#i had a dream where i held his hand throughout the space center last night ans gaaaaaah

[mysticalsoot]

i miss wib

[ragingbookdragon]

If All Of The Kings Had Their Queens On The Throne

Batsis x Ghost-Maker One-Shot

Word Count: 4K Warnings: Explicit Language, Slight Angst, Mature Themes

Author's Note: This is a direct continuation of the previous fic! Enjoy! -Thorne

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

When the door to The Haunt didn’t immediately open, she frowned and clicked the button. “Hey! Lemme in!”

For a moment, there was nothing, then she heard, “Apologies Miss Wayne. Ghost-Maker is busy training. Shall I alert him?”

She sighed. “Nah, just let me in and I’ll get him.”

“Of course.”

The doors split open, and she walked into the base, immediately rolling her eyes at the colors, or better yet the lack of color at all. She had no idea what spurred him to pick white as one of the main colors in everything he wore and used, but God if it didn’t make him look like a psychopath. A snort passed her lips at her little joke, and she wandered around the desk setup and through one of the curtained areas until she heard boxing gloves meeting a punching bag.

Gently tugging the curtain aside, she paused, leaning against the doorway, and watched his back. He was shirtless and had headphones in, as he usually was and did when he trained alone, and his muscles rippled each time he threw a powerful strike. She couldn’t help but watch him; he’d always been so diligent when it came to his training, and if she hadn’t known him better than she did, she would’ve assumed all he did was train. She was very fond of it though. Very fond of him.

“You going to stand there or are you going to get a set of gloves and spar with me?”

She shook herself from her thoughts to see him rounding the bag, throwing a devastating kick; she snorted. “No thanks, Ghost. I just got over having a cracked skull.” Walking over, she neared the space, but stayed just far enough that she wouldn’t get struck.

“I’m actually here to invite you over to the manor tonight.” She said, watching as his eyes flitted to hers behind the mask. “I take it you know.”

“About the little pool party Bruce throws for everyone? Yes. I keep hearing about it over the Ghost-Net.”

She smiled. “It’s a lot of fun, Ghost. You’d have fun.”

He scoffed. “What? Being surrounded by every single hero this side of the galaxy? No thank you, (Y/N). I’d rather not.”

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed the punching bag and held it, looking at him. “You’re not going to make any friends if you spend all your time cooped up in here.”

“I’m not looking to make friends,” he retorted, throwing another punch that sent shock-waves through her arms to her core. “I’m here to clean up Gotham.”

(Y/N) gazed at him. “Sure I can’t persuade you?”

“Positive.”

She shrugged. “Then you leave me no choice.” Leveling him with a strong expression, she warned, “As the newest member of the Batfamily, you have to attend the pool party. It’s tradition and anyone who doesn’t, has to take patrol routes for everyone for a month straight.”

Ghost-Maker stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her. “You’re lying.”

(Y/N) sucked in a breath dramatically, “Ghost, I never lie.” She looked to the ceiling. “Icon, run the conversations from my phone named, ‘Bat-Chat’ and tell him I’m not lying.”

After a moment, the AI’s voice came over, clear and positive. “Miss Wayne is correct, sir. Record texts have shown that those who do not attend the parties thrown by the family for the other superheroes are subject to various torture techniques.”

“What!” (Y/N) shouted. “No, we don’t!”

“You said on June eighth that your brother Timothy Jackson Drake was going to be swirlied for missing the party.”

She sputtered. “I was joking! We don’t swirly each other. We just force our patrol routes on each other.” (Y/N) glanced at Ghost-Maker. “If you don’t come, you’re going to take patrol from me, Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Duke, and Damian. You really wanna patrol all month by yourself? All that territory? Think of the time and energy it’ll take, Ghost.”

Ghost-Maker stared her down for a minute, mulling over his choices, then he finally sighed, resigned to his fate. “Fine. I’ll come over tonight.”

(Y/N) grinned. “Nope, you gotta get ready now. We’re arriving together.”

“You annoy me.” He griped, bypassing her to the doorway, and she followed him towards the stairs and to his bedroom where he entered the bathroom and got in the shower. She waited on the bed, gazing around his room while he showered.

“Who all is attending this party? That you know for sure.”

(Y/N) blinked, taking a moment to think. “Uh, all of the Justice League, the Titans and Teen Titans, the Outlaws, a few Green Lanterns…and probably a few anti-heroes but we’ll see.” She shrugged. “So pretty much everyone we interact with on a normal basis.”

“I heard Harley is coming too.”

“Yeah, she’s technically part of the family at this point.” (Y/N) said. “She’d be upset if we didn’t invite her over.”

Ghost-Maker stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and she stood from the bed, wandering in behind him as he lathered his face in shaving cream.

“Trying to show out in front of everyone, Ghost?” she joked, leaving back against the door-frame of the small cabinet behind them.

“Bruce doesn’t keep himself kempt all the time. I do,” he remarked, flicking out the straight razor; he raised it to his jaw, and she hummed warningly, causing his brown eyes to meet hers in the mirror. “What?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “I’m just worried you’ll cut yourself.”

“I’ve been shaving my face since I was fifteen, (Y/N).”

“So that scar on your cheekbone isn’t from cutting yourself?”

He gazed at her. “You know why I have that scar.”

“I do.” She answered, then leaned away from the wall, shifting until she was sitting on the bathroom counter in front of him. Taking the razor, she tilted his chin up and carefully, scraped it down his cheek before rinsing it. “I gave it to you when you called me a coward.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to hit me that hard.” Ghost-Maker replied, coffee eyes focused on her face; she felt exposed under his knowing gaze.

She chuckled. “I think that was the first time I really surprised you that I wasn’t just my brother’s twin sister following him around to make sure he was safe.”

“You can’t blame me for thinking you were. You never joined in the training.”

“I learned better watching then doing.” (Y/N) rinsed the razor and tipped his head back as she drug the instrument down the exposed skin of his throat. “Most people are fearful when someone holds a razor to their neck,” she murmured, carefully shaving his Adam’s apple.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

Her hands stilled ever so slightly as she gaped at him. Normally he would’ve said, “I don’t feel fear” but now he said he wasn’t afraid of her. She wanted to hope it was because of what had occurred the last month, her confessing her feelings, him replying that he couldn’t love her like she did him—he’d not totally ruled out caring for her, at least that’s what she saw his words being. They’d not talked about it more than that night, merely going back to work, but she could tell that Ghost-Maker’s demeanor towards her had changed a minute amount. He watched her more. Was…softer with her.

(Y/N) smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.” She rinsed the razor and looked over his face for a moment, then she grabbed the towel and wet it, gently brushing over the shaving cream still on his face. Patting his face dry, she nodded. “Looks good. No nicks.”

“Thank you,” he approved, but didn’t move, keeping his eyes on her and she couldn’t help but look down, suddenly nervous under his gaze.

Her eyes widened when she saw the expanse of his chest though and she reached up, fingers delicately tracing a jagged and raised scar in the middle of his chest. Even healed it looked angry and a bolt of sadness hit her in the heart.

“You’re sad.” He noted. For a psychopath who didn’t feel empathy, he was actually good at discerning when people felt sad—or maybe it was just because he’d known her so long.

(Y/N) nodded, whispering, “There aren’t many scars on mine and Bruce’s bodies that look like this one.” Her fingers moved to one on the right side of his ribs and she frowned. “We’ve always had someone to stitch us up, or we did it for one another. But I can’t help but wonder…” her eyes met his. “Who did it for you? Who stitched the ones you couldn’t reach and do yourself?”

Her chest hurt. “Who was there for you when I wasn’t?” she leaned forward and pressed her forehead to the center of his chest. He was so warm, and she sighed, willing herself to not tear up. “I’m sorry, K.”

“For what?” he questioned, a hand coming up behind her, palm resting against the back of her neck.

“For leaving you behind,” (Y/N) answered, deciding then to wrap her arms around his waist, turning her face so her cheek rested to his chest. “I should’ve stayed with you.”

Ghost-Maker made a noise in his throat, and she wasn’t sure if it was agreement or bitterness. “And if you had, you wouldn’t have raised your family.”

She sighed. “Yeah…I know…but even during that time I couldn’t help but wonder how your journey was going. How you and your tech were evolving throughout the years.” (Y/N) pulled back slightly and looked at him. “I used to imagine what it’d be like to be there with you. To fight beside you. To live out your dream with you.”

His hand shifted from the back of her neck to cup her cheek and he tilted her head up, leaning down to kiss her. She closed her eyes, arms shifting from around his waist to wrap around his neck and his free hand gripped her waist, pulling her against him. Ghost-Maker shifted, pressing his lips to the underside of her jaw as his fingers dipped under her thigh, pulling it up until (Y/N) got the hint to cock it around his hip.

“K,” she breathed as he sunk his teeth into her neck, biting hard enough that it had her inhaling sharply, fingers twisting in the dark hair at the nape of his neck. She felt him smile against her skin.

“What do you want?” he asked, pressing surprisingly gentle kisses to where he’d bit as the hand that was on her cheek lowered to push up the blouse that stopped at her waist. His fingers dipped underneath, rubbing against her skin and he asked again, this time firmer, “(Y/N), what do you want?”

Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she could barely think, could barely form words. “I—”

A shrill beeping startled the two of them, well, her more than him, and she finally got herself to breathe. “That’s Bruce calling.” She uncurled one of her hands from his neck to reach for the phone in her pocket, but he caught it.

“Call him back.” Ghost-Maker said, grabbing a fistful of her blouse, starting to pull up.

(Y/N) shrugged his hand off. “If Bruce’s calling, it means he needs my help.” He pulled away and giving her a look, one she met firmly. “I need to take it.”

They gazed at each other for a moment and then he harrumphed, pulling away from her, and walked from the bathroom to his closest.

She sighed and pulled out her phone, answering it. “Hello?”

Are you on your way yet? The party’s already started and everyone’s asking where you both are.

Clearing her throat, she replied, “Yeah, he’s getting his swim trunks.” She glanced out the doorway. “You own trunks, don’t you, Ghost?”

“Do I somehow give you the impression that I’m incompetent?” he shot back, and she rolled her eyes.

“Ass.” She put the phone back to her ear. “We’ll be there in fifteen.”

Be careful. Love you.

“We will. And I love you too.” She ended the call and hopped off the bathroom counter, flicking off the lights as she walked out, seeing him throwing a bag over his shoulder.

“I’m ready to be bored out of my mind.” He grunted and she rolled her eyes again.

“Oh, shut up. You’re going to have a great time. I promise.”

Ghost-Maker glared at her as he pulled the white and black mask over his eyes and nose. “And how do you know?”

(Y/N) grinned, shoving him in the stomach as she walked past him. “Because I’m going to be there all night.”

***

“See!” she chirped as he sunk into the hot tub. “This isn’t so bad.” She handed him a drink. “Free drinks, laughter, and swimming. Fun, huh?”

He grunted, sipping the margarita she’d given him. “Your family and their friends are loud.”

(Y/N) looked over his head towards the other pool, grinning as her eldest nephew threw her youngest into the pool, then turned and threw his best friend. Laughter peeled from the entire group in the pool.

“Yeah…but that’s how you know they’re having a good time.” Her eyes drifted to Bruce who was fondly watching Jason and Roy grill, occasionally laughing as one of them told a joke. “Feelin’ good, Bruce?”

He took a sip of his brandy, sinking until his shoulders were covered by the running hot water. “Feeling great, (Y/N).” he held out his drink. “Put some ice in there? Please?”

She smiled and pulled her legs out of the hot tub, and really, it wasn’t exactly a hot tub because most were above ground, but Bruce being who he was, had redesigned it so that it and the pool were both in ground and connected.

Taking his glass, she rose and wandered over to the bar where a few of her friends were pouring drinks and chatting. “Hey Clark. Diana. How are you both tonight?”

Diana smiled and raised her wine glass. “I am well, (Y/N). How are you?”

“Can’t complain.” She said. “Clark, put an ice cube in here, would you?”

He did as she asked and dropped one in with the tongs. “I’m still surprised you got Ghost-Maker here. I assumed he wasn’t going to come.”

Her eyes flicked back over to the hot tub, and she watched Bruce tip his head back as he laughed, Ghost-Maker chuckling too; she smiled. “He’d never admit it, but he’s glad he came tonight. Anti-social as he usually is, he likes being included in things.” (Y/N) smiled at them and winked, walking back over.

She took her seat back on the side in the middle between Bruce and Ghost-Maker, handing her brother his brandy. “Clark licked all over the rim of your glass, Bruce. Just letting you know.” Feeling particularly childish, Bruce raised the glass to his lips and licked all around the glass. “You’re a child.” She remarked, then glanced to her side, seeing one of the Green Lanterns coming down the way.

“Kyle!” she greeted. “Join the fray!”

The artist smiled, then looked at the men in the hot tub. “I don’t want to intrude,” he said, and Bruce waved.

“Come on in.”

(Y/N) patted the wall between her legs and Kyle walked down the steps, shifting until his back pressed against the wall and she dropped her legs over his shoulders, fingers carding in his hair. “How’s it been going on Oa?”

He shrugged, sipping his beer. “It’s good. Can’t complain too much about saving the universe.”

She smirked. “Uh huh…and what’s this about you and Soranik?”

Kyle choked a bit on his beer, coughing slightly as she giggled. “It’s uh—complicated.” He tipped his head back, resting on her thighs so he could look up at her. “What about you? How’ve you been?”

(Y/N) sighed wistfully, combing back his hair. “Ain’t nothing changin’ but the weather…and the usual telling off the men in front of you for continually betting each other who can do the more stupid shit.”

At that, Kyle’s head tipped up and he first looked at Bruce, then to Ghost-Maker who merely drank from his margarita. “Uh…who’s that?” he asked quietly, and she snorted.

“Kyle, this is Ghost-Maker. Ghost, this is Kyle Rayner, the torch bearing Green Lantern.” She smushed his cheeks. “Isn’t he adorable?”

Ghost-Maker gave her an amused puff. “He is handsome, I’ll give you that.”

Kyle was glad the water had already flushed his skin because the way the man had flirted had made his cheeks warm. “Thank you.” He glanced back at her. “Is his name…?”

She nodded. “Yeah, he takes anonymity to a whole new level.” She tugged at a strand of his hair. “Did you know that only me, Bruce, and a few others know what he looks like and what his entire name is?”

He blinked in response. “That’s…hardcore secret identity, right there.”

“That’s because he doesn’t have any friends.” (Y/N) shot Ghost-Maker a grin. “But you can call him Ghost for short. It’s easier than the mouthful of Ghost-Maker.” The vigilante in return merely rolled his eyes and sipped his drink. “So, Kyle, have any new graphic novels in the works?”

“I do actually. Haven’t written them down but here’s an idea.” He brought up his hand out of the water and a green flash appeared in everyone’s vision. “See how you like it so far?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh in disbelief. “This is so cool.” She grabbed the construct comic book and flipped through it. “Who’s the main?”

“Haven’t named her yet. But she’s a transgender, pansexual Native American who solves crimes as a superhero.” His cheeks flushed. “I know it’s ironic because we’re superheroes, but I couldn’t help it, you know?”

She nodded, seemingly impressed. “Figured out which tribe yet?”

“I was thinking possibly Cherokee. Or Mohawk.”

“I’ve got a MTF Kanienʼkehá꞉ka friend who lives in Quebec.” She said. “I’ll give her a call about working with you on this.”

Kyle lit up like the morning sun. “Really, (Y/N)? You’d do that?”

She looked down at him and shifted her thighs a bit, bumping his head. “Of course. You’re one of my best friends.”

“I love you, (Y/N).” he grinned, and she chuckled.

“I love you too, loser.”

Suddenly the speakers thumped, and her head shot up, looking towards Tim and Bart who were giggling. She pointed at them. “HEY! THIS IS NOT AN APPROPRIATE SONG!”

They merely giggled more and suddenly everyone was singing along to the raunchy song, well, the teens and young adults were but not her and the older people.

(Y/N) shoved Kyle off as she got up and ran towards the speakers. “WAP IS NOT AN APPROPRIATE SONG TO PLAY AT A POOL PARTY! THERE ARE CHILDREN PRESENT! TIMOTHY JACKSON, YOU GET BACK HERE WITH THAT IPHONE! TURN IT OFF!”

***

She smiled sweetly at her family and friends passed out in the living room, pillows and blankets thrown everywhere, arms slung over bodies, heads on stomachs and backs. It was nice to see them all so comfortable with each other, so tightly knit; it reminded her of a better time.

Most of the adults had gone home though some had stayed in extra rooms. She was sure that her brother and him had gone down to the cave to have it out just for the hell of it, but she was rather tired and decided to call it a night—though it was actually one am.

Closing the door behind her, she didn’t bother to go shower, planning to do it in the morning as she started stripping. First went the swimsuit cover, then the top and bottoms. She kicked her flip-flops off into the corner of the room and stretched her arms above her head, a quiet groan passing her lips as her joints and bones popped.

As she lowered her hands, a hand clamped around her mouth and another wound around her waist, tugging her back and she gasped against their palm, starting to struggle when she heard them chuckle. The sound, combined with the familiar smell of sandalwood wafting up her nose told her who it was, and they smiled against her ear. “Worried?”

She reached up and yanked his hand from her mouth, hissing, “You’re lucky I didn’t turn around and punch the shit out of you, K.”

“Promises, promises,” he murmured, pressing a kiss behind her ear and she shivered against his chest.

“What are you doing in here? I thought you and Bruce went to go spar?”

Ghost-Maker hummed, the hand around her waist starting to squeeze the flesh of her side. “We did. He said he was tired and went to bed.”

“And you didn’t go home?” her voice kicked up a notch when his other hand slipped from her grip and slid down her front.

“I didn’t want to go home.” He pressed his front against her rear and she gasped, one of her hands coming back to grab at his thigh, digging her nails in to keep him there. He smirked as she ground back against him. “Seems like you don’t want me going home either.”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly. “Something’s up with you tonight. You’re being a lot more…passionate than usual.”

He nipped at her neck, fingers delicately dancing over her abdomen. “I don’t like that Green Lantern friend of yours.”

“Who? Kyle?” she questioned confusedly. “Why?”

“He’s very free with himself towards you.”

At that, it was crystal clear, and she spun in his arms, looking at him, though she had to strain to see his face. “Are you jealous?”

“No.” He griped, though the way his jaw set, told her the truth.

“You are!” she laughed. “You’re jealous that I’m close with other men. That’s adorable.”

Ghost-Maker stared at her for a split moment, then he bent down and grabbed her legs, throwing her over his shoulder. (Y/N)’s gasp turned into a laugh as he marched towards the bed and tossed her onto it, watching as she rolled onto her back and laughed some more at him.

“God, you’re green, K.” she giggled, watching with hooded eyes as he shucked the swim trunks down to his feet and crawled onto the bed.

“I’m not envious of a glow-stick who’s never gotten this far with you.” He countered, grabbing her ankles; he yanked her down the bed and underneath him and she gazed up at him.

“Do you wanna know how many men have gotten this far with me?” (Y/N) challenged and Ghost-Maker stared into her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter how many because once I’m done with you, you won’t remember anyone but me.” He lowered his head, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her stomach, trailing downwards and she panted in anticipation when,

CRASH!

They started, and this time, he did too, both turning to the door, then to each other.

“What the hell—”

“OH SHIT! SOMEONE PUT OUT THE FIRE!”

(Y/N) grunted. “Oh my God, what did they do?”

“DON’T JUST STAND THERE! OH MY GOD SOMEONE CALL NINE-ONE-ONE! OR THE FIRE DEPARTMENT!”

“AUNT (Y/N)! DAD!”

She rolled out from underneath Ghost-Maker, ignoring his grabbing for her and she hurried to her door, yanking the bathrobe from the hook on the back. Slinging it on, she turned and pointed at the man. “Once I’m done out here, I’m coming back and you’re not going anywhere for a few hours.”

He smirked as he collapsed onto his back, taking himself in his hand. She almost burst into flames at the sight, and he purred, “You might wish to hurry, (Y/N). Wouldn’t want to miss anything.” His words tipped into a groan as his hand shifted along himself, and she scowled at him as she pulled the door open, his erotic frame illuminating in the hall light.

“You’d better watch it, K. We both know how mean I can get when I miss out.”

[sorryimanon]

Pairings: Bakugou x fem!Reader

Tags: 18+, dirty talk, explicit scenes, mutual masturbation, penetration, bakugou being a switch, reader is a dom, lots of back and forth between characters, slow burn

A/N: this was supposed to be divided into two parts but surprise, surprise! i got lazy :) i had so much writing this. this might be my favorite fic ive written so far! this is a loooong one. enjoy! 

P.S this is the unedited ver. I will posting the final on my AO3 account (sorryimanon)

-

Katsuki disliked her. No, he absolutely loathed her. Ever since she stepped foot into the classroom, it was destined for there to be a hostile barrier between the two of them. Granted, all she did was sweetly greet him like the rest of her fellow classmates, but Katsuki completely saw through her fading facade and ignored the kind gesture with a threatening showcase of his quirk.

"Being nice won't get you anywhere, baka," he snarled, glaring intensely at her all the while everyone watched the whole scene unfold.

He treated her like a foolish peasant after that initial encounter, disregarding her in any way shape or form as disgust shone through his eyes.

Y/N persevered the oncoming school years despite the blonde breathing down her neck consistently everyday. Katsuki's aggressive nature towards her subsided once graduation commenced, alluding to the blossoming maturity each student should have endured before branching off into hero work.

Not long after the celebratory succession, y/n bounced to several agencies that offered the same beneficial agreements for her. None caught her attention. Until one day she received a recommendation from Endeavor himself to work full time at his agency. Of course she accepted it and immediately wrote her sloppy signature down on the contract. Unbeknownst to her excitement, a separate copy of the contract was sent to another uprising hero around her age group.

So when she strutted in that morning of orientation, she never expected to see the very infamous Katsuki Bakugou slouched on one of the many chairs in the meeting room. Her throat tightened as she took a seat next to him, his height still freakishly tall even when they were just sitting. Staring straight forward to prevent from any means of eye contact with him, he lowered his head at her eye level and crooked a half smile.

"I'm gonna make you regret for even considering joining here, extra." A fleck of his spit hit the side of her face. Learning from her past encounters with Katsuki, y/n held her tongue in hopes for him to feel satisfied enough to leave her alone.

Thankfully their office hours were inconsistent to where they didn't intervene with each other, neither of them awkwardly meeting in the lobby or an elevator. However, sometimes y/n and Bakugou would desire the same craving for a caffeinated beverage and find themselves standing shoulder to shoulder by the coffee machine.

Bakugou likes his coffee black, she mentally jotted down as she intently watched his usual routine of preparing the beverage.

Like the asshole he is, Bakugou would purposely tip the mug and let a few trickles of the hot liquid burn her hand. He's done this every single time before he leaves y/n alone in the break room. Deep down, he relishes in the strained expression on her face when he inflicts the pain upon her. Thoughts danced across his head. Some involving him blasting y/n into the stratosphere to her kissing the tips of his boots for mercy. Either way, her being so submissive and, dare he say, a pussy to stand her ground sufficed him enough for the time being. But sometimes it pissed him off.

The constant harassment by the angry blonde went unnoticed by their other colleagues, including Endeavor, leaving y/n to prepare every morning to face the wrath of Katsuki Bakugou. His verbal abuse never wavered, occasionally whispering under his breath "weakling" or "stupid girl" whenever the pair were in the same room together. One time he sent her on a wild goose chase to find a missing case file that miraculously disappeared from her desk while she was copying something in the other room. Hours later, she soon discovers the said file tucked behind Katsuki's arm, snatching it from his grip and not once reprimanding him for wasting her time. Y/N eventually got used to it. Adapting to the annual insults of her work ethics and anything he could muster up from his sleeve. Both finally accepted their twisted dynamic, and became accustomed to the work lifestyle.

Months later, the dynamic soon changed when Endeavor announced an emergency meeting with everyone in the building. Apparently a new wave of villains have been reigning terror over the city, causing major damages and fatalities in a matter of weeks. Rumors started to circulate that the new generation of heroes don't have the capabilities to apprehend this group of evil doers. In the meeting, Endeavor made it clear for everyone to be partnered up before he dismisses them to patrol for the night, suggesting that pairing up with someone who is complimentary to your quirk is efficient for when dealing with these kinds of villains.

That's why y/n didn't voice her complaint when she inevitably got matched with Bakugou. His quirk alone was powerful already. With both of their quirks combined, there's no telling how the mission will go, but she surprisingly feels safe knowing he'll be sticking by her side throughout the rest of the night. It'll be a quick mission, then they'll return back to their previous mundane duties in the office. Back to Katsuki's mental and verbal torment.

"Could you move any slower?" Katsuki barked as both he and y/n were taking a quick stroll through the public park, scoping out for any signs of danger.

She was a step behind him, careful not to bump his shoulder or invade his space. She mumbled out a quick apology and fastened her pace, catching up to the man in gear. Tonight he wore his alternative hero costume, the design made specifically for when the temperature reaches an undesirable degree. The collar touched below the tip of his chin, his chiseled chest covered with the thick black material, and his arms protected from the cold with the addition of sleeves.  

"Fucking weakling..." she heard him mumble once they circled the perimeter again.

Bakugou insisted for them to scout out as many places as possible in hopes for an encounter. He desperately needs any excuse for some action, to use his quirk out of anger. Previously, they patrolled the empty plaza of Tatoone shopping center. Other heroes were there as well, but still no signs of any villains lurking in the dark. For the third time, they met up at the center of the park after making another round, both already tired of the tedious task.

"Just our fucking luck. Still no signs of those stupid villains. I guess we should patrol the outskirts of-."

A bright luminescent beam struck the middle of Bakugou's chest cavity, ricocheting him backwards to slam against the trunk of a large tree, knocking him unconscious instantly. Startled, y/n's eyes frantically searched for the perpetrator, only to meet a pair of glowing green orbs staring right back. She shifted her stance in preparation for their next attack, blocking Bakugou's lifeless body from the villains view. Another beam shot from the darkness, only this time y/n counter balanced the blow by rolling to side, the blast missing her by a couple of feet. Y/N quickly raised to her feet and ran head first towards the dark figure. Without preamble, the figure shot multiple beams at the hero, each one emitting from the void of their chest.

Y/N dodged the bright suffocating strips of light, her feet shuffling and heart racing due to the adrenaline rush. However, she miscalculated her next move which allowed the figure to strike her left shoulder when she was distracted for a split second. Pain shot throughout her shoulder blade. Eyes drawn to a close, her hand shot up to cradle the injury. The intense sensation started to spread from the upper half of her body to below. Everything suddenly became numb, including her sensors. She couldn't feel the tips of her digits nor move any part of her face. The muscles in her legs soon stopped contracting, resulting in her knees giving out. She felt the hard, coarse ground beneath her as the darkness began to swallow up her line of vision. The last thing she saw was a scuffed up Bakugou laying face flat on the drenched grass.

- Y/N stirred awake, lifting one of her half lidded eyes expecting to see the villain looming over her tired body. But all she saw was the popcorn ceiling sheltering her, an overhead fan turned on and the curtains tightly shut. She slowly inclined her body upright and peeled the covers from her clammy figure. Still in the process of waking up, she made her way to the attached bathroom by the bed and located the sink. She splashed the cold water on her face, letting the droplets drench the clothes she was currently wearing. Turning off the facet, she craned her head to view the damage on her shoulder in the mirror. But how come she couldn't recognize herself?

Tuffs of blonde spiked out from her head. Her eyes weren't the same color either. Red crimson irises replaced the ones she had before. The injury from last night on her shoulder wasn't there no more, but she took sight at how broad they became. And she wasn't wearing her typical pajama top and bottoms. This morning she was clad in a black tank top and a pair of soft sweat pants.

No, this can't be true. This has to be some sick nightmare. Jolting backwards on her heel, she let out a terrible shriek. After screaming for a good minute, she calmed down and rested her hands on the bathroom counter, transfixed on the reflection in front of her.

"I-I somehow transformed into Bakugou!" The deep timbre voice of bakugou replaced her own. She tugged on the unkept hair and knitted her eyes shut. "This is only a dream. I'm dreaming right? I can't possibly be in Bakugou's body."

A loud ringing noise alerted y/n to open her eyes again. It was coming from her bedroom. Correction, his bedroom. She glanced at herself in the mirror one more time before retrieving the phone that was stuffed in a green duffel bag. Her eyes widened. She recognized her phone number on the screen. Knowing the circumstances, she pressed answered and awaited for the receiver on the other end to speak.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"

-

"So, we somehow switched bodies because of being struck by that villains quirk the other night. How long did they say this will last then?" Y/N questioned Bakugou the following morning once they agreed to meet up somewhere in private. Right now they were sitting across from each other on a stone bench by the lake, the morning sun peaking through the tall skyscrapers behind them.

Bakugou shrugged his shoulders, technically hers, and said, "Endeavor informed me it'll probably linger for a good week. He also wanted us to not be on duty till we recuperate from this, saying that the side effects will drain our bodies." He couldn't muster up the courage to stare at her, because all he would see is the reflection of himself. "Unfortunately the villain fled the scene before the others arrived to retrieve us. They're still out there causing havoc."

"This is freaking weird."

"Fucking."

Y/N tilted her head in confusion. Across from her, Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in frustration.

"If you're gonna be me for a whole week then you might as well not sugar coat my vocabulary-dumbass."

Right, she now has to devote her time and effort into mirroring Bakugou's explosive personality. But that also means he too has to put on a show in order to persuade everyone he was her.

"Oh, okay..." she started but tensed up when realizing Bakugou was gazing expectantly at her. "D-Dumbass?"

Katsuki groaned as he rolled his eyes at her failed attempt of portraying him.

"This is going to be a long ass week."

- Bakugou grunted in disgust as he scavenged through y/n's closet for something to wear. Every piece of clothing so far hasn't met his criteria of approval to put on his body. There was an unnecessary amount of yoga pants and the most ugliest oversized graphic tees he's ever laid his eyes upon stored in her drawer. Growing up in a household of highly praised designers, the influence shifted his taste in fashion over the years. So, he made the rational decision to make a quick trip to the mall and purchase a few outfits for himself. Considering he's going to be in this body for a whole week, maybe even more, he might as well present himself looking ten times better than she ever has.

He tittered around the mall window shopping, entering store after store leaving with a handful of clothes in plastic and paper bags. So far he bought some outfits that edged a little on the fancy side, but paid no mind to his bank account. Bakugou guesstimated y/n's size during the venture, not wanting to pry or see what's underneath these restricting fabrics. He was about to leave when a frilly-pink themed store caught his attention.

It's a lingerie store, Bakugou thought as he neared closer to the entrance.

Posters inside the displays showcased attractive half naked women clad in nothing but the delicate material. Not to mention they were all posing seductively. An involuntary image of y/n flashed across his eyes, her imitating the same lustrous pose as well as wearing the sheer lingerie like the women behind the glass. Steams of heat practically blowed out from his ears, along with the embarrassing shade of pink panting his cheeks. He clamped a hand on his mouth, eyes widen in disbelief.

The fuck did I just imagine? There's no way in hell that just happened!

He must've been loitering there for awhile because a young girl, possibly his age, was standing in the threshold of the store wearing a pastel pink apron, giving him a welcoming smile.

She spoke, "Looking to shop for something, ma'am?"

Remembering back to y/n's distasteful clothing, he noted that she also lacked having any 'pretty' undergarments. It wasn't that he intentionally raided through her underwear, he just so happen to have stumbled upon the almost empty drawer by accident. In retrospect, he's doing her a favor. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Yes actually. Can you show me your most expensive set?" - "To your left! That dudes been camping by that spot since the match. He'll snipe you in the open!" Kirishima informed y/n as they both sat criss cross on the cushioned couch.

They've been playing the same game for hours. Y/N prayed for at least one water break or grab something quick to eat since they haven't moved an inch from their spots. Kirishima promised after this match he'll order some takeout for the both of them, but he said the same thing 8 matches ago. All she could do for now was pretend to be immersed in the game, getting a couple of impressive kills here and there, subsequently ranking her to a bronze level. Her digits were beginning to cramp up due to the repetitive moments of smashing down on the labeled buttons on the wireless controller. The screen across from them suddenly went dark and flashed the scoreboard from the recent match. Another successful victory.

"BOOYAAA!!!!" Kirishima clapped his hands and did a celebratory dance. "Ah, good game Bakugou."

Y/N flinched from hearing the blondes name.

"Kirishima, it's Y/N," she reluctantly reminded him.

Kirishima's whole demeanor went south. He chucked out a dry laugh and nervously started rubbing the back of his neck.

"R-Right sorry. Couldn't help myself. I mean, I am looking at Bakugou. Same face, voice, hair, and scary eyes."

After being battered by the villains quirk, Kirishima and Sun Eater were the ones to retrieve them before law enforcement shortly arrived once the perpetrator fled the scene. They were all under one strict oath to not mention this to the public, or else everyone’s image will tarnished and skew the potential of our future rankings.

"I know. I'm still trying to process this whole thing. I've been avoiding all the mirrors in the apartment since I came back." Y/N stood up from the couch and sauntered over to her designated bedroom for the week. She reached for the door handle but stiffened when a pair of hardened hands rested on her broad shoulders.

"Aye, don't worry so much. I bet you Bakugou is thinking the same thing. This week will be over before you know it," he absentmindedly began massaging the area between your shoulder blades and neck.

Does he always treat Bakugou like this despite that nasty little Pomeranian being a complete asshole to everyone?

"Kirishima?"

"Yeah?"

"What is Bakugou like around you?"

The red head hummed to himself at the random question, thinking of a perfect answer to her curiosity.

"The same how he was in high school except more tamer I guess. But I enjoy his presence none the less."

Then why does he seem to unleash his untamed feelings towards me specifically?

Y/N sighed, obviously not satisfied with that answer.

"Out of everybody, he seems to despise me more and more like it's a game," she said without realizing.

"You know how he is Y/N. He's very abrasive and blunt when it comes to other people's emotions, but deep down I know he only acts like that because he wants to present a strong image in front of everyone," he started. "He's scared of others looking down on him, I know that for sure. But I always looked up to Bakugou from the day I personally got to know him. So, I guess he just stayed by my side because of my admiration for him."

Bakugou is always putting up a front then.

"Interesting...well I'm gonna go to bed now. Thanks for keeping me company," y/n said once again reaching for the knob and opening the door, ignoring the red heads pleas for her not go to sleep on an empty stomach. -

The next day Bakugou found himself inside y/n's bathroom, feet firmly planted on the tiled floor not daring to move an inch. Even though he wasn't in his own body that didn't stop him from paying a visit to the gym this morning. He went extra hard on every machine, not caring about the wandering eyes men gave him while he dead lifted weights. Drenched in nothing but his own glistening sweat, Bakugou entered y/n's small apartment as he dragged his tired feet to the bedroom he was now familiarized with.

Something foul wafted into his nostrils, almost making him teary eyed to the stench. He tried to recall the last time he took a shower. Vaguely he remembers washing his body the morning before he got attack by the powerful quirk. It's been several days since then. This was one thing he didn't want to endure during his experience of switching bodies. He's been neglecting his own hygiene to avoid seeing y/n's exposed body parts. Changing out from her clothes with closed eyes was difficult enough, but taking a fucking shower?! Such a shitty predicament. But he can't smell like this for the remainder of being stuck in this body. He'll die of suffocation.

Ah fuck, that must mean she has to take a shower as well. Or worse, she already has and saw everything.

His eye twitched, lips trembling in fear at what he's about to witness.

Fuck it, I can't go out smelling like shit!

With shaky fingers he began stripping, eyes trained on anything but y/n's figure, the faint sound of the water streaming white noise to him. Her gym clothes piled on the floor, Katsuki slipped into the shower, head titled slightly to view only the shower head. He messed around with the chrome handle, indecisive on what temperature he wanted. Settled onto cold to awaken his sluggish state, he positioned himself under the shower head, goosebumps prickling his skin due to the sudden drop of temperature. Water droplets streamed down and canaled to his lower regions, the sensation relaxing his anxiousness just a smidge. He surveyed the options y/n had laid out for hair care products and grabbed the nearest one. Rubbing the body wash into the palms of his hands, he caught himself, arm mid raised getting ready to wash each crevice of his body.

Shit shit shit shit

The hand in front of him began shaking.

She won't know. It's not like I'm touching her sexually, I'm just keeping her clean for fucks sake!

As gentle as he could, Bakugou washed away the soapy residue, fingers cautiously ghosting over anything perking out. A moment too soon, he accidentally skimmed over her chest a little too fast, the tips of his fingers touching something that was hard and protruding. His breathing hitched.

I just felt her fucking nipple!

But fuck, it strangely felt quite pleasant. Pleasurable even if he had to admit.

He continued on with his previous ministrations, cupping her boobs like a madman and swiping one thumb over the taunt surface to test the waters. A fierce, tingling sensation surged shivers down his spine. An unsolicited low moan spurred out from the blonde.

"Hah!"

What the hell?! Why am I still touching her tits? And why am I enjoying it?

Finishing up his routine quickly, Bakugou snatched a towel from the cabinet and rubbed away all the sinful thoughts desperately from his head, a constant fight between his morals and neediness. Nobody will never know what he committed in the confines of her own apartment. And it'll fucking stay like that till on his death bed.

I practically assaulted her. I'm so fucking disgusting

For the rest of the remaining day, Bakugou planned on meeting up with Kirishima to hangout. He wanted to coerce the red head into talking about anything other than y/n. His mind needs the relief. He needs this spell to be over with.

He can't stand trying to fit into women's jeans any longer - Kirishima woke up that morning to a chorus of shrieks. Girlish shrieks, might he add. He thought maybe the neighbors were selfishly doing not-so-holy-things at the peak of dawn. But him and Katsuki were resided on the highest level of the penthouse, them being the only residents on the empty floor. It clicked once he heard his name through the thin walls.

"Ah! Y/N I'm coming!" He leaped from his bed and reached y/n's, technically Bakugou's, room in a matter of seconds.

Y/N's body twitched to the sound of the door being slammed open, the impact rattling the very few wall decorations in the blondes space. Standing in the threshold was the friendly red head, huffing and puffing air out of his chest like he just got done running a marathon.

"K-Kiri! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to wake you up!" Her words afterwards became a jumbled mess, realizing the predicament she pushed herself into.

"Hey, hey, calm down! Tell me what's wrong. It sounded like you were in pain. Did you hurt yourself anywhere?" The red had to remind himself this was indeed another person inside Bakugou's body, because Bakugou would never apologize repeatedly for the sake of apologizing in his entire life.

Y/N was looking quite pallid now, sheepishly tugging on the black covers of the bed, trying to find the easiest way on how to lay this out to her new roommate.

"Well...I just...I woke up to - ah crap."

Instead of explaining her situation, she pulled back the blanket to show kiri the thing protruding between her uncommonly, muscular legs. Kirishima's eyes widen instantaneously, eating up the pitched tent inside her basketball shorts. Oddly enough, this wasn't his first rodeo upon seeing the blonde with a boner. They were dudes. And dudes living together were bound to witness each other's 'flesh swords', he'd like to put it.

"Oh, morning wood? That's pretty normal. Nothing to fret y/n!" He dismissed her with the wave of his hand. "Bakugou gets them all the time! In fact, I remember he'd get them after sparring sessions back in our U.A days-."

"Okayyyyy, Never mind that! I know I have a boner. Just exactly how do I get rid of it?!"

"You mean, you don't know? Haven't you been taught this in Sex Ed class?" Kiri was actually curious as to why she doesn't know nor remember. He surly does. Learning about the human body by the infamous sultry teacher, Midnight, engraved so much information into his tiny-teenage brain.

"That was considered an extra curricular class. I took a CPR class instead."

"Right well, from what she taught us and from my own personal experience, you gotta rub one out."

Y/N's whole face contorted into a confused mess of disgust.

"Rub a what now?" She asked, although she had a feeling what the euphemism meant.

Kiri's face blotched red, the tint flushing to his chest as well. The man was evidently embarrassed about having this conversation with someone who wasn't Bakugou.

"I essentially mean you gotta masturbate. Ya know, in order to calm down your boner," he paused seeing how distraught y/n became. "It won't hurt I promise you! Don't worry, it feels really good! Like, eating ice cream good! Ah no that's not a good analogy!"

"This is so fucking horrifying..." Y/N poked at the thing, rightfully known as his dick, and kept starring as if it might miraculously subside to its original size.

Kiri coughed, grabbing her attention away from Bakugou's dick.

"He has lotion stashed in his drawer," he started, but malfunctioned seconds later. He revealed something private to someone that bakugou condemned as a 'weakling'. "That is if you need it for lubricant. It's kind of tough to jerk off dry..." his sentence fell off midway.

Y/N mumbled out an "Ok", and retrieved said lotion from the lower bunk of his drawers. She felt a pair of eyes on her. Kiri was still standing awkwardly by the doorway, unsure wether or not if that's his cue to leave.

"Um, thanks Kiri. You can leave now," she plopped back onto Bakugou's king sized bed.

This man sleeps alone. He doesn't need a ginormous bed all to himself.

"R-Right! Well, enjoy jerking off- ah no I meant - I didn't word that correctly! Ah geez, see ya later!" He sprinted out the door like his life depended on it.

Locking the door behind her, y/n forced herself into the attached bathroom, the lotion burning the palms of her hand each second. Once she settled down on the lid of the toilet, she shimmied out from his loose basketball shorts, letting them pool at her ankles.

If there's one thing she learned that morning, it was that being a man had its weird benefits. - "Slow down Bakugou! Let me at least catch up before you black out!" Kirishima was on his third shot while Bakugou just downed his sixth one for the night.

The blonde growled under his breath and tugged the red head by his collar to his mouth.

"Fucking idiot, don't call me that. It's y/n when we're out in public," he loosens his grip and snatches kiri's shot and tips his head back to drain it all down his throat, the burning sensation long gone.

"Ugh, my brain can't keep up with this whole switching body shit. It's been so hard back at the apartment." He internally cringes from the recollection of y/n popping her first boner this morning.

"What do you mean? Has that dumbass been giving you a hard time? If she has, I'll give her a piece of my mind."

"Not at all! She's been a saint while living with me. Which by the way, how come you can't just live at the penthouse while y/n stays at her place?

While Kirishima was talking, Bakugou ordered another round of shots. The bartender shoved a whole bottle of Fireball towards the man, saving him in the future to not ask anymore. The young server gave Bakugou a sly wink and returned back to serving other customers down the line. Cheeks flushed red, Bakugou thinks the man behind the bar was being too nice for his liking. He poured two more shots while keeping an eye on the average looking employee. If kirishima kept babbling, he might as well funnel the entire bottle in one sitting.

"I'm just following endeavors orders. We're not supposed to gain attention from those stupid reporters that camp outside our penthouse," he takes another swing of the warm liquid. "I'd rather fucking be quirkless than mistaken for having any rumored relations with her."

"Can I ask a genuine question? How come you hate y/n so much?"

"I don't hate her, I dislike her. There's a difference."

"I don't know man. Sometimes I mistaken your dislike with love."

"EXCUSE ME? IM NOT IN LOVE OF THAT BITCH?!"

"C'mon dude, I'm sensing a lot of denial from you. Also, shouldn't you be acting like her right now? She's very soft spoken if I'm not mistaken,"

"I'm not in denial idiot. I hate how soft she speaks. I hate how sickeningly kind she is even though nobody deserves it. I hate how she wastes her talented quirk and doesn't see the potential. She's a lost cause Kiri. She won't last for much longer in this field if she keeps this up."

"Wow, for someone who dislikes her as such, you surly sound like you care about heeeerrrrrr," kirshima drawled out in a sing-song voice.

"Shut up and finish your shot, shitty hair."

When the blonde was driving back to her apartment later that night, he slammed his fists against the steering wheel when an afterthought came to him.

His whole reasoning as to why he went out in the first place, and he can't seem to restrict himself from talking about the girl he's trapped in.

Even in this goddamn body I can't seem to steer clear from y/n talk! - Izuku had to do a double take when he entered the small coffee shop. Something about seeing the pensive blonde sitting patiently in a booth by the corner really made him feel like he was sucked into another dimension. Today y/n was wearing a white v-neck with a wool green cardigan and tight black jeans.

Kacchan owns cardigans? He thought, clearly amused.

Upon hearing the ding coming from the door, Y/N raised her head from her phone and waved Izuku over to her table. The poor man seemed like he was going combust right there. It's been awhile since he's spoken to his old classmate.

The green haired hero slid into the booth across from her and immediately started speaking Deku language.

"H-Hey Kacchan! Boy it's been awhile hasn't it? I was a little stunned seeing your message this morning asking to hangout. I'm sorry that I couldn't meet up sooner. I had an early patrol shift from 9 to 5. You might know how that feels, right?! Oh gosh I'm sounding like an adult. Can you believe we're adults-."

"Midor- I mean Deku, I called you up to ask about if you have any leads on the villain with the body switching quirk?" She cut him off.

"Oh yeah, that villain has been spotted a few times since the last attack. Of course most of my team hasn't been able to reprimand them. A few close calls though. But I heard two people from your sector got hit by the quirk! Are they doing okay?"

I hate lying to those big freaking green eyes.

"That's not true. They got hurt, but no one was attacked by their quirk. I just need to know if you have any information on the quirk in particular and what to do in order to reverse it."

Underneath the table, Izuku fumbled inside his pockets in search for his mini notebook. He still obtained the habit of jotting down everything, literally everything, in hopes the information will provide any source of aide. Izuku became all jittery and excited at the thought of sharing anything with Kacchan!

The small, crinkled notebook was slid across the table, hitting the tips of y/n's knuckles.

"Page 124, the first indent I wrote. It's mainly about my own conspiracy on what the villains quirk is. That was before their first debut of course. But now since we know it's a type of body switching quirk, I tried to pin point on what exactly lifts the quirks effect on the victim," Izuku explained casually while y/n skimmed through the notes and passages. "I did a little detective work on my own and contacted the people who were attacked by the villain. From what I gathered, let's just say- it's a bit taboo ."

This piqued her interest.

"What do you mean by, taboo?"

The man began to wave his hands around fervently in attempt to steer the blonde away from prying more. But y/n swatted Izuku's hand and continued reading the sloppy inscriptions.

Her eyes popped out from her sockets.

"I have to what?!" A few civilians stared in their direction, obviously gravitated to the familiar gruff voice.

"Calm down Kacchan! Why are you so angry for?"

Y/N rubbed her temple all the while wanting to slowly die than endure anymore of this.

"Nothing. Just- Ugh...Is it alright if I borrow this?"

"Y-Yeah! Kacchan can borrow anything from me as long as he returns it!" There was that gleam again in his eyes.

"Thanks Izuku, I owe you one!" She squeezed the greenettes freckled hand before leaving the booth and the shop all together.

Still in the cafe, Izuku sat frozen as if someone walked in with gun. Internally though, he was screaming. -

Y/N: Please call me. It's urgent

It was a Friday night when Bakugou received the cryptic message from her. He was in the middle of  watching his true crime show when the annoying ding from his phone went off. For once, he just wanted to relax his mind and go on auto pilot without stressing his already strained body. It's the whole principle of Friday's. To fuck off and ignore everyone. What's so fucking important for her to text him out of the blue then?

Another acute ding.

Bakugou peeked over his shoulder to see who disrupted him this time.

Y/N: Bakugou, we need to talk. This isn't something to ignore.

He rolled his eyes and retrained his focus on the tv screen.

Ding Ding Ding

"FOR FUCK SAKE!" He released an animalistic growl from the depths of his throat, scratching his voice box even more. His fingers typed away aggressively, not bothering to read her previous messages.

BK: Leave me the fuck alone. You're to only text me if it involves with the reverse of this stupid quirk 🖕🏼

Three dots appeared immediately after he sent that. Bakugou started losing his patience while waiting for her response. He hated wasting precious time, especially if there was a second party involved. Her message finally delivered. Bakugou's eyes grew larger in size as he read the text.

Y/N: that's why I'm texting you idiot 🙄 I met up with Midoriya today and he may have given me the solution to our problem.

He bit down hard on his bottom lip as he typed out his last text message to her.

BK: fine. come over then. we can talk about it when you get here.

This time he didn't wait for her to respond back and began cleaning her apartment. - Feeling nervous was an understatement. Y/N felt like she was driving herself to her own execution. Bakugou being the one to carry out the death sentence. She didn't doubt the blonde would be elated at the idea of her being put under a torture device.

Okay, maybe he wasn't too malice to actually do it, but he probably entertained the thought.

Thankfully Bakugou's penthouse wasn't far from her own apartment, saving her much needed gas in case he goes ballistic on her.

The door flew open when she arrived shortly after one knock, revealing a very sluggish looking Y/N shooting daggers at her. Well, at least her body wasn't dressed in bruises or burn marks. That's a win. Bakugou paired herself with a cute crop top and silky pajama shorts. He's got taste she'll give him that.

Her apartment remained exactly the same as she left it when they both were ordered to switch residency's.  Only a few traces of Bakugou were found. Mainly in the kitchen, where all his fancy cooking equipment and utensils were laid out. Unlike him, she ate out almost every night due to the red head being incompetent in the kitchen. He almost burnt down the complex last night. He relied upon his friend to do most of the cooking in their household.

The blonde briskly brushed passed her to sit on the couch, slinging his feet on the coffee table to make himself comfortable. Too comfortable, she noted.

"Well, spill it. What did the damn nerd tell you that could help us with this shit?" He inquired without preamble.

Like a hero, she was here on a mission. A mission that needs to be completed as soon as possible, even if the mission itself was ludicrous. She reached into her jacket pocket to retrieve the mini book, and flipped soundlessly to the page Izuku marked for her.

"On here it says that the quirk can last up to a week, maybe even more, depending on the victim(s). The effected will experience dry eyes, nausea, insomnia, painful migraines, and uncontrollable shaking due to being inside another persons body. They must let the quirk take its course then," she read out loud, ignoring Bakugou's groans of annoyance. "But, for rare cases, there have been reports of one's libido being greatly impacted. The victim will be in constant, insurmountable pain unless they relief themselves, then the two bodies will return back to normal."

To her surprise, Bakugou didn't show an ounce of indignation after hearing this piece of information. He seemed almost indifferent.

And there's no denying the truth. Both of their hormones have been off the rails. Ever since the incident in the shower, Bakugou has caught himself numerous times touching Y/N's boobs. Coping a sly feel as he cooked, cleaned, and even while he scrolled through his social media.  Sometimes her ass as well to see if it felt good in his hands. Y/N was no saint either. Sporting boners every hour for no particular reason. All the blood rushing to her lower region became unbearable when she didn't take care of it. Kirishima kept reassuring her that it's natural for a man to get them a lot. But how much was too much?

He threw his hands up in the air and scoffs. "That's it? I just gotta jack off and then we're free from this curse?"

This is the part she dreaded the most. An uncomfortable heat flash roused up her face, a deep shade of red inching across her cheeks and nose.

"No. That's not what it means. We basically have to...ya know...," she paused mid sentence, too bashful to finish, desperately wanting Bakugou to put two and two together.

She shrunk in her position as the blonde narrowed his eyes at her.

"We have to fuck each other?" He profoundly acclaimed.

"Don't put it like that! But yeah, technically, we have to...help relief each other in order to switch back."

"If you wanted to jump my bones so bad you could've just asked." He leans back against the couch, arm draped lazily over the shoulder of the furniture, along with a playful smirk tugging up on the corners of his mouth. Y/N's blood ran cold when she felt the tiniest twitch down below. Her borrowed reproductive organ is betraying her!

"Do you want to be in constant pain till this all wears off? Or do you want to get this over with and never talk to each other again?" Y/N shuffled more towards the abrasive man, a strong tidal wave of anger rising within her.

"It won't matter because you always wound up in my presence anyway. Like a fucking pest that won't leave me alone." Without realizing it, Bakugou got up from his spot on the couch and marched over to Y/N, who at the moment looked like she was about to pop a blood vessel.

Another thing he hated about switching bodies was the fact that everyone towered over him, despite him being on his tippy toes. The woman in front of him acclimated his height, giving her the upperhand if they were to battle it out right now. If anything he could kick her shins at best.

"Whatever...I'm leaving," was all she said before storming off to the front door, grabbing her things along with her as she grew farther from him.

Katsuki's legs were moving on their own. His hand reached out and grabbed Y/N's forearm, halting her movements altogether. She's clearly enraged, thrashing her body back and forth to loosen his grip on her. He eventually grew tired of her stubborness and secured his grip on both of her arms, trapping her between the door and his body, producing a loud 'thump!'. Although he was in her body, he still carried his strength. In a matter of seconds, both Y/N and Bakugou were chest to chest now, their centers tapping aganist each other.  She averted her gaze to the floor, as if their shoes were more interesting than this whole shitshow of a dilema. Bakugou squeezed her shoudlers, a little too much for her liking, to gain her attention again.

"I didn't say no, did I?" he asked hotly, his warm breath hitting her collarbones. An ice cold shiver ran down her spine, causing her breathing to hitch. Bakugou noticed her sudden stiffness and began rubbing gentle circles into the tender flesh of her skin. "Hoho, someone's excited aren't they?"

Confused, Y/N furrowed her brows and backed up further into the wooden door. But her question was soon to be answered as she followed Bakugou's hungry gaze to the prominent bludge taunting from her pants. Betrayed once again by her unstable horniness!

"Guess I'm not the only one," she accuses once spotting the definite wet stain around Bakugou's crotch. He smirked at that.

"Take care of it then," his voice oozed of seduction and want, rewarding him another twitch in your tight pants. The libido was taking full effect now, any animosity they had before was thrown out the window. Past arguments also long forgotten. Their main priority at the moment was to experience the sweet relief of coming undone.

Y/N darted her hand down to the spot Bakugou needed attention from, and cupped his crotch with her abnormally large hand. Bakugou lets out a shaky exhale as her fingers danced around the sensitive area. One of her fingers moved instinctively, feeling how drenched he was in his panties, and rubbed the underside to get a better feel of the sex.

"You're so wet Bakugou," Y/N mused softly. She leaned forward, searching into Bakugou's eyes for any signs of him wanting this to end. But the pool of his irises were blown out, no tint of your original color in them anymore. "Do you want more?"

He nodded quickly, his hair bobbing up and down. Y/N chuckled and removed her hand from its previous position to the hem of Bakugou's shorts, teasingly toying the waistband. She slipped smoothly into his shorts, tickling him in the process, and toyed with the corners of his panties before moving them aside so she could have access to the thing she's been craving to touch. Wetness lathered up her fingers with just one swipe, causing Bakugou to purse his lips and shut his eyes tightly.

"Is Bakugou embarrassed? Are you mad that I have the upper hand now? After all those years of verbally tormenting me, you can't handle my simple touch?" She whispered dangerously close into his ear. During this, she couldn't tell if he was pissed or turned on. Maybe a mixture of both, but she took pride in his strained expression.

"W-Watch your goddamn mouth. Or do I need to shut you up myself, eh?" By shutting her up, he meant mirroring her exact ministrations. The petite hand of Bakugou's latched onto the zipper of her jeans, and impressively dragged it down in one swipe without getting anything caught. He reached into the tight restraints of her boxer briefs and pulled out the hardened dick. He clicked his tongue. "Not to sound like a narcissist, but you gotta admit, my dick looks pretty."

"Just shut up and jerk me off you asshole. I'm starting to see stars," She wasn't lying to speed up the process. Her body felt like it was on fire, including her dick. If Bakugou keeps stalling for the sake of punishing her, then he's going to be seeing white for days on end.

Bakugou tentatively began pumping her, his grip not too tight nor loose on the flesh. Y/N sighed in relief as he swiped his thumb over the slit, covering his fingers in her precum. Seeing that he's giving into her needs, she returned the favor by inserting her index finger inside, not allowing him to adjust once she massaged the velvety walls.

Bakugou arched into Y/N's body, panting harshly against her chest. "H-Hah fuck, slow down. Shit!"

"Take it like a champ, Mr.Dynamight."

"F-Fuck you."

Oh no. Probably shouldn't have patronized him, because Bakugou sped up his languid motions to pure vigorous jerking of the hand. A wave of pleasure shot up through her body, jolting backwards due to the intense sensation. Of course he's a pro at this. What isn't he good at?

Bakugou rested his head onto the crevice of your shoulder since he could only reach so far, and ghosted his lips on the skin, carefully restricting himself to not engage in kissing the area. While doing so, he cupped the underside of your balls, rolling them around in his small hands. They looked so big when being manhandled in her grasp. Y/N stifled her moans as he kept messing with them, all the while stroking her simultaneously. She felt him smile. The cheeky fucker! Two could play it at this game.

Y/N used one of her thumbs that weren't preoccupied inside Bakugou to massage the only place she knew that could make him cum in seconds.  Two fingers inside, one thumb attentively on the clitorous. It was enough to make Bakugou bite down on her shoulder, trying to prevent any moans from escaping his mouth.

"Moan for me Bakugou. I know you want to," she tried to persuade him with more strokes to the clit, occasionally pinching it with her unoccupied fingers. She can feel he was close. So was she. But she needed to coerce him into helping her to finish too. They need to be a team. "Say something Bakugou. Don't you want to cum? If you don't speak your mind I'm going to stop." She couldn't believe the words that were spewing from her mouth. Y/N has never dirty talked before. Nor has she gotten this far with anyone without freezing up. Definitely the libido effect.

Bakugou detached his teeth from her shoulder and stared deeply into her eyes. Pleading.

"Go faster. Please." The want and neediness in his voice said it all.

He indeed felt vulnerable and exposed right then and there when confessing his desire, but he couldn't care less. Her fingers inside him were heavenly. A mantra of ,"yesyesyesyesyesyes", left his throat as her ministrations didn't falter.

"Fuck! Keep going. Just like that- shit - just like that... yesssss." His moans were beautiful. Not because they sounded like hers, but the way how he vocalizes his pleasure made sense in the world. Every whimper or moan puts her closer to the edge.

"Are you- are you about to?" He asked quietly, as though he was afraid you might stop at any rate.

"Yes! So close, just keep stroking," it was difficult to form sentences after that, the build up tension in your stomach tightening like a ticking time bomb, making your pleads indecipherable.

But Bakugou didn't want to hear that. He wanted to her to say those three words of encouragement.

Make. Me. Cum

And then, as if his thoughts were broadcasted live, she snaked her hands into the locks of his hair and pulled him close to where the tips of their noses touched briskly.

In a small voice she whimpers out, "Make me cum, Katsuki."

Listening to her instructions, his grip tightened around the base of her shaft and began teasing the slit, never once averting his glare from her own. Y/N's legs turned into jello. It became harder and harder to stand any longer. She needed to release. She quickened her pace and brutally scissored his pussy, the erotic sounds of their wetness reverberating in the tiny apartment.

"Cum then baby. Cum for me only."

Baby

Next thing she knew a strip of white shot out from below, dirtying the hands of Bakugou's. Her body began to spasm. Katsuki didn't loosen his grip, the stimulation becoming unbearable at this point.

The coil within him loosened, the evidence of his climax coating her fingers, allowing his orgasum to reach its full potential.

The pair blacked out for a split second, but recuperated once the light hit their corneas again.

"Shit." "Fuck." "..." "..."

Silence. Then the realization hit.

"I'm staring at you and not me! It worked! Hallelujah!" Y/N exclaimed, feeling herself to make sure it wasn't a hallucination.

"Gross. You got cum all over my expensive shirt," he said, wiping away the white substance with his sleeve.

Both of them went into the kitchen to clean the after math. Bakugou would grunt occasionally in disgust, sponging away the grime. Y/N throughly washed her hands and towel dried them, thoughts stiffly empty and vexed. She broke the awkward tension.

"Well, I guess we should call Endeavor and inform him that we switched back."

He hummed in agreement.

"And we should probably exchange our things tomorrow or tonight, but preferably soon since we're going to be on duty again."

Another grunt.

"Don't worry about me mentioning this to anyone. We can just keep whatever happened minutes ago between us-

Bakugou cut her off entirely by smashing his lips against hers. Shell shocked by his action, Y/N kept her eyes wide open whilst Bakugou's were knitted shut. She laid her hands on his chest and shoved him away harshly, putting their distance at arms reach.

"Bakugou, what the hell? All of sudden you want to kiss me?" Y/N's face fell, contorting into a mixture of sadness and confusion. "You only kiss people you like. Not hate."

Bakugou moved towards Y/N slowly, a hint of a smile forming as he neared closer.

"And that's exactly why I did it, idiot," he proclaimed confidently, cupping the side of her face. The touch was so tender and gentle she forgot that it was Bakugou at first.

"You're toying with me, aren't you? The libido is probably still lingering. If you really liked me, then tell me the exact moment you did."

Without hesitation he said, "The first day of school. When you walked in."

Y/N slapped the hand from her face, her skin flushing red by his blunt confession.

"Stop lying. You were mean to me the first day of school. And every day after that. I don't think calling people a "weakling" or "stupid" constitutes as liking someone."

All he did was chuckle and continued scooting closer, eventually towering above her. She squirmed underneath him. She secretly missed having his height.

"You're absolutely stupid if you think I really meant any of that crap. I may have gone overboard on the whole berating thing, but that was just my way of pushing my feelings away, in hopes you'd improve better and not take shit from people like me."  

"Ya know, it's kind of hard to detect that when you were practically spitting on my face."

He leaned down and pecked a chaste kiss on the crown of her forehead.

"You can call me all the names you want later. Kick my ass if ya want, but for now let me make it up to you," he whispers before planting his mouth to hers again, only this time she didn't protest.

Heat swirled within her as she watched Katsuki's eyes flutter close, enriched in the moment to open them, and gripped the base of her neck to apply more pressure into the kiss. The man guided her as he moved his plushed lips ontop of hers, consuming the pretty noises she made. And my, were they absoultey rich coming from her.

I want to hear more, the selfish thought banged repeatedly inside his lust filled mind.

Y/N nervosuly closed her eyes shut when Katsuki's wet tongue prodded the entrance of her tight, lipped mouth. Letting him take full control, Katsuki managed to enter the strong muscle into her wet mouth and explored the canvernous place with such eagerness, such tenacity. Like he's been dying to do this for as long as his skillful mind can remember. Y/N found herself moaning as Katsuki grabbed her waist and forcefully collieded their bodies together, her soft breasts pressed up against his hard chest. Her perky tits put him in a trance, remincseing back to the day when first touched them, the guiltiness eating him up from the inside-out. Katsuki slithered one of his hands to the taunt boob and gave it a firm squeeze, causing Y/N to squeak out in embarrasement. They still feel fucking amazing in his hands.

"You're so fucking cute," he drew back from her, already out of breath. Everything was hitting him like a tsunami. He can finally admit to himself that he's been wanting this since they became co-workers. Hell, since the fucking beginning. Younger Katsuki would deem him as a horny loser who lost at his own game, but he wasn't a damn kid anymore.

"K-Katsuki...bedroom?" her hands found their way back into his crisp locks, futher egging him to comply. The small action made him moan.

"Fuck yes," Katsuki growled out and in a haste hooked his arms underneath the back of Y/N's thighs, hoisting her in the air to lead them into the bedroom they're both familair with.

Journeying to her bedroom became a difficult task. If only she'd stop giving his neck, the most sensitve spot out of his entire body, kitten kisses then he'd be plowing her back by now. He grew weaker by the second as the shy, acute kisses trandsitioned into full on sucking and biting. Not that he was complaining.

Katsuki threw her down onto the bed, unable to contain his smile when she hiccuped a chorus of giggles. God, even her giggles are fucking contagious. Strong arms scooped her up momentarily, bringing her to the center of the bed. Grazing her aching spot was Katsuki's growing buldge. Y/N circled her arms around his tiny waist squeezing him closely as Katsuki rolled his hips downwards to meet hers. She seized Katsuki's bicep, whimpering, and rythmically pushed her groin towards his, the tin material of her shorts scraping the surface of his jeans deliciously. His head dragged down to her collarbones, panting softly, wetting the skin from the condesation of his breath.

"I want you so fucking bad, please," he managed to choke out in between the continous grinding.

Gaining a newfound confidence, Y/N mimiced the way how Bakugou unzipped her when they were still in opposite bodies and peeled back his briefs till his inflamed member popped out, smacking his lower belly. He cursed under his breath noticing the immense amount of pre-cum leaking from the head. As much as she wanted to lick it all up, there were other things to tend to. She shimmied out from her skimpy shorts and crop top, not wasting any time for lingering touches. But Y/N caught a menacing glare in his eyes. His attention was focused on something else. Looking down, she saw that she was sporting a sheer laced bra with matching panties. She definitely doesn't remember having these in her personal closet.

"You bought me lingerie?" Y/N tried to sound unfazed at the thought of Katsuki willingly purchasing these pretty undergarments for her. That must mean he's seen her boobs!

"Yeah? So what if I did. Your sense of fashion is nonexistent. I pitied you that much to where I bought you shit with my own money."

His face was stern, scarily resembling the times he'd be bashing someone's head on the concrete during a bloody battle. But his eyes told a different story. She couldn't quite pin point the time or place when she witnessed the same gleaming spark in those vermilion orbs, but she felt safe and wanted all in one.

So she began teasing the straps of her bra, head still in disbelief that the blonde underneath her bought it, and let the material slip off her shoulder seductively. Bakugou's breathing quickened as he watched y/n toy with the next strap. He stopped her midway.

"No," his fingers were ironically cold.

"No?" She questioned him, awkwardly frozen still on his lap. His evident boner pushing up against her sex, making her wet even more.

Numbly, Bakugou pulled up both of the straps to her bra and chuckled lightly to himself.

"I wanna fuck you with this on. It's been on my mind since I bought it," he admitted out loud.

Y/N held back a moan, his words carrying so much weight to them all the while directing it straight to her drenched pussy.

Without saying a word, y/n left acute kisses on Bakugou's neck, trailing it down further and further till she reached the leaking head of his member. He became antsy as she wrapped her petite hand around the base, fingers tracing the topography of his veins. Y/N saw the desperate look on his face and took all of him in her mouth, holding in the breath of oxygen she took before doing so. Bakugou hissed, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip nearly ripping the skin apart. This feels way better and more appropriate. He prefers her wet mouth over her fingers any day of the week.

Y/N sucked in her cheeks, allowing herself to take more of his member. The tip of his head eventually hit the back of her throat, causing her to gag and choke due to the sudden pressure.

"F-Fuck. Holy shit, keep going," Katsuki begged, tears swelling in his ducts already.

The saliva from her open mouth created a natural lubricant, making it easy for her to bob her head up and down. Bakugou's ears picked up the erotic wet squelching sounds coming from her as she kept up the brutal pace, the noise alone making him want to come undone. The sight of y/n slobbering on his dick is now engraved in his head. He let out a wanton moan when she played with his balls, recalling the memory of him performing the same ministration on himself with her beautiful hands.

He can feel the familiar sensation spreading down below, his throat constricting as the stimulation of her sucking and licking becoming too much. Before she could continue, Bakugou reached over and lifted her head by her hair.

"I can't hold it in any longer. I need to be inside you now," his voice was strained to point where it came out as a whisper.

Pushing her back gently, Bakugou latched his mouth onto hers as he spread her legs wide apart. Revealing a canal of her wetness dripping from her panties to the inner thighs. Bakugou licked his lips hungrily. Mentally slapping himself for not tasting her before she gave him head. He'll make sure to explore that endeavor later.

Lips still locked, Bakugou tugged the bottom half of her laced panties aside, strings of her glistening wetness shimmering, and positioned himself at her aching entrance. The tip of his cock teased her folds, coating it even more. He agonizingly went in slow circles, occasionally slapping her clit with it. Y/N's arms were above her head, clutching the linen sheets in anticipation. Katsuki smirked against her lips at her wrecked expression.

"Bakugou please...," y/n pleaded with her full chest. She wants to know how it feels to be wrapped around him. To be one with him. "Don't hold back. Just fuck me."

Bakugou's eyes grew darker after the demand, pure lust taking control over his body now. He sheathed into her quickly without taking his eyes off of her face. A quiet whimper left her throat when he fully bottomed out. He checked for any signs of y/n looking displeased or uncomfortable, but he got his answer when he felt her legs wrap around his torso, pulling him in as close as possible. Bakugou basks in at the sight of y/n sucking him completely, her legs fully bent back in an awkward position. He decides to pull his cock halfway out. y/n whimpers due to loss of friction but gets rewarded seconds later when Katsuki rams his cock inside again, pushing all his weight onto her.

"Oh, fuck, Katsuki!," she whines, instinctively clutching her walls around him.

"You're so tight for me huh baby? Can't help but to clamp around this dick," Katsuki sneered while pumping tentative thrusts into her.

His hands clasped both of her thighs now, pulling her towards him, urging her to move in a harmonious dance with him. Finding somewhat of a rhythm, y/n fucked Katsuki back by rolling her hips, a synapse of heat exchanging between them. Sweat starts dripping down from the crown of his forehead onto the peaks of her breasts. Lost in thought, he tipped his head forward and lapped up the remains of his salty musk, tongue expertly twirling around the taunt nipple. Y/N mewled, hands searching - reaching - for anything to ground herself, settling on interlocking her fingers with Katsuki's nitroglycerin drenched hands. She titled her head and took a whiff.

Caramel and soap

A popping sound went off in her ears. Katsuki released her swollen tit only to look up with hooded eyes, his infamous smirk on full display.

"Open your mouth," was all he said before raising one of his fingers that she was so embarrassingly fixated on moments ago. When she didn't obey Katsuki grabbed her by the jaw and shoved not one, not two, but three fingers in her mouth. Like with his cock, she couldn't handle the intensified pressure in the back of her throat, gagging instantaneously.

"Atta girl. Just take my fingers like a good bitch. Oh? You like it when I degrade you huh? Don't lie, you tightened instantly when I said that." Katsukis pace sped up rapidly, pumping into her cunt like a madman, fingers still lodge down her throat. Each thrust left her shuddering for more, his hips meeting hers to create a loud song, the noise drowning out her muffled screams.

It became hard to see now, a tunnel vision of just a crimson glow. Soon she feels herself becoming light. Katsuki grew impatient and flipped y/n on her stomach, a tiny oof rocked out from her, and inserted his member back into her stretched out cunt.

Y/N yelps as Katsuki's cock hits the sweet spot - fresh tears flooding down her flushed face, babbling nonsense into her pillow.

She caves, sobbing, "yes, yes, ohgod. you feel so good. you're so fucking good -ah katsuki!"

Looming over her trembling body, the blonde slows his harsh thrusts to a savagely slow grind. He lowly chuckles watching her writhe and wiggle her body in desperation.

"You think you can just come that easy? Beg for me to let you come!"

Smack!

A harsh sting rattled her lower back, causing her to bite down harshly on her lip to avoid showing any pain.

"Such an asshole..." y/n huffed out, oblivious to the way how Katsuki was preparing for her next punishment.

Smack! Smack!

"Not good. Ask nicely for me to fuck this pretty pussy into the mattress."

More whimpers into the tear stained pillow.

"P-Please Katsuki..." she begins, frustration growing exponentially with every word. "Fuck me. I need your cock. I always needed your cock Katsuki. Make me scream out your name when I come!"

She didn't even have time to process what she said before Katsuki enclosed his hand around her throat, forcefully dragging her writhing body to his chest, cranking her head in a 90 degree angle. Cock still warming up her insides.

"That's my girl," he said before kissing her lips again, devouring the sweet noises she made.

Her neighbors were in for a long night. - Both of their bodies the next morning faced more damage than any crusade of a patrol. Bruises painted the outskirts of y/n's body, trailing from her thighs to the divots of her breasts. Katsuki paid no mind to it, seeing how he can make a bloody lip a trailblazer look.

Even though no one wanted speak much about the issue at hand - last night was a pivotal moment for their relationship.

Because y/n wouldn't be making a fresh batch of coffee for the Katsuki Bakugou in her kitchen right now.

Because Bakugou wouldn't be lounging by her washing machine, waiting for the timer to go off so he can put her bed sheets in the dryer.

They found themselves sitting comfortably in silence - the soft whipping of car horns outside her cracked window - Katsuki blowing on his coffee before taking a sip. It all seemed unreal to her. In any other circumstance they'd be at each other's necks by now, screaming nuisances in the air. She considers this whole ordeal a ruse. But it isn't. Thank god it isn't. Because Katsuki never looked calmer or relaxed in his entire life till now. And she wasn't going to bat an eye away from this ground breaking phenomenon.

Intently watching him drink from across the table, she ponders if Katsuki liked her from the get go, and maybe just disguised his feelings with disgust towards her later on. The question will go unanswered, possibly until he confides and tells the story himself, but for now she was content not knowing the what if.

"How did you know I like black coffee?" Katsuki asks, quirking up an eyebrow at her.

Y/N takes a long drag from her mug, indulging in the sweet taste of the caramel creamer.

She smiles and says, "I don't know. Just took a wild guess."

-

[cobaincreates]

touch

warnings: freshly served smut :), oral (male receiving), 18+

count: 4k+

this is part one & wow i really did that. taglist is totally open by the way! let me know what you think!

— — —

what the hell was it about veins sticking out of an arm that had you nearly drooling? they shouldn’t be so attractive, yet here you were in a deep trance thinking about licking the prominent flexing of them in a specific forearm. you supposed it was your brain sending a slew of chemicals through your body, making your heartbeat spread from your chest to your fingertips. the longer you stared at the tiny mounds, the quicker the thrum of your heart spread to your center. science wasn’t really your strong suit, so you didn’t dare try to knit pick the core reason you were feeling a little (very) hot (and bothered).

if you could push down with the pad of your thumb at the peak of the vein, you’d most likely be grossed out, but it’d be intriguing to see it bloom back to its original place. you’d feel the warmth underneath the buttery skin, maybe even feel the pulse of a heartbeat. god, what you’d give to just—

“y/n?”

you jerked, eyelids fluttering as you processed where you were and why sarah was holding a large bowl out to you. the contents were leafy greens with pops of orange and yellow peppers. a few cherry tomatoes poked from under the blanket of lettuce. right, you thought, dinner. on the cameron’s boat. where you’d been for the past seven hours.

“you okay?” she asked slowly as your hands moved to life to take the bowl from her.

“mhm,” you hummed and picked out a good amount of salad to have. you then placed the tongs back in the bowl and held it across the table. catching sight of those veins from earlier, you swallowed thickly and flicked your eyes to a very interesting pepper.

“thanks.” sarah’s brother said as he lifted the weight from your hands. you swallowed again and sat up straight as the sounds of silverware scooping from dishes continued. once everyone had what they wanted and a conversation had started, you dove into your salad like it was your last meal on earth.

you stole a few glances directly across from you, your eyes skimming over rafe’s skin under his light blue t-shirt. it wasn’t helping that he was moving, making the veins pop more whenever he used his muscles in his forearm. you busied yourself with your food and nearly choked when rafe caught your glance. you thought you were being sly and not obvious in your stare, but you caught a glimpse of that tiny little curve at the corner of his mouth as he chewed.

you’d known the camerons for some time now, thanks to your parents mingling once you moved to the island. you had sparked an instant joy to having sarah cameron as one of your best friends and you loved her so much that it hurt even worse when you finally met her older, very infamous brother. it was like you’d been struck by lightning. you were left with a sensation you couldn’t quite put your finger on. sometimes it felt like the jolts of electricity whenever you caught his eye.

you weren’t in love. you knew that much. you were just very, very attracted to rafe. a perfect example would be your ridiculous obsession with the veins in his arms. god, why were they so addicting?

“what are you girls up to tonight?” rose, sarah’s stepmother, questioned from beside you. you chewed the food in your mouth, not quite tasting it as you waited for sarah to answer. you honestly had no idea what you planned to do during your sleepover.

“probably junk food and rom-coms.” sarah answered easily.

you were fine with the suggestion; it was usually what you two did during sleepovers. sometimes you’d sneak out to meet your friends at the boneyard, but it had been months since the last kegger and you weren’t exactly fond of the memory. maybe sarah would ditch you for a secret rendezvous with john b again, which would leave you in her room all by yourself. you could imagine yourself spread out on her floor, listening for soft shuffles in the hallway, and looking for rafe to come through the door. you shifted in your seat, coming back to reality on the cameron boat.

“when are we heading back?” wheezie asked, looking at ward at the head of the table.

“are we boring you?” rafe asked, causing your attention to shift from the youngest cameron to the oldest. and sexiest.

“i have plans tonight and to be honest, i'd much rather be anywhere but here.”

“you weren’t dragged on the boat. you had a choice to come just like any of us.” sarah said.

you looked at her then gauged wheezie’s reaction. she just sighed and sank into her seat. you pushed around a few noodles from the pasta salad rose had made earlier this morning.

“we’ll head out as soon as everyone is done.” ward said, reaching over to pat wheezie on the back of the hand.

sarah, wheezie, rafe, and you were on cleanup duty while ward prepped the boat to head back to tannyhill. you stacked all the dishes and brought them over to sarah at the sink in the makeshift kitchen. wheezie was on drying duty, leaving rafe to take care of the leftovers and cover all of the dishes back up. you watched for a moment as he picked up one of the dishes that was nearly empty and threw the rest out in the trash. you held your hands out for it to bring to sarah and he smiled at you.

“rafe!” you looked up at the sound of ward’s voice floating from above then over at rafe. “come up here please!”

rafe brushed his hands off on his thighs and moved around the table. “can you cover the rest?”

“sure.” you nodded and reached across the table for the pasta salad. a hot warmth appeared on your waist as rafe brushed past you, his hand touching your skin. you swallowed as the contact sent a whole heatwave through you and watched his back as he walked out onto the lower deck, his shirt brightening under the sun. going back to covering the food up, you turned around to bring them to rose who brought over the cooler. just as you did, you realized that rafe touching you had no correlation between needing to get by. he had perfectly enough space to do so in the dining area and kitchen. nothing was blocking his way.

—

“i'm really upset that i didn’t get to witness rob lowe in the 80s in person. like, really upset.” sarah whined with her hands over her eyes.

“he had no right with that hair and that stupid earring.” you said, arms crossed with a pout on your face.

“and that jumpsuit!” you both cried in unison then laughed loudly. st. elmo’s fire had been a whirlwind of emotions, strictly from rob lowe’s appearance. it just wasn’t fair to be born so late.

“okay,” sarah said as she snuggled further under her covers. “i'm exhausted.”

“no follow up with the outsiders?”

“say hi to rob lowe for me. night.” she said and turned onto her side with her back to you. the tv was still rolling the credits before you stopped it and got out of her bed to change the discs. you weren’t ready to sleep just yet. maybe seeing dally would coax you to dream of greased up characters played by actors who were now twice your age.

given that it was only eleven, it was too early for sarah to be going to sleep. usually she was all for staying up until three and munching on popcorn or playing a board game with dice. you knew she was only falling asleep early because john b had texted her about an early morning date he wanted to take her on. it was so disgustingly cute how quickly she wanted to sleep after reading his words. so while she fell asleep, you tried to focus on ponyboy and his dyed blonde locks instead of the veiny-armed off-limits cameron across the hall.

obviously, you failed. by the time it was nearing two and you already turned the tv off, you still weren’t tired. the ceiling wasn’t moving closer to you or providing any interesting details as you continued to stare up at it. your heart beat rhythmically throughout your body as you thought about the instance of rafe touching you today. you closed your eyes and felt his warm hand on your waist again, but then you felt it moving all over you. sarah made a small noise in her sleep as rafe’s hand was gliding over your stomach.

your eyes opened, his hand disappearing, and a huff leaving your lips. you looked toward sarah’s door, shut tight and separating you from her family, from her brother. you covered your eyes and rolled away from your sleeping best friend. you peeked through your fingers, looking where you last placed your phone and debating on sending an innocent text. maybe you could pretend you meant to send it to someone else. but maybe rafe would find it weird since you didn’t have a texting history with him. no, it would be too obvious.

rubbing your face, you sighed again and sat up. you needed a drink of water. the glass that sat beside you was empty from earlier and you and sarah had exhausted all the stashed drinks from your earlier preparations.

closing her door quietly behind you so you wouldn’t wake her, or anyone for that matter, you breathed a little easier and found your way to the stairs. about three steps down, you noticed a faint light from the ground floor, but you guessed it was a nightlight just in case anyone like you came down, looking for a snack or drink.

the tiled floor was crisply cold under your feet, sending a shiver up your bare legs and eliciting goosebumps on all exposed skin. you wound your arms across your chest for some semblance of warmth.

the chill you felt two seconds ago reappeared as you entered the large kitchen and found the source of the light coming from the fridge. it wasn’t a nightlight like you thought.

rafe stood there illuminated by the light, very shirtless and sweatpants hanging very low on his hips. you swallowed as you watched him munching on something.

“hey,” you whispered quietly so you wouldn’t scare him.

he looked over, stopping mid-bite. “hey. you okay?”

“yeah. just came to get some water.” you held the glass up as proof and stepped carefully to the sink installed in the island. rafe had a slew of condiments spread out on the countertop and you glanced over them curiously as you filled the glass. he had made himself a sandwich, the other half not in his hand sitting on a plate beside you. just as you turned the water off, his hand appeared and slid the plate over.

“you hungry?”

turning slightly and placing your hip against the island, you knew you needed something to lean on from the way he looked right now. as if you hadn’t just been thinking about him upstairs, it all came rushing back.

“don’t you want it?” you asked, taking a shaky sip from the glass.

rafe shook his head and swallowed his next bite. “i'd rather you eat it if you’re hungry.”

you looked away from him and picked up the sandwich, taking a small bite. rafe reached into the fridge and pulled out the pasta salad. fishing for a fork from the silverware drawer beside you, he leaned his elbows on the island and pierced a few noodles. you looked away from the muscles in his shoulders and took another bite in silence.

“it was nice having you on the boat today.” rafe said without prompt. you stopped chewing as you gauged his expression. “did you have fun?”

it was difficult to answer when he was looking at you as if you looked stunning in a tank top and sleep shorts. it was two in the morning. you should’ve been sleeping. but your heart leapt at his question.

“i did.” you nodded once you swallowed the next bite. you then thought about his hand on your waist and felt those shivers all over again like someone had opened a door behind you, letting the wintriest winter air in.

you decided on one more bite even though you weren’t hungry at all and now you were feeling rather nauseous with the way your stomach was rolling and leaping and doing all kinds of things. all the while, your heart started to beat louder in your chest. your fingers pulsed. rafe pushed off the counter, trapping the fork in between his lips to hold as he closed the container and put it back in the fridge. it was darker once he closed it, taking away any light so you couldn’t watch him as closely.

but once your eyes adjusted, you watched rafe come closer. you pressed yourself up against the counter, knowing that he needed to get to the sink when he took the fork from his mouth. you picked up your glass, taking a generous gulp. the water failed to distract you as rafe’s hand appeared on your hip, his chest brushing against you as he put the fork in the sink. your skin was totally exposed to his since your tank top had ridden up. you let out a shaky breath into the glass, your eyes closing momentarily until his hand disappeared and he stood next to you.

“why do you keep doing that?” you asked, your voice shaking a bit but you hoped he didn’t notice.

“doing what?” he busied himself with cleaning up the countertop. you stared at his back as he opened the fridge again.

“touching me.” you said. he turned to grab the packaged cheese, opening the drawer to drop it into. it annoyed you that he wasn’t paying attention or giving you all of his attention. “you’re either doing it just because or you’re trying to tell me something.”

rafe closed the fridge and gave you a questioning look. “you don’t touch people, rafe,” you clarified.

“how are you so sure?”

you wanted to groan about him playing dumb with you. why couldn’t he just tell you?

“because i've known you for a while now, at least i think i do, and i've never once seen you touch someone else.” rafe picked up the dish with your half the sandwich on it and tossed it into the trash. you stepped back so he could reach into the sink to leave the plate there. “so, what is it?”

“isn’t it obvious?” he questioned, frustrating you even further. you were getting confused, getting off track of trying to figure him out. you wanted to pull at your hair. why did he have to be mysterious all of the sudden?

���what do you want from me?” you questioned, hoping you’d get to the bottom of it. sure, you had ideas of what his answer would be, but you weren’t going to do anything until he told you himself.

your mouth nearly dropped open when he took your glass and downed a long sip. becoming angry, you reached up and took the glass from him, splashing a bit of water on his face from the sudden movement. he held in a laugh, water still in his mouth.

the grin fell from his face as you wedged yourself between him and the countertop. you knew you’d only done it out of frustration from his lack of answer. he was driving you crazy. rafe stared down at you, moving his hips away from yours very noticeably while his hands found your waist for extra measure. you looked at him almost daringly, trying to egg him on.

when he stayed put on his decision not to say much, you found your hands appearing over top of his. they were warm on your waist and under your palms. the hammer of your pulse started to feel like a cartoon character was taking a mallet and whacking as fast as they could to your insides.

you couldn’t describe how it felt touching rafe’s forearms finally after stressing over them hours earlier. if you had stayed a little while longer, you might have felt his own pulse through the vein. instead, you wanted to learn the contours of his biceps all the way up to his shoulders.

“this would be a lot easier if you just told me what you wanted.” you whispered like you’d done when you first walked into the kitchen.

rafe’s fingers dug a little deeper into your skin and his hips hovered over yours like they weren’t even there. you swallowed thickly and watched your fingers run down his chest, his torso that flexed faintly you thought you missed it like missing a sunset change color. rafe stayed still even as you traced his jutting hipbone down into his sweats. you lifted your eyes to his, finding his lips parted and slick. you licked at your own, watching his eyes never leave your face as you felt him through the fabric of his pants. he let out a shaky breath. his hips moved ever so slightly.

you stroked him once, painstakingly slow from the soft lift of his eyebrows. his eyes nearly slipped closed when his forehead sank to yours. it was as if he was so weak, he couldn’t stand to be touched. it made the mallet in your chest hammer harder.

the second time you stroked over him, tightening your grip a little, rafe let out a noise and shook his head softly against yours.

“what?” you prompted.

rafe removed a hand from your waist to catch your wrist. “not here.” he squeezed out and pulled away reluctantly before tugging you along.

you watched his back, taking in a few shaky breaths. you focused on controlling your breathing as he opened one of the french doors that led out onto the wrap-around porch. the air was cooler than the one you just shared with rafe. it was refreshing as it helped you relax. you heard a few chirps of the insects and the bloats from a few frogs somewhere closer to the marsh.

rafe led you over to the patio furniture. he sat down in one of rose’s white wicker chairs, creaking under his weight. he tried to pull you with him but wasn’t expecting you to sink down to your knees in front of him. he sat up in confusion, his hands resting on your shoulders as he watched you reach for his sweatpants. you needed them to come off, or at least be pulled down. you needed to taste him.

rafe’s hands slipped from your shoulders as he leaned back so you could tug his pants down. you bit your lip rather harshly as the sight of him. the whacking continued and sounded louder in your ears. you wanted to cry out of joy and laugh ridiculously at the vein running up the underside of him. you had to swallow to control the salivating, like a kid anticipating chocolate cake for breakfast.

the moon wasn’t even out, but you could see rafe’s arousal on his tip. you reached for it, wrapping your hand around him like a blanket. rafe heaved a breath.

“is this what you wanted?” you asked him, running your thumb over him and collecting the warm liquid.

rafe groaned. “oh, fuck. yes.”

you rubbed his thigh as your other hand moved over him slowly. the hairs tickled under your palm as you brought it all the way up and settled over his hip. you rubbed your thumb over him again, eyeing that vein that seemed to be taunting you now. rising higher on your knees, you looked up at rafe’s expectant and waiting gaze.

“tell me, rafe.”

you drew your lips between your teeth, waiting patiently for him to speak. he looked down at you between his legs and held back a moan as your hand moved over him. “i want you to suck my dick. fuck,” he panted in anticipation. “i want those pretty lips wrapped around me. please.”

you breathed in deeply with excitement, careful not to show it so you didn’t blow your cover of how badly you’d been wanting to do this. would he think it was ridiculous?

lowering your face closer, you dragged your hand to the base of him and pressed a kiss to his tip. you coated your lips with his arousal and wondered if he was coming undone at the seams. what did you look like, between his knees, on your own? you saw his hands reaching to grip the armrests at the precise moment you stuck your tongue out, finally tasting him. it was an innocent lick, probably showcasing just how anxious you were to have him in your mouth. but once you had that initial first taste, you were gone.

“oh, fuck.” he repeated, his chest heaving. you licked him again then traveled down the length of him in open-mouthed kisses. feeling that vein against your lips sent a large wave of shivers to your core. you hummed in delight to yourself without realizing until rafe’s hand appeared over yours on his hip. catching his eye at the right moment, you tilted your head upright, flattened your tongue on the underside of him, and licked all the way up that delicious vein. rafe’s face screwed up in agony, but you weren’t even done yet.

taking his tip between your lips, you applied the slightest bit of pressure. you swirled your tongue, moving your hand around him at the same time. “shit,” he said as his hips flinched off the chair in return, rutting into your mouth further. his fingers appeared at the side of your head, pushing into your hair. “fuck, baby, keep going.”

you did as he said, closing your eyes and willing yourself not to choke. you were unsuccessful as you gagged and recoiled off of him.

“go slow,” he coaxed and loosened his hold on your hair. your cheeks began to burn from the embarrassment. rafe rubbed soothingly into your scalp. you tried to relax; you didn’t want to stop now just because you couldn’t take all of him. you breathed through your nose and concentrated on taking him slowly. you took a little past his tip, sucking your lips around him. the second time, you took a little more and licked back up that vein.

“good girl,” he praised, reminding you that he was there and that you were doing okay. the phrase alone sent ripples down your spine.

minutes later with rafe’s grip on your hair not hurting anymore, he rutted his hips and pushed himself into your mouth. you took him, quite surprised at your ability to do so, but it felt good.

“y/n, i'm gonna come.” he gasped. the new opportunity had you rolling with determination as you moved your mouth over him. he groaned louder and for the first time, you thought about his sleeping family inside. god, what if you were caught? what if someone had already heard everything?

the possibility edged you on to go faster, to make rafe explode into your mouth. you then thought about tasting him, all of him, about how you’d have him in your system. it seemed weird almost, but you didn’t care as you listened to him coming undone beneath you and felt his fingers in your hair. he swore left and right just before you made your own noise, surprised, when he finally did come undone. he spilled into your mouth, coating your tongue. you slowed your movements over him, helping him through his high as his chest heaved.

you sank back onto your legs once you parted from him. you licked your lips, swallowing, and wiped the corner of your mouth. it was almost criminal the way you had the dark to hide your grin, like it was an accomplice. you looked up at rafe still lounged in the chair and felt another heatwave at the sight of him glistening in his lap. what you wouldn’t give to have another go.

“fuck.” he sighed to himself once he caught his breath. “where are you going?”

you looked down at him when you stood, adjusting your shorts. when you saw how he was looking up at you, you wanted to do everything you could to just crawl into his lap and stay there, to have the sun never come up. instead, you knew tomorrow had to come. “to bed. i'm tired.”

for a second, you pleaded with the universe to have him ask you to sleep with him. you wanted to walk upstairs hand-in-hand and close yourselves in his bedroom. you wanted to lay down under his covers, to have him touch you until the sun came up. but you knew you couldn’t risk that all in one night. you could wait, only if he wanted to.

⭐️taglist of beauties & babes!⭐️

@tovvaa​ @fttayla @dontjinx-it @moniamaybank @drewstarkeygf @cheshirecat107​ @jjmaybankzz​ @obxcunt @honeyyhemmings @dvakat @macey730 @twinklelilstarkey @disrecpectful @prettylilwolf-blog @jjcanloveme

[inknopewetrust]

Manipulate Me

Summary: As Peter travels Europe as a normal kid, the world’s peril throws a wrench in his plans. With you by his side chaperoning the trip as an undercover S.H.I.E.L.D agent, the mysterious introduction of Quentin Beck leaves you breathless. 

Pairing: Quentin Beck/Mysterio x Fem!Reader 

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: None! 

A/N: Thanks so much for requesting this @mrs-blooooom​ ! I had a great time writing for Quentin Beck again. For context, reader is Peter’s older sister but also happens to be a shield agent (it was the easiest route of explanation as to why she would be meeting with Fury and Maria Hill). Requests are currently OPEN and you can check out who I write for in my request guidelines tagged in my bio. Thanks for reading! :) *gif not mine* I do not own any of the dialogue from the film. 

“May-” 

“-And don’t forget the passports! Oh! The passports!” 

“May!” 

May stopped scrambling around the apartment only to find that you had the two passports already in your hand. The tired aunt pushed her disheveled hair out of her face, pushing her glasses back up her nose, and slowly calming down. It was fine... Peter had you, Peter had all his friends, Peter would be fine in Europe. 

“Everything is going to go fine. I’ll be with him at all times and if he decides to wander off and do his Spiderman stuff––well then I’ll just have to call in some Avengers to stop him.”  

“I trust that you’ll be able to keep him out of trouble if it comes down to it.” May picked up Peter’s suitcase off the floor and listened to his heavy footsteps draw down the hallway and into the living room where you had gathered with her. 

“All ready?” He asked with those inquisitively wide eyes that reminded you so much of your mom. May handed him the suitcase but not before capturing the boy in a tight hug. Her “motherly” instincts grew since she returned from the blip. It was strange without the two of them. You, stuck here in New York without a leader in either Fury or Tony and the remaining members of S.H.I.E.L.D, Avengers and then the developed Sword, were left to pick up the pieces and build a life without them. That was the most difficult part. 

“Promise me that you won’t get into any trouble?” May asked Peter who in reply rolled his eyes with a chuckle. 

“It’s just a school trip. Besides, Y/n is going to be there and I’m sure she’s told you a million times that she can keep me in check.” You smacked the side of his head but he just ignored you and turned to the door, opening it with a rough pull with his spider-y force. 

“We’ll see you in a few weeks, May!” 

If you were able to take back all the words you said and never go to Europe, you would ask Stephen Strange to reverse time. 

Venice was a mess. The water-creature-man-thing...? had erupted the small city into a chaotic terror with locals and terrified students trying to find cover. Peter was somewhere flying with webs while another hero whom you had never seen before was assisting him. After a few minutes of trying to guide a group of students to safety, you secured cover underneath an awning in front of a store. 

“Ms. Parker! What do we do!?” Flash was almost in tears from fear which you couldn’t help but judge. It was water? the kid survived Thanos’ snap so he could survive this. Not to mention Fury would have your ass if any of the kids died on your watch. 

Out of nowhere the ground started to fill up with water and cracking of concrete or bricks began echoing throughout the small courtyard you trapped them all in. The green man came swooshing in with a cloud of smoke, almost like an illusion, and stopped the water with the sheer force of his magical abilities. The creature reformed into what looked like a water man and the green man dodged the attack with made the sound of bricks tumbling increase in intensity. Suddenly, the tower to your right began crumbling and you pulled as many students as you could closer to the building you sought shelter next to. 

“Get back! Get back!” 

“Who is that guy!?” Jason, one of the students shouted out but you couldn’t answer the question because you didn’t know. 

“I don’t know, but he’s kicking that waters ass.” Brad voiced exactly what you would have said. 

The green man continued to fight the water as the tower crumbled beside you all and then, like the blink of an eye, the monster was gone and the water scattered, soaking your shoes with a safety that was much welcomed. The man landed to sounds of cheering from the students and locals that found themselves in the same spot as you. But something was different. 

Maybe it was the fact that you couldn’t see his face, or maybe the fact that you had never heard of this hero and you literally worked for the agency that worked with them all. Maybe he wasn’t from this world? Space? Another universe? You could have sworn that you heard of the idea of a multiverse. 

But maybe it was the fact that beneath all that smoke and mirrors that made up the helmet of the mysterious man, it felt as though when he looked around at his admiring fans, his eyes trained on you, staring through your soul with some feeling that wasn’t welcomed or unwanted either. Intrigue, that’s what it was. And when he flew off, everyone was left with a curiosity that sparked a great debate throughout the entire world. Who was this man? 

Well, the T.V. at the hotel identified him as Mysterio. Peter managed to make it back in one piece which you were able to celebrate in a brief moment outside before the voices of interested students and the television interrupted the moment. Betty and Ned were searching every website for some kind of clue but nothing other than what the news reported was to be taken as fact. It wasn’t aliens, it wasn’t witches, it was just another hero. 

So that was what you went with. That was until you opened your door to Fury sitting in a chair next to the window. 

“Oh my God!” You shrieked and Fury laughed, laughed, at you. 

“You scare too easy.” 

“What are you doing here? I thought you were in spa-” 

The slight reveal of a green hand made you shut up. "Fury” tilted his head with a slight “Ah, well.” 

“Is this about that Mysterio guy?” 

“We’ve got him at a site. Says he’s from another Earth and that these creatures destroyed his own and intend to destroy this one too.” 

“Another Earth? So, the multiverse.. it’s real?” 

“Fury” didn’t respond to that, but he simply rose and gestured over his shoulder to the window. 

“There is a car outside. Go and wait in it while I go get Peter. The big man told me I need to scare the kid.” You smiled at the thought as the man left to go retrieve your brother. 

You had been part of the world of superheroes far longer than Peter had. You had been there when Loki first attacked New York way back when and that seemed like so many years ago. With the blip, it seems like an entire eternity. Nick never let you in on his secrets of his relationship with Carol Danvers, but you had met the Skrulls when you went on a mission three months ago to visit Monica Rambeau in space. Unlike her, you weren’t blessed with some badass powers, though she didn’t always have them. 

Peter looked terrified walking out to the car and when he saw you inside, he breathed a sigh of relief that he wouldn’t be alone. The site of S.H.I.E.L.D in Italy wasn’t far from where you had all taken up residence for the last day or two, but it was secluded, down in the catacombs of old buildings that no one would suspect. It reminded Peter of a Mission Impossible movie that you had watched with him before the two of you left for Europe, he felt more like a spy than a superhero in that moment. 

As you walked behind the two down the long corridors of the abandoned treasure that was used as a make-shift S.H.I.E.L.D, you were surprised to see Maria at a computer, though now knowing about Fury, you were sure it wasn’t even her. The center of the room was filled with scattered agents who you weren’t familiar with and then a projection in the middle of the room, along with the man without the helmet. 

You weren’t one for fawning over men. Jesus, you worked with Thor sometimes and while you were aware of his Godly looks, you never gawked. But this man, he wasn’t a God, he was just naturally beautiful. Dark hair, blueish-gray eyes that surely did pierce your soul, and a stature of a man who knew how to carry himself with power in the world. It was like he walked out of your dreams and into reality. 

“This is Mr. Beck.” Fury introduced you and Peter to the man. Mr. Beck approached Peter with a small smile and held out his hand. Peter looked nervous but responded with his own shake. 

“Mysterio?” 

“What?” 

“It’s just what my friends were calling you.” 

“Well, you can call me Quentin. You handled yourself well out there today. I saw what you did with the tower. We could use someone like you on my world.” 

Peter looked puzzled but Quentin looked behind the boy to you. He held out his hand with another smile which you returned. Maybe there was a shock when you touched hands, but you were sure it was just your imagination. 

“Y/n Parker, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.” 

“It’s good to meet you, Y/n.” 

“Likewise.” 

Did time rush by faster when you were in the presence of someone you were obviously attracted to? Yes, because before you knew it, the night was over, and Fury was leading you and Peter back out to the car. Peter was absolutely smitten with Quentin and could hardly break conversation. The man gave the attention to Peter like Tony did. It was like life imitating itself in another time. Quentin reminded you so much of Tony. Smooth with words, handsome, gifted in almost an unfair way, and he took an interest in the last piece of close family you had. You wanted nothing more than for Peter to have a figure in his life to give him a positive purpose. With Tony gone, he’s struggled trying to find his niche again. 

“See you, kid.” Quentin looked disappointed but hopefully that his and Peter’s paths would cross again one day, even with Peter trying to avoid being identified by his class or the world. At some point, someone would figure it out if they hadn’t already. 

“Yeah, see you.” Peter said as he walked out, following Dimitri, who Fury ordered to keep Peter in check with you. You were more than capable of doing it yourself but for some reason, Fury felt the need to send another agent. 

“Good luck, Quentin.” You told him and he nodded his head, glancing at the holographic map of Venice next to him. 

“I fear I’ll need it. But I’m hopeful that the good luck will be for more than just winning this fight.”

Swoon. That’s what you did for the remainder of the night and into the early morning. You couldn’t sleep a wink after the revelations that Quentin relayed to you and Peter about the elementals. That worried you too. How in the world was Peter supposed to sit by while other heroes with indisposed and couldn’t help? Sam and Bucky were on their own missions, Carole and Monica were off, Stephen and Wanda were no use and Thor was off on his own adventures with that team of riff-raffs from space–you know, the one with the talking tree. 

But somewhere in all the jumble of thoughts, the scenery of the canal that had been a scene of something far different, calmed the noise. Enjoy the trip. This was the first time in years that you had traveled for something other than work and yet it was still filling every thought and moment. The thoughts were so loud and invasive that you didn’t register the person coming up to your right, ready to take the bag off your shoulders. You felt the tug and turned around, ready to punch the person but they dogged it, pulling it off your shoulder. It was a game of tug of war for the bag, but the person was strong. 

“Let go! I said let go!” You pulled as hard as you could, therefore the bag came flying back to you and its contents spread across the sidewalk. The person glanced at the wallet on the ground and then back at you before you both dove to the ground. They grabbed it first and you tackled them to the ground. Wrestling with grunts and yells, you hadn’t noticed the audience of one that rushed to help. A blast of green light shot the person off of you and you clutched the wallet to your chest tightly, trying to reel in your ragged breath. 

“I heard yelling from my hotel...” The hero started only to realize that it was you and with a turn of your head, you had realized it was him, Quentin. 

“Oh! Are you alright?” He extended a hand, which you readily took to stand. He then helped collect the scattered items and put them back in the now ripped bag before handing it back to you. 

“I’m fine. Thank you.” 

“It’s no problem.” There was a brief, awkward lull but you weren’t sure what else to say. 

“So, do you always wander around at night in a city you don’t know?” It was an icebreaker, a line that he knew would make you at least chuckle. 

“No... I just had a lot on my mind. What you told us in there–it’s a lot of information to retain.” 

“I’m sure an agent like you could handle it though.” You smiled bashfully at the compliment. Quentin gestured over his shoulder and shoved his hands in his pockets. You realized he wasn’t wearing his uniform anymore but just a pullover sweater and some dark jeans. How he shot the green light in the first place you didn’t know, but all heroes worked a little differently you suppose. 

“Would you like to take a walk? I promise I won’t try to steal your wallet.” 

“How do I know I can trust you?” The conversation was so light, and carefree that for the first time in a long time, you felt like a normal person. Quentin returned your cheeky smile and began walking. 

“I’m pretty sure a woman like you could figure out who trust and who not avoid. Isn’t that what they train you for? Agents?” 

“I suppose so, yes.” 

“Can I ask you something?” You asked Quentin and he looked at you with a nod of his head. 

“How did you know the elementals would turn up in our Earth?” 

“Intelligence. My wife, she had worked for our version of your agency. Before they came to destroy our city, one had already manifested itself in Mexico. It was as if there would be a pattern to follow. So when she passed, I used her intelligence to figure out where they might be, which led me here.” 

“I’m sorry for your loss.” 

“Thank you, it’s been some time now. She would be glad to see Peter helping me, and you helping out with the cause.” 

“Peter really took a liking to you. I could see it in the way he could barely contain himself.” You laughed, changing the heavy subject to one more light. 

“He’s a good kid. You’re related I assume?” 

“My little brother.” 

“You should be proud of him. He is doing a lot of good for the world. I just wish he was more confident in his abilities to realize identity protect isn’t everything.” 

Quentin was right, it wasn’t everything. But it was more than identity for Peter. It was also no Tony to lead the way, his want to be a normal kid, his need to have friends and well, MJ to like him. But neither of you would know what it was like to be a teen hero, that was a lot of unneeded pressure. 

“It seems that I brought you around full circle.” The sound of Quentin’s voice broke the silence and the realization that you were outside the barely standing hotel. You sighed and tugged the bag on your shoulder. 

“Thanks for saving the day, Mysterio.” 

“Anything to help protect Agent Parker.” 

If you hadn’t just met him a few hours ago, you would have asked him to come upstairs but that was far too forward for the world you created for yourself, so you extended your hand as he had earlier. 

“May our paths cross again.” 

He grasped your hand tightly and agreed. 

“Hopefully under better circumstances.” 

You watched then as he walked away, unaware of the man underneath the facade of Mysterio. How he already knew who you were, knew all your secrets, and was ready to manipulate you to take down the institution that denied him success so many years ago. 

[eideticmemory]

the day | matthew gray gubler

In which Matthew is a pisces and you’re a writer.

Word Count: 1.6k.

Warning: Tooth-rotting fluff that I cannot believe I actually wrote. Featuring ‘Lover, you should’ve come over’ by Jeff Buckley, if you wanted to listen while reading.

Matthew never wears his airpods.

They sit there, charging on his desk, all day long, all week long. He doesn’t wear his airpods. You know that, it is a fact. They’re trinkets, decoration, a little bit of a flex, but, Matthew never wears his airpods.

So, the question is: Why the hell has he had them in all week? Every hour, of every day — those little, white airpods hung from his ears like an aura of isolation.

It must be revenge, you thought. It must be his way of coping with the ridiculous amount of time you spend in his office. Alone, putting pen to paper. Initially, he’d peek his head in every once in a while, after you’d been of a bit of a writer’s bender, just to remind you that he loved you. That he was proud of you.

Yet, when it’s your wedding vows sitting on the desk, waiting to be written — when you need him to come in, give you that sweet smile and tell you how much he adores you . . . he’s wearing his airpods.

Matthew never wears his airpods. Your fiancé nevers wears his airpods. And for such a small thing, it’s starting to freak you out. Because one week before your wedding is not the time to do this. Not the time for distance, and insecurity. Not the time for Matthew to be walking around the house, constantly, wearing those fucking airpods.

He coasted his way past the office doors, your eyes following his figure like a light. You trained in on his ears, the white specks clear and visible as he walked right by you. Once he was out of your sight, you released a frustrated huff and set your pen down atop your note pad, put your face in your hands.

You sighed, spoke in a sad and quiet voice, “Matthew Gray . . . what the hell are you doing?”

You didn’t see him at all the day before your wedding. He facetimed you that night to say goodnight, that he loved you, and he would see you Saturday. His voice was so soft, so genuine, so full of love. And all you could focus on was the airpods hanging from his ears.

“I’m ready to marry you, Matthew Gray,” you said. “Are you ready to marry me?”

His face transitioned to a gentle, ever so slightly confused, expression, and he replied, “Believe me . . . I’ve ever been more ready for anything in my life.”

You smiled, “Then I will see you at altar.”

He grinned, “See you at the altar.”

You had stars in your hair. Little clips in the side of your head that made your eyes sparkle. As you were dressed and assisted throughout the big day, you held a crumbled, jumbled, scratched up piece of paper in your hand. It wasn’t perfect, hell, you weren’t even sure it was good. But it was honest, and it was loving, and it took you months to write. Your biggest project yet, if you must say so yourself.

At last call, you were alone, staring at the words as if you didn’t already know each one by heart.

“[y/n],” your friend called. “You ready?”

And, not for the first time, you crumbled the paper up between your fists. Crushed it, smushed it. Threw it to the ground, looked yourself up and down in the mirror. Glitzy, glammy, gorgeous. Dressed in ivory — not white, wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.

You exhaled, whispered, “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

Your hands shook. From the start to the finish of the aisle. You sought comfort in Matthew, never taking your eyes off him. But damn, if he doesn’t look so good that it’s nerve racking. He held your small hands in his palm, told you that you looked beautiful, with tears threatening to roll down his face, already.

He’d insisted not too long ago that you be the first to read your vows. Just the thought made you tremble, anxious at the vulnerability, and the hundreds of eyes and ear waiting to hear what you’ve got. Matthew noticed this, and put his hands on around your forearms.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Hey . . . just talk to me.”

You did. You held his eyes on yours, you recited your poetry, you silenced the entire building. Only pausing to inhale shaky breaths, and to wipe the tears from his face.

“And I love you,” you choked on your words. “And I thank you, so much, for showing me what true love is, Matthew Gray. Thank you for being . . . the absolute love of my life.”

Matthew could only reply would a somber laugh, wiping away the excess tears from his face. “Whew . . .” he breathed out. “Wow . . . how the hell am I supposed to follow that?”

The space erupted in soft laughter.

Your own laughter included.

The two of you were formally introduced as Mister and Misses Gubler, surrounded by a wave of applause within the reception hall. Matthew raised your bound hands into the air, proud, joyful. He had you, he finally fucking had you. Until death do you part.

He left you centered in the middle of the dance floor, illuminated by the soft light, as he made his way upon the stage, located right in front of you.

“Hi, everyone,” he waved. “I’m Matthew Gubler, I’m [y/n]’s husband —“

You laughed along with everyone else, who hooted and hollered at his declaration.

“Thank you, thank you . . .” he smiled. “Thank you all for being here, for supporting [y/n] and I, it means so much.”

You tilted your head at him, his focus finally being directed at you once again. “[y/n] . . . my love . . . I’ve waited forever for this day. Forever. And if you will do me the honors, I’d like nothing more than to dance with you . . . to have our first dance as husband and wife to — to a song that I first heard when I was fifteen. To a song that . . . I’ve been listening to ever since we first met three years ago, a song that . . . has been on repeat in my head in preparation for this moment, right here, right now.”

As you held your hand out for him, gentle guitar flowed from the speaker, though it wasn’t any riff that you recognized. Matthew joined you in the center of the dance floor, pulling you close as you whispered, “Matthew Gray . . . what are you up to?”

“I’m dancing with you . . .” he smiled, setting his hands tightly on your waist, your arms draped over his shoulders. “I’m serenading you.”

Looking out the door,

I see the rain fall upon the funeral mourners.

“Parading in a wake of sad relations, as their shoes fill up with water,” Matthew sang, gently.

“Oh, he’s singer, too,” you giggled.

He chuckled, “Shut up — Maybe I'm too young, to keep good love from going wrong. But tonight, you're on my mind so, you'll never know . . .”

Broken down and hungry for your love,

With no way to feed it

Where are you tonight?

Child, you know how much I need it.

“Too young to hold on, and too old to just break free and run,” setting your head on his shoulder, you let him sing in your ear. “Sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun , much too blind to see the damage he's done. Oh, sometimes a man must awake to find that, really, he has no one.”

So I'll wait for you, and I'll burn,

Will I ever see your sweet return,

Or, will I ever learn?

Lover, you should've come over,

'Cause it's not too late.

Matthew’s grip tightened around your waist, his long arms engulfing you in an effort to get closer to you, closer than humanly possible.

Lonely is the room the bed is made,

The open window lets the rain in,

Burning in the corner is the only one,

“Who dreams he had you with him . . .” slowly, your husband, your husband, looked in your eyes, “My body turns, and yearns for a sleep, that won't ever come.”

“It's never over,” he sang to you. “My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder . . .” following the words with a small kiss to the top of your shoulder. As if in immediate response to the words, and the physical touch, tears began to pour down your face.

“It's never over, all my riches for her smiles,

when I slept so soft against her.”

“It's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter.”

“It's never over,” and these lyrics, he sang with your face in his hands and his lips touching to your forehead. “She’s the tear that hangs inside my soul forever.”

You sobbed, pulled him closed, nuzzled your face into his neck, held on for dear life to the back of his head.

But maybe I'm just too young,

To keep good love from going wrong.

Oh lover, you should've come over.

I feel too young to hold on,

I'm much too old to break free and run.

Too deaf, dumb, and blind,

To see the damage I've done.

Sweet lover, you should've come over.

“Oh, lover, I've waited for you,” when he said this, it wasn’t a melody. It was spoken, softly, soulfully.

“Lover, lover, lover, lover, love, love, love, lover, you should've come over . . . ‘cause it's not too late . . .”

Every word.

No stumbles, no stutters, no faltering.

Matthew never wears his airpods.

But when he does, it’s for a good reason.

[entishramblings]

The Restricted Section [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: hey guys! sO I ended up getting like super into this one-shot and it got a little off track but I feel as if it still matches up to the request! Also I do lowkey mention some “first age lore” but I pulled it out of my ass.....just go with it tho it’s fanfiction lol

Request: Anon — I've been seeing your AMAZING writing pop up on my dash and I love it!!!! If you're not too busy (and no pressure at all to write this in a timely manner), could you possibly write a short one-shot of Legolas' reaction to unexpectedly finding someone sketching him? Bonus points if the sketch is really good, and EXTRA bonus points (and digital cookies!!) if he secretly has a crush on the person sketching? Again, no pressure!!!

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is Greenwood’s library archivist. Legolas comes to do some research. goddamn why does this summary sound dirty??

Word Count: 2,840

Warnings: none

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

Being Greenwood’s Archivist for the thousands upon thousands of treasured papers, scrolls, and books did have its perks one could say. (Y/N) not only wanted to be immersed in the secrets and stories of the world, but she was required to. She spent much of her time reading and cataloguing—not that she minded considering the knowledge she had obtained was vast and fruitful. Furthermore, she was basically permitted to do whatever she wished given that she only had to give reports to the King every couple of weeks. This left her with much appreciated free time.

Currently, the Greenwood castle was hushed as every elf was sound asleep, basking in their own dreams and memories, well...almost every elf. (Y/N) was wide awake. Her favorite time of the solar cycle was the silent hours of the night; because, here in the darkness of the sky, there was nothing more enticing than being alone in the vast silence of written secrets—especially when no one was around to catch you sneaking a peek in the restricted section.

(Y/N)’s preferred spot in the library was a very specific little nook for a handful of reasons. First of all, it was lined with tall shelves filled with different volumes and ledgers that created a private and secluded feeling. Furthermore, the lucky position of these paper-filled towers allowed for a clear eye-line to the main area of the library—an eye-line that could not be seen from outside the special little cranny. This, of course, was perfect for handling prohibited materials. Lastly, she was adjacent to a large stone fireplace where light and warmth were compelled to pour into her form. (Y/N) appreciated this, especially during the coldness of the winter months.

So here Greenwood’s Archivist sat, curled into a dark cushioned armchair within a shrouded crevice of the Library, sketching the forbidden monsters from first age lore.

The faint scrapping sound of charcoal against yellowing paper faded into the crackling of the flames while (Y/N) skillfully manipulated the material in her small, leather-bound, sketchbook. Every so often, she would pause to take a sip from the tea cup that she placed on one of bookshelves. The flavor of the warm liquid melded into the woman’s mouth; the taste of ginger and cloves folded around her tongue and initiated a warm sensation throughout her body. She really did feel at peace in this moment, cloaked in the secrets of the night.

However, that tranquility was reshaped into alarm at the sound of the large wooden doors creaking open. (Y/N) stopped her sketching and cautiously peeked through the shelves. Her lips parted and her brows furrowed when her eyes rested on the intruder.

What could the Prince of Greenwood want from the library at this hour?

(Y/N)’s eyes widened when yet another thought crossed her mind.

What would the Prince of Greenwood do if he saw a book—a restricted book—in her grasp?

Quietly, the archivist tucked the dusty green volume under the armchair and turned her sketchbook to an unmarked page. But, before she started sketching something new, her curiousness compelled her to watch the Prince.

(Y/N) smiled softly as Legolas’s calloused hand gently stroked the leather spins of every book as he strolled through the aisles. His brilliant blue eyes wandered across each title, clearly searching for something. His dark brows furrowed when he reached the end of the shelf, apparently not finding what he had been looking for. The Prince continued weaving his way between stacks of books until he was directly on the other side of (Y/N)’s shelf.

The young woman held her breath as her heart pounded.

What if he caught her in here?

She inwardly chided herself. Why would she—the archivist—get in trouble for being in the library? This was her domain, her job. Her anxieties were completely unrational.

(Y/N)’s frantic thoughts froze when one of the books began to slide away.

Still unaware of her presence, Legolas opened it to read the text on the first page. It seemed that he was content with his selection for he turned on his heal. The Prince made his was to the center of the library and sat down at one of the tables that was lit with candlelight.

After a couple moments, (Y/N) quietly stood up and walked towards the shelf. She laid her hand on the now spacious gap. The young woman frowned. He had taken a book on forestry—the sickness index. Was there something going on within the trees of her home?

Deciding to push her concerns aside, for now that is, she snuggled back into the comfort of the armchair.

From her position she was able to see the elvish prince clearly.

A little grin stretched across (Y/N)’s lips. She picked up her charcoal once more and began to sketch the outline of his form. As time went on, she shaded in the curves of his jaw, the bend of his lip, and the scowl upon his brow. It was coming together quite nicely.

She did not know how much time had past, but when she looked up from her sketch Legolas was gone. (Y/N) tilted her head slightly in confusion.

She was just looking at him.

He wouldn’t leave a burning candle and opened book unattended, would he?

The sound of paper-filled leather sliding from the shelf behind her made the archivist turn quickly. The person on the other side had sensed her movement and peaked through the hole where the book had previously rested.

“My apologies, Archivist (Y/N). I knew not that you were here.”

The young woman stuttered out a response, “Oh um, it is alright, My Prince. I....I...was just—

A smirk pulled at his pink lips when his gaze landed on her open sketchbook. “Is that me?” He questioned.

(Y/N) cheeks began to heat as she slammed the sketchbook closed, “No.”

He raised an eyebrow before walking around the tower of books that was between them.

When he entered the tiny nook he looked around at her set up—stacks of many books and ledgers piled high upon the floor, a thick blanket dangling off the armchair, and a hot cup of tea upon one of the shelves.

“I almost forgot about this space. It’s quite cozy with the fire, is it not?” He said.

Legolas made his was towards her and gently held out his hand. Nodding at the leather-bound sketchbook, he spoke, “May I?”

She couldn’t exactly refuse the Prince, now could she?

Wordlessly she passed it to him.

Ever so carefully he began to flip through the pages—birds, horses, forestry, flowers, creeks, pillars, stones, and, of course, people. There were a handful of sketches of elves that he recognized as maids and servants—likely her friends, he guessed. Additionally, there was a fair amount of pictures of the guards and even one of his father. The coroner of his lip pulled upwards again when he found one of himself, and another, and another. His expression then changed to surprised amusement at what looked to be a demon. Strange. He shot her a playful look and by her reaction he was sure she knew which sketch he was looking at. Legolas continued studying the charcoal art pieces until he turned to last marked page—to the one she had just completed: him.

“These are quite good, (Y/N). Have you ever considered abandoning the library for art?”

“Well, no. It is just a hobby of mine, I suppose.”

He nodded and handed the sketchbook back to her, “And the demon?”

“Ahh yes....um, well....”

She glanced down at the floor as she stuttered. Anxiety flashed across her eyes at the sight of the corner of the green volume peaking out. She kicked it under the chair quickly.

However, her action did not escape the observation of the Prince. Yet again, he raised a brow.

Legolas knelt down and tugged the book out. He read the title aloud, “First Age Index, Volume IV. Morgoth’s Experimentation.” A deep chuckle escaped Legolas’s chest, which of course was not the reaction (Y/N) had been expecting. The Prince spoke again, clearly entertained by the situation. “Let me guess—from the restricted section.”

“Of course not!”

Legolas stifled a laugh. “(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?” She responded while avoiding his gaze.

“You are a terrible liar.”

The young woman looked up at him, “I—I am not!”

Legolas rolled his eyes. However, the playful expression faltered and his face instantly melted into what looked to be a sudden realization.

He swiftly stood up and tapped his palm against the cover of the book. “Does the restricted section have lore on earth sickness and forest disease from the first and second age?”

“I—erm...I haven’t been in the restricted section, My Lord,” she stammered.

He shook his head, “Again, (Y/N). You are a terrible liar.”

She sighed in defeat before speaking reluctantly, “It does.”

“Take me to it.”

The Archivist led him towards the gated shadow-ridden corridor and stood still.

Legolas offered her a sideways glance.

She sighed; now her days of browsing the forbidden knowledge were over.

(Y/N) pressed her finger against the lock and slammed a closed fist on the latch. It instantly creaked open.

The Prince’s eyes shown with amusement but she just shrugged and stepped through the gate.

He was enjoying this way too much.

They walked into the circular room; light poured in from a high window, showing the dust dancing through the stale air. (Y/N) led him straight to the section he had requested. She then began to pull out books, ledgers, and scrolls; placing them in Legolas’s arms until they were piled high to his chin.

The two then exited the restricted section and (Y/N) locked up the gate once more.

Legolas then followed the young elven woman towards the table he had previous occupied. The Prince carefully set the overflowing stack of knowledge down. He opened one of the books and skimmed the beginning index before speaking.

“Ada (father) did not believe me when I said something has been stirring in our forest. My senses pick up a darkness nearing for the trees have gone silent and the animals run west. Yet, the insects increase—specifically the spiders.”

She frowned.

Interesting. Interesting indeed.

The archivist rocked on her heals for a moment, contemplating asking the question that persisted in her mind. “So, does this mean I am not in trouble for reading the restricted section?”

Legolas shrugged, “What Ada (father) doesn’t know, can’t make him angry. Besides, this is too important.”

(Y/N) hopped up onto the table and sat with her legs dangling over the edge. She grabbed a book from the pile and began reading.

What was making their forest sick?

.....

Legolas and many members of the guard had just arrived back in Greenwood after patrolling the east end of the forest. The Prince sat in the armory ridding himself of the countless weapons that clung to his body. He let his thoughts wander as he did so.

Two months had past since he had come across (Y/N) sketching in the library; and ever since, the two elves had met every night—well every night that Legolas was not on patrol. They had moved from researching at the table to scrutinizing in the comfort of (Y/N)’s favorite crevice of the library. The archivist sat in her leather armchair while the prince rested on the floor, leaning against a bookcase. The space was quite cramped, but he didn’t mind. Besides, it allowed him to study (Y/N) as she sketched and read. He would be lying if he said his heart did not yearn for her.

Additionally, the formality of titles between them was left behind as the two had become quite close. Legolas appreciated this; often many treated him differently because of his royalty, but not (Y/N). Furthermore, no longer was she concerned about the repercussions of reading material from the restricted section. Besides, if Thranduil somehow found out and was to punish her for it, he would have to punish his son.

“Prince Legolas!”

He looked up as his name was called. Legolas offered a warm smile to the guard who spoke. “Meludir, I trust patrol went well for you?”

The dark hair ellon nodded in response. “Are you going to the library after this?”

Legolas shrugged, “Perhaps.”

A light laugh fell from Meludir’s lips, “To see (Y/N)?”

The Prince’s brows furrowed. “Well, she is helping me with some research.”

Meludir smirked, “Research hmm? You are aware there has been some whispers flying around?”

Legolas tilted his head in confusion.

“Well, you spend much time with her. Enough to end up in her sketchbook—on multiple pages.”

The blonde elf bit back a smile. Of course Legolas was aware that during their research (Y/N) would put down the scrolls and ledgers and pick up charcoal and paper; and, quite frankly, he did not mind. But he was unaware of how Meludir knew if this so he opted to ask. “How do you know of her sketches?”

Meludir grinned, “I may have stumbled across it in the library very late one night.” He paused, “You can imagine my surprise when I went to find light reading material but came across the Prince and the Archivist throwing books at each other’s heads.”

Legolas looked down at his dirt ridden boots to hide the smiled that surfaced from that memory.

This of course did not escape Meludir’s gaze. The young ellon chuckled at his superior’s behavior and clapped him on the shoulder. “Best you head over there then.”

.....

The sun had set and the moon had taken its place. Legolas strutted into the library after he had washed up and changed into fresh clothes. He quickly made his way to the little nook filled with all their research.

“(Y/N)?” He questioned when he came to an empty space.

“Over here!”

He whipped his head around to see the young archivist thirty feet up a ladder; she was reaching for a book that rested near the rafters.

She called out to him again, “Come catch this!”

He walked towards her until he stood at the foot of the ladder. (Y/N) then let the heavy book fall through the still air; it landed perfectly in the prince’s waiting hands.

The archivist grasped onto two more books before gracefully climbing down. “Come on then, we must get reading. The sun won’t stop rising for us.”

She plopped down in her armchair and Legolas sat in his usual spot across from her. After a couple hours of endless reading and research, (Y/N) gasped.

“Legolas! I have found it!”

His head shot up, “What?”

“The—the sickness...the darkness. What you have described to me is exactly what a scribe wrote in an old Quenya dialect: Telerin. I’ve been translating it.” She stated as she moved the position of one of the three books in her lap. “It says it right here. Before the rise of Sauron.....animals fleeing, insect population stirring, trees going silent—“ (Y/N) stood up in excitement. “I found it, Legolas! I found it!”

The Prince leapt to his feet. Full of emotion, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her form up. He spun around quickly as little laughs left the woman’s lips.

Legolas set her down, but did not remove his arms from around her waist. “After all this time of researching....you—you did it!” He paused, “You are very brilliant, you know that (Y/N)?”

She shrugged, “Well, I don’t—“

He interrupted her, “You are, (Y/N). You are. You know this library as I know the woods. You were able to make connections between books and scrolls that I never would have seen. You were able to analyze data and translate languages with no trouble. You are incredibly intelligent....and I admire that.”

The young woman’s eyes drew to the floor and her cheeks heated.

“(Y/N)...” Legolas whispered while cupping her chin.

He lifted her face and the air seemed to still between them as their eyes locked.

“Legolas, I—“ She whispered.

He did not let her finish. He gently pressed his pink lips against hers and (Y/N) instantly responded. The earthy smell of dirt and trees filled the archivist’s nostrils as paper and fire filled the prince’s. It was almost hypnotic. As the two let their mouths dance against each other slowly, reality melted away. Legolas pulled her form closer and she obliged. (Y/N) snaked her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his loose blonde locks. The Prince let his hands wander down her back and across her hips, feeling every curve. The young woman could not help but feel a wave of warmth wash over her for she had craved this. The kiss was calm, gentle, and full of innocent love.

When the two reluctantly pulled away for air, (Y/N) rested her head in the crook of his neck.

“Do you know what this means, Legolas?” She whispered.

“You heart craves mine as much as mine craves yours?” He responded quietly.

“Well yes, but no....I meant about the forest. The sickness—it’s darkness. Sauron’s darkness. He is returning.”

.......

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary

Legolas Tag: @dark-angel-is-back

If you wanna be in the tag list lmk

[astrohonk]

tw // death, murder

merry christmas /dsmp angst

the snow flourished through the air as tommy treaded through the plains. christmas had dawned across the dream smp. holiday events and activities approaching with each waking day. excitement spread across the server, filling each member with holiday cheer. but not tommy.

for tommy was alone as he had been for the past few months, ever since the exile. with harsh enforcements from dream and a new home that’s eternities away from his previous, life had been pretty depressing for tommy. but today was different. tommy refused to be excluded on such a special occasion. so there he was, trudging through the blizzard that filled the space around him.

tommy looked at the compass ghostbur gifted him, assuring he was traveling the right way. finally, after countless hours of faceplanting in the snow, tommy caught a glimpse of lmanberg up ahead. he headed towards the haunted mansion where christmas dinner was being held, as ghostbur accidentally revealed to him the night before. tommy peaked through the windows, catching a glimpse of each person as they conversed over dinner. tommy stood up quickly, beginning to formulate his plan.

after a few moments tommy whispered a string of curses, as he realized he didn’t have a plan. tommy understood how dangerous this situation was for him, especially since he was residing on his final life. after some contenplation, tommy decided it would best to be civil and natural when he walked in.

tommy took a deep breath and walked to the entrance, walking through the front door. he walked towards the laughter emitting from the dining room, stopping at the doorway and leaning on the frame. tommy scanned the room, taking note of who was here. eventually his gaze met a very familiar figure at the end of the table.

dream.

despite all tommy acquaintances and himself being under the impression dream would not be attending, they appeared to be extremly wrong. tommy looked away, ghostbur being the next to meet his gaze. ghostbur looked at tommy, then at dream, then back to tommy. ghostbur sighed and gave tommy a weak smile, hoping to ease his nervousness. for a second tommy felt relieved, but then:

“tommy. what are you doing here.” dreams voice casted silence across the room. one by one each pair of eyes at the table were locked on tommy. tubbo being the last to turn around, but not before taking a moment of preparation. “its christmas dream. can i not celebrate the holidays with my friends?” tommy pleaded.

tommy looked at the familiar faces in the room. some expressing looks of anger, others pity. tommy frowned, disapproving of how the community had been treating him since the exile. “you know you can’t be here tommy. i understand it must be difficult, but you need to go. now.” tubbo said sternly.

the room remained silent as tommy stepped closer.

“you understand?” tommy snorted. “you understand how it feels to be excluded from everything? for everyone to shut you out one by one? to be alone in the depths of the wilderness living in fear? how it feels for your bestfriend to betray you?” tommy retorted, adding extra venom in his voice to the last line. tears stung his eyes as he gazed at tubbo, who was now seemingly unresponsive.

“typically, by now i would have already killed you with no question for breaking the terms we agreed upon. however, it’s christmas and i would feel awful horrible stabbing you infront of everyone, so you have a five minute grace period to leave the premises.” dream spoke up. tommy turned to him, the nerves in his body being replaced with anger after seeing the smirk on dreams face.

“i don’t want to LEAVE dream. i want to spend christmas with my friends. my FAMILY. you don’t have the right to decide what i do. i’m not your puppet. i know how you work unlike most others here and i will NOT submit to your endless tyranny!” tommy declared.

people at the table shifted in their chairs as they watched the heated argument. some of them grasping the weapons they owned incase things go south. others resisting the urge to stand up and protect the poor child.

“perhaps i was too caring to give you five minutes. please leave now unless you want to face the consequences.” dream spat. he began to take a stand, hand on his sword. tension rose in everybody’s throats as they felt the situation rising, and not in a good way.

“maybe we should all take a moment to relax. ya know, calm downa little bit.” quackity added, trying to disperse the situation. the anger inside tommy continued growing, filling him to the brim with rage.

“no. no, i am NOT going ANYWHERE. i deserve the right to be here with MY friends and celebrate with them just as any other person. i will NOT stand to be excluded any longer.” tommy retaliated. dream exhaled sharply, glaring at tommy. tommy gulped as he stared back at dream, refusing to break eye contact.

“tommy i am ordering you to return home. please leave lmanberg. and dream, please calm down. i don’t understand why it’s so difficult for us to gather together without any conflict. it’s really not-” tubbo began saying, until he was cut off by a loud thud.

that thud being tommy.

no one moved an inch. some staring in horror, others unable to move out of shock. tubbo opened his eyes, not remembering himself closing them in the first place. what tubbo saw would be etched in his brain forever. tommy was doubled over on the ground. a sword pierced in the center of his chest. that sword being held by none other than dream.

tommy let out an unnerving noise and slouched further into the ground. crying and shouting echoed throughout the room as people panicked. although tommy could barely hear them with the ringing in his ears. everything was beginning to get quieter and his vision was getting brighter.

ghostbur quickly appeared at tommys side. followed by philza, techno, and lastly tubbo. ghostbur embraced tommy in a hug, hoping to provide a little comfort to him in his last moments. each person was saying sweet nothings to tommy, though he could only hear a few things. tommy looked up at the men. he saw techno sobbing into phils shoulder, and ranboo placing a hand on tubbos shoulder as he appeared behind him.

tommy was proud of the friends he had around him, and he was grateful for all the memories he had with them. a smile formed on his face as he accepted his fate. as tommy neared the light, he heard a few final words:

“it’s okay, you’ll be like me now, don’t be scared.”

and

“tommy, please don’t leave. i’m so sorry.”

[amelia]

related to that last ask but now i actually have a question! what are your favourite episodes for amy as a character? (sorry if i’m pestering you btw you don’t have to answer right away ❣️)

it is absolutely never a bother for me to talk about amy pond!! gosh though this is a Question. okay. i did interpret this as episodes that are my favorite for the lens of My Understanding Of Amy instead of favorite pond era episodes as a whole if that makes sense? under the cut bc i got long as i tend to do

i think my number 1 has to be the big bang, because it really is just like. okay, pond era absolutely runs into the problem of frequently making stories/episodes that should be centered around amy's emotional journey actually about somebody else — but the big bang is all hers. it is all on her! she's leading the show SHE'S the one in the pandorica SHE'S the one who remembers the doctor into existence it is HER choice to say goodbye to leadworth and continue to travel completely without remorse SHE IS THE HERO. it goes from "time can be rewritten, he'll find a way" to AMY being the one who finds the way. rory and river and the doctor all of course get their Moments but it's unquestionably amy's spotlight moment the whole way through

i have also ALWAYSSS been obsessed with starless universe amelia and the way that she still believes in stars in a world where they DON'T EXIST the power of her mind and the conviction of her beliefs is a CORE TENET of amy's character, the doctor has NOTHING to do with it!!! it's just who she is !!! best character of all time <3

other things about the amy's writing in this episode i love: the line "the universe pouring into her dreams every night," space florida outfit <3, ok i obviously do not love this but i think so much about amy talking about the doctor at her wedding and her mother is still like "NOT THIS SHIT AGAIN… i thought the psychiatrists FIXED her" like once again !!! a UNIVERSAL CONSTANT that amy is the one who believes in things nobody else does and is LOUD about it and is RIGHT !!! (let's kill hitler tried to retcon this but it simply won't work on me ❤️ just like anything else about the let's kill hitler flashbacks ❤️❤️❤️), OKAY DOCTOR DID I SURPRISE YOU THIS TIME? <3

number 2, i think, is the eleventh hour itself? like it's just… i've rewatched it so many times and it's still the most captivating character introduction i have ever seen. i know i'm biased but i love it so much. her introduction as a clearly neglected seven year old girl (constantly think about the deleted line that has her talking to aunt sharon and saying "you're not supposed to leave me, i'm seven!" WOOF) who's not afraid of anything except for the crack in her wall… she has drawings up all over her house of burning houses, she draws smiley faces into her apples bc her mom used to do that, she can cook for herself way better than i could at seven, and she desperately just wants to leave. but when the doctor tells her he'll be back in five minutes, amy is already so used to adults leaving her and breaking their promises that she doesn't believe him. but he makes her believe anyway. and he doesn't come back.

and all of the rest of her character hinges on that introduction — of course she has to believe him, he was REAL, nobody can take his realness away from her even if she is the only one who believes. but he also left her all alone for so long, just like everyone else who was supposed to be there for her did, so what good does that to her? so yeah of course she grows up angry and bitter and hiding those layers of hurt deeply under the surface, scorning all attachment and serious relationships because she knows she can't trust them. she outwardly distances herself from her childhood self by changing her name but she IS still just such a child inside.

she's not ready to settle, to grow up, to become what everyone in her tiny village wants her to be, thinks that she should be — so when she gets the chance to GO, of course she takes it. but she's also not just going to let the doctor off the hook for [gestures] her entire life, you know? the exchanges "people always say that" "i'm not people, do i even look like people?" | "people always have a reason" "do i look like people?" "Yes." always just GUT ME. she may trust him but it's NOT a blind trust, it can't be.

number 3 has to be the beast below it just makes me SCREAM how good that episode is at really developing amy through her compassion for other people — right from the start she sees that kid crying and she thinks the doctor must ignore stuff like this all the time, and she says that she could never do that. she's learning and intuiting leaps and bounds about the doctor with everything he says to her — which is another one of my favorite amy character traits, the way she is SO quick to pick up on things about other people and analyze them. everything that she picks up about the doctor allows her to KNOW what to do to save the star whale, allows her to be confident in the fact that the star whale wanted to help the whole time. the choice is IN HER HANDS she IS THE HERO <3 as she always should be. you couldn't just stand there and watch people cry! all that pain and misery and loneliness and it MADE IT KIND. i don't care how overused that quote is it still HITS !!!

um. number 4 is the girl who waited but my very specific headcanon-ridden interpretation and cutting out all that garbage "rory's the most beautiful man i've ever met" "defying destiny causality the nexus of time itself for a boy" bullshit. idk there's so many terrible things about this episode but it also gave me so much to think about when it comes to amy it's on my mind a LOT. one thing i think about is the way it parallels amy's first abandonment by the doctor — not just in the obvious sense but in the way that she's actively fighting for her life in a hostile atmosphere, but nobody else SEES it as a hostile atmosphere. the two streams facility is leadworth like it really is. and what adds a more chilling component is the way the handbots signature line is "do not be alarmed, this is a kindness" — like all the people who were trying to convince amy she was crazy throughout her entire childhood really thought they were doing her a kindness. they thought they were helping her. but they were killing her. because she wasn't made for that environment.

beyond that i am just obsessed with 36-years-later amy she is an icon she is a legend she is the moment i don't care! every mean thing she said about the doctor and rory was absolutely deserved and in fact she should have been so much meaner! she is SO SMART she makes her own SONIC PROBES OUT OF CAMERA PHONES the fact that she even was able to SURVIVE THAT LONG and in COMPLETE isolation and still retain her own mental faculties is just insane to me it speaks so much about her insane mental strength oh my god it makes me sooo emotional i am tearing up a little typing this right now.

i just am always THINKING about the line "there he is, the voice of god. number one lesson: survive, because no one's coming for you. you taught me that" it says SO MUCH about her. oh my god older amy didn't want to die she'll be kicking and screaming and fighting til the end… i fucking hate this show and picking and choosing when paradoxes should apply OLDER AMY DESERVED TO LIVE

number 5 is probably the power of three but my own very headcanon infused interpretation of it. because it's like. the ultimate miscommunication/misunderstanding that exists between amy and the doctor coming to a head. where amy in 7.02 is like "i can't not wait for you, even now. (…) we think you're weaning us off you" (that line always makes me slow exhale … the phrasing of the doctor as a drug) and the doctor keeps insisting that's not true, "you'll be there until the end of me" "or vice versa" (and they have that loaded held stare and you know they're both thinking about what he said to her before he left in the god complex…)

but it's not until this episode where amy starts to actually believe he means it. at the same time she's spent so much TIME preparing for the inevitable moment where the doctor says goodbye and doesn't say hello ever again that she's not willing to fully hope that the doctor really means it when he says that he would never leave her permanently on purpose. and i love that this episode gives amy a lot of space to verbally communicate her emotions because the later pond episodes SORELY LACK THAT. and amy tells him, don't be nice to me, don't stop coming around just because you think that's the kind thing to do. even though she says herself that she doesn't know if she can have "both" — she knows that she can tell the doctor to stay, in her own way, and that he'll listen.

ideally they would have just gone off traveling together forever after that and the angels take manhattan did not happen but unlike what the doctor says about amy, i don't ever get what i want 🙃

also, this episode gave amy friends that weren't rory or the doctor or river so i love it for that on principal <3 i know amy had fun being the bridesmaid at laura's lesbian wedding. and kate!!

( i do hate that this episode ends with that conversation between brian and the doctor. i hate brian as a character and i will forever. won't get into this right now but OUGH )

honestly this list is kind of wobbly and might change if you asked me in a month so i'll just rattle off other favorite episodes / moments real quickly: the good night minisode (it counts!), RIVER SONG DIDN'T GET IT ALL FROM YOU SWEETIE (timeline frozen amy my beloved!), "i remember it so it happened so i did it," vincent and the doctor specifically when vincent tells amy that he hears the song of her sadness…. ow, i could write a whole other essay about amy's choice and how it is so much more complex than people give it credit for but this post is already so goddamn long

[starshard17]

Dukeceit Week | Day 7 | Let me be your First

Pairing : Romantic Dukeceit (Human AU)

Summary : "Can I have this dance?" "I've never danced before.." "Well then let me be your first."

--------

Janus sat beside the refreshment table, fidgeting uncomfortably. His friends had all ditched him to do something else at tonight's dance so he was left to be by himself, looking like an idiot in fancy dress which he bought specially for this occasion. He sighed, taking a sip from his red solo cup, staring at the ground sadly, a mask over his eyes, holes cut out to let him see. It was trimmed in gold glitter and was a bright golden color throughout.

There were a bunch of couples out on the dance floor, bodies pressed together and a multitude of colored masquerade masks floating around the room as a slow song played. Janus was never one for dancing, it just didn't really interest him. He crossed his feet, the heels of his shoes clacking together. He was just ready for tonight to be over with. He sat through the first song. Then another started playing. He groaned in exasperation, slumping back in his chair. He pulled the pin out of his hair, letting it fall down to rest on his shoulders. He pushed it back out of his face and tied it back into a low ponytail with the hair tie he had around his wrist. He played with the ruffles of his dress.

The melody of the song flowed through one ear and out the other. Oh how he wished his friends were here. He'd then at least have someone to talk to to satiate his hunger for fun.

Suddenly a hand appeared in front of his face. Janus glanced up, seeing a friendly face in front of him. He had thick, neon green hair and scruff on his chin and up his jawline. He wore a deep green suit and a bright green bowtie to match his hair. A black, bedazzled mask rested on his face, deep brown eyes peering out at him. Janus gulped.

"Can I have this dance?" He asked, his hand still outstretched to Janus. He swallowed his nerves, feeling a pit growing in his stomach.

"I-I've never danced before." Janus mumbled, adjusting the capelet around his shoulders and pulling his hair out over his shoulder to play with it. Anything to keep his hands busy. The boy snickered.

"Well then let me be your first." He offered.

Reluctantly, Janus took hold of the boy's hand and he quickly pulled him to his feet. He guided one of Janus' hands to his shoulder and he held the other one tightly. The boy then rested his free hand on Janus' hip, gently swaying with him.

His cheeks burned as he danced with this boy who he didn't even know the name of. He could tell he was doing something wrong. He didn't know where to place his feet or when to move so he let this mysterious man lead him the whole way. It seemed mesmerizing.

Enchanting.

"Who are you?" Janus blurted suddenly. He cursed at himself for ruining the moment before getting caught up in those beautiful brown eyes once more.

"My name is Remus Kingsley. And you would be?" He asked, gently swaying their bodies to the music. Janus swallowed the dry feeling that had built in his throat.

"Janus." He muttered, his voice barely audible.

"Hm?" Remus hummed. "I couldn't hear you mumbles." He teased, quirking up an eyebrow.

"Janus. Janus Bodae. That's my name." He stuttered. Remus smiled.

"That's very pretty." Remus complimented, his voice smooth like butter. A tone Janus melted at, gripping onto his hand tighter.

"T-Thank you!" Janus flushed, a smile crossing his face. He watched as the boy's face softened into a tranquil smile. As the song continued the two moved around the entire room before finding themselves in the center of the room. They looked into each others eyes, freezing in place. Remus' eyes seemed to shimmer as Janus watched them intently. They stood there, a small moat of free space surrounding them. Heads turned to look at the two and whispers were heard throughout the room.

Remus moved his arm to pull Janus close, pressing their bodies together.

"I bet you look absolutely ravishing underneath that mask." The boy chirped, his hold on Janus' hand tightening.

"You too." Janus responded, his face indefinitely turning impossibly red.

"How's someone as beautiful as you out here all by yourself?" He asked, a feeling of mystery oozing from him.

"My friends all stood me up, but I had already bought the dress so I decided to come anyways." Janus told him. Remus frowned, pulling his hand from Janus' like ripping the seams of a skirt. He instead rested the hand on the back of Janus' head and without warning, brought his head in close, kissing him fully on the mouth.

Janus' eyes widened in surprise, weakness flooding over him. He allowed himself to melt into the touch, closing his eyes and leaning against Remus.

As their lips parted Janus could feel the boy's breath against his lips, soft and quick. His eyes staring at Janus, half-lidded and still somehow sparkling brightly. Something about the music that played in the room and the look in Remus' eyes combined together made Janus' heart thump out of his chest.

"Lets get out of here. There are better places where we can spend our time. Agreed?" He asked. Janus snapped out of his dream state and looked up at Remus.

"Did you have a place in mind?" He asked, his heart beating faster and faster.

"Anywhere I can see that pretty face of yours without this mask in the way." Remus said with a small laugh and a smirk.

"Then lead the way." Janus told him. And everyone in the room watched as Janus was pulled out by the mysterious man he had just met that night, the music fading the further away they moved.

--------

Remus stopped in his tracks, staring up at the stars in the sky, the light of the moon glinting off of the black glitter on his mask. Janus watched him for a good while before moving a hand up to turn Remus' head to him. His eyes, wide and full of wonderment caught Janus' in their gaze and a soft smile spread across his face.

The boy rested his hand on Janus' cheek, then did the same with his other hand. And next thing Janus knew the boy was kissing him again, soft and full of love. Janus kissed back, moving up the other hand to hold his head. As they pushed their lips together, Remus moved Janus' mask up on his head before fulling pulling it off, gripping it tightly in one hand. Janus didn't seem to notice, or care however, tilting his head to the side a bit, effectively deepening the kiss.

Remus ran his hands down Janus' sides before eventually parting from him once again to finally get a view of his whole face. His skin was covered in lighter patches on one side and he had soft freckles littering his cheeks right under his eyes. There was prominent gold eyeshadow lining his eyes, one a yellowy green and the other a light hazel tint.

"You're pretty." Remus breathed out, seemingly at a loss for words. Janus let himself let out a light chuckle, moving his hands to grab Remus' mask before he stopped him.

"Am I not allowed to see you too?" He asked, his hands coming to rest on the boy's cheeks.

"I'm not half as pretty as you are, you'll be disappointed." Remus sulked, his hands resting on Janus' wrists. Janus gave him a sympathetic look before quickly slipping the mask up off of his face and into his hands. He was quick to turn his head away, avoiding eye contact.

"You should look at me." Janus told him, stepping a bit closer. While weary at first, Remus finally faced him. He was breathtaking. Deep, chocolate brown eyes. Thick green hair. Sleek eyeliner and purple eyeshadow. Beautifully structured face. A scar crossing from one cheek, over his nose, and onto the other. He was radiant.

"You thought a face as handsome as yours could disappoint me?" Janus snickered, running a hand up through Remus' fluffy hair. Remus smiled.

"Honestly I thought it would. But apparently I was wrong." He laughed out.

"I'm glad your friends ditched you tonight. I wouldn't have met you otherwise." Remus murmured against Janus' lips. Janus grinned, leaning a bit closer.

"I'm glad too." He agreed, kissing him sweetly.

"We should share our last dance together too y'know. Since we had your first tonight." Remus suggested after he pulled away. Janus thought on it.

"Alright pretty boy, as long as you take the lead." The two giggled and danced in the moonlight, sharing short kisses and words of love as they danced the night away.

[helbertinelli]

A Different Hope

Chapter 3 - Anakin and Padme

Vader came out of his room in the morning. He was usually the first to wake up, but today it seemed like Leia was already awake. She did not pay attention to him entering the living room as she was focused on a recording that was being played by a blue astromech. The contents of the recording were mostly blocked by Leia, sitting in front of it while she was watching it over and over again. Vader, stepped closer, now able to see over her shoulder exactly what she was watching.

He saw the recording was of his wedding day, when him and Padme became one finally, when they both pledged their lives and souls to one another. He saw Lake Como again and the balcony where he kissed Padme for the first time. He hated being reminded of the good parts of his life, but he tried to keep his anger at bay. The truth was he missed Padme greatly and it has been fourteen years since he's seen her outside his dreams. He watched in silence as Anakin took Padme's hand as carefully as possible and how she pressed her lips to his again now that they were husband and wife.

It took him a second to come back to reality and figure out what was going on. Leia had R2-D2 playing the recording of his and Padme's wedding for her.

"That astromech is not yours. You are not supposed to have access to the data on there!" He crossed his arms over his chest, scolding her. Leia was so immersed into the wedding that his robotic-like voice startled her, causing her to jump.

"That is my droid!" She stood up, placing herself in from of R2-D2 as if to protect him from Vader. "I don't need protection right now. You can wait outside if you have a problem with me watching my parents' wedding." Leia ranted, looking up at him defiantly.

Vader fell silent for a second. "Her parents?" He thought to himself. "It can't be. Padme died on Mustafar and our child died with her."

"This cannot be true!" He growled. "I do not have time for your games, Your Highness. You are lying!" He frowned under his mask, feeling rage pouring throughout his body. Was she lying? She had to be. Otherwise everything he knew for the last fourteen years was a lie. A lie that kept him a slave to yet another monster.

"How dare you? I'm not lying!" Leia almost shouted as she was just as angry as Vader now. "You say it cannot be true because you killed them, didn't you, Lord Vader?" She looked at him again with that same defiant look, but her brows furrowed in anger. "My parents went to your domain on Mustafar and you're the reason they're both dead!"

"Yes. I killed them." He admitted. "Your father was weak and your mother should have not followed him. Maybe she would have still been alive."

"I hate you!" Leia's fists hit his chest plate, taking him by surprise and causing him to step back slightly as she kept hitting him. "You fucking monster, you took them from me!" She cried.

"How is it possible that you are alive? Your mother died on Mustafar too before you were born." Vader asked, ignoring her futile assault on his armor. "Tell me now, Princess!" He demanded.

Leia stopped hitting him, but she was growing more angry when she heard his demands. How was it that he dared to ask about her mother after everything he did to her and to her parents? He must be truly heartless to demand such a thing from her. She decided to reveal what happened to her mother, only to make sure he knew her mother was strong enough to have survived his wretched planet.

"She didn't die on Mustafar. She was rescued and taken to the medical facility on Polis Massa. That's where she died." Leia took deep breaths as she spoke between tears. She was crying, but she was still trying her best to seem strong in front of him. Despite her face being wet with tears, she still somewhat held her composure.

He listened carefully to her words. Polis Massa. That's where he had to go. He was sure Leia would not miss him if he left and he could not delay leaving any second more. "You will have to stay inside until I return. I do not have time for this today." He finally spoke, before taking his leave and making straight for his ship.

-- Chapter 4 - The Ghosts of Polis Massa

He landed at the medical bay on Polis Massa. The place was now abandoned and the entire medical center was a ruin of what it once was. Vader made his way inside, into what looked like a maternity ward. The entire room was all but entirely destroyed. He tried to access the data on the computers but there was nothing to be found. Everything had been wiped away. He growled in anger and slammed his fists against the terminal, leaving large dents in it.

He stood in place, looking around for a while as his eye was caught by a Chroon-Tan B-Machine, a midwife droid. Vader knelt in front of the droid, trying to access its memory bank. He was good with droids, he always has been. Even now, he still had a knack for fixing them.

A recording of Padme lying on one of the now discarded beds appeared in front of him, projected by the droid. Vader brought his hand up to her face in the recording, getting it as close to her without distorting the image.

"Padme." He whispered as he was watching the last moments of her life. He desperately wished he could have been there. He thought that maybe there was something he could have done to save her, but the thought that maybe he would have ended up hurting her even more.

He heard the voice of his wife as the recording continued.

"There's good in him... I know... I know there's still..." Padme spoke, her voice soft even as she was struggling to get her last words out.

"Padme..." Vader whispered again, his voice filled with pain. He started crying, sobbing. Seeing her die was already too much, but hearing her words... Hearing her last thoughts were about him and that she still believed in him, in Anakin, that was more painful than anything he had ever felt.

"I'm so sorry, Padme." He cried, kneeling down on the ground of the deserted facility.

"Ani..." Her voice started again, but not from the recording. The sound of her voice came from behind him. Vader tried to stand up quickly, his vision blurry from his tears staining his lenses and his eyes still stinging from crying.

Before he had a chance to turn, Padme appeared in front of him. She was exactly the same as he remembered her, but there was an ethereal glow about her. Her hair was cascading into long, loose curls. Small, white, star-like flowers were adoring her hair. She was wearing a long flowy blue dress and the japoor snippet that Anakin had carved for her all those years ago was hanging from her neck, laying against her chest.

"I've forgiven you a long time ago, Anakin." Padme reached her hands out to him and touched his face. Although he was wearing his mask, he could feel her hands slip right through it and make contact with his skin.

"How is this possible? How are you here?" He closed his eyes, his entire body relaxing at her gentle touch. He held his hand out, trying to touch her as well, but instead of making contact, his fingers passed through her as if she was just a hologram. "You're not here." He sighed at the realization. She was just a ghost of his wife. Padme was not back to him, she was still very much beyond his reach.

"You are right about Leia." Padme stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around him to close the space between them. He could feel her touches and he could feel the warmth of her body onto his, but he was unable to touch her back. It was cruel in a way, but he could at least feel her and that had to be enough. "She is our daughter. I named her Leia as you suggested. Remember that night on Coruscant when we stayed up trying to come up with names?" She smiled as she spoke.

"Yes. I remember it." He nodded with a small smile as the memories of that night came back to him.

They were both ready for bed. He was sitting up on the bed and Padme was sitting between his legs, her back turned to him as he was playing with her hair, trying to braid it.

"I've just combed my hair." Padme laughed as she could feel him getting her hair tangled again.

"I'm making it better. Just give me a second." He said, pressing his lips on her shoulder.

"Is that what you're doing?"

"That's exactly what I'm doing." Anakin nodded. He stuck his tongue out, concentrating on the task at hand. He worked carefully, weaving the strands of her hair into a loose braid. "Done." Anakin pressed a kiss against the back of her head before Padme brought her hand back, feeling over her braid.

"Maybe I should have you doing my hair from now on." She only half joked.

"I would like nothing more." Anakin rested his chin on her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her and resting them over her stomach. "I'm so happy for our baby." He brushed his lips over her shoulder again, placing small kisses against her skin.

Padme traced her fingertips over Anakin's hands. She was looking down at her rather large baby bump and at her husband's hands covering it. "Sola said we should have already had names picked for the baby."

"Did she?" He continued kissing over her shoulder, moving closer to her neck. "Are there any names you like?" He spoke against her skin, sending shivers down her body.

"I haven't really thought about it. I like names with L. They'll fit well with Skywalker." She suggested, entwining her fingers with his. "Luke, for a boy. Luke Skywalker sounds rather good, don't you think?" She smiled when she spoke their child's name.

"I like the sound of that." He nodded, leaning forward and kissing her cheek. "The only problem is that we're having a girl." He smiled, kissing her cheek again as he saw her eyebrows raising.

"You don't know that." Padme laughed.

"Mm, I do. I've felt the way she kicks. Definitely a girl." He placed a kiss behind her ear. "I like the name Leia. I find it so beautiful for some reason and I guess Leia Skywalker doesn't sound too bad either."

"It's perfect." Padme replied, turning her face to meet his lips and kissing her husband. "I guess that is settled now and Sola can be happy again." She joked before Anakin kissed her lips again.

As the memory faded, Vader was still in Padme's embrace and she placed one hand onto the side of his face. "Take care of our daughter, Ani. Make sure she knows we both love her so much." Padme stroke his face gently. "Just as much as we love each other."

Padme's image faded away, but he could still feel her touch lingering on his skin. He stood still for a while, not wanting the moment to end completely just yet, but he knew he had to return to Coruscant sooner than later.

"Leia." Vader called her name and the teen raised her brows in surprise at hearing her name uttered by him.

"Oh you're back?" She did not turn to look at him. "I have to say I enjoyed not having to listen to you for the last few days."

"I went to Polis Massa. Where you were born. Where my wife died." His words made Leia stand up and turn towards him. Her heart was almost jumping out of her chest hearing him refer to her mother as his wife. "I saw her there. I am your father, Leia. You are my daughter."

"I'm not your daughter!" Leia denied. "My father was Anakin Skywalker and you are not him! He was a good man." Leia said angrily. "How dare you say something like that? That my mother would ever love a monster such as yourself? That I could be related to this?" She gestured at all of him. "You are not my father and you will never be that. Bail Organa is the only father I have right now." Leia turned to leave, but she was interrupted by an Imperial Guard.

"Emperor Palpatine requests both of you to his throne room right now." He informed. Leia looked up at Vader and then back ahead as they both started following the Guard.

--

Chapter 1 - Her Eyes / Chapter 2 - Dreams

Chapter 5 - The End / Chapter 6 - Twin Suns

[firefly464]

The Real World - Chapter 8

ok this chapter is slightly shorter, so sorry about that! 

Made in collaboration with @i-have-this-now​

Master Post

First - Previous - Next

~~~

The week passed by rather quickly, and without incident. Every day, Tommy would try to talk to Wilbur. And every day, something would happen. He would always walk in on Wilbur talking with someone else, or drawing up some sort of battle plans. Sometimes he would just end up talking himself out of it, mostly out of fear of Wilbur’s reaction. He couldn’t bear the idea of his friend looking at him with disappointment, and maybe even fear. The fact that he was lying only made it ten times worse. With every day he put it off, the harder and harder it became. 

Every night, he would sneak out to go and train with George and Dream. His knowledge of sword fighting hadn’t exactly improved much, but it was odd. The repetitive motions of sword fighting felt familiar to him, as if he had done it hundreds of times before. It didn’t make any sense, considering how he had never picked up a sword in his life, but it was definitely there. Perhaps it was muscle memory from the other Tommy? That would make the most sense, but even so, it was strange. Either way, his sword fighting skills were increasing dramatically. He was still nowhere on the same level as George or any of the others, but he could at least last for nearly a minute now in a sparring session. Considering how he had started not even able to stand properly, he saw that as an improvement. 

The three of them would trade stories as they trained, each one learning new things about the other world. It was nice, being able to relax and just hang out with friends again like nothing had changed. Of course, the swords broke the illusion slightly, but it was still something that Tommy looked forward to each and every day. 

It was the night before Tommy’s deadline passed, and the three of them were out training like normal. 

“No way. You’re lying, there's no way that's true.” George’s voice cut through the thoughts in Tommy’s mind as he tried to catch up to what was going on. 

“I’m not! I swear it's true!” Dream replied.

“So you’re telling me that I can’t see all the colors?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“That’s complete bullshit. You’re such a liar. I think I would have noticed something like that.”

“I’m serious! Here, look at this.” Dream pulled Tommy over and held up his jacket sleeve to the boy's blonde hair. “How different are these two colors?” 

“I dunno, they look pretty similar.” 

Tommy couldn’t help but burst out laughing. He had known about George’s colorblindness, but he hadn’t actually considered the fact that he may not even know about it in this world. It made sense, there was no way for him to figure it out. And if he had lived with it his whole life, then he would have never even realized that something was wrong. 

“George, these are completely different colors,” Dream said, clearly trying his best to not laugh.

“What? No way, no they aren’t. They look the same!” 

“Pffft, I swear that they are completely different colors,” Dream said with a laugh.

“Christ man, I knew your eyes were messed up but I didn’t realize that they were that bad,” Tommy teased, earning an indignant squawk from George.

“My eyes are perfectly fine thank you very much!” 

“Yeah, alright Big G, whatever you say.” The three of them talked like that for a while, late into the night. Tommy wasn’t sure what time it was when he finally left, but he had walked back to his little shack with a smile. 

~~~

Tommy stood at the entrance to the underground bunker for what felt like the hundredth time that week. God, he hated walking through the damn tunnel. It was small and cramped, not to mention just downright creepy. The memory of the piercing bell only made it ten times worse. Every time he stepped foot inside the small tunnel, he was terrified that it was going to ring out again, leaving him shaking, scared, and alone on the rocky ground. He had already chickened out from talking to Wilbur several times that week, just out of pure hatred of the tunnel. 

Now though, he didn’t really have an option. George’s deadline had passed the day before, and now his only hope was to get to Wilbur before George did. Tommy wanted Wilbur to hear the story from him, not from someone else. If George was the one to tell him, then he would likely jump to conclusions. Conclusions that George simply didn’t have the ability to explain away. No. Tommy needed to be the one to tell Wilbur. It was only right.

With a trembling breath, he stepped into the long, dark corridor. The silence surrounded instantly, suffocating him, drowning him. He shook his head desperately. He wasn’t going to let something like a stupid tunnel stop him. His fingers began to dance across the hilt of his sword, creating a slight pinging sound. It wasn’t much, but the soft noise helped to fill the all consuming silence. It was ok, he was going to be ok. The sound of his footfalls against the stone helped to comfort him as well. As long as he kept moving, the sound would continue. Just as long as he kept moving, he would be ok. 

He was about three quarters of the way to the bunker when he first heard the muffled sounds of voices. It was the sound of arguing, of shouting. Wilbur’s voice drifted through the tunnel towards him, echoing throughout the small space. “What?! Then where the fuck is Tommy?!” he cried out, his voice filled with desperation and fear. 

George's reply was faint, too far away to hear, but Tommy had a decent guess of what he had said. He didn’t know. No one knew. The other Tommy had disappeared and no one knew what had happened. For all they knew, he could have died. Fuck… that was probably what Wilbur was thinking as well. He needed to get in there, to explain himself. 

“That doesn’t- how the fuck do I know you’re not lying?!” Wilbur shouted. Tommy ran towards the sound of voices, desperate for a chance to explain himself. He needed to tell Wilbur the whole story, from his point of view. 

As he burst into the small bunker, he couldn’t help but look around in awe. What had once been a small, three by three room was now a multi-room underground house. Only the main room was surrounded by obsidian, but the other rooms had small doorways that could easily be blocked off and covered if needed. Tommy had to admit, it was an impressive sight to behold. At the center of the main room sat a table covered in different maps and plans. Bookshelves lined the walls, all filled to the brim with different books. It was the type of area that should have felt cold and empty, but was somehow filled with a lively warmth. 

At the center of it all, standing over the table, were his friends. Wilbur towered over George, staring at him pleadingly. “Where the fuck is he? How did you even know any of this?!”

“Wilbur! Will, I can explain,” Tommy said, putting his hands in the air to show he meant no harm.

Wilbur crossed over to the entrance in three strides and placed his hands on Tommy’s shoulders. His eyes burned with anger and pain, but there was an undertone of regret as well. Perhaps regret that he couldn’t do anything? Or regret that he hadn’t noticed sooner? Tommy didn’t know. “Where is he?! What the fuck did you do to him?!” He shouted, shaking the younger teenager as he interrogated him. 

“I-I don’t know! I didn’t do anything, I swear! Just give me a chance to explain, please!” Tommy pleaded, trying to get his friend to see reason.

“Bullshit! I fucking knew something was up with you, but I didn’t think that it was something like this! Who the fuck even are you anyways?!” “I’m still Tommy! Just give me a chance to fucking explain myself!” he cried, pushing Wilbur away. “Trust me, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here. I just want to go home”

“I don’t give a fuck about what you want. All I care about is the fact that you’ve possessed the body of my right hand man, and apparently you’ve been plotting with the men of the DreamSMP,” Wilbur snarled. 

“What…? Wha- no, I didn’t! I had no say over any of this! I was living my normal life when suddenly I was here! I’ve been trying to figure out a way to go home ever since!” 

“Oh really? And when did that happen? How long have you been ‘trapped’ here?” he asked, making air quotes with his fingers.

“I dunno, two weeks maybe? I-It happened during the duel with Dream…” 

“Right. Two weeks that you could have come and talked to me. Two weeks that you could have come and asked for help, or just told me what was going on. Instead, you sneak out in the middle of the night to talk with Dream. God, you’re just as bad as Eret.” 

Tommy’s eyes widened. “How did you…?” “I fucking saw you! Did you really think I was going to let you go out in the middle of the night without backup?! No, of course not!” “So you followed me?!” “Yeah! I needed to make sure that you weren’t going to go and do something stupid! Low and behold, you went directly to talk with Dream of all people. The only reason I didn’t confront you was because I knew I needed to trust my right hand man. But apparently he’s gone! He’s fucking gone and I had no clue!” His voice broke on the last sentence as tears started to form in his eyes. Hastily, he wiped them away. 

“What the hell was I supposed to say? ‘Oh hi Wilbur, by the way I’m a Tommy from a different dimension where all of this is just a fun video game. Oh also the man that tried to kill all of you is the only person who I can actually talk to about this because he’s going through it too,’” Tommy scoffed. “Do you even realize how ridiculous that sounds?! You would have said I was insane and then called it a day. I wouldn’t even have had a chance to fucking talk.”

“You could have at least tried! If you really are just a different Tommy, than why the hell did you not trust me enough to talk to me? I would have listened!” “Because you were at war! You were in the middle of a fucking war and there was just never a good time. Believe me, I thought about it, but you just always seemed so stressed out and I couldn’t find it in myself to add more to the pile.” 

“But you still should have tried.” Wilbur turned his back to the boy and walked over to the tables. “Who else knows.”

“Uh, Tubbo thinks I have slight amnesia, but other than that, it's just George. Dream knows since he’s in the same boat as me, but that's besides the point.”

He nodded gravely. “Right. Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to go out there and tell Tubbo that his best friend may be dead because of you, and then I want you gone. I want you out of my sight. Until you can tell me exactly what happened to the real Tommy, I want you out of these walls. Understood?” 

Tommy could feel his heart shatter. No, this couldn’t be happening. He had just started to get used to the supportive family that L’Manberg provided, and now it was being taken away. Even worse than that, he needed to go face Tubbo… He wasn’t sure how his friend would react, but it likely wasn’t going to be good. Still, this was what he deserved, wasn’t it? He had technically caused the disappearance of this world's Tommy, even if he didn’t do anything on purpose. The other boy was still gone because of him. “Of course… Yes sir,” He said solemnly. 

“Good. George, I want to thank you for bringing this to my attention. I may not consider you an ally, but you have gained my respect.”

“Thank you Wilbur. I felt that you had the right to know. Come on Tommy, let's go,” George said, as he walked past Tommy and into the dark tunnel once more. Tommy spared one last glance behind him before he followed George, trying to get one last look at his friend. All he could see was a tall, hunched over figure. As the two of them walked towards the daylight, the boy swore he could hear the distant sobs of a heartbroken man. 

~~~

be careful what you wish for :)

Master Post

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[diaryofabeautyfiend]

This chapter is a monster so I’m splitting it up into two parts. If y’all wouldn’t mind letting me know if you’re still reading this, I would appreciate it forever.

Small Time Witch (21) part 1

Most of the time when Loki remembered his dreams they were of you or his mother. Sometimes he dreamt of his coronation as king of Asgard with you by his side. The last several nights he would wake up frantic having dreamt of Asgard in ruin. Ragnarok was imminent. He tried several times to reach Thor to no avail. He would go to Asgard in the morning.

You rolled over half asleep reaching out to the warm body that wasn’t there. This is the third time this week Loki had a nightmare. “Lok?”

“In here” he called from the den.

“Another nightmare?” You hugged him from behind. He kissed your hands.

“I don’t think they are nightmares. I think they are warnings. I can’t get in touch with Thor. I’ll have to go to Asgard in the morning.”

“Can I come?”

“I’m afraid not. I don’t know what’s happening and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I can help.” You let a little spark jump between your fingers.

“I know you can, Pet. At worst something terrible is happening and I’ll have to help. Which means I will be too distracted worrying about your safety to fight. At best I’m just having nightmares, I’ll see the healers and I’ll be home by the next day. I promise.”

You pouted but didn’t argue. You hated seeing him this worried. You made him a cup of tea and sat with him until he was ready to go back to bed. When you yawned for the third time he tried to get you to go on without him.

“That’s it. Off with you” he said over his book.

“I’m not tired. I want to stay up with you. Hey, Loki, I can put you to sleep like you used to do when I had nightmares.” You slid your hand into the waistband of his pajamas and started stroking his cock. It was only a matter of seconds before it was hard and throbbing in your hand. He always responded so well to your touch.

You didn’t even make it into the bedroom. He bent you over the arm of the sofa and pounded you silly. He made you cum three times before he was able to meet his release. After all that you were a half dead mess. He was still wide awake.

“Shall I carry you, my queen? I’m quite strong you know?” He pulled you from the couch and all but dragged you to bed.

“How are you still so awake?” He shushed you as you climbed under the covers. “Don’t leave me. Get in bed.” You rested your head on his chest and fell asleep before he could turn off the light. Sleep never came for him.

In the morning he made you breakfast and woke you with his tongue diving into your snatch. Your all time favorite wake up. You sat on his lap throughout breakfast. He insisted. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you. Since you returned from Alfheim you hadn’t been apart for more than a few hours. Not knowing when he’s return was making you both a little antsy.

“How will I know you’re there?” you asked impatiently.

“You’ll know. The pull will not be as strong.” His voice was low and somber. You both hated that thought.

“How will I know if you’re hurt or worse?” He grabbed your chin and looked into your eyes.

“If I die, you will too. Remember? The rings keep us bound. They’re still Yggdrasil. My soul is still there.”

“How comforting. What if I take it off to wash my hands and that’s the moment you die. Will I still die?”

He rolled his eyes, “Yes. The moment you return the ring to your finger. You’ll be bound to a dead soul.”

Your stomach was in knots. “Good. Because if you die I’ll find you and drag you out of Hel myself. I’m not feeling good about this, Lok. Let me come with you. Or don’t go. We’ll try Thor again.”

Loki sighed deeply. My my, you were peevish this morning. “Y/N. I have to go. I will be back. I love you more than anything. Much more than Asgard. I promise if anything happens I’ll get out of there and come right home. I promise.” He kissed you deeply. He didn’t want to let go. He looked worried. “I love you, Y/N. Not even death can change that.”

“Please don’t say it like that. I love you too, Lok.” He called for Heimdall and he was off.

You tried to occupy yourself but your mind kept going back to him. After your third cup of tea you decided to go relax in the yard. You grabbed a book and a blanket. You read the same sentence a few times and finally gave up. It was no use. That was it. You had been coupled for so long that you forgot how to be with yourself.

It was really no surprise how broken up you were about Loki being away. You were the same way when you and Andrew broke up. This was different. You and Loki weren’t breaking up. You were blissfully happy. You still had a nagging feeling in your chest that something wasn’t right.

That night you dreamt of a world burning down around you. You tried to get to Loki but you couldn’t in time. Every time you closed your eyes you saw his lifeless face looking back at you purple bruised and bleeding. It made you physically ill.

You did everything in your power to reach Loki. Nothing worked. You searched through his books to try to find a way to access the Bifrost. That was either magic Loki couldn’t do or he didn’t have it in his books. You stumbled across one book titled The Joy of Interstellar Space Travel. When you opened it the pages looked a little off. You place your hand in the center and it went right through the book into a little hole. This must be where Loki kept the tasseract and now it’s gone. Your brain flew into a panic and you started shouting for Heimdall.

You had to stop Loki from doing whatever stupid thing he was about to do. Heimdall never answered. Maybe Strange could get you there. You ran into the kitchen to grab your keys when you heard Loki’s voice.

He looked like he had taken a beating. Exhaustion wracked his body. You tried to touch his face but your hand went right through. He was too weak to make his double corporeal.

“Oh, Loki.”

You could see the tears streaming down his face. “Y/N, I’m not going to make it home. I know I promised and I am so sorry...”

“No” you shook your head furiously, “you promised! Come home. Please!”

He shushed you and cursed himself for not being able to touch you. “I don’t have much time. I need you to warn Wanda and Strange. Tell them Thanos is coming for the stones. You have to hurry. He already has two.”

“What do you mean? If you go I go. I won’t be here to tell them..”

“Yes you will. You have to take off your ring.”

“No! Loki! No! I’m coming with you. I’ll find you in Hel.” You were trembling violently and sobbing. Nothing he could say would calm you.

“You have to. Please. This wouldn’t be happening if I hadn’t taken the tasseract. It’s my fault. Half of our people are gone. I need you to do this.”

“Fuck everyone else. We’re supposed to spend eternity wandering around the afterlife together. We said vows. If you didn’t mean it then....”

He could see logic had escaped you at this point so he got more forceful. “Stop being such a fucking brat and do as I say! Take off the damned ring! NOW. You need to live. You just have to. I’m sorry that this is happening but you shouldn’t be made to suffer because of me.”

He may as well have slapped you. Both of you were prostrate with grief. With every ounce of strength he had he forced his double to solidify so that he may feel you one more time. He placed his hands on the side of your face and made you to see him.

“I love you. Please say you love me. My little queen. Tell me.”

“I love you, Loki. Please don’t leave me. What am I supposed to do without you?”

He took a deep strained breath. Blood was trickling out of his nose and his eyes were rimmed red, “Live.” He snatched the ring off your finger and fizzled out.

You screamed his name like a wild banshee and summoned a wind that knocked everything off the walls. You couldn’t feel your body tumbling to the floor. You couldn’t breathe. You were certain for a split second your heart stopped. The blood rushing through your ears was so loud you couldn’t hear your phone ringing. You held out your hand to bring it over. On the other end was Wanda’s panicked voice.

“Y/N! What happened? Y/N!”

Your voice was very calm and monotone, “Thanos is coming for the stone. You have to get Vision out of there. Loki’s dead. Thanos has the tasseract. I have to call Strange.”

You hung up and dialed Strange’s number. No answer. Your television clicked on. You hadn’t turned it on. The news story flashed on the screen saying that New York was attacked. Thanos was already on his way.

You stayed on the kitchen floor clutching your ring and you cried. There was nothing else you had strength for.

🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆

STEVE

The Quinjet could not carry Steve to New York fast enough. He paced the entire time they were in the air. He kept trying your phone but it was going right to voicemail.

“Pick up, damn it.”

Wanda assured him you were still alive. She couldn’t concentrate long enough to feel you. He called Ororo.

“Captain Rogers. Good to hear from you. What are we looking at?”

“A mad titan coming to earth to collect stones that will help him wipe out half the population.”

“Must be a Tuesday,” she said in jest. “How can we help?”

Steve let out a deep sigh, “We stopped some of his followers in Belfast. I’m sure you saw they captured Tony Stark in New York. Truthfully I have no idea. Ororo, is Y/N alone?”

“She is. She won’t let anyone in the house. Agatha can’t get through the magic she put up. She’s umm...” her voice faltered, “she’s in so much pain. Jean can’t get through to her. Logan has stationed himself outside. When we first got there all we could hear was her screaming. She won’t let us help her.”

“Ok. We’ll be in New York in a few hours. Let me know if anything changes.” He hung up and braced himself against the wall. Bucky put his hand on Steve’s shoulder to comfort him. “Buck, when we land I want you to go straight to Y/N.” Bucky nodded and paced the floor with him.

As soon as they got back to the compound Steve tried calling you again. This time you answered but didn’t say anything. He could hear you sniffling on the other end. “Y/N, Bucky is coming to get you ok? You need to let him in.” You didn’t answer him at first. His heart was breaking for you. He squeezed his eyes his eyes shut, “Come on, Princess, I know you can hear me. Say something.”

“Ok” Click. At least that was something. Bucky grabbed some keys and found the car they belonged to. He raced to you as fast as he could. When he pulled up Logan greeted him.

🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅

“She won’t let anyone in” Logan huffed.

Bucky advanced towards the house. He was scared to death that you were going to kill him. “She knew I was on the way. What’s stopping you from getting in? Will it kill me if I try?”

“Not exactly. It’s just that when you get close you can’t move. Like your body won’t advance or doesn’t want to. I can’t explain it accurately.” Logan was flustered. He had been trying to get to you for hours with no luck.

“Can she hear us talking or should I call her phone?”

“She can hear.”

The front door and windows were open. You were sitting on the couch staring at the wall. You looked so lost and pissed. Really pissed. The most scary thing is that you looked like you were scheming. Murderously scheming. Bucky hoped that none of Loki’s stupid tendencies rubbed off on you.

He got as close as you would allow and he spoke softly. “Hey, doll. Steve sent me to get you. We don’t want you to be alone. But if you don’t want to go I will sit here and wait as long as you want. But, I haven’t watched this season of Drag Race. If you want to let me in I can watch with you. I brought the essentials.”

Agatha perked up, “Keep going, Bucky. It’s working” she whispered.

“I have Funions from the gas station. I know you like road trip snacks. I also have peanut butter M&M’s and Oreos. If you have some ice cream we can make milkshakes. I have bourbon if you want to make it interesting. Not the fancy kind. That rot got Irish shit that burns when you swallow....”

“I hope you brought enough for everyone” you finally said. Bucky stood up and gingerly stepped into the doorway.

“I have plenty. Didn’t know how long I’d be here. Can we come in?”

“Door’s open, Buck.” He walked in quietly and sat on the couch.

“Everyone calm down. I’m not going to flip out. Sit down. Eat. I have leftovers in the fridge. Wolfie have you ever seen Drag Race?”

After a few drinks and lots of snacks everyone was ready to get some sleep. Ororo, Jean and Agatha headed back to the school. It wasn’t a long drive. You promised to call in the morning. No way Logan was leaving you. He set himself up in Thor’s room. Wade found the other bedroom. Bucky offered to take the couch but you asked him to sleep in bed with you.

He shot Steve a text. Instead of texting back he called.

“Hey. How’s it going over there?” Steve was very anxious. He didn’t know how to talk to you.

“Fine. I’m going to see if she’ll get some sleep. Agatha made her some tea. Said it had a mild sedative. I’m going to sit up with her.”

“Is she around? Can I talk to her?”

“You’re on speaker.”

It was quiet for a moment. “Hey, Steve. I’m ok. Well I’m not ok. I’m fucking gutted. I’m ok for now. I’ll go back with Bucky in the morning.”

“Take your time, sweetheart. We do kind of need all hands on deck though. I know the girls are dying to see you too. Get some sleep ok?”

“Ok.” and you clicked off the phone. “Has he always sounded like a worried mother or is that new?”

“Be nice” Bucky scolded. “He’s just worried. We all are. I’m going to shut off the light ok? Sleep.”

You held on to Bucky the whole night. You fought against the sedative for as long as you could but it finally won. As soon as you closed your eyes, there he was. Loki’s face was purple bruised and bloodied. His neck looked broken. His eyes were open and just stared unfocused. You tentatively reached out a hand to touch him but you pulled back.

You wanted to hit him, to scream in his face. You couldn’t bring yourself to move. Finally, you crawled towards him and situated yourself where you were laying against his chest. You used to fall asleep listening to his heart beating. There was only silence. You pulled his arm over you and tried to will him to wake up. When you squeezed him harder he turned to dust in your arms. You screamed and, judging by the look on the three men’s faces, you were screaming for real.

“Sorry, guys. Bad dream.” You settled back down and kept having the same dream. You didn’t scream anymore. You just held him as long as you could.

🟠🔴🔵🟣🟢🟡

The next morning you sent Logan and Wade home. You promised them you would be ok and that you wouldn’t murder a Titan without calling them first. You and Bucky chatted on the car ride back. The conversation was light and took your mind off of things.

When you got closer to the compound you got quiet. Seeing everyone again was making you feel anxious. Bucky held your hand. It felt like the first time you visited the compound with Wanda. Loki made you feel so safe.

You were trying to keep your emotions in check but when you saw Wanda, all of that went out of the window. She wrapped you in her arms and you melted down. “We were really happy.” Was all you could say. She and Nat took you upstairs so they could help you take a bath.

Bucky plopped in the chair. Steve looked at him like he wanted to ask a question but he was reluctant.

“How did she sleep?” he finally asked.

“She screamed in her sleep all night. Every time I thought she settled down it would happen again. The three of us took turns keeping watch. She electrocuted Wade once when he tried to shake her awake. It was pretty funny. She’s not ok, Steve.”

Steve signed and rubbed his face, “Shit. Why don’t you go take a nap and we’ll meet downstairs in a couple of hours?”

Already nodding off, Bucky didn’t have to be told twice. Steve paced outside of your door wanting to see you so badly. Finally Nat came out to get you some water.

“Does she want to eat? Can I see her?” He followed Nat down the hall bombarding her with questions.

She put her hand on his shoulder, “I know there are probably still feelings in there but you have to reign them in. She just lost her husband. Let her grieve before you swoop in.”

“I’m not swooping. Who is swooping? Wait! Husband?! They’re married?”

“Yes. Apparently he figured out a way to share his immortality with her. In doing so some elf priest split their souls and intertwined them together. If she puts back on her wedding ring she dies. It’s complicated.”

Steve’s head was spinning. He was still trying to understand the very simple fact that you and Loki were husband and wife.

“Does she want to see me?” His voice was small and timid.

Nat rolled her eyes, “Just go, Steve.”

He opened the door slowly and peered around the corner. You were sitting on the bed with your head in your hands. Wanda was rubbing your back.

He had never presumed that his relationship with you was on the same level as what you had with Loki. He did not share your twin abilities to know what the other is feeling. But this time, he could feel the despair drifting off of you like a fog.

He knelt beside the bed to try to see your face. You didn’t acknowledge him but you didn’t pull away. He had no words of comfort to give you. He could not take your pain away. He could only offer support.

“How can I help?” he whispered. You sat up and took his hands in hours. Your face was haggard and your body somehow looked frail.

“You can’t. I know it’s your nature to try to fix things but you can’t. Just be my friend.”

“Then that’s what I’ll do. Wanda, why don’t you go check on Vision? See how the plans are coming. I’ll stay here.”

Wanda was reluctant to leave. She promised not to go far. As soon as the door clicked closed Steve got into bed with you and scooped you into his lap. You buried your face in his shirt and screamed until you passed out. He held on to you as tight as he could to absorb as much as you would give.

The whole team hovered outside of your door until Steve came out. “She’s asleep. Let’s go hash this out. Let her get some rest.”

[misomilk]

the new game has been giving me so many stony feelings so i just HAD to write something!!!!

The Diary [AO3] Pairing: Steve Rogers x Tony Stark AU: Marvel’s Avengers Word Count: ~2.3k Summary: Steve wonders about Tony reading his diary. He couldn't really have read it...could he?

He didn’t really read his diary...did he?

To the others, it’s been five years, but to Steve it was just a few days ago that he had last written an entry on it. It’s not that he kept a diary to note down all the fluttery feelings he felt for his fellow Avenger. Most entries were akin to those he’d write on mission reports. Things he did well, things he should’ve done better. But few and far between, there would be glimpses of his feelings for Tony.

Steve can still remember what his entry about Tony’s jokes was.

Tony said more than a few jokes during today’s mission. I didn’t get them. Then he drew roses around the page, because Steve knew if he found the courage to speak his feelings, he’d be giving the genius a bouquet a day.

He drew flowers on the same pages he ever mentioned Tony. Blue violets, daisies, pansies. Thank God his drawings of Tony’s portraits were in a separate sketchbook and not in the diary. When the bean bag or mission reports weren’t enough to calm him down at night, it was thinking of Tony and etching his image on paper that helped soothe him through the night.

Then Steve remembered there were a few, more sentimental entries, too.

Like that night they spent together at the tower penthouse, gazing at the sky, watching planes go by, talking about the smallest things. Tony surprisingly didn’t drink a drop of alcohol, but he talked so much. About his life, about his father, about how much he wanted the world to be at peace. Steve wanted to take him in his arms then. Dance with him, maybe, if there was music. Steve wanted to tell him he was his world, but the sun had come up before he had summoned the courage to do so.

He drew tulips on that page.

God. It really was a love diary, wasn’t it? Masked with non-Tony entries, but it really was. And Tony read it? Tony read it? No way… He couldn’t have. What were the chances Tony went through his things, and got the hold of it? Unsure. What were the chances Tony read every single entry upon finding said diary? Highly likely. Tony’s curiosity led him to no bounds.

Did Tony find the diary? Did he read it? If it wasn’t 25 past two in the morning, Steve would strut down to Tony’s room and ask for answers now. But he’ll have to settle for doing that first thing in the morning. Instead, thoughts threatened to haunt Steve throughout the night. But he managed to keep them at bay as he drew Tony’s face on a new sketchbook-- his face when he found him.

The first face he saw since waking up. If Steve closed his eyes, he could still picture it. The worry in Tony’s eyes, mixed with a hint of relief, the way his eyes wouldn’t pull away from him. His arms around him when he caught him--hugged him. It was as if he was still dreaming. Being so close to Tony was the most surreal thing to have happened to him. Even more than finding out he was stuck in space for the past five years or so. Tony Stark had been the first thing he saw upon opening his eyes, and that has been a dream Steve has wished for since he realized his feelings for him.

And then thoughts about the diary filtered into his brain yet again. With a sigh, he set the sketchbook down beside him and got settled into bed, hoping sleep would claim him so morning would come faster.

***

“Looking a little stiff there, you feeling all right?”

Steve swallowed. It’s finally morning and here he’s found himself at Tony’s room, right before breakfast. “Sure. Never better.”

Tony smirks. “Uh-huh.” “I’m fine.” Steve hoped his response was less frigid than it felt.

“That was so convincing.” Tony turned back to what he was working on at the center of his room. It looked like a weapon. “Thanks for putting my mind at ease.”

Was that one of Tony’s jokes just now? Steve sighed, stepping in a little further into the room. It’s messy, but feels homey. A lot like Tony.

“Can I… help you, Cap?”

“Yes, well,” Steve gathered the courage to ask what he wanted. And that’s when he noticed it in the corner, hanging upon one of the closets. Wrinkled and old, but definitely once Steve’s. “Is that my jacket?”

“Uh, well… After you died, I wanted to… honor you.”

Don’t get your hopes up. Steve told himself, but his heart was already fluttering. “I was dead.”

“Hey, let me grieve at my own pace.”

Steve laughed softly, smiling at the jacket. That Tony would keep with him something Steve always used to wear to remember him by making his heart soar. Then he remembered again. The diary. If Tony managed to find this jacket, surely he would’ve found the diary. Ask him. Ask him. “Tony?”

“Yes?”

“Did you really read my diary?”

The screwing on of bolts halted. Steve turned to Tony to see that he’d stopped tinkering with the thing on his desk.

“Tony?”

Silence followed before Tony spoke. “Why do you wanna know?”

Steve lifted an eyebrow. “Why aren’t you answering the question?”

Tony’s eyes darted at Steve’s, then immediately looked away. And if Steve knew better, he’d realize Tony was actually blushing. “Look, Cap, I’m sorry, okay? I know it’s a breach of privacy, or whatever.” Now it was Steve’s turn to blush. He felt the heat down to the crane of his neck. “So you did.”

“I--”

It was rare to see Tony so out of words when he was always ready for the wittiest remark. Steve didn’t know what to make of it. Did Tony despise what he read in it that much? Or did he like it? What did he feel now, knowing Steve had written about him in his diary, and drew flowers around his name?

***

Read it? Tony basked in it. Every single day of his life since the day his world went away, he drowned himself in the world Steve saw through his eyes. And when Tony realized there were entries about him, entries about him with flowers etched along the edges for Christ’s sake, what was he to do? Grieve over the chance he missed, living a life full of love with the man who had his affections, that’s what. Because Steve was gone.

Steve was gone. But he came back, and he found him, and now he’s here. And what did Tony do? Run away with his tail between his legs, that’s what. How was he supposed to approach Steve? Hey, I read your diary. You have feelings for me? I have feelings for you, too. Let’s get together. Not exactly the best way to woo someone. But maybe Tony should’ve taken it, because then he wouldn’t have to be in this awkward conversation right now.

“I know I shouldn’t have read it.” Tony sighed, putting a hand on his head. He could swear it was starting to ache. “But I didn’t know what it was at first. It wasn’t like it had a label on it, you know? Steve’s Diary, do not read.”

“But you read it.” “Yes, Captain Obvious. I’ve only said it like, a million times.” Tony rolled his eyes and looked at Steve then. Steve. Steve was blushing . Even the tips of his ears were red, and he looked so adorable Tony’s reactor could leap out of his chest. “Steve? You okay, buddy?”

“I don’t know what to say, Tony.” Steve walked towards the wall, leaning against it for balance. “You… You know now, don’t you?”

Tony played coy. “Know what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know ,” Steve seemed to speak against his teeth. “What I wrote, how I-- and you--”

A moment of silence seemed to stretch on for eternity before Steve finally said the next word.

“What am I doing? How could I be so stupid?”

Tony blinked, wondering how Steve went from blushing to rushing out his door. “What? Steve? Hey, wait.” He immediately stood up and caught Steve by the arm before he could pass through the door. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t like me.” Steve looked into Tony’s eyes then, standing at the door to his room in his lounge pants and shirt, so much hurt, so much raw pain. It hurt Tony’s heart the same, itching static between his body and reactor. “Not the way I like you.”

Tony couldn’t correct him, even if he wanted to. His actions the past few days spoke louder for him than his true feelings.

“You know what you read in my diary. I like you, Tony. I really do. But you-- You just brush it off like you never read a word of it.” Though a few inches taller than Tony, Steve looked so small and so dejected. Steve shook his head and looked away. “I’m sorry. I never should’ve brought this up. I promise I’ll be professional when I see you at breakfast.”

“No, Steve, wait!” Tony’s hands latched onto Steve’s arms, making him turn towards him again. Tears started to run down Steve’s face, and Tony wished he could tear out his reactor right now so it would mend the pain. “Steve…”

Steve pushed Tony away lightly, rubbing his hands across his eyes. He laughed dryly. “Look at me, a grown man crying over a silly crush.”

“That’s not true, Steve…” Tony held the other’s hands in his then, looking into his eyes. “I-- Honestly, I don’t know what you see in me. I’m an idiot.”

“Do you or don’t you make a point of how smart you are every single day of your life?” Steve smirked, though it quickly disappeared as he sobbed. Tony led Steve away from the door and towards his bed where he let Steve cry out his feelings. Once Steve was a little calmer, Tony stood up and sat on the other’s lap. The other’s eyes quickly widened in surprise, jaw dropping in shock.  “Uhm… Tony?”

Tony tried not to notice the flush of heat rising in his cheeks. “Look, I’m not so good at talking--”

That made Steve huff a laugh. “You? Not good at talking?” “I know, I know. I can barely keep my mouth shut. But I’m not good when it comes to, you know, talking about the real things.”

“Real things...?”

Tony wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders then, drinking in the other’s clear blue eyes as he spoke his words slowly, with much certainty. “Like how I feel about you.”

Steve’s jaw dropped again, and Tony swore he could just lean down and kiss him right then and there. “Which is…?”

“I like you, too, Cap.” Tony leaned down to press their foreheads together. All he could see were Steve’s sweet eyes, and his world was a little brighter. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick and that I avoided talking to you about your diary. I just-- I wasn’t ready.”

“Hmm,” Steve mumbled, and Tony could swear he felt that rumble against his throat from how close they were. He felt hands settle themselves on Tony’s hips, and Tony decided then to sit a little higher on the other’s thighs. “And are you? Ready now?”

“Maybe?” Tony’s eyes fluttered, the warmth of Steve’s hands on his hips surreal. He could feel a finger or two slip underneath his shirt and he gave away a soft moan. “If you are?”

“I am.”

Their lips found each other barely a moment later. Steve’s lips were so much softer than Tony could ever imagine. He closed his eyes, mastering the feeling of Steve’s lips against his as they kissed over and over and over. He bit down on Steve’s lower lip, which caused the other to gasp loud. And with the other’s mouth open, he took the chance to slip his tongue into the other’s, kissing him gently, with all the love he felt.

“Tony…” Steve moaned against his lips, and it rang sweetly in his ears.

“Steve…”

“Hey, Tony. Have you seen Cap? Breakfast is r---WHOA MY GOSH!! I’m so sorry!!!” Kamala had come into Tony’s room, causing their kiss to abruptly end as the two stared at the door in horror. Kamala stood there, hands over her eyes. “So all the Stony fanfiction were right after all? That’s so rad!!”

“Weren’t you the one who said something about knocking, hmm?” Tony teased her as he reluctantly stood up from Steve’s lap. “You can open your eyes now, little one.”

“Right! Okay! Sorry!” Kamala had the brightest smile as she put her hands down. She pointed towards the kitchen area of the ship. “Anyways, it’s breakfast time. Come once you’re ready?”

“Will do.”

“Good morning, Cap!!”

“Good morning, Kamala.”

With that she was out of the room. “Hey Nat! You’ll never guess what I saw.”

“Oh, boy.” Tony laughed, seeing Natasha standing right outside his door with a smirk on her face. “I guess the cat’s outta the bag already. And here I was hoping we could keep it under wraps for at least… a few hours?” Tony was surprised when a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, and lips pressed against his neck. “Ooh… I--I think I really like this development.”

“So do I.” Steve smiled against his neck before pressing one more kiss. “You can’t take back what you said, Tony.”

“No worries. I had no plans to.”

“After breakfast, do you think we could..”

“Yeah?” “Continue from where we left off?”

Tony turned around to see Steve blushing to the tips of his ears yet again. He smiled, and pulled his lover down to kiss him on the lips. “Of course, love. Anything you want.”

[star-whores-a-new-hoe]

Younglings//Obi Wan X Reader

Forever series: Part three

summary: in the wake of another attack, Obi Wan introduces you to some of the Jedi trainees

word count: 1554

Warnings: A few cuss words, me not understanding iPhones, Tik Tok, kids, (Yes children are a warning) angst, fluff, typos.

You sat curled up in a fetal position under the bed. The sound of Blaster bullets deflecting off of lightsabers as the Jedi knights fought off the bounty hunter that had broken into the apartment. You tried to calm your fear and focus on your breathing as the fight went on. All of the sudden, the noise of fighting came to a halt. Silence rang throughout the room as you held your breath, waiting to see what the outcome of the fight was. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, your hands were shaking. In a timid whisper you called out. “Obi Wan?” There was a short silence before you heard the sound of heavy footsteps approach your hiding spot. Your felt like your heart completely stopped. Had you just alerted the bounty hunter to your hiding spot? What was he gonna do to you? Was Obi Wan ok?

The footsteps stoped right in front of the bed, you heard whoever was in front of you bend down and lift up the covers hanging over the end of the bed. Your eyes met Obi Wan’s and You let out a sigh of relief. “Hello there.” He offered you a hand which you gladly took. “Are you alright?” You asked as you slid out from under the bed and stood up. You blushed slightly as he held your hand in his, enjoying the feeling of his warm calloused hand against yours. He let go of your hand.“Of course I’m alright,” he said putting his lightsaber back on his belt “I wouldn’t be a very good Jedi if I wasn’t.” Your sight fell upon the body of the bounty hunter that lay in the center of the apartment, another Jedi who had accompanied Obi Wan was propping the limp body up. “I-is he...” “Oh he’s quite alright, just having a nap until we can interrogate him.” You walked over to the broken window that the bounty hunter had smashed through. You stepped over the shards of broken glass and leaned against the window, taking a deep breath of fresh air. “I think the better question is are you alright?” “No I’m perfectly fine, not like I was attacked for the second time in a week or anything.” You said sarcastically.You turned around and your gaze meet Obi Wan’s, his beautiful blue eyes filled with concern. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little on edge.” You walked over to the bed and sat down, running a shaky hand through your hair. “ didn’t help that I didn’t get much sleep last night either, I had a stupid nightmare about some island and it was raining-“ “I had the same dream!” Obi Wan exclaimed. You whipped your head around and look at him in complete shock “Really?” “Of course not, that would be ridiculous.” He said as he sat down next to you. “Haha very funny.” You looked out the window again. You heard the other Jedi call Obi Wan over, he left your side to go talk to him. You two waited as the two Jedi conversed, Watching Obi wan and the He would cross his arms or stroke his beard while he was thinking. ‘Why does he have to be so damn hot?’ You though to yourself. After a few minutes, the other Jedi left to take away the bounty hunter and some droids to showed up to repair the broken window. Once everything was settled, Obi Wan came back over to you, his cloak laying over his arm, indicating that he was about to leave. “I’m afraid I must be going.” You nodded. You didn’t want to say anything for fear of sounding like a scared child, but you really didn’t want to be left alone the apartment. “Would you like to accompany me?” Obi Wan asked. You looked up at him with a weak smile and agreed. *** You stayed close to Obi Wan’s side as you made your way through the ornate halls of the Jedi temple. “Where are we going?” You whispered as you agusted your back pack. “I told you young one, it’s a surprise.” You couldn’t control the fluttering of your heart when he called you young one. “The bounty hunter attack was a surprise too ya know.” “Well this is one I think you’ll enjoy.” He said as you two turned the corner into a large doorway. You stopped in your tracks at the sight before you and squealed with delight. “Y/n, these are our Jedi trainees.” He said jestering to the room of five or six younglings. “Oh my god! Baby space wizards!” You shouted.

Obi Wan sighed. “I suppose that’s one way to put it. You really need to stop using the word ‘space’ to describe everything.”

“Not a chance.” You said marching into the room.

“Hello Master Kenobi!” Al the kids said in unison.

“Greetings young ones.” He motioned to you. “This is y/n, Master Yoda has asked us to watch over you all while he attends to business.”

You smiled at the nearest youngling, a young twi’lek girl grinned back to you.

“So what do you do around here for fun?” you asked the girl as several other children gathered around you.

“We train.” She said flatly.

“Yeah but like, do you play games or anything?” 

She shrugged. “Sometimes, do you know any games?”

You thought for a moment. “Actually...” You shrugged your backpack off your shoulders and dug through i. You finally pulled out your phone. “I have a few games on my phone!”

Obi Wan sat back and smiled as he watched you show the younglings how your phone worked. He couldn't get the thought out of his mind that in another time and place, you could have once been one of these young ones, training in the jedi temple.

He had been completely shocked by your midichlorian count yesterday. You had told him that there were no jedi on Earth, if that were so then why were you force sensitive? Could it be part of the reason you got transported here?

He shook those thoughts from his mind. ‘We have the book that got her here, we just need to translate it.’ He thought to himself. ‘We’ll have answers soon enough.’

“Hey Obi!” You called out, pulling out a pack of cards from your bag and dealing them out to the kids. “Wanna play?” He moved to where you sat on the floor and seated himself next to you.

“What’s the game?” He asked.

“Uno, it’s pretty easy you’ll pic it up in no time.”

“Well, I am told that I’m rather good at Sabak.”

“Then you’ll get this in no time!”

                                                         ***

When Master Yoda finally returned, he found Obi Wan sitting in one of the chairs, Amused as he watched you teach the kids a dance.

“What doing is she?” Yoda asked as he made his way towards where Obi Wan was seated.

“I believe she is teaching them something called a Tik Tok.” They watched you and the young ones dance to savage.

“I believe she referred to it as ‘the song of her people.’

Yoda nodded. “Take her words with a grain of salt I would.”

Obi Wan stroked his beard before asking his question. “Master, how are the translations of the book preceding?”

Yoda’s expresión looked grim. “Slowly they are.”

“Do you believe that y/n’s force sensitivity and the book are connected?” He said quietly, so that you wouldn’t hear.

Yoda hummed to himself. “Possible it is.”

“And I can’t tell her?” Obi Wan asked, looking at you longingly.

He shook his head. “Tell the wrong person she dose, would be very dangerous.”

Obi Wan stood up. “Well, I believe it is probably time for the youngling to return to their training then.”

You and Obi Wan bid farewell to the kids and made your way to the speeder outside the temple.

“I don’t think I’m ever gonna get used to speeders.” You said as you buckled yourself in.

“I’m not very fond of them myself.”

There was a pleasant silence as you two rode back to the apartment. You had really enjoyed hanging out with the younglings. It let you forget about your predicament for a bit and laugh again. 

Obi Wan found himself admiring you. The way the Coruscant sun shone in your hair, the gentle smile that graced your face, and how you closed your eyes enjoying the breeze. As much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, he was in total awe of you.

“I have an idea.” You said, snapping him from his thoughts.

He turned his head back to the air way quickly, so that you wouldn't catch him staring at you. “Alright.”

“Well, if I hadn't contacted you in time this morning, I would have been toast.” He nodded waiting for you to continue. “So I was thinking, what if you taught me to use one of those space guns? Or some of that space karate stuff? That way I’m not completely defenseless.” 

‘Hmm, well I don’t know what karate is, but I do agree that teaching you some self defense could be very valuable to your safety. I’ll talk to Anakin and see if he can help me teach you some basics.”

You clapped your hands together. “Yay! I’m exited!” He smiled at your eagerness. “I can’t wait to learn space karate!”

[moonlightjeno]

a/n: this is pt.2? or just jaehyun’s pov from this blurb. it doesn’t matter what you read first but i recommend reading [ 11: 13 pm ] first.

[ 1:04 am ] love. the way one’s heart can fall for another, it’s strings pulled by the simplest of smiles, or murmurs whispered by the other person, was never something that jaehyun had concerned himself with. he had never felt the urge to have that one person he could rely on, he had his chaotic friends for that, so when he met you it only seemed clear to him that nothing would come out of it.

Jaehyun didn’t remember who had mentioned the friends with benefits agreement, the more he thinks about it the more he’s convinced that neither you or him actually put out terms, but it was more of a mutual agreement. You were both lost, and needed something to feel alive. The last thing jaehyun expected was to get his heart dismantled, the strings pulled at from all different angles everytime the two of you talked about why you liked the night sky so much or how he knew, well didn’t really know, because you didn’t even know yourself how random bruises would graze your skin every so often leaving the two of you puzzled.

Jung jaehyun, had fallen in love. he’d fallen in love at the wrong time, the wrong place, the wrong headspace.

the party that was being held that night by johnny had been more of a goodbye, he hadn’t told anyone, only johnny had known the way his heart ached at the idea of having to leave his friends and you. you who had flipped his world, with your smile and laughter.

the music was too loud for his ears, the constant boom boom of the bass that echoed throughout the house shook the floor ever so slightly and made him shiver. before the party had started, he’d made the executive decision to not drink, he wanted to be present on his last night in the city. the flashing lights of the cheap disco ball that johnny had bought years ago, blinded him slightly everytime they flashed in front of him.

his resolution to not drink was forgotten the moment he saw you walk in through the door. all thoughts on wanting to enjoy the little time he had left with his group of friends, left him, as he stood in the shadowed part of the staircase, mouth slightly open, as he felt the world play a cruel joke on him. the music no longer boomed in his ears, and the yells from everyone around him toned down to a constant buzz in his ears.

the party seemed to move in slow motion around him, as he watched you move towards the center of the dance room, cheeks flushed from the beer that you held gingerly in your hands. the constant tap on his arm is what shook him from his trance,  when he looked down he found your best friend, body pushed up flush against his, as she flitted her eye-lashes. Murmuring words that jaehyun couldn’t quite register, his mind dazed from seeing you his heart aching with yearning for something he could have.

pushing the girl away from him was harder than he’d expected, and when he finally managed to get to the drink’s table yuta already seemed tipsy, pouring drinks in random orders. jaehyun truly didn’t care what he was drinking, but he craved the burn that would travel down his throat as he downed one shot, and then another, and another. The girl’s that he’d pushed off before had somehow found herself to be by his side again, hand in his, so different from yours. he knew he shouldn't, knew that it would only hurt him and you if you saw him making out with another girl, especially when it was the same girl that you had introduced to him multiple times as your best friend. But at this point he didn’t care, he wanted the ache in his heart to go away, so he turned and leaned into the girl.

lips meeting lips, a short escape to what he felt. he pushed the girl closer, trying desperately to get your taste, the way you looked at him out of his mind. the girl pushed herself closer to him, minimizing the space between them and he couldn’t hold the disgust he felt any longer. Jaehyun muttered a soft “sorry” before breaking away from the small girl.

the constant bass of the party’s music flooded his ears again, his eyes heavy with exhaustion from the feelings he couldn’t run away from, could cut off drowsy focused on the your figure as it stumbled through the houses door, heels in your hand, cheeks redder than they were the last time he saw you. Jaehyun felt a light pat on the shoulder, Johnny’s low voice telling him to “go get her” before waving him goodbye as he rushed towards where he last saw you, the chemicals that had blurred his thoughts before almost no longer there.

a small yelp of surprise, is what he received, before a weak attempt to push him away as you batted at his arms, trying to pry him off. But he held steady onto you, laughter escaping his lips as you told him to “fuuuuu if”. It took all his energy to not pull you in closer to him, and kiss your temple, your forehead, your nose and cheeks as you continued to mumble obstroceties at how much you hated him. he wanted to be selfish, for once in his life he wanted to go after what he truly wanted, you.

jung jaehyun was sure love had not been made for him, when you gave up trying to fight his grip, and relaxed against his arms. he was sure love was the last thing he wanted, when he felt the figments of his heart scramble together and intertwined with emotions he couldn’t quite place, couldn’t quite describe, as he carried you back home.

Love. love made one question the world around them. It made one question what decisions to take and what one should leave behind and what they should stay for. If they should give up their dreams, and stay in the world that was a constant pressure on who they were and who they wanted to be.

It was in small moments, moments like these where your head was leaned placed against his, and he placed you in your bedroom. The bed creaking, the noise making you stir slightly, made you grab onto him a little tighter, a little longer, and the bed he used to curse for being so loud he thanked for a second. Small moments, when he couldn’t control his selfish actions, as you clung onto his arm right as he was about to leave, so he decided to stay only for a while longer. Only until the figments of his imagination, could conjure up a life with you and store it away.

1:05 am and jaehyun has finally managed to say goodbye. as he murmured “i love you” into your ear one last time, the first time really but god knows the amount of times he’s wanted to tell you. 1:06 am when he feels the warmth of your body leave his arms, as he shoves his arms into his jacket the smell faint of your perfume still lingering on his shirt.

figments. figments to life, figments of love and figments to his imagination. Those figments, those that slowly piece his heart back together and it breaks apart because you somehow managed to loosen all the threads and become the one tie in his universe of loose ends. figments, he thinks is how he will continue to love you until he is capable of meeting you again, at another time, another place. because the figments of the life he’s imagined with you will either break him or be his strength.

one will never understand the way love works, jaehyung thinks. He would never understand why you came into his life the moment he would have to leave you. He would never understand why he loved you, so much, but not enough to stay. Love. like figments, like most things in life if thought of hard enough become figments. Because in the end, we are all figments of each other's imagination.

dt: to the two anons that asked for this and gave me support on my the precious part !! tysm !! those messages make my day !!