#i literally had to wash my face again before bed and apply something different

[hotgirlmeg]

moisturizer is one of the most difficult skincare products for me to buy

[aerkame]

It Was Just The Wind

Warhammer40k reader insert concept one shot (may be others...)

I have many fast thoughts and sometimes it's difficult for me to organize my ideas, but sometimes, certain ones stick, like this one. For my usual Welcome Home fans on here, I hope you don't mind, but there really isn't anyone doing reader inserts and I feel it's my responsibility now to make some. Concept: When you sleep, their universe goes quiet, a ghost town, save for powerful beings that stay behind, and you take the place of the beings that once existed there, free to roam around unbothered. For now at least. Read the bottom for details on this concept.

It was just like the other nights, all the same but also different. Once you felt yourself drift into slumber you had these vivid and all too real dreams. This was something you assumed to be just lucid dreaming, something that happened when a person became self-aware of their own dream.

That was until you got hurt.

You remember it clearly as if it happened just yesterday. In the "dream" there was the skull of...something. It was metallic and covered in neon green fluids. An object stuck out from the side of it's face, a chain-saw? Or was it a sword? A sword-saw you concluded. It was large but clearly man-made.

In an attempt to get a closer look, you slipped on the green liquid and landed on top of the strange skull. The sharp edges of the head sliced the flesh of your arm, leaving a long gash with no blood. You didn't react, not feeling anything, you assumed it was because you were dreaming. No blood came dripping out. It was as if it didn't happen... Suddenly feeling strange, you felt yourself begin to stir and wake.

Eyes shooting open, you looked down with blurry vision as a burning sensation spread throughout your arm. The bed was covered in fresh blood. There was blood dripping from a fresh wound...there was blood dripping from a fresh wound-

Panicking, you stumbled out of bed and ran to the bathroom, opening the cabinet to take out the first aid kit you never thought you would need.

You quickly debated washing the wound but decided against it, it's too deep to do that. You got the pads out and started applying pressure as the gauze was slowly wrapped around, finishing it off with the bandages. It was rushed, but that would have to do for now. You were going to the hospital even though it was late. This was far too much blood for you to ignore.

Getting in the car a bit woozy, you started driving.

It was quiet when you walked in, and surprisingly empty for the most part, only one or two other people were there. When a nurse finally checked on you, you gave the poor excuse that you fell on a sharp metal scrap when walking out in the dark. The nurse gave you a questioning look but got someone to start treating you regardless. You were still trying to process what happened...how it happened, still in shock.

-

The next few nights were absolute nightmares. You didn't want to go back to sleep after that. It was scary to think about. Maybe you were attacked in your sleep? If so, then you should have called the police to check the house. But then again, no one was there when you woke up. It was just you. All alone.

You grew sleep-deprived as the days went by, thankful you have a week off from work due to your injury, but oh, sleep culled you. Your body screamed for rest. So you gave in.

It was different each time like before. You have seen so many places now just by sleeping. Of course you explored with caution now, fully aware that getting hurt wherever there was, would result in injury to yourself here in your own body.

Eventually you had begun making literal maps of these places. Your memory was so fresh that each time you awoke you sketched landmarks and whatever else would help with mapping. It was strange and scary at first, but over time you grew to love these little adventures in dreamland.

There was what you assumed to be different planets with aliens and their own cultures. At least that's what you could guess from what was left behind. You felt like an archeologist almost. You did wonder though, why did everything look so fresh? There were no living beings around each time you visited, at least none you had come across yet.

Regardless of the strange circumstances, adventure called to you, so you slept.

This dream was different from the rest.

Tonight, you found your conscious in what looked like a cathedral or some kind of golden palace. Statues, stained glass windows, and art surrounded the halls. You followed along a grand hall slowly, taking everything in. You did not want to forget a single detail from tonight. It was beautiful. So ethereal.

Hallways looped around in one big circle from what you could tell, leading to a center hallway, that must be main path.

Quickly walking down the hallway, you stopped and looked up.

"Oh you gotta be kidding me..."

Stairs upon stairs stacked each other, leading up to what must be a throne room. Each step was human-sized, if human-sized humans were 7ft giants. You felt like a child trying to get up the stairs. But that wasn't going to stop the ever-growing curiosity in you. Lifting yourself up, you started walking up the stairway as best you could. One big step at a time.

Finally reaching the last set of stairs you sighed. You were going to be exhausted when you woke up for sure.

Rolling onto your side, you sat up almost immediately, not needing endurance in your dreams as you scanned your surroundings. It was more beautiful up here than anywhere else. Pillars were decorated in what looked like long strips of paper with unknown language written on them, something you saw often on battlefields attached to pieces of armor and sometimes guns. You wished you could stay here forever, it was so grand and dreamy to look at.

A small noise caught your attention. Something creaked shortly a few times before stopping again. You looked behind you for the sound, finally noticing the gigantic throne built into the wall.

There, sat what looked like the skeleton of a human, a large human. That must have been why everything here is so big. It's for these guys.

You slowly started walking towards the throne for a closer look, throwing your previous caution to the wind. The skeleton had wires and strange machines threading through the body, connecting to the armrests and behind the backseat. A single lens stuck out from one eye socket with another optic sealed behind.

Unable to reach the throne steps without climbing it, you decided to just look from a distance. You didn't want to be disrespectful even if this stranger was dead. Deciding to just look, not touch, you put your hands together to give a small prayer for the stranger. Whatever happened to them must have been awful. The prayer wasn't towards any particular god or religion, it was just something open-ended that you often did for others. Another creak sounded, grabbing your attention. This time the sound was right in front of you. You squinted...

The tips of the fingers were moving, gripping the very ends of the armrests.

Strong skeletal fingers left indents in the armrests, moving so slowly you wouldn't even know there was movement save for the throne creaking under the pressure. This person was still alive. There was someone alive here with you.

Your voice was caught in your throat as you looked up to stare into the skeleton's optics. There was no signs of life in them, no movement to take note of. So how is this happening...

"Ah!-"

You flinched grabbing the front of your head.

There was a sharp pain and then a swirling fuzzy feeling. It slowly spread downwards to the rest of your body. You slumped forwards before falling over, struggling to move your limbs that grew numb, everything felt so weird. It was like something-someone was trying to use your limbs for you, you felt like a puppet.

Struggling, you managed to fight back the numbing sensations and look once more at the throne. A single red eye stared back you.

The blankets went flying as you yelled, arms flailing and legs kicking now able to move. You sat stunned for a few moments, before finally processing what happened. "I think I need a therapist."

Looking at the clock, it read 7:45AM.

With a sigh you got up to make breakfast, maybe next time you'll find some answers.

-

It was strange. Well, everything has been strange recently. Rumors of The Emperor returning have been spreading all over the planet. But there has yet to be proof, only some bits here and there saying that the throne's armrests have been destroyed. Some say that it was the shear will of The Emperor's might that let him wake if only for a moment, and some say that the throne just needs to be maintained. There has been much speculation and no answers.

Whatever the answer is, it doesn't change the excitement that comes from said rumors, it has boosted the morale and spirit of mankind. But it also does not explain the memory relapses.

Everyone has experienced it almost daily now, even the xeno enemies that threaten humanity.

Short periods of times, usually seconds or milliseconds, lost. Not one person can remember those moments. It's like no one was around. As short of a time as it was, it still concerned many.

It's almost like nothing, but there was something. Who knows, maybe it was just the wind.

-

Some things I wanted to clarify about this concept:

The reader is not affected and can not interact with The Warp or deamons because the reader does not exist to them technically, they aren't from that universe. If a deamon tried possession it'd be like trying to posses a thought, not a physical being. Think of the reader as a projection or astral projection. You are there but not really. there's no real body...buuut, the reader can interact with physical structures or dead bodies. Things that aren't alive.

Because of #1, it is assumed that the reader can not be seen, heard, smelled, or felt by anyone either (unless they're powerful enough). Though I don't think you would want to test that out in the 40k universe, let's just stay hidden yeah?

Once the reader wakes back up, everything that did not exist previously in the 40k universe comes back as if nothing happened, as if no time at all passed. Save for the few beings that did stay along with anything that is dead. Some beings remember these strange events. They know...and oh, looks like you might have left a evidence of your presence behind. Maybe you aren't as invisible as you thought.

Why did this happen? Let's just say something or someone made a connection to the conscious of the reader, making them a conductor to The Warp or whatever was used to do this. It could have been anything really, maybe a Librarian? Perhaps someone greater did this...maybe The Emperor. He might not be physically able-bodied, but he defiantly seems to be mentally and phykilogically(phykerly?) there.

Forgive me if I got some things wrong biologically, I only have first aid training so I was writing based on that. You'd be shocked at how little blood it takes for you to pass out or die. Our skin also slices pretty easily so I wouldn't be surprised if someone sliced their whole arm open from falling on something as small as aa sheet of metal.

I know Warhammer 40k reader insert fanfictions are not as popular, but I really do want to explore that and come up with concepts that would fit and make sense such as this one with a 21st century reader.

[ptergwen]

love is more than a word

w/c: a very ouch 3.6k

warnings: so so so much angst and an unhealthy (ish) relationship

summary: after nearly four years together, peter has stopped trying

a/n: listen y’all i don’t know what came over me when i made this but i think it’s the saddest thing i’ve ever written? uh try to enjoy tho

-

you never thought this would happen, but you’re getting tired of peter. it isn’t your fault. that cliche it’s not you, it’s me line doesn’t apply here.

at first, you actually did find yourself believing the it’s me part. you’d came to the conclusion that you expect too much from peter. he goes to class, he works, patrols, sometimes parties, takes you out when he can. he’s got a lot going on for a full time college student, which is a busy life to lead on its own.

it’s why you don’t complain when he wants to spend the night in and order a pizza instead of cooking together like you’ve been wanting to try. it’s why every time your friends ask you two to hang, you have to reluctantly explain that peter is passed out at eight o’clock on a saturday.

there’s a lazy “wanna make out?” some nights, if peter isn’t yawning when he steps through the front door. even that has lost its enjoyment. kissing peter doesn’t give you the rush it used to, the taste of his strawberry chapstick not flooding your senses and intoxicating you. it’s become predictable. comfortable. boring.

peter is boring.

you’ve slipped into unspoken routine. say your hello’s, work on separate assignments in different rooms. peter eventually yells something like “babe, you hungry yet?” across the apartment, his passive way of asking you to make dinner. you usually order takeout because why make an effort if he doesn’t?

you might watch one of the ten movies peter has liked since before the start of your relationship. he’ll usually fall asleep during it. no surprise there. his overpacked schedule exhausts him, which you’ve talked to him about spreading himself too thin. peter is too nice and can’t say no, so this is where it leaves him.

the main reason you’ve stayed with him is that he can’t take care of himself. he’s clueless about paying the bills, sorting his laundry, simply remembering to drink water. peter wouldn’t be able to go a week without you. he even says it himself.

“crap, i totally forgot about these,” when you picked up his special ordered textbooks from your school library. “can food go in the garbage disposal?” a rare time you didn’t wash the dishes. “thank you, y/n/n. you’re literally a lifesaver,” whenever you do a task for him that someone in their 20s shouldn’t need assistance with.

you didn’t used to mind much. he watches over the city every night. you felt you should return the favor. spider-man could use some help, too. after the almost four years you’ve been together, peter has become completely dependent on you. it only got worse when you moved in together your junior year. you’re concerned how he’ll manage later in his adult life.

you’d think he’d be a little more passionate about your relationship considering how much he needs you. you know peter still loves you, of course he does. that’s not what the problem is. he’s become content with the mutual feeling, so he doesn’t try anymore. he expects the spark to keep itself lit.

no more random joke of the day texts that he used to send you. he stopped surprising you with your coffee order in the morning, the one that he memorized the first time you two went to a starbucks. what you initially found most endearing about peter was that he remembered every little thing you told him.

he put whatever energy he had into showing you that he listened. he’d do it all with rosy cheeks and that toothy smile of his. it seems now like he’s under the impression that being in a long term relationship means none of that matters anymore. there’s no need to impress you, keep you guessing, make you feel special.

tonight is your breaking point. as you go over all of this in your head while peter lays peacefully next to you, you can’t take it. you’ve been making so many excuses for him. you lie to yourself. you’re desperate to believe this is okay and normal and you can work this out, and you can love whatever version of him this is.

but, you can’t. you can’t do it. you need to tell him now because if you sleep on this, you’ll end up feeling bad and be stuck under these suffocating blankets forever.

“peter?” you whisper his name, your back turned to him in bed. you haven’t cuddled each other to sleep in a while. his arms don’t make you feel held now, they make you feel trapped. you’ve been forcing yourself to ignore his look of hurt when you reject his open embrace.

“peter?” you speak louder after a moment of silence, except for his occasional snores. a loud one escapes him before they stop altogether. his eyes stay shut as he mumbles out a, “uh... huh?” your heart is thudding through your entire body. you take a breath in from your nose. “i wanna break up.”

the breath you let out next is one of relief, those three words that have been scratching your throat for months finally out. peter slowly turns his head over his shoulder. he blinks rapidly at your motionless figure. you’re still not facing him.

“what?” is all he says. his voice is surprisingly steady, the confession not yet registering with his sleepy mind. his eyes are burning into you. “i wanna break up,” you repeat and squish your face further into your pillow. peter suddenly sits up, flicking on the lamp on his side. he tries to sling an arm around you. you move further away until you’re at the edge of the bed.

“i’m serious, peter. everything we had, it’s gone.” your words cut through him harder than literal knives he’s been stabbed with. “i- i don’t understand. where is this coming from?” he rakes a hand through his mess of curls. you turn onto your back, looking up at peter. his eyes are fixed on your lower half.

he’ll most definitely cry if he meets your eyes. he really doesn’t want to cry, not ever again when you won’t be here to make him feel better.

“it’s been coming,” you almost scoff at him as you prop yourself up against your pillows. peter’s teeth tug at his lower lip. “all we do is this.” you gesture to your bed, slapping your hand down at your side. “i get tired,” he speaks quietly, refusing to look at you. “i know you do, peter. i know, but you’d be a lot happier if you ever listened to me.”

your statement comes off as condescending to him. he works up the courage to look you in the face. “are you kidding? all you do is boss me around, and i take it. i’ve never once complained.” anger is coursing through his veins and voice. at the situation, that he’s about to lose the one stable part of his life. you’re getting pissed, too.

“that’s because you can’t do anything yourself!” you throw the blankets off you and swing your legs over the bed in one motion. peter hops out of bed entirely. “my whole life, i’ve been on my own half the time,” he spits as he comes over to stand in front of you. “sorry for taking you up on your offers to help.”

your peter would never spew that shit out. he wouldn’t guilt you for something he’s in the wrong about. this peter takes you for granted. he has no clue how fucked he’d be without you.

the first time you spoke to peter was on your way to history 227. you’d recognized him from your class, much more interested in the pretty boy taking notes with his tongue stuck out than whatever war your professor would lecture about.

he was carrying some books, a pencil case that didn’t fully zip, and a five subject notebook. you watched him do his balancing act through the halls until his legs started to wobble. a knowing smile on your face, you tapped his shoulder. it was a gentle one so you didn’t scare him and make all his things fall over.

“can i carry something for you?” you laughed out and pushed one of your backpack straps up on your shoulder. peter only stared at you, his doe eyes prompting you to reach for his pencil case. “uh, no, it’s fine. i got it. see?” he proved that to you by hiking everything up in his arms. he gave you a smile of his own.

“are you sure? we’re going to the same place,” you’d checked again and pointed at his impressive pile. “i’m not gonna steal your sharpies.” “really, i’m fine,” peter insisted with a heart clenching chuckle. “you can have one, if you want,” he offered and attempted to unzip his case, one handed. you put your hand over his to stop him.

“wait until we get to class,” you let go of him, leaving the tips of peter’s ears a shade of pink you’d later fall in love with. “i’ll sit with you.”

peter was once determined to do things on his own, to be self-sufficient. it used to be something he was proud of. now, he’s completely incapable of holding his independence.

“we’re done, peter.” your tone is short, you getting to your feet. “you’d probably forget how to fucking breathe without me, but call it bossing around, i guess,” you laugh bitterly and go over to your drawers. peter’s face falls as he grabs your wrist, stopping you when you pass by him. “where are you going?”

no answer. you pull yourself out of his grasp with your lips pressed into a stern line. peter follows you step by step over to the dresser. “wait, wait. don’t leave, baby. please,” he begs you, getting onto his knees beside you. you’re pulling random clothes out as quick as you can. a science t-shirt peter outgrew is in your hands.

peter used to give you all his old clothes. the signature smell of his cologne lingered no matter how many times you washed them. they kept you calm on nights he was out late patrolling or away on missions. peter would sport a smirk whenever you wore them out in public, pulling you closer to him and complimenting the look.

it started when he was packing for his first mission since you two had begun living together. he’d realized he became too buff to fit in some shirts. remembering how many times you’d giggle at their funny sayings, peter gave them to you. you threw one on and thanked him with a peck on the cheek. it became your tradition.

peter would set off for a new continent, but a piece of him would stay home with you.

the stretched out hoodies and ripped sweatpants just sit in your drawer now. another meaningful thing discontinued. whatever he doesn’t want goes to may for donations now. the memory of what they used to mean to you makes a fit of rage burst through you.

you slam down his ‘find x’ shirt in the space between his knees and yours. you’re on a mission of your own this time. you aren’t going anywhere until you get rid of all the stuff that went from him to you.

“y/n, don’t do this. i- i love you. i love you.” peter chokes out, tears filling his eyes. his vision is clouded while you toss more clothes to your side. “i love you, y/n/n,” he whimpers again, and this time you briskly push the drawer shut. the whole dresser shakes. this is the most emotion either of you have shown in the past few months of your relationship. it’s a little too late.

“love is more than a word, peter. you have to back it up with actions.” you’re doing your best not to cry. the memories of how loved peter made you feel play in your mind. he briefly wipes under his eyes and shakes his head. he’s so oblivious. “i thought i- i did.” “exactly, you did. you gave up at some point.” your voice gets weaker as a tear drips down your chin.

you didn’t plan on breaking down when you imagined this moment. part of you wishes you could give him another chance. most of you knows it wouldn’t do any good for you or peter. you’re not right for each other anymore. he outgrew some sweatshirts, you outgrew him.

that takes you all the way back to it’s not you, it’s me. it’s really both of you.

for the last time, you pull peter in for a hug. the two of you need this. he loops his arms around your back, keeping them loose around you as he tucks his face into the side of your neck. you’re a mix of tears and sharp breaths with your chin on his shoulder. you bring a hand up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of curls.

he sobs right into your ear, effectively destroying whatever composure you had left.

even though you’re not in love with peter, you haven’t stopped loving him. somewhere inside of him is the goofy boy who asked you out on a post-it during class. the kindhearted man who gave so much of himself to the world and saved enough for you. the one whose fingertips left goosebumps on your skin with every touch.

seeing him like this, having caused it feels like a dull pain rippling in every part of your body. you’ve been there to soothe him during countless breakdowns over the years. you managed to stay strong for all of them. this is the only exception. he lost people, felt down about life, made mistakes. you were there to pick up each piece and put them back together.

the one mistake peter made that you can’t fix is not loving you right. you became his rock, his anchor whenever he let grief and sadness rule over him. you’d get him back to himself. he could’ve at least bought you flowers once in a while, or done anything that showed his gratitude. every iteration of awful put together isn’t enough to describe how he feels.

“i’m so- i’m so fucking sorry, baby. i don’t deserve you. i never have,” peter murmurs as he cries, wetting your skin that his face is still pressed into. your fingers pull roughly at his hair. hot tears overflow from your own eyes. “i should’ve done more.” his voice cracks on the last word. “that’s all i wanted to hear, pete,” you breathe out and pull away from him.

“does that mean you’ll stay?” he croaks, arms still wound around your body. his eyes are hopeful when they lock with yours. a frown pulls at your lips. “only for tonight. i should... one of us should sleep on the couch.” “oh,” his voice is gravelly, so he clears his throat. “i’ll do it.” you’re not going to fight him on it for once.

peter removes his arms from your waist, you sitting back down on your thighs. you give him a blink and you’ll miss it smile because you can’t keep one for long. it’s to let him know you’re not mad. you were at the start of this conversation, then he took accountability. you also came to terms with the fact that the downfall of your relationship was a joined effort.

there are more factors than peter not giving you what he should have. time, different goals, new outlooks on life. you can’t hate only him because a whole bunch of things lead to this.

instead of a smile, since he physically can’t put one on his splotchy face, peter brushes the pad of his thumb over the corner of your lips. he gets up to leave the room, but you stop him with a “wait!” he freezes in front of you. you get out a hoodie from his pile of old clothes and stand up. “it’s cold.” you put it in his hands, earning a grin that he didn’t think was possible.

“thanks, y/n,” peter sighs and holds the hoodie against his chest. “goodnight. um,” this is the part where he’d usually say i love you. “sleep well, okay?” the replacement stings for both of you. you’ll have to learn to fall asleep without hearing that phrase first. as much as you didn’t feel it anymore, you’d become used to it. “you too, peter. night,” you say softly.

you head back to your bed while peter walks out the door. he glances at you once, and you’re already settling under the covers. he shuts the door behind him before finding his way to the couch.

your bed has always seemed too small. it’s gigantic without peter. you aren’t sure how you feel about that yet.

peter lays across the couch, the hood that doesn’t quite fit him pulled over his head. he’s only wearing it because you gave it to him. you doing that not even five minutes ago was how you backed up your love with actions. it’s so easy. silent tears spill from his eyes at the realization.

he wishes on every star that he could’ve figured out he wasn’t doing enough sooner. you’d be together right now, had he just caught on. there was a time he prided himself on knowing you fully and completely. how to turn you into the shy one with certain combinations of words, what your schedule was each week so he could plan his free time around it.

your relationship became something he thought would last unconditionally. if only he was able pinpoint the exact moment he went wrong.

you’re right in the other room. he can go in there and bawl, plead for you to take him back. how could he do that and claim to love you, though? you’ve made it clear you‘re over him.

the best way for peter to show you he loves you is by letting you live your life, without him in it.

-

you don’t see peter again for weeks. he moved back in with may, and you got to keep the apartment. you were the one who took all the care of it, anyway.

your semester ended at the perfect time because peter isn’t in any of your new classes. the city is too big to bump into each other. you’re free from the hold he had on you, which would’ve been four years long since yesterday. you’ve been good at picking up his broken pieces for too long, and now it’s time to pick up your own.

for all the hangouts you missed on his behalf, you made up for it. you called mj the day after your breakup and met for lunch. she never explicitly said it, but she took your side. peter had a feeling because when he had the same idea as you, to lean on his friends for support, she never reached out.

betty is indifferent, ned stays cordial with you. his real loyalty is to peter. you can’t blame him.

peter hasn’t been doing well since you broke up. he’s not eating enough, he can’t focus on work of any kind. you were right when you said he would forget how to breathe without you. he often wonders how you’ve been.

he finds out today.

you’re walking around campus, heading in the direction peter just came from. he has a class in the building your last one was. the two of you are on the same sidewalk, opposite sides. he almost doesn’t recognize you.

mj is on one side of you, a guy he’s never seen before with an arm around your shoulders. you’re all laughing about whatever dumb thing your professor said during the lecture. your hair, which is done in a new style, flows behind you in the spring breeze. a smile takes place on your glossy lips. the smile is directed towards that guy. your new boyfriend, peter assumes.

you look amazing, and not only physically. you seem happy with your small group of people. peter hadn’t been able to give you that happiness in years, so it’s nice to see you got it back somehow.

he must have stared too long because you notice him. you fall behind mj and your potential boyfriend, both of them wrapped up in discussing your next project. peter stops walking. you do the same. he’s not sure if he upset you, or what’s going on. his instincts tell him to apologize. his mouth stays closed.

that infectious smile of yours appears once again. you thought about peter yesterday, it being your anniversary and all. you’d only let yourself remember the good things. they outweighed the bad ones when you look back on everything.

“aye, grandma! get over here!” mj calls to you, your boyfriend nudging her side. “take your time, y/n/n. i’m not in a rush to write seven long ass pages.” you laugh to yourself at the two of them. peter fiddles with the zipper on his jacket. it’s from the drawer of things you used to wear. “one sec!” you yell back.

“hey,” you turn to face peter, who’s giving you a tight lipped smile. “how’ve you been?” “i’m okay. just, you know,” he shrugs and clasps his hands behind his back. there’s a short silence before peter says, “you seem good. really good.” he smiles for real this time. “yeah, i am. i hope you are, too,” you tell him and genuinely mean it.

you’d like to catch up soon, but it’s not right yet. you both need more time. “i’ll see you around?” you’re already starting to walk, backwards so you can see peter. “uh, sure. bye,” he gives you a quick wave and continues on his way.

you get back to mj and your boyfriend, his arm returning to your shoulders. they waited for you by the stoplight. “what’d ya get up to over there?” he teases, mj suspiciously watching your face for any tells. you carefully think through your answer with a grin. “love.”

[obeymeluv]

QUICK! KISS ME! [Bros x Reader]

A lead-up blurb before I go to bed.

School is killing me. This has been in the drafts far longer than I wanted.

No offense if your name is Bethany. It’s a name I picked at random.

The follow-up piece will have the kiss scenarios.

△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽

Some of Asmo’s friends may have used you to get into a special makeup event, but it’s okay! They bought you a lip gloss as a thank you! The shade ‘Sealed with a Kiss’ was not what you thought it’d be

△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△▽

Being one of the first humans in the Devildom could be uncomfortable and sometimes down-right dangerous! It also had its perks. To you, that meant being close with the Seven Lords of Hell (and Diavolo). To other lesser demons and classmates, you were kind of a ‘get out of jail’ free card.

Were they late to class? Oh, just helping the human out!

Caught sneaking in food or drink when they weren’t supposed to? It’s to split with the human, of course! They thought you’d love to try it!

Everyone was keen not to overuse it and you’d actually made good friends this way. It was starting to feel less like an excuse and more of a way to be included. You were the friendly, reliable human that had won hearts and saved some asses. As a thank you, one of your closer friends (a repeat offender for lateness), invited you out to an exclusive makeup release. She was a VIP member and had early access an hour before the store opened to the Devildom public. 

The fact that she chose you, a human, over some LITERAL century-old friends caused a bit of tension but she could care less. “I’ve seen them every day for over a hundred years. You get one year, and we’re going to make it awesome!” Bethany breezed through the store at a dizzying pace, picking through concealers and opening a box of mascara to look at the packaging. She moved at a pace only demons could manage; you thought you saw her by the nail polish display but when you looked again she was throwing sheet masks in her basket. Hooking her arm with yours, she picked up some foundation on the way back to the coveted display of lip glosses and lipsticks.

You weren’t totally versed in the differences between Devildom makeup and human world makeup. In all honesty, there didn’t seem to be a difference. Bethany swatched powdery cream lipsticks on her wrist and followed with ribbons of liquid lipstick. Every now and then she dotted them on your arm; she was adamant about finding a shade the both of you could wear as your thing.  

“This one,” she decided, waving the tube at you and booping your nose with it carefully. “This is our color!” she took you by the hand and joined the checkout line. She had two in her hand but refused to let you so much as hold one, wanting to pay for it first. It wasn’t technically breaking the purchase limit rule; if they tried to nag her she’d just say she was holding onto it so another demon didn’t bully you out of it. You didn’t know if it was her VIP status or the fact that her defense made sense, but you were able to check out without a problem.

A few sour faces and mean glares met you outside but Bethany ignored it all, eager to have a Devilgram-worthy celebratory snack break (snack victory? You know, since you got the makeup?) The plan was to eat, hold down a table at the nearby cafe while her other friends shopped, and have group makeovers (or try-ons) before calling it a day. That plan was interrupted three bites into a croissant sandwich when Lucifer summoned you back to the House of Lamentation. He’d gotten wind of all the girls you’d be with and didn’t feel totally comfortable letting you hang out with them,

Had Barbatos seen something? Did Lucifer feel spurned that you weren’t hanging out with the Seven Lords of the Devildom? He gave no answer, simply asking you to stay put while someone came to escort you back to the house. Bethany was put off by the turn of events but few people dared to complain about the Seven Lords due to their connections with Diavolo (she was no exception). “If we can’t get the full makeover, we’re getting the selfie!” she declared, deftly breaking the seal to her Sealed with a Kiss gloss and swiping it on with help from the front-facing camera on her D.D.D

You busied yourself with opening your tube. Before you could ask for her phone (since the camera was already open), she took the tube from you and tilted your chin up. She dabbed the center of your lips playfully before carefully tracing your lips with the color. The heat rose in your cheeks and she smirked. Being part succubus, she could draw energy from emotions like embarrassment and the feeling of being flattered. Her fingertips pulsed under your chin as she drew on that energy. 

Getting energy sucked could feel like a lot of things -- being light-headed, getting a rush of excitement, all prickly and tingly like your whole body was pins and needles. Whatever it was, it usually faded into drowsiness and kittenish contentment. She probably only touched your chin for seconds but the wash of coziness had you melting against your chair, your cheek cradled in her palm. 

Did she take the pic? What was happening? It felt like Asmodeus had materialized out of thin air, helping you stand and making small-talk with Bethany before pulling you away, out of her aura that was trying to suckle the vestiges of happy energy you offered.

“And what shade did you get on those pretty lips, hm?” the cotton fell out of your head and ears, allowing you to really hear Asmo now that the aura effects had worn off.

“Uh,” you fished around in your bag and looked at the packaging. “Sealed with a Kiss.”

Asmodeus stopped so abruptly it’d almost yanked you back to him. The two of you were barely tangled at the pinkies and now he’d completely laced your hands together. He held your hands captive, drawing them up in surprise and basically dragging you into his torso. You were forced to look up into glittering pink eyes and if you didn’t know any better, they looked a little panicked.

“How long ago did you apply it?”

“I don’t know.” you blinked helplessly at him. That energy suck thing had a way of making your brain tune out and turn to pudding. That aside, who knows how long Asmo stood there and talked to Bethany while you were being siphoned?! “Bethany applied it, not me.”

Asmo clicked his tongue, huffed, resigned himself to only holding one hand. and started scrolling on his D.D.D to find that selfie Bethany posted. You were being dragged along like a child as Asmo’s shoes clicked towards the House of Lamentation. It amazed you how well he could navigate his D.D.D with his long, painted nails. 

Whatever he was looking for, he found it.

Asmodeus tucked his D.D.D into his pants pocket, scooped you up in a way that terrified and amazed you (two people being supported by one set of heels?), and flew to the House of Lamentation. He didn’t always use his wings, as he preferred to decorate them and maintain them with oils, but the fact that he was flying made you nervous.

What had he found? What was the deal?

“Asmo--” you started nervously, the flapping of his wings nearly drowning you out as he pushed himself. Flying against the wind didn’t help. Your hair was a mess and the wind was in your face; the Devildom was always a little chilly but now it was enough to make your face tingly.

“She gave you enchanted makeup. There is a reason humans don’t use enchanted makeup.” Asmo’s pretty brows furrowed as he cut a hard angle and glided over a portion of the square. The tell-tale thicket of trees that lined the winding path back to the House of Lamentation were on the edge of the horizon.

“What’s going to happen?” should you ask that? Did you really want to know?

“You’ll feel something in your lips--some people felt tingling, some people felt pulsing, it can be anything, I think--and then they’ll seal shut.”

“SHUT?!” you yelped. It was enough to make Asmo wince. The startle carried over to his wings; they shuddered and locked; the two of you dropped for a heartbeat or two before he corrected himself.

“If I can’t get some makeup remover on it first.” Asmo panted, tucking his wings in and preparing for a quick descent. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought to teleport first--the panic? Trying to one-up Bethany by walking home and being extra cute with hand-holding?--but a quick touch down could roll into a simple skip teleportation and everything should work out!

“But my lips are already tingly!”

“Ugh, Bethany! I can’t believe you! I mean, I can because it’s you, but really, Bethany?”

“Asmo, focus!” you’d already skipped several feet ahead, clearing the front yard in two teleports. The third put you in the foyer. “I don’t want my lips to seal shut!”

The House of Lamentation was huge but when the occupants had supernatural hearing, that exclamation turned heads. 

“What’s this about your lips sealing shut?” Lucifer appeared at the top of his stairs, his head already shaking.

“DID YOU MAKE A PACT WITH A WITCH?!” Mammon screamed down the hall, clearly not far behind.

Asmo scoffed, lowering his D.D.D with a pout. He was halfway up the main stairs, fingers working at lightning speed. “It’s the lip color!” he explained, stomping his foot. Noisy people were just so annoying! If everyone was talking he couldn’t explain! How rude! 

“All this over some makeup?” skeptical Satan peered over the banister, book and arm casually propped up on it.

“If two people apply the color and kiss, they’re locked in a makeout session until it dries down. When one person applies the lip color, they can use it like a cheat sheet to see who secretly wants to kiss them,” his words tapered out from authoritatively informed to quiet and shy. “It’s from their ‘Liquid Love’ collection.” he muttered into the stunned silence of the room.

You were trying to open your lips and ask why. The magic had already taken hold. Asmodeus could see you trying to move your lips and strain your chin. Luckily, demons could read minds. “It’s because Bethany is stupid.” Asmodeus rolled his eyes. “Ambitious, but stupid.”

“Please explain, Asmo.” even when using the dear nickname Lucifer couldn’t hide the demand. His demon aura was creeping up his body and slowly becoming jagged and suffocating.

“Bethany has had a HUGE crush on our little human here, and wanted to seal it with a kiss, so to speak.” Asmo’s cheeks got pinker and pinker as he explained. Mostly because he was mad he didn’t think about it. His heart did something funny at the thought of you kissing someone else. Lucifer also looked like he wanted to murder someone about now, and Asmo had to remind himself that he was being looked through, not looked at.   

“Just grab a napkin and wipe it off.” Mammon shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Asmodeus shook his head angrily. “It’s too late now. We need to find someone for them to kiss! Someone’s lips will break the seal on theirs...that’s kind of the point of the enchantment.”

“So they just pick someone to kiss?” Levi’s face was turning tomato red. Would it be him?! It would at least be one of them, right? What if your person wasn’t in the House of Lamentation and you NEVER SPOKE AGAIN?!

“Sort of.” Asmo patted your shoulders with his gentle, smooth hands. He started to rub them like he was trying to warm you up. Partly in encouragement and partly to get your attention because he could feel your brain spiraling down into panic. “They basically follow their mouth.”

“So that lip color is like a crush detector?” Satan abandoned his book at the top of the stairs and was now perusing articles on his D.D.D as he sauntered down the steps. It sounded like he’d found the one that sent Asmo flying to the House of Lamentation.

“Basically.” Asmo sighed. It was the stupidest way to confess to someone, he thought. Demon to demon, it was fine. Demon to human?! NO! The whole thing gave him a headache. The fact that Bethany thought she could just steal your little lips and be greedy with them was the biggest annoyance of it all.

“So,” Satan’s green eyes cut sharply from his phone to you. The corner of his lips curled up in a smart little smirk. He knew it was wrong to find your predicament so funny, but this was a very human thing to get mixed up in. “Who do your lips want? Who do you feel yourself being drawn to?”

[bunnykawa]

what are you doing, step bro? (sakusa x f. reader)

summary: To your parents, Sakusa was the greatest son. To you, he was the best big brother you could’ve ever asked for, but you could only find that out with a little force.

a/n: i literally just started college so i won't have much time to write but i have some stories in my drafts that'll be posted in awhile lol. should i open requests for haikyuu drabbles since they're short but still entertaining?? idek i feel like no one is reading this rn LOL but if anyone is reading this, lmk ;)

(edit: I HAD TO REPOST THIS CS IT WASNT SHOWING UP IN TAGS so sorry if you already liked this post)

warnings: 18+, incest, mentions of drugging,  mentions of somnophilia, mentions of parental neglect, noncon/dubcon/rape, sakusa is a dirty pervert i just don’t know how else to tag this, degradation, slight manipulation

"(Y/N), this is your new big brother, Kiyoomi," your mother said, holding tightly onto your small shoulders as you stood in front of her.

"You can refer to him as your nii-san from now on." Locking eyes with you was an older boy with long black wavy hair, two moles on the right side of his forehead, and a white face mask on the lower half of his face which blocked his nose and mouth. How odd, you thought. You could tell he was disinterested with how his eyes were blank as he stared at you.

That was the first time meeting your step brother, Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Being four years younger than Sakusa, you two never really got along. Of course you had to respect each other, but there was nothing to really talk about other than when his volleyball games were or unfulfilling small talks. Sometimes he would make snide remarks, asking if you even showered when your hair was only slightly messy or if a smart word ever came out of your mouth when you stumbled over your words. Sometimes he was just mean to you in general to the point where you would cry. You always tried to ignore it, though. That was when you were younger. You couldn’t help that you weren’t that smart and he was your nii-san after all. Your parents would brush it off.

You celebrated his victories together, only because you had to. I mean, you were the younger sister of one of the nation's top three aces in high school volleyball. There was no way your parents wouldn't celebrate. He was their pride and joy.

Smart, athletic, incredibly attractive — everything you felt like you could never live up to.

Your own biological mom so obviously and painfully liked him more than you.

Before you even entered high school, Sakusa was old enough to move out and go to college where he continued to play volleyball. When he visited during the holidays, you still wouldn't have decent conversations with him. He would still insult you. It even made you cringe when you had to call him nii-san. Why address him as your older brother when he didn't even act like it?

But you dealt with it because you had to.

Fresh out of Itachiyama Academy, you're focused on studying for entrance exams for colleges in your area rather than what would happen if you ever had to see Sakusa again. But, you were expecting to see him very soon.

Gentle knocks are heard from outside your door and before you can respond, your mom is already opening it.

"(Y/N), Omi is coming today and he's gonna be here for a week. I have to go to the grocery store to buy food and I'm gonna run other errands so it's gonna take awhile," she says, leaning her head into your room. You respond multiple times with "okay" so she can leave your room sooner.

Textbooks and notebooks are strewn across your bed with you on your stomach, trying to cram as much information in your head as possible.

"That means I might not be here in time for when he comes, so you have to open the door and greet him," she adds.

"What about dad?" you ask with a grimace. The most you would do is say hello and scurry back into your room.

She rolls her eyes at you. "He's working late again. You know that, (Y/N)." With a sigh, you agree and she finally leaves your room after bidding you a "goodbye."

You can't remember the last time you saw Sakusa, but it was probably almost half a year ago. Ever since he left for college, your parents were even more distant towards you. They probably felt like they didn't need to worry about you because you weren't doing anything important.

When Sakusa came over, he barely acknowledged you and you were okay with that because it meant he wouldn't be bothering you.

But that didn't mean his blank stare wouldn't catch your attention whenever you came out of your room to eat or use the restroom. The atmosphere felt...very odd around him. You couldn't necessarily come up with a reason why.

Suddenly, you hear knocking on the front door. It had to be at least an hour or two since your mom left and the thought of who was waiting at the door made your stomach churn.

"Nii-san is here," you mutter to yourself as you got up to open the door. Right as you open the door, Sakusa was staring down at you with the same blankness in his eyes from before with his usual face mask. His hair was shorter than you remember.

Mindlessly, his eyes seem to scan your body before returning to your face, making you feel self-conscious. You were only wearing black spandex shorts and a loose tank top. Subconsciously, you rub your arm and step back to make space.

"(Y/N)," Sakusa acknowledges you in a deadpan voice. It's no surprise to you.

"Hi, onii-san. How are you?" You try so hard to be polite, but Sakusa seemed to have a naturally dominant energy that overwhelmed your senses, even if he also seemed to have the personality of a jar of mayonnaise. You step aside so he can come in. He wore gray sweatpants and a black windbreaker that was zipped up all the way. As soon as he makes it inside, he removes his face mask, stuffs it in his pocket, and starts unzipping his jacket.

"I'm good," he hums, "Where's mom?" He places the backpack he was carrying on the couch and takes a seat as you close the door.

"She's out doing errands and dad is working. Do you want some tea?"

"Yes, please. Make sure you wash your hands before you do. Thank you," he said. You walk into the kitchen, muttering "germaphobe" under your breath at his extra request. Unbeknownst to you, he watched you from his place on the couch as you walked around the kitchen, pulling the tea kettle out of one of the bottom cabinets and looking for cups. His gaze followed the outline of your ass in those tiny shorts that hugged your bottom tightly.

"What college are you planning on going to, (Y/N)?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I'm applying to the college you're going to and three others," you replied from your spot near the counter.

Sakusa actually perks up at your answer. "Oh, cool. You'll love it there if you get in. Only if, though. You're not the brightest."

You couldn't help but let your face fall in a frown at his seemingly small comment. Quickly, you compose yourself and brush off his remark. You got the water boiling in the tea kettle and reached high for the teacups that were sitting on the top cabinets. Your stepdad definitely put them up there.

A presence looms close behind you, which makes your whole body automatically freeze and tense up. A veiny, bulky arm reaches up easily to grab the teacups while another one snakes around you to pull your tank top down as it was exposing your stomach. You're not sure if you're imagining it, but you definitely feel something stiff brushing up against your back.

"You need to be careful. Don't wanna hurt yourself, do you?" Sakusa commented, leaning forward so his mouth was right next to your ear. A blush found its way onto your cheeks from feeling him so close to you.

He usually hated being so close to people. What was so different today?

"R-right," you stuttered, "Thank you, nii-san."

Confrontation wasn't a strong trait of yours.

You guess that moment was when it started getting really weird between you two. You still had small talks from whenever he would actually see you come out of your room, but you wanted to avoid him as much as you could. However, that was hard when Sakusa insisted that you drank tea together every night and, of course, your parents insisted, too.

Your nii-san wants to spend more time with you, they would say excitedly. Better late than never!

Maybe if he was showing the slightest bit of interest in you, your parents would finally care about you. So, with much hesitation, you started drinking tea with your step brother every night. Sakusa even made the tea himself so his poor little sister wouldn't tire herself out with carrying that heavy teapot.

You're still not sure if you're imagining things, but the tea tasted different from how you made it. And you swear that the tea didn't make you so sleepy after drinking it until he started making it.

"Come here," Sakusa would say with a smirk, "Onii-san will take you to bed."

You would pass out before you even made it to bed, but every morning you woke up with sticky thighs, only blaming it on sweating while you were sleeping.

Until one day, you didn't drink all the tea that he made you. You still fell asleep, though. Your brain was hazy enough to make you lose consciousness as he helped you up from your seat in the kitchen.

Sakusa laid next to you on your bed. You were placed on your side so he could slide under the sheets right behind you to press his hardened length against your ass. This was his favorite part of the night. He spent a few minutes playing with your cunt to make it slick enough for him to let his cock break through your walls.

You barely stirred awake. Didn't even move an inch as he caressed every part of your body, from your soft nipples to the sensitive nub between your thighs.

He pushed the elastic of his sweatpants down to his thighs quickly. His cock hit your ass before settling between your folds. A satisfied moan leaves his lips when he feels your wetness coating the top part of his shaft as he rubbed it against you. He hooked his arm around one of your legs so that you were spread open enough for him to fuck you and rub your clit at the same time with his other hand.

He wanted that sweet nectar completely coating his dick. He remembers the way you tasted and how you came on his tongue the night before, despite being blacked out from the little pills he would dissolve in your drinks. You tasted so clean and smelled so fresh. It was impossible for your nii-san to control himself around you.

And when did your ass look so good? God...Sakusa couldn't believe he never noticed how cute and well-shaped you were. You weren't that little girl he met when you were both kids. You were pushing adulthood now. Still pathetic looking, still too shy, still small around him, but fuck, he definitely would have pushed you over the counter the first day he came over and fucked you until you were crying and gagging.

He continued rubbing circles onto your clit and letting his cock soak up your juices. Gently, he positions the tip at your entrances and pushes in slowly.

"There you go," he whispers in your ear, "I know it's a little big. Don't worry."

He manages to fill you up all the way, making him groan. Your walls were tight around him. He thrusts in and out of you carefully, salvaging the feeling of your slick interior.

But you didn't drink all the tea, which means that you could wake up earlier than he expected.

Sakusa didn't expect you to wake up now.

You stirred slightly as you regained consciousness. Although your eyelids were heavy, you tried to force them open only to be met with darkness.

"Mmm," you croaked, rubbing your eyes. The odd feeling of being filled up suddenly made you wake up more. "W-what's going on?"

"Fuck," Sakusa muttered from behind you. You felt a hard chest pressed against your back and...a hand on your pussy. No, something inside your pussy. And that voice was so familiar.

You quickly whip your head around when the realization dawns on you. What the fuck is happening? While your eyes adjust to the dark room, you see two familiar eyes staring straight back at you. He stopped grinding his hips against you for a moment as if time stopped.

"...Nii-san?" you hesitated. His breathing was heavy and he stayed silent.

"Nii-san, what are you doing?" you asked in a panicked voice. You quickly tried to get up from your position, only to be held down by Sakusa’s muscular arms. His hand wrapped itself over your lips to prevent you from screaming.

“Be a good girl and stay quiet, (Y/N),” he whispered. A muffled scream tries to escape your lips. He continued to fuck you slowly, leaving a burning feeling in your walls. The same sore feeling that you would sometimes wake up to within the past few days.

For a moment, you pry his fingers off of your mouth. "I don't understand...Why are you...?" You yelped in surprise, horror, and pleasure as he delivered a sharp thrust from behind you. The smack of his hips against your bare ass made you cringe and feel so disgusted with yourself. Nii-san is actually inside me.

"My poor little sister," he chucked darkly. He suddenly wraps his arm around your knee tighter and forces your legs wide open, your knee almost touching your chest. Instead of putting his hand over your mouth to shut you up, he kneads your breast. His hands were so large.

"You think you can walk around the house looking like a little slut in those tiny shorts?" He stretches you open with his hard cock with slow, yet hard, thrusts. It left your mouth agape, but no sounds left your throat except for small squeaks that you couldn't hold back. "You stupid bitch. Just as dumb as I could remember. Fuck, you don't know how much I wanted to bend you over and fill you up with my cum like the stupid, desperate slut you are."

He was satisfied as you were barely fighting him. All you did was desperately search for something to hold onto and bite your lip because you were so scared. His words were painful. "Look at you. A waste of fucking space, only good as a fuck hole. Didn't even realize she was getting drugged and getting fucked every night because she's so fucking stupid."

Weak. That was all your brain was telling you, mocking you, as Sakusa didn't stop moving against you and insulting you. This wasn't the first time. It just so happened that this time you were able to wake up.

"I-I..." you stuttered, "I'll...I'll tell mom and dad." The sheets were gripped tightly between your fingers. "I'll tell them- mmmm...what nii-san has been doing to me..."

"If you tell mom and dad, they wouldn't even care," Sakusa said in a patronizing tone. The way his hand was caressing you made you wanna cry.

“They would!”

"Mom and dad don't even treat you like a daughter, (Y/N). When was the last time they told you they loved you?" Even if his question was rhetorical, your mind went completely blank. You can't recall a moment where they ever told you they loved you.

"B-but, this isn't right! You're not supposed to be doing this," you argued. It was a surprise that your mind wasn't completely clouded by how big his cock was and how his thrusts felt almost hateful.

"You think they would choose your side? You'd be ruining your own life. Maybe you'd ruin mine. And it'd be. All. Your. Fault." With each syllable, his movements became sharper. "You don't wanna betray your nii-san by saying something, do you?"

"You love your nii-san, right?"

You do. You love him so much, even if you tried to avoid him and he never said a single good thing to you in your whole damn life.

Because you have to love him.

You stopped gripping on the sheets to the point where your knuckles were turning ghostly white to brush away the tears rolling down your cheeks. Your body shook, from both crying because of Sakusa's painful words and how hard he was fucking you. The pleasure building up in your core was overwhelming you, making that intense feeling of having to pee forced out of you.

Hearing your sniffles and small cries, Sakusa pulls you even tighter against him, but doesn't stop his relentless thrusting. It turned him on even more. He pushes your hand to brush away your tears for you, like good big brothers should.

"It's okay, (Y/N). We both know mom and dad don't love you."

A loud cry erupted from your chest. Maybe if your parents cared about you, they'd be running to your room to save you the second you started crying. But, no. Sakusa was basking in the fact that you were hurting on the inside. After years of negligent silence, you were finally letting it all out.

"But nii-san loves you," he said with a smile.

Although his words seemed to stun your entire being, you manage to choke out a "What?" Like it was the first time someone ever told you that they love you.

His torturous thrusts almost distracted you. Fuck, why did it feel so good to have your step brother fucking you on your side like this?

"I love you." He sweetly grabs your face so you can turn your head to look at him. There was a pounding in your ears coming straight from your chest. A warm feeling spreads throughout your stomach.

"You...you love me, nii-san?"

"Of course I do." He was actually smiling at you, "If I didn't, would I be inside you right now?"

His face didn't seem so blank anymore. Sakusa never ever smiled at you. Hell, he never really smiled in general. Someone actually loved you. Holy shit. And he was even pounding away at your insides like you were a fuck doll.

Is that why he's so mean? Was he just trying to hide his feelings for you this whole time? You could die laughing right now. His cock felt so damn good rearranging your guts against your will yet you were struggling to accept it.

Your cheeks naturally puffed up in happiness as you smiled so brightly at him. The flip switched in your brain so easily. Without another word, Sakusa kissed you passionately, because he knew you would let him continue to ravage your body. Your hips began to buck from the pressure building up in your lower half and you starting pushing your hips towards him, welcoming his length inside you. It felt like you needed more of him. More of his love.

Love me.

"Nii-san," you gasped against his lips. His movements never faltered, which you figured was from his amazing athletic ability and stamina.

"Be a good little sister and cum on my cock," he coaxed. He could tell you were so close to cumming from how tightly your precious cunt was hugging his length and how you were squirming against him. You were both slick with sweat. As you started squirming more violently against him, Sakusa tightened his grip on you.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whined desperately, “Nii-san, I’m gonna cum!” You grabbed his arms and pushed your fingernails into his skin, making him hiss from the sudden pain. With a firm grip over your mouth, he muffles your screams. Satisfaction settled in your stomach as you exploded all over his cock. Your sweet juices trailed down your thighs onto the bedsheets.

As much as Sakusa wanted to, he couldn’t fill up your insides and see your hole dripping with his cum just yet. He quickly pulls out of you and lets his seed shoot onto the bare skin of your ass. The shock of your orgasm left your thighs trembling, your skin wet, and your eyes drooping.

“You’re the best little sister.”

You would’ve replied, but you could barely form any words as you lost consciousness again. When you woke up the next morning, you were fully dressed and cleaned up, with no stickiness between your thighs like how you used to wake up.

Sakusa actually cleaned you up this time. You felt your heart melt and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Everything seemed to go back to normal between you two, with the same small talks and not really seeing each other often, but he always had a knowing smirk on his face whenever he saw you.

Whenever his eyes would trail up your body to meet yours, you could feel a warmth in your stomach spread all throughout your body which forced you to look away quickly. Whenever he insulted you, you would feel your thighs press together. Whenever you caught yourself admiring his features when he replaced his face mask for a new one, you smiled softly to yourself.

When it was time for him to leave, you couldn’t help but let a few tears shed. He was all set to go, with his backpack on and his mask covering his face.

“Hey, don’t cry, (Y/N),” he cooed, wiping your tears away, “You know I won’t be gone forever.”

You sniffled, “I know. I just hate being here alone.” Well, not necessarily alone. You just hated being ignored and neglected just because you weren’t your brother.

“If you manage to get into my college, you can move in with me. How does that sound?” You instantly perk up and dry your tears with your shirt.

"Really?!” you asked with excitement. You imagine all the things you could do with your nii-san without your parents in the picture. You could go out together, hold hands, share kisses, just about anything. He could even fuck you whenever he wants.

These thoughts about your own step brother would've made you feel sick before.

But that was before you knew Sakusa loved you. Now, you couldn't help but ask your mom when the next time your nii-san would be coming to visit. While you were waiting for his next visit, you studied hard.

College would be so much fun with your nii-san with you!

Part 2

[itsthestutterforme]

Don't Pretend (Vincenzo)

Y/N is a very successful civil rights investigator and a friend of Cha-young. Cha-young called her when she needed help building their case against Babel. Chairman Han seo thinks she's a threat, but Jun woo thinks otherwise.

Pairings: Joon woo x reader (romantic), Cha young x reader (platonic), Vincenzo x reader (platonic)

--

I didn't even set foot in my apartment yet and Cha young called me for help. I love her and all but it seems like she's always in trouble with someone. She wants me to meet her at a theater because she wants me to meet someone.

She said it was urgent, so I didn't even stop by for food, so this person better be the President of South Korea or something.

I step out of my vehicle and walk through the entrance to see a swarm of reporters surrounding a group of people. One of those people was Cha young and I spin around on my heel, not in the mood for talking to reporters.

"Y/N!" Cha young calls. "Damn it," I say to myself before turning back around. "You didn't mention there would be reporters," "Surprise," she says.

I shake my head and she shrugs. I look to a random spot outside and say, "Oh my God, is that Jay Park and his new girlfriend? Look over there by the garden!" You point to a random couple that was walking past the garden.

"Jay Park! Where?" The swarm of reporters then went outside towards the garden. I roll my eyes and said, "They're like ants searching for food." I make my way towards the group and Cha young links her arm with mine.

"I missed you," she says and I grumble lowly. "Y/N, this is Vincenzo Cassano. Mr. Cassano, this is my colleague and close freind, Y/N," Cha young introduces.

"Seems like you're far from home, Cassano." I say in Italian, much to his surprise. He raises a brow at me and says, "I could say the same for you. The last I saw you, you were handling business in Siena."

"And you were handling business in Milano. Nice touch with the garden. It was beautiful," I compliment and he smiles. "Thank you, I try."

Cha young looks between me and Cassano and says, "You two know each other?" "Vaguely," I comment. "And who are they?" I add, motioning to the older woman, older man and two young men. "The enemy," Cha young says nonchalantly.

"For enemies, you seem awfully close," "Believe me, we're not," an older woman snaps. "Don't get your panties in a twist. I'm just making an observation." I snark. "Excuse me?" she steps closer to me and Cha young does the same.

"Careful, she hates being touched." Cassano states. "I'm heading back to my loft," I say before giving Cassano and Cha young a nod.

"Who are you?" The older woman asks but there was something about her that urked me. I give her a once over before walking back through the entrance.

--

"She's Y/N Y/L/N, a civil rights investigator and the top in her firm. Not only that, but she has correlations with mafias across three different continents. She has the resources to take us down," Han seo says and a small smile creeps on Joon woo's lips. "Why are you smiling?" Han seo asks.

"She's very accomplished," Jun woo answers. "And it's her accomplishments that scare me, brother." "Don't be. I'll handle her," "Handle her how? Like kill her?" "I don't want to, she seems interesting. But I will if she continues to be a threat to us."

--

I have to get back into the my workouts. I feel like I've put on a little weight while I was in Italy. It's not like I had any choice. Telling Nonna no is like kicking a puppy, no one can do it. Nonna offers you food, you always say yes. That's an unwritten rule that everyone follows.

My sneakers wrap around perfectly around my feet and I could barely feel the ground when I ran through the city park. I always make sure that it was light enough for things to be visible but early enough that there was only a handful of people in the park itself.

I was on my third and final loop when I saw the black van move across the street and park next to the sidewalk I was running on. I stopped to catch my breath for a moment before running in the other direction. I hear a door open and several footsteps run behind me.

I grab the nearest thick branch I could find and wait until they were close enough. I swing the branch as hard as I could, hitting three men in the face. They fell to the ground and I focus on the two guys rushing towards me at once. I duck around one and punched the other in the throat, leaving me with just the one man.

I bring up my guard and shuffle my feet but the man runs in back into the van and drives away. "You okay?" A voice asks from behind me and I feel a hand on my shoulder. I spin around and kick his leg out from under him. He falls to the ground and I apply pressure to his chest.

"Relax. I'm not the bag guy here." He strains. "Wait a minute, I know you. You're the-" "A friend of Cha young." He places his hand on my outter thigh and I say, "I wouldn't know if friend is a term I would use. She called you the enemy."

"She was referring to the rest of them," "What ever helps you sleep at night." I finally stand up from his chest and he takes a deep breath.

He stands up from the ground and that's when I notice that he was shirtless. My eyes softly scan the smooth, tanned skin of his pecks. My eyes snap up to meet his and he cocks his head teasingly.

"Speechless?" "I'll never give you that satisfaction," I snark as he steps closer to me so I have to look straight up just to meet his eyes.

The next thing I knew, I am washing off his touch and scent in the shower. Well trying to anyway. Halfway through my shower, he decided to join me and trail his hands down my hips.

I moan softly when he presses my body the cold tiled wall and kisses my neck. He hooks one of my legs around his waist and slowly trails his hand along my inner thigh.

My phone blades, scaring us both. I pull away from him and he says, "Just ignore it." "She's been calling me all day, she already knows that something is up." I walk out of the shower and dry my feet before wrapping a towel around my body.

I answer the phone and Cha young yells, "About time! Where have you been!" "I, uh, I went shopping. There was no food in my refridgerator or cabinets." I answer calmly.

"Don't you have a maid for that?" "I'm not lazy enough to have a maid, Cha young." "Well, you had me worried. I thought someone took you hostage or something." She finally says without yelling.

"You really think they are capable of that?" "They are capable of many things. Be careful, Y/L/N." Vincenzo says in Italian.

"Bene, ciao," I say before hanging up. I turn around to see Joon woo inches away from my face. "Did you enjoy the past few hours?" I ask. He steps closer to me and motions to the scratches on his chest from my nails.

"What do you think?" He says softly. There's just something about him speaking softly that makes my knees buckle. The worst part is, I think he knows that.

"Good, because that's the last time that'll happen." "Do you know how many times I've heard that? And how many crawled back to me?" He says cockily. "Yes, but I'm sure you'll be the one crawling." I say, tapping his chest before walking out of the bathroom.

--

My worst nightmare came true today. One of my closest friends was murdered last night by a rival mob leader. The boss says not to engage them and that he will handle it, and my anger dwindled down to sadness. I took a day to myself and cried my eyes out in my bed.

Goosebumps littered my body as cold chills rolled through. I wince as the cold, damp fabric of the t-shirt grazes over my warm back and I took it as a sign to hop in the shower. Squatting down on the shower floor, I duck my head under the scalding hot water. The water rakes through my hair and trails down my body when I hear the doorbell ring.

I dry myself and slide on some shorts and a sweatshirt Joon woo gifted me in attempt to see me again. It took Joon woo two weeks before realizing that I wasn't going back to him. After wards, he sent me flowers, teddy bears, sweatshirts and a 10k watch that looked like it costed a fortune.

I gave the teddy bears and flowers to random people in the street and the watch to Cha young and the look on Jun woo's face when he realized it was the gift he gave was aboslutely priceless. But I gladly kept the sweatshirts because they were too cute to give up. I walk down the stairs and wipe away my tears before opening the door.

Joon woo stands in the door way and he looked happy about something. But his smile soon falls when he sees that I've been crying. "You've been crying. What happened?" He tried reaching for my face but I slap his hand away. "Stop. Don't pretend like you care about me." I snap but he lunges forward to grab my face.

I take a few steps back and his hold on my face softens. "Of course, I care about you." He says, caressing my cheeks with his thumbs. He takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom. I sniffle and wipe away more of my tears. I always hated crying in front of people, it made me feel weak.

He grabbed the remote and sat on the bed. He pulled himself to the head of the bed and takes me with him. He pulls me between his legs and leans my back into his chest.

He searches through the channels and stopped at a cartoon before wrapping one arm along the clavicle of my neck. He wraps the other across my waist and says, "You don't have to talk if you don't want to."

"Why are you here, Joon woo?" I croak, wiping away my tears. "We won our settlement case and I wanted to celebrate with you." "We're literally enemies," "Isn't that how it always is? Enemies and polar opposites attracted to each other?" He asks and I look up to meet his gaze from behind.

He examines my face as he waits for a response. "I guess that is how it goes, isn't it " I lean on his shoulder and he presses the side of his face against my temple. "I lost my best friend today," I add with a sigh.

[corpseblouse]

the nameless boy pt. 1

word count: 2.1k

warnings: corruption + slight yandere!shinsou + fingering + virgin!reader + innocent!reader + pet name kitten used + slight manipulation ? maybe ? + marking + possessiveness + slight jealousy + slight mention of stalking

includes: f!reader, hitoshi shinsou

a/n: hey!! i really hope you guys like this fic! i was literally blushing so hard when writing thisjsbddn, but i think i really really like it and it may be my best writing so far. anyway, i hope you enjoy!! and this is my first time writing a “dark” fic so please bare with me. i also forgot to mention that there will be a part two to this coming soon!

navigation

hitoshi shinsou was not a name you were necessarily familiar with, of course you knew he was one of the former ua students who was gifted with an undeniably strong (and borderline criminal) quirk, but who didn’t know that? everyone knew what hitoshi shinsou was capable of, but no one really knew who hitoshi shinsou was.

no one knew that hitoshi shinsou had a growing urge to stroke your face while you slept. no one knew that hitoshi shinsou yearned for your attention when you directed it towards some other douche out in public.

just one look, one glance, one smile… that’s almost everything he wanted. he wanted your innocence, he wanted to taint you with his corruption, because maybe then, will that make him feel whole again.

shinsou often lied awake late at night, hand tightly wrapped around his cock, head thrown back, and imagination flowing.

he thought about you.

he thought about the soft skin of your thighs connecting with his, your cheeks flushing a bright red as he whispered the dirty thoughts he kept bottled up inside his mind. he thought about the way your hands would tremble, grabbing onto his upper arms and piercing his skin with your blunt nails.

and your cunt… oh how he thought about how warm and velvety your walls would be. how you would cling onto him like a vice as he slowly rolled his hips into yours.

shinsou was desperate to hear whines and whimpers come out of your mouth, and was especially desperate to hear his name come out of your mouth. he’d imagine how it would sound, so soft and sweet; something he’d want to hear at every hour of the day. he’d imagine the way your mewls would flow through his ears, it would definitely be an addicting sound to him.

but he knew how you really were, there was no chance that you would want or even should do things of that nature.

shinsou tried so hard to want to conserve your innocence, he tried so hard to push his dirty thoughts to the side. but there’s always that lewd image of you, on your back, staring up at him with tears welling up in your soft eyes.

the thought of it drives him crazy, feral almost. he knew he had to have you.

you, on the other hand, had different thoughts; you craved physical affection. you craved that one on one connection with a person of interest, the longing, the romance, the passion, you craved all of it. but, no boy was interested in you. you were the rut of the group, not having a flashy quirk made you sink into the shadows where no one saw you.

no one, except for hitoshi shinsou.

there were numerous occasions where you’ve caught him staring at you at random places. stores, cafes, bus stops, but it was something you had always brushed off as a coincidence. his lingering gaze was strong, piercing almost, it instantly made you cower away and want to hide yourself from everyone. he made you nervous.

you didn’t even know his name, but you wanted to.

you felt yourself growing needier and needier as his gaze grew stronger and stronger. this was the most male attention you’ve ever gotten, and even if it was from some random, nameless boy, you were still aching for him.

you would feel your thighs clench together at thoughts of him. thoughts of his hands running up and down your bare legs, dragging all the way up to your cunt, dripping with need.

you weren’t used to these thoughts, though. you weren’t used to the tantalizing thoughts that deeply corrupted your once innocent mind. but boy, were you obsessed with the feeling. you were craving something you didn’t even know you needed. you were craving the nameless boy’s touch, you were needy to release the ache in your core.

shinsou noticed the way you would act around him, biting the tip of your pen, crossing your legs unbearably tight when he came around, and he just couldn’t wait any longer. he needed you, you both almost needed each other.

that’s when he decided to ask you out, it was your first interaction with each other, and to call it awkward was a complete understatement.

you both were a total mess, stuttering over your words, hands twiddling together, shy smiles and touches directed towards each other. it was sickly cute.

you could tell how much he liked you from the get go, the way his eyes twinkled when he looked at you was a dead give away. it made your need for physical affection grow even stronger, unbearably stronger.

you both were absolutely inseparable.

hand holding, neck and cheek kissing, cuddling, dinner dates, movie dates, it was everything you could’ve dreamed of and more.

shinsou was beyond happy with this outcome, it was everything he wanted. his crave for your touch grew exponentially, he loved dancing his fingertips along the plush of your thigh, lightly squeezing and scratching his nails down your thighs to see a red trail left behind.

you were finally his, and he was finally going to taint you.

his insatiable desires seemed to grow as he lay on top of your bare body, still fully clothed. your thighs are clenched shut, eyes teary, and trembling hands clenched onto this biceps. it was just like how he imagined! he contently sighed, knowing that he’ll finally be able to feed into his needs.

“are you sure this is okay, kitten?” shinsou’s voice seemed to rumble out of his mouth, making you cower deeper into the bed.

you were absolutely terrified, with this being your first time getting touched you couldn’t help but overthink every possibility. you feel lightheaded as your thoughts seemed to swirl around you. although this was something you wanted, you couldn’t help the thoughts filling your head.

you felt like everything was moving too fast, just two months prior he was known as “the nameless boy” to you. he was nothing but a stranger whom you never came in contact with, a stranger whom you secretly admired, and a stranger who had a growing obsession with you.

but here you are, laid beneath him, bare and vulnerable.

your hands unknowingly travel up to your breasts, covering them with each of your hands, you feel shinsou’s gaze travel to your hands, “ah ah ah, don’t hide yourself from me, kitty.” he tuts, gently moving your hands away.

he kisses each of your fingers, starting with your thumb. you feel yourself visibly relaxing as his lips travel down your hand and arm. they’re soft and supple, they leave small sparks throughout your arm making your legs weak, causing them to slightly spread apart.

shinsou’s lips lead to your bare breasts, he kisses around your areola before catching one of your hardened buds into his mouth. the feeling is foreign, and not like something you’ve ever experienced before, which wasnt really much.

you whimper as you feel a sharp pain coming from your breast, you look down and see hard eyes already on you. shinsou let’s go of your aching bud with a pop, “keep your eyes on me.” he says, there’s something a little off about him… he’s not the soft shinsou you know. it’s like something washed over him and he became this ravenous man.

you slightly nod your head, fingers tightly gripping the bed sheets. “use your words.” he demands, grabbing onto your jaw and forcing your mouth open.

“yes, shinsou.” you whisper out, not trusting your own voice.

his eyes almost roll the the back of your head at the sound of you saying his name, it was like warm honey oozing out of your mouth. something he can easily become addicted to, something he’s already addicted to.

obviously satisfied with your answer, shinsou let’s go of your jaw and trails his hand down towards your thigh. your legs were still closed, but were relaxing under his warm touch. it seemed like all of your worries went away as he touched you, the sparks flowing through your body intensifying the longer his hands stayed on you, it was addicting. you felt like you were getting high from his touch, your eyes were glossing over, while your body felt like it was floating the more he kissed and teased you, you were on cloud nine.

he notices the way your eyes look dazed and glossed over as you look at him, he can’t help but grow hungry for more at how easily you fell victim to his touches. how easily you completely submitted to him, letting him do what he wants to you, letting him make you feel good.

he coaxes your legs open, bending them up so he can comfortably fit between them. his lips are back on you, trailing up to your neck where he can finally mark what's his. he nips and sucks at your smooth skin, relishing in the way your quiet moans and whines fill his ears. it makes him desperate to hear more, he becomes addicted to the sound.

as he’s leaving marks on your neck, his hands massage your inner thigh, getting closer and closer to your sopping cunt. your hips slightly buck up into his hands, desperately wanting more. he nips at your neck, silently telling you to stay still.

“please, i want more.” you beg, not being able to hold it in much longer.

“shh… i got you, baby.” he reassures, finally reaching your aching cunt. his fingers lightly tease your hardening clit, encircling the bud. you keen, already feeling shocks of pleasure flowing up your body. shinsou applies more pressure, effectively drawing out a moan from your pursed lips.

“there we go, don’t hide those sweet moans from me kitten.” he whispers, bringing his fingers down to your drooling hole, teasing the entrance. the tip of his finger slides in almost easily, but the rest of his finger is a bit of a stretch.

“holy shit, you’re fucking tight. have you not had anything inside of you?” he questioned in disbelief.

“n-no..” you said, hoping that wouldn’t turn him off.

shinsou softly growls, sliding his finger deeper into your heat. you moan at the slight stretch, hips slightly moving forward to meet with the palm of his hand. shinsou places a hand on your abdomen, effectively holding you down onto the plush bed.

shinsou feels almost light headed at how wet you are for him, your slick drips down his hand the more he flicks his wrist and curls his finger. he pays close attention to your body language, he notices the way your body jerks and your moans increase in volume as he curls his finger into a specific part on your spongy walls. he makes sure to abuse that spot, hitting it over and over again to ensure that your first orgasm was one that would never compare to others’.

his fingers pick up its pace, continuously hitting that spot that has your toes curling and head rolling back. his head is rested against your thigh, sucking and biting marks onto your flushed skin. marking you as his.

your hips stutter and your thighs threaten to close, shinsou leans his body upright, preparing for your incoming orgasm. your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel warmth rising up your legs. the pleasure becomes gratifying as you feel his pace become more brutal, he adds in another finger stretching you out further.

“ ‘gonna cum for me, kitty? ‘gonna cum real pretty for me?” shinsou coaxes, pistoning his fingers deeper than you thought possible.

“yes! yes! feels s’good, please i want more,” you whine out, noticing your vision slightly blur at the debauched sound of your cunt spilling with arousal around his thick digits.

it was indeed a lewd sight, you, spread open with your boyfriend’s head between your thighs driving his fingers into you, desperately trying to push you to that high. you never thought this would happen in a million years, you were always seen as the innocent girl that no one knew had a perverted side; but shinsou was the one to take that away from you. pure bliss overtakes your body, you cunt starts spasming around shinsou’s fingers, desperately trying to chase that high like a glutton.

“that’s it baby, cum for me. cum around my fingers like a good girl.” he coaxes, scissoring his fingers inside of you.

you let go, writhing and whimpering, desperately trying to hold onto something to ground you back from reality. your eyes are closed tightly, but you can still see the smirk etched on shinsou’s face. the smirk of a man who’s proud of his creation; a tainted little thing.

© all works belong to corpseblouse 2021, do not repost or modify.

[mxrcayong]

part of @nct-writers​’s cafe resonance collab!

genre: fluff, a more UK-based pov of university

summary: jisung, a college student now looking for a job, has decided to apply for a job at the local café. he thought being friends with the manager and its employees has it perks; from unlimited free coffee to whatever pastries haven’t been eaten by the end of the day. needless to say; the perks must end somewhere. 

word count: 2317 words

note: i didn’t make the divider!!

College students practically live by coffee shops. If university was a religion, the on-campus coffee shop would be the bible. Daily, college students’ breath in the coffee beans like oxygen, feel the permanent imprint of coffee mug or a ‘to go’ cup on their lips. They’re surrounded by the smells of different fruity pastries and savory snacks, and the sounds of students either chatting or typing away on their computers. 

It’s no wonder that the university coffee shop was practically a hub of activity. When you sit down to work at Café Resonance, it’s feels like you’re a part of a bigger and collective community, stressing for assessments or just taking a break from their hectic university schedules. It’s especially hectic when you’re a full-time student and work part time.   

“Do I really need to get a job?” Jisung sighed, scratching his head as he leant against the barista’s counter. His six closest friends were working behind the counter: using the coffee machines and decorating the pastries. “Can’t I just use your employee discount on everything?” 

Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows. “You know I want to, my little mouse.” He teased as he placed another order on his tray, “But I can only put the café employee discount on so many things.” He practically sung as he left, heading to a table to bring another set of students their own cups of their own ambrosia.     

From the cash register, Haechan had just finished taking the orders of the last bunch of the line and immediately replaced Jaemin’s place next to Jisung. “You can always just become a sugar baby.” He suggested, coming over to the display case to grab one of the pastries to heat up per the customer’s order. “Or a pole dancer… aren’t you a good dancer?” 

Jisung immediately protested. “Firstly, no. Secondly, is it even legal? I literally only became an adult this year.” 

“Actually…” Haechan started to counter, only to be interrupted by Mark approaching with a raised hand and a dirty mop. 

“Stop telling everyone to become a sugar baby.” Mark chided as he ducked to get back behind the counter, drudging the cleaning supplies with him. “You do realize that if someone does become a sugar baby, they aren’t entitled to paying for your shit either.” In response, Haechan grumbled under his breath as he gave the bewildered customer overhearing the odd conversation their fruity treat. 

Jisung has visited his closest friends enough to know that working at the café is like a beautifully choreographed dance. It moves like clockwork; with the six doing their roles diligently and without question. So, it’s not unusual for his friends to come and go during the conversation – all taking part whilst separating themselves at the same time. 

“Why don’t you just ask Chenle if you could work here?” Renjun suggested, coming out from the back room where he started baking some more pastries – obvious through his powdered apron. “We all work here already, and we can go through the ropes with you.” 

Jeno immediately stepped in and basically rejected the offer. “Do you remember the last time we hosted an event and Jisung wanted to help?” He prompted, before chuckling. “He tried to wash the food with dish soap…and he broke the broom when cleaning!” 

Almost as if the thought of teasing Jisung summons him, Chenle came out of seemingly nowhere. “Didn’t he leave the broken broom on the floor and just started playing video games?” Jeno, Haechan, and Renjun nodded – remembering the mess the 00-line apartment was that night.  

“Not the best party we hosted.” Jaemin commented, going around the counter to make his own drink now that the list of waiting customers is gone. “But, still, Jisung learns fast. I think he could work here.” 

Chenle let out an introspective hum, before leaning over to whisper to Haechan. With a questionable look on their faces, Chenle decided to call Jisung into the back room and in his makeshift ‘managers office’ (a perk of being family with the owner of the university café). “I’ll consider your application, but I can’t do any nepotism.” He started, “so, you must go through the whole application process.” He paused. “You must come up with your own recipe.” 

With a rule to not discuss recipes with his ‘potential future co-workers’ – which Chenle weirdly specified as everyone but Haechan, Jisung had to get straight to work. In all honesty, he had no baking experience nor ever made a drink without a guiding recipe.

While his six closest friends were out of the equation, he had another friend he could reach out to; Y/N. 

You were in his freshmen orientation group earlier this year. Not going to lie, you initially thought of each other as familiar faces who you’d occasionally wave at or nod in acknowledgement when you walk past each other. However, you later found yourself eating in the same hall cafeteria…and then the same hall pantry…and then, it clicked. You two lived only four doors away from each other in your university hall. 

Needless to say, you two ran midnight McDonald trips basically on a weekly basis. You became integral to Jisung’s daily routine; from waking each other up for breakfast to storming into each other rooms, armed with complaints and rants about the shitty professor who made you read 300 pages for one night. Even on your busiest days, you two would always pick each other up for the hall provided breakfasts and dinners. 

So here you were - Jisung was slouching down on your desk chair while you were resting on the bed, your back against the wall and a pillow in your lap as you tried to help Jisung solve his current problem. “Well…did Chenle give you a prompt or anything?” 

Jisung shook his head, groaning back. “It’s not like we have a kitchen to try and bake either! We only have fridges and a microwave and a….” He tried to recall what was on the floor pantry. 

“Just a fridge and a microwave.” You added. “That means pastries are off the table…how about a drink?” 

Jisung groaned again. “I have a hard time making pre-made coffee!” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle; you remembered that day. It was a scary time for you; your credit card company sent you a text about a fraudulent use of your student account. Not only did you end up stressing to the point of crying, but you also learned it was a false alarm. Luckily, while still reeling from the anxiety inducing news, you ran into Jisung as he was leaving his room. He then took you to the pantry to try and cheer you up with coffee…however, a fire alarm went off and practically deafened the whole university housing cohort for hours. 

And poor Jisung…Jisung was just an awkward little mouse, trying to look innocent as he saw his exhausted neighbors clamber out into the park due to his attempt of making pre-made coffee. 

“Well…you have me. This isn’t hopeless.” Climbing off the bed, you pretended to dust yourself off. “So, let’s go to the pantry? Another one of our…”

Jisung quickly furrowed his brows, interjecting while you still spoke “I don’t think this can be considered snacking…”

“Pantry-time dates.” You stuttered, obviously unsure of the title. Usually, you call them ‘cup noodle dates’ or ‘popcorn dates’; a joke that ran through your small group of friends as well as the resident advisors at the university hall. 

No one likes being in the pantry. Especially the second floor. For one, things always get stolen; from cutlery to a six pack of coke. Secondly, the few times people use the microwave to heat up their meals, they tend to leave the leftovers to rot on the windowsill. But you and Jisung sit there together; maybe because something about it feels open and comfortable, despite the terrible smell. Plus…the two of you placed bets on who could be the thief when people awkwardly clamber on by, and if on one of these ‘dates’ you catch the thief obviously taking something that isn’t theirs? Even better. 

But today… you two will have to be the forsaken thieves. 

“So someone put chocolate powder in the fridge…” You commented incredulously, especially as this fridge is known for freezing things into ice in minutes. “There’s some…expired milk.” Jisung watched as you searched through the fridge for any hidden treasures; feeling more and more unsure of himself as you listed more and more ingredients. “Oh, okay, some non-expired milk. That will be useful.” 

“We can make a latte?” Jisung offered, now on his phone searching up popular café drinks. 

“Yes!” You enthused, finally feeling like this trip to the pantry isn’t useless after all. “But…we should probably write an apology note to the people we’re stealing from.” 

It’s been almost five hours in the pantry. Countless of people came in (however, this time you tried not to place bets as you knew who the real thieves were tonight) and would just stare at the two of you, arguing over a kettle of milk. Even your neighbor Victor came in; having sat and watched you two for a good while (which made Jisung extra cautious; he’s had a theory about him being the forsaken pantry thief for a while). Victor, however, said you two should have a cooking show, to which you scoffed while Jisung basked in the compliment. This very same compliment crossed Victor off of Jisung’s “potential criminals” list. 

Eventually, you had a drink in front of you. A chocolate latte that Jisung insisted on putting salt in, as “Modern Family said it was a good idea”. Admittedly, the first ten versions of this drink were absolute failures; making you go to the bathroom numerous times to vomit out the thick and almost flour-like texture.  

So, for your final check, the two of you grabbed the non-eaten pastries Jisung brought home from the café. Hopefully, this will act as a palette cleanser; especially since tasting all of the failed drinks probably have messed with your taste buds and lowered all sorts of expectations. 

After taking bites into the Suh-ndwitch and Henpretzel, you two finally took sips of the drink you attempted to make since 10pm – with Jisung making far too many references to the Powerpuff Girls opening theme. 

Alas – the taste that flooded their senses wasn’t at all bad, no. Nor was it ‘a little bit of sugar and everything ice’, but it was something you’d expect from Starbucks. You two immediately squealed out of excitement, ignoring the fact that you probably woke the neighboring rooms up at three in the morning. Jisung immediately went over to hug your waist, spinning you around as fast as he could; before something unexpected happens. 

You felt his lips on yours; tasting like chocolate and leftover ingredients that were remnants from his palette cleanser of a sandwich. The feeling was foreign; you never expected to kiss Jisung. He was your best friend, your neighbour; but his lips were soft…and something about this felt right. 

But then the door slammed opened. A zombie-like RA came in and you two immediately jumped to different sides of the room. “I know you two always do your pantry dates, but…” The RA started, obviously sluggish from being woken up at 3am. “We got noise complaints.” 

Jisung awkwardly coughed, apologized, and ran away; leaving you confused in the corner of the pantry. 

Café Resonance were never busy Friday evenings. People were most likely out pubbing or preparing for their weekends of antics. So when Jisung stormed in with a recipe in hand, he wasn’t afraid to celebrate as loudly as if he had just won the Olympic World Cup. “I got the recipe! Can I please have the job?” He practically pleaded, dropping the piece of paper with messy handwriting and the sample drink you two whipped up again the night prior. On top of the page with chocolate colored stains were the words; “Hamji Choco Latte” with (served hot or cold)  at the bottom.

“A recipe?” Everyone but Haechan and Chenle looked confused; with the latter two smirking in the corner of the room. But as soon as Haechan cracked and let out a loud laugh, Mark turned around and immediately recognized the culprits of this misunderstanding. 

“Bruh,” Chenle let out throughout his charming ‘dolphin laugh’, “You had the job – I was just messing with you.” 

Haechan pouted, approaching Jisung to ruffle his hair. “My sweet, small, dumb idiot…how much I love you.” He placed a sloppy kiss at the corner of his head, making Jisung immediately try to scrub it off. 

Jisung scowled, upset he let himself get fooled by his best friends. “At least I got a girlfriend from it…” He mumbled, more to himself, but forgetful of how Jeno’s ears can pick up on anything. It was from my ASMR stint, Jeno would say. 

“WHAT!?” He exclaimed, as if Jisung getting a girlfriend would happen the day pigs would fly. 

“I sent you to make a café recipe, not a love potion!” Chenle cackled even more; while his fellow friends made him explain what happened. 

By the time the store closed, Jaemin gave Jisung the ‘talk’ and warned that although they spent nights in each other’s rooms before, Jisung and you must be ‘safe’ and ‘protected’. 

People always say the first people you become friends with at university don’t always stay friends for life. People tend to clash, find their hobbies, and go different ways. But Jisung was lucky. He met you; his best friend and now his other half. And despite the annoying prank Chenle made that wasted hours of your time, Chenle was right; the Hamji Choco Latte was basically a love potion as it brought the hidden infatuation you had for each other to light.  

Now, every time he picks you up from your lecture hall, he brings one extra-large chocolatey drink to share. 

“Email sent out to residents of NCU Hall: 

Dear residents of the second floor, 

The person who has been stealing cultlery and food has been identified. Victor Cho will be coming by to return any items that may have belonged to you.”

Jisung screamed at the top of his lungs when he got this email. “I TOLD YOU SO!” 

[astralpenguin]

@transnaturalweek day 6: euphoria

1.9k, ao3 link

“I want to do something to my hair.”

Jack and Kaia looked up from the puzzle they’d been slowly working on together. Claire was standing in the doorway, breathing heavily as if they’d been running.

“I thought you liked your hair long,” said Kaia.

“I do,” said Claire. They stepped into the lounge and collapsed onto the sofa nearest the door. “Well,” they said, “it’s not that I like it long so much as I don’t like it short.”

“Why don’t you like it short?” asked Jack. “I think you’d look great!”

Claire shrugged. “You’re not wrong,” they said. “I cut it short when I was like fourteen and it looked pretty good, except for how I looked almost exactly like my dad did when he was fourteen.”

Kaia winced.

“Yeah,” said Claire. “I’m not risking that happening again. No way.”

“But you still want to do something with your hair?” asked Kaia.

Claire groaned. “Yeah, something,” they said. “Mostly I just want people to stop looking at me and assuming I’m cis. Doing something to my hair might work, but I don’t know what.”

“You could dye it?” said Jack as he placed a piece of the puzzle down. His head then snapped up and his eyes shone with excitement. “Can I help you dye it?”

“Aren’t you God?” asked Kaia. “Couldn’t you just snap your fingers and make their hair a different color?”

Jack’s face fell into a slight pout. “I guess, but that wouldn’t be as fun.”

Claire laughed. “Sure,” they said. “Let’s dye my hair.”

Jack’s smile reappeared on his face. He jumped to his feet and ran from the room. “I’ll ask the others if they want in on this too!”

Kaia rolled xir eyes and smiled as xe stood. “He’s like an excitable puppy.”

“He’s three,” said Claire.

“And God.”

“And God,” agreed Claire. “And he wants to help me dye my hair.” Claire shook their head and smiled. 

Claire and Kaia waited by the front door for Jack to come back downstairs. They only had to wait a couple of minutes before he was bounding down the stairs so fast that he almost ran right into them, only just managing to stop himself in time.

“Alex said to leave her alone and let him sleep.”

Claire snorted. “Of course he did.”

Kaia elbowed them in the ribs. “She’s been on call for three days, don’t be mean.”

Claire gasped. “Me? Mean? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What about the others?” Kaia asked Jack.

“Patience said that they think it’s a great idea, and Magda said to get her some pink dye as well as whatever other color you end up choosing.”

Claire frowned. “I hadn’t decided on a color yet. I could’ve gone for pink. They don’t know. I don’t even know yet.”

“Claire,” said Jack, an overly patient tone to his voice, “Magda is psychic.”

Claire blinked.

They flung the front door open and stode out.

“I’m going to dye my hair pink just to spite her.”

Kaia caught Jack’s eye. They grinned at each other, and they both followed.

Claire did not, in the end, choose to dye their hair pink.

The store they went to to pick out the hair dye had a huge range of colors, and the trio spent nearly an hour wandering up and down the aisle and debating the pros and cons of each option. Claire wanted something bright, that couldn’t possibly be mistaken for being a natural hair color even at a distance, and even though they’d declared that they were going to choose pink in order to prove the psychics wrong, they ended up more drawn to some of the other options.

Kaia made sure to grab a bottle of pink dye for Magda.

Eventually Claire settled on purple.

When they got home, Claire and Jack raced to the bathroom, eager to get started. Kaia hung back, detouring to Magda’s room to deliver the pink dye she wanted. Magda and Patience were both lying on their fronts on Magda’s bed, watching something on one of their phones.

“You want us to let you know when the bathroom’s free?” xe asked as xe handed the bottle over.

“No, that’s okay,” said Magda. She put the bottle to one side and smiled up at Kaia. “I need to bleach my hair before this will show up.”

“Normally you would,” said Kaia. “But we’ve got literal God here with us, and he’s very excited about dyeing people’s hair. He’d probably be happy to help you skip the boring step.”

“It still weirds me out that Jack is God,” said Patience, not taking their eyes off the screen.

“Honestly, same,” said Kaia.

A muffled yelp came from the bathroom, followed by the sound of two people bursting into laughter.

“I’d better go supervise,” said Kaia, glancing around behind xem. Xe looked back at Magda. “I’ll let you know when we’re done, but there’s no pressure to do it today.”

Magda nodded.

Kaia closed the door to Magda’s room behind xem and went into the bathroom without pausing to knock.

Claire’s shirt had been dropped on the floor and kicked to the side. They were sitting up against the bathtub with their head tilted over the edge and hair loose inside of it. Jack was standing next to them and holding the showerhead close to Claire’s hair, running the water across Claire’s scalp.

“Hey,” said Claire as Kaia walked in. “Jack’s giving me the proper salon experience!”

“Why screaming?” asked Kaia. “Alex is still trying to sleep.”

Claire grinned. “He forgot to wait for the water to warm up first, so I basically got an ice blast aimed at my head.”

“The water’s warm now though!” said Jack, looking proud of himself. “I was able to make it warm up faster so we could get on with washing Claire’s hair, and so Claire wouldn’t be cold for too long.”

Kaia closed the bathroom door and leaned back on it. “Isn’t that an abuse of your God powers?”

Jack shrugged. “Maybe,” he said. “I don’t care though.”

Claire’s grin grew even wider. “That’s the best attitude to have! What’s the point of having powers if you don’t use them?”

“There’s no point at all,” said Jack, almost as if he was reciting something that he’d been told before.

Kaia couldn’t stop xirself from smiling as xe said, “Okay, but when his dads inevitably asks who the bad influence was, I’m pointing them at you.”

Claire blew Kaia a kiss in response.

Once Claire’s hair had been washed and the dye had been applied, they were faced with some time to kill before they could wash the dye out.

“We could dye your hair purple too?” said Jack.

“We can’t,” said Kaia. “My hair’s too dark for it.”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter. I can make it so the dye works anyway.”

Kaia laughed. “I told Magda you’d say that. Thanks, but it’s okay. I don’t want to dye my hair today.”

“What about you?” said Claire. “We could do your hair.”

Jack thought about it for a few moments. “I don’t want purple hair,” he said. “I think I like my hair the way that it is. I would like to paint my nails purple though.”

“That, we can do,” said Claire. They looked over at Kaia. “Babe, do you have purple nail polish?”

Kaia shook xir head. “I can ask the others if they have some?”

“Don’t bother asking Alex,” said Claire. “If you disturb his beauty sleep, she might bite you.”

Kaia paused with xir hand on the doorknob. “Are you speaking from experience?”

Claire nodded sagely. “If I didn’t know what actual demons are like then I’d swear he was one.”

“She didn’t try to bite me earlier,” said Jack. He seemed genuinely confused about the direction that the conversation had taken.

“That’s because you’re the baby of the family,” said Claire, as if it were obvious, “and nobody’s allowed to be mean to the baby.”

The look of delight on Jack’s face was almost blinding.

“Family?”

As Claire stammered out a response, Kaia took the opportunity to slip out of the bathroom. Xe knocked on Magda’s door and waited to be called in.

“Do either of you have any purple nail polish? We’re painting Jack’s nails.”

Magda paused the video they were watching as Patience stood. “Yeah I do,” said Patience. “Let me go grab it.”

As they left the room, Kaia turned to Magda and said, “He did end up offering to skip the lightening-my-hair step if I wanted to dye my hair too. So the option’s there for you if you want it.”

“Thanks,” said Magda

“Here you go,” said Patience, walking back into the room and holding the small bottle out to Kaia. “One condition.”

“What is it?” asked Kaia, taking the bottle.

“Don’t let Claire do the painting.” They smiled and shrugged. “I’ve seen what their nail polish looks like, and I actually try to keep mine neat.”

Claire only owned a single bottle of silver nail polish. It was only ever applied to the nails on their toes, and the bottle was covered in splashes of nail polish from the many times that Claire had not been paying close enough attention to what they were doing when using it.

“You’ve got it,” said Kaia.

Claire only grumbled a little when Kaia relayed Patience’s condition to them. They couldn’t deny that Patience had a point. The minor disaster zone that was Claire’s single bottle of nail polish spoke for itself.

Kaia and Jack sat cross legged in front of each other, and Jack held his hands perfectly still while Kaia painted his nails. Once xe was done, xe handed the bottle over to Jack and he painted xirs. Xe didn’t manage to hold xir hands as still as Jack had held his, but Jack managed to paint xir nails perfectly anyway. Once he was done he closed the bottle, put it to one side, and snapped his fingers.

“What was that for?” asked Claire.

“Our nails are dry now,” said Jack. “That way we won’t end up smudging them.” He held his hands up in front of his face and smiled. “I really like this!”

Kaia sighed fondly and stood. “Definite abuse of God powers.”

“And I didn’t even have to directly encourage it this time!” Claire said. “He just did it! I’m so proud!”

Kaia returned the nail polish bottle to Patience, who was glad to see that it was undamaged.

The three in the bathroom then only had to wait a little longer before it was time to wash the excess dye out of Claire’s hair. Kaia took charge this time. Xe spent longer washing Claire’s hair than was strictly necessary, but as Claire’s eyes slipped shut as xe ran xir hands through their hair and over their scalp, xe knew that Claire didn’t mind.

And, finally, it was done.

Just like he’d done for his and Kaia’s nails, Jack clicked his fingers and Claire’s hair was suddenly dry.

They stared at themself in the mirror in silence for long enough that Kaia began to wonder if xe needed to start worrying, but xe abandoned that train of thought when xe saw Claire start to smile.

“I love it!” they said. They turned around and pulled Jack and Kaia into a hug. “Thank you for helping me with this.”

“It’s nothing,” said Kaia.

“Thank you for wanting this,” said Jack. “I had fun!”

“Technically you suggested it, Jack.” Claire squeezed them both tighter before letting them go. “And you’re a little genius.”

Kaia didn’t know if xe’d ever seen Jack smile so much in such a short space of time before.

And Kaia knew that xe was biased, and that Claire always looked amazing to xem, but they really did look beautiful with their new purple hair. 

[princessjungeun]

Never Be Yours: Olivia Hye x Reader

haven’t been on in a long time. but uh no this is not a request...just a 2:30 am thought that turned into a scenario. 

your alarm went off at 9:00 pm, pulling you from a deep sleep. you sat up and rubbed your eyes, groaning when you remembered what your alarm was actually for, work.

you and and your best friend decided as a joke to apply to be night bakers at a bakery not too far from both of your houses. at first you two didn’t think you’d get hired, after all you had no baking experience. however, the owner of the bakery was desperate and you two were the only applicants. 

the shift started at 10 pm and ended at 6 am, leaving the rest of the day for you and hyejoo to sleep. originally the two of you planned to just hang around each other’s houses all summer, however this job cancelled those plans very quickly. 

the one perk about the job was that there was no uniform like the day employees had. the two of you could show up in literal pajamas and get away with it, after all the two of you were the only ones there. 

you pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, it was cold and rainy this evening and you weren’t planning on getting sick. as quickly and quietly as you could you got ready, not wanting to disturb your parents and older brother who were winding down for the evening. 

“sweetheart be careful driving okay? have a good shift and i’ll see you in a few hours.” your mom waved you off, handing you your “lunch” and the car keys as you headed out the door. 

hyejoo’s house was only a three minute drive up the street, most nights she’d walk over despite you begging for her to wait for you to come get her. your heart bloomed the second hyejoo walked outside, locking the door to her house before walking to the car. you onced her over as she walked, looking at her phone, completely unaware of your eyes on her. 

her glasses sat on top of her face, slightly sliding down. despite her absolutely hating them, you loved them more than anything. she often asked if she should put in contacts but you told her no, there was no point if it was just the two of you working. she agreed, not realizing it was because you loved the way her glasses perfectly framed her face. you smiled when you saw she was wearing one of your hoodies, it was a size and a half too big on her so it hung lower and covered her hands completely. 

she opened the door and plopped down in the passenger side, “what’s with the smile?” 

you replied, putting the car and reverse and backing out, “just happy to be getting the money. thinking of what i can buy with it.” 

hyejoo responded, “same, i think i wanna save for some clothes and maybe new shoes...my converse are on the verge of calling apart.” 

the drive was silent, she looked at her phone as she slowly dozed in and out of sleep. the combination of the moving car, rain falling outside, and the heat on, made for perfect sleeping conditions. 

when you pulled in front of the bakery you noticed she was completely knocked out. her head resting on the head rest, lips slightly parted and her cheeks a little more swollen than usual. you looked at her in fondness, she was without a doubt one of the most precious people you’ve ever seen. 

you playfully poked her cheek, waking her up as she smacked your finger away from her face. she mumbled grumpily, “hey...” 

she unlocked the door and got the key to open the bakery doors, she slipped in, holding the door for you and then locked it behind her. 

you took off your hoodie and put on your apron, a kuromi one to be exact, hyejoo did the same, slipping her matching my melody apron over her head. your parents gifted you both matching aprons as a gift for getting your first summer jobs. 

while you washed your hands and put on your hair net, hyejoo preheated the ovens, fumbling with the buttons until she hit the right ones. you watched from afar as she moved to the sink, tying her hair into a high ponytail, tucking her baby hairs behind her ears. 

you noticed the small rainbow earring she had, something small she bought herself after coming to terms with her sexuality a while back. when she came out to you, well to be honest you weren’t surprised. it was expected, you could tell from the day you met her that she wasn’t straight. she knew as well but pushed it away for years, but eventually she came to terms with it and dropped subtle hints here and there that she wasn’t straight. 

as your shift began, the two of you baked the normal breads and pastries, trying your best not to burn yourselves...or the goods. hyejoo played music from her phone, one of the many playlists she had made after realizing baking in silence isn’t that motivating. 

you watched her from across the kitchen, the way she hummed and sang softly to herself, clearly in her own world. it was moments like these that you realized how perfect hyejoo was in your eyes. 

everything about your best friend you were in love with, they way she smiled softly when she cracked an egg and didn’t get shell in. the way that her brows furrowed when she tried to remember the difference between the baking soda and baking powder. how she would always look at you with puppy eyes to put things in the oven because she was afraid she’d burn herself. everything about hyejoo was perfect and you were in love with all of her. 

as hyejoo kneaded some bread dough she turned to you and asked, “how long am i supposed to let this rise for?” 

you told her, “an hour....also you have a little something- here let me.” 

you walked over to her and dipped your finger in some flour before tapping her cheeks and nose, “there.” 

she gasped, “hey!” 

you laughed, holding yourself up against the counter as she tried to pull bread dough off of her hands so she could hit you. however before she could, you were already wiping the flour off her face. 

your eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips so quickly she didn’t even catch it. she laughed, “this is like one of those cheesy teen romance movies.”

you agreed, pretending that it was cringy, however deep inside you wished that you could stay this close to her forever. your hand rested on her waist as you wiped off the last of the flour, quickly she slipped from your embrace, “thanks y/n.” 

trying to shake the thoughts from your head you replied, “of course hye.” 

the two of you worked your shift as usual, baking, goofing off, taking a lunch break, and then getting back to work. more times than you can count you were lost in thought about how much you adored her, often asking her to repeat whatever she said because you didn’t catch any of it. 

at the end of your shift you helped hyejoo organize all of the baked goods before heading to the sinks to wash the last of the pans and bowls that were used. your best friend scrubbed a pan next to you, her face blank as she focused on cleaning up. you looked at her, once again reminding yourself how head over heels in love with her you were. 

you both slipped off your aprons off at the end, hyejoo struggling to get hers untied because she tied her knot too tight in the back earlier. she asked, “can you help me?” 

you nodded and stepped behind her, getting the tight knot out of the two ties. before you pulled them completely loose, you hesitated before back hugging her and kissing her temple. it wasn’t unusual for you to give her hugs and kisses, you were a very affectionate person, at least when it came to hyejoo. she was only clingy with you when you weren’t around others. 

most times she would swat your head away, groaning about how gross and sappy you were. however she accepted it, casually grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles. you felt heat flood your ears at her simple action, thankfully you were behind her so she couldn’t notice. 

the two of you hung up your aprons before putting your hoodies back on and grabbing your phones and your keys. hyejoo locked up the bakery doors as you started the car, doing a little job to the car to escape the rain when she was finished. 

you drove home, the sun starting to emerge from the horizon. she asked, “wanna come over to my place now? you’ll end up there later anyways.” 

you nodded, handing her your phone so that she could text your mom while you drove. she pointed out your lockscreen, “ewwww why do you have this picture of me?” 

she groaned at the picture you saved, it was a candid of her eating soup at a restaurant. you loved that picture, it was the one when you truly realized how in love you were with her. you told her, “shush you look cute, just text my mom.” 

she texted your mom then put your phone back, deciding that she wouldn’t fill your camera roll with a bunch of ill angled selfies that only showed her forehead and eyes. 

you pulled into her driveway and she got out, opening her front door and holding it open for you. you followed her inside and kicked your shoes off, trying to be as quiet as you could because her family was sleeping. 

she waited for you to take a shower, getting her bed ready so the two of you could just go to sleep right away. you changed them flopped onto her bed, letting her know the bathroom was finally free. she showered and came back, her hair slightly blow dried but still a little damp. 

hyejoo stood over you as you laid on her bed, “move over more.” 

you scooted slightly, moving your arm indicating that you wanted her to lay between them. she sighed, caving because she was extremely tired and she just wanted sleep. you smiled when she crawled into your arms, loving the feeling of her this close. 

to be honest hyejoo liked being wrapped in your embrace, she found that you feel very comforting. 

you looked at hyejoo sound asleep against you, your heart beating slightly faster than usual because of how close she was to you. her hand slipped between yours making your heart flutter even more. 

of course hyejoo only thought of you as a best friend and nothing more. she’d jokingly talked about how gross it would be if you two dated. you always laughed along and pretended to agree, but deep down you wished she thought of you the way you saw her. 

you glanced at your hands, seeing them interlocked you sighed as you wished they meant something else. it was just another painful reminder that no matter how close you got to hyejoo, or how in love you were with her, she would never be yours.

[mandoalorian]

Hi 👋 hope your staying safe! Can I request something with Santi, please? Could you write something where Santi and reader used to be friends as kids, Santi having looked out for reader when she was picked on or if she fell over at school, but then after he graduated they lost contact until years later reader reaches out to him randomly and they reunite, maybe fall in love??

Sorry if it's strange, I'm going through something similar but I'm trying to get the guts to reach out to the guy, it's nerve wracking!! 😳😨 Maybe reading something will give me a boost 😂

Tinder [Santiago Garcia x F!Reader]

Word count: 1,700

Rating: 18+ I guess? I don’t know. Nothing explicit, it’s just Tinder is an 18+ app.

Warnings: food mention, tinder mention, allusions to sex

Masterlist

Tinder. It was so tedious. An app that had gained it’s reputation for being nothing more than a “hookup app” or even a “sex app”. It was associated with superficiality and laced with sexual innuendos. It was the app that had been accused of igniting modern day hookup culture. It was the app that Santiago Garcia frequented every damn day. The man even paid a premium! It was a quick and easy way for him to meet girls for drinks and a quick fuck. It’s all a man like Santiago had time for. Falling in love wasn’t an option for him. It was something he’d never considered until Games Night last week. 

Once upon a time, Will’s small living room was just filled with him, Santiago, Frankie, Benny and Tom, but the head count had grown extensively over the past few years. Tom had reconciled with Molly, Yovanna and Benny had something going on, and now even Frankie was engaged to the blonde haired, blue eyed girl who sat quietly in the corner sipping tea and doodling in her sketchbook. 

Santiago didn’t mind the girls. In fact, he actually enjoyed their company, but their presence only had him yearn for something more. He’d never been one to think about settling down or starting a family of his own, but he felt an indirect pressure. Maybe trying out one long term relationship wouldn’t be so bad after all? But he was so used to his flings. How was he ever going to grow out of his commitment issues and find someone he could really connect with.

Truthfully, he’d already found her, about fifteen years ago.

You and Santiago Garcia were the best of friends. You used to do everything together; walking home from school hand in hand, singing and dancing when you thought no one was around, playing LEGO and building up jigsaw’s. He was your soulmate, in every sense of the word. But you can’t stay young forever and eventually Santiago left your small neighbourly town to join the military. And you never saw him again.

Which is why it was a surprise when you, half asleep at 2 am, and drooling on your pillow, lazily swiped right on his profile. You weren’t even paying attention. Just another tanned skin man with dark brown hair and chocolate eyes. It was a haze, and your desperation to move on from your ex boyfriend had you yearning to meet someone new. You groaned tiredly, deciding you were never going to find someone as good as your ex, switched your phone off and shoved it under your pillow before finally getting some sleep.

At around 3 am, Santiago still wasn’t asleep, thanks to his roommate Frankie and his fiancée keeping probably the whole apartment complex awake. He pulled out his phone from his nightstand and checked Tinder. That’s when he saw you. Before even checking your name, he could tell it was you by that familiar sparkle in your eyes, and the way your perfect lips curled into a smile. It might have been fifteen years since he’d last seen you, but just looking at your photo made it feel like yesterday. He couldn’t contain his wide grin as he flicked through your photos. You looked just as beautiful as ever, and Santiago recalled the crush he had on you when you were both kids. He wondered how come you hadn't settled down already. He knew you always dreamed of getting married and having kids, with a big house and a big dog. So why were you on Tinder?

In a simple spur of the moment, Santiago swiped right.

‘It’s a match!’ the words blew up on Santiago’s screen and illuminated the dark bedroom. Streamers and confetti exploded around your photo; the typical thing that always happened when he matched with women on Tinder, only now it actually felt like celebrating. This meant that you must’ve swiped right on him too. 

You spent the morning the same way you always did, laying in bed and checking the notifications on your different social media. Just before you were about to get up, you remembered how you’d impulsively installed Tinder the night before and, on a whim, you opened the app to see if you had matched with anyone.

You scrolled through the eight matches you’d gained through the night, frowning and twisting your face in disgust at some of the profiles. You really hadn’t been paying attention to who you were swiping.

Your eyes went comically wide when you read the name at the end of the list.

‘You have matched with: Santiago Garcia! Say hi!’

It was like time had frozen and you read the words over and over again. Santiago Garcia. Santiago Garcia. Santiago Garcia. You wondered how many Santiago Garcia’s lived in New York City - or more specifically, only three miles away?!

You hammered your thumb into your screen to view his profile and you were blown away as you went through his photos. That was definitely him. That was definitely your childhood best friend. Although his hair was once dark and curly, it was now short and slightly salt and peppered. He had a slight graze of facial hair in all of his photos, and in most of them, he was seen to be hanging out with a bunch of other guys. Wait- was that Francisco Morales too? They were still friends?

You were so nervous to say something. Truthfully, if you had come across his profile at any other moment where you weren’t half asleep, and hopelessly desperate for love, your fear would’ve stopped you from swiping right. You’d been in love with Santiago since pre-school. It had been over a decade but you still thought about him every single day and cherished those long lost moments you spent together. 

But the reality was, that he’d swiped right on you too. He was interested in you as well! Which had to count for something. You took a deep breath and typed out the words “Hello :)” before quickly turning your phone off and throwing it across your bedroom. 

You sat bolt upright in your bed for a few moments, contemplating what you had done. You told yourself it would be okay and asked yourself what was the worst that could happen. You sighed and forced yourself out of bed to get ready for the day ahead.

Turning off your phone was a good idea because you’d actually forgotten about messaging Santiago until about lunch time. You flicked through the television channels, holding a lazily put together sandwich in your free hand, and landed on a dating game show. You considered applying, thinking about how fun it might be, when you remembered you might already have a shot with someone else. Santiago. You dropped your sandwich on the coffee table in a frenzy, ran to your bedroom and turned on your phone. The painful minute it took to completely boot up sent butterflies rampant in the pit of your stomach.

Santiago: Hey! How you doing? I gotta say I was really surprised to see that we matched last night. It’s been a long time!

Oh my god. He’d replied. He’d replied three hours ago and you hadn’t said anything back. Shit. You wondered if you had already blown your chances, but little did you know, Santiago had been holding out for a message from you for a long time.

You: Right...almost fifteen years, I think! I’m okay. How are you?

You pressed send and took a deep breath. It was okay. Just casual small talk. It would be okay. You slid your phone into your pocket and went back to eat your sandwich. No matter how hard you tried to focus on the game show, you just couldn’t stop thinking about Santiago.

“Santi! You got a new message!” Frankie called from the other room, taking a huge, messy bite out of a candy bar and picking up his phone.

“Frankie! I’m literally on the toilet… can it wait?” Santiago cried, face palming and chuckling incredulously. Living with his best friend for five long years meant that Santiago had become accustomed to interactions like this.

“No, I don’t think so,” Frankie mumbled, knotting his eyebrows together as he read the notification that had popped up on the screen. “Hey, are you talking to Y/N L/N from high school?”

“Wh- what?” Santiago asked, feeling his cheeks flush.

“Oh my God you are!” Frankie gasped excitedly, typing in his friend’s passcode for his phone and getting inside. “On Tinder!”

Santiago finished up washing his hands and walked out the bathroom, an unamused scowl drawn upon his lips. Frankie swallowed at his best friend’s expression.

“This has to stop,” Santiago warned, taking his phone from Frankie’s hand. “I love you buddy, I really do. But you’re getting married next Summer. You can’t keep trying to talk to me while I’m on the toilet!” 

Frankie laughed and rolled his eyes before getting back to his video game. 

Santiago was shocked to be reminded that you had remembered exactly how long it had been since you last saw each other. He began to compose his next message. You practically screamed when you felt your phone vibrate at the notification.

Santiago: I’m well, thanks for asking. Would you be interested in meeting up sometime for a few drinks? I’d love to catch up.

Drinks. A catch up. It sounded perfect. You already found your mind racing as you wondered what to wear.

You: That sounds great!

Santiago’s reply came fleetingly.

Santiago: Are you free tonight? X

Tonight was so soon… but you were free, and it felt like you’d been waiting forever to reunite with your childhood crush. And he felt the same way. It was so exciting for both of you.

You: Tonight sounds great. See you then :) x 

You and Santiago spent the rest of the day in anticipation to see one another. You didn’t know then, but the accidental Tinder encounter turned out to be the long lasting and perfect relationship both you and Santiago craved. The soulmates were reunited at last.

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[after-avenging-hours]

Out of Time [3]: Steve x Reader

Series Masterlist with dates on chapter releases - tag list will not be used for this series

Summary:  After Steve gets injected with a mysterious substance during a mission gone wrong, you come to find out that the only thing that can save his life is a pure sample of Dr. Erskine’s Super Soldier Serum. Unwilling to let the love of your life die without a fighting chance, you travel through the quantum realm back to 1943. Equipped with little more than your knowledge of past events, you have to figure out just how exactly you’re going to get your hands on that serum. Not only that, but with the infinity stones no longer protecting the reality you’ve come from, there is now a chance that your presence in the past can change the future you’ll return to. Can you succeed without messing things up? And if things go wrong, can you fix it before it’s too late? Or will you run out of time…

Word Count: 6079

Warnings: brief mention of smutty concepts, Steve being a sad puppy, subtle pining

When Steve wakes up in the morning, it’s to a feeling he hasn’t felt in a really long time. Warmth, security, and something a little new to him. He feels the gentle weight of your arm over his waist and the flutter of your breath against his collar bone. He almost doesn’t want to open his eyes for the fear that he’ll wake up from this dream.

He counts to ten before blinking his eyes open and his heart nearly stops at the sight before him. Bathed in the morning sun, your hair frames your face like a glowing halo. You look ethereal and serene, lips parted ever so slightly, your face relaxed. It makes him want to grab his sketchbook if he knew that moving wouldn’t wake you.

He settles for tracing over your features with his gaze. Memorizing every detail, so that he might be able to recreate the image later. He doesn’t know what he did right to have this literal angel fall into his lap. He’d almost been certain that he was going to wake up alone in his bed. That last night had been some sort of fever dream.

Yet, here you are. Asleep in his arms. As real as the air in his lungs.

He really doesn’t want to ruin this moment by waking you, but nature is calling and it would be his damn luck to have an accident in bed while a beautiful woman slept next to him. “Vic,” he whispers, not wanting to startle you. However, he says it a little too soft, and you continue to sleep soundly. Unwinding his arm from around your waist, his fingers curl from the top of your hair and down your temple. “Vic,” he says once again, his voice a little rough from sleep.

You inhale deeply through your nose, your body shifting and rubbing up against his. That makes him go stiff as he becomes acutely aware of the reaction this instills in his own body. “Steve…” his name slips from your parted lips with a pleasured lilt.

His eyes widen and he feels the heat crawling up his neck. “Vic, honey, you gotta wake up,” he urges a little more pressingly. He’s not sure where the term of endearment came from. It just slipped out.

Your eyes flutter and slowly blink open. Your head pulls back, away from his chest, before your eyes lift to his. Your lips split into a smile that rivals the sunlight filtering in through the window. “Morning...” you declare, in a cheerful, yet sleepy voice. Your arm lifts from his waist, so you can rub the tiredness from your eyes and then cover the yawn that escapes. “Oh, you probably need to use the bathroom,” you realize and begin to extract your tangled legs. Even as a Super Soldier, Steve had the tiniest bladder. He always needed to go first thing after waking up.

“Uh… thanks?” He looks a little confused but shuffles out of bed. He gives you one last glance over his shoulders before leaving the room.

You move to sit up, wincing slightly when you feel your stitches tug at your skin. It’s not exactly painful but feels uncomfortable. You’ll get a chance to check on the healing progress later. It might already be time to remove the stitches. Pushing the blankets off your legs, you carefully move to stand, keeping a hand pressed to the covered wound on your front. Once on your feet, you attempt a few simple stretches to test the strength of your torso and the integrity of the wounded area. There’s a very slight soreness, but it’s nearly unnoticeable.

You turn back to the bed and start to pull the sheets back into place. “You don’t have to do that,” Steve voices once again upon entering the room.

You glance up briefly, releasing a huffed laugh. “Force of habit.”

He moves back to his side of the bed, helping you tug the sheets and blankets back into place. You both then grab a pillow each, fluffing them up in the same manner and setting them back at the same time. It’s a morning ritual you’ve grown used to, but Steve gives you a strange look.

“Hey, do you mind if I use your shower?” you ask, both in an attempt to distract him and because you’re sure that your hair has only gotten worse by sleeping in it without washing the hairspray out.

“Oh, sure,” he agrees, stepping back. “And I think I still have one of my Ma’s old dresses that you can wear.” He turns and moves toward his closet, rolling back one of the double doors to reveal an old wooden dresser tucked into the space. He kneels down and opens the bottom drawer, lifting and tucking around a few different items before pulling out a folded cloth in a floral pattern.

He hands the dress to you, which you take graciously. You hold it tight to your chest, the meaning not lost on you at how much he has to trust you to offer his mother’s dress without hesitation. “Thank you, Steve.”

He nods, watching how you clutch the material as if you understand its importance before he meets your gaze. “It takes a while for the water to get hot, and then it doesn’t last very long. Clean towels are in the cupboard to the right of the sink.”

You smile sweetly. “Thanks for the forewarning.”

You step out of the bedroom and head for the living room first to grab the first aid kit, which you left on the couch, before backtracking down the hall into the bathroom. After closing and locking the door, you place the dress gently on the closed toilet seat and begin to unbutton your pajama shirt. It falls unceremoniously off your shoulders and onto the floor.

Stepping toward the sink, you begin to unwrap the bandage from around your waist and carefully peel back the taped gauze pack. You can’t help the chuckle of slight disbelief when you look down at the nearly healed wound. You would never know how Shuri did it, but her gel was an absolute godsend. You’ve used some of it before, but never for something this bad. You’ll have to find a way to thank her once you get back.

You open up your first aid kit and pull out the surgical scissors, cleaning them off with an alcohol wipe, and then start snipping and removing the stitching thread. Getting the stitches on your back wound, while working through the mirror is a bit awkward, but you get it all eventually. You clean the scissors again before putting them back and take out the tube of disinfectant cream. You place that on the counter for later and shed your pajama pants next.

You grab a towel from the cupboard and pull your toiletry bag back out from where you stashed it the night before to grab the items you’ll need for your shower. Stepping into the porcelain tub, you swing the curtain around, the metal rings at the top clinking against the top bar. You spin the nobs to turn on the water and flip the switch to send it from the tub faucet to the showerhead.

The water that comes gushing out is frigid, but you don’t mind too terribly. You’ve had your fair share of cold showers, especially after that time you went on the run with Steve, Sam, and Nat after the Accords broke up the team. You were just happy to have running water against your scalp. It’s also nice to be able to reach up and work the water into your hair without feeling pain from your injury.

By the time you’ve got your shampoo building up a lather on your scalp, the water finally begins to warm. You adjust the knobs as necessary, hoping that by keeping it at a more lukewarm, the heat may last a little longer. This seems to be the right trick because it doesn’t start to cool until you’re just about finished.

Pushing the curtain back, you step onto the thin bath mat. You grab the towel to dry off your body and hair. You know you won’t have access to a blow drier in a man’s apartment, so the towel is the best you’ve got. With the towel wrapped and twisted around the top of your head, you step back up to the sink to apply the disinfectant cream over your wounds, then protect them with a single square, adhesive bandage over each one.

The floral dress is loose enough that you can step into it and pull it up your legs, feeding your arms through the short sleeves, before it settles on your shoulders. A soft lavender scent fills your lungs where it clings to the fabric from its original owner. You smooth your hand down the dress, sending your thoughts to the woman who wore it before you in the hopes that she won’t mind you borrowing it. It always makes you a little sad when you remember that you’ll never have a chance to meet the wonderful woman that raised the man you love. But wearing this dress helps you feel a little more connected, both to her and to Steve.

You pack your toiletries back into the bag and stash it once more before unwinding the towel from your hair and bundling it in your arms along with the borrowed pajamas. You step out of the bathroom and head back for Steve’s room. You find him sitting on the bed, already dressed for the day, and lacing up his boots. He pauses and looks up at your entrance. His lips part in awe, eyes widening.

“Wow…” he mutters quietly enough that you don’t think he noticed the slip.

You feel the heat in your face building. “It’s a beautiful dress,” you tell him sincerely, glancing down the length of the material.

He has to physically shake himself out of his thoughts, mouth closing as he looks away, embarrassed. “She’d be happy to hear that. It was one of her favorites.” He finishes lacing his boots before he stands. “She’d also be happy to see it getting used again.”

He walks over to you, taking the items from your arms and putting them in the hamper basket he has tucked in the corner of the room by the closet.

“Are you going out?” you question, noting his attire.

He nods, turning toward the dresser inside his still-open closet. He opens one of the single top drawers and pulls out a tie. “Yeah, I’m meeting with Bucky.” He turns up the collar of his shirt and hooks the tie around the back of his neck. “I promise I won’t tell him about you,” he quickly puts in, glancing over at you. His body seems to turn of its own accord when you step up to him; his hands falling away when yours take their place on the fabric of the tie.

“I know you won’t.” You assure him, pulling the length of the tie to one side before beginning to wrap the material around itself. “I trust you.”

You finish tying the knot and tighten it neatly to the base of his neck, noting how his Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow. Your gaze flicks up, catching the look on his face. He looks just about ready to jump out of his own skin. Your lips turn up into a smile of amusement, though you just barely manage to contain your laugh.

Steve takes a step back, hand smoothing over the length of his tie as his gaze drops from yours. “Um, thanks,” he mutters quietly.

You know you shouldn’t be teasing him like this, but there’s a part of you that can’t help it. Teasing your Steve normally ended with you getting stripped naked and thrown onto the bed. Or pushed up against the wall. Or bent over the couch… All that positive reinforcement for being naughty made it very difficult for you to behave now. Trying to respect his boundaries, you take your own step back to give him a little more space. “If you’re heading out, do you want me to leave too?” you question.

“You don’t have to,” he shakes his head. “You can stay as long as you need, while you recover. I… I trust you, too.” He doesn’t really know why he would admit that to you after only knowing you for half a day. He wasn’t generally a very trusting person. Being an outcast will do that to you. However, you don’t treat him like an outcast. In fact, you’ve been nothing but kind to him and somehow, he can feel in his heart that he really can trust you. He turns once more to the dresser and digs through the other top drawer. “Here,” he offers, holding out a small object in his hand. When you reach to take it, you realize it’s a key. “You can stay if you want. Or you can leave. You can just tuck it under the doormat if you’re gonna go.” Steve has a strange undertone to his words and he won’t meet your gaze. It’s like he knows that by giving you the option to leave on your own, he’ll surely be coming back to an empty apartment.

“Oh, thanks,” you say, unsure what the proper response is here.

“Well, I’m running late, so…” he leaves the words unfinished as he slides the closet door closed and steps around you.

You turn to watch him leave the room with a frown, unsure how his mood soured so quickly. “Steve,” you call after him, stepping into the living room and stopping his movements at the front door.

He looks back at you, hand on the doorknob. You’re not really sure what to say. Before you can come up with anything, he releases a long sigh, gaze dropping. In the next instant, he swings open the door and steps out.

You bite your lip, your heart feeling heavy in your chest. The Steve you know also had issues with saying goodbye. You always thought that it was from plunging into the ice and waking up in a completely different era. That saying goodbye meant there was an uncertainty of ever seeing each other again, and that made him uncomfortable because he knew all too well what it felt like to have an entire life stripped away. You realize now that the scars run even deeper than that. 

You try to think about what the best way to handle this is. You know that you can’t just disappear on him. Even if it’s what you should do, the thought alone makes your stomach squirm and you know that you can’t do that to him.

You step into the kitchen, finding your shirt washed and dried on the small kitchen table. The two bullet holes have also been mended with some thread. You wonder if he had done that while you were in the shower. Your heart clenches. You know how sweet and thoughtful he can be, but he still manages to find ways to surprise you. Even here. You have an idea beginning to form in your mind of how you can repay him for the kindness he’s shown you.

You know that you at least need to track down and check-in with Dr. Erskine. With the way things were left last night, you wouldn’t be surprised if he waited for your return to the recruitment station and by now, he would be assuming the worst. It wouldn’t benefit you at all to have him running to Colonel Phillips to get an investigation started into your whereabouts, only to discover that your records with the SSR didn’t even exist.

But with a key to Steve’s apartment, nothing was preventing you from coming back… After all, it’s not like you exactly had a place to stay. You’d planned to spend your evenings at a hotel, if necessary, but why waste the money?

With your mind made up, you find a smile slowly beginning to grow on your face. Moving back into the bedroom, you grab the rest of your soiled clothing, so you can have it washed and leave it out to dry while you run your errands. You dump your skirt and panties into the sink, only now remembering that you were currently going commando.

It didn’t really bother you since you’ve done it plenty of times before. It was one of your favorite methods of teasing Steve. Also, it certainly helped with the ease of access to accomplish your end goal. You swear the man had a dick made out of gold, and boy, did he know how to use it. You remember asking him where he learned how to thoroughly fuck a woman’s brains out after your first time together. He had laughed, cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment and he told you that he’d had a good teacher. You assumed he meant Barnes. You never did get a chance to thank the man for his thorough lessons.

With the blood washed out of your skirt and underwear, you set them out to dry and head back for the bedroom. You open the pouch from your thigh holster and use a particle disc to enlarge your miniaturized vintage suitcase. Setting it on the ground in the corner of the room, you pop the latches and crack it open, pulling out a fresh set of undies and new stockings. You put on your undies first before sitting on the edge of the bed to slip the stockings up each leg, the elastic tightening just above your knees, and then slide into your heels. You strap your holster back into place, making sure the pouch is secure, before stepping in front of the floor-length mirror leaning against Steve’s wall to make sure it can’t be seen against the fabric of the dress.

You head for the bathroom next, pulling out the hairpins from your toiletry bag. You don’t go quite as “all-out” as you had yesterday, but you get your hair pinned up enough that it’s passable for this day’s fashion. You apply your makeup next, careful with the heavily pigmented lipstick. Once that’s finished, you’re ready to head out.

Stepping out of the apartment, you lock the door behind you and check to make sure no one is around to watch as you lift your skirt and tuck the key into your pouch for safekeeping. Your heels click down the metal staircase as you descend to the street level. You keep your eyes peeled, making sure the men from yesterday, or others, haven’t shown up in droves looking for you.

The coast seems to be clear and you’re able to make it to the street to hail a taxi without issue. You ride to the World Fair, thinking it might be best to start there, instead of showing up at the lab in civilian clothing, expecting to be let in. You pay the cab fare upon arrival and walk straight to the recruitment station. It’s still fairly early in the morning and most of the Fair attractions are still setting up, so there aren’t as many people around as yesterday.

You wonder briefly if it may even be too early before Dr. Erskine would have shown up, but decide to head in any way. A few doctors and nurses are walking around the facility, getting everything prepared. You walk up to a man sitting behind a desk, who you recognize as the head physician.

“Excuse me,” you call to gain his attention.

He barely even gives you a glance before turning back to the papers he’s working on. “What can I do for you, sweetheart?” he asks distractedly.

You have to bite your tongue to keep in the snide remark. “I’m looking for Dr. Erskine, I was here with him yesterday.”

You hear the sound of a curtain getting pushed open behind you. “Vic!”

Turning around, you find just the man you’re looking for. He gestures for you to meet him in the exam room before he shuts the curtain behind you. “Where have you been?” he asks in a hushed, yet urgent, whisper. “I was beginning to think they had taken you. Or worse!”

“I’m alright. I was able to distract them, but they ended up getting away. I wanted to lay low for the night to make sure they wouldn’t come looking for us.” You decide not to tell him about getting shot for fear that he’ll want to see the wound. He is a doctor, after all.

“This is not good,” he sighs with a shake of his head. “Schmidt is getting too close. We have to stop the project.”

You gape at the words coming out of his mouth and quickly try to rectify the situation. “No!” you insist, reaching out to grip his shoulders. “We can’t give up when we’re this close. I know that we will find the man we need for Project Rebirth soon. If we stop now, then Schmidt will win and we can’t let that happen.”

He gives you a doubtful look. “Is that your faith speaking?”

“Yes,” you tell him frankly.

“Okay,” he concedes. “We will keep going, but we have to be careful to make sure those men don’t find the location of the lab.”

You nod to agree, but then your throat constricts when you realize that they’ll find it anyway. You’d nearly forgotten that Erskine doesn’t get out of this alive. He dies just moments after Steve gets turned into a Super Soldier. Shot to death by a Hydra agent. Could you really let that happen still? Knowing that you can save his life?

But on the other hand, that Hydra Agent is a sure fire way to get that spare sample of the serum. You know that he takes it in his escape from the lab. You also know where he’s planning to go, so you can easily intercept him. If you decide to step in and stop the assassination, the chances of anyone letting you just walk out of that lab yourself with the extra serum were about zero.

You feel the conflict burning inside you and you’re not sure what to do. You attempt to push the thought from your mind, knowing you don’t actually have to make a decision right this moment. “They won’t,” you assure him half-heartedly, the lie tasting sour in your mouth. “For now, you should minimize being seen in public and we should have Colonel Phillips send a few extra MPs to watch over the recruitment center.”

He nods in agreement. “And what about you? Why aren’t you in uniform?” he asks, looking down at the dress you wear.

“I had a bit of a scuffle with those men yesterday. Nothing too serious!” you quickly put in when his brows raise. “But my uniform needed to be cleaned afterward. However, this does also give the advantage of being able to blend in. I can watch around the recruitment center to make sure we haven’t been followed and look for suspicious activity.”

Erskine thinks it over for a moment, “Well, you were the one to notice those men yesterday, so I trust your judgment.”

You spend a few hours with him creating a surveillance plan to monitor the recruitment center that will allow you to watch for any Hydra agents, but also not alarm any of the citizens coming to the Fair. After the extra MPs show up, you take your leave, knowing that they will be able to keep the doctor safe in your absence. From there, you head to a grocery store near Steve’s apartment to grab the items you’ll need for his surprise tonight.

-

When Steve walks up the stairs to his apartment later that evening, he’s got his hands tucked deep in his pants pockets and his head hanging low. He’s come home to an empty apartment nearly every day of his adult life, so he doesn’t understand why it feels so difficult now. He can smell something delicious cooking through one of his neighbor’s open windows and it makes his stomach growl. He gets to his front door and pauses. Though the curtains are shut on his window, he can see light filtering through from inside, and if he strains his ears, he’s pretty sure he can hear the radio playing a soft melody.

With brows furrowed, he slides his key in place and unlocks the door. Stepping into his home, the delicious smell from outside hits him hard and fills his lungs with warmth. He blinks in surprise. “…Vic?” he calls out in question, unsure if this is really happening or not.

“In the kitchen!” your voice calls back and he’s pretty sure his heart flutters in his chest. And not in a bad way.

He shuts the door behind himself and moves toward the kitchen. The sight before him is one he never thought he’d see. A woman waiting for him to come home and cooking in his kitchen. You’re standing at the stove, stirring a large pot. The scent of the food smells familiar to him, but he just can’t place it.

“What are you making?” he asks.

You send a smile his way in greeting, “Potato soup.”

He slips his coat off his shoulders, placing it on the back of one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “That use to be my favorite as a kid.”

“Oh really?” you try to sound surprised.

“Yeah,” he reaches to loosen the tie from his neck. “I’ve tried to make it on my own a few times, but I can’t seem to find the right recipe. It doesn’t quite taste the same as when my Ma made it.”

You hum in understanding. “Well, I can’t claim to be as good of a cook as her, but hopefully this soup will measure up.” It’s at that moment that a timer begins ringing. “Oh, that would be the biscuits. Do you mind?” you ask, indicating to the oven mitt you’ve left on the counter.

He jumps in, slipping the mitt onto his hand and opens the oven with the other. He pulls out a tray of biscuits cooked to a perfect golden brown. He places the tray on the stovetop next to where you’re cooking the soup. He then closes the oven door and turns it off. “Do you need help with anything else?” he offers.

“Just bowls and utensils. The soup is almost done. You came home just in time,” you smile at him over your shoulder.

He kind of likes the way you say home. Maybe a little too much. He turns to pull two mismatched bowls out of the cupboard and some spoons from the drawers. He sets the bowls on the counter next to you and takes the spoons to the small two-seater table. He pulls out some cloth napkins and plates for the biscuits, seeing that you already have a plate of butter set out with a butter knife.

“Where did all this food come from?” Steve asks. He’s pretty sure he didn’t have all the ingredients you’d need to make potato soup, and he knows for certain that he’s been out of butter for at least a week.

“I went to the store,” you comment off-hand.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he tells you once again, feeling like a scratched record.

You only laugh. “I know, Steve. But I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” You grab a hand towel to hold one of the bowls as you ladle the hot soup carefully inside. “Take a seat,” you tell him, setting the bowl on the table in front of him.

He knows it’s rude to sit before the lady, but he finds himself complying with your wishes just the same. You pour soup into your own bowl and set it at the table before grabbing the small plates and placing a warm biscuit onto each. Watching you flit around his kitchen like you’ve been there his whole life makes Steve’s entire body ache in ways he’s not used to.

You set the plates down on either side of the table before taking your seat across from him. “Be careful, it’s still pretty hot,” you warn as you take your napkin and set it neatly on your lap. “How was your day out with Bucky?” you ask, figuring small talk will be a good way to pass some time as the soup cools.

“It was good,” he nods, picking up his spoon to stir at the soup in his bowl. “It was kinda nice just being the two of us. He’s been dragging me on all these double dates recently. It’s driving me a little crazy.”

You laugh sweetly. “You’d think your best friend would know your type by now.”

“My type?” he questions, confused.

“You know… the type of woman you’re attracted to.”

He shakes his head. “I haven’t even had a chance to figure that out.”

Your head tilts as you look at him. “You mean you’ve never been attracted to anyone?”

“Well, I have…” he backtracks. “But that’s not the problem. The problem is that they never feel attracted to me. It doesn’t matter what I wear or how I act, next to Bucky I’m just…”

“Steve,” you say gently, reaching your hand across the table to place it over his.

“It’s not a big deal,” he feigns shrugging it off. “I’ve gotten used to being alone.”

You gently squeeze his hand, your heart bleeding for him. You can’t stand the sight of him looking so despondent. To feel resigned to what he thinks is his fate. “You’re not going to be alone forever. I promise that there is someone out there for you. It might take some time, but I know you’ll find happiness.” You might be saying too much, but you hate seeing the sadness in his eyes. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

He releases a dry laugh, eyes glued to where your hand touches his. “Are you one of those people that thinks there’s someone out there for everyone?”

Your thumb swipes back and forth over his skin. “No, but I know you’re a good person, Steve. And good people deserve to find happiness.” You wait for him to build the courage to meet your eyes once more. “I don’t measure a person’s worth based on what they look like or how many people they’ve been on dates with. Your actions, your heart, and your courage are what truly define you.”

“Did you read that on a Hallmark card?” he asks, shooting you a wry smile.

You laugh, pulling your hand back. “No. But it sounds like it should be on one, doesn’t it?”

“A little bit,” he agrees, his smile becoming a little more genuine.

You’re happy to have lifted his spirits and turn to dig into your meal. You cut open your biscuit and fit a slice of butter into its warm center to allow the butter to melt. You watch from the corner of your eye as Steve takes a spoonful of soup and blows gently to cool it off. You nearly hold your breath in anticipation when he raises the spoon to his mouth and gets his first taste.

“Oh my God!” he exclaims around his full mouth, quickly trying to swallow before he speaks further. “This tastes exactly how I remember it when my Ma made this!” He takes another spoonful, closing his eyes and releasing a happy moan with the burst of savory flavor on his tongue. “This is amazing.”

You can’t help but laugh at the child-like giddiness coming from him. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Where did you learn to make this?” he asks after downing another spoonful.

“I actually went through a whole process of trying several different recipes and ways of making it before coming to this particular one.” Your Steve had once mentioned that potato soup had been one of his favorite meals that his mother made for him growing up. When you asked him why he never made it himself, he’d told you that he had never received the recipe from her and didn’t know how to make it the same way. You’d then turned it into your mission to help him find the perfect recipe. It took trying out different variations every other week, until one day, he’d told you that you’d gotten perfectly. At that point, it became a special occasion meal that the two of you would share together.

You’re barely halfway through your own soup by the time he’s scraping at the bottom of his bowl. “Do you mind if I have more?” he asks eagerly.

You grin so wide that your cheeks almost hurt. “There’s plenty left over. Help yourself.” He gets up so quickly that his chair nearly falls over.

You’re pretty sure there’s a saying out there about how nothing quite brings people together like sharing a meal. That certainly seems to be the case with getting Steve to open up to you. As the two of you eat the soup and biscuits, the conversation seems to flow easier and more natural than before. He tells you all sorts of tales about the shenanigans he and Bucky got into growing up and you tell him a few stories from your own childhood.

The sun has long since set and the moon is high in the sky by the time your conversation lulls. At this point, you’re both up and moving about the kitchen. You’re putting away the left-over soup and biscuits while Steve cleans the dishes in the sink.

“Your wound seems to be doing a lot better already,” Steve observes. “I haven’t seen you wince at all tonight.”

You instinctively place a hand to the front of your torso, just over the simple square bandage that lies beneath. The pain was completely gone at this point; that you’d honestly forgotten about it. “I have pain medication that helps,” you quickly come up with an excuse.

“Do you want help checking it?” he offers.

You shake your head, “No, that’s okay. You helped with the worst of it already.”

Steve nods, drying off his hands and setting the towel on its rack by the sink. He exits the kitchen and heads down the hall for the bedroom. You hear him turn on the light with a click. You’re in the middle of cleaning crumbs off the table when you hear him call out to you. “Hey, is this your suitcase?”

Your entire body freezes and your heart jolts. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath, realizing that you left it out from this morning. “Uh… yes,” you respond, straightening up and heading down the hall to stand in the doorway of his room. You try to come up with an excuse quickly, heart pounding in your chest. “Sorry, I know it’s kind of presumptuous. I’m only supposed to be in town until the end of the week. I’ve been staying at a hotel nearby. I was going to wait for you to get back, to make sure it was okay if I stayed here with you, but you had already offered and if I didn’t check out by the afternoon, then I would have had to pay for another night.” You’re rambling at this point. “If you don’t feel comfortable with that, then I can-”

“Oh, no!” Steve jumps in, cutting you off. “I’m not going to kick you out,” he assures you. “As I said, you can stay as long as you need.” His lips turn up into a hint of a smirk. “Besides, I’m starting to get used to your company.”

You release a breath of relief, your pounding heart starting to slow. You give him a shaky smile. “Thanks, Steve.”

“And at least you won’t have to fit yourself into Bucky’s pajamas for a second night in a row,” he jokes, stepping over to his closet as he loosens and removes his tie.

You scoff out a quiet laugh, moving back to finish cleaning the kitchen. You mentally scold yourself for being so lax. No more slip-ups. You can’t let Steve find out the truth about you. You can’t afford to compromise the mission.

Part 4

[anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya]

Midnight struggles - Vitaliy Yuryevich Kravtsov

Look at that Russian babe. Total sweetheart. 

A/N: I haven’t forgotten I just didn’t have it in me to finish this, but here I am again. @nhlandotherimagines​

“Listen... we have very thin walls and I heard you crying in the shower everyday this week; are you okay?”  - from this list

Word count: 2850

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You would think that after dealing with insomnia for a couple of years, you would get used to it or at least find a way to make it better, but some nights there is nothing you can really do. You just have to try and tire the body even more and hope that the stars have aligned in the meantime and it will help you sleep.

Tonight was precisely one of those nights. I felt it was not going to be fun when I was getting ready for bed, not feeling tired and all. So here I am lying in my bed rethinking all of my life decisions and wondering how hard would I have to hit my head on the wall if I wanted to knock myself out the good old way.

I throw the covers off of me and sit up. The rather chilly air wraps its arms around my figure and I shiver. I reach for my robe and slip it on. I grab a pair of fuzzy socks from a drawer and put them on as well.

I make my way to the kitchen and grab a glass of water. Sipping on my drink I walk over to the windows in the living room of my apartment. The view never ceases to amaze me. It surprises me every single time I take a look. The entirety of New York drowning in the darkness, but lights in the windows and the lamp posts serving as emergency boats. If I can’t look at the stars at least I can look at a different kind of lights.

I keep staring out of the window until a sound from the next apartment reaches my ears. It’s running water, my neighbor’s bathroom is behind the wall of my living room for some reason and lately he has been taking rather late showers. Not that I have been spying on him or anything, but as I said, sometimes I just can’t sleep and when I can’t sleep I look around and listen. However, the water droplets falling is not the only sound I can hear.

Soft sobs accompany it and it makes me sad. What a terrible thing has to happen to someone to make them cry in the middle of the night in their shower? I would prefer some kind of singing much more even if it was worse than mine, which let’s face it, is not really that hard to beat.

I sit in the loveseat and stare at the wall facing me. The wall, which fails to muffle the sobs of the boy next-door. My neighbor, a hot-shot the Ranges drafted two years ago, is sort of a friend of mine. Well, more like an acquaintance.

Well, I know that he is Russian and I know for a fact that my Russian sucks and so do my social skills. Hence why we haven’t spoken much. I mean, we have made some small talk here and there, but I wouldn’t call us the best friends. However, Vitaliy has been crying for the past week or so and I am starting to get worried, but then again I have no clue how I could help him with his struggles.

I keep thinking and coming up with various plans on what I could do to make his day a little better. Maybe it is time to finally turn this relationship into a friendship of some sort. I should at least give it a shot and see how it goes, right?

I don’t remember how, but I fall asleep in the loveseat in a rather awkward position.

***

My neck hurts like hell, the bags under my eyes are bigger than a goaltender’s gear bag and I could count on one hand how many hours I have slept this time. A heavy sigh escapes my lips. I throw some clothes on, brush my hair and cover up the disaster another sleepless night has left on my face. I almost lose an eye applying the mascara, but I make it without becoming a pirate.

I throw my backpack over my shoulder and grab a sandwich while trying to put on some shoes. I lock the door and walk over to the elevator and so does my hot neighbor. Have I mentioned how attractive he is? I haven’t. Well, I am telling you now. He is smoking and extremely cute.

We get in with an exchange of a “good morning”. I watch him from the corner of my eye. He doesn’t look like has some heavy stuff going on at all. If anything out of the two of us I look like the one, who has cried in the shower. Had I not heard him, I would have never guessed it. I couldn’t be imagining it, because it has happened more than once already.

“How’s it going? “ I go for a small talk once again adding a polite, but nevertheless genuine smile.

“I had better days, what about you? “ If it wasn’t for the weight behind his words I would have smiled at the way his accent colored them.

“Yeah, couldn’t be truer.” I smile sadly.

“Is everything alright? “ He asks with curiosity written all over his cute face, tilting his head to side. Shouldn’t I be the one asking that question?

“Yeah, I just- I have had trouble sleeping again. “ I shrug and his face falls.

“Sorry about that. “

“Is alright. I am used to it already. “I don’t like the turn this conversation has taken. Luckily the elevator finally hits the lobby and spares me from continuing. He looks like he wants to add something, but I flee the second the door opens.

“Hope your day gets better, whatever it is that is troubling you. “ I say over my shoulder and disappear in the busy streets.

“You too. “ I barely catch it, but I am glad that I do.

***

During work I made my mind. I need to pay him a visit. I mean, I can’t possibly let him go on like this, I have to at least try. Before I head home I make a quick stop at the groceries and get a bar of dark chocolate.

At home I take a shower and put on some comfy, but also somehow decent clothes. I would make a cake or something, but I can’t bake to save my life and I sure as hell am not going to try and poison my neighbor I am actually trying to help. The chocolate serves as a replacement of some sort so I don’t show up completely empty-handed.

I walk over to the door and with a shaking hand I knock. Well, here goes nothing. Except there comes no response. I frown a little and try to calm my racing heart. I knock again, but nothing happens. I sigh and turn to leave.

“Looking for me? “Behind me stands the man in question.

“Yes, actually. Yeah. “I manage to get out. Wow. Great. Amazing. Put it together girl.

“How can I help you? “ He asks as he steps around me to unlock the door.

“I-“I have actually not thought over what exactly I am going to say so this is a little awkward. Instead of an answer I stare at him. He opens the door and walks inside. Looking at me expectantly he motions with his hand for me to come in and I do.

“Listen...” I start as the door closes behind me. “We have very thin walls and I heard you crying in the shower every day this week.” I fidget with the chocolate in my hands focusing on the chaotic movement of my fingers instead of his face. “Are you okay?”  I look up at him and search his eyes for I don’t even know what.

He studies me for a moment, not saying anything. Clearly, he is caught off guard and I get him.

“Actually I brought you this. “ I hand him the chocolate awkwardly. “I- I know we don’t know each other so well, but I thought it might make you feel better. “ I said. “It is dark chocolate so it shouldn’t be that bad for your diet. “ I try to lessen the tension in the air.

He takes the chocolate hesitantly with a smile tugging at the corner of his pretty lips. “Do you want coffee?” he asks and I nod happily.

***

Sitting on his couch a couple of tens of minutes later with a steaming coffee in hands we talk about anything, but the elephant in the room. However, he is the one to bring it up.

“You know, since you heard me, you obviously weren’t sleeping. Is your trouble sleeping really that bad? “He looks at me, curiosity written all over the pretty face of his.

I rub my sweaty palms over my sweats covered thighs. “Well, it has been bad the past week.” I give him a polite smile, that doesn’t reach my eyes.

“The last week sucks for both of us then. “ He says with a little chuckle.

“Yeah, it has been tough. “ Silence settles between us after my words.

“Things have been really, ugh...“ He trails off, struggling to find the right words. I just listen, patiently waiting for him to finish his sentence and get if off of his chest. “Hard. Lot of stuff goes on now. “He explains and I nod. “I just- There is a lot of ugh- Lot of pressure from everyone.“

Hesitantly I reach out and grab his forearm gently. “That is okay. We all have a lot on our plates sometimes.” I smile and he sighs looking at my hand. “And it is okay to let it out.” I squeeze his hand. “Sometimes guys need to cry.”

“I guess. “

“Listen, next time you feel like that you can come over and we can talk if you want to. I mean, I probably won’t be sleeping anyway. “I laugh and he chuckles. “We don’t have to talk about it, just if you need some company I am right here. Like, literally, I live next door. “Now he is full on laughing and shaking his head. I let go of his hand as my heart hammers in my chest at the sound.

“Thank you. “ He gives me a soft smile, which makes me weak.

***

Lying on my bed with my head hanging off of the edge I stare at the dark wall once again. I am very close to hitting my head on some hard surface if the sleep doesn’t consume me very soon. I sight dramatically and flip over settling on my stomach. Folding my palms under my chin I start counting sheep. Again.

When I get to fifty a knock on the door makes me stop my ridiculous antics. Normally I wouldn’t even hear it but it is so quiet here. The almost deafening silence is nothing I am not used to, though. Furrowing my brows I prop myself on my elbows. I grab my phone in case it is not Vitaliy standing behind the door and without rush move towards the hall. I check the peephole, relief washing over me at the sight of his messy hair. He came.

“Hi. “ I almost whisper moving behind the door so he can come in.

“Hi, you said I could-“He starts, but I interrupt him.

“Yeah, and I meant it. I wasn’t sleeping, don’t worry. “I assure him walking further into the barely lit apartment after locking the door. I turn on the lights in the kitchen and set my phone on the counter. He follows me quietly, his feet padding softly on the wooden floor.

“You want some water or something else to drink? “ I question him, reaching for a glass already.

“Water is fine, thanks. “ He says quietly. His voice is near the breaking point and I don’t like that. He stands on the other side of the counter as his hands find purchase on the marble surface.

“Do you want to talk about it? “ Placing the glass in front of him I try to catch his gaze. I fail and frown.

“Not really. “ He shakes his head. Looking at the liquid he toys with the glass. “How was your day? “ He looks up and takes a sip.

I chuckle. “Well, it was stressful.” I say leaning on my elbows. “A colleague is going through a break up and it seems like he has forgotten that he in fact is at work and he keeps ranting about how he misses her and how she was perfect and if he really deserves it all.” I explain waving my hands around. “But today I really got fed up with his antics and asked if I really deserve listening to his shit.” That sentence earns me a chuckle slipping past his pink lips.

“No, I was like. Seriously man? Do you know how many hours did I sleep last night? And he goes no.” I do my best to imitate my colleague’s mumbling and get yet another laugh in return. “So I told him. I slept 4 hours Johnny. Four. Did you know that four hours is way too little to sleep and way too much to talk about your ex?” I can’t help, but laugh at it again.

Vitaliy bursts into a heartfelt laugh throwing his head back in the process. I smile in victory, a happy gleam appearing in my tired eyes.

“I get that he is heartbroken and all that, but man it really wasn’t the day to let him cry over her again.” I shake my head chuckling slightly. As our laughter slowly dies so does his smile and a frown appears on his features.

I walk around the counter and take his hand. “Come.” I tug him towards the floor to ceiling windows. “Look.” I say and push him in front of me. The view of midnight New York unravels right in front of his very blue eyes. As he takes it in his lips part slightly and breath gets caught in his lungs. I watch him with a smile. He looks so astonished, like he hasn’t ever seen it before. “For someone who lives in New York you seem kinda surprised.” I joke, my eyes never leaving him.

“I don’t stare the window usually.” He says barely breathing. He is so cute. Like a child seeing the world for the first time. I keep getting lost in the way he looks and in my thoughts until he speaks again. “I am not child.” He is looking at me directly now and my brain short-circuits.

“What?” I ask genuinely confused.

“You said I was like child.” The lights flash in his irises as he takes a step forward.

“Did I?” My heartrate picks up and I find it harder to breath with every second passing.

“Yes.” After a short while he says. “You said I was cute so it okay.” He chuckles. “You are cuter, though.” He flashes me one of those toothy grins of his.

The way his lips curl up in a smile, the way his laugh makes my head spin, the way he is looking at me. The way his accent makes his words sound somehow more poetic or more sincere. How can I like so much someone I don’t really know? It is all too much. He is too much. Too perfect.

“I like you.” I blurt out before I can really think about it. My eyes go wide and I think I have just lost my pulse. He merely grins and comes even closer. His hands reach for mine, the touch electrifying. His thumbs rub gentle circles on the back of my hands.

“I like you too.” He says quietly looking in my very eyes. “For some time actually.” He chuckles.

“Re-really?” Is all I can come up with and manage to say. I am actually pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t complete gibberish, considering the state of my mind right now. I am so out of it I am not even embarrassed for my awkwardness.

He nods smiling. One of his hands rests on my cheek, the fingers of the other one intertwining with mine. He leans in, his thumb brushing my cheek softly. The hot air he exhales gently strokes my reddening cheeks and his messy curls tickle the skin of my forehead. At the mere thought of a kiss my eyes flutter shut.

Just a few seconds later I get to feel the soft touch of his lips on mine. With my free hand I reach for his forearm and my small fingers wrap around his wrist delicately. He takes it as a good sign stepping even closer as our chests collide. His hand squeezes mine as he pulls away slowly. Savouring the moment as long as he can he pulls my bottom lip in the process.

“Good thing I couldn’t sleep.” I whisper with a smile.

“Good thing I cried.”

[atsukashii]

❝safe and sound❞ // k. bakugou

SYNOPSIS: ➛ you had originally thought you were a fearless hero to be, but the moment you watched Katsuki get taken by the league of villains, you knew you had one fear, being without him.

» CHARACTER PAIRING: katsuki bakugou x todorok!reader (shouto’s sister)

» WORD COUNT: 2.4K

» GENRE: request from @todorokikouinferno​ (sorry it took so long!)

» WARNINGS: mentions of kidnapping, stubborn reader meets stubborn boyfriend, fluff

« masterlist || ao3 »

Too much of the world, the name Y/n Todoroki didn’t mean much, but in Japan, many people knew of the family that you came from, and the burden you bear as a child of the current number one pro hero, especially as an upcoming hero yourself. From the moment you were born, you were overlooked because of your quirk. It wasn’t enough for your father, the famous Endeavor, number two pro hero in the country at the time. Yet the moment that your younger brother’s quirk emerged for the first time, less than a year after you, you saw the pride in your father’s eyes and could see what was to happen before it did. 

You loved your family fiercely, but you were exceptionally close with Shouto. Less than a year younger than you, the two of you acted as if you were twins your whole lives. You were two sides of the same coin; one side firefly and explosive and the other calm and cool. And for Shouto, you would do anything, including getting your father’s attention off him by training under your old man yourself. You went from a nobody to becoming a hope to many of the future, your fire quirk all but mastered, allowing you to manipulate flames ranging from a roaring orange blaze to a white melting light so bright it hurt to look at. So when you decided to apply for U.A with your brother in his year, having been held back a grade due to being home-schooled to train with your father, it was no surprise that both of you were granted admission by reference to the prestigious school.

It also was no surprise that on your first day of class, you butted heads with the most explosive person in their class. Your fiery red hair matched your father’s temper, something Shouto didn’t seem to have with his calm demeanour. However, you refused to back down from the opportunity to hand Katsuki Bakugou his ass in your first sparring session.  From that moment onwards, there was a form of respect between you two as he got up to his feet and growled under his breath. 

“Not damn bad Todoroki.” 

To say it had shocked you was an understatement, as Bakugou had been nothing but rude to literally everyone so far in his high school career. However, that respect soon became mutual and kept evolving into something more as time passed. You’d become friends of a sort at first, your relationship built on respect, admiration and an unhealthy amount of competitiveness from both sides, but it was your tomboyish nature that seemed to get the mighty Katsuki Bakugou to slowly and begrudgingly lower his walls until you could finally tell the difference between a curse of anger, and one with no bite. Somewhere along the few months of your first year, you had become close friends, training together outside of class time and trying to help your other friends study when they fell behind. 

Normally, you would bark right back at Katsuki whenever he decided to boom at Kaminari or Kirishima over their studying habits - or rather lack thereof. But now, as your lungs heave in the crisp air of the night and your bare knees dig into the loose first beneath you, you would do anything just to hear him snap at you once again.

You feel your lungs expand and collapse again with each rattling breath as your brain tries to contemplate what just happened in front of your eyes. You had been with Ochako and Tsuyu when you’d first noticed the Leave of Villains presence, and somehow, you had all ended up together, in the field, watching as Katsuki got pulled into the warp gate, away from you and your friends, and right into the hands of some of the most lethal people in the country. 

No, no no no please no. You hunch over and feel a scream threaten to break from your mouth only for someone else’s own yell to erupt instead. You don’t have to look up to know that its Midoriya, and your eyes glisten as you look at your dirt-caked hands. What could you have done better? Why couldn’t you save him? Why had you hesitated against those blue flames that were so much like yours? 

“Y/n!” You hear your brother’s concerned voice fill your ears and you see his knees drop in front of you. Dragging your face to meet his gaze, your brother gives you a determined look that has confidence flooding your veins.  “It’s going to be alright.” God he is such a hero, always was as a child and always will be. You don’t hold in the tears as they roll down your cheeks. Bakugou was gone… And you didn’t know when he was coming back.

“If you’re going to fucking nap whilst we study, just go to your damn room so you don’t drool on my notes.” There's a tug on a strand of your hair and your head snaps up from its resting place upon your crossed forearms towards the voice. Red crimson eyes meet yours and a scoff slips from the ash-blondes lips as he looks over your face. 

“I don’t drool.”

“Yes you fucking do.” Katsuki glares at you, but there's no bite to it as he looks back down at his textbook and continues to copy notes. 

“How long did I sleep for?”

“Almost an hour. Too damn long though if you ask me. If you were too tired to study, you could have fucking told me so dumbass.” You reach your arms above your head and groan as the muscles stretch, immediately becoming less stiff and sore. 

“I’m not too tired to study, I just need coffee is all.” You reply, going back to your laptop and try to continue working on your assignment due in a few weeks. Being close friends with Bakugou had its perks, which included becoming great at organizing your school work and not procrastinating as much. 

“You seem a lot more tired recently.” Katsuki’s words shock you and you look over the screen of your laptop to him with raised eyebrows. It’s at your look that you watch his walls go back up and he jumps on the defensive. 

“I didn’t know you cared so much Katsu!” you tease.

“Shut up dumbass, you’re lucky your already my fucking girlfriend or else I wouldn’t date you.” he growls, but you see the slight twitch at his lips at the empty threat. But that somewhat smile drops as he speaks again. “You’ve been training more with Endeavor right?” He tries again, and you immediately lean back, allowing the incoming train wreck of a conversation to happen right before your eyes. 

“Yes.”

“Yes? That's all I fucking get?” There's a bite to his words now, and Katsuki looks genuinely pissed off, and you find yourself getting mad the more his temper rises. 

“What do you want me to say? I train with my dad a few times a week to help strengthen my quirk.” You say shrugging. “I want to be number one Katsuki, and I have the weapons in my arsenal, so why wouldn’t I use them?”

“Because they’re affecting your school work. Fucking damn it Y/n I saw you fall asleep in our calculus class today.” Katsuki growls and you know that he’s right, but you won’t ever admit it. Straightening your spine, you raise your chin and glare right back into his vermillion gaze. 

“That's because maths is boring.” You try to defend, but you know it doesn’t look good. It’s true that training with your father had been kicking your ass recently, where you found yourself making mistakes you hadn’t made since you were a kid. You had damned burnt yourself only yesterday on your shoulder because you had been distracted. But you couldn’t help it, for some reason your sleep had been plagued with a horrifyingly vivid replay of the day you weren’t strong enough to save the boy in front of you, and every night it ended differently. In some, you saw them take him, and in others, you watched those cobalt blue flames erupt over his body, and you heard his screams and watched helplessly from where you stood, physically unable to move. 

“I want to cuddle.” Your sudden change of direction makes Katsuki gape at you as if you had sprouted a second head, and you can’t help but smile.

“What happened to I’m not fucking tired?” He asks as you get up from your seat and drag yourself over to his bed. 

“I lied.” you shrug, immediately burrowing yourself under his sheets, and breathing in his scent. He’s here, its okay… you close your eyes and just breathe for a while, letting the familiar smell wash over you and calm your mind. 

There’s a groan and you can’t help but smile as Katsuki gets into the bed next to you, pulling you into his arms with a curse. 

“For five fucking minutes. Then I need to keep studying.”

“Okay,” you agree, rolling over to face him. Gently resting your head on his chest, his steady heartbeat fills your ears and you breathe out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding. 

“Is your insomnia back?” He asks out of the blue, and you hold yourself from flinching at the word. 

It had been almost a year from when Katsuki had been kidnapped by the league of villains, and you had thought you were getting better - but you have regressed significantly. The insomnia you created due to being scared of the nightmares in your first year returned with a vengeance until you were reliving that night every time you close your eyes. 

You have never mentioned to him just what caused your insomnia, and you didn’t really want to, purely afraid of seeming weak in front of your boyfriend. 

“Yeah,” is all you get out before nerves stop you from saying the rest. 

“When did it start?” he asks, but the calm tone of his voice alerts you to the fact that somehow, your hot but too intelligent boyfriend already figured it out and just wants you to confirm it. 

“Kamino.” The room is completely silent and for a moment, you’re not sure if either of you are even moving. But then, there's a familiar tug at your hair and you close your eyes as Katsuki begins to gently play with your red hair. “I know none of it's my fault, that I can't put it on my shoulders, that I wasn’t strong enough to help you, but sometimes… I don’t know.” It gets to me. It scares me more than anything else. Is what you want to say, but can’t bring yourself to. But Katsuki is very aware of those around him, and already knows what you’re trying to say, and gently releases your hair and softly tips your chin to face him. 

“It wasn’t your fault, and it wasn’t mine either. What happened is in the past, and nothing is going to separate us like that again, got it dumbass?” He says with such conviction that tears crease in the corners of your eyes. 

“I love you,” you blurt out, not caring that you said it for the first time here and now, or that you were the first person to even say it, for the words just felt right. Right now, and in this moment where you bare your heart to him. Katsuki is grinning feral down at you and immediately smashes your mouth to his, ignoring your shocked squeak that lasts but a second before you get dragged under a haze that seems to make you lose the capacity to think when you’re around Katsuki. And kissing him? Well you basically only have one brain cell during those moments, and the only thing it cares about is Katsuki Bakugou, and how soft his lips are. Katsuki weaves his fingers into your hair and you let out a shaky breath as he pulls away from the kiss. Although he’s close, he’s looking you in the eyes with so much happiness you find yourself grinning back at him. 

“I love you too even though you piss me the fuck off.” Rolling your eyes at the blatant disrespect you push away from your boyfriend and roll to the other side of the bed. 

“I take it back, I don’t love you. I despise you - Katsuki!” you squeal as he yanks you mid sentence back to him and rolls over so you’re pinned beneath him. 

“The blatant disrespect from you that I put up with makes me a fucking saint.” He smirks and you burst into laughter as he places a single kiss on his cheek.

“You want to talk about disrespect? I could be here all day with a list from here to the fucking Tokyo Tower with all the crap you’ve said hotshot!” You grin back, and your smile has Bakugou leaning down and pressing another gentle kiss to your lips. Your heart soars inside your chest at the contact, and the dark cloud that had been hovering around you today seems to dissipate as you meet his eyes. 

“I’m never fucking leaving you alone, got that through your stubborn skull y/n? Not even your shitty brother will deter me from it, even though icy hot annoys me more than you when your hangry.” You chose to ignore the dig at your brother because you’ve come to learn to pick your fights with Katsuki as your boyfriend, but now, in his arms as he rolls and pulls you into his chest once more, you’re more than content to just stay here forever. As his heartbeat fills your ears and you feel your eyes grow heavier and heavier, for the first time all week, you’re not afraid to fall asleep.

Because even though your nightmares are frightening, your boyfriend is way scarier and he would always be by your side. 

REQUEST: ➛ Hi newcomer here saw requests open and jumped at the chance ☁️ Bakugou x Todo reader shes Shotos sister shes in 1A (she's not his twin but older) she has a fire quirk, she's determined and actually willingly trained with Endeavor, tomboy, competing for #1 spot, she has short red hair which she likes Katsu to play with, her and Katsu are competitive but also loving with each other, the kidnapping made her anxious (she won't admit it) and she forces him to cuddle with her in either of their dorms?

©️ 2021 all rights reserved to atsukashii, do not change, edit, translate, or repost any works on any platform.

[hargrove-mayfields]

I haven’t been able to write a whole lot recently so to make up for the little drought here’s a few kegboys hcs!

-Tommy has a big thing for 70s country music, it’s like, all he’ll listen to. Steve’s kind of overexposed to country having grown up in IN so he’s pretty neutral on it even though he prefers pop, but Billy, resident metal head and city boy through and through, tries to poke fun at him for it because like, country music is for uncool hicks, right? But, and this is very much to his dismay, Billy cannot get enough of Dolly. Like he really couldn’t care less about Toms other picks but he is beyond hooked on Dolly to the point that he’s the one buying all her new records when they come out.

-Tommy is absolutely the house husband because the other two are honest to god domestically useless. Billy tries really, really hard to help because Steve goes to work and he feels like he’s lazy for not being able to do much while he’s recovering, so Tommy sticks him with the little jobs because he knows he’s never going to get him to agree to actually resting. It’ll just be little tasks, things like cleaning the lint trap when Tom switches the laundry, but it’s enough to make him feel less useless.

-But! As good as he is at keeping up with the bills and doing chores, Tommy CANNOT cook. Steve will never ever forget the time he came over to his house and caught popcorn on fire in his microwave or when Billy had to swoop in and unplug the toaster like seconds before Tee electrocuted himself trying to use a fork to fish out a piece poptart that broke off in there, so he is very much not allowed anywhere near a stove. Billy is the best cook and even then he’s a little iffy because Neil never let him do it, so to compensate for how collectively awful they are in the kitchen they have like a thousand scribbled in cookbooks in every drawer and pantry.

-They all three have very different sleeping habits. Billy’s the early bird, always gets up at the same time as the sun well-rested no matter what time they went to bed. Steve is a deep sleeper through and through, he’ll pass out at like, 11:00 every night and won’t move again until morning. If nobody were to wake him up he could probably sleep all through an entire day. Tommy’s something of a rough sleeper though, can’t usually get to sleep until at least two in the morning, usually later than that even, and once he gets to sleep it’s very light and he tends to wake up every hour, on the hour. One time when Steve’s at the pharmacy picking up Billy's meds he grabs a little thing of melatonin for Tom because like, it says it boosts sleep and anything’s worth a shot if it means Tommy won’t be so exhausted and sick and frustrated all the time, and it does help! He sort of ends up on about the same sleep schedule as Billy once his rhythm gets a little more regulated.

-When they first started dating, Billy thought Steve was bad when it came to clothes stealing, he lost a few jackets and old t-shirts that way, but when they all three move in together he discovers that Tommy is the true culprit. Neither he nor Steve can keep track of literally any single piece of clothing. Everything, from their hoodies to their jeans to their pjs to their socks, all belong in some part to Tom until eventually they just have one community wardrobe they pick and choose from instead of like, individual clothes.

-They all three overuse the heck out of pet names like baby and babe, which results in Steve calling Tommy babe one and Billy babe two because he was tired of saying like “hey babe” and getting two simultaneous answers.

-Tommy does Billy’s hair for him when he still can’t do too much with his hands, and after that too when it’s convenient because it becomes routine, combing out his curls and putting mousse in it when he wants it done nice, because he wants to be a hairdresser anyways! He’d practiced plenty on Steve ever since they were in middle school, given him tons of hair cuts and even his highlights! It’s for that reason that when Tommy starts doing Billy’s hair, Steve gets the teensiest bit jealous because that used to be him. So everytime they go anywhere and they aren’t crunched for time he has to do both Billy and Steve’s hair and he starts not having time to straighten his own! But! That’s okay because his boys are very fond of his natural curls!

-Steve runs very, very cold always. He’s a type one diabetic so he’s pretty much always anemic and he freezes like 24/7. Even in the summer when Billy and Tommy are like melting into the furniture, he can get away with long sleeves and be just fine. When they’re in bed they keep Steve in the middle because they both run super warm like a heat register and it’d get too hot without having Steve as their ice pack between them.

-More about Steve’s diabetes bc it’s like one of my fav hcs and I wish I could write about it more! It’s really hard to find things for him to eat because he’s gotta worry about his sugar, but also because he has so many food allergies and sensitivities on top of that. Before he had anyone around he just kind of didn’t care about watching himself like, if he wanted to eat something, he would just do it, but he ultimately faced the consequences of that a few times too many, aka being hospitalized twice with DKA and three times with anaphylactic shock. he gets banned from grocery shopping on his own, because he will absolutely buy so much stuff he isn’t supposed to have and ‘lose’ the receipt and just hide the stuff because his boys will not let him eat whatever he wants anymore. Billy is also not allowed to go shopping because he never remembers what brands they use or reads any labels, he just grabs the first of everything he sees and calls it a day. Tommy officially gave up on them and started doing it himself after confiscating a half empty bag of gummy bears off of Steve and having to use the wrong toothpaste for months because Billy refused to pay attention.

-Tommy attracts strays! Cats, dogs, an actual escaped budgie from the neighbors house once, it doesn’t matter, somehow they always find him. If he’s out on the porch there’s like, a ninety percent chance there’s a critter that doesn’t belong to them in his lap. He lets Billy name them all even though they can’t keep them. Tommy personally can’t pick a favorite out of the 20 some odd cats that come and go because they’re all his babies, but Billy and Steve have theirs. B’s favorite is a black and white little fella named Mr. Shrimp and Steve’s is a sweet tabby girl named Meowzers! The rule doesn't only apply to domesticated animals either, raccoons and wild bunnies also tend to lurk around their porch. Billy picks up a raccoon once (he named her Poubelle, but calls her Bella) and Steve yelled at him for hours about how dangerous and irresponsible and gross it was. Him and Tommy get boyfriend grounded for like, weeks after that.

-Steve is like everyone’s Midwestern grandma! He keeps pockets full of butterscotch candies and tissues, he’s got a collection of blow molds and Tiffany lamps, he wears sweatshirts and jackets with weird quotes on them and like, he believes the cure to every ailment is tomato soup, vicks, a wash rag, and a kiss or any combination thereof. It drives Billy completely up the wall, because he’ll cough like once and Steve is like do you need soup? do you need a doctor? please let me help you. But Tommy likes it, being fussed over, cause he grew up with younger siblings and two working parents, so he was always the one doing the fussing.

[crystalsmentalhealth]

Talking about the Brattleboro Retreat in Brattleboro, Vermont

I recently spent two weeks at the Retreat and wanted to share my experiences both good and bad about it. 

I arrived at the Retreat in mid-June of 2021 after a four day stay at the Emergency Department of my local hospital. Originally I had not wanted to go to the Brattleboro Retreat because it was such a big campus and I equated that with busy and loud and impersonal. The Retreat would challenge my assumptions.

Getting There

I didn’t drive myself. As I said I spent four days in the ED of my local hospital and so I arrived via ambulance. The ride was stressful and nauseating. I was already stressed and nervous and the mountainous winding roads did absolutely nothing to help. I didn’t lay in the stretcher, but sat in a back-facing seat with no arm rests and with a blood pressure cuff around my left arm. 

The trip took about an hour and except for a few questions from the person riding in the back with me, it was spent in nearly complete silence, which again, did nothing to help my nerves. There was no reassurance or even light conversation.

My Arrival

When we got there, they grabbed my bags for me, probably because I wasn’t allowed to have them yet, and with one person before me and one person behind me, lead me up the stairs to the admissions office. We were met at the door by an admissions person and I was dropped off like an Amazon package. The ambulance personnel left and I was officially at the Retreat.

I was first led to Security. They dropped off my bags with Security, and asked me to empty my pockets. I had none and told them such. Then I was led to an exam room where the woman who was with me found a gown that would fit me and held it up in front of her. I was then told to strip completely. I balked, but obeyed. First went my shirt, then my bra, then I stepped into the gown. Then with that covering me, I wiggled out of my pants and underwear. She gave me a pair of hospital pants to put on so I wasn’t completely bare. Then I was shown a chair and given a pair of huge grippy socks to wear. One size fits all, I guess.

After that the lady took my blood pressure, my pulse, and checked my oxygen levels. Then she took my temperature.  My clothes and shoes were sent to Security with the rest of my things. I had off-brand crocs as shoes so I had no idea what they needed to check for, but off they went.

After the clothing change I was led to an office. I felt so awkward standing in a grey hospital gown, blue hospital pants, no panties, and those huge grippy socks, in front of two nicely dressed office personnel. They let me have a seat and the questions and paperwork began.

What was my insurance? Did I know about the extra inpatient days allowed? Who was my primary care physician? My therapist? My psychiatrist? My case worker? Did I have an Advanced Directive? What are the addresses? Did I want a male or female provider? There were so many questions! 

Then it was sign here, and here, and here, and here, and here.

After that I was given a green folder that said Welcome to Tyler 2 which contained various information that I would need during my time there. My patient Bill of Rights, how to file a complaint or grievance. That sort of stuff. 

Then it was off to another area and now they wanted a urine sample. I had already done two at the hospital and really didn’t need to pee, but I tried. I assume it was for a drug test, but I have no real clue.

Then I was sent off to another exam room, this time for a full physical. She asked me all about my medical history, whether I was having normal bowel movements or not, all about my diabetes, my family history (cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer, heart disease, cancer, kidney failure, cancer), she even checked my reflexes. The ARNP that examined me had the neatest notebook. It was electronic and I was fascinated by it. 

(At the time of writing this I’ve only been home for two full days and I still have a very clingy cat who is currently laying on my left hand so if you catch a typo that kitty has caused me, please let me know.)

After the physical I was given one outfit to wear back, sans bra because my bra was underwire, and I was sent to a seat to wait to be sent to the unit.

The lady who watched over me offered me something to drink while I waited and when she offered milk I took her up on it. Unfortunately it was 1% milk, which I really hate, but hey, milk, so I drank it while I waited.

I didn’t have to wait long. Before long a Security guard and a nurse from the unit I would go to came down and led me down one corridor, in one elevator, through a cafeteria, up another elevator, and finally I was on the unit.

Tyler 2 

The first thing I noticed when I got on the unit was that the bedrooms were singles. Yes! I hate sharing my bedroom in hospitals. At the worst, I’d once had to share with three other people stuffed into a two person bedroom. Two poor souls had had to sleep on cots. So I was very happy to see that I would have my own room.

I was shown into an interview room for yet even more paperwork and questions. All this is the business of the psychiatric hospital and it comes at the literal worst time of your stay, the beginning. When you’re scared and your nerves are raw, and your mental health is at it’s worst.

A three question questionnaire was first. Why are you here? How can we help? What are your coping skills? Depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation. I don’t know. Reading and journaling.

Then there was a check list of things that helped when I was feeling bad. I was fascinated to see that laying down in my room was one of the options. Most hospitals I had been in forbade that, with some going so far as to lock the doors to the bedrooms during the day so people didn’t sleep the day away. It was a pleasant surprise, and I checked that off along with a few others that I felt applied. 

Then, the nurse, and we’ll just call her Rose, asked me if I was hungry and told me that they always had sandwiches on the unit and that the kitchen which held milk, orange juice, flavored water, cold water, hot water, coffee, teas, and various snacks was open 24/7. I declined both sandwich and snack.

Finally, I was left alone for a couple of minutes and I had a moment to just breathe. It was a Thursday according to the giant whiteboard that had the day’s schedule on it. Most of the groups were over with.

A little bit later a bag was brought up with my clothes and another with the few things I was allowed to have: my Bible; two coloring books; two books (A Street Cat Named Bob and A Wrinkle in Time); my toothbrush, my hair brush, and my composition notebook; were given to me. The clothes I wasn’t given yet. I was told by a nurse that because of COVID they washed everything that came on the unit whether it was clean or not and I would get my clothes once they were dry.

I was then shown my room. Number 219 was to be my home for the foreseeable future. It was a fair sized room, the walls painted hospital blue, the floor had boring brown patterned tiles, There was a plastic chair, a twin size bed with a single pillow, and brown blanket, and bottom sheet. There was no flat sheet. 

There was a set of built in shelves and a small alcove with an unbreakable mirror and large shelf where I put my green folder as well as my other personal belongings that I was permitted to have. I hung around in there for a few minutes before wandering back out and awkwardly looked around.

It was soon 8:30pm and Rose, who was my nurse that night, offered me my bedtime medications. I accepted and went to bed. 

The Schedule

I slept fitfully that night. I was scared, they checked on me every 15 minutes, and it wasn’t quite dark when I went to bed. I woke up obscenely early the next morning, which is very unusual for me, but I attribute it to the uncomfortable mattress, the lack of my comfort item; a stuffed cat named Fat Cat that I sleep with, and the fact that my room had a double window that faced directly East. The sun rises at about 4:45am right now, so it woke me up at around 5:30am that morning.

I wandered out, thinking it was much later than it actually was, since it was fully light out. I sleepily blinked at the analog clock and tried to decipher it. Inwardly I groaned at the time. To kill time, I awkwardly wandered around the unit again, and I think I laid back down for a little while. 

Eventually I left my room again and it was 7:30am. Shift change. I can’t remember who my nurse was that morning, but by 8am it had become quite the busy place with the morning nurses, the mental health workers, the social workers, and the group leaders milling about the nurses station. 

I noticed that the whiteboard had changed with the day, and so I glanced at the Friday schedule.

8am - Breakfast 9am - Community Meeting 10am - OT Movement 11am - Psychotherapy 12pm - Lunch 1pm - Courtyard (yellow level) 2pm - OT Activities 3:30pm Shift Change 4pm - Courtyard (yellow level) 5pm - Supper 6:15pm - Game room/small courtyard (yellow level) 7pm - Wrap Up 8pm - Free Time 9pm - Relaxation 10pm - Phones/computer/TV off

Yes, we had a computer. Some guy we’ll just call J tended to hog it, but so long as it wasn’t group, before morning shift change or after 10pm or 11pm on Friday night and Saturday night, anybody could use it. Of course Facebook and YouTube were blocked, but Vimeo wasn’t. Can somebody please tell me the difference between YouTube and Vimeo? 

I didn’t really go to groups that first day, and I was on Red level, so I wasn’t allowed outside even if I had wanted to. I did however see the Social Worker, a very nice woman we’ll just call M. and my doctor via ZOOM, Dr. L. 

All of the staff was really nice to me, and the unit, which at that point had a census of 19, was actually fairly quiet for the most part.

When 8am hit, and the breakfast trays arrived, I asked where I should go to eat. I was told I could eat on the porch, the day room, or in my room. Eating in peace alone in my room. Yes, please. I took my tray, got a carton of milk, and walked down the hall to my room. 

When I pulled the lid off my plate, I discovered eggs, home fries, and a corn muffin. I also had some fruit. I cautiously tried the potatoes and found them to be quite good, but couldn’t eat anything else so I took my tray back.

I hovered awkwardly around the schedule board until somebody brought me a chair.

Then it happened. My stomach began churning. I went to the nurses station and told one of the three nurses that I had a bit of an upset stomach and could I have something for it? She looked up something and told me I could have some Tums. She sent me to the med window and used some fancy machine to dispense the Tums. I stuck them in my mouth and chewed. I swallowed. It was then that I knew I had made a mistake. I literally felt the Tums hit my stomach, felt my stomach cramp, and then I was vomiting. 

After that experience and the cleaning up thereof, I got my morning meds at around 9am, and soon found myself back in the interview room, this time with a nutritionist. At least I think that was Friday. It could have been Monday. Regardless, I talked to her about being sick (it wasn’t the first time, I had gotten sick back in the ED as well), my lack of appetite, my diabetes, the medication for diabetes I was on (2000mg of Metformin and .5mg of Ozempic). She gave me some information the nutritionist I had talked to from my doctor’s office had already given me, then ordered Glucerna for me three times per day.

Glucerna is the diabetics version of Ensure for those of you who don’t know.

I slept a lot that day, and I’m pretty sure I refused lunch and maybe supper. They checked on me - and everybody else - every 15 minutes, but otherwise didn’t pester me.

The next day, of course, started the weekend. I can’t remember the exact schedule for the weekend, but it was far, far more boring than then weekday. There was just Community Meeting which I wandered into but didn’t participate in, a couple more courtyard opportunities than on the weekdays, more free time, Wrap Up and Relaxation. Relaxation happened at 9pm, but I already considered that bedtime as that was when I got my bedtime medication.

Sunday was just a repeat of Saturday with one bright exception. Sunday Sundaes. At around 2pm we got ice cream with sundae toppings that we could have on it. I don’t think I got it that first Sunday, but I can’t quite remember.

Monday doesn’t bring any particular memories except that that’s when I started attending a group here and there.

Meeting Nathan

Then Tuesday came, and I met Nathan. Nathan was a Psych intern who is now no longer there, so I’m not afraid of using his name. Nathan did 11am Psychotherapy, but had been on vacation the week before as well as Monday. I liked him instantly. He spoke quietly, thoughtfully, gently, and never pressed for answers if the person didn’t want to or couldn’t.

At first, we only spoke in group, but after one group disintegrated into chaos he ended it early and offered to speak to me one-on-one. The one-on-one time I got with Nathan, which eventually became every weekday, became the best, most helpful part of my stay at the Retreat. Some of his questions were hard. They were either highly thought provoking or brought on strong emotions, but he was very skilled in not pushing too hard and always bringing me back to the present if I got too lost in the past. 

I think I opened up more to Nathan in the week and a half that we spoke than I ever did in the two years I’ve seen my normal therapist. 

The Nightmares

I’ve suffered from nightmares for a very long time. In my nightmares I’ve been raped, had my home invaded, seen demons, had my parents stolen away by a dragon (that one happened twice. Same stupid dragon too.), been kidnapped, been chased around Wal-Mart by paramedics with a stretcher, and so on and so forth. The nightmares I suffered at the Retreat were something else entirely.

The dream I remember most, and let me list off some trigger warnings real quick: blood; abortion; abuse; infant death; decomposition; bad parenting; bad medical professionals, was about this young woman who tried to do some sort of home abortion that got botched. She went to the hospital and they sent her strait to surgery where they cut her open with no painkillers or anesthesia. The baby was tiny, but healthy and viable, so they took her out of the young woman’s womb, and haphazardly stapled the woman’s abdomen back together. 

Then the dream began to focus on the baby, but not in linear time, but rather in snapshots. In the first snapshots the baby was fine. Pink, perfect, beautiful little girl dressed in frills. Then the next day’s photographs and the baby’s face was turning black in places. The next; her eyes turned murky and there was more decomposition. Mind you, while she’s decomposing, she’s still alive. Then her little fingers turn black and fall off, and it continues like this until the fifth day when the baby finally dies.

The mother, who was recovering from her own trauma, couldn’t have cared less about her baby.

The nightmare turned weird after that and I don’t remember what happened next, but I continued to have vicious nightmares during my stay there.

Dr. L tried to treat them with Prazosin. but I found that it made my nightmares more vivid. Then she tried to get me in a deeper sleep so the dreams wouldn’t wake me up, but that only got me caught in the nightmares and unable to wake up. 

We never did figure out how to ease the nightmares and keep me asleep at the same time. Right now we’re trying a higher dose of Gabapentin, also known as Neurontin. I guess we’ll see how it works out.

Strange Characters 

There were some...interesting characters at the Retreat. There was one guy who we’ll call J. You may recall him from my complaints about him being a computer hog. He suffered from delusions of grandeur and I believe psychosis. One time I was in the open area near the nurses station he began staring at me suspiciously. Then, after a couple of very awkward moments he asks me, “are you an Imperial or a Rebel?” I told him I had no idea what he was referring to. Miss J who was sitting near by goes, “she’s an imperial, she’s a good girl.” Then J nods and says  “I know she’s my sister in Christ, so she must be good.”

I still have no idea what he meant by Imperial or Rebel. Is it a Star Wars thing? If so I thought the Rebels were the good guys. I’m so confused. 

Miss J was a homeless woman who had been there for nearly nine weeks. She was very nice to me, but she mumbled a lot and I had to keep asking her to repeat herself. 

M was a strange old lady. She would sit at the nurses station and laugh and laugh and laugh as loudly as she could, then all of the sudden she’d be declaring one of the housekeepers an angel on earth and how he should be protected and how everybody else was basically garbage. She eventually got taken out via ambulance.

A was another strange woman. Having been there since May 27th, 2021, she was there involuntary, She talked to herself a lot, drank loads of coffee, walked in and out of groups, and was best buddies with a woman who liked to be called Rabbit, as her real name, the same name as A, triggered her. A and Rabbit were thick as thieves and fed off of each other’s chaos.

Rabbit liked to sing at the top of her lungs when she was happy and when she was angry she would file a grievance, announce loudly that Obama was her father and that you (the nurse she was screaming at) aren’t her boss. She was nice enough to me, but I went out of my way to be as non-intrusive as possible.

Then there was D. D was 30-years-old, claimed to have 12 children. D was volatile, a substance abuser who enjoyed “a drink, some weed, and some coke”. Pretty sure she didn’t mean the soda. D had a shadow who had to write down what she was doing every five minutes. I don’t know exactly why, for the most part, volatile or not, she was pretty chill. She dressed provocatively and the first time she spoke to me it was early morning and we were on the porch.

She asked me why I was there. I told her depression. She asks my why I was depressed. I admitted that there was a lot of trauma in my past. She tells me she’s been (tw:rape) raped all her life, and then proceeded to tell me that I shouldn’t be depressed because I was pretty and thin. Now. I’m smaller than D was, because I’ve never had children, let alone 12 of them, but I’m 5′3″ and 210 pounds; thin is not an adjective I would use to describe me. 

She then proceeds to tell me that I needed a better bra. I was wearing a soft low support sports bra, so yeah, my chest area was very un interesting. I told her I was just wearing something I could sleep comfortably in. She told me to shop at Victoria’s Secret for some better bras and I’d feel great. 

After that, D decides to mention the gray in my hair. She says “you should get extensions to make your hair long and pretty, or better yet, shave your head and wear wigs. It’s what the black girls do.” She then went on about how wigs could really look good and how I’d have so much fun with it that I’d forget all about being depressed and how there were some sites where you could buy some good wigs for really cheap.

As I recall, I was fairly unresponsive during her spiel and walked away as soon as it wasn’t rude to. 

The Really Bad Day

I don’t recall exactly what day it was, time blurs for me on a good day, and I wasn’t having any good days while I was at the Retreat, but one day was really bad.

TW: Suicide TW: Self-Harm

I was really, really suicidal, and I told the nurse I was talking to that. She asked if I had a plan, and for the first time I really did. I told her I would wait until right after a check - remember we got checked on every 15 minutes - then I would take a pair of my pants and wrap them around my neck and strangle myself. 

Then she asked if I intended to follow through with the plan. I wanted to, I really did, but I also didn’t want to cause trouble, and that’s a huge issue with me, so I told her no. And that was the truth. I was suicidal, I did have a plan. I had a detailed plan actually. But I didn’t really intend of following through.

As you might expect, she had to report that to my doctor. Dr. L. spoke to me about how I was feeling and later, about five minutes after I had gotten on the computer to use Duolingo to distract myself, (See, I was using coping skills.), the nurse I had spoken to, and who I liked quite a lot, came to me and said that Dr. L wanted them to temporarily confiscate my clothes and take the sheet and blanket off my bed. It was to be replaced by blankets that couldn’t be ripped. Nurse E told me it wasn’t a punishment, it was a safety precaution, but I was so embarrassed and felt punished. I was allowed to keep the weighted blanket they had let me borrow, and my pillow, but other than that they took every bit of fabric in the room.

I don’t know if it was a good move or not. I just know that I wanted things back to ‘normal’, as though anything in a psych hospital could be normal, but the next day I lied to Dr. Lambert and told her I was feeling better. She said I could have my stuff back, but for some reason when I asked a nurse later on, she told me that there were no orders about it from Dr. L. 

I asked again the next day and was finally able to get my linens and clothes back. I even got an extra pillow, for which I was very grateful for as my original pillow had been quite flat and hard.

The Road to Discharge

I was originally supposed to have been released on June 29th, a Tuesday, but I had to admit to Dr. L that I just didn’t feel like I could be safe at home yet. Not to mention that we were still trying to deal with my nightmares and sleep issues.

Dr. L and M, my social worker began giving me assignments to do. I was to fill out a safety plan, which I did. M had me write a letter to my regular therapist about the changes I needed her to make to improve our sessions. I am terrified to read it to her, but I really need to. I was given a huge stack of DBT (Dialectical Behavioral Therapy) information and worksheets to fill out, Nathan had me write something about a cousin of mine who had passed away due to an overdose of Fentanyl, and so I wrote her a letter telling her how much I missed her, how I was angry she was gone, disappointed that she couldn’t tell me she was back on drugs, how I was angry at her mom for getting her hooked on drugs in the first place, and ways I could have helped if she had just let me.

Meanwhile, people found out that I could make things out of the Model Magic that they had in the Contraband/Sensory room. I made I can’t even remember how many cats for people. I also made roses, and one dragon. 

I was also writing dark poetry, just trying to purge my dark thoughts and get them out on paper.

Nathan continued to have one-on-one therapy with me each weekday, even if he only had half an hour.

I was meeting with my social worker daily, which they normally didn’t do, but when she realized that I wouldn’t go to them if I needed something, she decided to head it off, and meet with me, even if it were only a couple of minutes, each week day.

Finally, we decided on a day. Friday, July 2, 2021. I was so nervous, but so excited to come home and see my furbaby, Loki. 

When the day came, I dressed in the nicest clothes that I had brought, which was a pair of elastic waist jeggings and my pink Cat Mom t-shirt which everybody loved. I only went to one group that day, and that was Psychotherapy, and I had my meeting with Nathan. I had one last meeting with Dr. L. and my social worker. My nurse that evening gave me my treatment plan which had my diagnoses. (Major depressive disorder, severe; Borderline Personality Disorder; and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)

Just as supper arrived I got the word that my ride was there. 

Final Thoughts

Being at the Brattleboro Retreat was a difficult experience, but it was also a positive experience. In the beginning I was mad I wasn’t at the place where I had wanted to go, which was the Windham Center, but by the end of my first week there, I had decided to make the best of where I was. I didn’t like all the nurses, I definitely had my favorites and those I dreaded, not that they were ever mean to me, but I’m not sure, there’s just people you don’t like, you know? 

I was on a great schedule while I was there. I was up no later than 8am and went to bed around 9pm, I ate at specific times. I got my medicine at specific times, and that routine was very comforting. Did I keep to it when I got home? 

No. It’s currently 12:26 in the morning and I’m working on this still. 

I’m still drinking my Glucerna, no matter that it costs me $40 a week for three a day, but I just don’t want to eat. Oh, I nibble. I’ve eaten some chocolate graham crackers and sipped on a 20oz Vanilla Coca Cola over the last four days. I just don’t eat. 

I learned, while I was there, that it’s okay to speak up, to take up space, to have a voice, even if it’s quiet, I learned that it’s okay to get angry or ask for help. I can ask people for what I need. I don’t know how well I’ll be able to apply what I learned, but that’s always the hardest part of learning any new skill. 

I know that this has been a huge amount of reading, but I wanted to give you a detailed example of what a psychiatric hospital is like. I hope that it informs you and I hope that if you’re heading to a psychiatric hospital or treatment center that maybe after reading this you’ll have less fear and anxiety because you have some clue as to what to expect.

I would also like to let my readers know that these are just my personal experiences in an American psychiatric hospital. I have no idea about British hospitals or European hospitals or even hospitals in other parts of the United States. My experiences in hospitals in Florida is a stark contrast to my experience in Vermont hospitals. I find Vermont’s response to medical care and psychiatric care in general is substantially better than Florida’s. I’ll do a post on that later.

Ask for help. Take up space. Use your voice.

National Suicide Hotline: 800 273-8255 Crisis Text Line: Text START to 741741

By the way, if you need me to tag another trigger word, please just send me a message and I’ll edit the tags to take your trigger word in consideration.