#responding normally to happenings and situations just comes naturally to me i guess

[standsforjinxed]

feat. Jinx and her pretty pink eyes (part 10/?)

[kitorin]

OUR SPRING

003. perfect

5:01 pm

"Fucking hell."

Normally, you'd have more shame, but given your current circumstances it was understandable for you to curse loudly in the middle of the hallway on your way home from the school library. All of this was so irritating, the rumours and all the attempted manipulation, both which, were from the exact same source; Kira Ryosuke.

It should be fine. That's what you've told yourself for a long time. But you've been corrected. Because rumour after rumour, it kept accumulating now it's consumed and become your school life, until your identity is once again established as one that only revolves around some guy who likes you.

"You better drop dead next time I see you."

"May I help you?" You pull yourself out of your livid trance, looking up from staring at your feet as you walk and realizing with horror that you say that right in front of someone else. What's even worse, is that you recognise who it was, possibly one of the worst people to unintentionally curse at. It's Chigiri Hyoma. Rising star of the jpop and jdrama industry, who also happens to be a member of one of your best friend's favourite band.

"I am so sorry. I swear it wasn't directed to you- A lot had been going on recently." You prayed, begging that he wasn't one of those celebrities who enjoyed tormenting regular people with their obsessive and toxic fanbases, or liked exploiting their fame to ruin others.

Despite being apprehensive of the social power he holds, Meguru was right every time he called Chigiri attractive. It was evident through photos, but they don't capture his beauty fully. There wasn't a blemish on his pale skin, his tied up hair seemed perfect, it was obvious people would die for his skin and hair care routine. Long eyelashes compliment soft features and his rose coloured eyes clouded with what seemed like concern.

Even though his features weren't inhumanely perfect or complied to the beauty standard to a T, everything just synergises together, curating his natural charm.

Visually, he embodies perfection.

"Ah I see. I understand." Just when you thought he couldn't look any better he smiles, teeth perfectly white and shiny, which were adorned with dimples. It made sense why he was an actor and idol, he pulls off school uniform and even makes it look fashionable, heck his school photo probably came out gorgeous too. "So, what happened?"

You were too busy admiring his visuals to realize you were going to reveal your current struggles to a total stranger. "Well it's just- wait, I don't even know you?"

"Neither do I. All the more better to open up to, no?"

He's kind of weird. No wonder why Meguru loves him so much.

Instead of addressing and responding to his statement, you take advantage of this opportunity, since he's always surrounded by fans. "Then, how do you deal with rumours? You're apart of that band egoism, right? You'd know a lot about this"

"Well. I'm not apart of the PR team, so I don't know the full details. But rumours don't have some sort of secret formula or trick to getting rid of them. Hence why most celebrities have a PR team."

If only you had one too.

"Are you the one everyone assumes is dating Kira? I'm guessing you're referring to all the gossip related to you too." Chigiri continues, seeming genuinely curious regarding your situation.

You nod, and barely process being dragged into a janitor's closet by him, the complete shock taking too long to register.

"Oi Chigiri, what're you doing?" Ending up in a janitor's closet with one of the most popular artists of your age was not expected.

"Dating rumours, you say?" He breaths out, dismissing your question, a chuckle soon rises in his throat. "We're not too different, no? I have the perfect solution for you."

"Which is?" Once again, he ignores your questions, slowly coming closer towards you, face close in proximity to yours.

"Date me."

TWO | FOUR | MASTERLIST

PAIRING. chigiri hyoma x reader

SYNOPSIS. school gets overwhelming with constant rumours and accusations, thankfully someone is willing to help. but what happens when this mutually beneficial agreement escalates into something more?

GENRE. social media au, fake dating, idol / actor au

TAGLIST. @izzylovestnbhd, @angelchigiri, @punkhazardlaw, @silly-ez, @y-sabell-a

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[midnightmorpher]

☀️🔔 The Chime of Gifts 🔔🌙

oh lord what is that title

Anyways! I needed a quick break from writing chapter 4 of “barging into your life” (I’m nearly done, but won’t be posting it until maybe 15th July?), so I decided to write what I hope to be a future scene in the story. Sorry it’s a little rushed at the end, I’m… pretty tired lol

It’s not necessarily going to play out exactly like this, but the core idea is there and I want to make it happen :3

⭐️ Context: You and Sun are working more or less peacefully with each other, you and Moon are getting along here. Starbite is a nickname they made for you: “Star” because duh, “Bite” because you’re bite-sized.

Guess who came up with which half of the nickname.

The last straw is when a piece of sundrop candy somehow found its way into your hair.

“Ick. Kids sure can be dang ninjas sometimes, eh?” you say to Sun as you soak the stick clump under running water, easing each strand out of the gooey sweet. “Looks like I’ll need to watch my back closer from now on.”

You hear a scoff from behind. “You think your eyes are the problem here? It’s not! Look at that rat’s nest on your head, I won’t be surprised if it swept up that sundrop all on its own.” He flicks a lock of your wavy hair into your eyes for emphasis.

“Oi, don’t do that,” you snap. The candy finally comes free and you chuck it into a nearby bin. “But… eh, that’s possible too. Whatever’s the case, I’ll just have to tie it up higher where it can’t touch anything, I guess.”

Your hair is essentially a veil-like mass of wavy keratin covering over half of your back, and you normally keep it tied up in a ponytail for convenience or leave it alone altogether. But you had underestimated the chaotic nature of thirty hyperactive children, so perhaps it’s time to upgrade to a hair bun instead…

A hand suddenly claps down on your shoulder. You squeak in surprise. “There’s no need for that!”

“Huh?”

Sun jabs a thumb at himself and puffs his chest out with pride. “Luckily for you, *I* happen to be a licensed hairstylist myself. I’ll help you tame that nest of yours, and even better, it will be free of charge! What do you say?”

You squint up at him, then at his lanky noodle-fingers. He’s dexterous, sure, but trusting his strength with hair that’s attached to your very delicate scalp? Eeeeeeh.

“That’s… That’s alright, buddy,” you say as you try to shuffle around him to the daycare doors. “But I’ve got it hand- Whoa!”

Your feet leaves the ground in an unpleasant lurch as Sun plucks you up around the waist without warning. It doesn’t hurt, but you still reflexively kick the person responsible. (Un)fortunately, your feeble human strength doesn’t make so much as a ding against Sun’s silicone-cased body.

“Sorry, I should have worded myself better! What I *meant* to say was, ‘You have no say in the matter and I *will* wrestle that unruly mess into a more acceptable style suited for the daycare if it’s the last thing I do’.” His lower eyelids pull up to match his smug smile, unfazed by how you squirm ineffectually in his grasp. “Does that clear things up for you?”

It’s clear that you’re not getting out of his one-handed grip *or* this situation any time soon, and you slump over dramatically in his fist. “Ugh, *fine*. Treat me like a baby, why don’t you.”

Sun wags his finger at you. “Ah, ah, ah. What did I say about accepting help from *friends?”*

*’Bloody hell.’* “That it’s rude to refuse,” you sigh.

“It’s rude to refuse for no good reason,” he corrects you. “But close enough, Starbite!”

His long legs allow him to stride over to the middle of the daycare in five easy steps, and you’re set down on the play mats with exceeding gentleness. The phantom sensations of his fingers buzz on your torso even when he releases you, and you hastily straighten out your uniform before he notices the growing warmth in your face.

“Now you sit your little self down there and wait while I go get a brush!”

Sun doesn’t give you a chance to respond before bounding off, a thick cable carting him off to his room high up in the castle prop. You plop down with a huff. *‘Honestly, what’s the point? I might as well get it chopped off if it’ll save the both of us the trouble,’* you grumble internally, even as you tug off the black tie keeping your hair up. Locks of hair spill over your shoulders.

Sun returns in no time at all, twirling a comically tiny wooden brush in between his fingers with deft movements befitting of a knife juggler. You don’t think it weird when he circles around to sit behind you - how else is he going to “style your hair”? - but the *sudden snapping of legs around the width of your crossed legs like a Venus flytrap* forces you to scooch backwards with haste, back thudding against a warm body. “Whoa, what the hell?!”

The back of the brush bops against your nose. “Language!”

“I’ll rephrase, then! What the *heck*,” you say, turning around to shoot Sun a frown. But it falters quickly when you realise just how close you are to him; your nose is practically brushing against his brightly-coloured chest, and you can feel the soft hums and vibrations of the machinery hidden beneath the soft silicone. “Um.”

“How else am I supposed to tame that mane of yours? You need to sit closer!” His lower eyelids pull up to complement the smug grin pulling at his mouth, and he leans over with an expression that you’d call almost *eager*. “Unless that bothers you?”

“It’s not that!”

His grin widens a smidge.

“It’s just that this *can’t* be an efficient position for hairstyling, dude. Aren’t you uncomfortable?” Surely Sun possessing arms nearly as long as yourself would make it easier to work at a distance.

… And there the grin goes, levelling into the flattest expression his face is physically capable of.

“… No,” he sulks. Why is he sulking? Isn’t he the one that wanted to do this in the first place? “Maybe your eyes *are* the problem here after all…”

Now you’re even more baffled. Is this even about your hair anymore?

“Never mind!” He turns your head back around to face forward, his grip on your temples firm but gentle, and you feel a pressure beginning to pull at your hair. You tense up, digging your nails into the denim material of your jeans in anticipation of the inevitably awful process of combing.

But that’s not what happens. He doesn’t immediately start dragging bristles through your hair; instead, you feel slender fingers card through your hair with a feather-light touch, methodical and rhythmic, only stopping when they hit a small tangle, which is swiftly dealt with a sharp tug. It stings, but only for a second.

This isn’t what you’d expected.

“At least you take good enough care of your hair,” you hear Sun sigh so close to your ear. Warmth bathes your back as he leans forward for a moment to comb back a stray lock of hair. “As surprising as it is.”

“‘Course I do.” You try to sound dismissive, but the brief contact just makes you sound breathless. Why did your heart flip just now? It’s not a *bad* feeling, just… different? It makes your insides squirm.

“Ha. Hard to believe when you treat regular meals as a suggestion.” You hear the sound of wood scraping against metal. “Lean forward a little.”

Alongside his instructions, you feel a palm wide enough to encompass most of your back push against you, and you comply, limiting your line of sight to Sun’s eye-watering pants and your own legs tightly tucked into a criss-crossed form. You purse your lips into a thin line when you feel plastic bristles press against your scalp, bracing yourself for the pain-

The hairbrush pulls through your hair.

You can’t hold back the surprised squeak that bubbles up your throat.

The brush stops mid-comb. “Does it hurt?” Sun asks.

“No! No, uh, continue. P-please.” You desperately hope he can’t detect the blush rising to the tips of your ears.

He hums, but thankfully doesn’t question you as he returns to running the brush through your hair. You can’t bring yourself to hate it no matter how hard you try; the shockingly delicate touch behind the repetitive brushes sends butterflies to your chest, making it difficult not to lean back and sink into the motion. It’s not an *un*pleasant feeling per se. Quite the opposite, really. You weren’t aware that having someone comb your hair for you can be anything *but* a torturous experience to sit through, until now.

When Sun sets the hairbrush aside after nearly a minute passes, you’re tempted to ask him to keep going.

“I’m going to start braiding your hair now, Starbite,” he announces, poking you in the ribs to get your attention. “Do you think you can *hold still* this time?”

Embarrassment momentarily overtaking your motor functions, you blurt out a flustered “No!”.

“Oh.” It makes you feel a little better about yourself that Sun sounds taken aback as well. “I see. Well, um… here you go, then.”

His left leg unfurls and crosses *over* your lap, and you realise that he’s offering you the poofiest part of his pants like it’s a plushie to distract you. Even worse, you find yourself seriously considering it.

*‘… Oh whatever. If Sun makes fun of me for this, I’ll just suck it up.’*

Mind made up, you wrap your arms around the offered leg and stuff your face into the soft material for good measure.

You hear Sun snort and mutter something intelligible, but any thoughts on it flies out of the window when you feel his fingers scratching against your scalp, gathering your hair in three separate bunches.

The sensation is more subtle, yet just as soothingly hypnotic as you feel each bunch being weaved around each other. The last dregs of tension bleeds out of your shoulders and you sink into the plush material under you, your eyelids getting oddly heavier by the second…

Maybe it won’t hurt to close them for a bit…

…

…

“All done!”

A hearty pat between your shoulder blades startles you awake. Awake? Shit. “I was sleeping?!” you gasp, scrambling to get off his plush leg as quickly as possible. You hear giggling behind you. “It’s not funny! Oh god, how long was I asleep? The daycare’s gonna open soon-“

A hand baps the top of your head, knocking you back onto your rear. You glower at Sun’s unrepentant grin.

“It’s been ten minutes, so take a breath, hm?” As he talks, Sun brushes loose strands of hair away and tucks them into your…

You pause. There’s a new weight at the back of your head, and when you reach around, you feel a tightly woven braid trailing down your back and ending with the black hair tie you normally use. The braiding technique is nothing special, but it’s something *new* and you’re entranced by it, running your fingers down the path of the individual dips and curves of each silky weave. You trace over something that doesn’t match your hair’s texture, and when you pull your new braid over your shoulder to take a look, you see a red ribbon intertwining in it like a bright streak of dye. A *familiar* red ribbon that ends with an equally familiar bell tied to the braid’s tail.

You shake it to make sure you’re not seeing things. Its pleasant jingle shatters that notion.

“Sun?”

“Yeeees?” Sun coos oh-so-innocently.

“This is your bell.”

“I’m aware.”

“Why? This-“ You catch yourself before you spit out something overtly rude. “I mean, thank you for the braiding, but why the bell?”

Sun’s face is unreadable for a moment, his sun rays turning *click-click-click* in a way that you know he’s deep in thought. Then they snap to a stop and he claps his hands together. “Because! I need *some* way to keep track of you, don’t I? With your special talent of getting lost in straight corridors-“

“That was one time!”

“-and inability to cry out for help-“

“I-I’ve been getting better at that, too!”

“-this will at least alert someone to your location if I can’t come fish you out in time.” Sun reaches around and dangles the bell under your nose. It rings loudly in the empty daycare. “I won’t be hearing any negotiation around this, either! It’s staying on no matter what!”

So in other words, it’s basically like you putting a bell on your cat, Muffin. You suppose any regular human will find this offensive, but you can’t bring yourself to say that when you see how carefully the ribbon is wound into your hair, imagine how Sun must have leaned over your back in deep concentration to tie the bell in your hair…

“Thanks, Sun,” you sigh, your ears flushing brightly. “For the braiding and the bell. It… it looks nice.”

Sun puffs up with pride. “Of course it turned out nice! *I’m* the one responsible for it, after all. Did you expect anything less?”

“Nah, that’s not it. Just…” You fiddle with the cold metal thoughtfully. “It’d be a shame to have to take this out at the end of the day. I don’t think I’ll be able to tie it the same way you do.”

Sun tilts his head to you with a knowing grin.

It’s obvious what he’s waiting for. “Do you think you can *help* me?” you ask, failing to smother the self-conscious grin tugging up your lips. “Please?”

“Oh, if you insist, then I’ll take time out of *my* busy, busy schedule to help you.” His long-suffering tone clashes with the gleeful glow in his eyes, as does the way he claps his hands together.

Your grin comes easier this time. “Thanks, Sun. I really appreciate it.”

His expression melts into something you don’t see often on him (*warm*) but he snaps out of it before you can dwell on it too much. He yells something about clean-up and dashes off to the craft tables while you follow hot on his heels, both sets of bells jingling in tandem with yours and Sun’s movements.

The topic of the bell mostly fades from the forefront of your mind, until Moon shows his mug late into the night.

You’re lingering around the cafeteria area, hours after your shift is supposed to have ended, waiting for Moon to arrive for your semi-regular “show and tell” session when you hear the telltale chime of a bell above your head. It takes you a moment to realise why it sounds weirdly echoey.

“Hullo, Moon,” you say to the figure descending from the ceiling. The mechanical whirr of unwinding cables precedes the twin red eyes illuminating the rest of his face, and he lands on the edge of the table with graceful precision, hunched just outside the light’s reach. “You ready for today? I got this book from my brother, it’s-”

Just as you turn to fetch it, an arm suddenly snakes out and snatches up your new braid with a harsh jangle. You freeze, eyes slowly travelling from the bell in your hair to his bare wrist. “Oh. Um. Do you like it? Sun offered, so…”

Moon doesn’t move an inch.

“I, um. This was a surprise to me, too! But it would’ve been rude to refuse, right?” His red gaze narrows at you, and worry starts to creep in your voice. “I-is this about your wrist bell? Did Sun not tell you he was giving this to me? Oh god, he didn’t, did he.” With cat-like footwork, he uses his cable to hop over your head and hover behind you, your braid still clutched in his hand. “MoOON!”

You try to pull it back, but a sharp tug forces your gaze to the table. You hear rustling fabric somewhere above your head. *‘He must be taking it back,’* you think. The notion saddens you a bit, but it *is* both Sun and Moon’s property to begin with. It’s their right to take it back anytime they-

Your braid suddenly slaps against your back with *twice* the weight than it first started. Moon circles back around to hunch before you again, eyelids pulled up in a mischievous gaze. “Eh?”

You pull the length of hair over your shoulder. At the end of it holds not one, not zero, but *two* sets of bells. You glance over to Moon, and his now bare wrists confirms the absurd reality you’re in right now.

“Moon?”

His head tilts with a questioning creak.

“First of all, thanks for scaring five years off my lifespan. Second, *why*.”

“Why what?” his raspy voice snickers back.

“You know what I mean! Why put another set of bells on me? One’s already enough to, er, call for Sun’s attention if I need help. I don’t need *two*.”

Oddly enough, the mention of Sun puts a definitively sour note in Moon’s grin. “… Naughty.”

You falter. “I’m sorry?”

“Sun. Naughty, naughty little *liar* misleading Starbite.”

“Liar? As in, he’s lying about why he gave it to me?”

He shuffles closer to you, grin widening a tick.

“I’ll… take that as a ‘yes’. But again, *why* the lying? Why give me the bells at all?” you ask, frustration leaking into your words.

Moon’s body shakes with silent laughter, completely unfazed by your scowl. “Sun’s a scaredy-cat~” he says in a sing-song voice.

“Oh, *is* he now.” You prop your elbows on the table and lean closer, eyebrows raising. “Okay then, why did *you* stick bells on me?”

“A gift.”

The lack of hesitation takes you off guard. “O-oh. Um. That’s… What’s the occasion?” Did you forget your birthday again?

“As thank you,” Moon says simply, any signs of mischief fading for a moment. “For staying behind to see me, and for bringing me new things to see everyday.”

Your jaw drops. “Seriously? You gave me something this important for a couple of books? Moon, it’s really no big deal, I *wanted* to do this. You didn’t have to-“

His eyes narrow into warning slits.

You try to protest some more, but all of your arguments die a pathetic death in the face of Moon’s stoic stare. “*Alright*, I get it, you can stop looking at me like that.” You fiddle with your braided hair, and the gentle chime spurs you to blurt out, “Thank you, I-I’ll take care of it. Promise.”

The warm glow in your chest spikes up to your face. If Moon’s spontaneous bout of giggles is anything to go by, it’s very noticeable. “Well, um! What about Sun? I don’t remember doing anything for him, so what’s his deal, huh?” you babble, the heat in your face growing worse by the second.

His grin turns absolutely predatory.

“Is he talking to you now?” you ask.

“Yes. Insists he did *not* mean it as a gift, and it is *not* for being so kind and patient with him for all these weeks.” If words could be eye-rolls, Moon’s would have popped out of their sockets by now. “Whatever you think he’s saying, it’s *not* that. His words, pinky promise.”

It’s so stupid. So stupid in fact, that you can’t hold back the belly laugh bubbling out of your mouth, and you hide your face before Moon can have more ammo to tease you with. “Oh my *god*,” you two are going to be the death of me,” you mumble into your hands. “But… thank you.”

You can hear Moon’s systems rumbling like a cat’s purr. You don’t see any outward reaction from Sun, but if you had to guess, it’d be a lot of huffing and puffing about making sure to take good care of your presents.

“Alright, enough of that.” You pull out the book from your bag. “Let’s get on with this so that you can start your patrols soon.”

The night passes by more or less as usual, with the exception of the comforting weight that accompanies you all the way back to your apartment. It’s almost like you have a piece of Sun and Moon with you…

When you go to bed, you make sure to carefully set both bells on your bedside table, where you’ll see them first thing in the morning. “Night,” you whisper before rolling over in bed, sleep overtaking you.

[serenatheseraph]

crystal clear ,, vanitas x black!gn!reader

requested by @starzwr1tingparadise

i decided maybe vanitas comforts you? *i was inspired by a tsukiyama fic i saw on ao3 of him comforting the reader, something i doubt would rlly happen*

so like the reader has this freakishly big afro -- and im working with some weird metaphor with that

You didn't feel like talking.

But he felt like listening.

Vanitas wasn't always the type to pester someone who clearly doesn't want all that unneeded bullshit. But he guessed it was since he was always exposed to Noe Archiviste the vampire's eccentric personality rubbed off onto him. Curse that bastard.

The vampire doctor never noticed how flamboyant and voluminous your hair was until he was just up close with you. For you it wasn't new—people loved to compliment or even touch your hair. Though the latter was something you weren't cool with...hands are the most filthiest part of a person's body in your mind. Who knew what else they touched...

Though when Vanitas hesitantly patted the bed of keratin, you didn't feel upset at all. As his fingers sank into the sea of curls he felt the need to pull out, but entangled strands of hair had him sinking further. Soon he was at your scalp and slowly massaged your head.

"...Vanitas what are you doing." Right you still could respond, this wasn't a dream.

"Sorry, I just saw how frustrated you've been and...thought you needed a message." You were looking forward so he couldn't see your face, but as you turned his heart beat began to slow.

"You don't need to stop, I actually like it."

"...That's nice. Why are you so...aggravated nowadays?" He felt you tense up at the question. His actions halted that is until you did a deep breath.

"You ever felt like punching everybody in the face."

"I can't relate." That was a lie. Pure lie. He has...he just felt that's what you say in such a situation.

"Well I feel like punching everybody in the face and kicking them square in the crotch, man or a bitch." Vanitas jolted at the fact before stilling. That wasn't nice to hear considering he did do something you normally consider rude—

"Not you though, your cool. Maybe if you were Noe I would've. You never do stuff like this, y'know Vanitas?" That's right this is something Noe would do. Well that was comforting to hear you were cool with him though.

"You know, [...], your afro reminds me of rebellion."

"What?" That was unexpected, especially since you hail from a rather prestigious wealthy family of nobles.

"Just think about it: your family members all have their hair slicked back, straightened, or kept in a controlled pattern if they were to retain their natural hair pattern. You on the other hand maintaain the wildness of your curls and let it shape itself rather than let other's shape it."

"This wildness about you, is something admirable...so [...] next time you feel like punching every being in existence do come talk to me. You may ruin the chances of us being able to end this wild goose chase..."

idk if you like this @starzwr1tingparadise but i liked it cause i kept getting my attention stolen from spotify, my discord notifs--life...so yea.

[torreshalstead]

You make the miles worth it - Chapter 10

Summary - The Chicago Marathon had always been a dream for Hailey. And when she meets a stranger in pink running shoes whilst training, she realises maybe she had been dreaming for more.

Chapter - 11/?

Chapter Summary - Vanessa called in back up to find Jay when he didn’t show. Jay explains himself to Hailey.

Notes - I found the note I had on the prologue for this fic which stated it was going to be 6/7 chapters long. Well this is chapter 11 and we are looking more around the 20 mark! Hope you enjoy this chapter and its fluff makes up for the angst of the last couple of weeks! AO3 Link

The incessant knocking on her door woke Hailey from the barely peaceful nap she had been having. Her sleep was plagued by unread texts and unanswered phone calls.

‘Go away V’, she called out in her sleepy haze.

‘Not V’, a man's voice responded, the door opening to reveal Jay. An out of breath Jay, standing in her bedroom.

Hailey sat up quickly, drawing her sheets up to her chest, she had thrown her running clothes off and jumped into bed in an oversized t-shirt. Her bedhead and outfit choice was nothing compared to Jay’s. His hair was sticking up at angles she had never seen, he was wearing an Army shirt that had clearly seen better days. His navy sweatpants that adorned his lower half were covered in paint splatters and he had finished off the look with some heavy winter boots, it was currently late July.

‘Jay?’ She was completely awake now, all traces of sleep gone from her voice, her eyes roaming over him, taking in the mis-matched nature of his appearance.

‘I overslept’, he blurted out. He was breathing heavily from whatever physical excursion had got him out of breath.

‘What?’

‘I overslept’, he repeated. ‘That’s why I wasn’t there this morning and my phone was dead so my alarm didn’t go off’. He ran his hand over his unkempt hair, attempting to flatten it down but it was stubbornly remaining upright.

‘Okay’, Hailey said quietly. ‘Do you want to come in?’ she gestured to where he was still standing in the doorway.

He nodded and walked in, ‘open or close?’ he asked with his hand still on the door handle.

‘Just pull it too or else Vanessa will have a field day’

‘Not allowed boys in your room’, he winked.

Hailey laughed, ‘not on school night anyway’. All the awkwardness from the last week seemed to float away. This was the Jay that Hailey had gotten to know; flirty and cheeky. And she felt back to herself, able to counter his rebuttal without being concerned or overthinking the situation. She patted the space on the bed next to her and Jay toed his boots off and took a seat, leaning back against her carved headboard.

‘Expecting a snowstorm?’ she chuckled, nodding towards the boots.

‘They were the first pair I grabbed when Kevin almost broke down my door’. The look of confusion married with worry that crossed Hailey’s face at this statement made Jay laugh. ‘I guess I should start at the beginning’.

‘I think you should’, Hailey said, biting back a laugh.

—————————————————————————-

As the pair sat there, Jay explained what had happened. The unit had worked a late case which included a stake out meaning Jay hadn’t had a chance to charge his phone. When he finally made it home at 4am, he had gone straight to bed but his phone died before the alarm went off at 7 to meet Hailey.

After Hailey had returned home and spoken to Vanessa, she had called Kevin, who thankfully had remembered to charge his phone overnight, and Kevin had headed over to Jay’s in person. Kevin’s loud fist against the door was enough to wake Jay, who then flew into panic mode, chucked on the nearest clothes he could find and ran out the door to Hailey’s apartment.

They had both laughed at the outfit he had run through the streets in Chicago in, imagining the sight of the normally very put together Jay legging it down Washington Blvd in his winter boots.

‘How long did you wait for me this morning?’, Jay asked after the laughter had died down.

‘About 20 minutes’, Hailey responded, her fingers fiddling with a loose thread on her comforter.

‘Thought I’d abandoned you?’ Jay nudged his shoulder into hers jokingly. Hailey remained quiet, hands still playing with the thread. ‘Hey’, he nudged her again. ‘We promised to train for this race together, I’m not going to leave you’. He said.

‘I thought my awkwardness had scared you off’, she muttered.

‘Well kicking me wasn’t your finest moment’ his shoulders jostled with laughter. ‘But I did mean it’. She looked over at him. ‘We can take this as slow as you want. I’ll follow your lead Hails.’ He smiled down at her, his soft blue eyes gazing down at her with nothing but truth. ‘I’m not going anywhere’.

He had said those words to her over the phone the night she had run away from him and her own feelings, but being with him as he spoke them again, seeing how he truly meant what he said, it was a warmth spreading through her body.

‘I know’ she said quietly.

‘Good’ was the murmured response. ‘So, I’m guessing you’re not in the mood to run anymore?’ he asked, gesturing to the pile of athletic wear on the floor.

‘I mean, I could be. But not sure you’re going to get very far in those’ she said, nodding to his boots and trying not to laugh.

‘We could order some breakfast and maybe watch a movie?’ he suggested, seemingly unsure of her response.

‘Only if it’s waffles and a Marvel movie’, she said with a grin.

‘That can be arranged’, he glanced down at his outfit. ‘Umm, you mind if I shower first? I would have this morning but I had somewhere to be in a short amount of time.’ He winked at her again and Hailey felt her stomach flip.

‘Of course, bathrooms through there’, she pointed to the door leading to her en-suite. ‘There’s clean towels on top of the rack. I can order whilst you get presentable’. She laughed. ‘But I have no pants on so you’re going to need to move first’, she finished.

‘Oh really’, he raised an eyebrow flirtatiously. ‘Maybe the shower can wait’. He dramatically crossed his arms and legs and leant back against the headboard.

‘Go shower Jay’, she said as she reached over and gave him a gentle shove.

‘Okay, okay, no need to push me off the bed’, he chuckled as he threw his arms in the air. ‘I’m going!’

Hailey giggled as he headed into the shower, but not before he threw another wink in her direction and was met with a flying pillow. ‘Hey!’ he said as he closed the door behind him.

Hailey sat for a minute taking everything in. He was here, he hadn’t run away, she hadn’t scared him off. He was here, currently naked in her shower… The colour rose in her cheeks and she shook her head to stop that train of thought before it headed somewhere she wouldn’t be able to get it back. Listening carefully to ensure that Jay was actually in the shower and wasn’t about to barge in through the door, she got out of bed and pulled on a pair of plaid pyjama pants and headed downstairs. It wasn’t her best look but she figured they were past that now.

——————————————————————————

‘So he’s currently upstairs. Naked!’ Vanessa exclaimed after Hailey had given her the run down of what had transpired, she nodded in response. ‘And you’re down here, why?’ She asked with a shit-eating grin.

‘Because I’m not about to jump his bones in the shower after I literally freaked out on him twice in as many days. I told him I want to take it slow, and I do’, Hailey said, resting her forearms on the kitchen counter with her roommate stood the other side.

‘But you also want to jump his bones’, Vanessa winked.

‘Vanessa!’ Hailey’s mouth dropped open. In a desperate attempt to steer the conversation away from the man currently naked upstairs, ‘I’m ordering breakfast, do you want anything?’.

‘Nope’, Vanessa said, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

‘What’s got you so excited?’

‘Nothing’, Vanessa blushed. Bashfulness was not a common trait for the young waitress.

‘Vanessa?’, Hailey prier, sensing that her roommate wasn’t being completely honest.

‘Okay! Kevin’s picking me up in 10 minutes for breakfast’, she smiled softly.

‘And you’re giving me crap!’

‘Well, I believe Kevin intends to show up with clothes on’, she winked again.

‘In my defence, Jay did show up with his clothes on’, Hailey countered in a mutter and the pair dissolved into a fit of giggles.

——————————————————————————

Hailey walked into her bedroom, mind still on the look that was on Vanessa’s face as she had headed out the door, she had never seen her roommate look so smitten before. She was pleased for her, Vanessa deserved all the good things in this life and if Kevin could be even a small part of that then she was thrilled.

She stopped dead at the sight of Jay in a towel in front of her, beads of water still rolling down his chest, his hands towel drying his hair. She felt her mouth fall open but did nothing to stop it.

‘Like what you see Hails?’ he said, his voice thick with swagger, making no attempts to cover himself up.

Hailey couldn’t blame him, if she had abs like that, she wouldn’t be ashamed about having them out either.

‘Sorry, I-’ she said quickly and after one final glance she spun around quickly, feeling the blush spread over her cheeks and down her chest. She heard Jay chuckle from behind her and heard something that sounded distinctly like a towel hitting the floor, her cheeks reddened at the thought.

‘My bad, I thought you were still down with Vanessa’, he said.

‘I was but Kevin was picking her up for breakfast so I came back up after they left’, she said, willing herself to think of anything else except what was happening behind her.

‘As if’, he muttered quietly with a chuckle. ‘I’m going to give him such hell at work tomorrow’.

‘I ordered us food by the way’, Hailey continued, rolling on the balls of her feet, ‘should be here in 20’.

‘Great!’ he said cheerily and then added, ‘I’m dressed now so you can stop being so bashful’ he laughed.

‘I was just trying to give you some privacy’, Hailey countered as she turned around, ‘I wasn’t bashful’ she added in a quiet voice.

‘So it wasn’t your cheeks I saw going fifty shades of red just then’ he grinned.

‘I’ve a good mind to kick you out now. Breakfast or no breakfast’.

Jay clutched at his chest, ‘you wound me Hailey’.

‘Shush it you’, she said as she walked over to the dresser and pulled out a pair of fluffy socks. ‘You coming then?’ she asked over her shoulder as she headed back towards the stairs.

——————————————————————————

Waffles, Captain America and Jay. If you’d have asked Hailey this morning if she thought this is where her day would end up she would have laughed in your face. But it was nice. The pair ate their fill of their door-dash delivered waffles. Hailey choosing to douse hers in whipped cream, syrup and berries, bacon on the side and Jay skipping out on the cream but making sure to have a piece of bacon with every bite.

They argued over which Marvel movie to watch, Jay voting for Avengers: Endgame but was vetoed on the account that Hailey didn’t want to cry and then suggesting Iron Man as an alternative. Hailey wanted Captain America so the pair decided on a double feature: the first Captain America movie followed by Civil War so Jay could get his Iron Man fix.

‘Really we should watch Age of Ultron before Civil War’, Jay had said whilst consuming his bacon and waffles.

‘Let’s not start down the conversation of which order to watch them in’, Hailey said with her cheek resting on her palm, elbow on the counter. ‘We clearly both know them well enough that we can watch them in whatever order we want’.

‘Telling me you’re a Marvel nerd Hailey?’ Jay flashed her a grin as he speared a piece of waffle with his fork.

‘Clearly you are too. Eat up, we can’t get syrup on the couch or Vanessa will have our heads’ she laughed.

It was easy being herself around Jay, even being her nerdy Marvel loving self, the worries of this morning, all but forgotten. She knew she had immediately gone to the worst case scenario when he hadn’t shown up this morning, it was in her nature to always think of the negative. But as she sat with him now, enjoying his company, she was back to feeling a sense of comfort being around him again. He hadn’t laughed at her when she had explained how she felt that morning, he had listened and understood. He hadn’t mocked her when she had suggested they watch a superhero movie, he had countered with another one of the same series. Even as she sat here in her oldest t-shirt and baggy pyjama pants, hair thrown in a messy bun, he was looking at her like she was the only person in the world.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

occurring to me spinning off of other ppl talking abt similar things like, oh right, i guess my always like repeatedly going over / coming back around on the same thing phrased slightly different (like perhaps offering up similar words / phrases in a row between slashes lol) could be a behavior as someone who, being autistic, is generally misunderstood / misinterpreted when i say something, so trying to express something every which way and also sort of "translating" it into an alternate phrasing even as i'm saying it as an effort to increase the chances of someone parsing what i actually mean, or god forbid their realizing that they might be misinterpreting or missing something and seek out clarification (unfortunately either way i have not solved ableism and the double empathy problem. go figure)

like i've definitely consciously gone over a point repeatedly b/c i'm not sure someone's listening even though they're giving verbal affirmative responses. and then afterwards anyways it's evident that, in effect, i may as well have not said anything at all

and when it comes to talking specifically i sure can do a lot of it, and quickly, and it's like, well on the one hand i might like to talk, In Theory, for all the eternal lack of and/or limited opportunities to like, actually talk, socially, b/c i want to, with people i want to talk with. wherein some of it is sometimes obviously like "yeah i haven't gotten to express myself verbally For Real in fifty centuries so there's a ton of it happening now" but wherein it's also like, that so often even in more ordinary "practical" exchanges it's like, you have 5 seconds to respond & anything beyond that will be ignored, but oh also what you're saying in the 5 seconds might be ignored / so misinterpreted you may as well not have said anything, when there's not just the double empathy matter but that people are only saying something At you and there's maybe like one or two exact ways for you to respond "correctly" and that's all that would be parsed. lot of [the conversation "moves on"] or [you're the person who just so happens to "tend" to be interrupted / talked over] or [people are focused on something else and will be wandering away in twenty seconds] so like, anything you have to say has to be said Now. and also that when i communicate spontaneously, even comfortably, i gotta keep up with it or i might lose whatever train of thought or forget whatever thing i was about to say a moment ago. while on the other hand i can also Select / Edit what i'm going to say but that kind of communication might take "too long" for [no time delay] exchanges, so, and/or be deemed Weirdly phrased anyways. and if i'm trying to convey a concept/idea to someone else through the medium of language and that means expressing it a dozen different ways all in a row? all the more reason to need to talk 500 mph to even try to fit it in with the three seconds i probably don't actually have.

thinking of that like, the idea of Performance / Acting seeming more natural like oh right, the organic experience of effectively masking / trying to do things "correctly"/"normally" in a bunch of different situations w/different people being like, of course that could feel like acting, you're not even simply cutting & pasting the same role or mode into things every time you mask, b/c it's about taking the cues from the specific people in whatever specific situations, despite the idea allistic ppl have that they follow Rules and have their certain Skills that serve them well across the communicating / socializing board and that's why ppl don't ignore/exclude/reject/ostracise/punish/etc them like they do autistic people, when really the only constant factor they're operating with that serves them across the board is [being allistic]. also the affinity for linguistics when you've Already had cause to look at language as a system and one you can work with and be creative with, while also analyzing for patterns in usage and formation and like, the external examples of how it's evolved and analyze and question how people have interpreted what some language has been used to convey, like, especially interested in translation in that way, wherein there's that truth of like, generally it's not one to one equivalents b/w languages and literal "no one else could possible translate it otherwise" options every time, and there's Always effort and flexibility in translating something more closely to what's being said and to how Your translation would be interpreted by a third party, and that in translating the same language in different ways, different translations might prioritize trying to more accurately translate different elements vs another translation's effort, to say nothing of how deliberate omissions or effective mistranslations can be made to edit whatever concepts and that could be "invisible" to people who can't translate directly themselves. sure not that far from what it feels like just engaging w/nt people verbally. autistic people being """pedantic""" when noting potential ambiguity / alternate interpretations of something, weird for enjoying wordplay or choosing Unusual words to use in their own verbal communication....linguistics. the theatrical experience of like, you mean being around people as friends isn't "supposed" to feel like a tense matter of Trying to Act Right that you can only fuck up and even if you succeed you're just locked into that exact tense performance going forward?

but also of course, linguistics / language / translation is fun and engaging to me and i've always been interested in words and i am beyond some idea that it'll make me more successfully understood by allistic ppl or something. theatre has always been so fun to me that i didn't even realize i loved it / had that strong interest for the longest time b/c i just kind of figured everyone would feel that way (i never really felt that affinity or even theoretical interest towards like, acting in film though, which i suppose is the more "normal" version of acting, and if i was just experiencing The Default anyways, surely i would've. also there's no default ofc) and whether i could Only have some like, lively theatricality as this automatic way i am, it sure happens v naturally / spontaneously, like i'd have a very hard time not using my hands to illustrate everything / kind of interact w/my own thoughts spatially in real time, or making Big Expressions lol, probably don't have that big affect otherwise, sometimes when i'm like masking and do an "oh haha :)" stock response to someone and i'm not facing them it's like, my expression Is very unchanged from :I in that moment. cue every last thing that's like, easily this super mundane understandable reality for disabled people that's some horror media's "creative" cue like my god this person is too Inhuman of course they're going to kill me....just an elevated version of affirming how "normal" people already disdainfully feel abt Others(tm) irl??? horror could never :0 lmfao....as ever that i don't mind the genre in theory based on [scary on purpose] but that i dislike & disrespect so many tendencies & specific examples i really may as well say i dislike it. i don't come up w/ideas much but thinking like, horror short where you're just minding your own business, everyone else also acting "normal," but at any time inexplicably ppl suddenly lash out at you w/open aggression before everyone's quickly right back to "normal" & you're just supposed to continue??? like, that's [so someone's abusive], that's [so you're autistic]. wild how that overlaps (it's not)

also footnote abt how i even remembered the other day though that like, it's never felt right using [drawing] to do anything autobiographical or even to try drawing myself. obviously i wouldn't say the [me] in my very specific niche gay fanart of a "so true so verisimilitudinous" autistic fave over & over is very elusive or fathoms below the surface, even when transformative ideas & canon are not at all simply all like "wow exactly me," but that feels like less of a Conscious Translation than like, a diary comic or something like that would be, or god forbid the like pensive short essay through comic / illustration. that feels like translation as Masking, basically, like the process would feel artificial and like only an effort to make something more appealing and more inaccurate anyways. and like, the other way i talk about myself or convey the ideas i want to convey is just by talking or writing casually, just like so. and i also just think it's obvious like, Immediate Appeal is for the theoretical idea that oh ppl can just mask their way to Normalcy or choose to act right & be (almost) as good as Normal anyways, lol. that i don't want to do anything that feels like yet more Unilateral Effort to communicate and by trying to adopt whoever else's terms. like ofc being myself looks more like [do you like 1000 drawings of an extremely niche interest?] or [do you tolerate reading Short Essays in these bursts of verbal expression?] or perhaps not communicating b/c in practice it's generally punishing and it's like, when also people generally dislike / don't connect to you it's back at them b/c what else would it be, nothing's actually been unilateral the entire gd time

oh also being funny / using comedy deliberately as a more successful way to communicate is definitely a whole thing i'm onto too, but that could have its own paragraphs on paragraphs and it's already half past three while i mean to do something else, so. but it's also similar to everything else re language, theatricality, lol

[votestaynight2]

13th Day - LAST TALK (Scene 1)

It's obviously a trap. I'm curious about what Zouken wants to discuss, but I can't be away from Sakura right now.

"―――I refuse. I can't trust you. Tell him to come to me if he wants to talk." "I see. Then I shall tell him so."

…I don't hear Assassin's voice after that. He must already be out of my house, heading back to Zouken.

"…This is fine. This should be all right." Even if I can face off against Zouken, I have no way to kill him. First of all, he's a monster one can't talk with. I have to have all the weapons ready if I am to confront him.

"―――Gem sword, huh?" The secret weapon Tohsaka and Ilya are trying to make. Even Archer's arm, which remembers close to a thousand swords, has no information on such a weapon.

"…But we can win if we can reproduce it. I can believe in you, right, Tohsaka?" I lie down on the tatami. …I'm tired, so I'll sleep. After I wake up, I'll go see Sakura, prepare dinner, and help Tohsaka―���――

"――――……Hm." Dinner's presence wakes me up. Does dinner have a presence? Of course it does. Like the sound of a knife on the cutting board, the sound of the TV, and the good smell of the food.

"――――Huh?" In my room are Sakura's pajamas, an empty bowl, and a wet towel.

"――――――――" I search through my memory. Looking at what's here, it seems I went and treated Sakura. I try to remember, but I stop myself. These are trivial things. I must've forgotten about them somehow, so I don't even need to think about it.

Tohsaka is the one preparing dinner. Sakura and Ilya aren't here. They must be in the guest rooms.

"Oh, you're back? You just went out, saying you were tired and wanted to rest." "――――――――" My face stiffens for a second. "No, I'll help. You must be tired as well, so I can't let you do all the work." I try to respond naturally so I won't sound suspicious.

"Are you stupid? I appreciate the offer, but you can't use the knife with that arm of yours. Just let me handle it tonight." She starts cutting. She must be stir-frying vegetables, as she's cutting lots of green peppers.

"…I see. Then I'll go prepare the bath. Oh, I guess I'll do the laundry while I'm at it. Can I go get your laundry?" "W-Why are you saying such a stupid thing!? I'm going to do that myself, of course…!" She slams the knife down on the cutting board. She's dicing up some beef. I guess we're having meat tonight.

"What's she making?" I head to the bath. I don't know what she's going to make, but I'm looking forward to―――

"…?" The lights go off. "Is it a blackout…?"

"…I guess so. The switches aren't responding." "…Yeah. The boundary field hasn't been activated, so it's not an intruder." "Yeah, even if Zouken attacks us, the boundary field will――――"

Not necessarily be activated. Remember what happened this morning. Assassin was able to pass through the boundary field without any difficulty――――!

"Stay here, Tohsaka. I'm going to go check, just in case." "Hey, hold on. I'll go too. It's dangerous to go by yourself."

"Oh, yeah. …No, then please go check on Sakura. I'll head there right after I go get Ilya." "―――Okay. You can leave Sakura to me."

I hurry to Ilya's room. It's dead quiet, but the house feels normal. "Maybe I'm thinking too much. This is just an ordinary power outage." Well, I guess I'll go wake up Ilya while I'm at it. Even though the power failure interrupted the preparations, it's almost dinnertime.

"Are you awake, Ilya?" I open the door. "――――――――" Only scattered red comes into my view.

"―――――Ilya." Ilya isn't here. All that's left are traces of blood. In the corner of the room, admist the splattered blood, are minced flesh and a bundle of silver hair, but that's not Ilya. Ilya is not human anymore.

I jump out of the room. I cool down my head that's about to ▊▊▊▊▊▊▊▊ and head to the guest room. ―――Sakura's in danger. I grasp the situation in a second, but I haven't actually grasped the situation at all, and I jump out into the yard.

There… …Stands something that should not exist.

"Ah――――――――" It's like a ghost under a willow. Why the boundary field did not go off. Why such a thing is here. Before I can answer these questions… There was no time to run, and there was nowhere to run. The house is already engulfed by the shadow. If that is the shadow itself, there is no way to escape the dark night.

I've known it since last night. I will be killed the instant I meet it.

The tentacle pierces my chest like a crowbar. It mercilessly rips me open. Blood gushes while my ribs bloom out like a flower. Ilya must have suffered the same fate.

The flower petals flutter about. Kocher. ――――Here. Scalpel. ――――Here. Unable to fight back, Emiya Shirou's body is prepared for cooking with no anesthetic――――

TAIGA DOJO

"H-He's dead…!" The impossible has occurred. The door was locked from the inside when Fujimura-san went into the room. The only ones in the room are me, Fujimura-san, and Lady Ilya.

"But how…!? There's no one in this room other than us!" "There are two ways. One is an accident with lack of affection points. The victim had a low Sakura-chan affection score, so he mistook the ornamental guillotine for the bed, and he went to sleep."

"I see. It seems very unlikely, but it's certainly possible. That kind of taste is expected from Sakura." I see. Sakura's taste sure is troublesome. So the bed turned into a guillotine the instant someone got on it!

"Yes. So the solution would be to start over from day 9 and increase Sakura-chan's affection points. The other method is a direct offense brought on by an external factor. The victim was also the assailant. He tried to kill Sakura-chan here. But he was killed instead because the knife-throwing security system was set off―――"

"Mississippi system, huh? Setting such a scary trap… Sakura is a scary girl…!"

Their speculation heats up. But I think of another method that doesn't fall under either scenario. It goes like this. Going back to yesterday morning. What if my death was determined the instant I said "no" to Tohsaka-san's question…? "Anyway, the case is solved. Let's go, Lady Ilyasviel. We can leave the rest to the police and get away from this haunted mansion." "……Okay. But this case left a bad aftertaste."

The actors leave. The only one left on the stage is me, the corpse. ―――The conclusion is… I wish they'd never again do a one-time ridiculous Tiger Dojo that has no logical solution.

[pudimsuki]

Bakugou + pool + nsfw☺️

Pool fingering | Bakugou x reader

Hi, hope you like it ❤

Warnings: NSFW (18+ content), fingering, public place, jealousy, swearing cause it's our blasty boy, haha.

You knew you shouldn't test your luck with your hotheaded boyfriend. Of course you knew. But you did that? Well…

You’ve been teasing him all morning. Class 3-A went for a day off at the pool, planned by Kaminari and Mina, and you decided it would be a great idea to mess with your explosive lover.

First was the too-small bikini you decided to wear. Then you didn't pay much attention to him. Bakugou hates it when you don't pay attention to him. And to complete the package, you were spending way too much time with the other boys, even offering to put sunscreen on them.

Bakugou was fuming. You could tell even with your back turned to him. The way he threw daggers with his gaze at you wasn't the slightest bit subtle. The only reason he still hadn't done anything was his enormous pride, but to say jealousy wasn’t eating him alive would be a big fat lie.

He knew you were doing that on purpose. Oh, he fucking knew.

The way you bowed when talking to Kaminari, or the way you rubbed Kirishima's chest “oh so innocently” when you said he was getting stronger with his new training routine, being especially louder to make sure he would hear it.

He was getting tired of that little game you were playing. But it's when you went to that half and half bastard that he loses his shit.

“Todoroki-san, can you help me put on sunscreen? I can’t reach my lower back.”

The heterochromatic boy blinked at your question, surprised by the sudden request, but as soon as he held the bottle, Mina appeared at your side, whispering in your ear:

"Hope you know what you're doing, cause here comes the bomb."

Before you could react or respond, you felt your arm being gripped by a hand you knew all too well. Bakugou squeezed your arm, pulling you away from a stoic Todoroki who still held the filter in his hands.

“The fuck are you doing?” He growled in your ear.

You turned to face him, battering your eyelashes. “Nothing, Katsu.”

“Don’t play dumb now.” He said, red eyes burning yours. “You’re coming with me.”

You felt a shiver go up your spine, but chose to keep the facade.

“But Katsuki, I wanna swim.”

“I don’t care.”

You pout. “I wanna go to the pool.”

His jaw clenched at your behavior; you were walking on thin ice with him.

“And besides”, you proceed. “Everyone’s here, we can’t just leave now.”

He knit his brows, annoyed, but after a few seconds of deliberation, a mischievous smile came to his lips.

“You wanna go to the pool?”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, you knew where that smile came from. “Uh, I guess so.”

“Great, then we go to the pool. You've spent way too much time with these extras.” You blinked, surprised at how easy it was to convince him, but followed him as he led you to one of the corners of the bluish pool.

The cold water was a balm for the hot summer day, and you felt every pore in your body quickly getting used to the change in temperature.

"Hey man, are you going to play?" Kirishima yelled at Bakugou, raising a water polo ball.

"Nah, I'm fine. I’ll play the next round."

Kirishima just shrugged "All right."

"Are you sure you don't want to play?" You asked, knowing your boyfriend's competitive nature.

Bakugou just wrapped an arm around your waist, leaning against the wall of the reservoir, keeping some distance from the others who were already gathering to form teams for the game.

"I have other things in mind." He spoke close to your ear, his voice showing signs of his earlier irritation.

You grinned. "Aw, Katsu. Did you get jealous? That's alright, everyone knows I'm taken."

"Oh, they know. But I think you need a little reminder."

“Yeah? And what are you planning to…” You stop mid sentence, gasping. “Katsuki, what are you doing?” You inquired, feeling him run two fingers up and down your clothed sex.

“Playing with what belongs to me. Got a problem with that?”

He rubbed harder, making you squirm your legs.

“Katsuki, not here.”

“You’re not the one making the rules here, sweetheart.” He growled, holding you in place with his strong arm, your back glued to his chest. “I think you need a little punishment for being such a fucking brat.”

With that said, you felt his hand go inside your bikini panties and moaned at the direct contact. The movement of water making you extra sensitive.

You try to pull away from him, eyes wide at your classmates who are playing absentmindedly not far away.

"Don't you dare leave here. It'll be worse if you try." His voice was angry. Oh boy, you were in serious trouble. "Now this is what's going to happen. You're going to stand here like a good girl while I play with you and you're going to control your fucking voice. Your moans are for my ears only, got it?"

You just nodded quickly, holding his arm for support. You knew there was no escape the moment Bakugou put something in his head.

You stifled a moan as you felt him circling your clit slowly.

"Tell me, how funny it was to tease me, uh?"

Bakugou squeezed your little bundle of nerves between his fingers. Hard. You whimpered, shifting your legs. “Sorry Katsu.”

"Sorry Katsu." He mocks, mimicking the tone of your voice. "I should spank your ass so everyone could see my handprints through that tiny thing you call a bikini."

Any answer you could think of caught in your throat, replaced by a loud moan as Bakugou thrust two of his thick fingers at once into your tight hole.

"Didn't I tell you to control your voice?" He ranted, knuckles deep inside of you. "Or do you want everyone to listen to you, uh? Do you want them to see you purring like a little kitten with just my fingers?"

“N-no, I don’t.” You manage to babble, even with his thrusting starting.

He pulled his fingers out almost completely and thrust them back in tightly. You bite your lip, trying not to make any noise, but he could clearly hear your muffled cries.

“(Y/n)-chan!”

Your eyes widen when you hear Ochaco's voice. For a terrifying second, you think she's aware of your "lewd acts" in the water, but the giant smile she wears makes your worries slip away. In fact, from that little distance, everybody thought he’s just being weirdly affectionate and hugging you, even though he wasn't much of a PDA man. That is, at least for the time being.

You held your boyfriend's wrist, but he pretended not to notice. Instead, he started to thrust with more vigor.

"Answer it." Bakugou ordered in your ear.

"Stop." You mumble, almost desperately.

"If you don't answer her, she'll move closer. You don't want her to see how tight you get around my fingers, do you?"

Your walls contracted involuntarily, causing Bakugou to giggle behind you.

"(Y/n)-chan?" She called again and you noticed with horror that she actually started to approach.

"Ochaco!" You said, too loud to sound normal. "H-hey."

She smiles at you, still oblivious to your boyfriend's steady hand turning you into mud. "Me and the girls are going to buy ice cream. Do you want to come?"

"Uh- I..." That could be an easy way out of the current situation. Bakugou couldn't say no in front of Uraraka, but a slight squeeze on your waist told you better not to test the waters with him. "I pass, s-sorry.”

"Oh okay." She said and you thought she was going to leave, but she frowned at you instead. "Are you okay?"

"Excellent!" Again, too loud. Bakugou chuckled softly. "I'm great."

"Oh, it's just... Your expression looks a little pained."

"Oh" you replied, self moan self surprise. "The... The water! The water is cold."

“Really? I think it’s…”

"Uraraka-san!" Mina yelled from afar. You almost closed your eyes in relief. "Let's go!"

"I’m going!" With that, she said goodbye quickly and left. You breathed, releasing the moan you had been holding back.

"Holy shit,” Bakugou laughed. “I don't know if round face is too slow or if you're just a good actress."

You, on the other hand, were too busy paying attention to the movement of his fingers to laugh.

He fastened his pace, making you close your eyes and lean your head on his shoulder. You whimpered when you felt him hitting a spot that made you see stars. “Katsu, please.”

“What?” He asks above you. “You're gonna cum, princess?”

He could feel you were close, your walls tightening around the double digits. You started to feel a knot form in your stomach.

“Tell me who do you belong to.”

“You, Katsuki. I’m yours.” you cried, not really caring with anything but the feeling of his digits right now. You hoped that the loud laughter and shouts of your friends as they played covered your voice.

“Good girl.” He said, voice deep. You could feel his hard cock pressing your ass behind the fabric of both your bathing suits.

You didn’t last longer. Bakugou was quick to cover your mouth with his hand when you came. The noise you made would definitely have alerted someone closer. You closed your eyes and breathed in as he withdrew his fingers from inside you, your juices mixing with the water.

The boys called Bakugou to play the second round, but he declined by saying he wasn't in the mood. You blinked at him, still coming back from your high, wondering what he would do now, but he just kissed a spot behind your ear before whispering.

“We’re finishing this in the changing room.” He announced. “Guess It’s my turn to be pleased.”

Now, we love a jealous Bakugou, don't we?

Thank u for reading and for the support!

Angie ❤

[any comments will be answered with my main account: @angie-1306]

[nejiraez]

one day, you all will know true peace when i stop making bakugou the default character to the maladaptive daydreamz i write. but until then...

get well soon! | bakugou katsuki

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader // 2.9k words

genre: fluff — contains spoilers from mha chap 298; includes kissing, thats it!

summary: free bakugou until it’s backwards!!! but until then, he appreciates having your presence around as he takes the time to properly heal.

the way i haven’t written a full fic since oct </3... but i needed to post this b4 aquarius season ends tmrrw...

He’s never had to stay this long in a hospital before.

Sure, there were minor check-ins that he had to tend to at the clinics every so often from the injuries he’s received, but he never had to stay more than a few days at hand.

“Only a couple more days until you’re discharged…” 

The sound of your voice prompts Bakugou to shift his gaze away from the TV screen stationed at the corner of his hospital room to focus his sights on you. Deep shades of scarlet watch as your hands absent-mindedly pick at the white petals from the bouquet that his mother had gifted him. 

Carnations, a ‘get well soon’ present that would prompt him back to wellness. They were becoming quite the eyesore. The stems were beginning to droop and dull in colour with how poorly maintained they had been kept for the past week.

“That must be exciting for you, yeah?”

Bakugou shrugs, but he’s quick to regret his slight movement due to the small wince that follows shortly after. Despite being placed in the hospital for a little over a week now, a great mass of Bakugou’s body still aches. “It’s whatever,” he mutters, dismissing the subject matter altogether, “I’ll be back to doing the same crap over again anyway, so it’s nothing special.”

Closing your eyes, you sink yourself further down into your seat near his bedside and sigh. The windows a few steps away from Bakugou’s left allow for the sun’s late afternoon glow to beam into his room. You’ve sat here with him for the past two hours and a half from when you first came.

“You’re so pessimistic, you know that?” You announce, resting your arms against the bed’s side rails, which promote access to you, propping your cheek onto your hands with your face turned towards Bakugou. “Always thinking so negatively.”

Choosing not to respond to your comment, Bakugou soaks in the brief silence shared within the confines of his room.

For the past few days, other than his immediate family, who was relentless about visiting him as much as they could- save for the days where work would pull them away- your regular visits were something that became apart of Bakugou’s daily schedule. 

Wake up. Eat whatever shitty food the kitchen staff has to offer for the day. Wait through numerous check-ups and appointments, while the nurses examine the vital state of his internal organs. And then, he has a bit of free time to himself before either you or any visitor arrives at Hosu General hospital.

“I’m just telling it as it is.”

Bakugou would be lying if he said that he didn’t look forward to your visits.

Like Pavlov’s law, he’s grown conditioned upon awaiting your arrival every day, always finding himself sitting a bit straighter in his bed whenever 15:00 rolled around on the clock. 

Growing bored with not much to do, Bakugou allows his eyes to wander the room, skimming each object with little to no thought before his eyes would drop down on your form once again. With your eyes still closed, Bakugou takes this chance to absorb your presence before him fully. Watching the tiny twitches that would happen every now and then on your face out of curiosity.

The amount of fear and dread that washed over you the moment you caught news of how Bakugou jumped in front of his childhood friend, Midoriya, to spare his life, in turn, putting his own on the line had you aching to the bone. 

You were scared and couldn’t bring yourself to the thought that you would lose him, and there wasn’t much that you could do about it since you and a few others were far from where the main fight had gone down.

Regardless of whether Bakugou had a chance of waking up or not, you were still adamant about swinging by his hospital room as often as you could until the second day where he miraculously woke up. And caused an uproar as he did. He had to be restrained as he tried to check up on the others’ wellbeing as he did so.

To be placed inside of a room alone, with no one around to tell him what the fuck exactly went on, Bakugou was on edge. Hands down, that day would take the cake as being the most overwhelming experience he has had at his time here. Where were was Deku, for starters? And where did you disappear off to? 

He really didn’t deserve you.

Pulling himself out from his thoughts, Bakugou breaks the silence to pester you with something. “Pass me that, will you?” He asks, nodding his head over to the sole snack that sat on his bedside table. Something that one of the nurses left behind for him after his physical exam.

You blink, snapping yourself back to reality. You crane your next behind you, following his line of sight to the bright Tarami packaging. “Sure,” you grab and toss it for him to take.

Bakugou grunts out his gratitude. “Getting to eat normal food again will be the pinnacle of my life,” he states, rolling the Tarami around in his hands. “They feed us nothing but literal dog water and bland shit. “

“I’m sure the staff is trying their best. You aren’t the only mouth they feed in here after all,” you say, referencing the fact that your other peers, such as Todoroki and Midoriya to name a few, found themselves in the same situation as he did. 

“I fuckin’ guess,” he mutters in response, his focus shifted onto trying to rip open his snack but to no avail.

“Want me to - ”

“Don’t need it,” he says, cutting your sentence short. His bandaged thumbs are still fumbling to get a good grip on the plastic seal that stood in the way between him and his fruit cup. “This stupid gauze is just - ” The cup tumbles out from his hold and rolls out onto his lap. “Dammit!”

You smile at the display in front of you. Bakugou glaring at the container as if it had crossed him wrong was quite the sight to see. The fact that he has shown no signs of making another attempt at opening the seal gave you an indication that it was your turn to step in.

What a dork.

“Jesus, Katsuki,” you say, shaking your head at his stubborn nature. You take the fruit cup off his lap and, without issue tear the seal off before passing it back to him. He was too headstrong for his own good sometimes. “Nobody’s gonna bite you if you ask for help once in a while.”

Bakugou scoffs - losing steam now, he tips the rim of the cup against his lips, knocking back as many diced peaches he could fit inside of his mouth.

A mix of wonder and admiration suddenly crosses you as you study how quick he is to swallow down his food. Not even bothering to make use of the silver spoon left astray on the stand.

Bakugou silently chews. His cheeks have bulked up in size for the time being until all traces of food have been gone. Cute. “You’re so - ” You start but cut yourself short, wanting to enjoy the serene atmosphere rather than spurring him to the edge towards nagging at you.

You reach your hand out towards Bakugou, thumb grazing the corner of his mouth to clean the small mess he has made, to which he gently swats your hand away. His mannerisms were still the same as ever, never changing.

“I’m so what?” He asks, flicking his attention onto you as he watches the way your eyes linger on his face.

“You’re so amazing, was what I was going to say.” 

“Damn straight.”

You half-heartedly roll your eyes at his narcissistic response and reach for your phone, checking the time. “Wow, it’s now getting to 18:00?” You exclaim, swiftly entering the passcode to your iPhone and so that your fingers could scroll to the Tokyo Train Navigation app to check the times of when you should catch the next ride home.

Bakugou brows bump together in confusion at your surprise. “What about it? That means you’re ditching me already?” 

“Only for today though, the next train is coming in 30 minutes, and I gotta catch it before it gets dark out.”

As much as Bakugou isn’t a big fan of having your time spent together but abruptly short, he understands where you’re coming from, mentally putting himself in your shoes. 

At hours like these, when the begins to sun hide behind the city’s tall, towering buildings, it isn’t an ideal situation to have you walking out alone in the middle of dimly lit streets where villains may lurk at any corner. Especially after the shit show that went down this past week with the jailbreak.

He’d have no problem walking you home at times like this, but he can’t. Not when he’s on a “house arrest” list with the staff of the hospital.

“Fine,” he replies, dropping his head into his hands, which then finds purchase through his hair. Pissed with the cards he’s been dealt with. Feeling like he should clarify about your safety, Bakugou pipes up, “Make sure you ask the front desk to have one of their idiot guards walk you to the station. I hear that they do that.”

“Yeah, of course,” you say, collecting your belongings from the ground. “Not trying to be edited in with the clouds.” A remark that was supposed to prompt a lighthearted, humorous feel to the conversation, but Bakugou remains tight-lipped as ever. A fitting expression for your grouch of a boyfriend.

“I’m serious. Text me when you get home too.”

“And so am I! I love my life.”

And he loves you-- was something that Bakugou refrains himself from saying. It was something that he still had trouble saying verbally but had no difficulty expressing.

You walk towards the door, ready to bid your counterpart a farewell, but he beats you to the punch.

“The hell are you doing?” Bakugou’s voice halts you from making your grand exit.

He stares at you sharply from his bed. Glowering with jaw taut as he eyes your hand placed onto the sliding door. “Cut that shit out, come back.”

“For why?”

You hear Bakugou breathe out a hushed hiss, becoming peeved at how evasive you were when he knew for a fact that you were aware of what he wanted you to do for him. “Come and do the thing.”

At his sudden inquiry, you finally turn around to face him. “What thing?” You prod, wanting to hear him say what he wanted out loud. To be straightforward with you for once rather than dancing around the topic like he always does.

Sidestepping the multiple wires and the IV tube that he was hooked up to, at last, you close the distance between you both. Finding yourself back beside Bakugou’s bed, and now settle yourself down onto the small space that he has created for you on his mattress. 

You feel giddy. A hazy warmth exudes from your chest that spreads down to your toes as you watch the slow change of pigmentation in Bakugou’s face. Blotches of a soft, rosy pink littered his exposed neck, indicating the effect that had over him.

Caving in, Bakugou swallows down his pride and utters, “Kiss me…” His tone is wavering in the slightest.

There it was.

Propping your hand near Bakugou’s face to steady yourself, you nod. You’re gentle in the process as you move much closer to Bakugou, attentive as not to brush up against any of his wounds. “Okay,” you murmur. 

You think to yourself about how pretty looks from your point of view. Admiring how Bakugou's plush and soft skin was despite the light bruises and scratches he’s gained from the fight, he looked very well-maintained for a hospital patient.

The more time that you take, you become aware of the fact that Bakugou isn’t above taking a fistful of your shirt and tugging you down so that you could meet his lips. Hell, it wouldn’t surprise you if he were to do so right now.

But he doesn’t. 

Instead, he waits. Patiently, for you to make your move and just fucking kiss him already. Though there’s only so much he can take before he breaks.

Feeling the bed dip beside him, Bakugou could damn near feel his heart hammering against his chest. “Hurry up and get on with it will you,” he chides, his striking features already beginning to twist into an unreadable expression.

You laugh, unable to bite back your giggles as the male fixed you with his signature scowl. “Look at you, being a bully to the person you want a kiss from...” You say, leaning in close, now only hovering a few mere centimetres from his lips, both of you desperate for what would come next.

“You’re so mean, I swear.”

And that’s when you decide to close the distance, pressing your lips together.

It was quite sweet, literally, for his lips tasted of citrus.

Bakugou does a poor job at suppressing down his groan the moment your fingers wind themselves into his hair. The pads of your fingertips adoringly dance across his scalp.

The kiss starts off relatively chaste, both of you relishing in each other’s warmth as you pepper several small kisses against him—your stomach ties into knots as you experience how gentle he was being with you.

Despite the dull aching pains that Bakugou could still perceive whenever he made broad movements with his arm, his hand steadily finds its way to reach up towards your neck, pressing you further against him to deepen the kiss, swiping his tongue upon your lower lip. 

When your tongue comes into contact with his, it’s tentative and quick. And then it happens a few more times before fully feel comfortable enough to full-on kiss Bakugou.

Your thought process was growing muddled. Not a clear premise came to mind as his bandaged hand trails to the small of your back and back up again.

With every sound or hum of approval that you made way past your lips, it fed Bakugou’s desire to satisfy both you and his needs even. His thumb smooths over the curve of your jaw, easing your nerves each time you shyly pull away attributable to the great intimacy that swirled between you both.

He chases your lips, fervent on returning your energy that you were relaying to him, back tenfold. He loves you. So fucking much, and he only hopes that his appreciation and devotion may reach you.

You choke on a tiny gasp. “Katsuki - ” And that’s when he feels it, right in his chest. It’s as if he has been jump-started back to life, his heart quite literally skipping a beat at the sound of his name tumbling past your lips. It was adorable, and he wanted to hear you like that again. Say his name like that again, on loop without end.

Fuck.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, your breathing was starting to grow laboured now, and you decide to break the kiss before things can escalate and before you miss your train.

Pulling away from Bakugou, the traces of confidence that you once had prior to the kiss have all but flung itself out the window, completely gone now. “I’ll, uhm -” You stammer over your words, brain trying to compose a proper sentence in spite of your current dazed state. “I’ll be back to see you again, with the others.”

With how flustered and scatterbrained you were acting, it stroked Bakugou’s ego beyond belief. A wicked smile threatens to split upon his face, but he bites it down along with his greed to ask for one more kiss before you go. “Tomorrow,” he affirms, flicking his eyes back towards the TV—an entirely new show publicized on its screen.

You hoist yourself up from the bed and stand to your feet, ignoring how your knees almost buckle. “Right,” you say. No fucking way were you this beat up over making out with your own boyfriend, for crying out loud- you thought as you wander towards the door, almost taking out one of the monitors in your trail. 

Sliding the door open you step out, but you poke your head back in, stalling a bit so that you could look at the blonde for the last time that day. “But until then, get well soon, okay?” 

Bakugou’s eyes stay glued to the screen, trying to distract himself from how damn sweaty his palms were, that or how he could feel the beat of his heart pick up in tempo. Its incessant pounding was all too much for him.

It’s so stupid how whipped he found himself to be nowadays. “I know,” he dismisses, a bit all too quickly. He wants your ass out before you have a chance to glance at the heart monitor he was wired up to.

Fortunately enough for him, you don’t. You wave and close the door behind you, your smile being the last thing he sees.

With the coast clear, Bakugou throws himself back onto his mountain of pillows. “Shit,” he curses, panting out a sigh of relief seconds after you were gone.

That was amazing, you were amazing, he thought, recounting the kiss. He swipes his palms against his sheets, being sure to get rid of any nitroglycerin that may linger to activate his quirk successfully.

Bakugou can’t stress how much he’s aching for nightfall to come, knowing that he would be one sleep from getting to see you again, and again, and again, until he would finally be let free.

But until then, as you had said, he had to heal.

And with the knowledge of you being around whenever he needed you the most, Bakugou was most definitely on the bright path to a speedy recovery.

[comfortbucky]

I asked for the doctor!bucky andd you don't have to write but I forgot to ask... He is like a really busy doctor and it surprises the female reader that he is going to do her stitches... Wanda is his assistant. He has to give you a pain numbing shot in your cut and he comforts you when you scream and writh in pain... Thanks xxx

𝗻𝘂𝗺𝗯 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚ ⋆ ⋆｡˚

pairing: doctor!bucky x fem!reader

warnings: descriptions of bloody injuries, medical settings, stitches, needles

A/N: omg i’ve never written for doctor!bucky before so i’m excited hehe :) thank u for ur request! // i changed around who was administering the numbing agent and doing the stitches btw i hope u don't mind, just made more sense in my head for bucky to be able to comfort her if his hands are free!

hope u enjoy! <3 sorry if this isn't that good asjdfhaldf

Y/L/N = your last name

also let me just indulge myself and sprinkle some of my own experiences in this bc a couple months ago i literally slammed my head into a wall and cut my eyelid😃nothing bad enough to get stitches but i do have a scar💗

word count: 2k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

“Y/N! Come quick!”

Y/N was digging through her dresser for a sweater when her roommate, Darcy, called out for her. She lifted her head up and spun it without thinking, completely forgetting that her dresser was situated in the corner of her room, slamming her head into the wall.

Her ears started to ring and she bent over in laughter, her natural response to pain, as tears threatened to fall down her face.

“Y/N?” Darcy was met by silence, Y/N struggling to respond, her body overcome with laughter so hard she was inaudible. Concerned that Y/N had knocked herself out cold, Darcy peeked her head around the corner of Y/N’s doorway, to find her hurled over, a hand over her left eye, drops of crimson blood on the ground.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Y/N lifted her head, calming down from her fit of laughter, and nodded.

“Yeah, of course, this would happen to me,” she replied chuckling, taking a tissue from Darcy to put pressure on her cut.

Carefully making her way to a mirror, Y/N grabbed her phone on the way. She stared at her reflection and slowly removed the tissue from her face to examine the extent of her injury. It was steadily bleeding, most likely a bad sign. Y/N placed her tissue back over her cut and reached for her phone and Facetimed her friend Matt, an EMT.

“Hello- What the fuck happened to you?”

“Hi Matt,” she replied, shooting him a grin through the screen. “Slammed my head against the wall, by accident.”

“I would hope so,” he sighed. “Let me guess, you’re wondering whether you should go to the ER or not?”

“You know me so well, Matty.”

“Has it stopped bleeding?” Y/N removed the tissue and felt a warm liquid trail down the side of her face.

“No.”

“Go to the ER, please.” She groaned.

If there was one place in the world she despised, it was a hospital. But Y/N knew she wouldn’t be able to convince either of her friends otherwise, and dragged her feet as she reluctantly followed Darcy to her car.

It was a normal night in the ER, which meant a fury of organized chaos. Bucky found himself needed in 6 places, all at the same time. But this was an environment that he had become accustomed to, almost finding comfort in the madness of it all. Although the ER was bustling with patients, there weren’t any injuries that were very severe, mostly just broken bones and lacerations. Simple enough to the point where Bucky felt like he was operating on autopilot mode. Going through the motions of whatever task he needed to do, but not anything more than that. He felt numb. For the last several years of his life, the hospital was all that he knew. Bucky kept himself busy with work, leaving him with only a small social circle and his cat, Alpine. It was enough for him, but he never really felt complete. Which is why he threw himself into his work, drowning out his inner thoughts about a missing piece he never thought he’d find.

“Dr. Barnes, paging Dr. Barnes to bed 25.”

Bucky took a quick sip of his coffee and sighed before heading off to see his next patient. Wanda appeared from around the corner and started walking with him.

“This one’s a simple laceration, just might need stitches.” Bucky nodded in response to her, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

She was one of the select few who he considered a friend. Which was a little odd considering he was an attending and she was only a resident. But she was a good student, a fast learner, and one of the only residents he was ever willing to work with. He took her under his wing, fostering a friendship by spending time together in his office, reviewing various medical cases and files.

“Alright, you up to do them?”

Wanda came to a halt, Bucky taking a couple steps before looking back at her, tilting his head, waiting for a response.

“Y-Yeah, yes!” She stammered. “T-thank you, Dr. Barnes.” He nodded his head and turned back around to continue walking, Wanda close behind.

Y/N was sat on the edge of the bed, one hand holding a blood-soaked tissue over her left eye. Her leg was bouncing, a nervous tic she had developed from a young age. The adrenaline had worn off, forcing her to feel a throbbing pain, her eyes brimming with tears. She avoided crying in front of people whenever possible, so as soon as Darcy left to grab some coffee and snacks from the cafeteria, she let the floodgates open. The sound of footsteps approaching made her freeze and she used her sleeves to sloppily wipe away the tears that were streaming down her face.

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

A firm, but somehow also gentle, voice called out to her before the curtain was pulled open to reveal a tall man with dark brown hair, a stubbly beard, and stunningly blue eyes standing next to a woman with blazing red hair and contrasting green eyes. Y/N’s gaze was immediately fixated on the man’s eyes, unable to look away for a moment, before she realized she was staring. She quickly looked down and cleared her throat.

“Y/N, you can just call me Y/N.”

The man nodded and set down his clipboard at the end of the bed before speaking.

“I’m Dr. Barnes and this is Dr. Maximoff.” The woman gave a slight wave as she began charting on a computer. “Can I take a look at your eye?”

Y/N nodded, feeling her anxiety rise as the doctor pulled some gloves on and approached her.

He pulled over a stool to sit on and carefully removed the tissue that Y/N had been holding in place to assess the injury. While Bucky looked at her cut, he stole a glance to study the rest of her face. He couldn't help but take note of the pained look on her face, her eyes still watery and her button nose red from crying. It was the first time in a long time that he felt a twinge of pain while looking at someone's injury, that he felt practically anything at all during a shift. She felt his warm breaths on her face for a moment before he pulled away and replaced her bloody tissue with some gauze.

“Do you mind if she takes a look as well?” Y/N nodded again. Bucky got up from the stool, allowing Wanda to take his spot and assess her eye.

“So it looks like you just need 2 or 3 stitches, very simple procedure.”

Y/N felt her entire body tense up at Wanda's conclusion. She could barely stand sitting in a hospital bed alone and now she was about to get poked and prodded with needles. Bucky noticed and attempted to ease her worries.

"We'll administer a numbing agent, so you won't feel any pain, just pressure at the site."

She looked up at Bucky, who had a kind, tired expression on his face. It looked like he was having a long night and she didn't want to make his job any more difficult than it probably already was. Y/N gave him a small nod and Wanda started to gather the necessary supplies.

She laid back in bed with Wanda and Bucky sitting next to each other on her left. Her hands were folded on her stomach, eyes shut.

"You're gonna feel a slight pinch, okay?" She nodded and bit her lip to try and distract herself.

Wanda proceeded to administer the numbing shot and Y/N squeezed her hands tight, whimpering in pain. Bucky observed the pained expression on her face and placed a hand on her forearm, reflexively rubbing his thumb in small circles. When Wanda pulled the needle out, Y/N slowly fluttered her eyes open and was greeted by Bucky's warm smile. A blush crept to her cheeks and she turned her attention to the ceiling. Immediately, Bucky realized how unprofessional his action was and removed his hand. He had no idea what had come over him, but he'd never felt so drawn to someone like this before.

"Now I'm going to do the stitches, okay? You should just feel a slight pressure." Just as before, Y/N shut her eyes after Wanda spoke and gripped her hands tight. She felt the pressure that Wanda was talking about and couldn't help but squirm at the feeling. Another wave of anxiety rushed over her and she felt herself start to hyperventilate.

Wanda removed the needle and quickly turned to Bucky, a panicked look on her face. He gave her a reassuring look before speaking softly.

"Y/N? Do you think you could hold still for just a little longer?" She opened her eyes, brimming with tears.

"Sorry, I just, I hate needles." Y/N fiddled with her hands as she kept her gaze up, trying to avoid the tears from escaping. Bucky felt his heart sink in his chest at the sight.

"What do you think would help you relax?"

Thoughts ran through her head as she tried to find a solution to relieve her anxiety. Y/N thought back to when she was young and chuckled, remembering a stuffed whale that she got at an aquarium, that went everywhere with her.

"This is stupid but, when I was a kid, I would carry around this stuffed animal around and it helped to hold it whenever I had to get shots."

Bucky thought for a moment and ran a hand through his hair, wondering if he was going to regret the words about to leave his mouth.

"You could hold my hand."

Y/N and Wanda both looked at him with surprised expressions, regret instantly hitting him.

"If you're comfortable with it," he quickly clarified. Y/N felt the corner of her mouth curve into a smile as she nodded.

She laid back down and Bucky took her hand in his. The instant transfer of heat soothed Y/N and she shut her eyes to allow Wanda to get to work.

When she felt the pressure on her eye again, her hand automatically gripped Bucky's tighter, and he squeezed it back to help calm her. Y/N focused on the callousness of his hands, how his hand seemed to fit into hers perfectly. Suddenly, she was thinking about his eyes again, those glimmering blue eyes. Blue was always a calming color for her, reminiscent of her trip to the aquarium where she got her beloved stuffed whale. As she felt Bucky's thumb gently rub the top of her hand, she realized that her whale could never provide as much comfort as he did.

Bucky felt a sense of pride as he watched the tension in Y/N's face disappear. Suddenly, he found his eyes wandering, looking at the loose strands of hair on the right side of her face, the rosiness of her cheeks, how she glowed. His heart started to palpate and Bucky realized a flame had kindled inside him. He was feeling again.

"All done!" Wanda chirped, stepping aside to let Bucky check her work. He smiled at her patted her on the back with his free hand.

"You did good." Wanda beamed and thanked him, walking away to complete her charting.

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, still feeling the warmth of Bucky's hand in hers. He greeted her with a tender smile and slowly helped her up, placing his other hand on the small of her back.

"See? Wasn't that bad after all," he grinned, releasing her hand. Y/N's smile faltered, missing his touch, and nodded.

"Thank you, Dr. Barnes."

"Bucky," he stated. She raised an eyebrow. "Call me Bucky."

The pair stared at each other in silence, enjoying each other's presence before the PA system snapped them both out of their trance.

"Dr. Barnes, paging Dr. Barnes to bed 16."

Bucky sighed, slowly getting up from his seat.

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N."

"You too, Bucky."

He turned around and was about to pull the curtain open when he paused, turning back around to face Y/N, scratching the back of his head. It took one look at her face and Bucky knew he didn't want to let her go just yet.

"Would you like to get coffee sometime?" She beamed up at him and Bucky felt his knees go weak.

"I would like that very much." He chuckled in disbelief and smiled.

Bucky had finally found his missing piece.

[dancingamongstdust]

MHA Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 4)

Requests are still open as of this post.

Shigaraki

You hadn’t meant to cause that level of destruction. It was an accident.

But they hadn’t seen it that way.

Their words followed you even when they could not. You could hear the accusations ringing in your head whenever you used your quirk – for better, or for worse. It became easier to ignore as you slowly learned to stop caring.

Until your quirk went out of control again.

You woke up in a dark room with a pounding headache and exhausted limbs. The doctor who was looking after you (a man you were relatively certain had no actual medical knowledge) had gotten very close and asked how much you remembered. When you informed him that it wasn’t much, he had smiled.

“Well, you certainly drew attention to yourself,” he had laughed. “Perhaps you should consider yourself lucky that the heroes didn’t get to you first.”

“I guess so…”

Something warned you that this situation was more dangerous than it seemed. Your eyes drifted over the covered windows of the room and you stared at the door. “Why did you help me?”

“Well that’s hardly for me –“

He didn’t get a chance to answer before you dashed for the exit. The doctor’s quirk didn’t allow him to grab you and his alarmed shout was all you heard before you were darting down the hallway. You weren’t going to stick around and get experimented on.

You turned the corner, heart pounding in your chest. They must have given you something because you felt drowsy. The entire world was spinning.

But you had to nearly trip yourself up to avoid running directly into somebody as you sprinted down a different hallway.

This was hardly your first time dealing with villains and many of them had odd quirks, to say the least. It shouldn’t have shocked you to see somebody with a human hand on their face but maybe the medication was lowering your tolerance because it was terrifying.

“Who are you?” you snapped out, immediately on the defense. You took a step away, ready to run or fight, whichever seemed easiest.

The man didn’t seem too bothered by your snap at least; the one eye that you could see watched you steadily from behind his hand mask. “I’m sure you’re not meant to be running around here,” he said. “But you’re no hero so you must be here for your quirk. Do you still have it?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

It wasn’t unknown in the underground that there was a man who stole quirks he liked. Nobody knew what he did with them but it wasn’t unheard of for villains to wake up with nothing. And you would never get them back.

You could feel your quirk was still there. It pulsed under your skin like a warning.

“My quirk?” you repeated. “I have my quirk.”

You did a random gesture, summoning all of your past acting experience to appear horrified when nothing happened. Again and again you tried before looking around in shock and horror.

The guy bought it and he shrugged. “Then there’s no reason to stop you.” He brushed past you and continued walking. “Not like you could find the exit anyway.”

The moment he turned the corner, you dropped the act and bolted again. This place was a maze but you found the exit and avoided any encounters with a practiced ease. Before leaving, you looked back up at the building and grimaced, hoping to never see it again.

Toga

It was late at night when you had the strangest encounter of your life. Not that that was a bad thing necessarily but it was something that occurred, nevertheless.

You had been feeling quite exhausted from a long day of fun with your friends. They had headed off to get a cab when you had realised that you needed the bathroom and disappeared to go find one.

There was a public toilet not too far from the street though it certainly wasn’t as clean as you would have hoped. Not to be deterred, you slipped in and found a sight that, even to your exhausted mind was uncomfortable.

A girl stood in front of one of the mirrors, blood staining much of her face. It covered the counter beneath her fingers and seemed to be coming from her lip.

“Are you okay?!” you asked, panicked.

She looked up at you, startled. Her dark hair covered much of her expression but she seemed a little out of it. Maybe she got hit on the head or something.

“I –“ she paused, her voice croaky and sore. She brought her hand up to rub her throat. “I think so.”

“Just wait, let me help you,” you said. You rushed into one of the stalls and gathered up some toilet paper. “Do you need me to call somebody or?”

“No,” she said quickly. “No. Thank you.”

You offered some of the damp tissue to her and she started wiping it away from her mouth. While she dealt with that, you cleaned the blood that she had left on the counter, making sure to get it out of all the cracks in and around the sink. “What happened to you?” you asked. “Did somebody attack you?”

“I slipped,” she said. “The tiles are really slippery and I think that I hit my mouth on the sink. It’s all kind of blurry.”

“Don’t worry,” you said, digging through your bag and grabbing some headache tablets. You offered the bottle to her. “Take two of those just in case. Even if it doesn’t hurt now, you don’t want to wake up with a headache tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Do I still have any blood on me?”

“Just on your jaw,” you pointed out. “Come on, my friends and I are getting a cab. We can call one for you also if you need.”

She took one last glance in the mirror before leaving. You had forgotten your own need for the bathroom and it was for good reason also. If you had hung around for a little longer, you may have seen blood trickling out from one of the stalls. Perhaps then you wouldn’t have been so worried about this stranger hitting her head.

“What’s your name?” you asked as you looked around for your friends.

“Toga,” the girl said, though she didn’t seem too happy with having told you. The words must have slipped out without her meaning to.

You gave her your own name and went up onto your toes to look around the crowd for your friends. Eventually you spotted them and waved but when you spoke to Toga, she didn’t respond.

She had disappeared into the crowd.

You went back into the bathroom and checked but she was long gone. Just like how the blood has escaped your notice earlier, you didn’t see the blonde watching you from the other side of the street, her head tilted a little.

Dabi

It was a rare day when you found yourself alone without at least one person to watch your back. You didn’t always need the protection but sometimes, it was nice to have.

But you had given your word and it wouldn’t do to back out of this now.

The building where everything had been organised was old and crumbling – its ancient nature hidden on the outskirts of the city and slowly becoming overtaken by countless plants. It wasn’t somewhere anybody with good intentions would find themselves.

You liked to think that your work was good. It benefitted many and took only from those who could afford to lose it. Unfortunately though, rules had to be broken for the best results, and sometimes what was classified as ‘wrong’ turned out to be needed in order to achieve a goal. It wasn’t quite in line with what you believed but it had to be done.

Did working with villains make you uncomfortable? Of course. But it was hardly going to be something that stopped you from moving forward.

The two members from the League of Villains that had been sent to meet you were both men. You didn’t bother with greetings, just holding up the briefcase that you held.

“I’m looking for a specific artwork,” you said. “I’ve been told that you might be able to help?”

“An artwork?” the one asked. He wore a white and black mask that concealed most of his face and an extremely gaudy costume.

“Not just an artwork,” you explained. “It has something of mine hidden in the canvas. Normally, I would just get the police involved but if they found it, it would be quite problematic for me. The group that stole it won’t listen to many but the League of Villains, I’m afraid. They have a few good quirks and they’re extremely cocky for it.”

“We’re not lapdogs,” the other man said. “Especially not for whatever agenda you’re pushing.”

“I don’t pay lapdogs,” you acknowledged. “Consider me a sponsor.”

Flames cackled into existence in his hand, surprising his colleague enough to jump a little. “Chances are, they’ve already found your thing. Even if they haven’t, the league can hardly go around picking fights with random gangs.”

“Shigaraki did ask –“

The masked man was cut off by a glare. Blue flames sent flickering light through the air as they waited patiently for your answer.

“If it’s already been discovered or if it happens to get damaged during the process, then I don’t plan on getting anything out of our deal. It’ll simply be a loss on my side.”

The flames slowly flickered out and you allowed yourself to breathe again. Confidence was a requirement for these deals but you didn’t quite have the nerves of steel that you portrayed. It was always a fight to keep your reactions in check.

“I guess if we happen to bump into the group, we can check around for your shit.”

You knew his bluff as well as your own. The League of Villains had always worked well with those who had money. They required funding and wouldn’t say no to being able to flex their reputation around the underground. It was almost needed with the way rumours were circulating.

It was less than a week after that encounter when you found your artwork sitting outside your home. Charred on the edges, it was damaged enough to make the art itself worthless. But your items inside were perfectly unharmed.

Not bad for your first time working alongside the League of Villains. It was worth the cost… you should do it more in the future.

Twice

When you had been called in for this job, you had no idea that it was going to turn into a fight of the magnitude you experienced.

Flames tore along the streets. They melted lamps and trapped hundreds inside buildings – the screams for help becoming almost deafening as you broke down yet another wall to get civilians out. It was the third building you had had to smash into and there were more yet.

Nobody could get out and, if they remained trapped, they wouldn’t survive much longer.

When your partner and you had realised you were dealing with the League of Villains, you had immediately called in the big guns. What you hadn’t realised was that doing so would result in a brawl of sorts in the streets. The League of Villains didn’t care about collateral and honestly, sometimes you wondered if the heroes did.

You were starting to overheat. The amount of fire swirling around was getting to you, drawing the breath from your lungs and slowing your movements. Its angry blue nature hinted at its abysmal nature.

The next building’s walls took even longer to get through but you managed it and a few people scrambled out. You ushed as best as you could although it was starting to get hard to speak.

But then you noticed a dark figure lying in one of the rooms

Outside, the fire roared and smacked against the walls but you couldn’t just leave somebody there. You stepped over the rubble and made your way to the figure.

It was hard to make out details with the flames. The heat seemed to be getting worse as you approached – soon identified as being caused by the gaping hole in the wall. It radiated around the room in waves. You covered your mouth and nose the best you could, creeping forward to reach where the person was.

When you arrived, it took you no time to recognise that you weren’t saving an unfortunate civilian but rather a member of the League itself.

You hesitated for a second before hooking your arms under his and beginning to drag him away from the danger. This was the type of thing that lost reputation for heroes. Civilians didn’t like seeing villains being rescued but you honestly didn’t care.

If he was left there, he was probably going to end up dying.

Though he had seemed unconscious, when you got him out of the building, he muttered something and moved. It was enough to make you jump back but he didn’t attack or anything. He just touched his face and then let his arm go limp again.

You moved back cautiously. His suit had been ripped on the one side, missing its arm and half of the torso. You checked his pulse, relieved to feel that it was still going, even if it was unsteady.

“Can you hear me?” you asked.

He didn’t respond and you reached up to remove his mask. His hand immediately snapped up to grab your wrist and you prepared to activate your quirk but all he did was push your arm away from his face.

Alright then. No touching the mask.

You bandaged the open wound on his side as best as you could. It looked like he had gotten launched through the building. Once he was as stable as he could be, you moved him to a safer area and jumped back into the fray. A ton of rescues later and the heroes had won, at the destruction of much property.

And, rather unsurprisingly, the villain you had saved was long gone.

Overhaul

There was a new drug running around the market. You had heard of a number of small-time villains taking it – most of them dying shortly after consumption. It wasn’t unheard of. If something had even the promise of a good time then it would attract thousands.

But what was a problem was that you had lost several of your newest underlings as a direct result of this drug.

Given how picky you were about hiring, this was going to be a problem.

You tracked the source to none other than the Shie Hassaikai. They were an old branch of the yakuza, sitting on the edge of a downward spiral into irrelevance. Rumors followed that their boss had fallen quite ill and now, it was only a matter of time until they fell completely on their faces.

So you didn’t feel too nervous when you approached the house that fronted their main base. Even with the members watching you from the bushes, you kept a straight line.

You weren’t unknown. It would do them a great disservice to attack you.

And they knew it.

You walked in the front door with absolutely no resistance and remained unsurprised when two masked men came out to greet you. They didn’t ask about your business or enquire as to who you were. Instead, they led you into a sitting room and gestured for you take a seat.

Instead of that, you walked around the room and picked up everything that looked interesting. Nothing was hidden around but you hadn’t expected there to be.

“Please don’t touch things without gloves on,” a smooth voice interrupted your curiosity. “Cleaning this entire house is rarely needed and I’d rather you didn’t change that.”

You turned around to find somebody considerably younger than you had expected for the head of the Shie Hassaikai. He wore their signature mask and a feathered coat, almost his entire body hidden in some way.

“Not a fan of germs?” you enquired.

“Not at all.”

You shrugged and made your way to the couch, sinking down into it. “Guess that means no drinks or anything? Oh well, that’s too bad.” You gestured for him to sit.  “So, you’re not who I was expecting.”

“You’ve never worked with our organisation before,” he said, sitting on the edge of the chair opposite you.

“No. You’re not in the same line of work as me and I don’t care too much about the Yakuza.”

“Then why are you here?”

You straightened, aware that you were about to get into the most dangerous part of the meeting. “Your drugs have been getting into my areas. Now, I don’t care all too much about how you distribute stock but it’s not just coming into possession of low-life criminals. My men are getting practically gifted it.”

His eyes narrowed. “We need to test it somehow. Besides, that sounds like a problem for you, no? Have better control of your men.”

“Keep your test tube shit out of my territories.”

A small staring contest took place – a test to see who would break first. You had been in almost a hundred of these over the course of your career. They didn’t bother you much at all in anymore.

Eventually he waved his hand through the air. “I guess we could stop supply to traders in your areas but this isn’t a charity.”

“I could kill your men.”

“But you would lose your own in the process. Wouldn’t it be easier to do this the peaceful way and maybe even establish a relationship between our two groups?”

“You have my attention. Don’t waste it.”

Kurogiri

There are those days when everything begins so well only to rapidly spiral into a situation out of your worst dreams. This was something like that.

You had gotten horribly caught in the crossfire of a battle between heroes and villains. It all occurred faster than you could have ever imagined – flashes of light and explosions of sound. People were screaming, the sound coming through a haze as you tried to get a grasp on what had happened.

Blood was trickling down your arm but you felt no pain. You slowly lifted your head. Something had hit you, you remembered that now as your brain caught up to the dull ache coming from your ribcage.

You tried to move, finding that you couldn’t. The ache became worse and a heavy, scraping sound interrupted your attempts to crawl away.

It was a piece of concrete, heavy and painful, pinning you effectively to the ground. A smaller chunk was holding it up and stopping you from being crushed. But if you moved too much…

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, nearly choking on the dust that filled the air. Maybe if you shifted slowly.

A crunching noise made you hiccup.

Alright, so that wasn’t going to work either. You strained your eyes to see through the carnage but you couldn’t make out any heroes. They would come eventually; you just had to wait patiently and try not to move too much.

The concrete seemed to get heavier still and you fought the desire to cry.

There was a crunching sound. You couldn’t just wait around.

Slow as you dared, you began to inch forward. The rough surface snagged at your clothing and made every centimeter feel like it was going to end with you crushed. Worse still, the more you moved, the more apparent the injury on your back became.

The blood that had been trickling down your arm was now creeping along your torso. It pooled in your clothes and made everything sticky.

You tried not to think about it but it made you light-headed regardless.

About half-way out, you spotted somebody nearby. It was just their silhouette but still, relief flooded your veins and you cried out desperately for help.

The figure made its way over to you, soon revealing that the man was almost entirely made of smoke. He wore a suit and tie but his body swirled as though only somewhat solid. Bright yellow eyes stared at you – any emotion behind them was completely unreadable.

His eyes traced your shape. “You’re not who I’m looking for.”

“Please help me. This thing’s going to crush me.”

He paused, the swirling darkness that made up his face shuddered as though it was unsure how to respond. “I should leave you here,” he mentioned. “You’re of no consequence to me or to my cause. If anything, I should add pressure to the piece of rubble and make sure the fatality numbers are higher.”

You caught of whimper before it could escape. “Please.”

His smoke shook again, almost as though he was struggling to keep hold of it. Then he raised a foot and placed it on the concrete.

You screwed your eyes shut and tried to imagine the best parts of life.

A loud horn blaring made you open them again and a surprised yelp escaped as you saw tires race past in front of you. People were shouting, their voices loud and nearby. Bright lights surrounded you and the air was clear once more.

The last thing you remembered seeing was a panicked nurse rushing over to you.

[reidyoulikeabook]

Sometimes You Just Don’t Know the Answer

4 times you don’t know the answer, and the 1 time you do

This is the 2nd part to Personal Google! (You don’t have to read it to understand this, but it exists if you want to).

Ship: BAU!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: You’d call yourself a pretty educated individual, and most people wouldn’t argue with that, given that you’re a member of the BAU at Quantico. There’s just something about your best friend Spencer Reid that gets you all tongue tied.

Warnings: Mentions of cases and case-typical violence, mentions of alcohol, Spencer and Reader being idiots again.

Word count: 3k

A/N: The feedback (in asks and the tag reblogs) for Personal Google was so lovely and encouraging and I am very grateful for it! I only made this account a few days ago and I’m already so glad I did :) I hope this is a satisfactory second part and, requests are open!

(This is the Reid I’m imagining here)

“What is up with you and Reid?” Emily’s volume is unmoderated at the best of times but right now it’s like she’s trying to alert the entirety of Virginia to your dating woes.

Dating woes might be a stretch, actually. Somehow, just her implication that something is happening between you and Spencer (even though it isn’t, unless you count two exhausted idiots falling asleep on each other and being too bashful to ever mention it again), is enough to get you feeling uncharacteristically shy.

“Nothing,” you shrug, “Well. I don’t know, honestly, nothing I guess? We haven’t spoken about that night.”

Emily’s eyes rake over you, and you can tell she’s waiting for you to continue.

“There’s nothing!” you object, “We just, it was accidental, we fell asleep because we were watching a documentary and we were tired and neither of us fell asleep on purpose.”

She laughs, dry and amused, “At this rate, you’ll be lucky to have sorted things out before you’re 50.”

You scowl, but it’s only because you know she’s right.

***

You don’t have much time to think about your situation with Spencer for a few weeks, considering the rate at which the cases come rolling in. This newest one arrives within about two days of the last one you’d just wrapped up. It’s actually kind of rude, you’ve decided, that the serial killers of America have decided to deny you two weekends in a row.

You’re briefed on the case quickly: four women have gone missing over the past 7 months from a small town in Ohio. There’s no distinct pattern that can be discerned among the victims, the oldest is 60 and white, the youngest is 23 and Asian-American. However, the first three have been found dead in the past two weeks, all within a mile of each other and all killed with the same MO: ligature strangulation.

“So we have no idea how he’s choosing them,” you say.

“No,” Hotch replies, with a sigh.

Meaning that this is probably going to take a while. Spencer senses the way you tense up a little as you absorb that fact. So he goes out of his way to sit next to you on the plane. Once the discussion about the case is done, he nudges you gently, “Did you bring a book?”

You shake your head, “I finished the one in my go-bag. Didn’t have a chance to replace it.”

“Would you like to read this with me?”

You place your hand on his wrist, gently turning it so you can see the cover, “Spencer this is written in Greek.”

“I can translate,” he says.

You move closer to him then, your head resting just against his plane seat and your chin almost jutting against his shoulder.

“Is this okay?”

He nods. The remaining 45 minutes of the flight are spent with him reading to you softly, adding in his own thoughts as he translates and sometimes going off on little tangents. By the time you land you’ve entirely forgotten about your ire with the case. You’re focused only on the characters he introduces you to, who are clearly in love even if they’re too stupid to see it, and the way his nose crinkles a little when he reaches a word with no direct English translation.

Whhat you don’t realise, is that you end up folding into him: head pressed against his chest. Somehow, neither of you notice how you naturally gravitate towards each other. Some pair of profilers.

--

Hotch sends you in different cars to the precinct, and you’re soon reminded of your frustration as you’re caught up in the hub-a-bub of the case. It’s not until you’re leaving the station, after a long and relatively fruitless briefing with the medical examiners and local PD, that you even have time to acknowledge Spencer properly again.

And even then, it’s only when Hotch says.

"You'll be sharing a room with Reid, alright?"

He’s only really asking as a formality. Nobody questions Hotch’s assignments for them. So why, then, do you feel yourself flush a little.

Why then, do you feel so embarassed replying, “Alright.”

***

There was nothing much to be nervous about with sharing a room, as it so happened. The past day and a half had been a whirlwind since the unsub had snatched a fifth victim. You’d been sleeping in shifts, making sure that some of you were awake at all times to keep working.

You were working on the geographical profile with Spencer, and had taken to driving around to look for landmarks at night, when there was nothing much else to do. There were maps but sometimes it helped just to get things embedded in your brain. And now, at 4am, you’re bursting into the conference room occupied by Spencer and Rossi, because you might just have got something.

"I have an idea,” you say, and before anybody can even respond you’re scribbling hurriedly on the whiteboard.

“Slow down kiddo,” Rossi laughs.

“Sorry I’m just,” you cut yourself off, slightly flustered and tapping your foot with frustration as you try to put the last pieces of it together, “Diana Matthews.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds.

“She was the one who lived on Lakefield right?” Rossi asks.

Annoyingly, you can’t remember off rote. Spencer sees the pinch of frustration in your brow. He senses that you’re heading for the case file.

So, he answers, “Yeah 38 Lakefield Drive.”

Smiling gratefully at him, you breathe a sigh of relief, “There’s three different stores in the area for this local electronic repair company, Gladston Digital, in this area. Two of them aren’t accounted for on the maps because these are from last year, and one of the ones on Google is pinned to the wrong street, there are two Minister Avenues and one’s on the complete opposite side of town.”

Denoting the map with annotations as you go, you continue, “All of the victims had residences within a mile of one of the three stores. And we interviewed the area manager, Paul something, he manages all three stores. He came to speak to me and Hotch while we were scoping the area.”

“Inserting himself into the investigation,” Rossi notes, “Fits the profile. A stalker like that would want to remain an illusion of control.”

“I just need to get Garcia on the phone to see if it checks out.”

Spencer just watches, slightly in awe, as you make the phone call to Garcia. She manages to cross-reference bank statements and emails, showing that all five of the victims had taken something of theirs in for repair sometime in the year before their disappearance. And he feels something in his gut. Pride? Maybe. That’s certainly a part of it.

But there’s something else in there too. Your eyes meet his, with a flicker of recognition. He realises what it is then: marvel. Your brain works so fast, and that’s not novel to him, he knows you’re intelligent but there’s just something about how fast you manage to put it all together. You conjure something out of nothing, a link that he’d missed. And he’s reminded, again, that he has to try and keep up with you sometimes. He wonders if you know that.

Probably not, he thinks. You’re rambling down the phone and gesturing with your hands, in a way you may or may not have picked up from him, and all he can think is how you look so in your element. And beautiful.

He’s a little embarassed about how normal it feels for that last observation to pop into his head.

***

“To _____!” Prentiss cheers.

8pm has rolled around. Since your revelation 16 hours earlier, you managed to confirm your thinking, apprehend Paul Bader, and save the fifth victim. All in all, a pretty good days work. It’s not just down to you, but everyone’s singing your praises so loudly it’s making you a little embarassed.

Even Hotch sets a drink down in front of you, squeezing your shoulder, “Really good work today ____.”

Fair to say you’ve probably peaked there.

Spencer is sat to your left, sipping at a Mai Tai that you know is going to have him giggly in about an hours time.

“I wasn’t trying to keep you out before,” you tell him, “I was going to come and wake you up when I got back but you were in the conference room.”

He smiles, “I know. It was my shift to sleep.”

“Bet you’re paying for that now.”

“A little,” he chuckles, “It’s worth it.”

"I just didn’t want you to think I was hanging you out to dry. You know, to make myself look good,” you decide to press further: mostly just because the team has sung your praises and that kind of attention makes you shirk at the best of times. Let alone when you’re sat with the guy responsible for creating half the damn profile.

His eyebrows furrow. You worry for a minute about what he’s going to say, but then, “I would never think that about you. We’re a team.”

He squeezes your hand. Maybe that’s your favourite thing about Spencer, really. More than the fact he remembers to get your caffeine just how you like it, more than how gentle he is with just about everybody he encounters, more than his relentless enthusiasm for your questions about whatever pops into your mind. No, it’s his modesty. The way he doesn’t even think for a moment to be prideful or arrogant about his intelligence. He genuinely roots for you in every moment, you think.

“Are you okay?” he asks, “You seem a little..quiet.”

It wasn’t until he mentioned it that you realise you’d let your thoughts run away with you, “No. I’m good. Just thinking about how good of a teacher you are.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I think so. You’ve taught me. I didn’t know the first thing about geographical profiling when I got here two years ago. I could barely read a map,” you laugh, keeping your tone sincere, “You’re a really good teacher Spence. I feel like I learn so much from just being around you.”

“I often don’t give you much choice.”

You smile, “I wouldn’t want you to. Really. I’m always interested in everything you have to say. I think you know that. But I wanted to tell you anyway. So you’re sure.”

He’s incredibly grateful you get pulled into a conversation by Morgan, giving him a moment to process.

A lifetime of being insecure. Of feeling like nobody was interested in what he had to say but not being able to really control whether he said it anyway. All this time being insecure in himself, and you liked it. Complimented him on it, even. Considered him a teacher. He doesn’t think he could articulate, in any of the languages he speaks, the sense of peace that brings him.

-----

The Mai Tai’s do make him sleepy. Buzzed, but sleepy. After being bought rounds by Hotch, Morgan, and Spencer, you’re feeling exactly the same. It’s only 10:30pm by the time you decide to make your departure for the night. This is much to the chagrin of Emily, who lolls against Rossi’s side demanding that you stay.

“Some of us have been up since 4 this morning, breaking their backs to keep this country safe,” You tease, putting on a melodramatic air just for affect, “Besides, you’re going to regret this when you have to be up and back on the jet in the morning.”

“You will, especially since you still owe me that report,” Hotch teases, with a smile.

Emily rolls her eyes, “You two are no fun.”

She’s joking, goading you, but unfortunately for her you have a sleepy Spencer nuzzling against you which is a far more pressing matter to deal with.

“Come on Spence, let’s get you to bed,” You say, gently wiggling out from under him and offering him your hand.

He pouts at the momentary loss of contact. It’s subtle. You catch it though. He links his fingers through your own, holding your hand properly, and you try not to read into it too much. He’s tipsy. He’s tired.

Ignoring the deliberately obvious eyebrow-wiggling from Morgan, you make for the lift.

“You didn’t have to come to bed just for me,” Spencer says, “I feel bad for taking you away from the others. I’m not that drunk, I could get myself to bed.”

You shake your head, “I wanted to go to bed with you.”

His eyes snap to you, a grin playing on his lips.

“I mean, I wanted to go to bed. And we’re sharing a room. So I’m going to bed with you. As in we’re going to the place where bed is, together.”

He’s just enough tipsy to be confident enough to jest, “Sure.”

You roll your eyes, “You sound like Morgan.”

“What did Morgan say?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what Morgan always says whenever anybody goes off together.”

“That they’re having sex,” He giggles, tipsiness shining through again.

“Yes, Spence, that they’re having sex.”

“But we’re not.”

The elevator dings as you arrive at your floor, saving your brain from delving into the implications of what he’s just said. And whether that was a disappointed or netural tone.

He hasn’t let go of your hand. He walks to the door with you, still keeping your hand in his. It’s hard not to let yourself read into it now. How holding hands with him could be such a casual thing. Hard not to imagine walking through bookshops with him, one hand in yours and the other picking books off the shelf he thought you’d like. The domesticity of it sickens you.

Then he lets go to cross to the bed.

“Aren’t you gonna put your pyjama’s on?” You ask.

“I wasn’t gonna sleep yet,” he says, “I was gonna...”

He looks bashful, suddenly, self-consciously licking his lower lip, “I was gonna ask if maybe you wanted to watch something with me. You can pick. I always pick.”

“This an excuse to get me in bed with you again, Spence?” You tease, just past tipsy enough not to care that this is the first time you’ve even acknowledged that night.

"Yeah, the Pearl Harbour ruse doesn’t work twice,” he jokes.

You wish you could find the courage to tease him more. Unfortunately, the liquid courage seems to have run out, and the topic somehow feels too delicate to touch.. Instead, you change quickly into your pyjama’s. Together, you pick something to watch, settling down. You’re suddenly thankful for the single bed, the necessity to be cozied up against him as you watch. To feel his chest, every beat of his heart. You swear it’s beating fast. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

***

Just like last time, you wake up huddled against Spencer. Unlike last time, there’s no Emily banging the door down to drag you to the police station. No, it’s quiet.

You can’t see what time it is because there’s a Spencer between you and the clock. Your phone is in your back pocket but it’s hard to find any motivation whatsoever to move when you’re like this: face pressed into his chest, his head resting atop of yours so a single curl of his hair tickles your nose, his hand on your hip holding you against him.  

His eyelashes flutter, “Are you awake?”

“Yeah. I just woke up.”

He smiles, “Me too.”

“Looks like we did it again.”

“Looks like we did,” his voice is quiet.

“Do you want me to move? If I’m...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

His free hand comes up to your chin, tipping it so you’re looking him directly in the eyes. His pupils are dilated. In the dim light it’s hard to place the look on his face exactly. But it’s soft.

"C-Can I kiss you?” the question spills quickly from his lips, like he’s afraid he’ll change his mind if he doesn’t get it out fast, “I just. I don’t know if that’s what you want too, I’ve just really-”

"Kiss me, Spence. Please kiss me.”

The smile on his face would have made you fall in love with him, if you weren’t already. And then he kisses you. Barely. Your lips are just grazing against one anothers. You tilt yourself upwards, towards him, giving him a better angle. Then he really kisses you, capturing your lips in his. It’s sweet, it’s soft, it’s...it’s everything. It’s everything, how his hands tangle themselves tentatively in your hair, how he kisses you so deeply, drinking you in.

His hand cups your cheek, then he’s pulling back, just a tiny bit, to mumble against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

The only appropriate way you can think to verbalise your agreement, is closing the gap between your lips again. There’s an urgency to it this time. Your lips move quickly, passionately. He swipes his tongue across your lower lip and you let him in, your tongues delicately dancing together. He’s good. He’s good and you don’t even notice the morning breath or faint taste of rum, it’s just Spencer.

When you finally come apart, you’re out of breath.

“I didn’t think you’d ever do that,” you say, “I was worried I was reading this whole thing wrong.”

He frowns then, that little nose crinkle appearing again, “I thought I was too obvious.”

“So did I. Maybe it’s best if we don’t tell Hotch how bad we are at profiling each other. He might rethink his decision to take us on.”

He laughs, “Not being able to profile when somebody’s in love with you might be a cause for concern. There are several obvious phyical signs of love, including dilation of pupils when looking at the object of your affection, heart rate synchronisation.”

“How am I supposed to know if our heart rates have synchronised?”

He smiles. Pressing a finger to your lips, he dips his head in the small chasm between your two chests. In the silence, in the early morning quiet, in the absence of all distraction you can hear it. The steady thrum of your hearts, pounding away at identical paces. The sound that told you that some part of you had always known.

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

Tagslist: @takeyourleap-of-faith​​ @sassiest-politician​​ (let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from this list)

[luvluvnitrodynamite]

jealous jujutsu kaisen characters <3

ft. itadori yuuji, gojou satoru g/n!reader (sfw, with some suggestive themes in gojou)

itadori yuuji - watching itadori get jealous is a bit cute, if you're being honest. i mean, take what happened in the grocery store yesterday. ~ "yuuji, we're out of rice," you say to him, re-checking your list. "we're out of rice??? impossible. i just had some yesterday." you sigh. "be that as it may, that doesn't change the fact that we don't have it anymore. can you grab it really fast?" he pouts a bit. you're not sure if he genuinely doesn't want to leave your side or if he's just stalling to remember where the rice aisle is. regardless, you don't want to stand here all day. "yuuji, i'll give you a kiss as a reward if you get it for me." he perks up immediately, giving you a grin and a thumbs up before dashing in the opposite direction. you smile to yourself. itadori may have been an idiot, but he's your idiot. the thought warms your heart. you push your cart of the produce section and into a large selection of rows, choosing one closest to you. you seem to be in the tea aisle. oh good, you think. we've been out of tea for a couple of days now. you peruse the section, picking up some green tea. you get some chamomile as well, stacking the boxes carefully so they won't get crushed by fruits. mmm what about chai? you search the boxes, only to see it's at the very top self. you reach up, fingers just barely touching the platform it's on. you can't even brush up against the box. you try standing on tiptoes, looking a bit silly as you try to extend your body beyond its natural length. you're thinking maybe you should wait for itadori to get back when a different hand easily plucks the box off the shelf. you follow the hand to its owner, to see it belongs to a tall guy about your age. he's cute you suppose, but it's no itadori. still, you smile sweetly and charm him with a "thank you! there was no way I was going to reach that." He smiles broadly back at you. "No problem," he replies. "You like chai tea?" You want to be polite and he's nice enough, so you respond "definitely! I don't know if it's my favorite, but it's a staple in my pantry." He blushes a bit, and scratches his hand behind his neck. "Yeah, same," he says. "There's actually a really nice café that opened up a few blocks away from here. They make a mean cup of chai, and they have these delicious little cinnamon rolls that go really well with them. If you're free any time soon, do you want to try one with me?" You open your mouth to politely turn him down when you feel a protective arm wrap around your waist. You turn your head to see a pink-cheeked itadori glaring at the stranger. he does look mad, but you also think he just looks so cute. ah, the duality of man. "oh, hi yuuji! did you get the rice?," you ask him. you have priorities, after all. "yeah," he says, not moving his arm or his gaze. "who's this, love?" oh, he's really jealous if he's pulling out the love. you try to defuse the situation. "oh, this guy just helped me get some tea from the top shelf. thanks again!" you say. the guy was not expecting a wild itadori to emerge from the tall grass, and is trying to figure a way out. "no problem," he repeats. "i'll see you around, yeah?" without waiting for a response, he puts the tea in your cart and walks away. "did you know that guy?" you ask, as itadori relaxes and puts the rice in the cart. "no, but it sure looks like you did," he says, a bit annoyed. "yuuji, are you jealous?" you tease. "no! of course not!" he retorts. his cheeks are still pink though, and now he's looking around like he expecting another guy to run through and sweep you up in their arms. you decide to take mercy on him, and tug one of his hands in your own. "hey, don't i owe you a reward for getting my rice?" he perks up, and flicks his gaze almost imperceptibly towards your mouth. you sweetly press his lips to his cheek, and smile innocently when he gives you an annoyed look. you turn around to go the cart, only to see that the tea guy has returned. itadori sees him too, and he looks mad again. however, instead of confronting him, he looks at you and says,

"c'mon, i meant a real kiss." he gently places his hands on your face and pulls you in. it's a light, yet passionate kiss. the rhythm is slow and soft, but there's a definite intensity behind it. his tongue has just swiped your bottom lip, entering your mouth when you remember that you're in public. you pull away and glance at the end of the aisle. the guy is gone. you glance at itadori. he is grinning triumphantly at you. you smile in spite of yourself, going back over to the cart. "yuuji?" he comes over, wrapping his arms around you and placing his head over your shoulder. "yes, my love?" "you got the wrong kind of rice." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ gojou satoru - a jealous gojou is not a good gojou. if you think he's annoying normally, it's about to get so, so, so much worse. ~ "satoru please!" you beg. you're feeling desperate now, there's no other way out. you two have gone to the park for a picnic to savor one of his rare days off. the spot you chose was warm and sunny with few people around; the day was supposed to be lovely. and it was, at least for a while. you had spent just the last hour cloud-watching, peacefully pointing out odd shapes in the sky. really though, you were just taking an excuse to lay on his stomach and talk. you two get so little time together like this that you try to savor every moment. however, in your analysis of a banana-shaped cloud far on the horizon, you noticed a familiar shape. the shape of your ex, to be precise. you stiffen, and gojou notices. "hey," he says. "what's wrong?" you don't respond immediately; your mind is swirling with schemes to avoid them. if you guys packed up now, could you go without being noticed? no, you were too close. could you hide? no, there wasn't anywhere to duck behind. you had to stop time somehow, but how? gojou waves his hand over your face. "hey? everything ok down there? have you gone into the void?" he asks. you start to glare at him, but then his words hit you in the face. the void. he can draw your ex into the void while you make a hasty getaway. you sit up, dropping your angry look and switching to a more saccharine one. "satoru," you start. "can you do a favor for me?" he gives you an easy smile. "of course, anything for you," he replies. "great, can you trap the person in the white shirt over there into the infinite void?" that certainly gets his attention. "i'm sorry, what?" he asks incredulously. "ok, so that's my ex over there. things ended kind of...awkwardly, and I just don't want to deal with this right now. could you trap them into the void before they notice me?" "i don't think the relationship was the thing that was awkward love. maybe you should just, you know, face the problem head on?" he suggests. "it can't be that bad. and even if it is, at least it'll be entertaining. actually, i'll give you two some privacy!" he says cheerfully, and promptly leaves. that brings you to your current predicament. you could be responsible and mature, but that would involve getting over your breakup. you may have slightly understated the awkwardness of the situation. truthfully, you got dumped and you pined over your ex for weeks afterward. you especially did not take it when when you were being broken up with. you begged them not to leave you while crying, making quite the scene in the restaurant they had chosen. now, with no lingering emotions, you just feel guilty and embarrassed for how you acted. but that was in the past, and you could move past that as long as it wasn't walking up to you. and now with gojou walking away, and them walking up...oh no. oh no oh no ohnonono. you take a deep breath in, and breathe out. i'm not the same person i was then, you think to yourself. this thought steadies your nerves; in fact, maybe gojou was right. you have been wondering what they’ve been up to, after all, and you might stop feeling guilty if you apologize. a bright and cheerful “hey!!” jolts you out of your thoughts; there they are. “hey,” you respond, a bit less cheerfully. you push yourself up off the ground to

greet them, and are a bit surprised when they pull you into a hug. it’s a more intimate hug than you would have guessed, with their hands snaking around your waist and gently cradling your head. they smell...nice, you think to yourself. as you pull away, you feel watched. you’re not sure from where, since you can’t see him, but you know gojou is watching you. well, good. he refused to help you out of this mess, so maybe you’ll make him suffer a bit. neither one of you say anything for a second.. “so….i guess how are you?” they ask you, smiling. “i’m great,” you reply. “how are you?” you ask. “good.” you stand there, neither one of you wanting to interrupt the delicate silence. “so,” you both say at the same time. you guys laugh, and just like that, the weird silence dissipates. “you go first,” they say to you. “well, i just want to say that i’m sorry. i know breaking up was probably hard for you, but i think i just made it harder by, you know, being unable to let us go. that was unfair to you and it definitely made things harder for me, so i’m really sorry about that.” “oh, wow,” your ex say, a bit surprised. “well, that sort of contrasts what i’m about to say. i was going to say that you were right.” huh? what? you furrow your eyebrows together, and stare back with a bemused expression. “i was right?” you venture. “about...what?” your ex sheepishly scratches the back of their head, giving you an embarrassed smile. “about us, i mean. you kept telling me that we were better together, and that we would only be unhappy apart. i know it’s been a while since we were together, but lately it’s all i can think about. i….still think i love you.” well, that was a bombshell. you just stare at them, stunned into silence. “sorry, i know that this is way too much for just meeting again; you just looked so beautiful and it reminded me of when we were together and i just miss being together and -- ah, i’m rambling like a crazy person now, aren’t i?” they wryly ask. you giggle. “just a bit,” you respond. they take your hands into theirs, tracing their thumb lightly over your skin. their eyes are honest, and their face is hopeful. “i know this is really sudden, but would you maybe want to get dinner with me soon? you don’t have to, of course, but…?” they pull one hand out, and drift it up to your face, caressing your jawline with such care that if you were not previously engaged, you might have melted into their arms right there. but you already had a boyfriend, even if he was an annoying one. you thought briefly about pretending to accept their offer, just to needle him, but decided against it. instead, you just kindly smiled at your ex, and pull their hand from your face. “this is really sweet,” you say. “but, unfortunately, i’m already taken.” their face falls, but they quickly mask it with a smile. “ah, i get it. someone as amazing as you would get snapped up fast. it was just my mistake to let you go,” they say, pulling back. “well, why don’t we start over with this. how about instead of a romantic dinner date, we just get coffee sometime. no love attached,” they add. “sure,” you respond. “i have been wanting to know what you’ve been up to.” “same here, how about tomorrow at 11?” they ask. “it’s a date!” you joke. “now, what’s a date?” you hear a familiar, slightly pouty voice from behind you. of course. why wouldn’t gojou appear at the worst possible time. you turn to your boyfriend, who has a shit-eating grin on his face. he’s planning something, but what? “hey ‘toru, this is my ex." you face your ex. "this is my boyfriend, gojou satoru." your ex smiles at him, blissfully unaware. "nice to meet you. we were just planning on getting some coffee soon." “oh, is that so? you’re not trying to steal my love away from me, are you?” there’s no threat in his voice, no hostility, but all the same your ex seems to pick up on his vexing energy and straightens up a little bit. “no, of course not,” they say. “hmmm, i believe you. but all the same, i could have sworn i heard talk of

a date. that reminds me love, weren’t we just finishing up on a date ourselves?” you sigh. “yes, we were.” turning to your ex, you turn back to say goodbye. that, however, is cut off by your lovely boyfriend picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. shocked, you pound your fists against his back. “gojou satoru, put me down right now.” gojou ignores you, instead sticking one hand out to shake your ex’s hand. “sorry to cut this short, but we simply must finish our date back at our place. wish i could invite you, but this is a more private activity.” he cheerfully states. mortified, you start kicking him and hitting him even harder. “ ‘toru! put me down so i can dump you right here and now!” “ahh, can’t have that now. we’d best get going so that someone learns a lesson, see you around!” with that and a quick sweep down to gather the picnic supplies, gojou carries you kicking and screaming out of the park. once outside, he puts you down. “satoru, what the absolute hell was that??? that was so embarrassing!” you cry out. “it was your idea to let me deal with that, and then you swoop in once it’s all taken care of? now they’re going to think i’m...i’m... i don’t even know what they’ll think of me, but i’m sure it won’t be positive!” “shhhh,” says gojou. “you might make a scene.” if you were mad before, well, now you’re apoplectic. “a scene???? i might make a scene?” you spit out seethingly. the entire way home, you tear into him for embarrassing you in front of your ex and an entire park full of people. finally, you get home and you drop the j-word. “and all this because you were just jealous??” now that you’ve dropped the threshold of your front door and pulled the trigger, gojou’s entire demeanor shifts. he drops the picnic supplies and picks you up again, but instead of going over his shoulder you’re now up against the wall. you instinctively wrap your arms and legs around him to keep from falling, skillfully intertwining your bodies together. his blindfold has slipped off, and now his piercing blue eyes are pouring into yours with a powerful intensity. your previous angry words slip off into the void, as you’re transfixed by the way he’s staring at you. he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses just barely touching. “yeah,” he breathes. “i got jealous. i let an ex come up to you and try to take you away, and i only sat there and watched. i knew you would never cheat on me, but i just got annoyed with myself for encouraging that. you mean too much to me to just let you be taken by someone else, so i really wanted to get you out of there as fast as possible. so, yeah, i’m sorry for embarrassing you. let me make it up to you?” it’s hard to say no in this position, but you try to hold your resolve. “satoru, you just can’t do that. promise me you’ll never do that again?” he’s still looking at you with that seriousness, so he replies “yes” with uncharacteristic sincerity. there’s nothing out of character though about the way he moves in to kiss you though, full of desire and need. you fall into a steady rhythm, a sweet push-and-pull of dominance flicking between you two. gojou suddenly takes over, and just as suddenly, he pulls away and starts carrying you to the nearest flat surface. “let me show you how much you mean to me, yeah?”

[honeybunnybeez]

If you want to you could write some C! Dream being soft around reader?

Secluded Cabin's and Gentle Touches

♡Pairing: Dream x GN!Reader (with hints of platonic!GN!reader x Tommy and Tubbo)

♡Genre: Fluff

♡Format: Fanfiction

♡Summary: It's not uncommon for Tommy and Tubbo to bring people over to your place so you can help calm them down after a prank, but today they seemed to drag by a familiar face that you have yet to properly spend time with. Lucky for you, he seems to be longing to talk to you as well.

♡Au Setting: Au where the war never happens but tensions are still high.

"Get back here!"

Despite the voice ordering them to stop, Tommy and Tubbo continued to run like their lives depended on it, and to be fair, it kinda did in this situation. Wet hands stained in different coloured dyes served as proof of their crimes and a green hooded man wearing an awfully smudged looking mask makes it clear who their latest prank victim was.

"What were we fucking thinking!?" but a laugh at the end of his yelling as he dodges Dream's outstretched hand makes it clear that Tommy doesn't regret his life choices at all.

"I don't know!" Tubbo on the otherhand, was starting to regret his involvement in the prank. His legs were starting to ache and his chest began to burn as he slowly became exhausted. A wild chase like this isn't exactly new to them but Dream's persistence really makes it hard for a person to catch a breather between runs. "Tommy, where are we even going!?"

Tommy opened his mouth to respond but a trail of scattered lanterns and torches answers Tubbo's question for him. Tubbo lets out a knowing, "ooooh!" And uses whatever remaining energy he can to keep up with Tommy, knowing exactly what his friend had in mind.

In the distance, they can see you sitting on your porch, playing with a parrot you had managed to tame while out searching for cocoa beans. Relief washes over them when you lock eyes with them and start jogging over with your bird in tow, a worried expression evident on your face.

They're quick to hide behind you when they get close enough, clutching the back of your shirt while trying to catch their breaths to answer your questions as to who they were running from this time and why.

"Dream-" is all Tommy can manage to wheeze out before he's coughing up a lung and swearing again.

"Ah," honestly, after knowing the pair for a good few years now, just mentioning a name gives you a pretty good idea of the type of prank they pulled and the danger they could be in. Thankfully, Dream wasn't a major threat, to you at least.

"Alright, alright, go hide in the house quickly and don't come out until I tell you guys to. If I die, make sure to take care of the farm animals and bees for me."

"Bless you, (y/n)."

"Your sacrifices won't be in vain, we promise!"

You give them a joking salute and urge them to go inside quickly, informing them that you can hear Dream approaching closer. Once the boys were safely inside, you tried your best to look as natural as possible with the limited time you had to adjust yourself. When Dream arrives, you can see that he's just as tired as the boys are thanks to the chase, though his stance continues to be tense as he frantically looks around for them, fists clenched tight until his knuckles turned ghost white.

"Fuck, where did they run off to?"

"Not gonna give a stranger a kind hello after walking onto their lawn with murderous intent?" You and Dream weren't really strangers per say, you had to meet up with him when you moved into the server after all, but due to conflicting schedules and how often Tommy and Tubbo dragged you away whenever he tried to make conversation, you two didn't know each other all that well. That doesn't mean that you didn't want to try though.

When Dream realizes where he was and who he was talking, he's quick to adjust his mask and hoodie to make himself look somewhat... presentable, as presentable as he can look with sweat marks and a messed up mask at least.

'Why did those two have to run up to your house out of all places,' Dream mentally whines to himself, clearing his throat and giving you a single awkward wave as he walks up to you.

"Hey, (y/n). I didn't know you lived in this part of the server," that was a lie. Dream did know where you live, he knew where everyone did but it would be a little creepy to just put that information out there, wouldn't it?

"It'd be a little weird if I just started screaming out my address to random people on the streets, wouldn't it?" You try to joke, earning a little laugh from Dream.

"Okay, yeah, you got me there."

You pat an empty spot beside you on your porch step, inviting Dream over for a bit of rest and he accepts your offer gratefully, practically slumping beside you as he suddenly feels just how tired he is.

"Love the new look you gave your mask by the way," Dream groans at your teasing and pulls at his hoodie strings, hoping to cover his whole mask with his hood. He's glad you can't see his face right now because he can feel his cheeks practically burning at the fact that when he finally gets a chance to talk and get close to you it's when he's a sweating tired mess who looks like a wreck at best.

"I'm going to kill those two when I find them," he mumbles under his breath.

The slam that follows within your home could not have been more terribly timed.

"What was that?"

"Must be my wolves," you lied through your teeth, knowing damn well that your actual wolves were sleeping in your bedroom, "they learned how to open doors recently, I think they're messing around at the moment."

While he's distracted, staring at your window to check what's going on inside of your home, you're quick to read through your most recent private messages on your communicator.

Tommy: HE'S HERE!

Tommy: (Y/N), WHY AREN'T YOU TELLING HIM TO FUCK OFF!?

Tommy: Fuck this, we're hiding in the kitchen.

Tubbo: We're making a run for it through the back.

Tommy: We'll hide in your barn like runaway children.

Tubbo: Isn't that what we technically are right now?

Tommy: (y/n), we're making a fucking run for it if you don't answer us in 3 seconds.

Tommy: 3!

Tommy: 2!

Tubbo: We'RE OUT! I REPEAT, WE'RE OUT!

"Yup," you pop your P a little at the end, annoyed yet amused at the string of frantic messages still continuing to pop up on your communicator as they make their escape, "definitely my wolves causing all of that chaos."

Dream knows that you're lying from the way you read through your messages but he doesn't say a word about it, choosing instead to take this golden opportunity to get closer to you without worrying about anyone getting in the way.

"Not really how you thought the day would go, huh?"

You can't help but laugh and shake your head, "Not at all, I thought it was just going to be another boring day with my bird, but hey, I'm glad you showed up to make it a little more special."

"Really?" Dream hates how happy he sounds to hear you say that, but he'll beat himself up over it another time.

"It's not everyday you see Mr. WasTaken himself visiting your humble home, now is it?" Oh, or maybe he won't.

"I guess not, that really should change, shouldn't it?" You can hear the little grin in his voice as he realizes the game your playing.

"It really should, but a quick heads up would be good, unless you'd like to deal with said 'wolves' I mentioned earlier."

He chuckles and shakes his head, mentioning how he's more than aware that those two 'wolves' of yours would probably rip him apart if he ever visited you unannounced.

It isn't long before you invite Dream inside, offering to help clean his mask as an apology on the boys's behalf. He claims that he doesn't mind but he would rather not take his mask off in front of you when he hasn't gotten to know you all that well.

"You don't have to remove it if you feel uncomfortable, I'll just wipe away whatever I can with a cloth, but if you're still hesitant, I'd understand."

He takes a moment to consider your offer, trying to see if you have any other ulterior motives. It's not that he doesn't want to trust you, he does, but sometimes you just have to be a little extra cautious even with people you like. Sensing no ill intent on your part though, he relaxes himself once more and accepts your help, letting his hood finally loosen and fall back to ease your process.

Your actions are incredibly comforting to Dream who can't help himself from leaning into your touches every once in a while. He watches you with his fullest attention as you wipe away the mess on his mask with a damp cloth. He loves how focused you look while doing so, taking in every little quirk you may have while you concentrate. His little crush on you that he's harboured ever since he saw you running around the server can't help but grow every second you give him your attention.

There's a certain draw to you that Dream can't fight off no matter how hard he tries, you just manage to hold a certain power over him and that was evident by the fact that he completely lost interest in continuing his hunt for Tommy and Tubbo even after finding out that they were still most likely on your property. Dream was a persistent man, he was never one to simply drop something with no proper reason at all. There was just this appeal to you that he couldn't describe and he was desperate to find out what it was about you that made him act differently than he normally would.

"Okay then, that's the last of it," he has to stop himself from letting out a whine when you pull your hands away from his mask, he wants to say something to try to get you to continue on longer but decides against it, not wanting to seem desperate. His eyes don't leave you even after you pull away, watching you rinse off the dirty cloth before throwing it into what seemed to be a bin filled with laundry. When you return to sit by his side, he can't help but swallow a bit of his pride to rest his head on your shoulder. It's a big risk to take, but at least he has an excuse for his actions if he ever needs it.

"Tired, Dream?"

"Mhmm," he feels himself melt when you let your fingers run through his slightly sweat damp hair, clearly unphased by the state of it much, to his joy.

"You wanna rest here for a while? I'm sure you could get a good nap in before leaving."

"That depends, can I still use you as my pillow?"

"Not like I have anything else to do for the rest of the day, knock yourself out."

"Then if you'll excuse me," his head is quick to leave your shoulder to instead rest in your lap and the blissful sigh he lets out escapes his lips before he can even stop himself. You just feel so comfortable to him. "I'm gonna drift off, wake me up in an hour or so, will you?"

You let out a hum in response and it isn't long before you start to see Dream's body go slack, his breathing now steady and deep as he slowly falls asleep. It's quite endearing seeing Dream act so affectionately towards you, something you certainly didn't expect from a guy who carries himself with a subtle wave of authority, but you definitely weren't complaining as you continued to play with his hair once again.

Dream would never tell a single soul about it, but this was quiet possible the best sleep he's gotten in years, if he even tried to sleep at all to begin with. The thought to just slow down and relax is never really on his mind, his head always spinning with things he has to do. However, with you, he's glad to know that he can look to you for comfort from now on, something he now realizes is rather hard to find on the server. It pains him to know that he'll have to leave in just a few moments but for now, he'll take what he can get from you and maybe, if you let him, he'll be sure to return your sweet gestures tenfold one day.

A/N: Hello, everyone! I am so sorry for being absent recently, I know the writer's block excuse can only go so far but- yeah ^^' I'm so sorry again for everything and I'm sorry if this isn't what you were hoping for anon! Thank you so much for the rquest and feel free to request it again if you want me to remake this to hopefully suit what you wanted. Anyways, I hope you all have a good day and thank you so much for reading!

(Requests are open and anon is on!)

[desiredmalfoy]

You Walked Away From Me (Fred x Reader)

House: Left it for the reader to choose

Relationship: Fred x Reader (Draco x Reader friendship??)

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2.4 K

I’m back with another more Fred Angst! I listened to drivers license by Olivia Rodrigo when writing this. It’s not really based on it but the song helped me get in that mindset. It’s such an amazing song! This is is in the same universe as the Dear Malfoy one I wrote. You don’t have to read it to enjoy this but I highly recommend that you do! No Voldemort in this universe. Italics are the readers thoughts. Also no Angelina slander! I had to pick a female character. 

Masterlist

Enjoy! :)

Falling out of love is expected, especially if two souls aren’t meant to be.

He had told me not to worry about her. She’s only a friend....

It was natural for Fred to be around Angelina Johnson. They were in the same year and she was the Gryffindor quidditch captain. It was only natural for their worlds to intertwine.  But that didn’t mean you didn’t worry about her being around your boyfriend. Every insecurity you’ve ever felt multiplied every time you saw her. She was tall like the models you saw grace the covers of the muggle magazines, she was just as pretty as them. Plus she had a good amount of the boys at Hogwarts vying for her attention. You felt so young and immature compared to her. Which was one of the reasons you refused to tell Fred of your constant thoughts of the insecurities you felt. 

You had no reason to be insecure about the time he spent with her. 

Because he had honestly not given you a reason to doubt him. He had never given you a reason to be suspicious of him. Your relationship with him had honestly been a dream until right now. He had asked you to the Yule Ball in such a simple and intimate manner. The whirlwind that was your fourth year also brought you love. You didn’t think you would ever find someone who truly loved you for you. But Fred showed you that he did. Someone who made every day worth it. During the summer you wrote to each other every day until he finally invited you to come over to the burrow. Your parents were hesitant to let you go at first since this year was different. You would around your boyfriend but you had managed to convince them after informing them that your Ginny and Hermione would also be there and that you had previously visited them already. 

He had even told you he loved you for the first time while you were there. You thought everything in your relationship was going smoothly.

This year was Fred’s final year at Hogwarts so it was expected for him to be much busier than usual. You would never hold that against him. He had spoken to you about his plans to open a shop with George after leaving school. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have to finish this year, Molly would not permit that to happen. But he still made time for you no matter what. He would look for you at every chance he had. You treasured each fleeting moment with the ginger boy who had stolen your heart. 

But things started to change slowly and you couldn’t help but notice.

Maybe you should’ve paid more attention to the changes you saw in him. The newfound lack of time he now had for you. The way you noticed he no longer looked at you the same way. When he no longer held your hand for long. The way he toned you out when you spoke to him about the newest adventure you had read. He had always asked for the book after you so he could read it for himself too. Slowly over time, he stopped asking what you were reading and wanting to be a part of your world. 

I wish I could’ve erased all our time together.

You were going to sneak into the boy’s dormitories to return to give Fred back his potions book he had accidentally left in the library when the two of you were studying. This was the first time in a couple of days she had even spent more than five minutes with her boyfriend. He had suggested that they study together and you had jumped on the opportunity to spend more time with him. Even if it was in silence but you were with him.

Normally she would’ve kept the book and just gave it to him in the morning. But with his unusual behavior as of recently, you weren’t sure you would even see him in the morning before class. Snape already had it out for Fred and him showing up without his potions book would definitely be costly for him. 

She was used to sneaking into the dormitory as she sometimes hung out with Fred in his room. She walked to the familiar door she was used to seeing. You stopped suddenly when she heard Fred’s voice. He was talking to someone and she wanted to make sure she wasn’t intruding into the conversation. Must be George or another dorm mate. 

That’s when she heard a female voice. Angelina 

“Fred are you sure what you’re saying”, Angelina said softly, you could barely hear her. 

There was a pause for a couple of seconds. What do they mean? 

“Yes”, Fred finally spoke. “I like you…”

“But what about (y/n)”, Angelina questioned him. You can hear that her voice had started to become shaky. 

You felt your heart breaking as if it was physically being shattered. It felt as if someone had torn it straight from your chest and now was mercilessly breaking your glass heart it into nothing.

You had heard enough and you pushed the door open without much warning. You startled the both of them as they jumped far away from each other. 

“Oh hey (y/n)...wha-what’s wrong”, Fred stuttered as he made his way toward you.

“You left your potions book in the library”, you answered showing zero emotion in your voice as you threw the book on his bed. It bounced off his mattress and landed with a hard thud on the floor. 

“I need to talk to you alone”, you said as you emphasized the last word directly at Angelina. 

They gave each other a look and Angelina exited the room. As she was leaving her eyes kept looking between the two of you. But you kept your vision trained on Fred and didn’t spare a glance at the girl leaving.

“Since when Fred”, you spoke coldly to him as soon as you heard the door close.

“I-I-I….please let me explain”, Fred said as he attempted to grab your hands. You pulled them away as if his touch was burning you. Maybe it did in a way.

“Then explain and no excuses.” Tears were already forming in your eyes.

“Since the end of October”, he said while looking at you.

“The more time we spent together, the more I realized my feelings were changing”, he continued to speak to you. “Things changed (y/n) and I’m sorry.”

“You said you loved me”, you cried softly as tears were now pouring down your face. Your voice betrayed what you truly felt. You wanted to yell at him until your throat got raw and could no longer yell at him. “I guess you never truly meant it when you said you loved me.”

“I did! I-I...thought I di-...the love changed from romantic to simply as a friend. I meant it when I said it”, Fred exclaimed as he ran his fingers through his hands. Completely frustrated at the situation before him that he created. “Please (y/n), I still love you and care about you as my friend.”

“Stop! You don’t get to call me your friend Fred Weasley”, you yelled at him. This outburst surprised him as he had never seen you act this way. “You lost that privilege.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you”, Fred said while looking into your eyes pleadingly. 

All that pent up anger and insecurities were finally spilling over. She was over this.

“Just shut up….you’re such a git Fred Weasley”, you said while angrily wiping the tears on your face. “It’s obviously over but that’s exactly what you wanted.”

“(y/n), please…..”

“Some Gryffindor you are, you’re nothing but a coward Fred Weasley.”

Wanting to get the final word in she quickly left his room and slammed the door. She hurried down the hall of the boys’ dormitories looking to get out of here as soon as possible. It felt like she was suffocating. 

She accidentally bumped into someone as she was exiting the common room. She threw out a lame apology and kept walking without stopping. She didn’t really care at this moment. She hurried down the school looking for a place that they wouldn’t look for her. She just wanted to be alone today. 

I wish I could turn back time to the moments we were happier. 

(Y/N) sat at the top of the astronomy tower with tears spilling from her eyes. At some point, she could no longer cry and just let the tears silently slip from her eyes. Her body felt heavy from the minutes she had already spent sobbing. Her eyes were swollen and all she wanted to do was close them and sleep. But she was outside right now and she honestly didn’t feel like getting up right now. (Y/N) felt pathetic at the fact that she thought Fred had ever truly loved her. He claimed that at one point he did but she couldn’t even be sure of that. The presence of the moon and stars that glistened in the sky brought some peace to her at this moment. (Y/N) was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to hear the footsteps coming up the tower. 

“(Y/L/N)? What are you doing here”, questioned a voice that (y/n) immediately recognized. 

Draco Malfoy.

She quickly whipped her head to face the boy who was making his way towards her. 

“Look Malfoy”, (y/n) responded with a long sigh. “I’m not in the mood today. So if you’re going to throw some insults my way…. just do it. I don’t care anymore.”

“You seem like a mess (y/l/n)”, Draco said as he sat down on the floor next to (y/n). He still kept his distance though. 

“You sure have a way with words Malfoy”, (y/n) said with an eye roll. “So charming.”

“I’m stating the obvious. What’s wrong?”

“Why should I tell you”, she responded defensively. “So you can go tell the rest of your friends and tease me about it.”

“Fine. Then don’t say anything.”

There were a few seconds of silence before he spoke again

“I wouldn’t kick you when you are already down”, Draco said so quietly that (y/n) could barely hear him say it. 

“Why wouldn’t you? You clearly hate me”, she scoffed at him.

“I never hated you (y/n). I just greatly disliked those you decided to make yourself an acquaintance with”, he said nonchalantly. 

“Well...you’re in luck because I definitely won’t be around them now”, (y/n) said simply as she stared at Draco. 

Draco only starred at her with a confused expression on his face. He honestly didn’t know what to say next.

“He cheated on me”, (y/n) finally said to him. She saw his eyes soften at her confession.

“And you know what’s worse? My supposed friends probably knew. George definitely did”, (y/n) said as she ranted to Draco. Someone she never thought she would even speak to unless it was to trade snide remarks. 

“Well if they never told you they were never truly your friend.”

“Plus he’s their brother and much closer to him. It’s only expected that I’m going to be the one pushed to the side.”

“Well if you need someone to talk to, I’m here every night.”

“Why are you being so nice to me”, (y/n) questioned him. They had never been on best terms but it’s because she had learned to ignore him and pay no attention to his remarks.

“Everyone needs someone to talk to and like I said I never hated you.” 

(Y/N) thought about this for a while. She was conflicted on trusting Draco, especially after their shared history. She was emotionally vulnerable at the moment and wasn’t in the best mindset to make a decision.

“It’s getting late, we should go before one of the prefects comes up here”, (y/n) said to him.

“Your right”, he said simply as he stood up. “The offer still stands (y/l/n).”

With that Draco Malfoy walked away from her and left her baffled at what just had occurred. 

Darling how I wish last night was just a nightmare…

(Y/N) had been trying to avoid her friends the whole day. She decided to not show up to breakfast and avoid the awkward situation. Plus they were her only friends and she didn’t really have anywhere else to sit other than with maybe Luna. She was more of an acquaintance but she knew that she wouldn’t deny her a spot. She had skipped any class that she shared with them and hid from the rest of the day. But she couldn’t skip dinner. She was hungry and her candy stash was depleting quickly. Plus she couldn’t live off sweets. She had to go.

As she walked into the great hall, she felt nervous about what she was going to do. She didn’t want to face this right now. She was going to just keep on walking and make her way towards Luna. But once she entered she only made it a short distance before her entire mind went blank when she made eye contact with Fred. Hermione saw her next and started to stand up to make her way towards her. She has to get out of here.

Maybe she could live off her candy for a couple more days. She turned around quickly and started to make her way towards the door. But someone grabbed her hand. Not right here.

“Come sit here (y/l/n)”, Draco said as she looked down at him. He was sitting by himself and that was unusual considering that his friends were always around.

“Your friends won’t mind”, she questioned him. She noticed that her friends had all turned their attention to her and Draco. They were all looking at them.

“It doesn’t matter what they think.”

She looked at Draco and then at Hermione who was still standing and assessing the situation. She took her hand away from Draco’s grasp and sat down next to him. She turned to look at them one more time. They looked extremely confused at her actions. Fred looked at her with obvious annoyance on his face. She couldn’t believe he even thought he had the right to be annoyed.

She knew she couldn’t run from them, but she would deal with that another day.

I’m thinking of maybe continuing this?? 

Reminder: None of my work can be reposted anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you give credit, please do not repost!

[duckymcdoorknob]

The Fall of Red Riot

Warning! This is a tickle fic!

Ships: KiriBaku

The breakdown: Lee!Kirishima, Ler!Bakugo and Ler!Kaminari

Warnings: tickling, swearing, fluff overload

Prompt: The 1-A boys are hanging in the classroom during lunch and they’re stumped. They could not get Kirishima to spill his biggest secret: his crush. Bakugo rolls his eyes and volunteers his methods...

“There’s gotta be some way!” Kaminari whined.

“No way! I’m never telling any of you!” Kirishima barked in response.

“Tch, we’ll get it out of you at some point, shitty hair.” Bakugo noted coolly.

“OYE DON’T CALL ME THAT!” Kirishima yelled.

The boys groaned as they all ate their lunches. It was just them and Aizawa, who naturally was asleep, all alone in the classroom.

Kirishima was in a really fuckin’ bad place; he was being pestered by his friends. They all wanted to know who his secret crush was. Luckily, due to his quirk, the boy could withstand anything.

“There isn’t anything?” Midoriya questioned, “not even one thing?”

“Punch me, kick me, swirly, wet willie, draw on me, whatever you want. I’m not talkin’.” Kirishima answered bravely.

Bakugo let out a scoff as he rolled his eyes. “You’re all idiots”

“Well I don’t see you offering any ideas, Kacchan!” Deku grew defensive.

“Literally you’re all fucking stupid.” Bakugo was getting agitated; are they all really this dense?

Deku and Bakugo glared daggers at each other before Bakugo squeezed Deku’s sides.

The smaller boy yelped and leaped at least a foot in the air.

The blonde scoffed, rolled his eyes, then finally spoke up, “there’s your method. Try it out, I’m sure it’ll work.”

Kirishima, who had not been paying attention, turned toward Bakugo, “What method? What do you mean Bakubro?”

“Well now that you’ve got him wondering, I think that you should do the honors.” Kaminari chimed.

Deku grinned menacingly while Bakugo tackled Kirishima and straddled him.

“W-woah there! What gives, Bakugo?” Kirishima grew anxious, what the hell was this guy’s deal?

“Last chance to talk, shitty hair.” The blonde was smiling evilly, a side Kirishima had never seen before.

Red Riot sucked in a breath.

“Do your worst!” Kirishima cried preparing for inevitable pain, “what man can’t take a little pain?”

“Wh-Pain?” Deku asked with furrowed brows, “no-no! You got it all wrong. Kacchan is just going to exploit your body’s sensitivity is all.”

“Ohh!” Kirishima beamed. Then the realization struck, “oh”

Bakugo rolled his eyes. “Way to go shitty Deku, now he knows the plan!”

Nonetheless, the Katuski clawed his hand and started to lower it down to an already giggling Kirishima’s tummy.

The red haired boy used his summer camp training: act quick in heavy pressure situations.

The hero in training hardened his skin, adding an extra layer to his abdomen, causing Bakugo to groan.

“Seriously? Your shitty quirk!” Bakugo rolled his eyes, “well I can wait here all day. And when the girls come back, you get to say which one you like in front of her.”

“HAVE YOU NO MERCY?” Kirishima roared.

The sudden loud noise awoke Aizawa. He was not a happy camper when he was woken up, especially from a good nap like this.

“You know what Bakubro! I’ll be fine holding out! I can keep my skin hard as long as I wish!” Kirishima yelled cockily.

Oh this will be good.

Aizawa stood up and stealthily stood next to Midoriya. He put a finger to his lip and winked at the greenette.

“How can you interrogate me with no method? You really didn’t think this through Bakubro.” Kirishima was getting cockier by the minute, “can’t tickle someone with no soft skin!”

Aizawa grinned.

Midoriya clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from spoiling another surprise.

As Aizawa’s hair stood up in an instant, Kirishima’s rock hard abdomen disappeared into a soft, pudgy, tummy.

“YES!” Bakugo cried

“M-MISTER AIZAWA!” Kirishima whined.

“You’re the one who woke me up. Just thought I’d keep my quirk alert Incase if any villains attack.” Aizawa responded in a monotone.

Bakugo didn’t hesitate. He immediately started scribbling his fingers along Kirishima’s sides.

The red haired boy kept his composure, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Oh? Nothing’s working huh.” Bakugo lifted his attack, “I guess we’ll just have to stop then.”

“Man you really suck at th- EEP!” Kirishima squeaked as Bakugo raised his arm above his head and poked the hollow of his arm.

It all happened so fast, Kirishima couldn’t even attempt to hold in his laughter.

“waihihihihit. Bahahahahakuhuhuhgohohoho!” Kirishima’s bubbly giggles melted Midoriya’s heart. Normally, Red Riot would be rolling all over laughing, but the uniform definitely helped minimize the feeling.

“You ready for talk yet?” Bakugo asked with a cocked grin.

“Nehehehehehever! Ihihihihihihihi cahahahan lahahahahast!” Kirishima manages through his uncontrollable giggling.

“Midoriya I might need some eye drops. This could take a while.” Aizawa muttered.

Deku chuckled and grabbed drops from Aizawa’s desk.

“You’re getting boring shitty hair. I’ll find your death spot and you’ll never stand a chance.”

“Jokes on you! You can’t even access it!” Kirishima spoke without thinking.

“Oh? Why is that? Is it blocked by me or clothes?” Bakugo cooed as he started to untuck Kirishima’s uniform shirt.

“Waihihihihit Bakubrohohohoho!” Kirishima giggled uncontrollably before any contact was made with his hyper-ticklish skin.

“What happened to being unbreakable? Where’s the great Red Riot now?” Bakugo teased as he prepares an assault, “I wonder if you share your worst spot with the shitty Deku.”

Deku yelped with wide eyes as attention turned to him. He could kill Kacchan.

“W-where’s his death spot?” Kirishima asked, followed by a gulp.

“Nowhere special. Just-“ Bakugo drilled his thumbs into Kirishima’s hips, “here.”

“BAHAHAHAHAHAKUHUHUHGOHOHOHOHO!” Kirishima cried out.

“Ohh maybe you do have the same death spot as Deku!” Bakugo teased confidently.

Kirishima’s bright belly laughter filled the room. All of the other boys gathered ‘round to see what was going down.

“Bakugo, you do know you just exposed Deku right?” Kaminari questioned with amusement.

“And I care because? I’m the only one who knows how to get him howling anyways.” Bakugo replied cockily.

A loud yelp was emitted from Deku’s side of the room after Aizawa took a squeeze at both of the boy’s hips.

“Well he’s not lying.” Aizawa said calmly.

“Come make yourself useful, Pikachu. Hold his arms up.” Bakugo commanded.

Kaminari obliged and soon Kirishima was under Bakugo’s mercy, meaning there would be none.

“Tell us Shitty Hair!” Bakugo spoke louder as he removed a hand from one of Red Riot’s hip, and added a scribbling hand to one of his underarms.

“NNGH- NEHEHEHEVEHEHEHEHER!” Kirishima cried.

The boys of class 1-A all shared the same look: fearful amusement. They now knew to never mess with Bakugo, especially after today.

Bakugo lifted his attack fully. “Alright Kirishima, you leave me no choice.”

Kirishima gulped nervously.

“Either you tell me your death spot, or I embarrass the hell out of you right now.” Bakugo said menacingly.

“Y-you. Fiend. You’ll get nothin’ outta me.” Kirishima barked in rebuttal.

“Suit yourself.” Bakugo said calmly, “Pikachu.”

Kaminari drew his attention to Bakugo. While this happened, Aizawa realized that Kirishima was too weak to use his quirk, so he retreated back to his sleeping bag.

“You might wanna sit on those arms, things are gonna get ugly.”

As Kaminari obliged, Bakugo began to pinch at the pudge right above Kirishima’s bikini line. This caused the hard-rock hero’s laughter to jump up an octave.

“Found it~” Bakugo purred in a low voice.

“BAHAHAHA! BAHAHAHAHAHAKUHUHUHUHUHUGOHOHOHOHOHO! MEHEHEHEHEHEHRCHYHEHEHEHE!” Kirishima tried to writhe from under the blonde’s evil clutches.

“Then tell us!” Bakugo demanded angrily.

“NOHOHOHOHOHO!” Kirishima whined in response.

“Then die.”

Bakugo’s evil smirk was all that Kirishima saw before his eyes squeezed shut and he was a screaming, blushing mess.

The blonde continued to squeeze the boy’s worst spot. But, he also demanded Kaminari to spider his fingers under Red Riot’s arms. And to top it all off, Bakugo started blowing fat raspberries on Kirishima’s abs.

Red Riot moved into quiet hysterics, unable to bear the tickly feeling.

“Maybe you should stop soon.” Tokoyami butted in, “He doesn’t look too good.”

“Shut up bird brain! He’s done when he confesses!” Bakugo barked back.

Kirishima was trying his best to get out of his friend’s clutches, he was even squeezing Kaminari’s butt with his free hands. But, It had no effect on the electric boy.

“BAHAHAHAKUGOHOHOHO, KAHAHAHAHAMINAHAHAHAHRIHIHIHI STAHAHAHAPPIT! Q-QUIHIHIHIHIHIT IHIHIHIHIT! I CAHAHAHAHANT TAHAHAHAHAKE IHIHIHIHT!” Kirishima squealed as tears leaked from his eyes.

“Last chance to tell us before we get you to exhaustion!” It was Kaminari’s turn to interrogate now.

“OKAY- OKAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAY IHIHIHIHILL TEHEHEHEHELL!” Kirishima cried.

The attack ceased, leaving Kirishima panting. After a few seconds of greedily gulping in air, Red Riot looked at his attackers, then his classmates. He had no dignity left, so why should he lie?

“It’s um... it’s...” shit. He needed to come up with a name quick, “it’s Mina.”

“You liar.” Kaminari said as he skittered his fingers once again.

“IHIHIHIM NOHOHOHOT LYIHIHIHIHING!” Kirishima cried.

“That’s enough Pikachu. He knows to tell us the truth.” Bakugo unstraddled Kirishima, Kaminari did the same. The blonde reached a hand out and helped Red Riot to his feet.

His classmates surrounded him in a circle, there was nowhere to run.

“Ah jeez. This is gonna be embarrassing.” Kirishima spoke softly.

“Just say it!” Kaminari commanded.

“It’s Ururaka!” Kirishima yelped.

“No! You’re still lying! I know when you lie because your quirk activates on only your hands!” Bakugo yelled.

“Mister Aizawa! The one time I needed you to erase my quirk!” Kirishima groaned bashfully.

“Just tell us dude we won’t judge you.” Kaminari said with a reassuring hand on Red Riot’s shoulder.

Kirishima looked at all of his classmates curious faces. What if they judged him? What if they didn’t want to be his friend anymore because of who he liked?

“W..well.. um...” Kirishima closed his eyes and sighed, “it’s.. its B-Bakugo.”

Bakugo’s eyes widened along with all the other boys.

“I.. I shouldn’t have said that...” Kirishima said before running out of the room.

“Kirishima! Stop!” Bakugo yelled.

The blonde went chasing after Red Riot, leaving the rest of the class dazed.

“What did I miss?” Aizawa asked with a yawn. He saw all of his confused students, “Jesus was it Mt. Lady or something?”

“N-no... Kacchan” Deku spoke quietly.

“Oh that was obvious.” Aizawa said with an amused breath of air. “Now I owe All-Might 200 Yen.”