are proof of your pain. Even if it was a long time ago.”

You kissed under his left eye. Then his right. You noticed he let out a small sigh when you kissed his jaw, then his ear, his neck, his collar bone. You looked back up at his face; his eyes were closed. You smiled softly and held under his jaw again, pulling your face closer to his. He felt your breath on his lips, but his eyes remained shut. Your thumb hesitantly traced his bottom lip and he hummed. You slowly leaned in and captured his lips in your own. 

The kiss was slow and warm and sensual. It was kind of surprising that you had never kissed him before, but you realized it might have been because of what happened on the morning you met.

His grip tightened on your hips and he let out a small groan when you pulled your lips away from his own. Your hands slowly dragged down to his shoulders.

“Was that okay?” you whispered and he opened his eyes slowly. 

Instead of responding, he grabbed the back of your head and kissed you again, fervently. It was hot and it made you feel like your breath had been knocked out of you, but it was slow and tight and it made your mind go fuzzy. You whimpered when his tongue traced along your gums, your grip on his shirt growing tighter and you realized you were shaking. 

He moved to kiss your jaw below your ear and you swore you couldn’t breathe. He whispered something about breathing before continuing his trail of kisses down your neck, sucking at the skin there. You struggled to breathe in and you found Dabi rubbing your arm with one of his hands. He squeezed you lightly and stopped his kissing, pulling away and holding you close, pushing your head into the crook of his neck.

You whimpered when he rubbed your back again, and you were now in the same position as you were before. 

He felt your hot breath on his neck and he kissed your shoulder. 

“You okay?” he asked. You nodded and moved so you were facing him again. You smiled and ran your hands through his dark locks.

“I love you,” you said once more. He smiled and pecked your lips. 

“I love you too.”

[narrators-journal]

A small alteration

So! This part is the...second or third to last part, so we’re getting to the end bois. After this, I’ll likely die, or at least not post daily like I have been, so if you guys want more content after this, remember to send in an ask for me to answer! Request stuff, ask me questions, joke around with me, whatever yall want. It’ll hold this blog over until I finish this second fic and can start posting/editting it here!

cw: lightly goes into detail on torture, hisoka, that’s about it I think!

Previous part: here

First part: here

Thankfully, Hisoka didn't stop by after his phone call, but Illumi still took no chances when he went onto jobs. Along with Milluki using the spy cameras Illumi had placed earlier, the long haired assassin made sure at least three butlers were keeping an eye on you whenever he couldn't.

That precaution kept you far away from the blood hungry magician for a week, much to Illumi's relief. Hisoka was a pest, a thorn in Illumi's side through and through, so the last thing the assassin wanted was for him to meet his future wife. Especially now, when you were just too desperate for human contact, and he couldn't risk you getting attacked or manipulated by Hisoka and forcing the assassin to kill such a useful nen user. Or worse, risk you meeting him and growing to love the magician instead of him, so he was dead set on never letting you two meet.

So, instead of risking it, he made sure to keep you as secret as possible, at most giving vague answers to keep the violent hunter at bay when he found him on jobs or something and asked, but confirming or denying little to nothing. Aside from that, Illumi also let the man help him on missions a bit more, both because the assassin could hide things better than his butlers when questioned, and because, though annoying, the vibrantly colored man offered some sort of entertainment on otherwise painfully boring jobs like assassinating businessmen, ex-lovers, or runaway spouses. Though, Hisoka simply popped up sometimes too, either being in the right place at the right time to join on kills, or somehow seeking Illumi out, like a risky, aggravating jack-in-the-box. That habit had gotten him a trip to the Zoldyck basement and torture rooms recently, though it was also a reason Illumi humored the magician when he got bored and asked for help more.

        "Please make this simple and tell me where you put the money taken from Mr. Mori." Illumi told his target, a rather pretty young woman he'd been tasked to interrogate, torture, and kill by her ex-sugar daddy.         "Is she under-aged, is that why you won't tell me about her?" Hisoka asked, sitting on the table of menacing torture tools in a dungeon of the Zoldyck estate, having talked the assassin into letting him out to help in this little chat. Illumi was beginning to regret his decision to humor the magician though. The tall assassin glared at the other man for his interruption, only getting an innocent smile in return,         "No, she is not under-aged." He said curtly, and his companion snickered,         "Well, when can I meet her? I'm dying to know what type of woman a Zoldyck lusts after~"         "Never." Hisoka pouted at his flat refusal, but the assassin simply returned to questioning his captive, only turning back to the pink-haired man to grab some pliers from the table,  "Now, I will ask this once more, if I don't get an answer I'll tear out your finger nails until I do. Where is your ex's money?" he warned the woman, who was sobbing and pleading to be freed from the cold, dark room. When she didn't answer his question though, he kept true to his word, gripping one of her nails with the pliers and pulling until it came away from the nail bed. The monotone assassin continued pulling out his target's crimson-painted fingernails while she tried to lie and say she had no idea where his client's money was. No matter, when he ran out of fingernails, he could always move to toenails or teeth.

Hisoka held a metal bowl that Illumi put the dislocated fingernails in, adding a soft clattering noise to the soundtrack of the woman's sobs, screams, and the lazy buzz of the one lantern that hung from the stone wall until he stood up in the partially lit cell to get another tool from the table.          "mmm, she seems quite fun to torture~" Hisoka observed, getting a twisted grin across his face as he looked down at the restrained woman,          "She's unbearably loud," Illumi sighed, looking around on the table of tools until he found a rather simple salt shaker, ignoring when Hisoka leaned a bit too close,          "Y'know, I bet I could get your girlfriend to be just as loud~" he hummed, and something inside of Illumi seemed to snap for a moment. His aloof air instantly changed to palpable malice and he whirled around on the magician, punching him in the face hard enough to send him sprawling across the cold stone floor. The assassin didn't even give him a chance to react once he landed though, in a flash he was on top of him, holding him down by his throat while his knee pressed down on his ribs,           "if you so much as look at my wife, Hisoka, I will fucking kill you before your heart gives another beat." he snarled, tightening his grip on the man's neck until he was gasping and wheezing for air. The pink-haired man gave a nod, a  smirk tugging at his lips still, but the feral murderer didn't let him breath until that coy look finally left and he saw panic replace Hisoka's usual mischievous glint in his gold eyes. When Illumi did finally let him up, the magician was gulping down air and glaring at him instead of his usual knowing, coy glance,           "Jesus Christ Illumi, learn to take a joke. You know my humor can be perverted, there was no need to nearly kill me!" he snapped, the magician's flirty act falling away, but Illumi didn't respond, he simply checked on the woman he'd been tasked to torture. Sadly though, she was now dead from the amount of malevolence  in his nen,          "Great, because of your 'joke' my job just got harder." Illumi said, his voice back to being cold,          "That wasn't my fault, you were the one who didn't just use one of your needles on her to begin with." he pointed out testily, getting glared at by the man,         "The client wanted me to specifically torture her, my needles would have been redundant and not what the client asked for. Of course, I didn't know you were going to be this annoying, or else I would've gotten the information from her at the start." he hummed, and while his voice stayed flat and his face stayed rather aloof, Illumi was boiling with wrath on the inside. Being a pest was one thing, but now Hisoka had actually crossed an important line. So, Illumi simply found the woman's phone in her purse and than called in some butlers. He gave one the cellphone, sending it to Milluki to make use of himself and scour through, than he turned to Hisoka, who was standing in a dark corner across the small cell glaring at them, mostly Illumi.  "Now, I will say this nicely only once," the man said, though his words held no kindness, "please return to your cell with the butlers without a fight, or else I will be forced to call my family and drag you back." The two men stood there for a moment in a heavy silence that seemed to bring down the temperature of the already cold cell further. Illumi wasn't very expressive, he purposely added inflections and overt body language to himself when speaking to you, but Hisoka didn't get that sort of kindness, he simply got stared down by bottomless eyes and a deadpan assassin he knew very well was competent enough to stand up to him. So, he simply grinned a predatory grin at the long haired murderer,        "Fine, I'll go back to my cell peacefully," he relented, putting his hands up with a mischievous smirk. One of these days Morrow, I'm going to finally kill you. Illumi thought as at least three butlers escorted the magician back to where he'd been held, but he didn't say or show the annoyance as they passed.       "Oh, and Illumi, dear? Do tell (y/n) hello for me~" Illumi's aura became malevolent again at that, but the butlers and flamboyant pain in the ass were able to avoid dying from it thanks to their training. Instead, all it did was let slip just how fart Hisoka was under Illumi's skin, making the hunter laugh as he was herded away down the dark hallway, leaving the assassin to simmer in his temper before stalking out of the basement. His first stop once upstairs was Milluki's bedroom.        "How did Hisoka find out anything about (y/n)?" he asked, his voice's flat, monotonous tone coming off as more menacing when paired with how he slammed his brother's face into his trash-littered desk,        "I don't know! Why are you asking me?" the pudgy man hissed out, barring his teeth at his older sibling when he tightened his grip on his hair,       "You are the only person on this mountain aside from Mother who knows about (y/n), and unlike mother, you are the type to tell that bastard about her for a cookie." he pointed out, and Milluki couldn't argue, he did have pretty flippant loyalties when it came to secrets like this.        "Alright, fine, but I promise I didn't. I haven't been in the basement since Hisoka got here." he explained, and after a moment of harsh scrutiny, Illumi let him go and left his nasty, anime-littered room. The tall man then went to his wing of the home, thinking of what to do now. Hisoka knowing (y/n)'s name is bad. If he can figure it out, more people could. He mused, a wave of possessive anxiety washing away his rage for the time being. I can't leave her alone anymore. He finally decided as he reached his rooms and turned around to instead find his mother.

[lavaffair]

Tongue Tied

Inukag Fluff Week Prompt: Secret/Stolen Kisses

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33168943

Miroku stared at the half demon with raised eyebrows as he growled impatiently.

“How long does it take for two women to get ready?” It sounded more like a complaint than a question, and the raven-haired man chuckled.

“Inuyasha, this happens every time, why do you seem to forget this?”

Inuyasha huffed in frustration. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”

An annoyed, muffled voice interrupted the men in the living room. “Inuyasha, shut up! Miroku, baby, we’re almost done!” His girlfriend, Sango, called from behind the door. She and Kagome were getting ready for their night out.

A dumb grin immediately appeared on Miroku’s face at the pet name Sango called him. His girlfriend of four years, they have been in this successfully established relationship for a long time. Inuyasha had no idea he would have ever seen his best friend be so loyal to one woman. He was happy for them, no doubt about that, and he was glad there was someone in the world that made Miroku happy.

Miroku was such a huge playboy back in college, and it was not until they both met the girls that Miroku’s main focus turned to Sango. It was an overnight change, a switch that had gone off in his head at the sight of her. Suddenly no other girl mattered, with pointless one-night stands and aimless flirting meaning nothing to the guy.

Back then, Miroku’s mission was to somehow get Sango to agree to go on one date with him, and she would refuse every single time. It was entertaining honestly, and he and Kagome would place bets on the sidelines to see what would happen. The winner would treat the other to a meal of their choice, and the stakes only got higher as Sango’s feelings started to get more obvious.

Eventually, she cracked and agreed to go on a date with the persistent man. They were casual for a while, with Sango being not very confident in how true Miroku was with his feelings. Though, he proved himself every time. And as they spent more time alone together, Inuyasha and Kagome’s friendship only became stronger.

For Inuyasha, it was a big deal, although he would never admit it. He was never great with women, and he was stuck around Miroku most of the time watching him flirt with a random girl every night. He was not the best influence, and Inuyasha was not going to take dating advice from a guy who never took dating seriously.

Kagome was his friend and an incredible one at that. She was always there for him, and he found it really easy for him to talk to her about things he had never told Miroku. At first it scared him; being so open and honest to a person was new to him, but Kagome calmed him. She brought him reassurance and safety, and it engulfed him in a warm aura that he had not felt since his mother was alive. She meant a lot to him, and he was grateful for the events that happened in order for their friendship to grow stronger.

Which, of course, had led them to secretly dating each other for the last month and a half now.

“Aw, baby, they’re almost done.” Inuyasha teased with a shit-eating grin.

Miroku laughed, “You’re just jealous you don’t have a beautiful woman calling you baby my friend.”

Inuyasha chose to ignore the jab and smirked in return. “So I can get whipped like you? I’ll pass.”

The bedroom door clicked open, revealing the two girls who had been hidden behind it dressed to the nines. Sango looked great dressed in dark blue pants that shimmered every time she moved and a halter top with the same color. The top had a crossing design that wrapped around her waist and went underneath her bust. Although, it was the girl beside her that grabbed all of Inuyasha’s attention, and it was incredibly difficult not to make it obvious.

Kagome took his breath away with every second that passed, her wavy raven hair cascading downward and framing her face as if she was a painting. The dress she had on had his body temperature rising at a steady rate. The way the satin material melted into her curves had his heart skipping a beat. It was olive in color, and Inuyasha made a mental note to buy her more clothes in green.

He felt like he was going to die, and he could not do a thing about it except stand here pretending like he was not staring at the most beautiful person in the room. Kagome was having a hard time restraining herself as well, seeing Inuyasha dressed up a little more than usual while still staying true to his comfort and fashion had her mouth-watering.

They had to control themselves. This was not the time. They both agreed to keep this a secret for now, only because they wanted to test out the waters before announcing it to their best friends. As nosy as they were most of the time, it was a miracle that they had yet to find out. The new couple wanted to enjoy their private time together. Besides, it made things a lot more fun. Miroku and Sango would l find out eventually, with it probably being a lot sooner than later since Inuyasha and Kagome were realizing that they definitely could not go back to strictly being friends.

The attraction was there, deeply welled into the ground with no chance of coming loose. Their friendship had blossomed into something they both had not expected, and it took a long time for Inuyasha to come to terms with it before he came clean to Kagome. He was a nervous wreck that day, but so was she, and when he had laid out his heart to her she was right there with him. It was surreal for the two of them, which is why they decided to keep it a secret for the time being. Everything was very new to the pair, as they had not planned on ever falling for each other in the first place.

Quickly, Inuyasha played it off and groaned, “Finally! You guys took forever.”

“Thanks! You look great too. You dress up nice.” Kagome fired back, but he could tell it was just a gimmick.

Sango, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. “It must be so nice to put on a pair of pants and a shirt and call it a day. Maybe even cologne if we’re so lucky.” She smirked, “Kagome and I, on the other hand, love to go all out. We’re hot already, so we don’t have to, but we want to.”

“Yeah, we all agreed we’d go out dressed up for once! We never do this as a group, and it’s going to be fun!” Kagome chimed in. Her smile was contagious, and it was taking everything within him to not launch himself at her and kiss her.

Miroku cleared his throat, “Well unlike someone over here, I think you both look wonderful.” He walked over to Sango and slowly slid his hand down to her bottom, “I think your butt looks great in these pants.” That earned him a slap to the hand.

“Ever the charmer.” Inuyasha retaliated.

“Let me praise my woman in peace.” He said as he feathered his girlfriend's cheek with kisses.

Kagome stuck out her tongue in mock disgust, “Ugh, Inuyasha, let’s go before they decide to bail on us.” She grabbed her bag and walked out in front of him, secretly allowing his eyes to look at her as he followed her out.

Their friends were quick on their tail, and out of the door, finally making their way to Miroku’s car. When they had all sat down inside, Kagome felt around for her phone and realized she had left it inside.

“Wait! I gotta go back for my phone. I left it on the bed!” She yelled.

“Ugh.” Inuyasha complained, “You’re so forgetful. I’ll go with you.” He unclicked his seatbelt to get out of the car, “We can give these two some alone time.”

Kagome giggled and wiggled her eyebrows at Sango, “Have fun. We won’t be long!” She scurried out of the car.

The journey back to the apartment felt endless as the couple felt the tension build between them. As soon as they were both out of sight, their hands met and entangled with one another. They walked in silence, the air felt too heavy between them to spare even one word to one another.

When Kagome turned the key to let them both back into the apartment, Inuyasha's hands were on her quicker than the flash, his lips crashing into hers before she could even get the door closed.

“You little liar.” He whispered into her mouth. “You left your phone on purpose.”

She kissed him back, her arms wrapping around his neck in an attempt to bring him closer. They were both smiling into the kiss as they savored finally being alone together.

“Did I?” She kissed his nose, “What if I actually left it here? You did say I’m forgetful.”

Inuyasha looked at her with awestruck eyes, taking her in completely before kissing her again. “I don’t believe you.” He kissed her face all over, leaving no inch of skin without a touch from his lips.

He left her in a fit of giggles while he continuously kissed her all over, making sure to leave some around the ticklish spot on her neck. “ They're gonna get- haha suspicious if we-“ More giggles, “-Take too long!” She let out.

The half-demon slowed down, kissing her forehead and nose before withdrawing. “It’s not my fault you look so good in this dress.”

“Hmm. If I remember correctly, you didn’t say that when I first walked out.” She teased, “But I do remember hearing you tell Miroku that he’s whipped.” She raised her brow.

Losing the battle, he pressed his lips against her plush ones once again. “Well, he is.”

She laughed, and he took in the beautiful sound. “You sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

He could not take his eyes off her lips, pink and a little swollen from their shared kisses, her big brown eyes, and the freckles that danced on her nose. “Oh no, definitely not.” He lied.

That earned him another giggle from her, and he wanted to keep kissing her so that he could get her to keep laughing. “I wonder who’s the liar now.” She tapped his nose with her finger, earning a little nose scrunch from him. “Now if you excuse me, I need to go get my phone. Sango’s probably spammed texted me by now!”

With one last kiss, Inuyasha let her go into her bedroom to find her cellphone. It was exactly where it was, right on the bed with five texts from her best friend. Although, that will not be the story she tells when they get back into the car.

***

The bar and lounge were packed as any normal bar would be on a Friday night. There were people sitting on the stools right by the bar, as well as the tables and couches that were spaced throughout the room.

The group of four were lucky enough to find a couch with a table and claimed it as theirs before someone else could take it. The music was blaring loudly in the building as the group of friends were figuring out food and drinks for the night. They had agreed on a bar and lounge because clubs are rowdy, don’t have any food, and Inuyasha cannot handle them whatsoever. However, he can definitely handle a bar and lounge. It was a plus that they also sold food along with their drinks.

Inuyasha and Kagome, seated side by side, did their best to fight the urge to hold hands. Unfortunately, they were not seated at a table where they could get away with it. Their hands were on full display, and therefore, could not interact the way they wished they could. Their best friends, on the other hand, were already showcasing their relationship to everybody in the room.

“Alright, what are we getting to eat?” Kagome spoke up, a slight jump coming to her the more she got excited about their orders.

Just as much as he loved to eat, so did his girl, and every time she was able to eat he noticed that she did a little dance in her chair from excitement. She never noticed how often she did that, and he quickly realized how cute it was that she did.

Sango looked through the menu with her best friend, “We have to get wings. I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them, and wings are part of tonight’s menu.”

Miroku laughed, “Babe, get whatever you want. Kagome, the same goes for you. We’ll pay for the tab.”

Kagome scoffed, “You guys always pay! Let us do it for once.”

Inuyasha nudged at her, hoping no one noticed how he poked at her thigh. “Not a chance. It’s not up for debate.”

“Agreed.” Miroku continued, “All you ladies need to do is sit there and enjoy your night.”

Sango rolled her eyes, “We’re paying next time! No excuses.”

Kagome flexed her arm to show off her strength, “We’ll arm wrestle next time and the winner pays! Meaning, Sango and I will pay.” She smirked.

Inuyasha raised his eyebrow, “Did you forget I’m stronger than all of you?”

“Mmm, you wouldn’t dare beat me.” His girlfriend struck back, a playful smile present on her face. All he wanted to do at that moment was kiss it away.

“Haha!” Miroku laughed, “She’s got a point.”

While the girls continued to check out the menu, Inuyasha let his hand linger closer to Kagome’s exposed thigh. It was not much, but to him it was something. This allowed him to remind himself that she was all his and vice versa. They could not be openly affectionate yet, but it was getting harder and harder to hold back.

Once the girls put in their food orders along with everyone’s desired drinks, there was nothing else they could do but wait. The night was still young, and normally the little dance floor in the middle of the room did not get packed until people were drunk. If the girls chose to dance, they would have to wait.

“Alright, so, what are we doing after this?” Sango asked, her voice rising an octave higher to attempt to speak over the music.

“What?” Inuyasha asked, “We’re already at the spot we planned to come to, and you wanna go somewhere else?”

“Inuyashaaaaa,” Kagome dragged on. “Don’t be such a party pooper.” She smacked his cheek playfully, a low growl immediately vibrated deeply in his chest. His girlfriend could not hear it, but oh boy could she feel it, and she was reveling in the effect she had on him.

It was not fair, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to take her away and kiss her senseless again, he wanted to bask in her warmth and in the comforting sound of her giggles.

He already wanted to go home.

He relaxed and raised an eyebrow at her and put on his best-annoyed face. “I’m not a party pooper, Kagome.”

“Au contraire! My friend, you never want to stay out past 2 AM because you’re tired.” Miroku laughed.

“Face it, dog boy, you can’t hang.” Sango teased.

Kagome watched him pout, his annoyance extremely clear on his face, and all she could do was giggle at him. She understood why he hated staying out so late, seeing as how he worked so hard at the shop and knew he was very tired from his job. She knew he knew that they were just teasing him, but he was still going to complain about it.

“Tch. I’m gonna go get the drinks, maybe you guys will get tired after a few shots.” He stood up and made his way towards the bar, his broad back on full display for Kagome to see. She really could not believe how lucky she was, scoring someone so handsome and attentive like him.

Would she admit that it drove her a bit mad that other girls had their eyes glued to him when he walked to the bar too? No, not unless he asked her to. But it did bother her.

Quickly, she shot out of her seat, alarming her friends from her sudden burst. Sango looked at her concerned, and a little confused.

“I’m just gonna go help him out.” She lied. “Four drinks isn’t easy to carry back.”

“Don’t get lost.” Sango called back to her, but it went straight through one ear and out the other.

Kagome sauntered towards the bar, her brown eyes directly on her white-haired target, and smoothly positioned herself right beside him. He was standing beside the long table with no drinks in sight, casually waiting for the bartender with a pout still on his face.

“Baby,” Kagome chimed. “I was just kidding. You’re not a party pooper.”

He did not look at her and decided to keep staring at the fluorescent bottle displayed in front of him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She wrapped her hands around his arm and nuzzled into him, selfishly hoping the women at the other tables were watching. “You look cute when you pout.”

A blush crawled into his cheeks, staining his face red while he tried his best to look like the compliment did nothing to him. “I’m not pouting.”

She laughed again, and it sounded breathless and full of admiration all at the same time. “Do you want me to kiss it away?”

He looked at her eyes, and then at her lips, and back up at her eyes again. Those full, plush, soft lips that he could kiss all day long, for the rest of his life, enticing him to follow through.

“You’re okay with Thing 1 and Thing 2 knowing about us now?” He looked straight into her eyes, making sure to catch any hesitation or discomfort at the question.

“No,” she bit her lip to suppress the grin she had on her face. “Kissing you in secret is always fun, and we can do that anywhere, but I don’t want to hide us anymore from our friends.” She squeezed his arm for emphasis.

“If you’re okay with telling them now, so am I.”

Inuyasha looked down at her, a beautiful pink colored her cheeks at her revelation, and he could not help but smile at her. He kissed her forehead, careful not to smudge her makeup, and grinned. “Babe, get ready to be shown off to everyone. Because after this, everyone’s gonna know about my hot, annoying, and sweet girlfriend.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, “You gonna keep the annoying part in there?”

The half-demon laughed and patted her head. “That’s the part of you that made me fall for you so hard.”

“Drinks for Inuyasha.” the bartender interrupted.

It was Kagome’s turn to pout as the couple made their way back to their friends. With two drinks in each hand, they carefully placed them down on the table and sat back down.

“Inuyasha..” Sango asked, her voice coming off more threatening than usual. “What did you do to Kagome?”

His girlfriend's plush lips were still in a cute little pout, and he could tell immediately that she was trying to get back at him for calling her annoying. They were both messing around with each other as they normally do, but looking at her soft lips and with their previous conversation still fresh in his mind, Inuyasha knew what to do.

“He called me annoying.” Kagome answered, “So, I’m giving him the silent treatment.”

He could not stop his eyes from rolling at her, a humongous grin showing on his face. “Oh, relax, you know I didn’t mean it.”

Kagome’s brown eyes narrowed at him, but instead of looking angry, she looked like she was challenging him. “Hmm, remind me of what you said back at the bar then.”

That was it, the urge to kiss her again was too strong, seeing her so playfully riled up at his antics. She looked so good in this green dress, with her wavy hair cascading down her arms and face, her blushing cheeks that makeup could never compare to, and her challenging eyes that were staring right into his.

It was an instant pull, like a magnet, that led him to immediately latch his lips onto hers. Inuyasha felt her body give a little jolt in surprise, but she quickly molded her lips right against his, the feeling of kissing him was too addicting. She fisted her dainty hands onto his leather jacket and latched on for support while her body turned into putty because all she could think about was kissing him back. One of his large hands lay firmly on the small of her back while the other was caressing her cheek.

If they had a choice they would do this forever with one another and never go back to reality again. But half-demon or not, they both needed to pull apart to get some air. Their chests heaved dramatically while they stared at each other, both of their faces the reddest they have ever been.

“Finally.” Miroku snorted, “I was wondering when you two were going to crack.”

Inuyasha’s eyes widened. “W-what?”

“You guys aren’t exactly the best at keeping secrets, you know.” Sango added.

“Yeah, especially when you guys look like you will jump each other at any second,” Miroku smirked, his eyes flicking back and forth from the couple in front of him.

Kagome huffed, “I figured this would happen.” She could not help but laugh. “Why didn’t you guys just say anything?”

“You placed bets, didn't you?” The half-demon glared. He, too, had his suspicions that their best friends had figured it out a while back, but for Kagome’s sake, he continued with their agreement on staying a secret until later on.

“‘Course we did, we wouldn’t be your best friends if we didn’t place bets.” Miroku’s violet eyes looked into Sango’s, and he smirked. “Also, we both liked to watch you two pretend like you weren’t into each other. It was fun.”

“Keh. Assholes.” Inuyasha scoffed.

“Never mind that,” Sango pulled Kagome in for a hug. “I’m so happy! This couldn't have gone more perfect!”

Kagome was in a fit of giggles all over again, and immediately she was pulled off from her best friend and into her boyfriend's arms.

“Well, guess we couldn’t keep it a secret after all.” The half-demon smirked.

A bright smile that Kagome could not hold back appeared on her face. “Nope, I guess not.”

They kissed each other again, and again, and again. By the time the group of friends all left the lounge, Inuyasha and Kagome looked spent, with swollen kissed lips and a drunken look in their eyes.

[mizunetzu]

Hi! ;> maybe a tenya x male reader where the male is about to dye his hair after a breakdown and tenya is trying his hardest to stop male because he L O V E S his boyfriend’s hair. Thank you stay safe.

I been waiting to post this on his birthday !! Happy birthday tenya iida!

——————

Iida x reader - Hair Dye

⚠️ warnings - none !!

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

Green or blue? That was the hardest decision.

(Y/n) was crouching down, hunched over two boxes labeled “hair dye.”

“Mm, or maybe I should go pink...” The boy haphazardly dropped the green box in his hand to reach for the pink box. You could barely notice the dry, red tear stains on his cheeks from how concerned he was on deciding on a color.

Eventually, he settled for two boxes of dark purple hair dye. Just in case he didn’t have enough in one box, he bought two. Because really, he wasn’t about to let Bakugous stupid egotistical taunts get to his head.

Did he have a breakdown because Bakugou wiped the floor with his ass in training and called him a fag? Yes. Was he going to be a boss ass bitch and dye his hair to say ‘fuck you’ to him? Yes.

(Y/n) clutched his connivence store bag of dye harder. He’d honestly think he’d gone too long without messing with his hair, partially because UA seemed like this grand, professional school that took no shit. But after settling down for a few months in the hero course, he quickly changed his mind. Though, his hair could probably thank him for letting it grow out in its natural (h/c) color for a while.

He reached the dorm entrance and snuck in quietly. He may have quickly brushed off his tears to go buy dye, but his face had not yet adjusted from crying his eyes out. His eyes were puffy and red, and he had that fresh ‘I cried like a baby back bitch’ glow.

He unlocked the door to his room when he heard the familiar robotic footsteps pounding towards his room.

“(L/n)-kun! I am glad to see you ba-“ Iida stopped in his tracks when his eyes settled on the bag (y/n) was draping over his shoulder. If the bag had been any bigger, and he were wearing a red shirt, he’d look a bit like Santa Claus.

“...what did you buy, (L/n).” The use of no honorific was slightly unhinging. Iida deadpanned as (y/n) smiled guiltily.

“Hair dye?”

“HAIR-“ Iida made a jumbled noise of protest, incoherently swinging his arms in the air like a madman. Honestly, (y/n) was waiting for him to take someone the fuck out with those hands.

“(L/N)-KUN, HAIR DYE CA-CAN SEVERELY...SEVERELY DAMAGE YOUR-might I say beautiful-HAIR AND DRY IT OUT! I-IT IS ALSO SEEN AS UNPROFESSIONAL TO HAVE HAIR OF AN OUTLANDISH COLO-“

“Iida, honey,” (y/n) led the stressed out boy into his dorm room, Iida absentmindedly walking in. “Your hairs fucking blue.”

Iida broke into a cold sweat. “I-I mean yes, but-“

“Minas hair is pink-no, SHES fucking PINK.”

Iida stuttered and his hands halted like a broken record. “But-“

“Todoroki has SPLIT HAIR COLORS ON EACH SIDE OF HIS HEA-“

“STOP IT! STOP! NO MORE!” Iida fell to the ground in defeat, covering his poor ears with his stiff hands. (Y/n) crouched triumphantly infront of the cowering boy, taking a piece of his blue hair and twirling it between his fingers.

It was nice to see this big piece of beef defeated, below you. It was a guilty pleasure sight (y/n) would never admit to.

“Aw...you can help me dye it if you wa-“

“I-I do not wish to take part on murdering your beautiful hair...”

(Y/n) opened his mouth to say something, but let it fall close in a smirk. “You think my hair is pwetty?”

“Darling, I think you’re gorgeous. Please don’t kill your hair with that...” Iida glared the bag of purple hair dye like it murdered his family. “...cheap hair poison...”

(Y/n) chuckled and sat himself down next to Iida. “Well not everyone’s as rich as you, mr Iida tenya. Plus, i’d look good with purple hair, no?”

Iida looked like he was going to explode. “You could put on a skimpy hot dog costume and I’d still think you look good-but wrecking your hairs natural oils and moisture is not something I would like to condone!”

The two were both sitting down on the floor of (y/n’s) poorly decorated dorm room, Iida fishing out the purple box of ‘poison’ from its bag.

“Dear god, whats in this stuff?!” Iida cringed as his eyes did a once-over on the cheaply printed ingredients on the side. “Ammonia? Diaminobenzene?! You’re better off just shaving you head!”

(Y/n) whipped his head up. A drop of sweat rolled down Iidas temple.

“I-that was not a suggestion, (L/n)! Don’t get any ideas!”

“But iidaaaaa!” (y/n) flopped his head onto Iidas lap, curling up into a ball on the ground. “I’m sad, doing stuff to my hair makes me happy again.”

(Y/n) sniffed dramatically and stared up at his boyfriend with puppy eyes. Iida stiffened and hesitantly brought a finger to the bridge of his nose. It was silent for a moment until Iida sighed.

“...will dying my hair satisfy your odd ways of cheering yourself up?”

——————

The next day, Iida strut up to 1-A with hot pink hair. Iida wanted to fucking die.

He refused to use the purple bottle of toxicity sitting in (y/n’s) room, so they went to a rather expensive store, to buy natural bleach and dye.

(Y/n) begged him to use pink once his eyes landed on the flamboyant pink box, while Iida was choosing between two bleach boxes. He also bought a box of dark blue hair dye, similar to his own hair, for after his boyfriend was satisfied with his hair.

“Iida, what the actual fuck! Ahaha!” Kirishima clutched his stomach in a fit of giggles as Kaminari pulled out his phone. “Who would’ve thought me class prez would dye his hair!?”

“I-stop using your cellphone in class, Kaminari! (L/n)-kun was feeling very down yesterday...so I allowed him to dye my hair! T-that’s it!”

Kaminari and Kirishima laughed even harder. “Dude, you look like a flamingo!”

“Yeah, yeah he does.” (Y/n) walked up behind Iida and buried his fingers in his hair. “I’m surprised his hair isn’t fuckin dead after the bleach and dye though. You should’ve seen him right after the bleach. He looked like a buff, polite Bakugo.”

“PLEASE DO NOT COMPARE ME TO OUR OTHER CLASSMATES, (L/N)-KUN! E-ESPECIALLY ONE THAT IS RATHER...UNSIGHTLY...!”

Bakugous ears perked up, before he laid his head back down on his desk. It was too early for that shit.

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

[itsthemysterykids]

...Those strories were fantastic!! Now: Sleeping Okay-Looking!!

Coraline: Once upon a time, there was an okay-looking girl… Screw it, she was gorgeous. Like insanely beautiful, I’m talking knock-out-

Wybie: Get on with it!

Coraline: Anyway, she lived with two guys and one girl in the woods, her gay brothers and single sister. Unbeknownst to her, that was a lie. Really, they were magical fairies tasked with protecting her until her sixteenth birthday because some jealous witch cursed her to electrocute herself with a cellphone when she turned sixteen, resulting in her death, but that got changed by the fairies, so she’d just fall asleep until someone she loved kissed her.

*Coraline is sweeping the living room floors*

Coraline: God, there is nothing like cleaning on your birthday.

Dipper: Coraline! Mabel needs you to pick some berries for a pie she’s making!

Coraline: You know, there should really be some child safety laws in these stories. This one boy? Little black riding hood? His mother sent him into the forest alone while there was a wolf and serial killer prowling around. Yeah, that happened. He could’ve died.

Dipper: Oh, you’ll be back before anything kills you.

Coraline: That doesn’t make me feel better! *Snatches a basket off the table* Fine! I’ll just go out into the dark forest! Alone! I’m a poor young girl who will probably get eaten by a wolf! Good day! *Slams the door shut on her way out*

Dipper: Okay, she’s gone! Wands out!

*Norman and Mabel make their way into the room carrying a white dress fitted onto a mannequin. Mabel hands Dipper his wand*

Dipper: God, it feels good to use these. Think she suspected anything?

Mabel: Not a thing. I still can’t believe we made it to her thirteenth birthday, I really thought we were going to blow this.

Norman: I know, right? A we did wonderfully raising her. Especially when I taught her her first word, ‘Poltergeist’.

Dipper: Yeah, but I taught her how to read.

Mabel: Well, I taught her that anything can and should be weaponized!

Norman: ... You did what?

Norman: We’ll come back to that, later. Let’s get to the dress *Using his wand, he casts a spell on the dress to make it red* Perfect.

Mabel: Red? Make it pink. *She casts a spell on the dress, making it pink* Better!

Dipper: I’m leaning more towards blue. *He turns the dress blue* And it goes with her hair.

Norman: …

Mabel: …

Dipper: …

*While Coraline is picking berries, she fails to notice the colorful explosion from a distance. As she was picking berries from another bush, she heard rustling from behind a tree*

Coraline: … Well, I guess this is how I die.

*The figure emerges, Prince Wybie of Dryl (She-Ra fans will understand*

Wybie: Sorry ‘bout that. Did I scare you?

Coraline: *Scoffs* Please. There’s plenty of things to be afraid of out here.

Wybie: Oh my God, yes! This one boy’s own mother sent him into the woods where he was almost killed!

Coraline: What’s wrong with adults?!

Wybie: Uh, everything! My grandma want me to marry some girl I barely know.

Coraline: Fuuuck.

Wybie: Yeah, and get this. She’s just someone my grandma set me up with as soon as she was born.

Coraline: Well that’s just not right! You need to get to know her, and she should get to know you. You can’t just get married when you don’t know a single thing about the other person!

Wybie: Yes! Thank you! I’m glad someone gets it! You are like the only normal person I know!

Coraline: Thank you!…

*Suddenly, and without hesitation, they kiss*

*Back at the cottage, the fairies are sitting on the couch, exhausted from fighting over a color when they finally settled on indigo*

Norman: Where is that girl? We have to take her back to the castle.

*Coraline enters the cottage, blushing madly*

Dipper: There you are! Where have you been?

Mabel: And why are your lips shiny?

Coraline: Well…

Norman: HICKEY!

Coraline: WE JUST KISSED!

Norman: Ha! There was no hickey! Who was it?! Who are they?! I want names!

Mabel: What’re we going to tell your mother?!

Coraline: Mother? But we’re orphans!

Dipper: … Coraline, it’s time you learned the truth... You’re actually a princess, and you’re already betrothed to a prince.

Norman: *Nudges Dipper’s arm* Way to say it gently.

Coraline: Wh… What?! So the three of you kidnapped me? And lied to me for thirteen years?!

Dipper: No! We didn’t kidnap you! And we were doing this to protect you!

Coraline: Well, I don’t want to marry some prince I don’t even know! I love someone else!

Norman: Alright, you’re grounded! Don’t come out until the carriage arrives to pick us up!

Coraline: I hate you all! *She runs upstairs to his room in a huff*

Mabel: Ugh! *She slouches on the couch* Teenagers.

*Sometime later at the Jones’ Castle, the staff decorate the throne room for Coraline’s birthday*

Raz: *To Mabel* So, how’s she taking the news?

Mabel: Not well. She won’t come out of his room. She’s just mad because she can’t date this boy he met in the woods.

Raz: Well, when she meets the prince, she’ll forget all about that guy. *Chuckles* It’s kinda funny.

Mabel: What is?

Raz: You didn’t hear? Okay, okay! Get this! He… *laughing* The prince fell in love with some girl in the woods! I bet the four of them were making out right next to each other and didn’t even know it! Ha!

Mabel: *She comes to a realization* You guys don’t think…

Norman: … Nah.

*Coraline’s room- She punches her pillow, wanting to be with Wybie and not go through with the marriage. She’s too upset to notice the green mist spread around her room*

Coraline…

*She looks around to see who said that*

Coraline: … Who the fuck his here?

Coraline…

Coraline: I can’t see you, idiot!

Oh, for the love of- COME TO THE TOWER!

Coraline: Better. *She heads out of her room and goes up to the tower. Once she’s inside, she finds a blue cell phone sitting on a pedestal, the only thing that stands out in the pitch-black room*

Call him, Coraline… Call him…

Coraline: Don’t gotta tell me twice!

Call him… And you’ll be together forever...

Coraline: Dude! I’m already sold!

*She grabs the phone, but as soon as her hand makes contact with it, she is electrocuted, fulfilling the curse, and falls to the floor. The green fog gathers and takes the form of Lili, who smirks as she stands over Coraline’s unconscious body*

Lili: YEAH! I WIN, PRINCESS! *Grabs the phone* Selfie time! *She takes a selfie of herself next to Coraline’s body* Ha! *She hits her staff against the floor and disappears into a puff of black smoke*

*The fairies barge into the room and find Coraline on the floor*

Norman: … We had one job.

*A while later, Coraline has been placed on her bed while her parents and the fairies watch over her*

Mabel: Your majesty, we are so sorry!

Mel: Don't blame yourselves… I mean, you had one job-

Dipper: We know! But- Here’s an idea. We could put you all in suspended animation. You would fall asleep, and wake up when Coraline does without aging a day.

Charlie: So, I’ll still be thirty after a hundred years?

Everyone: …

Charlie: Thirty-five…. Okay! Forty-six!

And so, the fairies go around the kingdom, casting their spell on everyone, even the animals so they’d fall asleep and not wake up until Coraline in a hundred years or until someone wakes her up with a kiss… Whichever comes first.

*The fairies wait outside the castle for the arrival of the prince so they could break the news to him*

Mabel: I hope he takes it well.

Dipper: Oh yeah, I’m sure he will. “Hey, your bride-to-be is asleep, and won’t wake up for a hundred years! By then, you’ll be dead.” Yeah, that’s a great conversation.

*A horse-drawn carriage makes its way to the castle. The prince steps out, revealing it to be Wybie*

Wybie: Alright. Where is she?

Norman: Well, good news! You can marry the girl you met in the forest!

Wybie: Sweet! What happened? She get food poisoning, the plague?

Dipper: The Princess is… Unable to perform her duties.

Wybie: What the hell does that mean?

Norman: Okay, I’m just gonna say it. The princess had a curse placed on her when she was a baby, she’d fall asleep for a hundred years if she touched a cell phone, and a kiss from someone she truly loved would wake her up.

Wybie: … So, I can marry Coraline?

Norman: What?… No! You can’t marry Coraline, she’s asleep! Did you not listen to me?

Wybie: I did. The Princess is asleep, so I can marry Coraline.

Mabel: No, Coraline’s asleep.

Wybie: Wait, Coraline? Brown eyes? Blue hair?

Mabel: Yeah, that’s the prince- Oooh!… So, you’re the guy she met in the woods. And we told her she- Oh my God! I feel pretty stupid right now.

Wybie: What the fuck is going on?!

Norman: Wybie, you have to save him! Coraline won’t wake up unless you kiss her!

Wybie: … Just to be clear, the Coraline we’re talking about is the one I made out with in the woods, right?

Norman: You… Yes! Now go save her!

Mabel: And hurry! Lili knows you’re here! *She points up to a black fog surrounding the castle. She summons her wand and conjures a sword and shield for Wybie* You’ll need these. Now go!

*Thick black vines block the castle entrance. Wybie cuts through them with the sword and enters the castle where he finds more black vines on the walls and wrapped around the sleeping castle staff who are lying on the floor, or leaning against the furniture. He makes his way into the throne room and finds Lili, sitting on the thorned throne, and using Raz, who is still asleep, as an ottoman*

Lili: Prince Wybie, what a pleasure.

Wybie: So you’re Lili. Honestly, I’m not that impressed.

Lili: What?!

Wybie: Yeah, you’re short, sound like a child. I-I expected better.

Lili: Oh really, now? *She stands up, and a circle of fire surrounds her and rises higher. The flames fade, and in Lili’s place is a black dragon with red horns, and glowing red eyes*

Wybie: … Me and my big mouth. *He puts up his shield as Lili breathes fire in his direction* Fuck this shit! *He runs through the halls of the castle, The dragon hot on his trail as he breathes fire, burning tapestries, curtains, and paintings*

Coraline: The prince attempts to escape the dragon’s wrath, but comes to an end. The dragon has him cornered. Seeing the dragon taking a breath, The prince puts up his shield to block the fire. He sees the sword in his holster glowing brightly and knows what he has to do. He draws his sword, aims, and throws it at the dragon’s chest. Blood pours out as she screeches in pain, and red flames surround her before she disappears, leaving only ashes.

Wybie: … What the hell is wrong with this story?!

*Wanting to get out of here, Wybie rushes to the tower where he finds Coraline after climbing a stairwell that seemed to go on forever. He makes his way to the bed, leans down and plants a kiss on Coraline’s lips before screaming when she suddenly wakes up and punches him in the face*

Wybie: OW! WHAT THE HELL?!

Coraline: YOU DON’T KISS UNCONSCIOUS PEOPLE!

Wybie: YOUR FARIES TOLD ME TO KISS YOU- OW! THAT HURTS!

*All over the kingdom, people wake up, and the vines disappear, letting everyone know that the Princess has woken up*

*Weeks later, Coraline and Wybie got married, happy that they didn’t marry total strangers, the kingdom got their phones, and everyone lived happily ever after*

[wordynerdygurl]

Seven Minutes in Heaven

Author’s Note:  Well hello my friends!  Since hitting 1000 Followers in July (WHAT?!  STILL UNBELIEVABLE!!!) I’ve been working on the requests sent in by my amazing troop of readers!  This is another one of those stories which I’m pleased to share.   As always, help my unending need for validation but re-blogging or liking the story!  Also, you can send asks, make your own request, follow me, or be added to my tag-list! Last, @sammy-jo1977 is my beta... and my ride or die home girl!  Thanks lady! Pairing:  Loki x Female Reader, appearances from most of the Avengers

Summary/ Request:  @queenofmischief asked for a story where “Loki and you guys are friends growing up and you realize you like him and try to hide it but somehow at a party or something or another, maybe Seven Minutes in Heaven is involved, it comes out and really hot smut ensues?”

I used some of the ideas you gave me, dear reader, but made it a little more mature, so I sincerely hope you enjoy!

Warnings:  Lots of 80′s references... music, movies, clothes, etc.  References of smut, heavy petting and kissing

ENJOY!

"But, like, I really don't want to go."  Your cellphone, pinned between your ear and shoulder, pushed your earring into the tender flesh behind your lobe.  It probably didn't help that the jewelry in question was a pair of huge hoops, fluorescent in color and hard plastic.

You heard Wanda sigh, "Yea… I know.  It's just, we all are… and you know it'll be worse if you don't show up."

"I really hate it."  Using a sing-song voice didn't change the feelings behind your words.  Going up to the main floor of The Avengers Tower for a theme party was not a thrilling idea.

"I know you do-", pulling open the door between your room and hers, you palmed your phone, frowning at your friend, "-But you look great!"

"Radical… or wicked… or tubular would be more 80's appropriate."  Still, her compliment made you smile.  It really was a great outfit, totally encapsulating the MTV generation's vibe, complete with hot lime colored leg warmers. 

 Your cropped REO Speedwagon t-shirt was cut off at the neck, dripping low enough to expose one whole shoulder, and a wide stripe of the magenta colored tank top underneath.  Having tucked the camisole into your acid washed denim micro miniskirt, you finished the ensemble with a pair of black pumps, and the obligatory scrunchie of cheap yellow satin.  It pulled your hair into a low, side ponytail.

For makeup you'd painted your eye-shadow on, bright turquoise with pink under your brows.  Lipstick in a shimmery rosy hue brought extra attention to your lips.  And you stored your cell phone, lip gloss and keys in your iridescent fanny pack.

Wanda couldn't help giggling at the sight of you and your collection of clashing colors.  For her look tonight she'd dawned a pair of skin tight leggings, an over-sized button down shirt with a stretchy black belt that was about four inches wide.  Ballet flats, teased out hair and stark makeup had Wanda looking like a video vixen.  It was impressive.

"See, you went sexy… and I went silly."  Pouting now, you flopped onto your bed, "Can I just not?"

Sitting down next to you, patting your knee, "You don’t look silly, but you do look like you could be a hair band groupie!  That’s sexy!” Shrugging your shoulders, unconvinced, Wanda added, “Besides, tonight… It may be fun.  And, worse case?  You get blitzed like a teenager on prom night."

"No… that's not the worst case.  Worst case?  He's there."

Sighing, Wanda shook her head, "He does still rub you the wrong way, huh?  And, yes, he may be there… but-" standing, taking you with her, "-it would be a shame to waste all your wicked cool work!"

Hearing her use the dated vernacular made you grin.  She was right.  Tonight could be a blast, if you were able to get out of your head.  Jumping off the bed, unsettling one of those fashionable leg warmers, you hugged your friend tightly.  You could do this.  You wouldn't be alone.  And if Loki was there, he'd just have to get over it.  You weren't going to pay him any attention.

---

"Mr. Loki… can we please go?  We're already stupid late."  

Bending to straighten his red suspenders, Loki smirked at himself, "Greed is good."

Sighing, exasperated and edging into anger, Peter pulled open the front door, "I don't know what that means, but you look… greasy."

"Like I could steal your company in a corporate take over?  Maybe steal your woman too", Loki questioned, excited at the idea.

Crossing his arms over the red puffy vest he had bought specifically for tonight, Peter grunted, "Uh… I… I guess.  I meant more like one of the assholes in Wolf of Wall Street."

God, you had better be there tonight.  Loki was putting a lot of hope on Stark’s little shindig and he wanted to make sure that all of the little details were absolutely perfect, giving him every advantage.  Standing now, slicking back his long dark hair, "That, my young spider friend, is exactly what I am going for… Evil 80′s CEO."

"Great."

Loki heard the frustration in the young man’s voice.  Someday he would understand, Loki thought, turning to the youthful Avenger beside him, "You certainly make a dashing Marty McFly, Peter.  Truly."

"Aw!  Really, Mr. Loki?  Ya mean it?"  That made the Spider Boy preen, popping his collar, and standing a little straighter.

"I do!  Now-" flashing a rakish smile to his reflection as he passed, "-let's get upstairs and see how everyone else is doing!"

---

Everyone else was ready to party.  The last mission, a particularly difficult one, involved Hydra agents banging it out against our heroes along the rough terrain of the polar ice cap.  Draining the physical and emotional resources of everyone, including you and Loki, Tony had planned a little party to kick off a period of rest and relaxation.

As soon as the elevator opened you knew it was going to be an insane night.  Everything was brightly lit.  Paper streamers were strung up haphazardly along the walls and ceiling.  Big plastic buckets of chips and cheese curls were put out on the counter along with a huge punch bowl that reeked of rum and sugary fruit juice.  On the floor in the kitchenette was a garbage can, freezing, full of ice, only the keg tap visible.  A stack of red plastic cups was at the ready.

Someone had ordered pizza.  Well, dozens of pizzas.  The boxes were piled along the table already crammed with pretzel bags and Doritos.  

Steve was being instructed on the basics of Beer Pong and, you decided, definitely being hustled by Sam.  Bucky looked on with curiosity, quietly sneaking closer to the chips and dip, hoping no one would notice.  Rhodey was watching them both through the reflective lenses of his aviator shades, doing a great job of looking like a Top Gun cadet, including the tight jeans and broken-in bomber jacket.  Grinning as he drank down a bottle of beer, Rhodes shouted, "Hey Stank!  Is all of this really necessary?"

"Don't come for me Rhodey!"  Wearing a pair of neon leopard spotted knit pants, a green polo shirt and white sneakers, Tony was clutching a glass bowl filled with little slips of paper to his chest.  No one had managed to figure out what they were or why he held them.  Drinking two beers from his plastic, can holding helmet, Tony would answer only with a slightly slurred, "It's my trashy 80′s party and I do what I want!"

And Tony had thought of everything.  Sounding like a mixed tape pulled from the radio, the tunes didn't let up!  Ratt, Foreigner, Cindi Lauper, Madonna and Tom Petty all took turns blasting through the room.  So many hits from the past pumped through the sound system, getting people on their feet and keeping them there.  You were swinging and swaying along, having a blast, but when Bon Jovi hit the group of Intergalactic Warriors went wild.

Clint, rocking a mullet wig and a vest with no shirt, jumped onto a table making the motions of an air guitar champion.  Singing into a beer bottle like it was his microphone, "Whoooooaaaa we're halfway there…"

Guffawing, you hid behind your Bud Light filled cup, already red cheeked from the non-stop laughing and alcohol in your system.  At some point you had given up Wanda to Vision in a varsity jacket, doing his best jerk-off jock impression, and not quite pulling it off.  It wasn't his fault that he was too polite to put people down in the way of Eighties movie bad guys. Alone, feeling flushed, but happy, you needed a break and some quiet.  Flinging yourself onto the soft sofa, watching the frat house style antics unfold all around, you couldn’t help laughing.  Tony always found a way to knock the group out of their post mission funk.  Sometimes that meant week long Caribbean vacations and sometimes that meant dressing up in retro attire and scream singing with a cold beer in your hands.  Either way, it seemed to bring everyone closer together, and the pictures were certainly worth framing. The couch dipped as someone joined you.  Swiveling, not quite drunk but not quite sober, you couldn’t help the groan that left you.  “Oh.  It’s you.”

Not exactly the response Loki wanted, he was just grateful that you spoke to him at all.  Lately you seemed to flee any room he entered, a hurt and heavy sigh escaping you before you'd make your exit, never looking back.  Loki couldn't understand why.

After all, it had been two months since that night.  The one where he'd stumbled on you, glowing blue in the light of the television set, alone and in the darkness.  You asked him to join you, he had accepted.

The movie was called "Say Anything" and Loki had to admit, as far as romance on film went, this story was very moving.  But that was an unexpected bonus to being so near to you.  Before the credits rolled, you had burrowed against him, snuggled under his arm with your head on his chest.  

Stroking your hair, Loki pressed a kiss to your forehead, thoughtlessly, naturally.  Pushing away, looking up at him through hooded lashes, "You… you kissed me?"

Words failed the silver tongued devil, something he still pondered all these weeks later, so a nod was all you got for a response.  Kneeling, your sleep shirt riding over your thighs, Loki watched your small hand rising to cup his cheek.  Feeling your lips against his own was the beginning of the best night of his life.

And then, nothing.  It was like a switch had been thrown and no matter how many ways he tried to reach out for you, Loki wasn't able to connect.  Not like that night.

So, he was going against his nature tonight.  Joining the group, drinking a bit of his brother's mead, wearing a dated but pristine business suit.  All done in the vain hope that something would shift in his favor.

He had already lost too many nights to memories of you.  Soft, full skin under his broad palms.  The tiny moan you exhaled when Loki’s tongue met your own.  How your wet, willing body accepted him, without question or stipulation.  And in the afterglow, when your head rested in the crook of his neck and your cherry cola scented breath circled him, you let Loki hold you close.

But he buried it all.  Tonight he was the embodiment of all things slick.  Nothing could stick to him; not when he had a goal in mind and this much gel in his hair.  Loki Odinson would be taking you home tonight, come hell or high water. Wolfish, Loki’s grin was wicked, “Yes.  Your dream has come true.”  Sitting back, he crossed his designer suit covered knee at the ankle, exposing socks with little golfers on them.  He let his right arm rest along the back of the sofa, not around you… not yet, but inching closer. “What is that cologne you’re wearing?” “Don’t you like it?  I’m told Drakkar Noir was quite the scent of the 80′s.  I did my research.” Twisting, you looked him over, impressed despite yourself.  The suit was totally of its time.  Black, pinstriped and you were sure the jacket that came with it was draped somewhere safe.  His shirt was shiny but soft and bright, blinding white.  Suspenders of red matched the tie that draped down the center of his chest. With his hair combed straight back and held in place with some kind of product, Loki looked like he was capable of eating a six course lunch at Sardi’s, complete with dirty martinis, then jetting back to the office in time to defraud a corporate spending account.  The kind of executive that blackmails a co-worker with pictures of a mistress.  The kind of douche bag that tries to take over a rec center to build a mall.  In short, an avarice little asshole.  So, why was it so hot? “It’s… overpowering.”, boy, was that an understatement.  Loki’s whole aesthetic was overpowering right now.  And, was he moving closer? His bent knee brushed against your own as he leaned near enough to be heard at a whisper, “You look adorable, you know that?” Scrunching into the corner of the couch, eyeing him suspiciously, “Oh?  Really?” “Really.”, his hand brushed over your exposed shoulder, making you jump at his touch.

Uh uh.  No way.  You would not be so easy to seduce this time around.  Even if those wide hands sent goosebumps growing all over your body, Loki would not charm his way into your panties again.  Not like last time.

It had been spontaneous.  Genuine, at least for you.  And in the moment, it felt like Loki had given you a little piece of himself, a tenderness that no one else ever saw in the far flung Frost Giant.  

Maybe that's why Clint's words hurt so much.  He had told you so casually, holding up a spoonful of Cheerios, "Loki said his last girl was a drag.  Basic bitch?  Is that what the kids say?"

Thinking about it now made your heart hurt.  You had given yourself to someone who thought you were beneath him.  Loki couldn't want you.  You would never be good enough.

But that night haunted you.  His soulful kisses that stole your breath.  The drag of Loki’s hands over the swell of your bottom as you straddled his hips.  His solid chest under your own hands, dark head curved against the couch cushion, but those burning eyes never leaving your face.  “I thought you said I was plain.  Simple.  Boring.”  

Leveling his own words back at him made Loki straighten in his seat.  How could you think that?  Unbalanced, stammering, “Uh… I… I’d never…” “Never expected me to find out?  I believe that.  And, let me tell you this-”  Pushing yourself up with the help of the couch’s arm, you rose on unsteady legs, “-I’m not nearly drunk enough to fall into your arms again.”  Spinning away, you made a dash towards the people in the kitchen, without looking back. Watching you go, Loki could do nothing but stare after your retreating form, flummoxed.

“That was… painful.”

He knew that voice well enough, frustrated, confused and unfit for company, “Go away, Tony.”

“I don’t think I will.  In fact-” sitting down in your empty spot, patting Loki’s knee, “-I’m going to make myself comfortable.  Now, tell Uncle Tony all about it.”

Rolling his eyes, unable to find you in the crowd, Loki risked a sideways glance at his replacement companion.  Was he really going to indulge in this?  Tell his almost friend about you… about your one night together?  Loki raked his hands through the pomade in his hair, growling low, “If you breathe a word of it Tony, I’ll-” Lowering his wrap around sunglasses, peering at Loki, Tony smiled, “Your secret is safe with me.” ---

Thinking less and less about Loki as the night went on should have been a relief but it seemed like the scent of him followed you everywhere.  Unable to get free of him, you busied yourself with drinks, dancing, and munching like you were a kid again.  Anything to keep your mind from wandering.

It's not like the party was boring.  Not at all!  There was plenty to distract you and you let it.  Natasha made you her partner for beer pong and somehow you successfully won against Rhodey and Sam.  

Next, Wanda needed you, which is how you wound up sitting on the bathroom sink listening to her go on about Vision in that wistful, loving way that made your own heart ache.  Being a little drunk, you had to fight the urge to cry because you were lonely and hurting. “I saw you talking to Loki… what was that about?”  She was reapplying ruby red lipstick, studying herself in the mirror, not looking directly at you.  

Wanda's voice cut through your self doubt spiral though, something you were thankful for, and with a casual tone you countered, “He was trying to get something started, I think.” Eyebrows lifting, Wanda’s interested piqued,  “Really?  Loki was hitting on you?” “Yea… I mean, I think so.  Was coming on awfully strong too.  But… he’s been a jerk, right?”  

Wanda cleaned up her eye make-up taking a minute, after washing her hands she looked at you, “I mean, he is here.” “So?” “So, you know he’s not really a joiner.  More of a lone wolf.  In fact, I think this may be the first of these little parties he’s come to.  Maybe he’s changed… grown a bit?  And, honestly, you never asked him about-”

Hopping off the counter, cutting her off, more than a little huffy at her good sense, “No, I didn’t and I don’t plan to.  Loki thinks I’m a bore?  Too basic for him?  Fine.  I have better things to do with my time.” Laying her hand on your shoulder, Wanda stopped you, eyeing you in the mirror once more, “I know his words hurt… but you’re going to have to clear the air eventually.  Especially if we’re all going to work together.”

Shrugging, you offered your friend a small smile.  There was truth in her sentiment, even if your slightly drunken brain rebelled against hearing it, “Yea, you're right… plus-” looking around the small washroom, just to make sure no one could hear the pair of you, “- he looks really hot tonight!”

Giggling, Wanda hugged you close, “I didn’t want to say anything, but… yea he does!” The pair of you were still laughing together, standing at the back of the crowd as Tony turned down the music, announcing, “Gather round children, Uncle Tony needs your attention!”  There were a few groans, mostly from the beer pong table, as apparently Bucky was unhappy about forfeiting his winning match.  Everyone else, in all their high haired glory, were congregating near their host, curious and more than a little drunk.

“Tony, what the hell, man?  You killed the tunes!”, Clint shouted, spilling Bud Light foam as he joined the tightening circle. “Patience, my drunk friend.  You all remember this?”  From the table nearby, Tony picked up his glass bowl, triumphant, “Our Destiny!”

Pepper, sighing with a smile, “So dramatic!” Shaking the bowl in her direction Tony smirked, “Ok smarty, then you pick first.  Go on… Pick!” There were oohs and ahhs from the assembled Avengers.  Rolling her eyes, Pepper reached in, grabbing the first slip her fingers found.  Pulling it free, she grinned, eyeing Tony, “It says ‘Loki’...” Hearing his name, Loki snapped his head up, surprise registering on his face, “Excuse me?” Holding it up for his examination, Pepper waved the slip under the regal nose of the junior Odinson, “See… your name.” “Yes, but why?”

Butting in, Tony snatched the scrap from the hand of his lovely fiance, practically dancing with glee.  Turning to Loki, “Now you, Gordon Gecko, pull a slip.” Aware of all eyes locked on him, Loki reached into the jar, digging around a little more than necessary.  Finally satisfied, the thin paper pinched between his fingers, Loki opened the folded note.  When his fierce gaze met yours, you knew without a doubt.  It was your name he had grabbed. Throwing a thick arm across Loki’s broad shoulders, Tony hugged him close, “Well?  What’s it say?” It all made sense in that moment.  The tacky costumes, flat beer and endless music.  A drunken moment of clarity had descended.  Tony, waving his arms, eating up the crowd’s reactions, heads turning to gauge your response.  Swallowing hard, your hearing failing you, you just faked a smile. You and Loki were going into the closet for Seven Minutes in Heaven. Only there was no way you were going to do that.  Not after what he’d said.  Not after your one night together, right?  But you felt a gentle hand pushing your forward, into the center of your circle of friends and for some reason, your feet followed.  

Refusing didn't enter your mind.  With everyone ogling you and Loki, making a scene would only cause more speculation, something you weren't keen to do.  Instead, you stepped next to Tony, outwardly eager to play along.  

You just shouldn't have dared to look at your proposed make out partner.  Laser focused, Loki’s lusty look hadn’t wavered.  No, the light in those thundering blue eyes was carnal, darker than you had ever seen, matching your own.  Against your better judgement, you wanted Loki, too.

Whatever Tony was saying was a blur, merely sounds, because you were utterly stunned by the nearness of Loki.  The roaring laughs of the rest of the group were drowned out by your pounding heart.  A door opened to a dim room, the pantry maybe?  You didn’t know and in that moment you didn’t really care. 

With a small smile, Loki ducked into the cupboard, lacing his fingers with yours, offering a bit of his strength.  Dragging you inside, your body pinned between a shelf of snacks and the hard body of your frenemy, a whimper of want passed your lips.  Loki still smelled so good and now he was so close.  “Have fun you two!”, Tony’s words were accompanied by the door shutting you and Loki inside, in the dark.  Surrounded by silence, Loki’s sharp pants were the only sound louder than your racing pulse, which was saying something. Afraid to move, afraid of spooking you, Loki struggled to search your stare in the low light.  He had already experienced your angry dismissal of his attention tonight.  It wasn't something he wanted to relive, not when you were so close with sweet and speedy breath, your chest brushing against his own at each exhale.

Lifting a hand, grazing over your uncovered shoulder, Loki's touch was electric.  You moved towards it, towards him, needing more of his energy.  Craving it.

Bold in the dark, you grabbed at Loki’s suspenders, tugging him closer.  Rising on your toes, covering some of the distance between your mouth and his, you pressed a hot kiss to those soft, pink lips.  Under your fluttering fingers Loki shivered, "Darling-"

"Shut up.  I… I don't care."

"But I never…"

"I told you.  I don't care.  Now kiss me like you mean it, because we only have about six more minutes!"

Not needing any more encouragement, Loki found the flare of your hips in the shadows, molding your curves to the rigid planes of his body.  Desperate, needy, you felt his tongue move against your own.  Want, plain and simple, led your own fingers to the collar of Loki’s starched shirt and the tangle of his raven hair. Fisting it, tugging against those luscious locks, you couldn’t seem to get close enough to the tall God sharing your cupboard.  Whining, his name on your lips, you drew Loki tight enough that the press of your breasts was edging towards pain.  Demanding, true to your word, with every pass of Loki’s magical mouth over your own the last few weeks were forgotten. Hungry for more, Loki roughly squeezed the flesh of your ass, grinding you against his wool blend covered crotch.  Stuttering, his arousal was so stiff, for a minute Loki worried about making a mess.  But that feeling was replaced with unbridled ecstasy when your lips found the tender skin below his ear.  

A nip, enough to make Loki hiss, was soon soothed by your sucking on the same spot.  Resting your butt on the nearest shelf, you didn’t have to stand on tip-toe to reach the soft, sweet sections of Loki where you longed to lavish attention.  He took advantage of your new position by sliding a free hand along the swell of your separated thighs.  “I just need to feel you, dove.  I need to know that you want me as much as I want you.”  It was a husky whisper, directly into your ear, and it sent an arc of icy fire to your core.  When his long fingers skimmed over the silky slick of your panties you moaned in unison, bucking into Loki’s touch, lost in the moment. Stepping between your legs, Loki took one of your hands into each of his own, pinning you wide open against the boxes of cereal and granola bars that lined the pantry walls.  Devouring you slowly, Loki kissed along the column of muscles at your throat, across the exposed line of your clavicle.  You could do little more than take his delicious torment as more and more of your sweat dappled skin was serviced by his silver tongue. “Yes… Loki…”, tumbling out of you, just like the night when you first came together, you crooned his name in delight.  Breathless, boneless and broken with need. CLICK!  The sound made you both freeze.  Snapping swiftly, Loki’s head swung towards the door where the bright light and noisy crowd of the party was intruding into your private pantry. “WHOA, WHOA, WHOA!  What do we have here?”  Swinging into the tight space, Tony’s shrewd look took in the scene in seconds, “What were you two doing in here?  It was a very quiet seven minutes!” Straightening to standing, Loki stood, blocking you from sight as you readjusted your clothes.  Smoothing down his tangled strands, sarcasm dripping, “Talking.  Very quietly.”  When he was sure you were decent, Loki offered you his hand, and blinking you stepped back into the wild and raucous party still in full swing.  Tony, flashing a knowing grin your way, nodded, “I hope you didn’t smush the chips!  We still need those!” Giggling, you locked onto Loki’s arm, letting him lead you towards the keg and away from the shouted questions of your friends.  You knew there was no mystery about what happened in those seven minutes.  Hair mused, makeup smudged, lips swollen and shirts twisted, the pair of you were walking neon signs for getting to third base.

Silently Loki poured you a beer, taking a small glass of Asgardian mead for himself, before raising his glass your way.  Returning his gesture, you downed the frothy ale fast, feeling a little parched after your spit swapping time in the hall closet.  Boring into you, his eyes followed each of your movements, searching for a sign of your feelings. Dropping your empty cup on the counter, you turned and jumped onto the marble ledge, feet dangling.  “Loki?” Placing his own glass down gently, Loki took his position between your bent knees, looking down at your darling face, “Yes?” “Did you say those things?  That I was… boring?  Basic?” Shaking his dark waves no, Loki bit into his bottom lip, “Never.  What I said was, my last girl, ages ago, was those things… but my new lady-” tracing along your jaw, tipping your chin his way, “-she is everything I could ever want.”

“Am I… am I your new lady, then?” With a fierce flicker of fire in his eyes, Loki nodded yes this time, “Absolutely.” Leaning into him, arms around his neck, you tugged him down to meet your waiting lips.  “Good.  Good to know.  Because I think I’m going to watch a movie tonight.” “Really?  I recall really enjoying the last one.” “Hmm… me too.”  Sliding off the counter, ducking under Loki’s long arms, you turned back to face him, “My room… say, an hour?”

Snapping his suspenders, smirking, “I’ll be there.”  Watching you skip away made Loki’s pulse pound in anticipation.  Pouring himself another glass of clear liquor, he chuckled, amazed at the change seven minutes had created.  

“You’re welcome.” “Ah!  Yes, many thanks Tony.”  

Leaning against the counter, Tony knocked into Loki’s shoulder, “You’re cute together, Rock of Ages, but don’t make me regret helping you tonight!  Treat her right.”

“Of course.  I... truly, thank you.”, sincerity seeped from Loki at the favor from Tony. “No worries!  No worries!”  Waving away any additional gratitude, Tony looked over the group of half cocked, and totally cocked heroes before him, “Of course the real bitch was getting Pepper to pull your name from the bowl…”

My Marvelous Minxes tag-list:  @queenofmischief @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @iamverity @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @wolfsmom1 @procrastinatinglikeabitch @mizfit2 @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @jessiejunebug @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @thenatalie @sammy-jo1977 @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @is-it-madness @jenjen8675309 @alexakeyloveloki @poetic-fiasco​

[starlocked01]

And at Last I See the Light

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary:  This is the story of how I died. I have been told it's a story worth telling, but I fail to see how anyone benefits from my death. Luckily, this story is not about me, but rather the most remarkable man I ever had the distinction of meeting. Content Warning: Major Character Death, Cussing, Kissing, Crying, Panic and Anxiety

Day 21 Analogical- (Combined AUs)  You see the world in black and white until you first touch your soulmate, Everyone is born with a gift or power that is nullified in the immediate presence of your soulmate, You have until midnight of your 26th birthday to find and identify your soulmate or else you both die.

This is the story of how I died. I have been told it's a story worth telling, but I fail to see how anyone benefits from my death. Luckily, this story is not about me, but rather the most remarkable man I ever had the distinction of meeting.

I should explain. This man was my soulmate in life and his gift was one of renewal. Flowers drooping in a vase would spring up at his touch. People nearing death found their ailments eased a while longer so they could say goodbyes. Wounds healed quicker for him and the weary found new strength at his encouragement. It was a gift that brought more beauty to the world; one I failed to appreciate.

Perhaps you will not repeat my mistakes.

Virgil yawned and stretched awake. The bright grey of the morning dawn made him squint in annoyance as he rolled out of bed and thudded to the floor. He could dream in color and frankly preferred dreams to the living world.

Today especially Virgil would have preferred to roll over back asleep. Today marked the beginning of the end as most people saw it.

Virgil had one year left to find his soulmate or they both would die.

That was of course unless his soulmate was older and had less than a year of their own. Frankly, Virgil thought the universe had a rather twisted sense of humor. It withheld color and life from those who most needed a reason to push forward each day. And gave them a freaking time limit to fall in line.

Soulmates were bullshit.

He'd already been touched by every kid at school and from the surrounding districts. Normally, when kids graduated high school and hadn't found their soulmates, they'd go to college to find a wider selection of people their age to try and match with, but Virgil had decided against college. He'd been called crazy but frankly, he didn't much care.

Virgil shrugged on what appeared to him as a black hoodie with drab grey patches and ran his fingers through his hair. His bangs fell right back in his face as he headed down the stairs. He brushed his hand through the vase of flowers his grandmother constantly forgot to water and watched as petals and leaves in various shades of grey perked up, ready for another day of neglect.

For his birthday, the atmosphere in the kitchen sure felt like his funeral.

"Good morning, Nana," Virgil murmured, grabbing the box of cereal from the table and reaching in to grab a handful.

"Get out," she spat at him, "either find your soulmate or die in obscurity so I can pretend you found a lovely woman and settled down in the country."

"Love you too, Nana," Virgil sighed and grabbed his messenger bag.

"Why are you the only one who doesn't want to be happy?" she asked, voice choked with sadness.

"I don't need a soulmate to be a complete person. If I find someone I find someone. If not, oh well. I've had friends and family I was happy with and soulmates tore them away from me. It's a broken system and if I die being myself, I'll come to haunt you until you join me in the afterlife," Virgil smiled softly and kissed her on the cheek.

She laughed dryly, "you don't scare me, little verbena. Please, try to find them. I love you." Virgil saluted as he left the apartment for work.

The great thing about working in the library was the quiet shuffle of people reverently browsing through the shelves piled high with more words than they could possibly read. Virgil enjoyed the calm and helping people find what books they were looking for. Except when the only fact they knew about the book was the color of the cover. When those people asked he would flash his grey eyes at them and smile sweetly before saying they all looked the same to him. Most people would act horrified and apologize profusely. Some would get angry and demand assistance he couldn't provide. Roman usually stepped in at that point, and despite having met Janus a year ago, rarely was able to locate books by color. At the very least he always offered Virgil sympathy when the guest walked away.

"You just have to go where the young people are, Virgil. They come to the city looking for soulmates, you need to spend more time with people your age. I'm sure your soulmate is out there looking for you!" Roman grinned, "Jan and I go to this great bar-"

"Let me stop you there, Princey," Virgil chuckled, "I don't do bars or crowds. Even going with you two sounds like a nightmare. I'm not going to subject myself to that for what? Some strangers to touch me and change the whole world to color? Lame," Virgil rolled his eyes. They had this conversation once a week.

"Um, excuse me. I need assistance logging on to your computer system. If I need to register for a card to do so I would like the forms to start that process," Virgil swiveled in his seat towards the man's voice and lost his own.

He looked like a man out of an old black and white film, (to Virgil every film was black and white, but Nana insisted there was a difference when pictures changed to color) his hair was slicked back and face was punctuated by thin black glasses frames that accentuated the stranger's cheeks and nose. His silhouette was sleekly defined in a black polo and grey jeans, with a slightly more saturated grey tie. Virgil felt as though the man's presence had taken his breath away.

"Can you help me?" the man cleared his throat and Virgil snapped back to present.

"Sorry, of course, sir. Do you have a form of identification to apply for a library card? The card is required to access the computers, unfortunately," Virgil rattled off the spiel from memory while pulling out the form and a new card. The stranger handed him his driver's license.

The first thing he noticed was that it was an out of state ID. The second was the birthdate, just a month before his. The third was the man's name.

"Thank you, Logan. If you would just fill out this form, I just need to make a copy for our records."

"Certainly, thank you- what's your name?"

"His name is Virgil and he's single," Roman slid in with a wink at Logan. Virgil quickly turned and walked to the photocopier, heat rising in his cheeks. He could just hear the man's reply.

"Thanks? I don't really do relationships. Do you have a pen?"

Virgil took several deep breaths. He'd had crushes like this before. It would go away as he learned more about this Logan. He grabbed the copy paper and the ID and returned to the front desk.

"Here's your ID back," he traded Logan the ID for the paperwork and scanned through it quickly, "looks like you forgot to put down a phone number, what was that?" Virgil realized a second too late how that would sound to literally anyone as Roman snickered at him, but there was a blank space on the form.

Logan looked incredibly confused, "no, that's- I couldn't have forgotten. The number is- wait," he pulled a cellphone out of his back and read the number off to Virgil who jotted it down in the correct space.

"You're looking kinda pale there, Logan, do you need to sit down?" Roman looked concerned and even Virgil could see what he was talking about.

Logan shook his head, "I never- ever- forget anything. Ever."

"There's a first time for everything, I guess," Virgil shrugged and slid the library card across the desk.

"You don't understand, my gift is perfect recall. A permanent eidetic memory. I don't forget. I should know my own phone number like I know the digits of pi."

"Nerd!" Roman coughed to hide his laughing and both Logan and Virgil glared at him.

"That is pretty strange.. I hope it gets fixed for you soon? Anyway, you're all set, Logan. Let me know if you need anything else," Virgil smiled.

"Thank you-" Logan snapped his fingers a few times before giving up trying to remember, head hung in defeat.

"Virgil," Virgil supplied softly.

"Thank you, Virgil. It was nice meeting you two," Logan walked away from the desk and straight toward the nearest open monitor.

"You better ask him out or I'm breaking up with Janus for a chance at that," Roman said in a low voice to Virgil.

"No, you won't. He's out of both of our leagues anyway," Virgil smirked at his coworker's offended gasp and returned to checking in returned books.

"His tie was blue, by the way," Roman winked and turned to find another patron who needed help.

Logan came back to the library every day except the holidays for the next few weeks and always made a point of asking Virgil when he had questions or needed help. Roman insisted it was mutual pining but Virgil held fast to the comment that Logan doesn't do relationships. Unless he heard otherwise from Logan himself, Virgil refused to imagine a relationship was possible.

He was completely blindsided when Logan asked if he would like to hang out after his shift.

"I'm sorry, come again?"

"I would like to spend time with you when you are not otherwise preoccupied with your duties. Is that not acceptable?" Logan was always so direct. Virgil felt his heart flutter just a bit, nowhere near as intense as it had the day they met.

"I mean yeah that would be cool," Virgil smirked.

"So do you do bars or-?" Logan looked put off even making the suggestion.

"I know a cafe that has decent decaf; if you'd like we can walk there from here. I'm off at 6," Virgil watched as Logan nodded decisively.

"Excellent, I look forward to it," Logan grinned and Virgil found himself grinning back.

Roman slowly inched closer in his rolling chair, eyes wide with excitement and jaw dropped in disbelief, "Virge, do you have a date after work?"

"No! We're just hanging out," Virgil turned to ignore Roman.

"'Hanging Out' is code for a date. Maybe he's your soulmate! Brush his hand or something and find out!" Roman was bouncing in his chair now.

"No! That's so rude! Did you do that to Janus? Don't answer that- I bet you did," Virgil rolled his eyes, "it's not a date to the extent of my knowledge."

"Oh my god, you're mirroring him. You like him so much! Virgil, this could be it!" Virgil glared at Roman and shushed him in true librarian fashion before standing to grab the cart and collect used books from the tables.

Virgil picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder as he turned to leave but was surprised to see Logan waiting for him by the door. He had been certain Logan would have either forgotten or changed his mind and left by now.

Roman gave Virgil a huge cheesy grin and a thumbs up, "good luck on your date!" his whisper could probably have been heard in Russia.

Virgil felt the heat rising in his cheeks and shrugged his hoodie on tighter over his shoulders, waving off Roman and walking over to join Logan by the door.

"Hey," he said awkwardly.

"Are you ready? If you need more time-" Logan started.

"I'm fine. Let's get out of here before Roman starts taking pictures," Virgil turned to leave, taking purposeful steps to the door and flipping Roman off behind his back. Logan followed briskly. Virgil led him to his favorite coffee shop, quiet on the walk there.

The question was burning in his mind though. Was this supposed to be a romantic date? Or worse a soulmate test. Virgil had gathered that Logan was rather frank, but he really didn't know the man at all.

Both of them reached to grab the door to the shop at the same time. Virgil snapped his hand back.

"Please, allow me," Logan opened the door and ushered Virgil inside. Virgil wanted to shrink until he was invisible. He tried a quick controlled breathing exercise to calm his nerves. They each ordered and Logan excused himself.

"Virgil! Come help me out over here!" the owner, Mr. Dolenz, looked rather put out by a droopy speckled grey potted fern by the front door.

"Oh no, not Tabitha," Virgil walked over, surveying the damage to the plant. Each leaf he fingered grew stronger and healthier until the whole fern was practically an inch taller. Virgil smiled as Mr. Dolenz thanked him profusely, "maybe keep an eye out to make sure people aren't dumping drinks on her. That could really mess with the soil pH."

"You're a miracle worker! You and your boyfriend's drinks are on me," the owner clasped Virgil hard on the back. He couldn't respond before the man was already bustling back towards the kitchen. Virgil turned to see that Logan had apparently returned in time to hear just enough. It was difficult to tell, but Virgil thought Logan might be blushing.

"What was that about?" Logan cleared his throat and straightened his tie.

"Oh, people like to dump drinks they're done with on the plants and it kills them. So I just use my gift to restore the plants before they're dead for Mr. Dolenz. I think he made a few too many assumptions tonight," Virgil scratched the back of his neck.

"Oh, what is your gift?" the look on Logan’s face was fascinated with Virgil’s claim.

The barista called their names and they collected the drinks before selecting a table by the windows in the corner, "I can renew things. Makes sense that I'm a librarian," Virgil laughed dryly at the tired joke, "basically I can bring a little bit of life back before it's gone. Can't really raise the dead though," he took a sip of his decaf mocha.

"That must be at least fairly useful. Is there a reason you didn't go into a medical profession?" Logan sipped his iced black coffee, looking intently at Virgil.

Virgil couldn’t take the internal tension in his mind any longer and blurted out, "is this a date? Are you trying to figure out if I'm your soulmate?" his eye went wide and he bit his tongue.

"No, did I give off that impression? I didn't want to seem too cold but-" Logan looked crestfallen.

Virgil smacked the side of his head and cursed Roman for planting the thought in his mind, "Logan, I'm sorry. You didn't- Roman- I- ah… I'm sorry. I'm just so used to everyone trying to force me into romantic scenarios that I did it to you when I knew that's not what this was- I'm so sorry. I made it awkward and now I'm rambling and you're probably just going to stand and leave-" Virgil felt a tear slip down his cheek as Logan cleared his throat.

"Actually, I understand what you mean. I too haven't found my soulmate, nor am I interested in finding them," Logan took a long sip of coffee, "I've accepted this is my last year alive. I actually moved to the city because my family wouldn't stop trying to force me into relationships as well."

"Really? Wow, that's… it's so messed up!" Virgil was worked up now and Logan was going to get the rant whether he wanted it or not, "why cut short someone's life just because they haven't found one person out of billions on the planet? And yet somehow for 99% of the population, it works! But where does that leave people like us? Discarded by the universe. It's asinine," Virgil huffed and Logan listened calmly until he was done.

"I agree," came Logan’s simple reply.

"You do?"

"I do. It's asinine. But it's how life works. Life is an ass," Virgil tried to hold back a laugh.

They talked about everything until the cafe closed. Logan talked about his research and writing and Virgil listened in wonder. Virgil talked about his interest in flowers and their symbolism while Logan nodded along. Virgil learned about Logan's previous job as an Astronomer and Logan listened to Virgil's rants about library patrons. They were joking and laughing for the whole walk back to the library. They agreed to go out for coffee at least once a week and it quickly became Virgil’s most anticipated evening each week.

Roman teased him to no end, but Virgil was comfortable in his growing friendship with Logan. His initial crush had faded into nonexistence and he simply enjoyed the man's company.

The months flew by and soon it was fall again. Virgil was so busy with the library's Halloween decorations that he almost didn't notice that Logan had not come in all day. He tried to shrug it off but the voice in the back of his head told him he needed to worry about this or he'd probably never hear from Logan again.

When Logan was nowhere to be seen the next day, Virgil texted him, asking if everything was okay. The response was sobering.

L- I apologize. I've been feeling too weak to get out of bed for the past few days. I hope you find your soulmate before your birthday, Virgil. Dying is less peaceful than I had calculated.

Virgil stared at the screen, scanning the words over and over. He could feel panic screaming in his chest, trying to drown out the world. There had to be something- he texted back.

V- can I come over? Maybe my gift will make it easier for you?

The reply was nearly immediate.

L- There is no need. I will rest today and be back to my research tomorrow. This book has a rather final deadline.

L- No pun intended.

Virgil couldn’t focus for the rest of the shift or the rest of the night. Worry for his friend gnawed at his stomach and kept him up late into the night.

True to his word, Logan arrived at the library at his usual time the next day. Virgil felt overwhelmed with relief that was quickly replaced with deep dread. Logan looked terrible. He had dark bags under his eyes and gaunt hollow cheeks. He carried himself as tall as he always had, but there was a new looseness to his movements.

Logan smiled as he approached Virgil’s station at the front desk, "I'm sorry I worried you, Virgil. Are we still on for tonight?"

Virgil nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Great, thank you," Logan turned toward his usual workspace. Virgil kept an eye on him all day. If he was honest with himself, he was scared. It was like seeing his own future, but instead of watching himself dying, he was watching the man he'd come to consider his best friend waste away.

At 6 Virgil signed out and waited for Logan to make his way to the door. He suggested he drive them over to the cafe and Logan readily agreed.

Virgil held open the door and insisted on picking up the tab. Logan wouldn't let him help physically but he would do everything he could for this man.

They sat quietly at their corner table. Virgil’s mouth was dry but he couldn’t bring himself to drink.

"Virgil?" his head snapped up hearing his name, "I have a bit of a surprise confession to make," Logan fiddled with his cup, not making eye contact, "I recently discovered that I am demiromantic. I had assumed I was aromantic but it seems I have developed feelings for you," Logan's laugh sounded hollow, "that must be pretty frightening coming from a walking corpse."

"Logan, when we first met, I had a huge crush on you. And I'm so glad we've gotten to know each other this year. I- don't have those feelings anymore, but I'm flattered, knowing you," Virgil hoped honesty would be the best policy.

Logan nodded, deep in thought, "that's fair. I'm sorry for imposing on you."

"No! No no no. You haven't. I- I understand- one-sided feelings hurt and you look like you're in so much pain. I'm not upset or weirded out. You're my best friend, Logan, and I love you platonically."

"I have less than a month until my birthday," Logan groaned softly, clutching his stomach, "I probably won't be coming in much anymore."

Virgil nodded, understanding, "can I try to use my gift on you?"

"No. I knew this was going to happen. There's no sense hiding from it now," Logan smiled weakly.

"Can I at least visit you after work? I don't want you to be alone," Virgil could sense Logan wanted to make this a goodbye but he wasn't ready to let go yet. He felt desperate to be there for Logan every minute he could afford.

Logan could see the panic in his eyes and nodded. He didn't want to be alone either.

Virgil showed up every night after work. He cooked and cleaned and did anything he could for Logan in the time they had. After Halloween, Virgil started to feel the effects of the deterioration himself, but he pushed the pain down to focus on being there with Logan.

The night before Logan’s birthday was quiet. Logan laid in his bed and Virgil sat in a chair beside him. The clock ticked audibly, much louder than it should have been. Virgil picked up the nearest book and began reading aloud. Logan visibly relaxed. After a while, Virgil turned to face Logan and whispered words of encouragement and strength. Logan wouldn't let him try anything else but it usually helped people who were tired. Nothing changed.

Logan started crying. It was barely noticeable at first (Virgil noticed) but grew in fear and pain.

"Logan, I'm here. You're not going to be alone. I promise," Virgil wanted to grab his hand, to physically comfort him in some way, but when he tried Logan pulled his hand away from Virgil's reach.

"Virgil, I love you. If I had a soulmate I would have wanted him to be you," Logan's voice was a rasp, paper-thin.

"Just, wait for me in the afterlife, I won't be long," Virgil tried to laugh but he sounded hollow.

The clock ticked louder, midnight was minutes away. Virgil wiped the tears from his cheeks and tried to smile for Logan, pulling every fiber of his being into being strong.

"Maybe it was you and I've been running from the truth," Logan reached out his hand and the clock struck midnight just before he touched Virgil’s cheek, "I think it was, but that doesn't matter anymore. I lov-" the light in his eyes extinguished like a candle finishing a wick. Logan’s body fell back to the bed and Virgil shattered.

Logan was gone. And Virgil knew that his dying breath was right. They were soulmates but it was too late.

Virgil collapsed on the bed, sobbing and holding Logan close. He was so light at the end, almost incorporeal to the touch. Virgil cried over all the pain he could have prevented, the sleepless nights dreading this one, for the friend he'd never talk to again. Logan was the only one who had ever understood, who had accepted his choices, who had believed in him when everyone else pitied him. And he was gone.

He was gone.

As if possessed, Virgil kissed his soulmate’s body on the lips and then leaned to whisper in his deaf ear, "I love you too, Logan. I love you too. You were my soulmate. I'm coming," with that he collapsed in a fresh batch of tears, crying until he was exhausted and his face was contorted and purple from the exertion.

Virgil opened his eyes. Blue. Blue eyes stared back at him from the face he'd often dreamed of in color like this. This had to be a dream. A dream of lovely blue confused eyes and disheveled brown hair. The room hadn't changed except it was morning and everything looked just like a dream. Because it had to be a dream if Logan was looking back at him with deep brilliant blue eyes filled with more questions than answers.

"Virgil?" Logan's voice croaked. Why couldn’t he dream of his soulmate how he wanted to remember him? "Virgil, what happened? What day is it?"

"It's a dream, it can be whatever day we want it to be," Virgil replied, his throat raw and voice cracking as if he'd been crying. This was rather on the nose realistic for a dream.

"Check a phone, Virgil, this isn't a dream," Logan pleaded.

"I wish it wasn't a dream. I don't want to wake up and find you cold," Virgil sighed. Kinda a stupid dream if it wasn't going to be a happy one.

Logan reached over and pinched Virgil hard on the arm. With a yelp, he jerked back and fell out of the bed. Most dreams would have ended there but as he stood, Virgil could see those blue eyes focused on him. He sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was on low battery but he could still read the date.

"It's November 3rd," Virgil read of the screen just before it went black.

"My birthday. I shouldn't be alive… why am I alive?"

"You can't be, that's why this is a dream?" Virgil wasn't so sure of himself anymore. Nothing in the room had changed from the night before but everything was bright and colored like his dreams.

Virgil smacked the side of his head with his palm. It hurt and Logan jumped at the sound. Dream Logan would have expected the sound.

"What was that for? Are you okay?" Logan looked alarmed. He tried to sit up in the bed. Virgil walked over and offered him a hand up. After glancing around the room, Logan accepted his hand and pulled himself up with Virgil’s help.

"So…" Virgil started.

"So," Logan answered.

"This isn't a dream."

"Not likely."

"The world is in color?"

"Yes. Your hoodie is purple and black, nothing like how I dreamed of it."

"Your eyes are blue."

"My dad always said they were. Yours are brown."

"Yeah, Nana always said she loved my eyes and hoped I'd see them someday."

"Why am I alive?"

Virgil shrugged, "miracle?"

After a long back and forth, Virgil and Logan came to the conclusion that Logan had indeed died that night but somehow had been brought back.

Virgil described how he'd tried to use his gift on Logan before midnight, how he'd broken down and cried over his soulmate for most of the night. Virgil vaguely remembered the kiss and whispered confession.

"That's it, your gift worked on me because I was dead. I wasn't spiritually present so you were physically able to bring me back and the soul followed," Logan's eyes were aflame with the complexity of the situation.

"Promise this isn't a dream?" Virgil sat on the edge of the bed and reached for Logan’s hand.

"I promise," Logan took his hand. It felt warm and good and solid and real.

Because it was real. Logan was real. He was here. To stay.

This is the story of how I died. Thank the stars I didn't stay dead.

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

[prismatales]

Darling, you send me

Word Count: 1.6k

Bingo slot: Pick up lines

Pairings: (Separately) Mirio Togata, Tamaki Amajiki and Shinsou Hitoshi X Reader

Tag/Warnings: Fluff, Cooking shenanigans

Synopsis: The guys walk in on their crush cooking and being an absolute 50's cutie!

Heres entry #4 of @bnhabookclub bingo event! Thank you @hawks-senseis and @wakaoujisenhime for helping me out with these headcanons! 

General:

Everyone in the dorm was either sleeping in, taking advantage of the weekend or had already left to do whatever they had pending. 

Training at the school’s gym, studying at the library, just having a walk outside, going shopping, you name it. 

Either way. It was the first time in a while that you finally had some free time. All of your homework was on track, no training with the teachers or any upcoming exams that needed you pulling an all-nighter.

You sighed happily a the thought of being able to relax for once. And what a better way to to enjoy it, than to use the spare time to play around with the beloved bird nest over your head, also know as your hair. 

Quickly you got up from the chair and went to the small bathroom inside the room to pick everything needed. The bluetooth speaker connected to the cellphone played some of your favorite tunes in the background while. 

Inside the small room, you could swear this hair had a life of its own, because no matter how many attempts were done to tame the beast, it would always find a way to become an absolute mess.

But finally, after a tedious battle against this fierce, rebel mane. You finally came out victorious and looking stunning! For once it wasn’t pulled into something that just helped keep it out of your face during training.

And hey, since we’re already on it, why not go all the way? 

Quickly you made a run for your cosmetic bag and began applying a fair amount of makeup, fine traces of eyeliner adorned your eyelids, accompanied by a subtle layer of mascara, lastly a pretty yet subtle shade of lipstick that complimented your skin just perfectly.

For the final touch, you pulled some clothes saved for special occasions, because hey, this was a special occasion after all, right?

There was this stunning 50’s themed black dress covered in white polka dots that’s been sitting in your closet for weeks now, the idea was to use it for a date, but since you were in the mood to look cute that thought flew out the window.

Once you got changed and looked in the mirror, the results was divine. It was almost like someone had used a time traveling quirk and sent you back into the 50’s.

Squealing happily by the final result, you couldn’t help doing a happy dance in excitement and began taking pictures of your work to put them on twitter. 

But then you saw the time at the corner of the small screen on the device, shrieking in surprise at the realisation of how late it was already. It was almost time for lunch and today was your turn to cook.

Fortunately there was still plenty of time to prepare the food. Grabbing the speaker sitting at the top of a shelf, you made way into the kitchen and grabbed the apron before getting started on today’s lunch.

As the ingredients were pulled out of the fridge to be prepared, the sounds of the knife making contact with the cutting board, oil sizzling because of the heat and the music from your playlist were combined into a captivating melody altogether. 

Add the view as the sunlight peeked through the window, giving the kitchen quite a scenario worthy of being captured in a picture. If instead of the high tech appliances scattered around, some of those old appliances were in their place, and the floor titles had that characteristic black and white checkered pattern, it almost would be like a scene out of those old movies your grandmother used to enjoy so much.

In fact, it was her love for those movies and everything revolving around the 50’s that you became enamoured by its aesthetic as well.

As you danced along to the soft beat of the music, one of your favorite songs began playing through the small speaker and being unable to resist the urge, slowly you began dancing quietly to the rhythm.

Totally unaware of the guy standing at the kitchen’s entrance, who was pulled in by the mouth watering smell of your cooking and ended up staying in place, completely mesmerized as the watched the little show in front of him.

Mirio Togata

Song: Cheek to Cheek by Ella Fitzgerald

By this point, everyone and I mean EVERYONE knew about Mirio’s crush on you. The guy wasn’t even subtle about his feelings to begin with, but it was only a matter of him confessing.

He was just coming back after taking a small walk and the reminder that today his crush would be in charge of cooking excited the blond at the reminder of just how yummy your cooking was.

Mirio was already expecting the delicious smell of veggies and spices mixed together in a saute and he made his way into the kitchen to see if you needed any help. 

But the sight before him left him speechless. There was a literal goddess before his eyes and he couldn’t help approaching you before blurting out a pick up line.

“Pardon me miss, but I couldn’t help noticing that you have beautiful hair.”

“Why thank you sir~” You played along with the smiling blond, giggling at his antics and his stories. 

Like that one time he was jogging and got so distracted that his quirk activated on accident, leaving him pantless in the middle of the park. 

The two of you were so distracted talking and laughing your hearts out while sharing silly stories from childhood, until a burnt smell filled your noses.

“Is something burning?”

“If there is, it’s probably ‘cause you’re so hot, that’s why.”

“Mirio, you--Wait! THE FOOD!”

Needless to say, you had to start all over again after burning the stir fry. But hey, at least this time there was someone helping out.

Tamaki Amajiki

Song playing: You send me by Sam Cooke

Tamaki had finished studying by the time he came downstairs and was pulled into the kitchen by the smell of Takoyaki, it was honestly surprising to think someone was preparing them for lunch, but he wasn’t complaining at all if the yummy smell wasn’t a clue of just how good it they had to be.

Taking a peek into the kitchen he did not expect to find you slaving over the griddle, making sure not a single ball of dough got burned.

All while singing that sweet song under your breath and quickly flipping the Takoyaki in the griddle, watching their rich golden color with satisfaction and a smile in your face.

Coincidently, you turned around right at the same time he spoke. How in the world did he get the courage to blurt out his thoughts about you? He wasn’t sure, but it took a lot for Mirio and Nejire to encourage him to try flirting with you for once.

“I-I didn’t mean to be f-forward but your hairstyle looks b-b-beautiful on you…!”

You actually blinked repeatedly, not believing what you just heard. Tamaki Amajiki, THE TAMAKI AMAJIKI FROM THE BIG THREE himself was giving you a compliment. The same guy that would freeze whenever you greeted him in the mornings, the same guys who turned as red as a beet the last time you were both paired up together for a school project.

“That’s pretty nice of you Amajiki!” For once rather than having a nervous fit, that smile made him feel at ease. 

Even more when you pulled a piece of Takoyaki in front of him.

“Say, since you’re pretty much an expert on takoyaki...Wanna give these a taste?”

This time he did go red faced. The girl he had a crush on? hand feeding him? Did he die and go to heaven???

Gulping silently he nodded, leaning forward and taking a bite of the treat. Eyes lit up in amazement the moment he fully savored the meal.

“What do you think?”

“...It’s perfect, just like you.” 

It was your turn to get flustered.

Shinsou Hitoshi

Song: All I have to do is dream by The Everly Brothers

Out of these three, Shinsou’s the closest to his crush, considering you’re always hanging out together, of course it was nice being friends...but frankly, he wanted to be more than just friends with you.

He came into the dorms exhausted, sweaty and famished. Training with Aizawa was usually so intense that by the time they’re done all he wanted to do was raid the fridge and rest for 72 hours.

All he came for was some nice, cold water and ended up witnessing a small show as he watched you give a small twirl in the kitchen with your hair and dress flowing gracefully around you.

That’s when you realized your dear friend -and maybe more- had been watching the little choreography.

Seeing him standing there with his arms crossed, smirking playfully as he watched you dance made you stop in your tracks, greeting the purple haired male happily as he walked into the kitchen.

“You clean up good, What’s the occasion?” He took a bottle of water from the fridge before taking a sip and leaning on the counter besides you, watching with interest at the piping hot seafood pasta.

“I just wanted to look nice! We’re so busy with training I rarely get the chance to do my hair nicely!” 

He didn’t think twice about complimenting you on the spot.

“You are a natural. You look great with any hairstyle.”

Shinsou caught you of guard for a solid minute, leaving you frozen in place and so distracted, tat you didn’t notice him stealing a bite from the pasta until you hear a hum of approval. 

He only chuckled when your turned in his direction and gave him an offended look.

“Did you just eat directly from the pan?!”

This time he couldn’t hold back his laughter when you began chasing him around the kitchen. It wasn’t his fault that he enjoyed teasing his best friend and crush every now and then, was it?

@bnhabookclub @gallickingun @godtieruwu @hanniejji @mysticalite @samanthaa-leanne @savagetrickster @shoobirino @bnha-ra @hawks-senseis @sugacookiies @wesparklebitch

[mariinara]

REDAMANCY. (Sam Drake x Reader) PROLOGUE.

A/N: Oh, sweet mother Theresa.. I've been holding this secret for so long. The idea came to me when @the-winchesterboys pitched it as just a fluff request, but I decided to make a whole series out of it. So, I can proudly say that this is a sort of collaboration that gave birth to my first Sam Drake fic. ♡

Tags: @the-drakeboys , @the-winchesterboys , @missdictatorme , @samdrakeftw , @hrgnm , @purplezebra68 , @s4mdrake , @unchartedterritoria

Summary: You're a retired treasure-hunter who had brief history with Sam before the events of Panama, after which you were heartbroken, but met your current fiance, Connor Walsh. You get an unexpected call from a certain someone, asking you to embark on one last adventure together through London and Morocco to uncover a childhood mystery, during which you confront each other, reflect on your past, and rekindle the relationship that might cost you your pretend peaceful life.

Genre: Action/Adventure/Drama/Comedy

Rating: 18+

(PROLOGUE, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)

  Location: United States, Boston suburbs.

                       __________________

Your paint roller glided smoothly across the wall of your new study room, the wetness glistening with the bright ray of sunlight from your open window. You found yourself smiling in comfort whilst covering the white, dusty pasty color with a refreshing coat of the faintest shade of beige: a color that beautifully complimented the oak-wood theme of your furniture. It was also a color that represented conservativeness, neutrality, and serenity-- The very same traits that you’ve decided to embrace as a new years’ resolution. You knew it was going to be by no means an easy task. 

If you would’ve displayed any of those traits in the profession you’d left behind, you would’ve been dead. 

You’ve always been an excessive, adventurous, fiery, driven human being. It ran in your veins-- this treasure-hunting hogwash. Whether your expeditions proved fruitful or not, you grew obsessed with that adrenaline surge that rushed through you. That little thrill that came with uncovering world secrets or stumbling upon a marvelous find. The extreme enjoyment you got out of surviving a situation that so clearly was against your odds. The way goosebumps riddled your sweaty skin as you leaped from one cliff to the other. Holding onto a rope for dear life as you swung across. You got off on those sort of reckless heroics, but ever since you met him and you’d clicked immediately, his docile nature immediately rubbed off on you. 

There you were, painting your study while reminiscing about your time in Shambhala, where you and your fiance-- Connor -- met. He was a journalist who came along with Elena and her cameraman Jeff and, from what the relationship between him and Elena suggested, they were both co-workers and rivals. He’d gotten there to uncover Lazarevic’s malicious plot first and was doing okay until Elena and Jeff showed up. Though the bickering between them was childish, Connor was an extremely calm, collected, and understanding human being when it counted. Besides that, he was smart, clever, focused, practical, and he was handsome in a very nerdy way. 

He looked like your typical, struggling journalist. He was tall, pasty skin and rosy cheeks. Sort of broad and built. Always had a shirt on that was slightly crinkled at the hem, since he’d get sick of having it tucked into his pants and would yank it out. A habit you grew to smile at and shake your head. His bright green, curious eyes were framed with a pair of glasses that only a semi-visually impaired person would wear. The lenses were so thick that they formed sort of a weight on the bridge of his nose that would eventually leave red marks where they sat. 

He was nowhere near your type of man. As far as Nathan - the man whom you took care of for a long time before he stumbled upon Elena - knew, your type happened to be that sort of man with an infuriatingly charming air about him. Tall, broad, had tattoos that held meaning to him only. Thick Boston accent and a shit-eating grin that made you roll your eyes but smile, nonetheless. The kind of man that made you weak in the knees with just a wink or a suggestive eyebrow raise. 

A heartbreaker, who ripped away every shred of happiness when he left you almost sixteen years ago to wallow in self-doubt and pure despair. The type of man who both gave meaning to your life at one point, but ended up completely ruining you at another. And by the time he’d made a surprising appearance in your lives, you were a changed woman who had a loving boyfriend who made you forget about all of your past troubles. Your heart aches and most of all, Samuel Drake.

It was a little over a year ago since the last time you'd seen him and though Connor had no idea about your past, Sam had a pretty good picture about your relationship with Connor. Boyfriend of almost six years, about to be engaged to you. The works. 

Sam felt like a complete stranger to you and you were no longer the woman he'd fallen in love with. Or at least you thought so. 

He was so foreign to you, even though he was the exact same person. But you were simply not. Back at Libertalia, you couldn't even bear to talk to him for more than a minute and you didn't know why. It was like talking to a phantom. A figment of your imagination. Looking at him reminded you of all the days you couldn't breathe when his memorial day rolled in every year. It reminded you how broken and dysfunctional you were for the first five years of him not holding you or saying something clever to make you laugh in utter embarrassment. It made you remember how cold you were when you slept on the bed you once shared with him, with his side of the bed empty and untouched for years on end. The years and years of therapy and PTSD. 

Looking at him reminded you of everything that you worked so hard to forget and while you knew that it wasn't fair for him, it was just as unfair to you. 

You finally had your life together and you didn't want anything or anyone standing in the way.

Not even him. 

The fact that you'd parted ways on a bad note as well the last time you'd seen each other didn't at all help. 

Libertalia was an adventure you thoroughly enjoyed and loved deeply. You even had some souvenirs and trinkets from there. But the reason you went there altogether was because you didn't want Sam to die again. To leave you and Nathan. The incentive was purely dutiful since you grew up with both of them, but nothing more. 

Or at least you thought so.

You took a few steps back, your eyes studying the freshly painted wall. Slowly, a satisfied smile crept up to your lips as you wiped your forehead from the sweat, being careful so as to not get your paint-covered fingers on your face. Your hands then wiped against the front of your stained apron with a deep sigh, "God, I'm good." You told yourself with a proud smirk and whipped your head around once you heard the sound of a heavy, cardboard box slump on the floor. Your eyes trailed up to be met with Connor's green ones and he smiled as he stretched his back and walked towards you. He was standing next to you, his arm around your waist, holding you close to his side as he stared at your handiwork.

"Wow.." He chuckled with an impressed nod, "This looks great."

You rested your head on his shoulder, a big smile on your face, "You sound surprised." 

He paused a little, "I am–" You lifted your head and playfully glared at him, making him laugh lightly, "Just a little. Calm down..!" 

With a sigh and a shake of your head, you patted his ass with your dry paint-covered hand and he jumped a little, letting out a small surprised noise, "Alright, then, nerd." You ripped yourself from him and looked around, seeing all those boxes that you needed to empty. They were covering the floor from the entrance of the study to the hallway outside and even the kitchen's island had smaller boxes on top, full of utensils and everything from the kitchen of your old apartment, "That's all of 'em?" You asked, sort of hopeful that you wouldn't have to unpack another one of those nightmares.

"Yep." Connor responded, "I'm hungry, though. How 'bout dinner first?" He suggested and you couldn't be more relieved since you were starved.

"Sounds good."

Your fiance smiled sweetly at you, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips that lasted for a while before he pulled away, "I'll go get started with the kitchen stuff, then."

You smiled back at him, your eyes trailing down to look at the messy collar of his shirt, only for your hand to adjust it and smoothen down the shoulders, "Alright, dear."

And he was off to the kitchen, maneuvering around boxes as he did. You watched him for a couple of seconds, feeling as if your life was finally falling into place. That everything was perfect. That you were healed.

As if God didn't want that for you, your cellphone rang in your back pocket, almost startling you. With an exasperated sigh, you untied your apron and crumpled it in your hands, reaching in for your phone with the other. 

Upon seeing the caller ID, your demons crawled back up to gnaw the back of your brain. Your eyes widened briefly and you glanced towards the empty hallway Connor passed through earlier. You contemplated not answering, but knowing him, he was probably in trouble.

Your thumb hovered above the 'reject' icon, your brows furrowed and your heart thumping violently against your ribcage, as if begging to jump out. And against your better judgement, you swiped the 'accept' icon, pulling the phone to your ear slowly and giving your back to the door. 

You heard what sounded like a sigh of relief on the other line. 

"I thought you'd never answer."

You paused for a second, rubbing your forehead with your fingers, "It was tempting."

He chuckled, somewhat bitterly, "Why didn't you?"

You rested your hand on your hip, your eyes flickering all around the room, as if searching for an answer, but you found yourself talking without even thinking, "Because I feel obligated not to." You responded, "You don't usually call, either, so you must be in some sort of trouble."

You heard silence from him for a second, "You know why I don't call. I dunno how your guy would react."

You raised a brow, glancing over your shoulder at the door to make sure Connor wasn't close, "And you thought now's a good time because..?"

"Because I need you."

You inhaled deeply at his reply. A dreadful feeling resided in the pit of your stomach. Something about the way he said that didn't rest well with you, but you knew what he meant.

You looked up to the ceiling, trying your best to bite back a mean response, "What do you want, Sam?"

"Right.." You heard shuffling on his end, sounding like papers and clanking glass, "I'll get to the point."

"Please."

"Remember when we were younger? That book I used to love."

Of course you remembered. You'd stay up all night with Sam, sitting on a bench under streetlights, listening to his stories from the book he so loved. He was so theatrical, acting everything out, doing the pirate accents, deepening his voice, hiding one eye with his hand to give the effect of an eye patch.

How could you possibly forget?

"A general history of the robberies and murders of the most notorious pirates." You responded with a small, wistful smile that you weren't aware of, "Yeah."

"Remember when I said how it was complete bullshit?" 

"You were pretty disappointed.." You muttered in amusement, going over to your desk to sit on the edge.

Sam chuckled lightly, "Then you remember my never-ending babbling about Red Rackham's treasure."

"Sam." You stopped him, feeling the uncomfortable feeling bubbling up to claw at your chest, "Where's this going?" You cautiously asked, narrowing your eyes at nothing in particular.

Another long pause came from him, and with each passing second, you felt your anxiety bubble up more.

"I know where it got sunk."

"Where what got sunk?"

"The unicorn."

You pinched the bridge of your nose at the familiar name of the sunken pirate ship and shook your head, "You can't possibly be doing this on my moving day." You tried to keep your voice low but your dismay was extremely clear and you could almost see him frowning at your tone.

"Moving day?" He asked. You suddenly remembered how transparent he was. He did no effort to hide his bitterness and you could so clearly hear it.

You shook your head and decided to divert the subject, "I don't do that kinda thing anymore, Sam. You know that." 

He snorted, "Since when?"

"Since Libertalia." You retorted, "Since Connor, Sam. He doesn't do that sorta thing, either."

"That–That is good for him, but I know for a fact that that's not who you are."

You let out a humourless laugh and threw your hand up in frustration, "I'm not waiting for you to tell me who I am; I know what I want."

"No, you don't."

You were about to snap at him, but something stopped you. What would you say to that? Was this really who you were? The way Sam put it made you doubt almost everything. 

"Doesn't matter, Sam. I'm happy, okay?"

"You may be now, but the more you fight it, the more you're gonna hate him and hate your life, sweetheart." 

"What are you trying to do?" You asked, in a surrendered voice, your hand tightening around your phone.

"Give you a chance." He replied easily, not even giving it a thought, "This is our story. Our treasure. You were obsessed with this as much as I was. Your journal, your hand drawn maps.." He paused, "I still have 'em.."

You shook your head, feeling your resolve crumble with the sentence he added at the end, looking down at your feet, "What am I gonna tell Connor..?"

"You'll figure somethin' out." He said, his voice a bit hopeful, knowing that he broke your thick skin a bit, "C'mon. Whaddya say..? You and me. One last time?"

You inhaled deeply. 

He was right. You have been obsessed with finding that treasure for the longest time as wanderlust-struck teenagers. It was like your Everest. But you never got around to it, since it all reminded you of him. You didn't want to embark on that journey without him by your side. And now that he was there, you could finally finish the book of journeys. To fulfill the last of your wishes. 

Maybe then you'd be able to live happily with Connor, without having to deal with the burden of having something missing.

And so, you smiled and nodded to yourself, "Okay." You responded simply, earning a relieved chuckle from him, "Sully's gonna be there, though, right?"

"You could say that."

You frowned, "What's that mean?" 

"He'll be there at some point." He vaguely replied, making you roll your eyes, "Just make sure you're there by tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night..?" You asked, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, feeling the fatigue roll over you stronger than ever, "Where do I need to go?"

"London. Bloomsbury." 

You ripped a paper from your notebook, holding the phone against your ear with your shoulder, and grabbed a pen, yanking off the cover with your teeth and writing down the address.

"Okay.." You muttered.

"Euro hotel. The room's under Victor's name. You know what to do."

You felt your heart beating faster as you wrote the last letter, with the small P.S. about the reservation name. 

You let out a shaky breath and held the phone in your hand again, straightening up, "Got it. I'll be there at nine."

"Perfect." You could practically hear the grin in his voice, "See ya soon, sweetheart." 

You smiled softly and nodded, "See you soon.." 

You held the phone against your ear until it went blank and that's when you realized what you've just gotten yourself into.

There you were again. With no self-control when you heard the words treasure and adventure. You were so caught up in the childhood memories that you didn't think of what you'd actually tell Connor and, for some reason, the truth wasn't an option.. 

You heard him calling out your name from the kitchen and you quickly whipped your head towards the door, inhaling deeply to calm your jagged nerves. You found yourself fiddling with the engagement ring on your finger and you looked down at your hands, pursing your lips together tightly.

'No backing out now..' You thought.

You exhaled and forced a smile to your face, "Comin', honey!" You called out cheerfully, quickly stuffing the note with the address in your back pocket, hurrying out of the study room.

[cherrytdatt]

Sadness Ritual pt. 2

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word count: ~6k (i really thought it would be shorter)

Summary: Tom wished he was the normal guy you wanted.

Warnings: one panic attack (nothing too graphic), angst, my bad language, and my bad writing.

A/N: Sadness Ritual pt 2 is here! I didn't wanna make a pt 2 but then i received this ask talking about a Tom pov and i thought it was the best idea ever, so i decided to try it. Now that i did it i kind of want a happier end for Tom and Y/N, so PLEASE let me know if you guys want a part 3 to end all this mess. OH! AND THIS IS ANGST AF!!!!!!

Request: SADNESS RITUAL WAS SO GOOD. But what if it was the other way around? What if Tom thinks the reader, a normal girl, would never choose him bc of his fame and how she always says she probably wouldn’t be able to handle it? Thanks in advance!❣️

***Playlist: “This is Lewis Capaldi” on Spotify.

Part 1

Tom looked at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair for the tenth time. "Fuck," he muttered, annoyed. "Fuck this shit!" he said, running his hand through his hair and messing it out even more. Tom was at his limit. He was forcing himself to go on a date just to try to feel something. Actually, he was on his third date with the same girl. He talked to her, he kissed her, they had sex, and nothing. Tom felt nothing. Well, he felt...regret, sadness, anxiety...not what he was looking for.

"Third date?" Harrison asked, leaning on the door, and looking at his friend's annoyed expression.

"Something like that," Tom said.

"This is getting serious?" he asked when Tom started trying to fix his hair again.

"It seems like," Tom said with a weak voice.

"Did you introduced her to any other friend?" Harrison was trying to make his friend talk. Something he didn't do for some time.

Tom glanced at Harrison, knowing what he was really trying to ask. "Not yet. She'll meet Tuwaine and Sam tonight," he said, looking at his reflection again.

"What about Y/N?" Harrison finally asked.

"What about her?" Tom was feeling more and more stressed.

"How long you think you can hide this from her?"

"I'M NOT..." he said, exasperated. "I'm not hiding anything," he defended himself. Harrison knew that Tom loved you, cause he told him months ago. Harrison also knew that you loved Tom, cause his girlfriend and your best friend, Anna, told him months ago. They tried not to force you two to face this mess, but Harrison was tired of seeing his friend struggling to get over a girl who loved him. However, every time he talked to Tom, the boy always said he was okay, and that there was nothing he could do, even if you liked him the same way, to make it work.

"Then what is it?" Harrison asked.

Tom took a deep breath, finally giving up on his hair. He was gonna wear a hat. "You wanna know something I want?" Tom asked rhetorically, leaning against the sink, and Harrison looked at him, hoping his friend would finally talk to him. "I want you to forget that I ever told you I like Y/N. I want you to go hang out with Anna and let me get over Y/N the best way I can," he walked to Harrison. “Please, do this for me," he patted his friend's shoulder and left the bathroom, going back to his bedroom. Harrison shook his head, sad for his friend.

~

The date was a nightmare. Tom didn't enjoy it at first, then he started drinking so he could start enjoying it. He got drunk, therefore he started talking and being clingy. In the end, his head was pounding, his heart was aching, and his guilt was more alive than ever. When he finally got home, all he wanted was to sleep and forget about the entire night. He laid in his bed, wishing for a short term amnesia. Why did he keep doing this? How long would he keep trying to like this girl and ignore what he felt for you? He looked at his cellphone that was by his side on the bed. He couldn't tell you. He tried. Almost a year ago.

"Look! I just found another pic!" you said animatedly, and already a little drunk, turning the phone so he can look at it. You laughed at his grumpy face in the picture.

"And that's why I hate LA," he said. "Only there these people follow me and take these pictures," he pointed at your phone.

You two had planned a movie night with Harrison and Anna, at least that was what you thought. What happened was that Tom asked Harrison to make something up and leave you and him alone, so he could finally talk to you about how he was feeling.

Tom starred at you while you scrolled trough stupid sites, looking for 'grumpy photos of Tom.' You always said you like to turn them into memes. "I don't know how you do this. I would die if someone took a picture of me and posted it online without my permission," you said. Tom always knew that you hated unexpected pictures. Actually, you hated pictures in general. Your Instagram feed had thirty pictures, all landscapes from places you traveled to. That was one of the reasons he rarely went out with you, and when you go out, he made sure that more people were around so people won't focus on taking pictures of you.

"You get used to it," he shrugged.

"I doubt that," you said absentmindedly, still scrolling. "Oh! Look at this one," you turned the screen so Tom could see. It was a picture of him, eating, and a girl he was out with, annoyed with something. "Best of luck for your next girlfriend, because this..." you pointed at the screen. "It's a lot to deal with," you laughed, not noticing the sad expression that appeared in his face. Tom just realized he couldn't tell you how he felt. Option one, you would turn him down, his heart would break and he would have to watch you live your life without him. Option two, you would like him back, but as soon as the world found out about your relationship, you would hate him for exposing you.

"You don't think I’m worth the effort?" he asked, his tone more serious than he wanted to. He was incapable to control his own voice.

"Sweetie, don't get me wrong. You're the best person I know, any girl would be lucky to date you. But this girl should be enjoying your company, and she's clearly not," you said. "And I'm sure that she's like that cause you were in a bad mood because of the paparazzi," you gave him a questioning look, making him smile.

"Let's just watch the movie," he changed the subject before you could notice his mood switch.

His heavy eyes opened slowly. The noises coming from the kitchen helped him to wake up completely. He searched for his phone. 10:32. He sat on the bed, holding his head. "Fuck!" he groaned. "Fucking stupid!" He got up, going to his bathroom. He needed a shower.

The shower and the smell of coffee was a relief. Tom put on a black jeans and headed to the kitchen. "'Morning," Anna said, seeing him enter the kitchen.

"Hey," Tom said, going to the coffeemaker and serving himself some coffee.

"Tough night?" Anna asked, spreading strawberry jelly in her toast.

"Drank too much," he said.

They both sat in silence, eating, and drinking the coffee. After breakfast, Tom went back to his room. He was in no mood to talk. He searched in his cabinet for some aspirin and something for his nausea. He laid in bed, turning his TV in some random golf game. But he wasn't really paying attention.

He unlocked his phone, going through his chats. His family chat was blowing up, just like his group chat with the boys. He clicked on your tab, looking at the meme you sent him the day before. He didn't answer cause he was on his way to the girl's house. He couldn't talk to you today. The memories were too fresh in his mind. He just stayed there, laid in bed, waiting for the pills to work. Things could be easier. They should be.

"So?" you asked, looking at him. You two were laid on your back on the floor of his living room.

"I'm thinking," he said, laughing.

"Jesus! It's just a color. Just pick one and I'll tell you if it'll look good or not," you rolled your eyes.

"Blue?" he said more like a question.

"What kind of blue?" you asked.

"I don't know," he shrugged, laughing. "How many there are?"

"At least tell me if it's light or dark," you tried.

"In the middle," he looked at you. You were starring at the skylight. The sun sparkling in your eyes, making them shine even more.

You laughed, shrinking your shoulders, he loved it when you do that. "So, they will give you a car, and you will pick a blue one? Not dark blue or light blue. A middle blue?" you asked turning to look at him.

"Exactly!" he said.

"You know what? Ask for a middle blue one. If you hate it, at least you didn't pay for it," you smiled.

"Good point," he said, and you heard the door opening. You sat, leaning on your arms.

"What are you two doing?" Harrison asked, stopping at the door with Anna by his side.

"Tom is getting a car, and we're trying to decide what color we want," you explained nonchalantly. Tom propped himself in his elbows, looking at the newly formed couple.

"How was your date?" you asked. You knew they would tell the truth no matter what. Your group of friends, that involved another four or five people, was this type of friend, that always tells the truth. If it was bad, they would say that they decided to stay friends, and everything would be okay. If it was good, good!

Anna bit her lower lip, holding a smile. "I think it was good," Harrison said, holding her by the waist, and looking down at her.

"Yeah...it was good," she looked at him.

"They are gonna get married, aren't they?" you whispered to Tom who laughed, shaking his head.

"Friends can do this?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Apparently, they can," you pointed at the couple that was in their own world. "I'm gonna be a shitty made of honor," you whined.

"I'm gonna be a great best man," Tom shrugged.

"We are going..." Harrisons said pointing to his room.

"Yeah, yeah. Go!" you cut him off, and they just left you two in the living room. "So, blue?" you asked, laying on the floor again.

"Blue!" Tom said.

He got the blue car, and you loved it for a while. But then it was so bright and so...blue. Tom started hating too. So much that, after a while, he just gave it to his mom and his brothers.

Tom looked at his phone again. 7:24. The day was getting darker and darker. A knock on his door woke him from his thoughts. He spent the whole day in bed between naps and self-hatred. "Hey, mate. How are you feeling?" Harrison asked getting into his room and closing the door behind him.

"Not great," Tom replied, propping himself up.

"Yeah...It'll get worst," Harrison warned, sitting in his bed. His face was a mix of worry and sadness.

"What happened?" Tom asked in a worried tone.

"Your date, yesterday, it's all over the internet," Harrison said, handing him his phone. A clear picture of him, holding the girl's hand. He didn't even remember doing this, but he was smiling, and the girl was too. He was fucked! He didn't tell almost anyone he was dating. His mom didn't know. You didn't know. Y/N! You crossed his mind. You would hate him for hiding something like this, and you didn't even know why he was hiding it.

"Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck!" He said, getting up still looking at the pictures.

"It's okay, mate. I know it's not what you wanted, but it's okay. You're allowed to date," Harrison tried to calm him down.

Tom was freaking out, his breath was getting shorter, and his chest was hurting, his head was spinning. He fucked up big time.

"Tom?" Harrison called. He ran his hand through his hair. Why was this happening? And at that moment, he wished he wasn't famous. He wished he never did the Spider-Man movies. He wished he was a normal guy. That way these pictures would never exist and he would be the normal you want in your life. He needed to get out of his house. He handed Harrison his phone and left the room, putting on the first shirt and shoe he found.

"Where are you going?" Harrison followed him around the house.

"I'm going out," he said, getting his car keys.

"Tom..." Harrison called, but he was already out.

There was one place Tom could handle now. There was one person who would help him now. He drove the short way to their house. The familiar path. He stopped the car, getting out. He was still shaking, and for a split second, he thought that he shouldn't drive like that. He walked the little trail to the front door. Tom took a deep breath, the deepest he could at this moment, knocking on the door three times. His wait seemed longer than it really was. A noise inside warned him someone was home.

"Hey, mom," he said when the door finally opened.

"Hey, sweetie," his mom said, opening her arms to him. He hugged her like it was the last thing he was gonna do in his life. His eyes were burning, and he already could feel the tears emerging. "I'm sorry, baby," she said, caressing his head. His mom knew how much he hated being that exposed, she knew how much he was struggling the last months, and she had a feeling that the girl he liked wasn't the one in the pictures.

~

Tom played with the mug in front of him, trying to forget everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours. "Do you wanna talk about it?" his mom asked, looking at him.

Tom looked at her, and then again to his mug. "I...I just..." he was struggling. "How...did I let that happen?"

"It was not your fault, Tom. The pictures were not your fault. You are always careful, but these people are crazy. They stalk you, and never care about your privacy," his mom said.

"Yeah, but if I didn't have this job..." he started, but she cut him off.

"Don't say that! You love your job. A lot of great things come from your job. All the people you help, you just help because of your job. So don't regret having it. You just have to learn how to deal with this part of your job," she said.

"I know. But sometimes I just wished I was a normal guy, you know?" he cried.

"You are a normal guy. You clean the dishes, you argue with your brothers, you go out with your friends. These are all 'normal guy' stuff," she smiled.

"Yeah, but..."

"Look,” she looked at him expectantly, “Do you wanna tell me what's really bothering you?" she said and he looked at her.

"It's... it's Y/N," he finally said. His mom listened to the whole story. How he fell in love with you, but you kept saying that date him must be a nightmare because of the pictures and the stalk, even though he was the best person you ever met. He told her how he tried to tell you a few times about how he felt, but always gave up when you included the word 'normal' in your guy description after saying his life as crazy as hell. How after a few months he just gave up and tried to move on, dating other girls, and that was when this girl showed up. He told her he didn't have the courage to talk to you about the girl, because he rather tell you about how he loved you, instead.

"You may disagree with me, but I think she likes you too," his mom said afterward, earning a shocking and confused look from Tom. "First, I see you two together since you were twelve, and it's annoying how sometimes you ignore everyone else in the room but each other. Second, she says that but never refuses to go out with the boys and you, and this means that she hates the exposure, but she hates, even more, being apart from you. And I will end with the third one, even though I could go on forever. She would never say you are the best person in the world if she didn't think you are worth the effort," his mom said.

"I asked her if I wasn't worth," he said still not convinced.

"And what did she said?"

He tried to remember the night, which wasn't that difficult since he replayed your talk for days after it happened. "She was looking at some paparazzi pictures of me and a girl, saying how bad that girl’s life must be with all the exposure and I asked her if I wasn't worth it," he told her.

"And what did she said?"

"She said I was the best person in the world but the girl in the picture should be enjoying being with me, and she wasn't," he finished.

"Yes? And when is that the same thing that say you don’t worth the effort?" she asked with a smile in her face.

"It isn't?" he asked, a little hope appearing in his eyes.

"Of course not! She meant that the girl didn't like you enough to be happy there," she said. "If you want my opinion, I think she implied that you being 'the best person in the world', the girl was being an idiot for not enjoying your company," she finished.

"Do you really think this?" he asked.

"Why would I lie? By the way, I think you were scared of talking to her, and that's why you got everything wrong," she shrugged.

Maybe his mom was right. He was afraid to mess up your friendship and took him weeks to decide to talk to you. And when he finally decided, the first thing you said made him give up.

Tom went back to his house feeling a little better. Talk to his mom always helped. He still was regretting the night before, and still was afraid of talking to you, but now he didn't hate his job, and he had this hope that maybe you could love him back enough to handle all the bullshit in his life.

"Did you talked to Y/N?" Anna asked as soon as he got home.

"No," he started. But before he could say he was planning to, Anna cut him off.

"She doesn't answer my texts or call," she said, looking at him from the couch. "I think she's upset."

"Did you called her place?" he asked scrolling through his phone.

"No. I think you should go talk to her," Anna told him. She had an idea of why you weren't answering her, and only Tom could solve this.

"Y-yeah, sure. I'll..." he said, picking up his keys again and leaving.

~

'I talked to her. She's alive. But talk to her! You know what I mean!!!' Anna's text appeared on the screen of his phone, and he felt the air being pulled out of him.

He got into your building, breathing slowly, trying to calm himself. The time in the elevator looked like an eternity. When the door opened and your door came to his view, he thought he was going crazy for doing this. But now he was here, so he was gonna do it anyway. He walked to your door, and he could hear that annoying band you always listen to when you're sad. His heart broke, thinking about you being sad. He leaned his hands against your doorway, trying to calm himself the best he could. He knocked on your door three times. Not a change in the sound that was coming from inside. He looked at the floor seeing a shadow moving behind the door and that hurt him a little. You was hiding from him.

"I know you're in there. Let me in," he tried to sound as normal as he could. "I can see your shadow moving behind the door. Open up," he finished when you didn't answer. 

"I'm not feeling so good. I talk to you later. Or text you." you said, but he wasn't giving up that easy. He thought about what his mom said.

"Please. I know you're lying. Your second best friend told me you were upset," he said, exposing her lie.

"Yeah... well, I'm upset cause I'm feeling sick," now he knew you were lying, and your lazy voice was a sign that you were probably drunk.

"You can't lie to me. I'm hearing that awful band you listen to whenever you're sad... and by your voice, I can tell you are drinking wine. No one who is feeling sick drinks wine," he said, feeling a little happy with how much he knew about you.

"Please, Tom... just leave me alone. We can talk tomorrow," he felt the sadness on your voice. He took a deep breath leaning his hand against the door.

"No way. I'm your best friend. I'm here to take care of you and I'm not gonna leave until you let me in," he said concerned. "I'm gonna spend the entire night on the floor, and all your neighbors will talk about how you let a cute movie star spend the night on the floor, and you will be a villain, and they will hate you forever," he joked seating on the floor by your door. He had to talk to you today.

"You're so idiot," you said, so low that he almost didn't hear.

"But you love me," he said, with a hopeful smile. 'I hope,' he thought.

He heard you walking and the song stopped. He did it! You would let him in. "I know you gonna let me in cause you turned off that awful music," he laughed.

"I didn't turn it off, I just turned down," he heard you.

"Why do you listen to such depressive music..." he started. "...when you're sad?" he finished, relief running through his body when he saw you.

"Do you want me to listen to a Barney song?" you quipped with a smile. Even though it looked like a forced smile, he was happy he let him in.

"First of all, tell me why you are sad?" he asked, hugging you, hoping you would tell the truth.

"No specific reason," you lied and he felt your body tense in his arms.

"Why are you so difficult sometimes?" he asked, entering your apartment before you could lock him out.

"I'm not difficult," you protested.

"Sure," he sat on your couch, picking up the glass of wine you were drinking. He was feeling the courage ran out of his body. He needed alcohol. Even if it was that disgusting wine you drank on these occasions. "And this awful cheap wine," he complained, feeling the extremely bitter taste of the wine go down his throat.

"Are you here to criticize me? Cause I didn't ask you to come," you said and he felt the bitterness in your voice.

"I'm joking, okay?" he explained himself.

"Okay," you mumble, sitting by his side. His heart was going crazy inside his chest. "I thought you were out with friends today?" you started before he could say anything.

"Who told you that?" he asked confused, he had no plans of going out tonight.

"Anna," you said.

"Yeah... she was wrong," he said, thinking if Anna told you about him storming out of his house. He looked at the TV, trying to hide the sadness in his eyes when he thought about his panic attack.

"I thought so... since you were out yesterday," you said, and he felt his body froze. How did you know about him going out? He asked Harrison and Anna not to tell you anything.

"How do you know that?" he asked, not wanting to look at you. He was panicking.

"Anna," you said, and an idea crossed his mind. Did you saw the pictures? "Did you had fun?" you asked, cutting his thoughts.

Tom was feeling the panic building in his body. "It could've been better if you were there," he said, trying to hide how dry his throat felt.

"Well, if you had asked me, I could've been there," you said, and he felt his chest tightening. He hummed, incapable of saying any words. He was feeling his entire body hurt. He couldn't think straight.

You got up, going to the kitchen with the glass and the empty bottle. He took deep breaths, trying to stay calm. His body relaxed a little. "You can sleep on the couch if you want," you said, and his heart fell. You were running away from him.

"Can I sleep with you?" he asked before he could think something else. He just wanted to be close to you.

"Sure," you shrugged. "I'm gonna... brush my teeth," you left the room, and Tom could hear his heart beating loud and clear. You knew about the pictures. He saw your notebook close to where you were seated. He looked at the hallway where you disappeared a few seconds ago, and without thinking much about what he was doing, he opened the notebook. The first thing he saw broke his heart in a million pieces. It was him holding that girl's hand. So you saw the pictures, and that was why you were sad.

Wait! His mind started working again. If what was bothering you was the fact that he didn’t tell you about the girl, you would be mad, not sad. And you would scream at him, not hide from him. But you didn't scream. You were sad. That could mean his mom was right. You liked him. He felt his heart beating fast. A confident smile appearing on his face.

He closed the notebook again. A stingy feeling in his stomach when he focused on the picture again before closing. He got up, going to your bathroom. "Can I use the bathroom?" he asked, not hearing a noise from inside.

"Yeah. I'm almost done," you said, and he leaned on the doorway, not able to hide the smile in his face, thinking that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

“What took you so long?” he asked with a smile, the feeling that his mom was right growing inside him.

“I-I’m going… to bed,” you said, and he nodded.

“I’ll meet you there,” he said, going into the bathroom. He was feeling almost normal again. Tom looked at his reflection. His hair was a mess, but he didn't care. You always said he looked good like that. He brushed his teeth with the toothbrush he left at your home a few months ago. Before he left the bedroom he looked at himself one more time, promising internally that, no matter what happened from that moment on, you two would end up together. Even if he had to take classes to learn how to be the normal guy you wanted.

He walked out of the bathroom, going to your bedroom. “Do you still have those sweatpants I gave you a couple months ago?” he thought about how you looked so good in his clothes, that he had to give them to you.

“Yeah, I think it’s somewhere in my closet,” you said. “Maybe… the second drawer,” you instructed, seeing he wasn't finding it.

He opened the drawer finding the sweatpants and the shirt. “Lucky me I gave you this,” he smiled, taking off his pants. You avoided his look. He decided to try again and ask you why you were sad. “So when are you gonna tell me why you’re sad?” he said, putting the sweatpants.

“Uh-hum… I just told you, no specific reason,” you lied again.

“You know I know you too well to believe in that, right?” he tried, taking his shirt off. He felt your eyes on him, and he bit his lips trying not to smile at your charmed expression. After a few seconds, he decided to cough to get your attention back. You looked at him, and he pressed his lips together, that smile still fighting to appear.

“I think it's that time of the month,” you finally said.

“Sure,” he rolled his eyes, knowing you were lying. He knew you had your period two weeks ago, cause he invited you to go to his house and you said no, cause you were on your period. He then sent you food and medicine. “Do you mind if I sleep shirtless?” he asked.

“No,” you said.

“Thanks,” he gave you a small smile, jumping on the bed. Tom felt the urge to hug you. He turned on his side, putting a hand on your waist, and leaning closer to you. You took a deep breath, and for a second he thought you were gonna say something. But instead, you turned your back to him. Tom felt his heart break a little. Those pictures really hurt you. He hurt you. “You know I would never hurt you on purpose,” he whispered. He was really sorry. He would give everything to go back in time, cancel that date and go talk to you, instead. Right now, if it was possible, he would take away all the sadness you were felling, and tell stupid stories until you laugh, that laugh that made you shrink your shoulders. Tom felt you relax in his arms, and your breath was calmer. He looked over your shoulder. You were sleeping. He hugged you tighter and kissed your neck.

~

Tom woke up with the noise of the door closing and the empty bed. He rubbed his eyes, sighing. He turned on the bed, looking for his phone. 3:07. He got up and left the room. The light on your kitchen was up, and he heard your muffled voice. “Who are you talking to?” he said, still a little confused from his sleep.

“Jesus!” you said, startled. “A warning would be good.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, feeling his dry throat. He picked the glass that was in your counter, filling it with water. 

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” you said.

“No problem. Are you okay?” he asked, drinking the water. He was worried about you.

“Great,” you said, but your voice was sad. Tom was tired, his mind was weird and he felt his heart hurt. He couldn't handle this anymore.

“Can you stop lying to me?” he said, not being able to control his voice or the sudden urge to solve things.

“I-I’m not lying,” you lied and he noticed you couldn't even look at him.

“Are you serious?” he put the glass on the counter and tried to control his head.

“I’m s-sorry. I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m good… everything is good… I’m sad because…” you started, and he felt stupid for thinking you would tell the truth. “I don’t know. Maybe PMS or whatever,” you blurted out.

He was just tired. He felt his eyes and his throat burning. “Okay,” he laughed dryly. “So, tell me something…” he needed to see the truth in your eyes. “Why were you looking at pictures of me with a girl that I went out yesterday?” his voice was low. You flinched, still avoiding his eyes. “Tell me, Y/N,” he got closer. “Why were you in your 'sadness ritual’ looking at those pics?” he didn't understand why you didn't tell him what was really in your head. All he wanted, was for you to tell the truth. “Do you have something to tell me?” he asked, leaning on the counter. “Anna thinks you do. And Haz too,” he said.

“Tom I…” you started. “I…” his heart was beating so fast. You cleared your throat, and Tom tried to keep himself calm. “I think you should go,” you finally said.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. “W-what?” he asked, confused.

“I really think you should go,” you repeated. “I need to be by myself tonight. I’m really not feeling okay and I need some time,” you pushed him away.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” he said, not hiding the hurt in his voice. You looked hurt too.

“Please…” you avoided his look.

“You know that this is not what you really want to say," he cried. He knew more than ever that you liked him. He didn't understand why you were doing this. "You know you’ll regret this. Don’t do this,” he pleaded, reaching for your arm but you pulled away. “Y/N.” he said.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” you raised your voice. “Really? What do you want me to say?” you were struggling not to cry. “Do you want me to tell you what I felt when I saw the pictures of you with a girl you invited out and didn’t tell me about, God knows why," you said with hurt in your voice. He hurt you, more than he could imagine. He clenched his jaw, feeling his body tensed up. "Do you want me to tell you why I felt so sad that I had to do my 'sadness ritual’ to keep myself from screaming at you or broking my computer?” your voice was bitter. His nails were hurting his palms. “You know what I have to tell you. You can pretend you don’t know, you can mess around all you want, but you know that you are not ready to hear what I have to say,” you rubbed your eyes, holding your tears. “What I don’t know is why are you doing this?” you asked sincerely. “Why are you here? It looks like you have a good thing," you said referring to the girl he went out. "Go enjoy it and… let me be, please.”

Tom was feeling his head pounding. He couldn't take it anymore. “You don’t see it, do you?” he finally said. His voice was low. He felt tears falling.

“What? What I don’t see?” you asked.

“I don’t wanna be with nobody else," he finally confessed. "I’m trying to tell you this for the last year and you keep ditching me," he thought about every time you said you hated his lifestyle. All the times you said you wanted a normal guy. "You don’t listen to me,” his voice was sad. “I love you. I want you. Please, don’t make me go,” he said, feeling that was his last chance.

“You can’t say that one day after you went on a date with another girl,” you were hurt, and he felt the guilt eating him alive.

“Please, Y/N. Don’t do this,” he reached for your arm, pulling you closer.

“I love you, but I need some time to think,” you said without looking at him, and he felt that was the worst that could happen.

[aloera]

The ask prompt is too long to fit into an ask TT_TT but here's the doc for it docs(.)google(.)com/document/d/1yDI7iFRhOJ8ENv_IwZAo3rDSUqj80EiJROS10RzRbj4/edit

the lengths u are going for this,,, much appreciated you're very sweet!!!

prompts + answers under the cut!!

INTRODUCTION

Name: aloera

AO3 account: aloera

Fandoms you write for: bnha

How many stories have you written so far: 19

FANFICTION PROFILE

What's your favorite fandom to write for? hmm,,, used to do pjo and eah (ever after high) and eah was fun as fuck i will say!!! i think bnha is my fav mostly bc i made the most friends in this fandom :D

What's your favorite character/person to write for? bkg and kirishima!! cannot choose do not make me <3

Fic you'd want to improve? probably what we deserve? i rushed the beginning and the confession is a bit stilted imo

Hardest fic you've written? between lion and men -_- bc there is so much canon compliant stuff i've gotta write out before i get to the divergence and its HARD

Easiest fic you've written? come home to me!!! it happened so easily,,, no second guessing no writers block just vibes <33 was lovely i miss it

What would you say is the most "famous" fic you've ever written? also probably come home to me? its got the most interaction

first line of the first fic you've ever written and published. [not including my 2014 ffnet fics] "The bell rings, class starts, and Katsuki and Midoriya are inexplicably absent." from come home to me

Have you ever done a collab with another writer? yes!!!!! on two separate occasions and its so fucking fun i highly recommend trying it out its the best

Do you beta? if asked but honestly im a shit beta lmao

Do you like joining fic fests/exchanges? depends on what i have going on irl but in general yeah!!

FANFICTION PREFERENCES

Fluff or angst? definitely fluff

"OCs" or "Reader" inserts? reader inserts!! have been going ham on them recently

Blurbs or drabbles? blurbs!!

One thing you love about fanfiction i just. i really love slice of life romance?? and most media doesn't give you that bc its dedicated to plot and action and that's valid!! but fanfiction fills in the gap which is really nice

One thing you don't like about fanfiction most of the stuff i don't like is less about actual fanfiction and more about how people behave about it

What is/are your favorite fandom author/authors? IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! TURN IT UP!!!

bnha: hiuythn, rae_tnub, Moniix, Ata_Lanta, wrunic, chezka, PurplePersnickety, surveycorpsejean, mahadevi, arxaris, deviance, Oceanbreeze7, MikeWritesThings, bonnia, wonhaebunny, dinosuns

voltron: hiuythn, Oceanbreeze7, DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee, arahir, dinosuns,

and honorable mention to loveclouds im not even in the haikyuu fandom i just love their fics So Much

these are just the ones off the top of my head i have so many favourites idc if i'm only supposed 2 have one!! die mad about it!!!

What is your favorite trope? secret relationship + relationship reveal til the day i die babie <3 <3

Least favorite trope? hm,,, probably just like. angst lmao i cannot stand 90% of it

A fanfiction cliché that you can't help but love? coffeeshop aus,,,, so good

Do you have a type when it comes to pairings? the otp where its like. piece of shit + himbo = love. ex. krbk, catradora, jade/beck

Favorite setting/au? hm,,, truly i cannot pick one KGKSJNHKj but i really like college aus!! and modern aus!! and roommate aus!!

Explain the meaning of your favorite line of dialogue you've written as if someone hasn't read it in context. “He doesn’t know,” Katsuki says, softly. “My timer stopped and nothing happened. He’s not mine.”

the line is from what we deserve!! it's a soulmate au where your timer counts down to the moment that you meet your soulmate!! bakugou's timer ends at USJ when he and kirishima attack kurogiri at the same time (impulsive kings <33) but kirishima's timer doesn't end until kamino because that's when he accepts himself as bakugous soulmate!! unfortunately, when bakugous timer has reached 0, he turned to see that kirishima's was still ticking and therefore believes that kirishima isn't his soulmate.

this line just,, idk. it's really sad. bakugou is such an action-driven character? if something doesn't go his way he Makes it go his way. he's got this insanely volatile quirk and he's got impeccable control of it!! but his love for kirishima isn't something that he can change and he's not going to ruin kirishima's chance of finding his own soulmate because he loves him and wants him to be happy. i really wanted to focus on how resigned he is? and how unusual that is for a character like him.

Favorite trope/genre to write? again, secret relationship with relationship reveals <33 fluff in general is my wheelhouse!!!

A trope/genre you haven't written but think would be a fun challenge? idk if this counts?? have been working on some dead dove concepts!! its super different from what i normally write so its a cool challenge

The one trope/concept you'll never touch and why probably cheating/infidelity?? it just looks,,, super difficult to write well and i don't have enough of an interest in it to try it out

Which do you prefer to write: longer or shorter fics? shorter!! low attention span gang <3

Ideal length to read? 5-10k?

Ideal length to write? 4-8k!!

How long was the longest fic you've ever written? control fraek is around 28k i think?

Have you ever written an AU? yeah!! i've done restaurant au's, soulmate au's, pro hero aus, and fantasy aus (general, not the bnha fantasy ending)

What's your favorite AU trope? hm,, probably when two people in authority are in a secret relationship? ceo's/uni professors/etc etc

Have you ever written smut? yeah!! was. difficult tho

What's your comfort genre? (the one you fall on most in writing/reading) fluff,,, hurt/comfort,,, fix-it fics with happy endings <3

If you were to start writing in other fandoms, which would they be? maybe jjk?? the characters are really cool!!!! fr i might go back to my ever after high roots i love the characters and setting so Much its so fun!!! idec if no ones into it anymore!!!!!

Is there a trope you think you could be easily recognized by in your writing? i've had people say they saw the mention of buff hagakure and recognized it was me so. probably that skdjhnksjd

WRITING STYLE

How would you describe your style? i tend to use shorter sentences and pretty simple words i think? and i gravitate towards lighthearted concepts that allow for ensemble casts and humour!!

Describe your style in three words romcom but fanfic

Favorite words to use when writing? the word reverent!! fuckin love including it!!

Dialogue tags or no dialogue tags? (she said, he said, they said, etc) dialogue tags!!!

Favorite dialogue tag (other than said, if you use them) again idk if this counts but "they said softly" is unmatched

Long sentences vs short vs a mix short <33

What colors would you use to describe your writing? hm,,, depends on the fic i would say?? control fraek is dark green to me?? kinda like a forest at night yk?? scary but there's still life there. sugar cookies is yellow like early morning sunlight, when it rains is yellowy-orange like a caution sign. not gonna list all of them cause theres a lot its just. do u get it? the colours change based on the vibe of the fic.

What song or music genre would you use to describe your writing? think. i am constantly trying to emulate that moment at the end of wasteland baby when hozier goes "im in love/im in love with you."

What kind of metaphors do you rely on? religious metaphors my beloved <33 they're just so pretty!!! i also love comparing stuff to water for some reason?? like that ocean vuong quote thats like "what are you now?/water." it goes hard!!!

What's something you'd say is experimental in your writing at this time? definitely action!! i have,,, no idea how to write it so anything i do is really just me playing around and seeing what works and what doesn't

Do you prefer to write by hand or to type? i've tried both!! personally i prefer typing because it goes way faster but i will say that writing by hand lets me get words down when i'm going through writer's block

What is your preferred place to write (notebook, laptop, cellphone, etc.)? laptop!!

What app/apps do you use to write (word, notepad, etc.)? google docs skjdnkjh its fine on desktop but mobile is,,,,, disgusting

Do you keep a notebook or file/notes page in your phone/device for notes on your writing? ngl i just have everything organized in my drive?? one folder per fandom and then sub folders for ideas+hcs, unfinished wips, and finished fics. multichaps get sub sub folders so i can organize outlines and drafts

Do you listen to music to help you write? yeah!! playlists organized by fic vibe :D

Where do you usually go to write (bedroom, living room, etc.)? mostly in my bedroom??? but moving around to different stops helps too i think!!

How long does it usually take for you to write? again this depends on what i have going on irl, how attached i am to the idea, my mindset at the time, etc!! i am,, the least consistent person skjnhdkjh.

What's your favorite font to use when writing? times new roman my beloved

Other writing habits? sometimes i'll write in the dark?? bad for my eyes but for some reason it gets the words flowing

CONCEPTUALIZATION

How do you conceptualize your ideas? (See specific moments like they're a movie, writing specific lines in your head, don't know until you put the words on paper, etc.) i tend to get inspiration from movies, books, poems, or other fics!!! sometimes one line just makes me go oh,, i want to write something like that,,, and then it helps me create an idea that makes me feel the same way?? i did this with control fraek!!!! i wanted a scenario where bakugou was cold and calculating and i was like hm. to do that he’d have to be focusing on something important. and from there i was able to flesh out the rest of the idea.

Which comes first: the pairing or the plot? with krbk its always always the pairing,, i'll be sitting there like wow <33 i love them <33 what if one of them had amnesia <33 (which, yes, wip!!) otherwise it's usually the plot!! and i slot in characters that i feel make sense

Have you ever used a prompt? yeah!! used a prompt for wlw week 2020 and it was fun as hell

Do you write around the story around a specific scene you want to get to or do you start from a plot idea definitely the first!!!! i almost always write like,,, a super messy scene thats 90% dialogue, keep it in my head, and then write the entire fic around that one moment

Do you find that you include a projection of some part of yourself in the way you write a character? a lot of the time when i write love confessions or love in general i'll have one of the characters think or say that the other person makes their head quiet? and it's because that's what i feel whenever i'm in love?? a quiet mind. i project on characters yeah but i think most of the projection actually goes to the way that i write love

Do you research some of the things you write deeply, partially and kind of wing the rest, or play entirely by ear (in this case, go with whatever base knowledge of the subject you have)? most of the time if i do research it'll be about the setting (ex. the izakaya in to have and to hold) or if i'm having the characters interact with an object that they like. need to know how to use (me, in control fraek: google. hey google. does someone die if they get shot in the foot??? no???? awesome thank u <3)

Have you ever had an idea for a story and forgot about it? lmaoo yeah all the time i'll find like 500-2k words of concepts in my gdocs like i do. not remember this at all

Is there a trope you think you could be easily recognized by in your writing? probably krbk secret relationship lmao

Are there concepts you've tried that turned out better than expected? yeah!! i fully thought the action in control fraek would be awful but it turned out not bad??? which im happy with

Are there concepts you've tried that turned out worse than you expected? again, what we deserve, i personally think it would have worked out better if i'd paced it slower and drawn out the pining but i. do not feel like going back to fix it so its staying the way that it is. pining is so fucking hard to do AHHHH i get so tired with it!!! im like just date already!!!!

PROCESS

How do you come up with titles? in rare occasions (literally. all my multichaps for some reason) the title comes after writing like .5 words of the first chapter im like YES this is it!!!!! sometimes i write the whole thing and pick out one line that fits (what i did with come home to me) a lot of the time i just. steal from songs or poems that i like

What's your favorite emotion to cause on your readers? i like making people happy!!!! love when people comment saying they're cheered up

What's your favorite emotion to write? lovelovelovelovelovelove

Have you ever cried or felt any emotion while reading something you've written? never cried?? but sometimes i'll rereading my hurt/comfort fics 4. yk. comfort

Do you write in order or whatever comes to you? in order!! unless i have a scene that i Need to write and i'll quickly jot it down so that i don't forget

Usual way you procrastinate while writing? ...doing asks like this, making playlists, discord, watching netflix. what don't i do smh

Do you outline or free write? i am. so shit at outlines. i mostly free write and write lil notes for stuff that i wanna add later

Do you set word goals or scene goals (scenes you want to include)? yes!! like i said i'll write loose notes for scenes that i want to add later!! it gives me something to write towards :D

What do you consider when writing your scenes? what goes into making the atmosphere and mood you want? to set a scene i do two things? the first is like,, the five senses bc that always sets the scene really well and makes it feel Real. i'll visualize stuff in my head like its a movie and write out what i would want to tell the set designer?? if the lights are low, if the space is busy, if it's supposed to exude comfort or not.

for putting forward the character's mood one thing i've found that makes a difference is sentence length!! long sentences are good for making a character seem flustered and nervous or not really in control of their emotions? good for love confessions. short sentences are good for when the character is focused on something or short on time. good for fights!!

What's something you never considered to include in your writing that you can't leave out now? def buff hagakure,,,, once i thought of it i was like. if i don't include this at least once in every single fic how could i look at myself in the mirror!!!!!! how could i face anyone!!!!

How do you start a story? establishing a fact about the character or describing the setting! option a is one single thread of gold, option b is between lion and men

How do you end a story? either by tying it back to the beginning or doing like a funny kind of closing??? option a is sugar cookies, option b is a godless society

How do you get out of writer's block? change something!! move something!! i go from typing to handwriting, moving from my bedroom to my living room, switching wips to work on something else!! i do sprints as well?? give myself like fifteen minutes to write something and sometimes 200 words opens up the way for another 2k. sometimes i'll just delete like 500 words and start fresh

Do you edit? or do you toss your writing out there? i edit!!! i'll go over it myself then send it to one or two betas (bee my beloved <33)

How do you edit? do you use spellcheck, grammar checkers, etc? bee is my grammar checker bc he is So Good with grammar. i use grammarly as well for spellcheck stuff mostly?? sometimes my edit process is just like "am i tired of looking at this!! yes <3" and then i post it

PROGRESS

Do you usually like what you write? yeah!!! i post stuff that makes me happy and that i'm fine with rereading!!! i write stuff for self-indulgence reasons first and foremost and i think my writing reflects that sjhnksj

Have you ever written something you didn't like but posted anyways? nope!! even what we deserve i LIKED even if i see a lot of room 4 improvement!! if i don't like smth it's not getting posted

Do you find yourself rereading your writing often? yeah!! the reason i wrote so much krbk secret relationship is because i loved it but i'd read all that there was so i just,, wrote more,, ngl its kinda nice being in a place where i actually like my writing bc i can write stuff that i want to see and really enjoy it!!

Can you tell us anything about your current WIP? sure!! i'm currently working on when it rains which is a fic where bakugou gets hit by a crying quirk!! i'm gonna be using it to explore So Much of all might's character and his relationships with bakugou and aizawa (and i think some people from his past!!)

Can you give us a sneak peek on your current WIP? “You did something. What the hell did you do?” Kirishima sounds pissed off. It would amuse Katsuki if he wasn’t fighting just to stay standing.

“Nothing he didn’t ask for,” Shinsou replies.

“K’ri… shima,” Katsuki croaks out. “‘S fine. Not him.”

His chest collapses back into the familiar dry heaving after that but Kirishima shuts up. He doesn’t apologize to Shinsou.

Kirishima’s a good friend, stubborn and loyal. He stands by Katsuki’s side like an attack dog, blocking him from the view of anyone ogling at his tears.

The last line you've written Ochako knows more than she'd realized. She knows enough to keep her guard up.

It’s not enough.

Open a wip. what’s the first line?

Katsuki wakes up feeling like absolute fucking shit.

INSIGHT

What's your favorite thing about writing? touched on this before but it's mainly just being able to write the things that i want to see and actually enjoy them!!! actually reread them!!!! i thought "wouldn't it be cool if bkg and kirishima owned a restaurant together" and then i wrote it and i like it enough to reread it!!!! being able to create content for myself makes me. so happy

How do you keep yourself inspired? this is gonna sound narcissistic maybe but honestly i'm just really excited about my ideas and where i'm gonna take them and the idea of "i'm gonna get to That scene" keeps me going through the entire thing. also my friends!!!! i'll talk to them about fics and their reactions keep me hyped up enough to finish!!!!

What is your favorite thing to write? just,, slice of life romance,,, stuff thats silly and makes people laugh!!

What do you think your strengths are in writing? i'm good with dialogue!! i do lil voice acting sessions with myself to make sure everything sounds natural and like it's coming from that character skhjnskj

i'm comfortable with my portrayal of love as well??? i spend a lot of time thinking about what it is exactly that i'm trying to get across and i think it turns out well!!

What are things you wish you could practice more? on one hand i wanna get better at writing angst on the other hand i dislike writing angst. do you see my issue

One way you've improved your writing since you began? characterization!! i think i've gotten better at writing characters that are all Different and bring different things to the table!!! i used to project a lot more and it would compromise the characterization because the character was like 70% me and 30% them? not to say that projection is bad but if you do it too much it just,, doesn't read like the character and from a reader's standpoint the narrative can become less compelling

One aspect of writing you're still working on? writing action!!! i. literally hate writing it but i write for a fandom about superheroes so. Unfortunately i gotta learn.

A piece of writing advice you've learned while writing saw this on another tumblr post but they said sometimes if you're struggling with a scene, the problem is five lines back. i've found that to be true!!!! sometimes u gotta delete a chunk and start a little ways back!! i did this with too busy being yours because i was stuck for Weeks and i deleted like 25% of what i had but it helped me actually finish it :D

A bit of writing advice you can't stand when people shit on show don't tell for being overrated lmao bc when u read their writing you can Tell

Something you wish you knew when you first started writing? ,,,,honestly i kind of wish i could know some of the stuff that i used to when i first started writing?? technically i'm better now but creatively i was must better when i wasn't stressing about whether anyone would like what i was writing. so i guess i wish i knew that i should keep that confidence? i kinda wish that i wasn't as insecure about other people's writing styles because i never used to be!!

Something you've learned in life that you apply in writing there's no point in feeling inferior?? writing one genre isn't better than the other. being in one fandom isn't better than being in another. the kind of language you use or the length of your paragraphs- none of that stuff like. matters. what matters is that you're having fun and happy with what you're creating!!!! enjoy other peoples writing but don't let it make you feel worse about yours :D

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #390

“i am the enemy, here to save the day!”

When was the last time you woke up in the middle of the night? I do this LITERALLY every night. Do you write? (Songs, poems ect..) RP posts and rarely poetry. What is the easiest type of YouTube video to binge watch? Probably a good let's play of a game I'm really into. Do you color Easter eggs still? I haven't in years. I would if it was offered up, though. Do you prefer to decorate with pastel colors or bright colors for Easter? Pastelllll. Do you own a cross necklace? I did in the past, but I don't now. What color is your favorite pair of shorts? I don’t wear shorts. Do you prefer bright colors, dark colors, or pastel colors? Pastels. What’s something that makes you tired? Socializing. Like it's physically draining to me. Do you like drawing or painting better? Drawing. Do you own any foreign coins? No. Do you prefer soft tacos or hard? I hate tacos. Any recent purchases? My niece's birthday is coming up, so I bought her a Disney version of a board game from my childhood called "Pretty Pretty Princess." She's going to love it. :') Do you ever make mixed CD’s for anyone? I never did, no. Are you into gory movies? Yeah. Have you ever been locked in a room forcefully without anyone knowing? omg no Do you have the same color eyes as your mother? No. Do you know anyone who has overdosed? Me. Though I obviously didn't die. Have you ever been put to sleep for surgery? Twice. What is your favorite online smiley face to you? I think I use (: the most. What is something that freaks you out no matter what? Seeing babies move in their mother's stomach makes me want to shriek and vomit. Do you have any fetishes? No. Do you take a lot of photos? Sigh, not as much as I used to... I just don't know what to photograph anymore. Never leaving home doesn't help. Do you have big ears? No; I actually have very small ears, as has been pointed out to me. Do you have a laptop, desktop or both? A laptop. Have you ever met an online friend in real life? Yes! :') There are more I wanna meet. What would you say is your favorite color, out of them all? Baby pink. Have you ever attempted suicide? Yes. What are you most known for? In my real life, my art "skills." Online, probably my obsession with meerkats. Do you have a problem with body hair? Nope. The stigma of it needs to fucking stop. If you bathe yourself and keep your hair groomed, who the actual fuck cares what YOU do with YOUR body. Have you ever been so depressed, you were put on medication? I've been medicated for depression since the 7th grade. What is one thing you think is gross about the human body? Fluids like pus gross me out. Have you ever witnessed someone being murdered? Jesus, no. o_o At what age do you plan to get married? I'd like to as a young adult, but it's not that big a deal for me because I don't want kids (I wouldn't want kids 'til marriage if I did). Do you have any candles in your room? No, but a wax warmer. Ever make a friendship bracelet for someone? Yeah, as a kid. What have you been made fun of for the most? People love to pick on me always being on the computer, when I REALLY wish they fucking wouldn't. I'm aware it's an issue that I've had before I was even a teenager and it makes me SUPER self-conscious. When you’re visiting a site, do you still type ‘www.’? No; I kinda forgot that was a thing, lol. Can you still read the time if an analogue clock doesn’t have numbers on it? Yeah. To whom will/did you first talk about the first time you’ve had sex? My mom, I think. What is something you didn’t like about being thirteen? Acne lmaooo. What can you hear right now? "Girls" by Marina. It's really been jammed in my head lately. Do you think it’s okay for kids to have cellphones? Depends on the age and the phone, imo. I personally am for the idea of (slightly older) children having some sort of cell phone with limited applications, just because emergencies happen, and if I was a mom, I'd want my child to ALWAYS be able to reach me like if they were at a friend's or something. I'll tell you right now kids don't need extravagant iPhones, though. Again: limited applications, also to prevent addiction. Do you have any siblings? If so which one of them do you get along with the best? I have one brother and technically five sisters, but I know nothing of one of them. I don't really know who I get along with best...? I'm sadly not exceptionally close to any. What’s your favorite TV show? And who’s your favorite character from it? My favorite show of all time is Meerkat Manor, wherein my favorite character was Mozart. What kind of signs do you use when you pose for pictures? I usually don't make any, but I'll sometimes do a peace sign. What math subject is your favorite? Um, none? How about science? Genetics. Do you have a favorite Youtuber? If so, who? And what is your favorite video by them? Markiplier, obviously. :') Favorite video... I think it's gotta be the first video of the Dark route in "A Date With Markiplier." It's, uh, special to me lmfao. What’s your favourite Mexican dish? I just like quesadillas. Have you ever ordered a specially made cake from a cake shop? Yeah. Well I mean, Mom has. What’s the name of your first real boyfriend or girlfriend? Jason. Have you ever dated a model? No. What is your ultimate goal in life? To be happy and satisfied with what I've done. Have you ever visited someone in prison? No. What months were you and your siblings born in? I was born in February, my younger sister in April, and my older sister is a June baby. Do you write down your passwords in a physical place to prevent losing them? No. x_x Do you have any injuries at the moment? No. Are you tall, short or average? Would you change this? Average. Nah. Have you ever taken an acting class? No, not my thing. Have you ever worked in a store while someone shoplifted there? Yikes, no. Is there anything you absolutely refuse to eat? Venison. Basically anything hunted primarily for sport. If you killed something that did not need to be killed to provide for yourself, I'm not touching it. Have you ever lived in university/college campus housing? No. Who was the last person you complimented? I think my mom? She's doing great with her diet, and I can tell she's lost weight. Do you like spring rolls? Yeah, they're decent. What do you live on in terms of a street, road, crescent, place, court etc? Court. What’s your favourite type of curry? I don't know if I've ever tried any. Have you ever had casual sex? No. Not my jam. If your phone rang right now from a number you don’t know, would you answer? Nope. What was your first pet’s name and how did you pick that? My first personal pet was either my guinea pig Squeak or Chinese water dragon Shadow. I could NOT tell you why I named a green lizard "Shadow," but I called Squeak "Squeak" because he, well, squeaked, lol. How tall are your highest heels? Not high at all. What’s your favourite flavour of frosting? Chocolate. Last thing you looked up on Wikipedia? It was a band that needed a Wikipedia link to go on the Silent Hill wiki. Someone pointed out in trivia that Tears of Mankind covered a SH piece. Should guys keep their shirts on at shows? Unless there's a good reason, like you're seriously overheating, I think so. What about girls? The same as guys. I do think women should keep their bras on though mostly for their own protection because people are pigs. Do you have multiple playlists on YouTube? Yes. What is a goal that you have trouble accomplishing? Losing weight, apparently... What color is your Easter basket? I don't have one anymore. My childhood one was a light tan basket with a baby pink frill around it. What do you need to get from the store right now? Mom just got groceries the other day. What is something that you used to feel ashamed of, but now you don’t? I can't think of anything. EVERYTHING embarrasses me, so. What is your favorite part of growing older? Uhhhhhh. Are you hypersensitive? If so, in what ways are you hypersensitive? Yes, to textures in food. What’s a drug that’s made you gain weight? Paxil was the first, but I worked it all off and got in the best shape of my life. Then Abilify absolutely destroyed my body as far as my weight is concerned because my doctor was an absolute, utter fucking idiot that I will never forgive. Is there a piece of jewelry you have your eye on right now? No. Do you believe that people can be asexual? Bro the fuck, of course I do. What color is your Bible, if you have one? I don't have one. When are you at your happiest? When I first wake up and get on the computer. New day, same shit, but don't tell me that. :^) Do you prefer to spend your time indoors or outdoors? I mean, it really depends on my mood as well as the weather, but generally, indoors. Can you honestly say that you love yourself? Nope. Where did you go, the last time you left your house? My sister's house to celebrate her husband's birthday. Do you like your singing voice? Meh, it depends on the song I'm singing, but usually, no. Have you ever done a psychedelic drug? If not, would you ever consider it? No to both.

[katehuntington]

Title: Three Days Ago Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester (Sam Winchester & Castiel mentioned) Pairing: Dean x Reader Summary: Dean and Y/N finally decide to settle down. But before they do, they take on one more case, which will turn out to be their last. Warnings: ANGST with a capital ‘A’! Canon typical violence, description of blood and injury, panic, major character death, grief. Seriously, do not read in public if you don’t like crying in a crowd. Word Count: 3514 words Author’s note: Grab your tissues, hurdle up in a burrito of sadness, because this is gonna be sad. @kittenofdoomage said: “Well, that was rude,” @wingedcatninja: “HOW. DARE. YOU.” and @winchest09 asked: “Why? Why do you do this to me?” So on that note, I hope you all enjoy!

     Three days ago, you and Dean had the talk. About quitting the job, about getting your own place, maybe even start a family. It has been occasionally discussed before over the years, but always jokingly, always the sarcastic ‘as if’. Dean and you are both realists. You know you will most likely die in armor. There is no happy ending in the cards. Every time the hunters took out an enemy, new ones would arise. The war never seemed to end, you were always covered in blood and bruises, always neck deep in trouble, fighting some impossible greater power that was way above your pay grade. And so you both laughed at the idea, like neither of you could picture it, while deep down both longed for that kind of peace. 

     One time, while driving through the night with Sam fast asleep in the back seat, the two of you fantasized about living a normal life. How it would be to have a home that isn’t a bunker, with windows that would allow sunlight to peek through the curtains. A house where the floors creak and the roof tiles tick when autumn rain pelts down. Maybe a house with a porch or a deck, with a view over a lake, so that Dean could spend his retirement fishing. A house like the cute cabin in Grand Mesa, Colorado, that you spotted on a real estate website. Dean doesn’t know, but you’ve been keeping an eye on the property, feeling a hint of relief every time you went online and found it to still be for sale. Even though the chances of ever living there are slimmer than winning the lottery, you couldn’t help yourself. 

     That is, until the final big bad was defeated. All there is left now are the little cases. The little cases that other hunters would have no problem with, the little cases that aren’t worth dying for. After decades of fighting a battle against what hides in the shadows and threatens mankind, you and Dean have decided the time has come to lay down the weapons. Your hunting days will soon be over, you were finally going to settle down with the man you love. So when Dean came across a suspicious news article and convinced you to work the case, you promised yourself: one last job. 

     Three days ago, the two of you went on that final hunt, having no idea that this case would end so much more.

      “Dean!”

     The damage is done before you can blink, let alone prevent it from happening. With a gun trapped and steady between both hands, you hurry around the corner and enter a dark alley in one of the neglected neighborhoods of Chicago. The hunter you care so much for comes into view, pushed against the brick wall by the shapeshifter that’s wearing your skin. Making a split second decision, you fire two silver bullets. Both hit the shifter in the chest, one piercing its heart. When the creature turns to you, horrified, the light coming from the lamppost on the corner of the street hits its eyes, igniting them to flash abnormally bright one last time. Then the spitting image of yourself crumbles to the ground, a fist clasped around the handle of the knife, pulling the weapon from Dean’s chest. 

     Every detail is clear, your senses heightened by the adrenaline. It all happens so fast, yet you are very much aware of every detail of what’s playing out in front of you. The fresh crimson on the blade, the gasp that escapes from Dean’s lungs as the knife is roughly drawn from his flesh, your racing heartbeat drumming in your ears, triggering a crippling state of inner panic. You lower the gun, big eyes watching him in shock as he turns his head to meet your gaze. A desperate, hopeless shade of emerald green, begging you silently to catch him before he collapses.

     You start to run towards him, but his legs give out. Unable to stay on his feet Dean slides down against the brick wall, but before he tumbles over to the side, you grab him and keep him vertical. 

     “I got you. I got you now. Hey hey hey…”       You force him to look into your eyes, your hand firmly on the back of his neck, holding him upright. Damn, he took a good punch. Two nasty gashes on his brow and cheekbone allow blood to drip down his face, but the red substance that is pooling on his bottom lip and starts to drip down his nose is not just a result from the beat down. It’s coming from deep within, filling his lungs, creeping up his throat. 

     You hastily shrug off your flannel shirt, first one arm, then the other, so that you can keep him steady. After folding it into a ball, you move his denim jacket aside to witness the stabwound between his ribs. For a short second you just stare at the stain that evens out the colors of his plaid shirt in one dark tone of red, growing larger with each passing moment. The image translates in your mind, setting it in overdrive. 

     “Cas!!!” you yell up to the sky.      You know he can’t hear you, you know Castiel doesn’t have the power to heal Dean either, not at this moment anyway. Still, you hope for a miracle, looking up at the tainted clouds above, painted in a hue of purple from the city lights. You call out for the angel again, but nothing happens, and so you return your teary eyes back to the hunter. The look he returns petrifies you to a degree that it can be felt in your deepest core, because besides the mixture of fear and pain, you notice something else. Sympathy for having to leave you for good this time. Acceptance of the inevitable fate that lies before him. Then you know. Dean is going to die tonight.

     You could give up. Now that you realize all hope is lost, you could stop fighting. But you can’t. You can’t give up on him. Not now, not ever. The small voice that tells you to stop your attempt to save the man you love, causes your hands to tremble and your heart to race, but you are calmed by the strong minded will that wants to keep him alive.       “This is going to hurt a little,” you warn, before you press the bundled fabric against the injury, doing your best to stop the severe bleeding.       Dean groans in agony when you apply pressure, grinding his teeth in the process as he does is very best to keep pulling in breaths.      “I know, I know. I’m sorry. Shhh…” you hush him, pulling out your phone and dialing 9-1-1.      “Y/N… don’t bother,” he says.      “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that,” you return, stern yet broken. “We’ll do this the old fashioned way, alright? All we gotta do is get you to a hospital and they will fix this. You’re gonna be fine. You're gonna be just fine.”

     You’re not just trying to convince him as you keep repeating the mantra in your head, but who are you fooling? Certainly not Dean, who watches you with empathy as you press the cellphone between your shoulder and your ear. The operator asks what your emergency is.       “I need an ambulance! M-my boyfriend just got stabbed in the chest and he’s - he’s losing a lot of blood. You’ve gotta send someone quick,” you tell the woman on the other end of the line, trying your best to get the message across best as you can.      “Okay, m’am. Help is on the way. What’s your location?”      You quickly glance at the corner of the street, trying to find a street sign. There isn't one, but years of experience in hunting and tracking pay off. You only need a fraction of a second to determine where you are, going on observations and memory of your chase that led you in this dark and empty street.       “I'm in a back alley of N. Morgan Street, right next to the ‘L’,” you explain, returning your focus to Dean.      “I’m dispatching units to your location right now. Is your boyfriend responsive?”      “Yes. Yes, he is,” you reply. “He's conscious.”

     You observe the oldest Winchester, witnessing how the flare in his eyes slowly starts to die down. He has a calm over him that seems foreign, at terms with the inevitable. Dean, who never backs out of a fight, who keeps throwing punches no matter what, has accepted his fate. The sight causes tears to fill your eyes again, desperately clinging to your lashes. You can't let them fall. If the tears fall, you will acknowledge it. If the tears fall, you will admit that you are about to lose him.      “What’s your name?”      You snap your attention back to the operator, who tries to gain more information. For a second your mind rushes through your aliases, deciding which one to give the woman on the phone, but then Dean’s head slowly dips in your hand as his eyelids become heavy.      “Dean? No no no no. Stay with me now,” you respond panicky, quickly dropping the phone to the concrete in order to hold him up.      “Look at me. Look at me. Dean?!”      Frantically you cup his face, trying to get him to focus on you again. Your thumb rubs his scruffy cheek lovingly as you pray for him to hang on. Someone seems to listen to the request, though, because his eyes flutter open again, able to take you in once more. 

     “They’re on their way, Dean. You just have to hold on a little bit longer, alright?” you say, emotion thick on your voice. “Tell me something.”      “Tell you what?” he asks, weakly.      You shrug, because honestly, all you want is to hear his voice.      “Anything. A stupid joke, a funny story. Just keep talking to me.”      A small smile appears on his lips while thoughts form in his head. Something in his warm eyes changes as he seems to figure out what to say to you. You can tell it’s a message he needs to get across, last requests and pleas for promises.      “W - will you do me a favor? Sammy, he's gonna be devastated--”      “- Dean,” you object, knowing where this is going.      “Y/N, please let me say this,” he whispers, weakening by the second. “I'm not sure how much time I've got here.”

     You want to interrupt him, yell at him to stop talking like he is going to die. Because you still want to believe that he isn't. You still want to believe that the two of you will have your happy ending. But you let him continue, as the tears finally fall. Reluctantly admitting, acknowledging, the last spark of naivety slipping away.       The hand that is clenching the piece of clothing against the wound, hesitatingly loosens grip on the fabric. Eventually you let go completely, allowing the dam to break. Dean sighs relieved when the painful pressure is taken away from his chest and then looks into your glistening eyes. Despite his deteriorating condition his hand now reaches for yours, rubbing his thumb over your bloody skin comfortingly, then gripping it tight.

     “Promise me--” He inhales sharply, trying to get enough air in to deliver his message. “- that you will look after my little brother. Make sure he doesn't do anything suicidal... And let him look after you too. Don't go through this alone, okay?”      A burn ignites in your chest, the hurting flames firing up your throat as you lower your gaze, unable to hold yourself up. Actual physical pain, caused by heartbreak. Nonetheless, you promise with a nod.       “One other thing. Now this… this is important.”       His voice gains a little strength, drawing your eyes back to his. His pupils are dilated slightly, the darkness of the alley surrounding them this dreadful evening, but the beautiful shade of jade that has always captivated you is still noticeable. You take him in, trying to look past the blood, past the bruising.      “Promise me you'll quit hunting.” Dean pleads.

     Your jaw lowers a little as you stare at him. Not nearly confident enough to take a leap that substantial, especially now that you are going to have to make it on your own, you shake your head frantically, and look down again.       “Dean, I can't,” you resist.      “Yeah, you can,” he pauses, trying to catch his breath.      You watch him struggle, blood coloring his teeth red as it gathers in his mouth. Despite that the shadows are closing in on him, he clears his throat.      “You’re talented, Y/N. You’re capable of so much more,” he says, smiling lovingly as he watches you. “Go get that degree you’ve always wanted, buy that little house by the lake that you’ve been checking on for months now. But don't dwell on revenge, okay? Leave this life behind.”      “How the hell am I supposed to do that without you, huh?” you reply, whimpering.       “It’s gonna be easier to move on from being a hunter now that I won't be there to slow you down.”

     As he swallows apprehensively, he glances down at his hand on yours. The message shocks you at first, but quickly transforms into compassion when the true meaning of his words settles in. Moved, you run your fingers through his hair as you support his head, trying to get through to him.       “You picked me up when I was at my worst, you took me for the mess I was and you made me into a better person. So don't you dare think that there has ever been a moment in my life that you were a burden, you hear me?” you say, the words coming out strong, contradicting the tears that stream down your face.      For the first time you witness a glazed fog in his eyes, not caused by the pain he is suffering from, but surfaced by your moving words. You know he needed to hear that, because he would never be able to convince himself of that fact. The guilt doesn't leave his weary mind completely, though.

     “I - I’ve done many stupid things in my life, but you know what I regret most?” Dean continues.      You shake your head, waiting in suspense as he coughs violently. He settles, though, and you wipe the blood away that drips from the corner of his mouth.      “Not settling down with you,” he continues. “Not taking the chance that was right in front of me. I waited too long, and I - I was too damn scared to let my guard down, that I drove right by the exit…”      You hush him, trying to ease the man who carries so much on his shoulders still.      “Hey hey… It’s alright,” you say, softly. “You know why? You didn't have to take that exit. I was right there on that highway trying to hitch a ride. Look who stopped and let me in, huh?”      You smile through the hurt and Dean mirrors your expression as he blinks slowly.      “It's been one hell of a ride,” he whispers, his flooding lungs making it difficult to speak.      “It sure has,” you chuckle, trying to mask a sniffle. “And I wouldn't have missed it for the world.”

     Fingertips try to break the trail of blood that has come down his handsome face when he closes his eyes again, pulling in a shallow breath with difficulty, trying to cope with the pain. It kills you to see him like this, to watch him stall, trying desperately to stay with you for a little while longer. He’s living on borrowed time.

     “You need to know something, too,” you start, steadying him with both hands now, cupping his face.       His eyelids part again, but he can barely focus. He is beginning to weigh heavily on you and it is petrifying to see how the strength oozes from his body. As his heartbeat slows to a worrying low pace, yours speeds up. Tears have now carved shimmering lines in your cheeks as you tremble, not ready for the moment that is about to come.      “I love you, Dean. You know that, right?” you say, falling apart.      Going on fumes, he looks up into your eyes, as the corner of his mouth twitches. There is no actual answer to your insecure question, but the line parting his lips growing further into a small smile says it all. Pupils bouncing over your features, trying to imprint this image in his mind, so that he can take the memory with him to wherever he will go in the afterlife. It’s the last thing he is going to see.       “Kiss me,” he breathes, barely audible.

     You lovingly stroke his cheek with your thumb as more tears spill from your eyes. Willingly, you come closer until you’ve closed the gap between the two of you completely, pressing a gentle kiss on his mouth. You are the one who he wants to feel in his final seconds. You are his last wish.      As his lips move over yours, dwelling in the moment, you understand that this is his way of saying ‘I love you, too’. His taste that is so familiar to you, has mixed with the metallic flavor of blood, but you try not to think of that matter. Memories of all your epic moments with him flash through your mind, and God, how beautiful those memories are. 

     4th of July on an empty desert road on the hood of the Impala, beer instead of champagne, shooting stars instead of fireworks. Driving across the country for a Bob Seger concert and ending up right in front of the stage, you dancing freely and him singing along every word. The first time he took your hand in his while riding down the 101 in California, finally allowing himself to fall for you. The first time you kissed him under the traffic lights, stretching the moment until the lights turned green and the cars behind you started honking, but neither of you cared. All you want is to make more of these memories, for those intimate moments to carry on. But they will not. This is going to be the final moment you will share. So you put all the love you carry for him in this last kiss, just like you did in the first.

     You feel his last breath on your lips without realizing it. It’s only when he fails to respond to your touch, that you freeze. Paralyzed, you wait as fear of your worst nightmare coming true begins to crawl up your throat, closing it off. You slowly remove your lips from his, not ready to look at his motionless face that you still hold in your hands.       “Dean?”      His eyes are closed, like he’s sleeping and could wake up at any second, but the silence is horrifying. Frightened by what is right in front of you, your fingers slip down to his neck, desperately trying to find a pulse. You relocate your fingertips on his artery in denial, looking for a heartbeat, a breath, any sign of life.       “No no no no…” you speak again, repeating his name more forceful. “Dean!”

     Unable to accept what has in fact become reality, you shake your head as you keep holding Dean up, unable to bare feeling him slip from your hands. Desperately, you try to force him to feel your touch once more, running your fingers through his hair, caressing his clammy skin, as you whisper to yourself in order to keep calm. This is not happening. This can't be happening. This must be a very, very twisted dream. This is not real, this is not real, this is not real.

     But it is. It is real. And just like that, your light is gone.

     Your breath hitches in your throat and the confirmation hits you like a freight train. You let his lifeless body slip against your chest as you fold your arms around him, letting his head rest on your shoulder. A heart wrenching cry reverberates through the back alley. Unable to breathe you struggle to let the cool air fill your lungs, so unsettled by the loss of the man that you love, that you can’t imagine yourself ever getting up again. As sirens approach in the distance and echo between the concrete of Chicago, you hold Dean close, your tears mixing with his blood, your wailing breaking the silence.

     Three days ago, you were faced with a choice and made the wrong one.      Three days ago, you could have decided to spend the rest of your lives in peace, but you promised yourself, one last job.       Three days ago, it wasn't Dean who drove past the exit. It was you.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).

This work is written by me, Kate Huntington, and it is under no circumstances allowed to copy my work.

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[trying-write-fanfics]

Shouji Mezo X Reader part 15 remember

 It was exam season. Y/n was tasked to help make the study guides and reviews for the class while Aizawa make the class scared over the test. There were two tests, one on their skills and a written one. The class freaked out on how they were gonna study and train. Y/n got to skip teaching aid days to take her own exams. 

“How were your exams? You got to take yours before ours.” Momo asked at lunch. 

“Aced them all.” Y/n told them. 

All their jaws dropped.

“I’ve never seen you read a book for any of your classes!” Jirou expressed her shock. 

“They’re online books. During slow times I read them. Aizawa doesn’t trust me to grade your work. I’d fail Bakugo everytime, and he knows it!”

“You’ve had so much time to study, then.” Tsu said. “I’m kinda jealous.”

“A lot of it is self teaching. If I get stuck somewhere I have to reach out to a teacher or hire a tutor, but I haven’t hit that wall in awhile.” She told them. 

Once lunch was done the students and Y/n were back to class. The phone rang and Y/n answered. Apparently her middle school friends Brittany, Stacy, and Regina came to pay her a visit. Y/n gave the phone to Aizawa to update him on the situation. He knew Y/n didn’t plan it, it could have been her mother’s doing or Y/n after meeting Brittany at the store. He was keeping close tabs. They did fill out forms and contact the school beforehand. As long as they didn’t see All Might to spread rumors, it was probably safe after a pat down.

“Yeah she can see them, but they have to stay on school property. She can think of a reason if she wants to.” Aizawa said. 

Y/n was surprised about the privilege she was given, but wasn’t gonna pass it up. It was the end of the day after all. Y/n went to her dorm to change and then went to the designated outdoor spot she was given to see her friends. 

“Are you sure it’s wise to let Y/n see her friends? She’s been following your rules, but could betray your trust at any moment l, Aizawa.” Tsu said. 

“If you all are worried, you can make it a game, spy on her to see if she really is trust worthy.” Aizawa said. “She’s surrounded by cameras, but maybe you’ll catch something.”

 Certain ears of the class perked up. They were let out, but instead of going to the dorm they made hiding places to hide and spy on Y/n and her “friends”. 

 Each student who did had their own worries about Y/n. Momo worried that they weren’t as close as she hoped. That these girls would always tier over Momo even though she had felt a closeness to Y/n. Their brief childhood intertwining, and then being brought together again. Koda joined with Jiro and Momo to see if Y/n was true too her words about his old elementary school bully. Shouji and Tokoyami were a different group who did not let the rest of the class know. Tokoyami only joined to see what Shouji was up to. Deku, Urakaka and Tsu joined a group worried that Y/n was planning on escaping. Sero and Kamanri just wanted to see what the girls would talk about, maybe hear about a crush. More groups were there for their own reasons. 

 Y/n sat under the tree with the three girls. They were all a rather conventionally attractive group. It would be wrong to judge them and think hey they’re pretty, one is confirmed mean without reason (Brittany), two were unknown, and Y/n who was kinda weird, but if wanted to could probably wield her power to be a mean girl. 

“How did you know to come here, I thought you’d call?” Y/n said.

“Well miss social media cleanse I figured I’d just go to the front office. We all had half days due to exams. I thought a nice get together was good.” Brittany said. 

“I can’t believe your condition was getting worse. I know you left regular school, but I still remember you beating up Derek Jeater.” Regina said .

“Recovery girl’s quirk is what’s holding my body together.” Y/n half lied. 

“Like is this it for you? Are you gonna die?” Brittany asked. 

 All the students listening had their stomach drop a bit. These girls know Y/n better. You don’t throw around the dying question so lightly unless it was a real real possibility.

“Probably not. I’ll be fine. I’ll survive long enough to help you’re voted in student government so you can pass prom and we’ll all party together.” Y/n told her. 

“I wanted to be the one to pass prom.” Stacy said. 

“Silence bottom!” Brittany laughed 

“So if you’re chilling at U.A. what do you do all day? Are you befriending any students?”

“I’ve actually been hanging out with class 1-A a lot.”

“Shut up.” Stacy said. “Shut UP! Oh my god you’re hanging out  with celebrities.”

“They can’t be that great. I went to school with Koda Koji and he was such a-“

“He’s actually kinda been my rock through this all. He lets me chill with his bunny whenever I’m missing my cat and is a great listener.” Y/n interrupted Brittany.

“Well your cats been dead for a couple years, and you haven’t gotten over it?”  Brittany teased.

“Sometimes when I close my eyes I can still feel my cat shoving their butt in my face.” Y/n said dramatically causing the girls to laugh. 

“Any cute boys or girls we should know about.” Regina asked. 

Y/n laughed at the question though her cheeks were red.

“There is!” Stacy declared

Urakaka’s eyes widened. Y/n lied to the girls, they didn’t catch her signs she was lying but these girls did and now they were gonna get the truth!

“There is someone. It’s nothing, just a little bit. It’s too early to make a deal about this.”Y/n went back and forth on her thoughts about that.

“Make a big deal about it miss too good for a cellphone. I’ll have to come here every week just for the whole story.” Regina said.

Y/n sighed.

“What he do? Is he dumb?” Stacy asked. 

“Was it one of the guys with you?” Brittany asked. 

Y/n pressed her teeth together.

“When something happens I’ll tell you guys. I just thought he was really cool, ya know. It’s not like I’ve said anything, I maybe the world’s worst flirter too.” Y/n said.

“You might be. Remember when you had a crush on the kid who played the saxophone? You couldn’t talk to him without making dolphins noises.” Brittany said.

“Gah!” Y/n screamed into the grass rolling around. “Why do I have to have feelings? Couldn't you three marry me and then I’ll never look for anything more? I can’t deal with having a crush, it makes my heart explode more than it can take!” Y/n said.

“I’d marry you.” Regina rubbed her friend’s head. 

“It just better not be octo-arms he didn’t even make it to the final round of the sports festival and he’s 1-A student, meaning he should have beaten all those b-listers.” Brittany said. “Or that other tall guy, I heard his suit makes him look like a banana”

Tokoyami looked at Shouji when they heard the comment. Shouji didn’t give any reaction, didn’t flinch or move. It was interesting to hear Y/n had a crush on someone in the class. Shouji also expected Brittany to show off her nasty side. Urakaka listening was screaming in her head how much of a liar Y/n is for not telling the girls who Y/n thought the cutest boy in the class was. Momo felt bad that Y/n may have not trusted the girls enough for a secret crush. Maybe it developed overnight , or maybe she was jerking her friends. 

Y/n kicked Brittany in the chest. “Don’t be fucking rude!”

The girls laughed and the U.A. students were even more confused. 

“Which one was Octo-arms, I don’t remember him.” Stacy asked. 

“Does it matter? It was the bird, crazy broccoli, Shoto Todoroki and Bakugo were the ones who mattered.” Brittany said. 

Y/n kicked her friend again, twice. The girls were laughing again. The U.A. students felt Brittany deserved worse than just three kicks, but figured Y/n was doing her best not to ruin the mood after not seeing her friends in so long. It was nice seeing Y/n laugh and have her guard down. She wasn’t afraid to be flustered in front of them, or saying she’d marry her friends. They just looked so happy and relaxed. Shouji paid close attention how Regina was outing her fingers in Y/n’s (colored textured hair). The peace didn’t last long, Brittany said another snotty comment and Y/n kicked her, except after she kicked her friend, Y/n started coughing violently. Regina held Y/n upright and the two others got startled and tried helping. 

“Oh god, Y/n breathe.” Stacy said. 

“Where’s that nurse...recovery girl?” Brittany said, all worried. 

Now that an emergency was rising the students didn’t know what to do. These girls didn’t know where the recovery girl was or their way around campus at all. They were all watching her, but do they give up their position to help Y/n? Would she be pissed? Of course she would. This was her time to be herself with people who knew her. But now she was coughing up blood in front of her friends. Shouji got out of his hiding place and Tokoyami followed. 

“Oh my god, how are you not dead?” Brittany said.

The three girls were too distracted to even see the two students approaching them. 

“I can take Y/n to recovery girl since she’s having a fit.” Shouji told the girls.

 His shadow loomed over them. He was so tall, so muscular. Regina and Stacy were both intimidated by the guy. Tokoyami got to his side. 

“I know you, you were Y/n’s little body guard.” Brittany said. Little is such a inaccurate word to describe him.

The coughing got a little faint as Y/n was ready go lights out in Regina’s arms. How could Brittany be so calm while her friend bleeds next to her? Regina past Y/n to Shouji as he cradled her in his arms. 

“You’re the guy who came in third, right?” Stacy asked. 

“Did you get to meet Hawks? He’s so cute.” Regina said. 

“You two can stay and talk, I’ll go with Octo-arms.” Brittany said. 

“Make sure our little Y/n doesn’t die!” Stacy told the two. 

 This must have happened often since the girls were all calm. Shouji and Brittany were alone, as Y/n was probably out of it. Then he was sure Y/n was with what Brittany said. 

“Nice ear on your hand. You were listening weren’t you.” Brittany said. “Don’t get your hopes up with Y/n. You probably like her since she’s someone who seems like she needs saving and you wanna be a hero, but you’re no doctor.” 

“Who said I liked her?” Shouji said. 

“Your actions. You spied on us and you just came at the perfect time to save her.” She told him. 

 His eyes widened and they were there in front of recovery girl’s office. They took the girl out of his arms so quickly and then slammed the door on the two of them. He was still trying to rationalize why he did spy and care. 

“I’m gonna wait here for her to get better you know since her and I are best frenemies, what about you?” Brittany asked. 

“I’ll stay here too.”

“Course you would. Cause you love Y/n don’t you.” Brittany teased harshly. 

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I can’t imagine her coping well here.”

“Why would she need to cope?”

“She didn’t come here in her own free will I bet. From what it looks like her health seems so much worse. To have to spend her final days away from friends, family, her cat’s ashes is very depressing. Recovery girl isn’t gonna cure her is she, just lessen some symptoms.”

Shouji took a deep breath. Brittany didn’t know the truth but knew a whole side to Y/n she never showed the class. He knew he couldn’t disprove her. 

“So like with your mouth hand is it like a playing with a sock puppet?” It was phrased like a question but really a jab. “That could be your hero name, the sock hero, sock puppet.”

He liked it better when people were afraid of him. This girl wasn’t afraid of him, she’d seen his soft side and already knew there was something hidden between him and Y/n and was gonna use that. 

“Are you worried you’re gonna lose your friend?” He asked her.   

“To death not to you.” She told him. 

  Recovery girl came out to say Y/n was better, but was out of it. Brittany sighed, went in to say a quick good bye and left glaring at Shouji. Brittany gathered the other two girls and left the campus. Shouji offered to stay, but recovery girl said she didn’t know when Y/n would wake up. She had called Aizawa to let him know about the incident. Shouji did stay and Tokoyami met up with him in the room. Tokoyami told him he wasn’t use to so many questions, especially about Hawks. They even exchanged numbers for more Hawks related questions.

“How was Brittany? She seemed like a handful.” Tokoyami asked. 

“She was…” Shouji didn’t know what was the right thing to say in front of an unconscious Y/n. “...a lot.”

Aizawa came in and sent the boys back to the dorms. He claimed he had to talk to Y/n when she woke up. It was clear Y/n didn’t even have real control over her quirk and now it was going to hurt her further. So Shouji and Tokoyami returned and there their class mates asked questions.