#when i tell you this sent me on a wildly off the tracks train of thought about the lts in general.... lmao

[grif-hawaiian-rolls]

if you're still taking requests, please please please draw some bitlomo (bitters/palomo)!!! if you're not up for it it's okay, i'm just obsessing suuuper hard over them lately x3c

"Shut up, Palomo," "Is this about the sniper rifle thing? Because I feel like it's about the sniper rifle thing," "Oh my god," "Cause if it is the sniper rifle thing-" "CHARLIE. SHUT UP!" ... "I shtill feel 'ike you're mad 'bou'he shniper rihful thing," "For fuck's sake"

[wileys-russo]

Alessia and reader are in a relationship and come into training arguing about something that the team can’t figure out

When asked reader simply replies with “I’m NOT a passenger princess”

(Bc let’s be honest, Less won’t anyone drive her merc)

this is so funny lmao

passenger princess II a.russo

"you are unbelievable!" you scoffed as alessia pulled into her spot, your seatbelt off before she even put the car in park, opening the door and storming out.

"oh yeah? well you are immature!" alessia countered as she slid out of the drivers seat, the obvious anger in both of your voices catching your team mates attention who'd pulled in just before you, turning around and watching on with a frown.

"don't speak to me today." you warned, snatching your kit bag from the back seat and making a point to slam your girlfriends car door before marching off. "don't slam my fucking doors!" alessia shouted after you, nostrils flaring as she continued to mutter angrily under her breath.

lotte and katie sharing a look they both nodded, lotte falling back to check in with alessia as katie slung an arm over your shoulder halting you in your tracks as you charged past her.

"hey now hothead, whats with all the shouting then?" katie asked with a frown, walking the two of you inside as you glanced over your shoulder, seeing alessia gesture her hands around wildly clearly venting to lotte who nodded on.

"doesn't matter." you grumbled, shrugging her arm off of you and disappearing into the training centre, katie whistling after you and muttering something about trouble in paradise before following you inside.

~

the obvious tension between you and alessia was anything but subtle as you slammed down the medicine ball time after time, earphones in and blocking out the world. many of your team mates had tried to console you or get to the bottom of it but you'd just shake your head and brush them off, mumbling you were fine and moving onto your next set.

alessia would look over to you with a glare every few minutes, lotte keeping a careful eye on her as the girl continued to add extra weight onto her bench press, having given up warning her against it when she repeatedly refused to listen.

no one had been successful in getting anything out of the blonde gunner either, alessia also only grumbling that she was fine with a cold stare sent your way before commencing a new rep.

"what are we gonna do with them?" beth sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as she stood with katie, leah and viv, watching as the two of you locked gazes and you flipped alessia off, causing the older girl to shake her head with a scoff, eyes only narrowing into a filthy look as she muttered angrily under her breath.

"give em some gloves and put them in the ring?" katie offered with a shrug, viv smacking her over the back of the head at the suggestion. "what! couple of punches, some light wrestling, get the aggression all out of their bodies and they'll be back to themselves in no time." katie stood by it, viv only shaking her head and mumbling this was why katie was single as the woman gasped.

"vivianne!" "what? if this is your idea of a conflict resolution then you will never get another girlfriend." "what you're telling me you don't ever wanna give meado a smack around?" "...I didn't say that." "vivianne!" beth gasped now, the dutch simply smiling in response.

"we move onto the pitch next, maybe that'll help them settle?" beth sighed as the trainer blew his whistle, announcing you'd all have a break for lunch and were expected outside again at 2pm.

"woah now sunshine, not so fast." leah grabbed the back of your top as you tried to jet away to a free table once you had your food, practically dragging you to sit down with her.

"leah!" you whined as the older girl moved away your food, smacking your hand as you tried to snatch it back. "no explanation for the moodiness, no lunch." your captain shrugged, ignoring the daggers you sent her way at her words.

having played alongside leah for years now both for club and country the blonde had become somewhat of an older sister figure to you. "fine! i'm not hungry anyway." you huffed, folding your arms and resting them on the cafeteria table, leaning your chin on top as you felt someone else sit next to you.

"why aren't you eating?" lia asked softly as you glanced toward her, eyes filled with concern. "leah won't let me." you grumbled, the blonde scoffing beside you as lia shot her a glare and grabbed your tray of food back, sliding it toward you and tutting at her work wife who tried to intervene.

sending the defender beside you a smug smile you leant your head on lias shoulder making small talk with her, grateful that someone wasn't trying to push you to talk about whatever had happened with alessia this morning.

"lotte i'm not sitting with-" alessias words fell short as her friend pushed her down into the seat across from you, hands on her shoulders as your girlfriend tried to stand to leave, caitlin quickly sitting down in the seat beside her.

"can the two of you please just settle whatever this is like adults?" lotte sat on her other side, looking between the two of you with a firm look as you swallowed your mouthful of food and pushed your tray away, appetite now gone.

"girls please don't both talk at once." caitlin tried to joke to lighten the mood, but it fell flat as you and alessia engaged in what had to be your tenth silent stand off of the day, glaring one another down wordlessly as alessia picked at her food.

"can one of you at least tell us what this is about?" leah groaned, dragging her hands down her face, frustrated at the stubbornness from the younger girls.

but before anything else could be taken any further the clock struck five to two and lia's phone pinged with an alarm, warning all the girls they needed to finish up and head back to the pitch.

not awaiting an invitation you were up and out of your seat first, grabbing your tray and marching away from the table. "less?" leahs eyes practically begged for an explanation as the blonde huffed and shook her head, shrugging off lottes hand and following after you toward the pitch.

"you know what, i'm slowly beginning to agree with katies idea."

~

unlike the rest of your friends hoped, things did not settle once you were all back on the pitch, you and alessia only ignoring one another bar from the occasional snappy comment when paired together for drills.

it was nearing the end of the session and you were playing a 5 a side game, switching out which team was playing which, the entire squad split into 5 teams.

normally one of the more focused members of the team, today you were anything but, head too torn between wanting to rip alessias head off and how much you just wanted to settle things and be back in her arms.

and this lack of focus lead to your face being on the receiving end of a particularly fierce strike from caitlin, the ball bouncing off your nose as you fell down to the pitch with a cry of pain, feeling a hot liquid start to drip down your chin.

"holy shit i am so sorry!" the australian was by your side instantly, eyes wide as you quickly assured her it wasn't her fault and you should have seen the ball coming and ducked out of the way.

"is it bad?" you winced as the medic arrived and poked softy at your nose, gently shooing away the other girls and helping you sit up. "we'll have to wait until it stops bleeding to properly assess it.

your girlfriend was of course near by, hovering anxiously around as she crossed her arms over her chest and fought the urge to rush in and comfort you, giving the medic the time and space to asses the injury.

"go on! she's still your missus, don't let a stupid argument stop you looking after her." katie knocked her shoulder into alessia as you were walked off the pitch, leah and steph following after you as you disappeared inside the training centre.

with a nod alessia was off after you, katie rolling her eyes before turning to chat with lotte.

~

"is it broken?" you asked for the tenth time, the medic sighing and once again repeating she was waiting for the specialist to come and assess you, as his opinion would be far more accurate than her own.

with a loud groan you leant back against the wall, swinging your legs to and fro impatiently. "when will he be here?" you asked again as leah pinched the bridge of her nose to stop from snapping, steph rubbing your shoulder comfortingly and murmuring you'd already been given an answer to that question.

you perked up as the door opened, however your body deflated as alessia stepped inside, luckily followed right afterwards by the specialist as she sat down beside steph who'd moved away from your side so you could be assessed.

"is it broken?" you asked impatiently as you leant your head back at the mans request.

"for the love of god please give her answer before i actually break her nose for asking over and over again." leah grumbled, you shooting her a filthy look as the specialist chuckled, assuring you it wasn't broken and you'd just need a few days off to let the swelling go down without the risk of a knock, which could lead to it being broken.

nodding at his instructions you thanked him and pressed the ice pack back to your face as the medic left to speak with jonas about the outcome. "have you come to apologize then?" you asked your girlfriend with narrowed eyes who scoffed.

"no! because i was right, so i therefore have nothing to be sorry for." alessia shook her head, leah and steph exchanging a look as the door opened and beth, katie and lotte entered, the irishwoman dropping your packed up kit at your feet for you.

"you were not right! god you're so stubborn alessia." you groaned, throwing the ice pack on the seat next to you. "i'm stubborn!?" alessia exclaimed, throwing her hands up as she rolled her eyes.

"okay enough! what on earth are the two of you so wound up about? neither of you are leaving till we get to the bottom of this." leah ordered firmly, katie moving to block the door at her words.

"she said i'm a passenger princess, i am not a passenger princess!" you shouted, eyebrows knitting into a deep frown as you tucked your knees up to your chest, shooting your girlfriend a glare.

"yes you are, i drive you everywhere! but i didn't even say it was a bad thing." alessia argued standing to her feet, your friends looking on in disbelief that this tiny miniscule comment was what caused your ongoing row today.

"are the two of you havin a fucking laugh? that was what you're arguing for?" katie spoke for everyone, looking between the couple with shocked eyes.

"you only drive me everywhere because you won't let me drive the mercedes!" you huffed as alessia threw her head back with a loud groan. "my mercedes, i don't let you drive my mercedes." the blonde corrected as your team mates gave up, grabbing their things and filing out of the room, muttering under their breath to one another how ridiculous the two of you were.

"i am not a passenger princess alessia, take it back." you demanded with a harsh scowl, the blonde taking a few steps toward you. "no. i like that you're a passenger princess because i enjoy driving you around. why does it have to be a bad thing?" alessia stood now right in front of you, raising an eyebrow curiously as you struggled to think of a reason.

"see? now stop being such a baby, i'm driving us home." alessia grabbed your kit bag for you, shutting down your protests you could take it yourself with a single look, extending you her hand.

"can you at least teach me how to drive it? what if you fell down the stairs and broke your leg and i had to drive you to hospital?" you accepted her hand, jumping down from the assessment table as the two of you made your way out of the training centre and toward the parking lot, the rest of your team already gone for the day.

"no need, i'd call an ambulance." alessia chuckled, the two of you now seemingly right back to normal as the taller girl rummaged around in her pockets for the keys. "looking for these?" you asked with a smug smile, holding up the keys which you'd swiped from her pocket as the two of you walked here.

"don't even try it." alessia warned with a shake of her head, pulling your smaller frame into hers as she pressed you against the side of the car when you tried to run off, easily plucking the keys from your hand.

"i'm buying a car then." you stated firmly, alessia shaking her head as she moved in closer, her mouth just ghosting yours. "no you're not."

"you're not the boss of me." you resisted the urge to smile as the striker toyed with the bottom of your training top. "yes i am." the blonde grinned, pressing a few loving kisses to your lips and pushing herself off of you, opening your door for you as you slid into the car with a playful roll of your eyes.

as alessia sat down in her own seat and pulled her door shut her body locked up as she turned and your mouth suddenly pressed to hers, taking her surprise to your advantage and slipping your tongue into her mouth.

but before anything could be taken further your lips were gone and you settled back into your seat, clipping your belt in and plugging your phone in to select some music, alessias head spinning slightly from the dizzying kiss you'd just rewarded her with.

"lets not forget baby, the passenger princess is always the boss."

[gh0stsp1d3r]

hellooo! I just had to request this I know its corny and technically it makes no sense but in a way it does. Like a story with the song Helpless from hamilton lmao. Like reader eliza luke is hamilton and maybe like clarrise is angelica not in the like romantic way just in shes the readers sister!

ℋℯ𝓁𝓅𝓁ℯ𝓈𝓈

How’d you know I love Hamilton, anon? LUKE AND HAMILTON? I love it.

Warnings: not too sure on Clarisse’s age but i think she was around a year older than Percy?? In tlt she would have been 13/14, but my timeline is most definitely off so…

i. “Boy, you got me helpless. Look into your eyes, and the sky's the limit.”

The second his eyes met yours, you felt your heart race against your chest. You swallowed the lump in your throat as he sent a small smirk to you, before going back to talking to his friends.

You looked down at the floor now, you’d only been admiring him and for some reason, felt attracted to him more than you had anyone.

ii. “I'm helpless. Down for the count, and I'm drownin' in 'em.”

When you first started dating, you always told him how much you loved his eyes. They were beautiful.

You got lost in them often, when sparring and even when you both taught some campers together. The younger campers teased and gossiped about you both while you rolled your eyes at them, telling them to shut it.

No one has ever seen an Ares kid be as soft as you are with Luke. Even Dionysus is confused at it.

iii. I have never been the type to try and grab the spotlight. We were at a revel with some rebels on a hot night.Laughin' at my sister as she's dazzling the room. Then you walked in, and my heart went "boom"

Clarisse was talking and you turned your attention back to her, laughing at something she said.

As you leaned against the wall, a boy had caught your eye. He had brown curly hair, he looked to be the same age. He was holding a cup of something and looked at the others partying. He had a scar that ran down his cheek.

He was undeniably attractive.

You met Luke at a party. His first party he’s gone to, your sister stood next to you. She was younger than you, 11, She was brave, not afraid of anything really. And despite only knowing her for a year, you loved her.

Granted, you were 15 at the time, but you couldn’t leave her in the cabin alone, especially after she begged to come. You stared at the boy from afar, the more you looked the more interesting he got. He was talking with some friends.

She began to talk about something before realizing you weren’t listening. Her eyes went over to where you were looking, and they landed on the Hermes boy.

She quirked an eyebrow at you, a small smirk on her face. “Do you like h-“

You quickly snapped out of it, putting a hand over her mouth.

“Shhhh. Clarisse!”

“What?”

“Do you know him?” You asked her.

“It’s Luke, he’s a counselor. Annoying as sh-“

“Language.”

“He’s annoying as shit. Good swordsman but annoying.”

“How have I never realized him?” You muttered to yourself.

“Probably because there’s a million Hermes kids. Kinda hard to keep track. Plus, since you train with the…” she paused to do her best impression, which was just a high pitched squeal. “Aphrodite kids, you don’t see them much.”

“Huh.” You murmured.

“Are you gonna stand there gawking all day or are you gonna actually go up to him?” she asked you. You sighed, looking over to him again. You thought for a moment before shaking your head.

iiii. Tryin' to catch your eye from the side of the ballroom. Everybody's dancin' and the band's top volume. Grind to the rhythm as we wine and dine

“Oh, seriously, you’re not gonna live a little?” One of your friends asked, coming up to you.

“I’m good.” You shook your head.

“You’re coming.” She told you, and before you could even protest, she dragged your hand and dragged you to the dance floor. You sighed, shaking your head as you slowly began to move to the music, your friends wildly and loudly cheering you on.

A smile on your face, you glanced back at the boy in the corner, your smile faltered.

V. My sister made her way across the room to you. And I got nervous, thinking, "What's she gonna do" She grabs you by the arm, I'm thinking "I'm through.”

It was then that you noticed Clarisse go over to him, tired of your gawking and ogling, even on the dance floor.

Vi. Then you look back at me, and suddenly I'm helpless. Oh, look at those eyes, oh, look into your eyes, and the sky's the limit. I'm helpless, I know down for the count and I'm drowning in 'em.

Your eyes widened, and you pushed yourself out of the crowd, watching her grab his arm and point over to you. His eyes snapped from her small form to you, a soft smile making its way onto his face.

Your eyes looked into his from across the room, both of you seemingly lost in them as Clarisse slipped away from Luke and made her way back to you. But you didn’t even notice.

You knew at that moment, that you loved that boy with all your heart. You didn’t believe in true love at first sight until you felt it.

[sie-rui]

Can you do Baji and Draken reacting to their s/o being a street racer?

❀ GOTTA GO FAST | TOKYO REVENGERS 🤍 baji keisuke, ryuuguji ken 💿 gender neutral, second pov (you/your), fluff, established relationship, au - everyone lives / nobody dies, timeline: highschool, imagine 📅 june 28, 2021 🎙️ to think that when i wrote this that i didn't even have a license. rereading it three years later, now with a license. 🔗 masterlist ,, version: 01, 02

truthfully, they should have expected that their lover had a side to them as well. they just didn't think that you were a street racer. it explains your driving.

. . . BAJI KEISUKE

Baji had always known that you had money. Like actual money, and a great amount at that. It was just in the way you carried yourself. Also because he saw your Acura NSX from Japan which is hella expensive and you don’t even have a license. (Granted that he also didn’t have one and he started riding his sweet ride at eleven.)

It was sleek dark grey and gathering dust in your garage but Baji heard its exhaust purr quietly, like a whisper, before and was tempted to just snatch the supercar under your nose. It was the perfect car for winning races! And also for showing off.

He just didn’t expect to see the same car speeding past him at ten in the evening as he walks home from another Toman meeting on a lazy Saturday.

Baji blinks, completely freezing and wondering if he was just imagining it but another car passes by, a navy blue Lexus, and Baji is convinced that he really did see the first car whiz past him, barely missing him. He wasn’t aware that there was such expensive cars in Shibuya except yours-

Baji rings you up immediately.

“Pick up, pick up, god, Y/n please pick up.”

The third try and there was still no reply, sending straight to voicemail with your silly voice greeting him cheerfully.

Baji makes his way to what he assumes as the finishing point, Shibuya’s map already in the forefront of his mind as he slips in through dark alleyways. There was a giddy smile on his face but worry was behind it.

He’s a goddamn gang member, he wouldn’t mind much if you’re a street racer, but it’s dangerous? What if you got into an accident? Why didn’t you tell him? Jesus, what if you got arrested? Maybe that’s why you’re not answering??

Baji finds himself south of Ebisu station by the train tracks and closed Yebisu Garden Place. Cars were parked everywhere along with tens of people walking around, passing cash as to whoever won the bet. The lone Acura was in the very center, a familiar person leaning on it, grinning slyly as two adults talked to them, gesturing to the car wildly.

Baji ignores the looks sent his way, especially those directed at his Toman uniform. The whispers immediately quiet down and that was enough to catch your attention. “Yo,” he coyly calls out, making his way to you, raising a brow at the males who were just flocking over to you.

“Dammit, I knew I didn’t imagine passing by you,” you murmured but Baji laughed in response, having heard. You tilt your head to your car, eyes lightly twinkling. “Get in.”

Everyone backed off as Baji made his way to the other side while you took the driver seat. You rolled down your window, exchanging a few words with someone who seemed to be in charge, mostly about when the next race is and more compliments to your driving.

It wasn’t long before you were backing out and driving back to the highway, humming.

“Y/n…”

“Hm?” You slow your pace, looking at him with a nervous smile.

“You’re hella amazing, you know that.”

Blushing red, you look back in front in case there were other cars on the same road. “Shut up, you don’t even know if I won.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugs, still with that silly grin. “Will you teach me how to drive though?”

“...Is that what you were after from the very start.”

Baji only gives you a triumphant laugh.

. . . RYUUGUJI KEN

It was by complete coincidence that Draken finds himself straggling around Yoyogi Park, holding a plastic bag of dorayaki with him. Dragging a hand to his face, he can’t help but groan and blink sleepily.

It was eleven in the goddamn evening and his brain thought it was amazing to surprise Mikey with dorayaki early in the morning tomorrow because he was in a bad mood earlier after having a fight with Takemichi. Those idiots. But he’s more idiotic here. Why the fuck did he end up in Yoyogi? He was supposed to be stopping by the nearest konbini so why is he in Yoyogi fifty minutes later.

“I must be tired…” He mumbles. Of course he’s tired. It’s eleven in the goddamn evening and he had to deal with Toman earlier in the day. Tired and insane, everyone had driven him to insanity at this point apparently.

Ken stands by the entrance of the park, wondering if he should just go and catch a train. It would be the last train by this time and he really doesn’t feel like sharing his space with at least three more people with how packed the last train gets. Not only that but he probably won’t arrive at the nearest station, Harajuku, in time with the rush.

That’s when a car sped past him with a loud purr of the engine and low headlights. “What the fuck…” Barely a second later, another car passed, blending in the dark with its color making Draken do a double-take. “That first car…”

Wasn’t that Y/n’s older brother’s Subaru BRZ?

The only reason he ever remembered it was because you wouldn’t shut up about it. If Draken has this addiction for motorcycles, you had yours with your cars, especially since your older sibling was a drag racer-

Shit, that was a street race just now wasn’t it?

Draken once more brings up his hand to his face, closing his eyes and just sighing. It could have been anyone else’s car but Draken can never forget that white pearl color and that sweet low sound the exhaust made.

You turned seventeen recently but still didn’t have a license so it couldn’t be you, right? (Ha! He doesn’t have a license as well but lookie here.) Maybe it was your brother…

“Fuck it.” Pulling out his phone, he dials your number. It only took a few rings before you picked up, the background noisy as muffled chatter surrounded you. You were still a little out of breath but Draken could sense the lightness in your tone, as if you were just coming down from an adrenaline high.

He knew it immediately.

“Can you pick me up? I’m by Yoyogi Park’s entrance and I think you just passed by me a few minutes ago,” he casually says, hoping to whoever is up there that he isn’t wrong because he really doesn’t feel like walking back. The weight of the bag of dorayaki reminds him of his stupidity and all he wants to do is to eat it in frustration.

“Uhh- Yeah, yeah, sure, of course, I’m on my way,” you repeat quite a few times, a little nervous and suddenly sounding so awkward and serious at the same time which is honestly, if this was a different situation, a hilarious mix.

You hang up soon after and Draken only had to wait for a mere five minutes for the familiar car to come back, smoothly stopping right in front of him, window rolled down. “Hey, Ken, get in.”

He withholds a sigh of relief, carefully opening the car door with a click and stepping in. The moment he shuts it close, you step on the throttle, starting slowly before picking up your pace, not even stopping to ask for his address just like how he had your place memorized by heart.

“So… street racing huh…” From his peripheral vision, he saw you flinch a little, an awkward smile on your face. “Not that it’s bad. I mean, yes it is. It’s illegal. But I'm the Vice President of a group of delinquents being a menace to society.”

A small pft left your mouth as you start to grin in amusement, grip on the steering wheel a little lighter. “You know, I can teach you how to drive if you would teach me how to ride your bike.”

This time, it was Draken who let out a small snort. “You may be a great driver but I saw you try my ride before and it was very clear that you would be ending up in a ditch.”

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

fuck I still haven't done the rewrite of the Mutant Town AU that I specifically came off hiatus to write, like the Plant Witch Sam and Pharaoh Tucker posts were written to prep this au and I just got wildly distracted so uhhhh

yeah the concept is in the link but the gist is that the people and town becoming mutated by constant ectoplasmic contamination, we all know and love this concept right but I'm gonna expand on it

this is a direct result of the portal being opened, but they aren't getting infected from the portal, the issue is that creating a permanent opening into the ghost zone has weakened the veil between their worlds and Amity Park and the Ghost Zone sort of slip in and out of each other constantly

and because ectoplasm responds strongly to emotions (poltergeists being made from atmospheric emotions for example) it all tends to converge very heavily at the school full of hormonal teenagers

so Casper High becomes its own god damn cryptid, the teachers get so jaded about opening the door to a classroom and finding just a whole ass ghost zone on the other side that they just put a sign on the door telling kids to go to a different room, lockers swap contents with other lockers so kids have started putting their names on the inside so they know who's stuff they've just found

this also means the kids get super affected, like super affected, literally, they all get ghost powers, some are just physical mutations, some are just super abilities, or a general increase in natural ability, like a member of the track team getting super speed

it takes a while for Danny and co. to figure this out, Sam and Tucker should have been warning signs as they've spent the most time around ghosts and the ghost zone, but that's why the Witch Sam and Pharaoh Tucker posts are important

they have powers, but they thought they came exclusively from outside sources, they had no idea that their abilities were also strengthened and influenced by being highly contaminated by ectoplasm, which is why when one day Mikey sneezes and green acid shoots out of his nose and melts his desk, everyone is a little bit startled

the teachers have long since started using ghost detectors after the time Paulina spent a whole week overshadowed by Kitty, so Mikey gets a check over and other than the usual atmospheric reading Lancer gets nothing especially strong from him

there have been concerns about the gradually increasing ectoplasmic content in the air messing with ghost detector results, the devices have to be recalibrated constantly, so Lancer asks the one and only son of the local ghost hunters in the room if he has some other way to check

Danny's parents make him keep a few protective items in his schoolbag, so he tries some gear on him to see if anything comes flying out, but nothing does, Danny isn't too surprised seeing as he couldn't sense a ghost in the room anyway, but it definitely makes things a little concerning

even if it were a repeat of the Spectra incident and he wasn't being overshadowed, the Fenton's tech would have still gotten rid of whatever was causing this if it were an external influence

Mikey is sent home for the day and his parents are told to keep an eye on him

and then the next week, Star drops a pen off her desk and a strand of her hair whips out to grab it, she's also checked for ghost influence and sent home

a few weeks after that it happens again, a kid on the basketball team makes a leap to the net and stays in the air, they have to call in the cheerleaders to climb on top of each other to reach him and pull him down

Danny has been trying to figure out what's happening from the first moment with Mikey, and his parents have also been getting calls from worried parents who want to know if they can fix whatever's happening to their kids

over the next couple of months, every kid in the school has some kind of ability or mutation, Dash heals whoever he touches, which he discovers after punching Nathan in the face and curing his acne, Paulina turns invisible, which freaks her out at first until she realises it's great for eavesdropping, Wes can conjure fire (because I desperately needed him to have a polarising ability to Danny), Kwan becomes empathic and can feel and influence people's emotions

Valerie also had an early mutation that she didn't know about, when Technus gave her a new suit, her body pretty much just absorbed it as a part of her, Technus had not intended this to happen, and was pretty peeved about it, Valerie found out that she had stolen control over the suit when Technus had a big rant about it during a fight, and she put the pieces together once other kids started developing abilities

this whole thing causes a ton of chaos as kids are struggling to control what they can do, so Danny has to step in and help them out, he often has to run off to change into Phantom in order to protect everyone from an ability that's gone haywire, he ends up pretty much running ghost power training courses after school to help them control themselves

he's also gotten stuck in situations where he's had to step in and help someone without having the time to change forms, meaning he has to make up a cover story about having developed his own powers way before everyone else since he's been living on top of a portal for years, he only tells people about his ice powers

Jazz has always had a tendency to be able to reign in her emotions and keep a cool head, (the only ones who can really push her buttons are Danny and sometimes her parents, at school around other kids who look up to her she's often very in control) meaning she doesn't draw ectoplasm to herself all that much, and though Danny uses the excuse of having lived on top of a ghost portal to explain why he's already so familiar with using his power, it's actually not even remotely true, because the Fentons use specialised air purifiers to keep the atmospheric ectoplasm at a manageable level, the Fenton house ironically has the least atmospheric contamination compared to the rest of the town, that's how Maddie and Jack have had limited mutation to themselves (though they aren't wholly free, they've mostly just gotten physically stronger and tougher)

so even though Jazz develops her power a little earlier than everyone else's, it's not that far ahead, and she actually doesn't even realise she already has one until half the school has developed theirs

Jazz has the power to slow time in a little bubble around herself, she'd been using it without realising while studying, having gotten through hours of work in half that time, she always thought it was just her losing track of time or she was just getting faster at reading, she also spends a lot of time counselling other students and trying to help them sort out their problems, and they'd often comment that they felt like they'd been talking for so much longer than they had, again she just chalked it up to losing track of time

a lot of students had wondered why Danny developed a power early and Jazz hadn't, until someone walked in on Jazz helping a girl through a panic attack in the bathroom, and found them both talking extremely fast, a lot of her friends realised in hindsight that she'd been doing that unwittingly for quite a while, nobody had noticed because she always talked to people privately, so nobody outside her little time bubble had seen it happen

Sam and Tucker come clean about their abilities too, but they also don't give the full rundown, still keeping some things close to the chest to avoid standing out from everyone else

then there's the teachers

adults typically have a better time regulating emotions than teenagers, meaning much like Jazz they aren't drawing as much ectoplasm toward themselves, but this doesn't exempt them from developing something after a while, especially with the heightened stress of managing a school full of volatile super kids

Mr Lancer discovers that he can create shields, after an incident where he jumps in front of some students to protect them from another power gone awry

Tetslaff ends up with a sonic ability, able to project her voice like a megaphone (yes this is a Coach Boomer from Sky High reference don't @ me), Principal Ishiyama develops a physical mutation, growing to twice her size, she likes that she can tower over the students while delivering speeches, but she doesn't like having to stoop through doors all the time, she has the one to her office resized, along with her chair and desk

so as you can imagine, the town ends up erupting into chaos, a lot of kids very much misuse their abilities, Danny does his best as Phantom to teach people to be responsible, but sometimes he has to resort to literally kicking their asses to get them to straighten up

but for the most part, a ton of kids were already looking up to him, and are generally pretty happy to follow his example, especially the more popular kids, it's generally considered not very cool to get your ass kicked by Phantom, so weirdly enough a lot of kids get peer pressured into not causing any real damage or injury with their powers

this doesn't mean they don't absolutely misuse them, they're just more subtle about it

until a ghost shows up, a lot of the kids are more than happy to let loose to protect themselves and their friends, and Phantom for the most part is happy to let them, with some supervision of course, he still has to make sure nobody gets too hurt (including the ghosts)

the entire debacle makes Danny's life simultaneously a whole lot easier AND so much more fucking stressful

[debiteful]

Okay so this one is based on an anon request I got. A particular detail made me uncomfortable, but otherwise the concept was solid. If you want elaboration on my feelings on that, you can ask, but I don't wanna bog down the story with that ramble ^,....,^'

A wereboar discovers a human living beneath their floorboards. This person is in exile and being hunted; to make matters worse a very tough person is hunting this human. The good natured wereboar decides to help the human evade capture.

Content: soft, safe protection vore, panicking prey, willing human prey, boar-human hybrid pred, belly bulge, fearplay, threat/false claim of digestion, regurgitation, comfort afterward

Tuki walked up their front steps, feeling the familiar creak of boards beneath their feet. The bungalow stood alone in a woodland clearing, the perfect place for someone like Tuki to live. Isolated, yet close enough to civilization to get the supplies they needed.

Once inside they let their loaded sack fall to the floor. They knelt and began going through it, sorting the things within; food went to one side while fabric went to the other. Behind them, they heard a rustling noise. Very slowly they stopped rifling through the bag and listened. Their nose twitched and they snuffled curiously while slowly turning their head.

Something was scraping against a floorboard over there. Had to be big, a rat wouldn't sound like that. Maybe a raccoon? Looking around, Tuki could see one of the cabinet doors was open in the kitchen. That little thief!

The homeowner crept across the floor as quietly as they could. Unfortunately, stealth was not their strong suit. Their weight made the floorboards groan with every step.

The rustling went quiet. Tuki bent low and sniffed at the floorboards with little grunts. They had to be getting close. The scent of some creature wafted up; it didn't smell like racoon.

"Hey!" They called gruffly, "Get out here you vermin!"

A soft whimper and hasty scrabbling from below the floor was the only response. Tuki growled and leapt to their feet. In a flash they were out the door and scrambling under the cabin. Leaf litter and dirt kicked up as the creature tried to hurry away. Tuki crawled on their belly, moving arm over arm with surprising speed thanks to bulky muscles.

As the creature became silhouetted by the daylight on the far side of the cabin, its pursuer frowned. That almost looked like a person… 

Tuki stopped and called, "Hey! I won't hurt you. Wait!"

It froze. They could see a head swivel and bob while it tried to get a look at them. They approached slowly.

The creature backed out from under the house, sunlight revealing its form. It was a human! Mud streaked their ashen face and twigs stuck from their unkempt hair at odd angles. They kept taking steps backwards, eyes trained on the crevice where Tuki would emerge.

By the time they were free to stand, the human was halfway to the tree line. They brushed themselves off and stood by the back of the house, "Hey! I said I wouldn't hurt you. You look like you could use some help. I- well I don't like that you stole some food, but you clearly need it. Come inside and I'll help you."

The frail person tilted their head one way, then the other. Big, dark eyes glittered as they considered the offer. They seemed human, but right now they reminded Tuki more of a yearling doe. 

Tuki held out their hand, "Come here! I promise it'll be okay."

They blinked, then approached. Tuki let their arm fall and turned towards the front of the house. They didn't need to look back to sense that the bedraggled human was following a short distance behind.

Inside Tuki was able to heat some water so they could bathe. While they did, the host picked out some of their own clothes that might fit. An oversized shirt made a dress-length tunic for the human. Then they set to cooking up some warm food; they could tell it would do them good.

Over the meal, Tuki managed to gather that his name was Lark, and he was hiding from someone. He was vague about that, as if worried Tuki would change their mind about being so hospitable if they knew. Sensing the reluctance, they didn't press the matter. 

After even this small bit of care, Lark was looking much better than he had been. His cheeks had a warm, healthy glow, and his hair was hanging in loose curls just above his shoulders. He looked a little silly in the large shirt, but at least it was soft and clean.

A loud knock at the door rang through the cabin. Lark jumped and spilled the soup he had been sipping from a bowl. His eyes were wide with alarm, and suddenly his whole body shook.

Tuki stood to answer the door but he darted over and grabbed at their arm. "No! Don't!" He hissed, looking up with pleading eyes.

They frowned down at him, "Why not?"

"They're here for me; they'll hurt me. You gotta hide me somewhere- somewhere they won't find me!"

Their frown deepened and they cast a worried glance around the simple dwelling. The only room besides the main area was their bed and bath room, but that didn't exactly have any hiding places. If he could get back under the floor, then maybe- 

Another flurry of knocks rapped at the door. This time it was accompanied by a warning voice, "Whoever is in there, open up or I'll have to come in myself!"

Lark trembled and clung to Tuki's arm. His wordless plea was all across his face. Their face softened and they whispered, "Do you trust me?"

"I- what? I have to; if you have a plan, then do it!"

Tuki nodded and gently removed him from their arm. The human watched with a creeping dread as before his very eyes his host's shape shifted. Their face elongated, sharp tucks sprouting from between their lips. Their stubble lengthened and hair thinned, becoming thick bristles. Ears lengthened and flopped, and their form filled out their shirt better.

Beady black eyes full of concern gazed at Lark from that monstrous face. His host wasn't human; they were a were-boar! 

He sucked in a shaky breath and fought the urge to turn and run. Filled with desperation, he knew flight was not an option.

He squeaked as their powerful hands grabbed his slight shoulders and lifted him. His feet reflexively kicked a little as they left the floor. Their jaws opened wide, saliva hanging in thick strands that trembled with their hot breath. The humid air washed over his face as he screwed his eyes shut. Terror pricked at his belly and sent his heart racing as he felt a slobbery tongue rise up to greet his face.

Their maw shut around his head and shoulders gently. Even if he wanted to cry out, he couldn't, smothered by wet flesh as they crammed his head down their throat. They swallowed; it was a sickening feeling to have those powerful muscles constrict around him.

He could hardly feel their hands grasp his hips now and heave him deeper in. His legs kicked wildly and he fought for air through the panic and slime. His whole body became completely enveloped in rippling muscle and coated in saliva as he slid downward.

Tuki wiped their mouth with the back of a hairy hand while the other slid down to support their swelling belly. They felt their gut stretch as their hastily gobbled prey slid down and was forced to curl. Their stomach walls were taut and smooth around Lark's quivering form. The bulge of their belly strained against their shirt, making it ride up a little. It wasn't very inconspicuous, but it would have to do. 

They plodded over to the door just as whoever was outside turned the handle. The door swung inward to reveal the would-be intruder, a hulking man carrying a baton in one hand and clutching the short leash of a massive dog in the other. The beast snarled and snapped at Tuki, but they held their ground. The man looked surprised, but a snear took over, "There you are, you dumb brute! You couldn't hear me knocking?"

Armed and with that vicious dog, Tuki knew they couldn't fight. Especially stuffed full like this. They would have to talk their way through this. "I could," they said crossly, "but I was finishing my dinner when you so rudely interrupted."

"I have important business, more important than you stuffing your face, pig."

Tuki narrowed their eyes, "What is it then?"

"I'm on the trail of a dangerous fugitive who is an enemy of the state." At that Lark squirmed inside their belly nervously, but went still as the man continued, "I tracked him here, intending to apprehend him so he can be exiled permanently."

The dog was straining against its tether, sniffing with interest at the threshold. Its master didn't spare it a glance, stone-cold eyes fixed on Tuki and club raised menacingly. They replied, "Well I haven't come across anyone dangerous." 

"He's a sly curr, might not seem dangerous. Have you seen any strangers around here? Heard anything odd?"

"Hmmmm," Tuki said, weighing their options. They scratched at their belly, drawing up the shirt to reveal the rounded bulge sagging over the waist of their pants. "There was this one little fella, big doe eyes. He stole some food from me," the anxious squirms started up again, making their protruding gut wiggle. "So I ate him instead!"

"You what?" The man snarled. Slowly his gaze drifted down to their taut stomach, and horror crept into his eyes at seeing it move. He looked back at Tuki with disgust, "You ate a man?"

"Hardly a man," they shrugged, "More of a vermin. I'm not too picky though," they said with a smirk.

Seemingly at a loss for words, he just gaped at the wereboars belly for a while. Then he looked past them, into the house, "I'm going to have a look around, just in case." 

"You won't find much," Tuki gloated, patting their belly. A burp rumbled up and escaped loudly. The dog sniffed the air then bayed and reared up to investigate their snout. They laughed and the man dragged it away and into the house by its leash.

Tuki kept a wary eye on the two invaders while they leaned against the threshold. Lark still hadn't settled down, his body writhing within the flexible limits of the stomach. Little muffled grunts could barely be heard above the gurgling fluids shifting around him.

The dog barked with savage excitement as it found Lark's dirty clothes. The wash water had already been drained away, leaving little explanation. The man hooked the tattered clothes with a finger and brought them to Tuki, "Whats this? Is it yours?"

"No, you're welcome to it. I took those filthy rags off that human before I devoured him. I have some standards," they huffed. 

The man eyed their still moving gut, "You ate him alive?"

"Of course! Killing is so messy, I don't like to do it in the house. Besides," they leaned in with a ghoulish grin, "I like to feel them squirm as I digest."

Lark flailed as best he could within the cramped confines, but the real reward was the brief widening of the intruder's eyes at that comment. He scowled, "Can't you spit him up? I have a job to do."

Offended, Tuki leaned back, "What? And waste a perfectly good meal? No, you were too slow. He's mine now. Besides, it's not like he's going anywhere. Just tell your master you did it; how're they gonna know any different?"

He considered, then trudged past the wereboar, hauling his dog along, "Fine. But if I get in trouble, don't think I won't send someone after your hide too!" 

"I expect nothing less from a scoundrel like you."

He froze and clenched his cudgel. Tuki dearly hoped he wouldn't try to use it. Thankfully, that was the case, and he stomped off without another word.

Tuki shut the door and locked the bolt into place, just in case. They went over to their chair and sat down heavily. Their belly bumped against their legs as Lark continued to wriggle frantically. His whining could be heard by Tuki, and their heart lurched. The poor creature must be terrified. If only they had had more time to explain.

They got up and hurried to get a towel, then went to their bedroom and stood infront of the bed. They heaved, and with great effort Lark slid up and out of their stomach. He landed on the towel laid out to catch him and lay there shivering. Before he could scramble away, Tuki shifted back to their human form and bundled him up in the towel. He fought against the warm folds of cloth weakly before realizing he wasn't in danger. The wereboar sat on the bed and cradled the swaddled human in their lap, using a corner of the towel to wipe his face and hair. 

He looked up with wide, tearful eyes, "You…." He couldn't find the words.

They hugged him tightly then gave an apologetic stare, "You're quite the mess, again. I didn't know what else to do. He would've found you if I hadn't-"

He cut them off, "I know. I know. It's just- the things you said, they were terrifying. Especially from, well, in there," his eyes flicked meaningfully to their belly.

They nodded and continued to clean him up carefully. He relaxed into their hold, inhaling the fresh air deeply.

Neither of them spoke. Both of their minds independently wandered to the same, simple question: what next? Neither of them had the answer right now.

[your-highnessmarvel]

From Bleak to Bright Part Six

All other parts on on my masterlist, link provided below.

AN: damn okay wow i REALLY loved writing this part ommggggg

Warnings: angst, language

Enjoyed this and want more? Send in your requests!

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MASTERLIST

PART SIX

You went to bed late, tossing and turning, replaying Loki’s words in your mind like a mantra. He couldn’t eat too. He suffered just as bad as you did. You fell asleep somewhere around two in the morning, clutching your sheets. The dreams took you back to him, momentarily dropping you in a reality you knew could never exist when you woke up. 

The sky was a deep purple - like a bruise - when you woke up. You lay there, staring at the ceiling. You knew sometime during the day Steve and Nat and probably Bruce would listen to the call from Loki last night. You groaned just at the thought, sighing under the covers. 

You got up and showered, mentally preparing yourself for the day. When you got out, there was a missed call from an unknown number. You entered the contact as Idiot, then opened up the messages to text him. You weren’t sure if Loki had bought a burner or a full phone, but you tried anyway.

Stop calling me.

You didn’t wait for an answer. You got dressed in a green hoodie and black jeans, pulling your hair into a ponytail. 

Your phone dinged.

Do you prefer we talk here?

Oh so Loki had an iPhone. Texting in blue texts and all. 

You debated answering, wondering if it would just spur his insanity. You left your phone in your room, deciding that it would only be a distraction. 

You went down to the kitchen, eating breakfast alone, enjoying some peace before the storm. 

And here it came.

Bruce came barreling through the dining room, eyes round, wide, fear written clear on his features. 

“Loki called you last night!?”he exclaimed, leaning over hands on the table.

That was quick. “The line’s tapped,” you answered, fighting a blush, gulping down the last of your cereal. “And he didn’t say anything about where he was or whatever.”

Bruce sighed, hanging his head. “Did you do what Nat and Steve trained you for?”

You shrugged. “He saw me coming.”

“That was to be expected.”

You struggled with the lump in your throat, fighting the want to go to Bruce and wrap your hands around his shoulders. Tell him everything would be fine. That Loki would never get you. 

But you weren’t so sure about that. 

Instead, you sighed, playing with the last Cheerio floating in the milk. “Bruce,” you began, biting the inside of your cheek. “How - how am I going to do this?”

He looked at you, all that older brother worry written clear on his face. “It’ll be fine,” he said, covering his hand with yours. “We’ll all be there to back you up. He won’t hurt you.”

It came out all in a rush. “But that’s not what I mean. What am I going to do about the fact that he’s my fucking soulmate?” You heaved, fighting tears brimming in your eyes. 

Bruce stood there silently, then took a seat, dusting off imaginary dust from his dark blue t-shirt. “Y/N,” he started, voice low, serious. “The soulmate bond is... the research proves that it’s mostly based off the animal instinct to provide better genes to your progeniture.”

You frowned. “Ew.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s what the science says,” he chuckled, trying to hide the reddening of his cheeks. “And I know that there are stories out there about people finding their mates and it all goes well, but sometimes, it doesn’t. Nature gave you the most perfect match for yourself, but evolutionarily based, it’s all about babies.” 

“Oh my God, Bruce, stop being so gross.” You played with your cereal, fighting your blush. You didn’t want to imagine yourself making babies with Loki because then, that’d be all you thought about. You didn’t want to go there. 

“My point is, little sis,” he continued, tone soft. “You don’t have to fall in love with him. You don’t have to do anything. Trust me. You can get over the bond.”

Nat had told you that you simply got used to the emptiness. Wouldn’t that make you... miserable?

There was a burning in your chest, spreading slowly like melting butter down your limbs. It was longing. 

Bruce got up without a word and left you to your one-Cheerio bowl and coffee. You stared out the window, at the greying sky, the rising sun, the freedom of the world beyond the trappings of the Avenger’s compound. 

Nothing kept you, really, from leaving. There was no law keeping you here. You could actually walk out and find Loki. You weren’t the criminal. 

He was. He was a war criminal. A psychopath. A mass murderer. You could leave here, go find him, tell him you’d stay by his side, but at what cost? Losing your family? Your friends? A normal life? It’s not like Loki would play the good boyfriend and bring you coffee at work. He’d burn the place down for a stupid reason like they didn’t give you enough vacation days. 

All this thinking had you boiling at barely nine in the morning. 

And the one person you wanted right now was Loki.

You cleaned up your dishes methodically, then rushed back upstairs to your room. The sun was now out and shining through your windows, and you used the light to gather a few items into a bag. There was no one in the hallway, which gave you all the peace you needed. Most of the Avengers were out dealing with whatever Loki had unleashed on the city, and the other half, like Nat and Bruce, were downstairs in the computer lab.

You grabbed a baseball cap and loosed out your ponytail. You grabbed your phone. Heart pounding, knowing you must have less than fifteen minutes before you were found, you sent a quick text.

Number. Now.

It took a few seconds until a reply came in. It was a phone number. You quickly scribbled it on the back of your hand, deleted the messages - even though you knew it was futile - and left the phone on the bed.

Something wild was stirring in your chest, something akin to adrenaline. Your blood roared as you leaped out of your room, quietly down the hall, down the stairs, hands trembling as you exited the front door. 

If only Nat and Bruce were here, it could give you a head start. 

You slid into the garage through the side door and took the keys to the Jeep. It was a thirty minute ride to the city, and you were not about to take the Maserati.

You slid into the Jeep, breathing erratic, and threw your bag into the passenger seat. The second the garage doors were open, you sped out. 

The Jeep wasn’t the most fast car, but it took you the edge of the property in a matter of seconds. You’d never driven like that before; wild and fast, but you had to get away as fast as possible. The country turned into the suburbs, blurring by you, but you only had eyes for the distant, gleaming horizon of New York city. 

You kept looking in the rearview mirror, but no one was tailing. A frantic tremble had begun in your fingers, urging you to press just a little more on the gas pedal. 

When the city began to manifest itself, molding out from the horizon, you ditched the Jeep by the side of the road. You left it visible enough and grabbed your bag, hitching it on your shoulders. Leaving off at a small jog, you left behind not only the Jeep but also the life you could have had if you’d never met Loki. 

There was a tenacious voice reminding you that Bruce would suffer from this. 

But the pull in your belly, deep within your chest, was calling you elsewhere.

You made it through the back streets of the city, slowing your pace to a walk. By now, Nat and Bruce would have noticed you gone. They would have seen the message you’d sent to Loki and his response. Maybe they’d try contacting that number, but you knew for a fact, Bruce would be in a car on his way here. The Jeep definitely had a tracker. 

You went into a Deli Meats, catching your breath in the doorway, your heart hammering vehemently in your chest. 

You asked to borrow the phone and they had a fucking honors system so you bought a sandwich and dumped it in your bag. No appetite. 

The phone only rang once before he answered.

“Where are you?”

“I’m in New York,” you answered, breathlessly.

“Have you been running?”

“Obviously.”

There was rustling on the other side of the phone. “They know you’ve left,” he said. “They’ve tried tracking this number.”

“And did they succeed?” you asked, heart in your throat. 

“No.” He inhaled sharply. “I want to trust you, y/n,” he mumbled. 

“Then come and get me,” you replied, your mouth dry, your heart hammering. “I’ll meet you wherever.”

He laughed, more like a hum than a chuckle. “Okay.”

He gave you an address on the other side of town, and told you not to call a taxi or an uber. He said if you made it there on foot, without any intervention by either the Avengers or your brother, he’d know they hadn’t found you. Or that you weren’t being followed. He had eyes everywhere. 

You thanked the clerk and left in a hurry, mentally replaying Loki’s instructions on the directions. Just the sound of his voice had been a relief, like taking a long, deep breath after being under water for so long. 

Something sharp had lifted from your ribs, where there’d been an imaginary knife twisting. 

The day had warmed, the city had awakened, and there was no way to identify you within the crowds moving steadily. You kept your eyes to the ground, the cap low on your brow, your hair around your face. 

The address Loki had given you was a subway’s sandwich, squeezed between a Moroccan restaurant and a hair salon. You frowned. Was this the right address? It was closed, the sign hanging in the door, the lights off in the store. 

You pulled on the door slightly, and it opened, your heart leaping as a wind of fresh air swept against your hot cheeks. 

Stepping inside, the eerie silence greeted you. No one was there. Only silence and the dark store. A fridge where they kept the cold drinks hummed, the blue light beckoning. You went to it, ripping it open wildly and grabbing a water bottle. As you chugged it, you pulled a rolled dollar from your pocket and put it on the register.

“No need for that.”

You jumped, spilling water all over your green hoodie. With a curse, you set the bottle on the counter and grabbed for the napkins. 

“I’ve got it.”

He was close now, and you could smell pinewood, your senses invaded by him. You looked up. He smiled, his lips pulling gently at the corners. Your heart was hammering wildly, but you swallowed, looking down at him as he looked down at you. He wore the same all-black ensemble as two weeks ago, his short raven locks pulled neatly behind his ears.

He was a specimen. 

His hands, which you swore were previously empty, came up with a green t-shirt. “More fit for the current weather,” he said with a quirk of his brow. 

You licked your lips, carefully reaching for the garment, fingers grazing his. A short shock slithered through your arm. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled, feeling heat crawl into your cheeks. 

You motioned for him to turn around, and with a roll of his eyes, he did. You quickly changed, discarding your hoodie in the trash. Once you were done, he turned and took one good look at you.

“Wow,” he said, making your heart sputter back to life. 

“So, what now?” you asked, both to dispel Loki’s current fixation and to actually know what was the plan. 

He straightened. “I have to get you out of the city.”

“Okay,” you breathed. “Where?”

But he didn’t have time to answer. Something came crashing through the front windows, loudly, sending a million little shards of glass flying. As quick as lightening, Loki came rushing to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, shielding you from the tiny little projectiles. 

You felt the heat of him, the pressure of his arms, his front against yours, your cheek against his chest. You smelled him everywhere. You sensed him on every inch of yourself. He invaded your senses, and for a brief instant, that nagging pull in your belly ceased. 

And as quickly as he came, he vanished. When you opened your eyes, fingers trembling, the smell of him clinging to you, he had changed his attire. The illusion previously placed on him, the one of the elegant man dressed in all black, had made way for the God. 

Long, golden horned-helmet on his head. The same green and gold breast plate, the black trousers. And in his hand, a golden staff, the tip gleaming menacingly, a blue light hovering within it’s extremity. 

Standing before you both, on the glittering pieces of the broken window, was Thor and Tony. The former stood in the light of day, his hammer raised, light gleaming off of it threateningly. Tony stood, arm erect, suit gleaming red in the mid-morning sun. 

“Nice work, kiddo,” he said, the helmet coming undone, revealing his face; stricken with fear and concentration.

Loki turned a glare on you, eyes dark, and your insides burned. Tony was making it look like you had a hand in this. That you’d betrayed Loki.

You opened your mouth to say something, but Loki took one step towards you and grabbed your wrist.

Thor roared something like, “Loki no!” But Loki was faster. Quicker than Tony’s blast you heard charging, quicker than Thor’s hammer. In a flash, the tip of Loki’s staff glowed a clear, crystal blue, and your entire world vanished to black.

SO, WHO’S EXCITED FOR PART SEVEN???

tags:  @subtlemalice @yallgotkik @buckyandlokirunmylife @kaz11283 @legolas-bromance @shylittlemountain @tofeartheunknown @feelmyfckngsoul @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @caffiend-queen @tomhollandsslilslut @lady-loki-ren @nathan-no @rosaline-black @abundanceofcarolines @my-own-oracle @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @marvelouslovely @drbaureid @bored-as-hell-666 @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @theinfinitenerd @toe-vind-ek-jou @ink-and-starlight @blank-bakabane @sunshineonloki @holaamishamigos @palegoopbearlight @heyarely16 @pleaseexecuteme 

[dreamerstreamer]

Friendly Figure

Pairing: Fundy x gn!reader (can be read as both romantic & platonic!)

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] While Fundy may have had more than his fair share of poor fatherly figures, he’s more than grateful to have you.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: this was requested by an anon who wanted a story surrounding fundy’s life story within the smp! this ended up being a fun combination of a character study with an actual story, and i loved it. i hope you enjoy, as well!

You waved your arm eagerly as you sank your teeth into another bite of delicious pumpkin pie. “Bye, Niki!” you called out between muffled chews. “Thanks for the pie!”

A few yards away, you saw her wave back, raising a hand to cup her mouth as she yelled back. “You’re welcome! I’ll see you two tomorrow!”

You sent her one last wide grin before turning on your heel, twirling your fork in your hands as you set off down the path once more. Niki really did make the best pie.

You hummed as you watched the sun dip below the horizon, the sky painted with fading streaks of salmon and lavender. Beside you, Fundy grumbled, his ears flicking atop his head in annoyance as he eyed the plate in your hands. “Why did you get an extra slice and I didn’t?”

You raised a brow at him, shooting him an unimpressed look. “Because you didn’t ask, nimrod.” Pointing your fork at him, you scoffed. “If you did, I bet Niki would have handed one over, no questions asked.”

He wrinkled his nose, at you a scowl stretching across his face. “‘Nimrod’?” he parroted. “You’ve been hanging out too much with Karl.”

You stabbed your fork into the pie in your hands, watching as the crust crumbled delectably onto your plate. “What can I say? He’s nice!”

Fundy looked appalled. “And I’m not?”

You stared at him, blinking for a moment, then shrugged, a teasing glint dancing across your eyes. “Eh. You’re alright, I guess.”

He glowered, raising his arms as you took a cautionary step back. “Why, you little—”

“Fundy!”

You and Fundy both stopped dead in your tracks, your fork dropping onto your plate with a clatter. Your eyes met, and a mutual look of discomfort passed between your gazes.

You would recognize that voice anywhere.

Slowly, the two of you turned, your gazes landing on a familiar worn yellow sweater, the cloth fraying at the edges after years of wear. In front of you, you could only stare as Ghostbur jogged up to Fundy, his dark, near-translucent eyes glimmering with hope.

Fundy coughed, trying and failing to hide the discomfort growing on his face as he offered a small wave. “Uh, hi, Ghostbur.”

Ghostbur’s pale lips curled into a frown, his brows furrowing. “Why the long face?” He leaned over, gently elbowing Fundy’s side, missing the way his son stiffened at his touch. “Aren’t you excited to see me?”

Fundy lurched back, clutching at where he had been touched. “Not really.”

Ghostbur let out a small whine, his shoulders drooping. “Aw, come on. Why don’t we have some father-son bonding time together?” He sent him a goofy grin, his eyes twinkling with nostalgia. “You know, just like the old days.”

You heart ached at the pain that flickered across Fundy’s face, his ears pressing flat against his head. There were no father-son bonding times when Wilbur was alive—at least not the kind that ended with actual bonding.

Fundy shuffled back a bit, and you instinctively took a step closer to his side. “No thanks,” he muttered softly, averting his eyes to the ground. “I’d rather not.”

Ghostbur’s smile faltered, and something sad flashed through his gaze. “Ah, um, w-well, maybe we could catch up?” A tinge of desperation seeped into his tone, and he lifted a shaky hand toward him. “I haven’t seen you in a whi—“

Fundy raised a hand, and Ghostbur fell silent. “I’m good, thanks.” He offered him a smile, but it was strained and didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I actually think I’m gonna get going now. Bye.”

Before Ghostbur could even think to respond, he dropped his hand, whipping around and striding away. You blinked, your head still reeling with everything that had happened as you watched Fundy walk off. Tightening your grip on your plate, you took a step forward to follow after him when a quiet voice stopped you.

“[Y/N],” Ghostbur said, his voice coming out small.

You stiffened, then turned, swallowing as you sent him a wary glance over your shoulder. “Yes, Ghostbur?”

The moment his name left your lips, you froze, your jaw going slack. The light had left his eyes, and he only stared down at the ground with a vacant gaze, his hands limp at his sides.

You’d never seen Ghostbur look so... sad. So miserable. He looked defeated—broken. Then again, maybe he was.

Did Fundy really affect him so much?

“Please,” he said softly, so quietly that you could have mistaken it for a breeze. “Please tell me.”

He raised his head, and a pang of sorrow ran through your heart as he took a weary step toward you, his hand gripping at the fabric over his heart. “Where did I go wrong? What did I do to make him hate me so much?”

You blinked at him, pondering, then glanced down at the half-eaten slice of pie on your plate. A frown skittered across your face. You didn’t have much of an appetite, anymore. Sucking in a deep breath, you looked back at him.

“Ghostbur,” you said, “just like how there are some things we cannot change, there are some wounds we cannot mend, no matter how much we try. Your relationship with Fundy is one of them.”

He frowned, a sour gleam flashing in his ghostly eyes. “That’s not fair. I don’t want him to hate my like this forever.”

Something bitter rippled through you, and you snapped, “What you did to him wasn’t fair either, Ghostbur, but there’s no fixing that now.”

He flinched at your sudden shift in tone, and you almost wanted to apologize. Almost. Swallowing, he dropped his gaze to the ground, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “Was I really so cruel?”

You stared at him for a few long moments. Then, you opened your mouth, and what came out was tasted like ice on your tongue.

“Yes. You were.”

Before you could feel even a grain of pity for him, you flipped around on your heel, striding off in the direction Fundy had left. How dare he be so upset that his son hated him when he was the one who made it so. You had seen it all, had seen every despicable choice he made as he chose to neglect his son, as he chose to abandon your best friend.

You couldn’t pity him—you would not allow yourself to.

Taking a shaky breath, you squeezed your fork a little tighter as you made your way down the walkway in search of Fundy. You already knew where he was—of course you knew. What kind of best friend would you be if you didn’t?

The sun had long set by now, and above you the stars twinkled like tiny, flickering candles. You trudged along the dark path, accompanied only by the moon’s soft light before you suddenly veered off the trail. Pushing past the low-hanging branches of the forest, you finally stepped up onto the cliffside, spotting Fundy sitting with his back leaning against yours and his favourite tree back from when you were little.

With a small twitch of your lips, you walked up to him, watching as his ears flicked in your direction. You could never surprise him, as much as you may try, so you simply settled into the space next to him, setting your pie down next to you. He was staring out over the forest below, his legs dangling freely off the edge. You tilted your head at him, then spoke.

“Hey, bud,” you said softly, your eyes scanning the somber look on his face. “You doing alright?”

His gaze flit to yours, then back over the cliff once more. “Sort of. Ish. I guess.”

You sent him an unconvinced look, and he paused, then let a loose sigh escape his lips. “No, not really.”

Leaning back, you offered him a weary smile. “Yeah, I figured. That chat with Ghostbur didn’t go over so well.”

Slowly, he pulled back his legs, curling them up to his chest and resting his head atop his knees. “I know he means well, but it just makes me feel sick, the way he talks to me. It’s not his fault, I know, but I...” He swallowed. “I—“

“It’s okay,” you murmured, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

He sent you a thankful grin, then his smile fell. Scooting back a bit further, he looked up at the stars, his expression thoughtful. “You know,” he said suddenly, “my experiences with dads has been kind of awful.”

You blinked at him, stunned, then blurted, “You just realized?”

He laughed, his ivory grin glinting in the moonlight. “No, but I think talking to Ghostbur today really got me thinking about it more.” His tail flicked behind him. “Growing up, I always felt like I just had to please Wilbur—like I had to be the best for him.” An almost hopeful look overtook his features. “After all, I was his little champion, right?”

He bit the inside of his cheek. “But he never paid any attention to me. He was always focused on fighting wars and becoming president and—“ He sucked in a deep breath. “—and then he died.”

He furrowed his brows, and you could practically hear his train of thought speeding forward. “Looking back, I can hardly remember a single good thing he did for me. I mean, he wasn’t so bad when I was a baby and stuff, but when I needed him most, he was just...” He paused. “...gone.”

Suddenly, he whipped his head up and turned to look at you. “And then don’t even get me started with Eret. You know, I trusted him.” He held up a hand, gesturing wildly as his tail stood up straight. “He was actually nice to me, [Y/N]. He listened to me and gave me good advice, just like a real dad would. Then the papers came and... and... nothing.”

He stopped, his voice dropping to a tiny whisper. “Again.”

For a moment, he was silent. Then, he let out a long, bitter laugh.

“Oh,” he said, his tone growing wistful, “nothing’s changed, has it?” He ran a hand through his messy hair, his eyes growing glossy in the moonlight, “I’m all alone, just like before.”

Just like that, your heart snapped into two, and you opened your mouth. “That’s not true, Fundy.”

The look he sent you was full of nothing but pure anguish. “It is, isn’t it? I’m just the forgotten son—“ He held up two fingers. “—twice over, now. No one wants me, no one at a—“

Before he could finish, he was cut off by you barreling straight into him, knocking him flat onto his back. Your arms caged him in as you panted over him, your eyes vividly scanning his as he stared at you in shock.

“Fundy,” you breathed, desperation soaking your words, “listen to me. You’ve changed. You’re stronger now, more resilient, and I see that.”

Slowly, you snaked a hand up to rest against his face, your palm pressed against this cheek. “I want you, Fundy. I’m here with you—I always have been, and I always will be.”

Your gaze hardened as it bore into his, steadfast and true. “And as long as I’m by your side, you will never be alone.”

He blinked up at you, his lips parted in awe. Then, ever so slowly, a smile, small but sincere, spread across his face. “Thank you, [Y/N],” he whispered.

Crawling back, you reached a hand out toward him, your smile widening as he grasped it in his. “Anytime, buddy.”

With a grunt, you pulled him forward until he was sitting upright once more. “You know what?” he said abruptly as you let go of his hand.

You cocked your head at him, your eyebrows knitting together. “Hm?”

Fundy flashed you a bright grin, lopsided and goofy in all the right ways. “Who needs a father figure when I have you?”

Your eyes widened as you sputtered, “W-What?”

His gaze suddenly grew serious. “You’re all I need. You’re like...” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “...my friendly figure.”

A few seconds passed in silence as you blinked at him. Then, you burst into laughter, not missing the way his tail bristled at the sound. “Fundy,” you wheezed, “that’s a horrible name.”

He shot you an irritable look. “Well, do you have a better one?”

Your laughter slowly came to a halt, and your eyes crinkled at the corners. “Yes,” you said. “A best friend.”

He looked at you for a moment, then smiled back. “I like that one better.”

Suddenly, you turned, reaching out to your side. “You know what’s even better than that, though?”

His ears twitched. “What?”

When you turned, you held a familiar plate in your hands, a giggle threatening to bubble out of your throat as you took in his shocked expression. “Some pie.” You shoved a fork in his face—a new one. “Here, we can finish it together.”

He sent you a quizzical look, disbelief clouding his features. “Since when did you have a second fork?”

Without missing a beat, you stabbed the new fork into the soft, flaky dessert and held it up to his lips. “No questions. Only pie.”

He blinked at you for another moment, then grinned, opening his mouth wide for you to shovel some pie in.

You really were all he needed.

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts

--/--

Part 1:

You’re not sure what you’re looking at.

He’s covered head to toe in soot, knocked out cold and hardly moving against the railing of your balcony. There’s an unsettling slump to him, and his costume creases as heaving, rattling breaths leave his lips. There’s blood soaking his clothes, dripping from his nose and onto the concrete. When you call out to him, his eyes flutter briefly beneath his eyelids, but other than that he’s entirely unresponsive.  

You know who he is. Dynamite. Bakugou Katsuki. He’s a burgeoning pro-hero, just hardly starting out, but he’s already climbing the ranks. Anyone with a TV had been watching his highlights for years now.

What you don’t know, is what villian sent him hurtling onto your balcony; or if that villain was still hanging around- either way, you realize you’ve got to get him inside. The mid-winter cold was already biting at your skin, and you figured he couldn’t have been doing much better. 2 AM was certainly not a optimum time for finding yourself unconscious, after all. 

Shivering slightly, you loop your arms under his and begin to tug him inside your apartment. You find very quickly that his dead-weight and ridiculous muscle mass make the job a lot harder than it needs to be. It feels like you’re deadlifting an elephant, and when you finally shut the door behind the both of you, your thighs burn from the effort. 

A part of you wonders if all the exertion was even worth it, but that quickly fades with one look at his costume. You briefly wonder if you’ll get a medal for saving one of Japan’s beloved heroes- after all that heavy lifting, you sort of feel like you deserve it. 

You begin adjusting his limbs, pressing him flat against the floor and tipping his head back. The bleeding in his nose seems to be slowing, but you don’t want to take any chances. You tip his head a little further to the side, hoping it’ll be enough to not let him choke on the blood. The nerves begin to settle in; you’re not sure what to do now. You were hoping he’d wake up on the way in and direct you from there, but hat didn’t happen.

As it looks now, Dynamite wouldn’t be directing a single thing any time soon.

Your fingers itch. The familiar burning begins, and you flex them in your gloves, wondering just how bad of an idea using your quirk would be. 

Bakugou did look pretty hurt, and even without all your years studying medicine, anybody could tell several of his bones were broken. Not just that, but one of his ankles was lolling grotesquely. When you get a closer look, you find tiny bits of bone threatening to burst through the thin skin- his ankle has shattered completely and you’re sure he’s got to be in shock. Pain like that would take just about anyone out. Even a pro-hero.

You sign in frustration, kneeling next to him as you try to make a decision. The itch in your hands is telling you to use your quirk- to help him, but it’s not that easy. Your quirk is all encompassing, and exceedingly powerful, but it doesn’t discriminate. It will try to lessen all of his hurt, physical and mental, and you don’t want to pry into his business. If you try to help him now, you won’t only feel aftershocks of his broken bones, but you’ll get flashes of his memories too. It’s invasive, uncomfortable, and damn near uncontrollable; you really don’t want to have to resort to that. 

Sighing once more, you slide your phone out of your pocket. You’re not really sure who to call, but you figure the Hero Public Safety Commission is a good start. You’ve barely been connected to the main line, before you feel a hand drop heavy onto your thigh.

“Fuckin’- stop. Fuckin’ phone. Stop.” He grunts, half-lucid and slurring. His face screws up in pain as he lifts his arm to bat at your phone. “That’s a- fuckin’ order.”

“It’s alright, I’m calling for help.” You soothe calmly, suddenly glad for all of your emergency aid training. You lean back, phone held out of his reach as the operator tells you to hold. “You’re alright. I’m getting you help. You’ll be okay.” 

“No- fuckin’ stupid! You don’t get it! Stop. Don’t call them.” 

Then he’s surging upwards, and all you can see is his pupils blown wide and his angry expression. His palms are cackling and you’re shrinking away instinctively, but he’s not after you. Bakugou grabs the phone out of your hands, running off of nothing but fumes and adrenaline, and chucks it across the room. Then he grunts in pain, coughing as he flops back, boneless onto the ground. 

“Why- what the hell? Oh my god-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou bites out, his breath rattling in his chest. His voice is weak and raspy, but his eyes are steely and intense. He looks pissed. “Jesus fucking christ. I told you. So shut up, you fuckin’ dolt, it’s your own damn fault.” 

You first instinct is to scream, to yell and screech and berate him for shattering your phone. The rage boils thickly under your skin, only boosted by his irritated sigh, but then you remember your training. People in shock were generally disoriented, and it wouldn’t necessarily be a stretch to assume they could be irrationally angry. 

All it takes is one look at Bakugou’s blown pupils and rising goosebumps, and then you sigh. He’s in shock. You’ll decide to give him a pass. 

“S-stop fuckin’ starin’. What the fuck, are you even-” He slurs suddenly, words hardly forming around teeth suddenly beginning to chatter. “Why the hell is it so cold? Hah?!” 

“Not cold. You’re in shock.” You say calmly, doing your best not to make any sudden movements. “But it’s alright. I’m a nurse. I can help you.”

Your words seem to miss him completely, and he just tracks your movement with wide eyes and quick breaths. His legs are twitching and you watch him try to move his ankle, see the panic rise in his eyes when it’s unresponsive. He tries again, scrambling up on his forearms as his chest heaves. He’s spiraling, quick, and you need to help him calm down. Soon. Or he was going to pass out again. 

With gentle hands, you press against his shoulders until he’s flat against the wood again. Bakugou tries to fight at first, gasping for air, but you’re stronger. He tips his head back to look up at you, near terror clouding his eyes. 

“I’m not going to hurt you. You’re alright. I’m a nurse.” You reassure him once more, before slipping your jacket off your shoulders slowly. “This is just to keep you warm, alright? Just a jacket. I have to try stabilizing your temperature before anything else.” 

“Can’t- I can’t,” His voice is rising, words bitten out and angry as his eyes dart around the room. “Where the fuck did you take me? This isn’t- let me go! I’ll fuckin’ blow you to hell, bitch!” 

Bakugou’s words are scary and harsh, his palms crackling wildly at his sides. He’s very injured, nearly paralyzed by all his broken bones, but that doesn’t seem to be stopping his quirk. You didn’t want to use your own quirk, but at this point it’s seemingly the only option. You need to get him to calm down, to bring him out of his shock before he blows your entire place up.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, allowing your hands to fall on his arm. Normally you’d try to activate your quirk directly on an injury, but as it stood now Bakugou was just one giant broken bone. You could feel him trying to shake you off, so you just hold on tighter as you focus.

You begin to shiver, all your bones vibrating in your skin as you take on his pain. It starts in your toes, an almost inconceivable pain that runs searing trails of lava through your marrow before it settles behind your temples. His physical pain manifests as a room-blurring, white-hot migraine, but his mental pain hits you a million times harder.

You’re seeing flashes behind your eyelids- flashes of yelling and screaming and bright orange-red explosions, every snap-shot moving so fast that it nearly rips the breath from your lungs. You screw your eyes shut, groaning in pain, as your head falls forward. There’s rage boiling your blood, and suddenly it feels like you’re on fire. Like you’ve always been on fire and all you can do is yell and scream and itch at your skin until it peels away. Until the broiling heat is released and your don’t ribs feel like a prison anymore. Until every breath stops feeling like it’s eating away at your throat.

The itch in your fingers starts again, but this time it’s different. It has you balling your hands into fists and shaking as the anger suffocates you. All you can see is red, red, red.

Then it stops. Everything stops and your fists uncurl, and suddenly you’re scared. You’re terrified like you’ve never been before, heart seizing in your chest. It skips a beat. Picks up. Skips a beat, picks up. 

You’ve never felt anything like this before. This isn’t shock, you’ve felt that before, and it isn’t concussion fog either. It’s something dormant, pulsating strong and steady beneath all his current afflictions. The feeling is dark and smothering and intense like nothing you’ve ever known before. He’s miserable. Bakugou is utterly miserable and angry, and you’re sure you weren’t supposed to feel that. 

You tear your hands away from Bakugou, falling backwards onto the floor without grace. Your heart hardly begins to slow, hardly begins to settle, before you hear him groaning next to you. When you look at him, his eyes are more alert and his teeth, thankfully, have stopped chattering. Unfortunately, his pupils are still blown and he looks just as freaked out as before. You’re starting to think that maybe he also has a concussion.

“What the fuck did ya do to me? Hah?” He gasps out. “What kinda fuckin’ quirk-“

“I call it Alleviate.”

“I don’t give a shit what you call it! Felt you in my fuckin’ head! Who the fuck said you could pull that-“

“I’m sorry.” You cringe at his yelling, rubbing at your temples as you sit up. The headache from earlier early fades, but it leaves bone-deep exhaustion behind. “My quirk targets and lessens all pain- physical and mental. I can’t choose which one. I was just trying to help.”

“I didn’t fuckin’ ask for your help!”

“I know. I’m sorry. Again.” You wince, scrunching your eyes shut. You felt woozy and weak, just like you always did after using your quirk. “It’s just- you were in shock. You were gonna blow my whole apartment up. I had to.”

You answer washes over Bakugou like a bucket of cold water. You watch him still where he lies, fingers twitching at his sides. A beat passes and then he’s shifting again, nostrils flaring in annoyance when he can hardly sit up. 

You watch his face contort in pain once more, and suddenly you’re not tired anymore. The feeling reminds you of working at the hospital, and you find the urge to help him much outweighs your own exhaustion. You’d push through it- just like a graveyard shift at work. 

“Now, I’m going to need you to take a deep breath for me, and try your best to relax.” You say in an even tone, holding steady eye contact. “You’ve got a lot of injuries, and you need to lay back down. You’ll just exacerbate them if you keep moving.” 

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do- I’m fine! I’ll be good, jus’ need a few fuckin’ minutes,” He huffs, but then he falls back again once more. You guide him with you hands gently, intent on making the impact as painless as possible. “Now get out of my fuckin’ face.” 

“If I thought you would be fine by yourself, I would.” You snort, leaving his side to gather your phone and some pillows from your couch. You slide one pillow under his head and the other under his ankle gently, doing your best to be delicate. “But you aren’t, and you need help. I know what I’m doing. I’m a nurse, and I’ve done this many times, so trust me and try to relax, alright?” 

“Relax? I can’t fuckin’ move!”

“I know. All I can do is help with the pain, I can’t heal you, but-”

“That’s a shitty fuckin’ quirk.”

“It actually isn’t; not in my line of work, at least.” You say indulgently, before pressing two fingers under his jaw. His heart is still beating wildly, way too quickly. “Now, did you crash land with a phone on you? Any identification?” 

“You don’t know who I am? How stupid are you?”

“Not stupid. I know who you are- but all those things are important for when an ambulance gets here. You have way too many broken bones to walk it off, so I’m gonna call you an ambulance, alright?” 

“You’re not calling shit!” 

“I have to call somebody for you. I’ve done all I can.” You push on calmly, schooling your features even as exhaustion ebbs at your mind. “Now, if not the hero commission, who do you want me to call for you?” 

He seems to resist for a moment, but then his eyebrows settle. He clenches a fist at his side, sighs, and begins to rattle off a number.

“Put it on fuckin’ speaker.” Bakugou demands, scrunching his face up as you type in the number.

You roll your eyes at his tone, but comply anyway. The phone rings four times before somebody picks up.

“Uh, hello?” The voice asks groggily, thick sleep clouding his voice. “Who’s, uh, who’s this?”

“Oi- Shitty Hair. Clear your fuckin’ throat. Sound disgusting as shit.” Bakugou grits out. “And wake the hell up, I need you to do something.”

“Are you asking me for help?”

“Yeah. Whatever. Shut up about it.”

“I didn’t-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou barks. Then he blinks, pauses a second before adding an afterthought. “Fuckin’ bitch.”

On the other side of the phone, the man sighs something existentially exhausted and put-upon. You think that’s probably an accurate description of what associating with Bakugou is like. At least, that’s what you’ve gathered from this first impression.

“Just- you’re gonna get an address texted to you. Go to it.” Bakugou orders, turning his head to look at you. He squints his eyes, daring you to put up a fuss about his plans. “And bring your fuckin’ car. Do not take the subway.”

“My car? Dude, you hurt or something?”

“Yeah. He is.” You say, holding a finger out to Bakugou so he doesn’t say otherwise. “Pretty badly, too. He doesn’t want me to call an ambulance, but he definitely won’t be able to walk out of here.”

“What? Oh my god. Is he-“

“He’s alright. Don’t worry.” You assure. “I’ve stabilized him, for now, but he definitely needs more help than I can give hi-“

“Yeah! Fuckin’ nurse, my ass, she didn’t do shit for me!” Bakugou interrupts, lips pulled back into a snarl. “Useless quirk bitch!”

You roll your eyes again. If he wasn’t in so much pain, and you hadn’t been used to hearing so much worse at the hospital, you’d kick his ass.

“Sorry. About him.” The man on the phone apologizes, as he sucks in a breath. “Send me the address, and I’ll get there as soon as possible. Alright?”

“Yep. You got it.”

The call cuts, and you send your location to him over text. When you look down at Bakugou, his face is screwed up once more, and he’s heaving shallow breaths all over again. Your quirk must be wearing off.

“Scale 1-10, how much pain are you in?” You ask him.

“Stupid- stupid fuckin’ question.” He seethes through teeth clenched shut. “Not funny. Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m not trying to be funny. It’s a question to gauge whether or not I should use my quirk on you. It won’t be good for either of us if you pass out from the pain again.”

“I won’t.”

“Okay. If you say so.” You say, leaning back on your hands. The exhaustion seeps in again, but you blink away the fog. “But seriously, if it gets unbearable, I need you to tell me.”

“I don’t want your fuckin’ help.”

“Maybe not, but this is pretty much my job, alright? I’m gonna try and make this as painless for you as I can.” You try to soothe, voice light and unassuming. “But, I will need you to keep talking, alright? You have to try and stay lucid.” 

Bakugou glares at you, presses his mouth into a thin line. His defiance is written clear across his face, and you’re sure he’d be crossing his arms across his chest if he could. Maybe even stomping his foot if he could stand. All in all, he reminds you of the pouting children you so often give flu-shots to. The thought makes you smile a bit.

“Fuck you smiling about?” He grumbles suddenly, but his voice is off. When you look down at him, he’s clenching his teeth as his eyes flutter closed.

“No. Stop. You need to keep them open.” You wave a hand in front of his face. “I’m not sure, but you might have a concussion so I need you to stay awake just in case.”

He just wrenches his eyes shut again, before blinking them wide open. When he looks up at you, his eyes are mostly pupil and there’s something stuttered about the way he tracks your movements. You’re suddenly glad all the lights in your apartment are off, you’re almost entirely sure he has a concussion. And not just a mild one, either. 

“Can you remember what happened? Before you were thrown onto my balcony?” You ask, trying your best to keep your voice quiet. 

“Yes. Fuckin’ obviously. I-” His eyebrows lift, and his eyes flicker around the room. There’s a frustrated sigh from Bakugou, and then he just sinks his head further into the pillow. “No.”

“Okay. That’s okay. That’s just the concussion symptoms, no need to panic. Are you feeling okay, right now? Any nausea? Dizziness?” 

“What the fuck are ya? Fuckin’ doctor or somethin’?”

You’re sure now. He’s concussed. Pretty badly too, considering he doesn’t remember the multiples times you’d already told him you were a nurse. You’re briefly impressed that he even managed to remember his friend’s number, but then again you reason, that could’ve been just an unexpected benefit from using your quirk. 

“Nurse. I’m a nurse.” You repeat, before re-adjusting the jacket you had previously spread over him. You pull it up to his shoulders. “Now, I’m sure your friend’ll get here soon, so I need you to just sit tight, alright?”

“Not a fuckin’ kid. Don’t need to be babied.” He slurs, eyes once again shuttering. “Knock it- knock it off.”

You just ignore his comment, focusing instead on trying to keep his eyes open. There’s not much you could do without disturbing his injuries, so you take to patting his cheeks gently. Anything to keep him from falling asleep- you don’t have the equipment necessary to evaluate his brain injury, and you don’t want to be blindsided by a potential seizure. 

“Don’t fall asleep. C’mon Bakugou, open your eyes. I know it hurts, and you’re probably really drowsy, but this is important.” You say again, a little louder this time. “I need you to stay awake.”

When he blinks his eyes open again, he’s hardly there. The effects of your quirk have seemingly completely worn off, and Bakugou’s feeling the full effects of his head injury. He looks confused and disoriented, and when he tries to lift a barely-sizzling palm towards you, his face seizes up in pain all over again.

“It’s okay. You’re good. No need to blow me up.” You smile gently, pressing his hand flat against the ground. Bakugou resists for a moment, before his arm goes slack. “All you need to do is keep your eyes open.”

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door, and you turn away from Bakugou. You watch him wince at the loud sound as you open the door. 

The first thing you notice about Bakugou’s friend is his bright red hair, and his shark teeth. He’s Red Riot, Kirishima Eijiro, and you know exactly who he is too. You breathe a relieved sigh, thankful that you could hand him off to someone you knew was capable. 

“Holy shit.” The man at the door says, suddenly gasping. “Bakugou!”

Scratch that. Kirishima just screamed bloody murder at a concussed person. Maybe not so capable.

“Be quiet!” You shush, ushering Kirishima in as you shut the door gently behind him. “I’m pretty sure he’s got a concussion, so I need you to be quiet. Too much noise is just gonna cause him more pain.” 

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay, got it. I understand.”

“Thanks.” You whisper. 

You lead him over to the sliding balcony door, and Bakugou is right where you left him. He’s almost completely still, looking up at the both of you through lidded eyes. 

“Okay. So, I’m not sure where to send him, but he needs to go to a hospital. He’s got a shattered ankle, a severe concussion, probably a broken nose, and several broken bones, at least. Probably a few cracked ribs too.” You report tactfully. “The good news is, I haven’t seen any symptoms of internal bleeding. That’s great so far, but I can’t be entirely rule it out, so we need to get him to someone who can.”

Kirishima doesn’t say anything, just gulps nervously back at you. 

“It’s alright.” You soothe. “He’ll be just fine, as long as we get him help soon. Now, I’m not sure where heroes go for treatment, and Bakugou isn’t in any position to tell me, so I need you to tell me. Can you do that?”

“Yeah. It’s- we’ve got a med-wing back at the hero complex.”

“Okay. Good. Do they have ambulances that can get here? We really shouldn’t be moving him without a stretcher to stabilize him, and I don’t have one.” 

“Yeah. They do. I’ll give them a call.” 

“Good.” 

Kirishima takes his phone out, as you settle back on the floor next to Bakugou. Bakugou’s barely lucid, but he’s sniffing and then you realize his nose is bleeding again. Upon closer inspection, his nose is definitely broken. There’s nothing you could do about that for the time being, but the blood seeping onto your floors was fixable. 

“Hey, can you make sure he keeps his eyes open for just a minute or so?” You ask Kirishima, nodding towards Bakugou. “I think he’ll probably be fine, but I need to be sure. I’m just gonna step away and get a wet rag. Try to clean up some of the blood as best as I can.” 

Kirishima just nods, taking your spot and dialing a number on his phone. You can hear his voice as you move into your kitchen. 

You fingers itch again. It’s irritating because you’re just tired, not spent, and you could be helping Bakugou a lot more if he’d let you. If he just let you, then you could alleviate his pain and his concussion symptoms all in one go, and waiting for the ambulance would be child’s play. 

But you can’t. Your quirk was invasive enough as a surprise- you wouldn’t purposefully dig into someone’s mind against their wishes.

It felt a little useless to only be wiping away blood when you could be doing so much more, but you ignore the feeling. It takes only a minute or so before you’re walking back to your living room, a few damp dish towels in hand.

“Is he still okay?” Kirishima asks, and you can see the panic in his eyes.

 You quickly come to the conclusion that Bakugou must not be someone who let’s himself get gravely injured a lot. Kirishima doesn’t seem to be used to seeing his friend hurt at all. 

“Yeah. Well, just as okay as he was before I left.” You reassure, settling on your knees at Bakugou’s side. Red eyes lazily slide over to you, and you try to smile something reassuring at him. “Bakugou’ll be just fine. How long until an ambulance gets here?”

“Soon. Should be soon.”

“Okay.” 

Quiet settles over the three of you, as you wad up a dish towel. You dab it over Bakugou’s face, rubbing away the dried blood that dripped down his mouth and neck. You hope it’ll make him a little more comfortable. As much of an asshole as he’d proven himself to be so far, you still wanted to help him. You’re sure he couldn’t be feeling anything other than absolutely miserable as he was. 

“Stop.” Bakugou slurs with barely any heat, scrunching his eyes as you work at the blood that somehow dripped around his ear. “Don’t fuckin’ need it.” 

“Shh. It’s okay. Just cleaning up some of the blood.” You say indulgently, smothering a crackling palm with another damp dish towel. “Just breathe, alright? Help’s almost here. You’re gonna be just fine.” 

“Fuckin’ course I am. Bitch.” 

You snort, dabbing at the bits of dried blood in his hair. Bakugou just blinks at you, confused and disoriented, but still blessedly awake. You press his hair back to get at the skin of his forehead, and you might be imagining it, but you think Bakugou leans into the light touch. 

“He always like this?” You ask Kirishima, laughing slightly in pure disbelief. “He always so angry and prickly?”

“Only on his best days.” 

“It’s- that was funny. Good one.” 

Kirishima’s phone lights up suddenly, and then he’s walking to the other side of the room, taking the call quietly. He faces you with a wobbly smile when he turns back.

“They’ll be here in a minute or so. I told them to just walk up- shit, I probably should’ve asked, right?” He relays nervously, scratching at the back of his neck. “Is that okay? I gave them your apartment number.” 

“Just fine. I don’t feel comfortable moving him, so I’m perfectly okay leaving it up to them. Thanks for your help.” 

“No, thank you. I- well, I’m sure he wasn’t exactly cooperative for you.” 

“He wasn’t.” You huff a sardonic laugh. “That’s alright though, he’s still far from the rudest patient I’ve ever had. Surprisingly.”

Kirishima just smiles at that, and then perks up at the sound of footsteps outside the door. He lets the paramedics in, and they’re crowding Bakugou as you step away.

 It’s quick work, and Bakugou is stabilized on a stretcher in just a few minutes. A part of you wants to help, even more so when you see the blonde mumbling in pain, but you stay back.

Just as everyone is filing out the door, you suddenly find yourself grabbing a hold of Kirishima’s arm.

“If it’s not too much to ask, do you think you could give me an update on him? When he wakes up and is lucid, I mean.” You ask unsurely. “I’m sure he’ll be just fine, but the affirmation would be nice, you know?”

You’re not sure what compels you to ask, especially not when Bakugou had been so prickly to you earlier, but you ask anyway. You tell yourself that it’s just residual nurturing urges from caring for him, but even you’re not sure that feels right. 

A part of you knows it’s because of what you felt in his head. How miserable he was and all the pain festering there- but an even larger part of you won’t admit it.

“Yeah. For sure. I’ve got your number.” Kirishima says, a small smile edging at his lips. “I’ll let you know in the morning. And thanks. Again.” 

“Of course. Tell him I hope he feels better.” 

Kirishima nods, and then leaves, closing the door behind him. Suddenly you’re alone in your apartment, and the silence is near deafening. You hadn’t realized just how loud a presence Bakugou was until he was gone. 

Sighing, you finally let the tiredness seep into your bones. You feel it there, thick and suffocating, dragging your feet as you collapse on your couch. There’s still bloody rags sitting on the floor, and you’re sure you’ve got some on your clothes, but you can’t be bothered to get up. 

You’re out before you know it, the memory of red eyes and white-hot anger playing behind your eyelids.

--/--

hope u enjoyed!!! yay!!  new series!! 

also, a few people have asked me to put a taglist together for my writing, and i’m planning on doing that. feel free to leave a comment if u’d like to be added to the list as well!! 

[soft--dragon]

Giggly Duckling

Based off of this prompt here

Word Count: 1,411

Warnings: None

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

Karl's nervous giggles filled the air as he cowered behind Sapnap's shoulder who was grinning widely. Quackity was watching the screen with wide eyes, trained on the five am that glowed in the corner of the screen.

"C'mon Quackity!" Sapnap gently pushed the man's shoulder, "You can't just lock yourself in the room!"

"Fucken watch me!" Quackity shot back, gripping the controller tightly.

"It's night five man!" Karl encouraged, "you can't run out of power now!"

Quackity's eyes snapped to the red power level glaring at him, sitting at twenty percent. "It's fine!" He shot back firmly.

It was most definitely not fine, but who was Quackity to tell them that? After four run-ins with Foxy, eight with Bonny, six from Chica, and three from Freddy, Quackity was more than content to just lock himself in the control room.

Karl giggled again, noticing the power level drop even further. "You're gonna lose," he warned with a wide grin.

"Shut up" Quackity replied shortly, "It's fine."

"Stop being such a wimp and open the damn doors Quackity" Sapnap argued.

"Fuck you!"

"We're just trying to help man," Karl laughed, "now open the doors!"

He poked Quackity's side in hopes of getting the guy to budge, what he wasn't expecting was for the beanie wearing man to curl away from the contact with a muffled squeak. The three of them stared at each other before Karl and Sapnap smirked and turned away. Quackity didn't like the identical mischievous looks the pair had. He turned back to the screen in time to see the lights flicker and die. He let out a stream of spanish curses, sinking further into his chair and half hiding behind his hands. Sapnap and Karl had gone very still, holding their breaths. The twinkling of Freddy's music made the trio start to make panicked noises, only increasing when the iconic bear himself appeared in the doorway.

Suddenly the screen changed to WORK SHIFT COMPLETE and the sound of children cheering happily. Quackity gave a scream of victory, closely followed by Sapnap and Karl's screeches of joy.

"I DID IT CHAT! I DID IT! LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOO!" Quackity yelled, punching the air in his excitement.

"QUACKITY'S POPPING OFF CHAT!" Karl shouted, wrapping the boy in a hug as he jumped up and down.

Sapnap laughed, clapping as he was pulled into the hug too. "You were so close to dying man!" He cackled.

"Quackity never dies!" Quackity crowed loudly, flashing a grin at the camera.

"Don't go stealing Technoblade's shtick" Karl giggled, "he'll hunt you down like a pig."

"Wouldn't that be ironic" Sapnap chortled, sitting back down. "A pig hunting a pig."

Quackity laughed too then turned to the camera again. He thanked the people for turning up then sent them on their way to raid Niki. They all gave a collective sigh of satisfaction when the cameras had all been turned off. It had been a good stream, their first one together. It was nice.

Quackity yawned widely, turning to look at his friends. "Right, I'm starving and exhausted, you guys chill with me ordering taco bell?"

"Absolutely" Sapnap agreed, then glanced over at Karl. "But first…"

Karl turned Quackity's chair to face him, a grin on the boy's face. "You flinched earlier, what was that about?"

Quackity's eyes widened, having expected the two to forget about that. His face flushed warm as he squirmed in his chair. "I just...I wasn't expecting you to do that."

"Oh?" Karl's grin widened. "You sure it wasn't because you're ticklish Duckling?"

Quackity's face burned. "No?" he replied quietly.

"Didn't sound too sure there, big man" Sapnap said from behind him and before Quackity could register it, Sapnap had grabbed his wrists and pulled them up to his ears, leaving his torso exposed.

Karl giggled, flexing his fingers close to Quackity's midriff. "My my, so much to tickle, you don't mind do you Duckling?"

Though he was teasing, Quackity could hear the genuine question behind Karl's words. He appreciated the kindness the older had.

"Just stop when I say so...please?" Quackity murmured, an anticipating smile already curling his lips.

Karl cooed. "Of course, now, where to begin hmm?"

Quackity watched as Karl's fingers came close to his sides but didn't touch down. Instead hovering close enough to the area for him to feel the heat of Karl's hands. He squirmed in the chair again, pressing back against the material and trying to suppress his giggles.

"Giggling already Duckling?" Karl teased fondly, "I'm not even doing anything yet~"

Sapnap leaned down, his hair brushing the shell of Quackity's ear making him squeak. "Feeling a little ticklish Quackity?" He murmured and sent butterflies fluttering throughout the younger's stomach.

He turned his head away from Sapnap and made the mistake of looking at Karl's hands again that were mere inches from his hips.

"Juhust fuhuhucking do it alreheheady" he giggled, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Well someone's impatient" Karl snickered, "is this really so difficult for you Duckling?"

He dragged a single finger down Quackity's side making the boy curl into himself with a whine, nervous giggles tumbling out of him.

"Yohohohou're beheheing mehehean!* Quackity bit his lip to try and muffle the bubbly laughter.

"Me? Mean? Never" Karl grinned and with a featherlight touch scuttled his fingers along Quackity's ribs, feeling the muscles spasm beneath his hands.

"Kahaharl!" Quackity squealed, pressing himself to the chair and turning his head away from the older.

"Awww, is someone getting a bit flustered? You're getting a bit red there Quackity, is it from some little tickle tickle tickles?" Karl cooed.

Quackity's blush only brightened at Karl's words, shaking his head. "Dohohon't- don't sahahay thahahat-"

Sapnap grinned. "Say what? Tickle? Is that the word?"

Quackity giggled louder. "Sahahapnap" he whined.

Sapnap got a truly evil idea and after some quick eye conversation with Karl, leaned close to Quackify again. "Hey Quack?"

The younger flinched at how close Sapnap was to him but looked at the arsonist regardless. "Y-Yeah?" He stuttered.

Sapnap lowered his voice and whispered "tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle-"

At the same time, Karl's fingers all finally touched down. He raked them across Quackity's belly, vibrating them quickly when they reached the lower abdomen.

Quackity's blush went bright pink, fully convulsing as he let out a shriek, tugging at his wrists still in Sapnap's gentle but firm grip.

"FUHUHUCK! NOHOHOHOHO!" He cackled, tossing himself left and right and drumming his feet against the ground. "KAHAHARL! SAHAHAHA-"

His words were lost in a fit of hysteric, bright laughter. Both lers internally freaked at how adorable their lee was, but out loud they whispered playful teases and praises. Quackity really couldn't tell if he was in heaven or hell.

"Hey Quackity, before we order Taco Bell, I think I'll have a snack right now" Karl grinned and tugged up Quackity's hoodie.

The boy's stomach sucked in on instinct, his giggles heightening as Karl lowered his head to his trembling belly.

"You ready?" Karl grinned.

Quackity took in a breath and nodded excitedly. Karl pressed his lips to Quackity's stomach and blew a quick raspberry to the skin. Tingles broke out along the sensitive midriff at the vibrations making Quackity's laughter squeak and jump up an octave.

"Oooo I'm feeling quite hungry too Karl" Sapnap chucked then blew a raspberry into Quackity's neck, rubbing his stubble into the soft skin.

Quackity tossed his head left and right, bucking his hips wildly at the overwhelming sensations. Karl grabbed hold of his waist, squeezing gently as he blew into Quackity's side. Air escaped Quackity's lungs and he cackled helpleslly.

"ENOHOHOHOUGH GUHUHUYS! STOHOHOHP!"

The pair instantly pulled away, Karl gently rubbing his hand over Quackity's stomach and Sapnap releasing his wrists and brushing his hand through his hair. Quackity melted under their soft touches, his laughter tapering off into quiet giggles.

"Was that alright?" Karl asked.

Quackity nodded, smiling widely. "Yeheheah, it wahas greheheat" he murmured through honey sweet giggles.

Sapnap and Karl shared a fond look. "Ready for Taco Bell now Quack?" Sapnap asked softly.

The boy nodded, lifting his arms and Sapnap gently picked him up off the chair. "Mind ordering?" He asked Karl.

"Sure thing" Karl smiled, pulling out his phone. "Take him to the lounge and find something to watch, I'll be out soon."

Sapnap nodded and headed out of the recording room, leaving Karl to track down Taco Bell's number.

[remedialpotions]

Off The Train

Thanks to @mertronus for tagging me in the HPRomione Discord Popcorn game thingy! The prompt she gave me was: "I can finally see you."

I'm tagging @acnelli with the prompt: "You can't just keep pretending things are fine!"

***

”I can’t wait until you get off that train,” says Ron, his voice low and lazy with fatigue, “and I can finally see you.”

Hermione shifts in her bed so she’s lying on her side, mirror held out before her. This way, she can pretend - if she squints a bit, and ignores the crimson hangings of her four-poster bed - that he’s lying next to her, and not hundreds of miles away in London.

“What do you mean, ‘finally’?” Hermione, too, keeps her voice quiet. It won’t do, in her final days as Head Girl, to be waking her dormmates. “You’re looking at me right now.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same. I can see you, but I can’t touch you, or...” The corner of Ron’s mouth twitches up into a crooked smile. “Or do anything else for that matter.”

“Right. Well,” she says, trying to infuse positivity into her voice, despite the weeks since the Easter holidays dragging into what felt like months and years, despite missing him so much that it’s like a heavy fog surrounding her. “It’s only a couple more days, right?”

“Can’t it be now?” Ron looks like he’s reclined in bed too now, his fiery hair stark against the deep navy of his sheets. “Just get to Hogsmeade, then you can Apparate-“

“You know full well that I cannot,” she replies briskly, even though it’s tempting, really tempting. “It’s-“

“-behavior unbecoming of a Head Girl,” Ron finishes her sentence. “I know. I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you too.”

“I love you,” he adds after a moment’s silence, before his eyes widen with inspiration. “Oh, I’ve got it. What if I Apparate to Hogsmeade, and then walk to the castle - I bet Hagrid would let me through the gates-“

“It’s only two days, Ron.”

He sighs. “Fine.”

“And I love you too.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I know.”

•••

Pigwidgeon is the last owl to fly into the Great Hall, his little wings beating wildly to keep him aloft. With a scrap of parchment clutched in his tiny talons, he struggles over to the Gryffindor table before somersaulting down into Hermione’s lap.

Hermione’s heart sinks, and not just at the sight of the exhausted little bird currently burrowing into the crook of her elbow. Their two-way mirrors mean they don’t usually have to resort to writing letters. Not unless...

Hermione, the parchment reads when she unfolds it. Got called on an emergency mission. I’m not allowed to tell you where or why or even how long but I’m hoping it won’t take too long. I’m still going to be there at King’s Cross, because I’m dying to see you and I can’t wait until all this is over and we can just be together. Anyway, I love you and try not to worry too much. I promise to do my best not to die.

Ron

“Oh, good,” comes Ginny’s voice from beside her, and Hermione turns to see her peering intently at the parchment. “He’s promised not to die, that’s a relief-“

“He’ll be there,” interrupts Hermione, tucking the note in the pocket of her robes before Ginny can further infringe upon her privacy. “If he thinks it’ll only take a day, then I believe him.”

Ginny blinks. “I never said he wouldn’t be.” Plucking Pigwidgeon from Hermione’s lap, she offers him water from her goblet. “I’m sure he knows what he’s talking about.”

“It’s probably just a quick day trip,” Hermione rationalizes, eyes focused hard on Pigwidgeon as he drinks so she doesn’t have to see the sympathy she knows is etched on Ginny’s face, “and he just wanted me to know in case - well-”

“In case he dies?”

Ginny’s attempt at a joke falls flat.

“Well, just in case, you know, something were to - to happen,” Hermione stammers, “and anyway, it’s just good for me to know - I like to know what he’s up to - not in a controlling way or anything, just-”

“Of course,” Ginny interjects bracingly. “I’m sure he just wanted you to know, that’s all. I’m sure he’ll be there.”

Hermione picks up her mug of tea and holds it close to her face so the steam washes over her. She knows what they’re both thinking but are unwilling to say: that in the year Ron and Harry have been Aurors, neither has had a mission run shorter than a week.

•••

And so Hermione sits with Ginny and Luna on the train, watching the Scottish Highlands slowly transform into the low, tidy hills of the English countryside outside her window and hoping against hope that Ron will be there on Platform 9 and ¾. But she hasn’t heard from him since that first letter, and his mirror has gone dark. This doesn’t worry her - not for his safety, anyway - but it does make it difficult to share in Ginny’s gleeful anticipation as the train pulls into King’s Cross.

She busies herself with tending to Crookshanks, who is furious about his prolonged confinement in his basket, as Harry and Ginny embrace on the platform. It’s not that she’s upset, not really. Ron is doing what he needs to do, and she would never want him shirking his responsibilities just so he can kiss her on a train platform for the first time since April. She just wishes things could be different.

After Harry and Ginny depart for Grimmauld Place, she flags down a taxi and rides alone to her parents’ home. The family car is parked in front, which is unusual for a weekday, but when she goes inside, she finds her parents have been eagerly awaiting her arrival and can hardly let her set down her trunk before whisking her away to an upscale restaurant in South Kensington.

“So, tell us about school,” says Mum with an eager smile once they’re seated at their candlelit table. “How were your exams? I want to hear everything.”

“I will later,” Hermione replies, raising her brows and tipping her head pointedly in the direction of the waiter currently pouring red wine into their glasses.

“Oh, right, right, of course. Well, anyway, dear,” she begins as the waiter sets down menus and strides away, “your father and I have a little surprise for you.”

It’s foolish, she knows, but her mind leaps instantly to Ron. Maybe all of this business with his mission has been a ruse, and he’s here in London after all, and she’ll be able to come up with an excuse to spend the night at Grimmauld Place…

Until she notices that her parents are still talking, and there’s no tall, lanky, red-haired wizard to be seen in this high-end French restaurant, but there are three Eurostar boarding passes laid out across the tablecloth.

“Sorry,” says Hermione, shaking her head to clear away the daydream, “what’s going on?”

“We’re going to Paris!” announces Mum with delight. “We thought it would be so lovely to spend time together since you’ve been away for so long, and you’re about to start your new job - and I know you’ve always wanted to go there. We’ve got ten whole days, and everything’s booked, so all you’ve got to do is pack.”

“That - that’s - that’s brilliant,” Hermione musters, forcing her lips into some semblance of a smile. Her parents beam so brightly back that it’s almost difficult to look at them. “Erm, so when are we leaving?”

She crosses her fingers under the table, praying they’ll say August, or her birthday in September, or Christmas, anything but-

“This weekend!”

Of course.

•••

Paris is beautiful. It exceeds every single one of Hermione’s expectations. She and her parents consume copious amounts of bread, cheese and wine, they visit museums and cafes and old bookstores, they ascend to the top of the Eiffel Tower and take in the view. She thinks of Ron constantly as she walks the cobbled streets, as she crosses the Pont des Artes and sees the countless locks affixed to its railing. Before she left, she sent Harry an owl to tell him that she was leaving, so Ron would know where she was if he returned home before she did. As they can’t communicate when she’s staying in a Muggle hotel, she truly has no idea where he is, but she tells herself that he’s still on his mission. It feels better that way, imagining that even if she stayed in London, there would still be obstacles keeping them apart.

On their last day, she nearly empties out a patisserie buying eclairs and macarons for Ron, and then they board the Eurostar back to England. Nervous anticipation grips her stomach as the train barrels through the tunnel (idly, she wonders if Ron’s dad is aware of this train that travels underwater, and makes a mental note to tell him), because she has no idea what awaits her back in London. What if Ron’s still away? Or worse - what if something’s happened to him, and she’s been off enjoying a holiday while he’s been suffering?

The train can’t move quickly enough. Hermione can focus on nothing - not the paperback romance novel her mother has loaned her to read, not the Muggle newspaper that her father is engrossed in, not even the argument of the couple seated across the aisle from them. It’s only a two-hour trip, so why does it feel like it’s taking days?

She checks her mirror, but it’s still dark.

“You go ahead, sweetheart,” says Dad when the train finally rolls to a stop in St. Pancras station. “We’ll get the cases.”

Hermione looks up at the luggage rack over their heads, then at her parents. “Are you sure? I’ll bring mine-”

“We can manage. Go on ahead, get some fresh air.”

She doesn’t bother reminding them that train station air is hardly fresh, and instead heads down the aisle with just her purse and the box of pastries in tow. Truly, she’s not sure why her parents have sent her off the train without them; with the station as busy as it is, they’ll surely lose track of each other.

But then she sees him. Standing a head above the crowd, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his bright blue eyes scan the throngs of travelers. At first, she doesn’t believe her eyes. Surely, she’s just become so desperate to see him that she’s actually begun hallucinating.

But as she draws closer, he doesn’t ripple into nothingness, he doesn’t fade away. He’s really, truly there, his red hair curling behind his ears, one knee jiggling with pent-up energy the way it always does when he’s particularly impatient. As he turns his head, still surveying the crowd, their eyes lock and the rest of the station recedes into the background. Finally, they’re within sight of each other after months of hushed mirror conversations and stolen moments borrowing Professor McGonagall’s Floo. Hermione picks up speed, nearly skipping across the concrete in her haste, and flings herself into his waiting arms.

She fits against him perfectly. The fabric of his faded t-shirt is soft against her cheek as she breathes him in, and for the first time in recent memory, words fail her completely.

The box of pastries thuds to the ground.

“Hi,” he mutters, lips brushing her skin and sending chills up her spine.

“How - how did you-”

“Harry told me where you’d gone.” He presses a kiss to her cheek, and then, at long last, their lips connect. “It’s not that hard to look up train schedules.”

As reluctant as she is to pull away from him, she leans back just enough to look up at him. Behind the freckles scattered across his face, his cheeks have gone pink. “You’re amazing,” she tells him, rising on tiptoe for another kiss, unconcerned with the passersby and the blast of nearby train whistles.

Ron lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug when they break apart. “Had to meet you on a train platform somehow.”

[eideticmemory]

PERFORMANCE | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: You film a sex scene with Matthew Gray Gubler, and have a big urge to try it off camera.

Word Count: 2,953.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, choking, 18 year age gap between adults.

You filmed the sex scene in one take.

The cool air trailed over your bare breasts as you laid against the bed, Matthew’s torso between your legs, his lips on your neck. You had never done a sex scene before, but you knew it shouldn’t have felt this good. You knew your moans should’ve been fake, your facial expressions exaggerated, your body working in an absentminded rhythm. But you found yourself trembling, weak, releasing breathy moans into his ear. All from the feeling of Matthew creating friction between your legs. In an unscripted moment, he gropped your boobs in his hands, and the force sent your back arching. You became so focused on the sensation of his body, the heat trapped under the duvet cover, and his lips as they pressed against yours, the eyes of the crew were drowned out - long forgotten.

When the director yelled “cut!” you pined for Matthew’s lips, the sudden loss of them leaving a bitter feeling in your stomach. Holding eye contact with him, you allowed him to help you out of bed. He promptly handed you your robe, and you couldn’t help but watch as he began to put on his own. Your eyes raked down his body, studying his skin, his torso, his chest, his hips. Your arms folded over your chest to hold the clothing in place, you quickly removed yourself from set and disappeared for the rest of the day.

It would be hours before you got over the feeling. The intensity, the passion, and the pure embarrassment of allowing to let yourself get carried away. It was silly to think a man, of Matthew’s status and age, would find a way to express any sexual attraction towards you. It was wildly unprofessional of you, not to mention completely inappropriate considering the 18 year age gap. But, fuck, you couldn’t help but think about it.

After a substantial amount of time locked away in your dressing room, you finally gathered the courage to head out and head home. You kept your head down as you went to exit the set, eyes trained on your feet. Headphones in, you weren’t sure someone had called your name, but you still stopped in your tracks. When you turned around, one earbud in your hand, you saw Matthew, racing over to you. 

“Hey,” he smiled. “You going home?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Tired.”

“Aw, man,” he sighed. “I was hoping we could, uh, run some lines together? Prepare for tomorrow’s shoot? But if you’re tired, then—“

“I’m not tired,” you interrupted him. The words flowed from your mouth before you could catch them. “We can run lines. That’s-that’s cool.” 

He gave you a soft smile, his eyes peering into yours. “Awesome. My trailer?” 

You gave him a speechless nod, still attempting to catch your breath at the sight of him. You followed him into his dressing room, with him opening the door for you to grant you entrance. You stepped in shyly, and set your bag down on the couch. 

“Nice place you got here,” you said.

He closed the door behind himself and laughed, “Thank you.”

You dug your script out of your purse and sat down beside the accessory, flipping through the pages awkwardly. “So, what scenes did you want to rehearse?”

“How about,” he whispered, holding his own script in his hands. “Our second love scene?” 

You cut your eyes up at him, your breath caught in your throat, “You teasing me?” You pouted.

“Teasing you about what?” He smirked. 

You shyly shook your head, and looked down at your toes as he took a seat beside you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Matthew’s eyes went wide, the shock of yours words having him taken aback. “Uncomfortable? [y/n],” he chuckled under his breath. “You made me...the complete opposite of uncomfortable. I might have been, um, a little too comfortable. It’s a sex scene. It happens.” 

“What do you do...um, when-when it does happen?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye, but you could see he was smiling. 

“Just rehearse,” he shrugged. “Get aquatinted with the other until you fall into your own groove.”

“Wow,” you looked up at him, a sly smile on your face. “So much wisdom.”

“Is that a jab at my age, kid?” He gasped, trying to keep from laughing. “Because I gotta tell you, that hurts.”

“No, no,” you shook your head. “So, let’s get aquatinted then. Um, page 67?” You asked, pinning the paper in your script. 

He nodded, “Yep. So, again, we have to improvise the scene. The initiation, the tension, the act itself.”

“Right. So...how should we start?”

“Hm...” he hummed. “Can you start reading your lines? We can do some quick improv.”

You shrugged, “Sure.” 

You set your script down and began to recite the words from memory, staring at the space across from you as directed, and putting on a somber face. “I don’t know why you came here,” you murmured, presenting a voice on the verge of breaking. “You want to sit here and pretend to care about me, when we both know that’s not the case—“

Matthew watched you for a long time before he started kissing your neck, “I wanted to see you,” he breathed against your skin. “I had to see you.”

You draw in a shaky breath, feeling Matthew’s hand on your leg. “Had to see me? See me? You-you haven’t called me since...since....” You trailed off, Matthew’s lips now tracing your jaw with soft kisses. His mouth felt nice. Like it was meant to be on your body. 

“You okay, [y/n]?” Matthew whispered in your ear. By now, your bodies were pressed together, your shoulder leaning into his chest as his hand moved to your inner thigh. 

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m fine.” 

“You don’t get touched often, do you?” He asked. 

You sucked in a sharp breath, and only shook your head no in response. 

“How?” He kissed your cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

“I’ve never...” You licked your lips. “Never...never, um...”

He pulled away from you instantly, his eyes concentrated on your face. “You’re a virgin?” 

You looked away as you nodded. “And please don’t give me the whole ‘22-year-old-virgin’ speech. I know it’s lame.” 

“Hey, look at me,” He pressed his fingertips into your chin and lifted your head up. “It’s not lame. Not at all.” 

“However,” you spoke quickly. “I’m-I’m not entirely attached to this virginity. I’ve been meaning to get rid of it, actually.”

He looked at you for a moment, and scoffed, “[y/n]...”

“What?” You whined, turning to face him. “Did you not see me earlier? I’m a complete mess for you.” 

“I don’t want you to regret this. I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable or anything like that. And I don’t want you to regret choosing me.”

You stood to your feet, calmly positioning yourself in front of him. You pulled your shirt over your head and dropped it to the floor, your bra following. You began massaging your breast as he watched. “I could kind of tell...that maybe, you liked these.” 

He bit his lip, “Fuck, [y/n].”

You boldly straddled his lap, pressing your boobs into his chest. “I...I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

“You...have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” he whispered. “At all.”

You placed a sweet kiss to his lips, “Show me. Please?” 

So, he did. He kissed you, fiercely, and had you laid out on the couch in seconds. He expertly removed your shorts and panties, tossing them to the other side of the room. His enjoyed the view of your body as he kneeled down between your legs. “You’re so beautiful,” he told you. “And so lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. His finger presses against your clit and rubbed you in small circles. “Because I’m taking it easy on you tonight.”

You gulped, and started pant at the small touch. You watched him as he leaned down and kissed your labia. “You’re already so wet,” he commented. He drew a finger over your slit, “Here, see?” He placed the covered fingers against your bottom lip and you instinctively opened your mouth to suck on it. 

“Good girl,” he purred. “Perfect.”

He dove his head in and ate you out. There's something about the way Matthew does it. Like he's starving. Like he's dying and you’re the cure. Like he's in the desert and you’re the only drink of water. He devours you. Completely buries his face and presses his tongue down with so much force, it sends chills up your spine. His hands are tight on your thighs as his tongue encircles one spot on your clit, the one he knows drives you wild.

Embarassingly quickly, your orgasm built in your stomach. When you first noticed it, you began to pull at Matthew’s hair. Push his head away, clench your thighs together. But he only responded by swatting your hands away, putting one hand around both your wrists and the other on your breast. 

“M-Matthew,” you whimpered. “Ah, fuck, I—“

He looked up at you, his eyes peering into your soul from under his eyelashes. He sped up the velocity of his tongue, the muscle applying immense pressure to your bundle of nerves. 

“Mm,” you whined, attempting to pull your hands from his grasp - no success. “Please, please, please.”

You tried so hard. So hard. But it was good, and it was Matthew, and you came. His name falling off of your lips and your chest heaving up and down. He rolls his tongue along your slit, the stickiness covering his mouth. He stared up at you, hungrily, “So, so lucky.” He whispered.

Matthew pulled a condom from his pocket, and hovered over you as he pulled his pants down to his thighs and released his cock. You licked your lips, to which he gave you a knowing smile. Condom on, he sat beside you on the couch, “Ride me.” He commanded.

“What?” You murmured. “I-I don’t know how to do that.”

He chuckled, “I’ve got you, just come sit on my dick.” 

How can you say no to that? You sat up and straddled his lap once again, body shaking with anxiety. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

You nodded, holding yourself up on his shoulders. His hands guided your hips as you slowly, very slowly, sunk down onto his cock, the length and girth filling you up. You let out a vulnerable whine, biting onto your lip. 

“Stay with me, babygirl,” he said. “You’re doing so good.”

With his erection fully buried inside your, you fell against his body, sitting completely still. He asked if you were okay again, and you replied by sitting up, looking him in the eye and saying a quiet, “Yes.”

“Okay,” he whispered. His hands gripped onto your ass, waiting to guide you. “So, you’re just gonna raise your hips up, like this,” he pushed your thighs up, his cock pulling out of you about halfway. “And then you’re gonna come back down.” He relaxed his arms, allowing you to take his length back inside of you. 

Immediately adjusting to the movement, you started to bounce on him, slowly, awkwardly, and he loved it. 

“Oh, yeah,” he moaned, leaning back to watch you. “Fuck yeah. There you go, baby. You got it.”

You smiled at the encouragement and absentmindedly started to rock your hips faster, the sensation of his dick sending you into a trance. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he swore. “Your pussy is so, so fucking good. Give it to me, beautiful, give it all to me. I want it.”

That’s when you lost yourself. You supported yourself by placing your palms on his chest and continued to ride him, quickly, eagerly. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead and you couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping. You’d been touched by other guys, kissed by other guys, eaten out by other guys. But it wasn’t like this. Nothing was ever like this. 

"Look at me," he said. "Look at me."

There's a hint of pleading in his voice, but just enough power to compel you to open your eyes. 

“Let me pound you,” he requested. “Hm? Let me make you come on my dick, huh?” 

And before you could fully nod, he stilled your hips, grasping them in his hands and angled himself before slamming into you. You threw your head back and let out a guttural moan. Shivers racked your body as his hips picked up this new momentum, fucking you so hard and so fast that the couch wobbled. 

“Ah! A-Ah!” You cried out.

“C’mon, [y/n], you can take it. Say you can take it.”

“I-“ you stuttered. “I can take it. I can take it.”

“Mhm, yes, you can.”

Staring into Matthew's eyes while he's pounding into you is a religious experience. When you open your eyes and make that first bit of contact, his jaw drops and this strangled moan came out. 

"Is this good?"

"Yes."

"Tell me it's good."

"H--huh—fu--it's good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"How good?"

"So good."

"Say it again."

"S--so good."

It is. It's so good. He buried his face in your neck, making the loudest groans possible against your skin. And you felt his tongue licking from the base of your neck to the edge of your jaw, slimy and icky and drool dripping down your skin. So dirty, so disgusting, Jesus christ. He knows the spot. The one right on your jaw line that sends you over the edge. And he sucks on it endlessly while one hand begins to play with your boob, teasing the nipple between his fingers. Then there’s his tongue again, making it's way to your ear. 

"Say my name."

"Oh, my G--god."

"Say it." And he nibbled on your ear. Your eyes rolled back. "Who's fucking you?"

"M-M-Matthew." 

"Who?"

"M--fuck-Matthew."

He found your clit, such ease, such speed. He presses his middle finger down, the pressure alone making you squeeze his bicep with all your strength. You squeaked, you gasped, you trembled, you tensed up. "Fu-ck."

And he rubbed in circles, quick, hard. Hard. 

"A-ah. Fuck. M—Matthew, please." There were tears in your eyes. Literal tears. He looked at you and wiped them away, not breaking the gaze for a second.

"Oh, baby, you're so close."

You nodded.

"Your legs are so tense, you can b-barely hold your eyes open, your pussy's so tight, fuck." 

You were so, so close. 

"Am I right?" 

"Yes."

"About what?"

"I'm gon-Ah! I'm gonna come."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh."

"Then do it." And his hand moved at super sonic speed, the motion of his fingers moving at almost the same tempo as his hips.

That did it. The curve, the fingers, the way he looks at you. You threw your head back. You came. It was good. It was long. His hands. Your throat. Fuck.

“Oh, come on, baby,” he cooes. His hand smacked your face, lightly, just forceful enough to pull you from your daze. “Don’t wear out on me now. That was only number two. I know that’s not all you’ve got.”

“Matthew,” you whimpered.

“Hm?” His hips have slowed to this sweet, tempered rhythm, the tip of his tongue pressed against your bottom lip. The steady pumps send shivers through your spine. “Do you want to stop, baby?” 

You dug your nails into his shoulders, your eyes soft and pouty, misted with tears. 

“[y/n],” he calls. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” you shook your head. Quickly, harshly, your face flushed and your body quivering. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmured. “Can you give me one more? Just one more, baby.” 

“Matthew, I can’t,” you whine. “I can’t, I can’t come again.”

“Yes, you can, you can give me a third one. Watch,” His thumbs locates your clit once again, the mere touch drawing a shaky moan from your lips. “One more, baby. That’s all I want. Just one more. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, weakly, holding his face in your hands. 

He's real good about making sure you come again. But when you do, after you ride it out, it's all about him and you’re all for it. He grabs you  by the throat and watches you tremble, sticking his thumb into your mouth. 

"Fuck. Fuck!" he moans. "Mm, am I being too rough?"

Rough? Yes. You could feel him in your chest he's pounding you so hard. It's sloppy and uncoordinated and you feel like you could come again in seconds with the amount of force he's using. 

"No. Keep going." You begged. 

"Fuck." His voice, so dark, so deep. 

He grips onto your throat harder and leans in. "Where do you want it?"

This man is so hot.

You do nothing but stick your tongue out, exposing your throat. He laughed and nodded, biting his lip as he pushes into you harder and harder. 

The transition from your pussy to your mouth was quick. The second he was down your throat, he came and he held onto your hair while he did. He tensed up, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back. "Agh! Uh! H-huh! Fuck. Fuck."

What calms you down, after the waves and waves and waves of intensity, is the sound of Matthew’s heartbeat. You end up with your ear pressed to his chest as you two bundle up on the couch, your fingertips tracing his sweaty skin. 

He kissed your forehead, “You okay?”

“Thought you said you were taking it easy on me tonight.” You giggled. 

“Oh baby,” he huffed. “That was easy.”

[andypantsx3]

if i could keep cool | 2

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 20,322 words / 6 chapters

summary: A villain attacks Shouto Todoroki’s apartment and kidnaps what he apparently believes to be Todoroki’s secret lover. The bad news—for both you and the villain in question—is that you’re just there to clean the place. That’s how it starts.

tags: romance, reader-insert, accidental sugar daddy shouto, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

You spent the next week with your stomach in knots.

Why had you told Shouto Todoroki to go fuck himself? He was being a total asshole, sure, but couldn’t you have kept your cool for like thirty seconds? He was going to call your boss at the cleaning service and tell her exactly what you had said to him, and then not only would you be dismissed from service at his apartment, but then you’d be so fucking fired from your entire job. You could kiss more than your Netflix subscription and fresh vegetables goodbye--your whole food and rent budget was going to hemorrhage and bleed dry.

You’d clocked into your next few shifts with baited breath, just waiting for the moment your boss demanded to speak with you in her office, shock and disappointment twisting her matronly features. Only, the entire week passed, and the call never seemed to come.

Even more confusingly, no guidance had seemed to be issued at all about the fact that you weren’t welcome in Todoroki’s apartment anymore. Your manager never said anything, never spoke to you about reassignment or a schedule change, had only asked if you felt well enough to continue to pick up your shifts in the week after the incident. She’d made a little quip about hazard pay, but hadn’t even acknowledged the incident beyond that.

So when the next Thursday rolled around and your morning lecture let out, you had no idea if you were supposed to head over to Todoroki’s apartment or not.

You stood outside the lecture hall, considering. On the one hand, you could call and ask your manager exactly what the expectations were. On the other, however, if she didn’t already know, then you telling her was going to surface the fact that he’d fired you, and that was going to lead to a more uncomfortable conversation about your employment overall. But maybe she did know, and just hadn’t mentioned it to you? What if Todoroki had just assumed that you would tell her, though, and they would send someone else in your place? If no one showed up to clean, he was going to call, and then you were going to get fired.

You started a slow path towards his apartment. Maybe you could just show up to check and see if any of your coworkers had been sent in your place. And if they hadn’t, you could finish out your last shift there. Besides, the schedule had been set specifically for when he was supposed to be out of the apartment, so it wasn’t like he was going to be there to see that it was you who was doing the cleaning. You could grab the last of the hefty tips and store that up for when you had to switch out with someone in the next week. And then all would be solved, and your Netflix subscription was the only thing that would really suffer for it.

You tapped your foot nervously as you rode the train further into downtown where he lived. Come to think of it, no one had asked you to pass off the keys to his place. Had he really not told your manager that he’d given you the boot?

The flames of your suspicion were fanned when security in the lobby of his building seemed unphased by your presence, and were confirmed when you took the elevator up to his floor and unlocked his door to peek through--none of your coworkers were in sight.

He hadn’t told anyone.

You took a few nervous steps into the apartment, shutting the door quietly behind you. You shouldered off your backpack, dumping it on one of the high stools at the kitchen island and looked around curiously. The glass from the shattered windows had been swept up, and the windows already replaced. Nothing else appeared out of order, no other evidence that the last time you’d been in here, you’d been kidnapped and almost killed.

The thought sent a shiver down your spine. You’d clean this place at lightning speed, grab your tip, and peace the absolute fuck out before anything more could happen.

You ducked down under the kitchen sink to fish out your usual supplies, pulling on a pair of gloves and grabbing the duster, a microfiber cloth, and a couple of the disinfectants and solutions. You had just piled it all on the counter and were reaching down to grab more when you heard the soft snick of a door opening.

You immediately ducked down behind the counter, and your arm shot out to grab a bottle of windex like it would do anything to protect you from whoever was approaching the kitchen with quiet footsteps. Maybe you could spray it in their eyes and make a run for it.

You stared in the direction of the footfalls, heart beating wildly in your chest.

There was a pause, and then a deep voice issued from over the counter top. “I know you’re there.”

You bit back a swear. You knew that voice, and this was even worse than encountering another villain in his apartment.

Slowly, you climbed to your feet, stomach sinking. That pair of two-toned eyes fixed on you unblinkingly, and a carefully-crafted mask of blank stillness slid over his handsome features. It was too deliberate, and your last hope that maybe he wouldn’t remember you was snuffed out like a candle in the wind.

“I, uh, thought you weren’t supposed to be here,” you said by way of explanation, cringing. You were so absolutely fucked.

He considered you carefully. You noted he was wearing a deep blue button up over white trousers, which was decidedly not his hero uniform, and any hope of him being on his way out to patrol was similarly extinguished.

“I owe you an apology,” he said quietly.

You startled so violently that you dropped the windex. “W-what?”

His eyes tracked you closely, and you felt like you might burst into flame from the intensity of his focus. “I was...mistaken about who you were.”

You stared at him incredulously. How could he be mistaken about who you were if he had no damn idea in the first place?

Your confusion must have shown clearly on your face, because he sighed. “My manager schedules the cleaning days. I didn’t realize that you were--that is to say, I thought you were a fan who had broken in and managed to get kidnapped while you were at it.”

You gaped. He’d thought you were a crazy fan? Suddenly, his comments about your stupidity and you invading his privacy made complete sense. Maybe just after being rescued was not the time for him to have made those comments, but you could see why he had, if he’d thought you had forced your way into his home and had been in the process of going through his things before you were surprised by a villain.

“Oh, I, um...nope. Not a fan,” you managed. Well, yes a fan, but not in a breaking and entering kind of a way. And not a fan in the last week. Your twitter, which had previously featured the occasional retweeted shot of his abs, had now been filled with a lot of anti-Todoroki content, including one truly horrible picture of him photoshopped with a half ice, half flame beard, looking horrendously like his father.

Todoroki let out a slow breath, and you thought you could see it mist in the apartment air. Was his quirk acting up? He must still be annoyed, regardless.

“Well glad that’s cleared up now. I’ll just, uh, go then,” you said, grabbing an armful of the cleaning supplies and shoving it back under the sink hastily. When you stood back up, you almost had a heart attack, as he had rounded the counter so quietly that you hadn’t heard him, and was now standing in between you and your escape.

“Wait,” he said, looking uncomfortable. “I want to make up for what I said to you. You...didn’t deserve that, especially not right after you’d just been kidnapped by a villain.”

You eyed the space between his hip and the counter, wondering if you should make a break for it anyway, and if his hero reflexes were fast enough to stop you. The air in the apartment was growing increasingly discomfiting and it was clear Todoroki hated this.

You waved a hand. “It’s fine. You saved me, we can call it even.”

Something flashed behind his eyes. “It’s my fault you were taken in the first place. I'd like to apologize properly.”

Your own sense of shame slowly crept up on you and your face burned as you suddenly remembered the way you’d told him to go fuck himself. He’d been a douche to you, yes, but he’d literally saved your life and you’d told him to go fuck himself.

You accidentally blurted as much. “You don’t actually have to go fuck yourself.”

He stared at you, and your cheeks heated. Jesus Christ, you needed to leave.

“Uh, I mean. You saved my life,” you babbled, suddenly desperate to put conversational distance from the phrase go fuck yourself. “And yeah what you said to me was super rude, but what I said to you was also super rude. So, um, I’m sorry too. And I really would just like to call it even and forget about it because it’s super embarrassing for both of us and I could literally die thinking about it.”

You could admit, now, that you knew it had been extra embarrassing for him. Even though it wasn’t your fault, in the past week, you’d seen nothing but headlines exploring the rumors that Todoroki had a secret lover. Luckily your name had been kept out of things, but even you could tell it was costing his agency a lot not to just throw the real story out there and the contact details to your cleaning service to calm the media firestorm.

You could only imagine how uncomfortable things could get for you if all of Japan got wind of what had happened, and just what you’d said to him afterwards.

“I hadn’t really planned on it,” Todoroki said, and you tilted your head in question.

“Hadn’t planned on what?”

“Fucking myself,” he clarified, looking serious, and you choked on a laugh.

A small smile tugged at his mouth, then, and some of your discomfort with him evaporated. So the hero had a sense of humor.

“Oh, well that’s good, then," you said. Then you added, "That’s probably a job for your actual secret lover.”

He raised a white eyebrow. “Not you, too.”

You threw him a smile. “But I have evidence. I saw that homemade soup in your fridge once with the love note attached.”

It took him a moment, but then Todoroki smirked. “Ah yes. That secret lover.”

“Cute pet name, too,” you said.

Todoroki let out a low laugh. “You fucking fuck, was it?”

You laughed too, tension easing from your shoulders. Maybe Todoroki wasn’t all bad, then. He had a sense of humor, it seemed, and he’d apologized to you for what he’d said. Maybe you wouldn’t be fired after all, and you could just peacefully transfer your shifts without any blowback from your manager. You could probably weasel your way into a friend’s Netflix account anyway. You’d miss the vegetables, though.

“As it happens, however, I did already plan more of an apology,” Todoroki said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You looked up at him, your brow furrowing. “You planned...more of an apology?”

He gestured to a tall vase of white tulips on the kitchen counter. They hadn’t been there any of your previous shifts, but you hadn’t really taken note of them when you’d walked in today. You’d just assumed they were sent by a fan or something.

“I’ve been told that they mean forgiveness and new beginnings. I had hoped that we might...start over,” he said. He looked a little self conscious again.

“I didn’t bring you any flowers,” you blurted.

He coughed suddenly, like he was stifling a surprised laugh. “I hadn’t expected them.”

Your eyes were drawn back to the tulips. They were pretty, their petals thick and full like they had just been about to bloom before they were picked, and they were stark white, like fresh snow, or the right half of Todoroki’s distinctive mop of hair. You hadn’t ever been given flowers before, except for the time you’d graduated middle school. Flowers from your aunt didn’t really count, though.

“Thank you,” you said, looking back up at Todoroki. He was watching you closely, and you felt embarrassment prickle over your skin at being stared at with such intensity. Was he always this intense? Various twitter memes had suggested yes, but it was one thing to know it abstractly and another to experience it in real life, especially when he was even more overwhelming to look at in person.

Now that your anger with him had burned away, you could admit that Shouto Todoroki was way too handsome for anyone’s good, least of all yours. He was tall, leanly muscled, and broad across the shoulders with a trim waist and impossibly long legs. His face, too, was almost unreal, so carefully and perfectly structured with a high-bridged nose, a soft, sensuous mouth, and bright, intelligent eyes. Even the scar only added interest, and did absolutely nothing to detract from the striking beauty of his features.

It was honestly a surprise that you’d managed to get any words out around him at all. You supposed you had the novelty of the situation you’d found yourself in to thank for that. If you’d met him under any other circumstances you probably would have choked on your own tongue and tried to disappear as fast as you could manage.

Pretty boys were not your area of expertise.

“I also wanted to make it clear that I didn’t mean what I said,” Todoroki added in his low tone. “About your being unwelcome here. I don’t intend to interfere with your employment.”

You considered him in surprise. Did this mean...you weren’t resigned to ramen for the next two semesters?

“That’s good to hear, thank you,” you said. Then you smiled, feeling charitable. “As you can see, though, it didn’t really deter me.”

Todoroki smirked. “If I hadn’t seen the cleaning supplies already on the counter, I would be concerned that you’d come back for revenge.”

“There’s still time,” you joked. “Maybe I was going to play the long game and fill all the bottles with Sprite.”

He let out another surprised laugh. “I hope the flowers are enough of a deterrent.”

You looked over the flowers again, then smiled up at him. “The bribe has been accepted. Your countertops are safe from me.” You paused, then added, “For now.”

Something strangely like a challenge glinted in his eyes. “Be warned that I will do whatever it takes to ensure the safety of my countertops.”

“You don’t even use them,” you complained, “I can tell. But message received, I’ll spare them.” Your eyes searched back over them, and it dawned on you that you hadn’t been fired, and should probably actually be cleaning them if you intended to keep the job after all. “Now clear out, I do actually have to clean them now.”

Todoroki allowed himself to be bullied out of the kitchen fairly easily, though he didn’t go far.

He took a seat in the living room, which thanks to the open floor plan of his modern apartment, allowed him to supervise you easily enough. He pulled down a book from one of his shelves, but either it was super boring or he wasn’t any good at pretending to read, as it stayed flipped open to the first page for a very long time, and you thought you caught more than the occasional flash of curious grey and blue from the corner of your eye.

He didn’t last long past the first hour of pretending to read, however, and eventually wandered back over to sit at the island while you worked. He launched into a series of questions about you, and seemed genuinely curious about you now that he’d confirmed for himself that you weren’t a crazy stalker fan.

You couldn’t understand why he seemed so interested, but you found yourself telling him anything he wanted to know, detailing your classes, your cranky roommate, your job at the cleaning service to feed you during the semester, the fattie deal on broccoli you’d scored at the grocery store last week, and finally your hobbies including your love of reading, though you hadn’t had much time or budget for books since the school year began. You made sure to steer clear of any mention of your twitter, though, and the multitude of ab shots and recent slew of anti-Todoroki content on it. There was only so much of your life that could be shared with a celebrity hero.

Eventually, you’d covered all your usual ground, and had shouldered on your backpack to leave for the night, but Todoroki stopped you, and insisted on calling you a car home as it had gotten dark. You tried to decline, but on this point he seemed adamant, and not long after you found yourself bundled into the backseat of an agency car, vase of white tulips clutched in your hands.

It was only after you’d let yourself into your apartment and set down the tulips and your bag that you discovered a much thicker bundle of a tip than usual tucked into the side pocket of your backpack. You blanched as you unfolded the bills, staring somewhat stupidly down at the amount. A slim note had been tucked into the fold of the bills, and though you weren’t familiar with the neat handwriting and hadn’t even seen him go for a pen and paper, the note for vegetables was so clearly from Todoroki.

Worse, it told you that Todoroki had actually been listening to your ramblings, and you wondered what other weird things you’d said that had caught his interest enough for him to remember. You hoped nothing else, and that he’d forget it all soon enough anyway. You’d made nice now, but it wasn’t like you guys were going to be fast friends or anything.

You considered the money for a long while, then picked out the amount that was usually left out for you and added it to your wallet. Torodoki had admitted earlier that his manager handled the cleaning service scheduling, and it was likely she was typically responsible for leaving a tip aside for you as well. Todoroki probably didn’t know how much she usually left, and as much as you desperately wanted to pocket the rest of the cash and make a break for the nearest vegetable aisle, you felt weird accepting it.

You could return it during your shift early next week, and that would close out the weird fever dream that the past week had been.

And then, you could finally get back to normal.

[stardusttrashed]

My Cup of Tea

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x fem! reader, slight Jean Kirstein x fem! reader

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst

Word Count: 7.3k

A/n: I pictured y/n as a blasian or lightskin

Most of your friends thought you were crazy for wanting to join the scouts. They didn’t understand why you’d throw your life away like that. Always telling them living inside the walls and in constant fear wasn’t living anyway probably didn’t help the situation. If anything, you might’ve just gave them all existential crises.

In hindsight, joining does seem like a death wish. Throwing yourself right towards a titan for the sake of humanity. It was no wonder people preferred to join other ranks, such as the Military Police. But the threat of death never really scared you. You always thought that you needed to feel like you were living before having a rational fear of any alternative. You couldn’t explain why, but you felt like that solution was just beyond the walls. Somewhere so close but so far. 

So you joined the 104th Training Corps and graduated second in the class. You were a close first, second to Mikasa Ackerman. That was an achievement in itself since you started a running joke with her and the others that she wasn’t human. She was some titan god in human form. Or something like that.

In reality, ranks aside, making it through the training was good enough for you. Between the rigorous training and the bunch of idiots that provided numerous headaches- and even more laughter- there were times you doubted you’d even make it through. 

“I had a hunch you were as crazy as Eren, but I didn’t think I’d be right.” There he was, your biggest headache of the bunch. Jean Kirstein. You loved the loud-mouthed, blunt boy to bits, but that didn’t mean he was any less close to getting his ass kicked at any given second. 

It was apparent he had a crush on you since day one. Well, you and Mikasa, but his fixation on Mikasa was stomped on once everyone could see how head over heels she was for Eren. So he settled for you, the next girl with exotic black hair that had no crush to get in his way. 

He sat across from you at the table with an overconfident expression.“You could join the military police instead and live peacefully. It’s the smartest thing to do.” From the corner of your eye, you could see Eren’s head snap in your direction. He was glaring daggers at the both of you, well, mostly Jean, but for once, Jean’s attention remained on you.

“Well, Jeanie-” you leaned in closer, resting your elbows on the table, “- I guess there’s a first time for everything.” you chuckled and returned to your original position, taking a bite of bread.  “You’re only half right, though; I’m crazier than the suicidal blockhead over there.”

“I can hear you two, you know,” Eren broke in. 

“Oh, I know. You may be able to kick Je-ju’s ass, but I can hold my own against you,”  you chuckled before turning back towards Jean. “Besides, being in the Military Police sounds boring,” you said with a shrug. “I joined so I could become a scout so that I could get out of these walls. I’m sure you’ll have enough fun inside the walls for both of us.” 

Jean shook his head and mutter something inaudible under his breath, clearly disapproving. 

“Coward,” Eren mumbled loud enough for the both of you to hear, causing yet another one of their famous dining hall fights to break out. You looked across the scrapping pair at Mikasa, sharing a tired and somewhat annoyed smile with her.

The next day was like a nightmare. Chaos broke out as word of the return of the Colossus Titan’s return spread like wildfire. Wall Trost had been attacked, and titans were spilling into the city. Everyone was wildly unprepared, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared shitless. Without the Survey Corps, the 104th Training Corps were sent to the front lines. You were about to see your first titan and put your training to the test. It was everything you hoped for and dreaded all at once. 

You slew every titan you could that crossed my path, killing three titans alone and assisting more than you could keep track of. It wasn’t enough, though. Countless comrades were lost, either through being captured by titans or by running out of gas for their ODM gear. Nonetheless, you soared through the sky, flinging yourself from building to building as you did your part to keep humanity safe. 

Somehow in all the commotion of heading towards HQ, you got separated from the others. “Shit!” You stood on a roof, stopping to survey your surroundings. Titans still roamed through the city on the search for their next victim. Their footsteps grew closer, the building beneath your feet shaking uncontrollably. 

That’s when you saw them. The Survey Corps were back and working on the remaining few titans. You watched as Captain Levi killed a titan with ease and moved onto the two titans treading closer. He walked with such calm confidence you couldn’t help but stop to admire him. He made killing them look beautiful, like a dance. 

Without a second thought, you aimed my gear towards him, desperate for a closer look. You soared through the sky, mindlessly slaying every titan that got in between you and Levi. You were nearly there when your gear refused to function. In a quick moment of panic, you repeatedly squeezed the triggers, but nothing happened. You desperately hit the gears in hopes of bringing it back to life to no avail. You braced yourself as you began to tumble to the ground. You closed your eyes, sadly accepting your fate as the strong winds caused a few curls to fall from your ponytail. You had lived and done your fair part for humanity. At least you had taken out a few titans before your death. You prepared yourself for impact until you felt an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you back up towards a roof. 

“Trying to get yourself killed?” You were greeted with a pair of steely yet breathtaking gray eyes. You felt like you were dreaming. Captain Levi was holding you in his arms like a knight in shining armor. 

“I wasn’t, but now I’m having second thoughts- especially if it means I get to be swept off my feet by you.” You bit back a cheeky grin as you searched his eyes. His frown remained pressed in on his features despite the flash of interest in his eyes. The longer you stood there, the more you grew aware of his arm still firmly wrapped around your waist. 

He kept looking at you like he was expecting something. There was something about you that he found intoxicating. Maybe it was that mouth of yours or the wind-blown mess of black curls. His eyes trailed up from your gaze to your hair, which was probably a mess if you were being completely honest with yourself. When his eyes looked back down into your own, you couldn’t help but get lost in their storm. “You’ve got quite the balls on you, rookie. Too bad, you’re an idiot.” 

It took everything in you not to hit that smug smirk off his face. “No more of an idiot than you are, Captain.” You knew you could get written up for the way you were speaking to the captain, but the threat only spurred you on further. “Only difference between us-,,” you pressed yourself closer to him until you could feel each breath, “is that my balls are bigger.” 

Levi’s smirk was replaced with a more intense look that could’ve been mistaken as hunger as he held you tighter. “Prove it, brat.”

You searched his face for a sign he was joking as you let out a nervous giggle. You slipped out of his grasp and checked your equipment when you realized he was dead serious. “I’m out of gas. The supply team never came.”

“Well, if you don’t want to die, I’d suggest you use whatever little brain you have and think.” He nodded towards an approaching titan. Levi crossed his arms as he watched you like a game.

The 5-meter beast stumbled through the damaged buildings, rushing towards you. It was only three buildings away and covering ground fast.

Your train of thought went a mile a minute. The increasing intensity of the quakes beneath your feet only helped spur it on. You took down your hair and quickly redid your bun as you thought. “Take me as high as you can with your gear, and I’ll handle the rest.”

He hesitantly agreed, wrapping his arm around you once again. Your breath caught in your throat as you both went flying through the air towards the stumbling beast. You knew your plan was half-assed, but you couldn’t help but have faith nonetheless.

Once you were directly above the titan, you gave Levi the signal to let go, sending yourself spiraling towards the figure below. Levi watched with a dumbstruck expression as you confidently twirled through the air. You dove as gracefully as you could be with any ODM gear to help guide you. 

“Damn idiot,” Levi muttered to himself as you drew your blades. He swooped in, loosely wrapping both arms around you from behind in an attempt to help guide you. Surprisingly you managed to slice a clean chunk of the titan’s neck almost instantly. Part of him wondered if you had even needed his assistance. He carried you back up to the rooftop and gently set you down in front of him.

You twisted your body to face your savior with a cheeky smile. You shouldn’t be surprised he stepped in with such ease considering his reputation. He had no doubt worked on countless team missions, but there was something about the way you worked together that felt so natural.

“Told you I could handle it,” you mused to the annoyed-looking man in a way that came off unintentionally sexual. You wiped your blade on your sleeves before putting them back in their holders.

Levi quickly averted your gaze with a quick ‘tch,’ surveying the area. You felt like fire in his arms, which made him unusually flustered. He dropped his arms to his sides as he took a step back. He didn’t expect you to take his challenge so easily and pull it off, especially since you were out of gas. He admired that you weren’t all talk, that you could actually handle yourself. It made each annoyingly snarky comment that came out of your mouth even more intoxicating. “W-we’ll fall back. My squad can handle the rest of these ugly bastards.”

 You turned to face him only to have him continue to avoid your gaze. When he finally met your gaze again, he held his hand out to you with an expectant look in his eyes. You hesitantly took it, cupping your hand in his. It felt like electricity coursed through your veins at his touch. He pulled you closer with an unsuspecting strength, wrapping his arm around your waist once again. 

He was so casual about it while your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest any second now. “Is this how you get all the women, Captain?” You chuckled in hopes of concealing your nervousness. The scolding look in his eyes and the tint of red emerging on his ears spurred your teasing flirtations on. “I’m just saying-,” you rested your hand on his chest, “- your arm is starting to feel real homey right there.”

Levi looked away once again, “tch. Are you trying to live or not, brat?” 

You snaked your arms around his neck and kept quiet. Once he seemed happy with your answer, you hopped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. You wanted to make sure you were as out of his way as you could be. That, and you wanted to see his reaction. You could practically see the vein bulging from his temple, but he made no effort to correct your stance. Instead, to your surprise, he moved one of his hands to hold your thigh as he made sure you were secure.

His grasp only lasted momentarily before they fell on the triggers. Taking off without being the one in control felt so different. You felt a rush of butterflies in your stomach, causing you to subconsciously wrap your legs tighter and bury your face in his neck. The more you breathed in his scent, the calmer you found yourself getting. He was like a safety blanket you never knew you needed yet never wanted to let go of.

You didn’t see much of Captain Levi once he dropped you off with the other trainees. He left without so much as a bye. Not that there was much time to anyway. You couldn’t dwell or even so much as daydream. The days that followed were filled with cleaning up the remnants of your fallen comrades. There were so many bodies that went unidentified; it made you sick to your stomach—the only person who was more torn up about it than you was Jean.

Graduation followed soon after. You were officially able to call yourself a Scout. The next morning you and the others who joined the scouts were led to a castle. It was cleaner than you thought it’d be. You took your time getting to know the castle, eventually stumbling upon the Mess Hall. 

There had to be at least a dozen scouts in the room, yet you could make out one voice above the others. You anxiously looked around to find the man behind the bored sounding voice. Within a few moments, you had found him, your eyes landing on the raven-haired man with tired eyes. He was sitting with his squad and Eren across the room.

“Hey y/n, if you’re gonna keep staring, you might wanna wipe the drool off your chin,” Connie teased as he walked up behind you.

“Seriously,” Jean joined in. He slipped into the space next to you, despite this side of the room being practically empty. “I don’t get what you see in him.” He shook his head, disapprovingly.

“I’m not staring at captain Levi, you nitwit,” you snapped quietly, already annoyed by their teasing. You kept your lips in a tight line as you tried to control yourself. “I was just imagining myself being part of the Special Operations Squad,” you grumbled. 

“Y’know,” Armin piped in, nearly scaring you from his sudden intrusion in the conversation. “Neither of them said anything about Captain Levi.” I could hear his cheeky yet bashful grin in his voice. Connie’s and Jean’s obnoxious laughter only made it worse.

You turned to Armin with a deathly glare and opened your mouth to say something. You quickly closed your mouth as he met your stare. With a huff you turned away, focusing back on Captain Levi. “You’re too smart for your own good sometimes.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything bad about him or be rude. Armin was the little angel of the group that you always had a soft spot for. You turned to Jean, eager to get the attention off of you. “Bet if it were you I was drooling over, you wouldn’t have an issue.” You watched him with a cocky grin, basking in his dumbfounded expression. 

“Just shut up, will ya,” he barked a tad louder than necessary as he crossed his arms like a child throwing a fit.

Your eyes wandered around the room while you laughed at his reaction. To your surprise, when your eyes landed on Levi again, he was already looking in your direction.

Everything Petra was telling him went in one ear and out the other once he spotted you across the room. He cursed himself for his heart skipping a beat. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to see you here. You were crazy enough to go after a titan when you had zero gas left in your ODM gear. What would stop you from joining the scouts? He wanted to go talk to you, to at least get to know your name, but he had to stay and talk to Petra. Levi watched helplessly as you practically ran out of the room.

You tried to stall going back down to the Mess Hall as you stood in your room fixing your hair. You sprinkled some water on your hair to revitalize your curls like you would a plant. You didn’t wear your hair down often since all the wind from using the ODM turned it into a mass of tangles. 

“If you aren’t coming, can I have your serving?” 

You laughed to yourself, not needing to open the door to know who was on the other side. “You touch my serving, and I’ll kick your ass.” Sasha greeted you with wide eyes as you opened the door. She looked you up and down with a stupid grin, making you feel slightly subconscious about wearing your hair down.

“You’re gonna make Jean lose it,” she beamed, quickly cut off by a loud growl from her stomach. She scratched the back of her neck bashfully, “s-sorry I only ate one loaf for lunch.”

“Sasha,” you started with a straight face, “that’s literally how much we always get.” She looked at you like you had said the most absurd thing ever, and you raised your hands in mock defense. “You can have my bread tonight then.” 

Sasha practically dragged you by your hand to the Mess Hall. You found a seat between Connie and Armin, who not so subtly kept sneaking glances at you. Before your butt even touched the seat, Sasha nabbed your loaf of bread, plopping down across from Connie. 

“You uh, you look-.” Armin was cut off by Jean as he made himself comfy across you.

“Wow. I, uh, like your hair like that.” Jean gaped at you with a stunned look on his face. You couldn’t help but feel a boost of confidence under his gaze. It was like you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

“Hey Je-ju,” you said as seductively as you could muster, batting your eyelashes at the man in front of you. It must’ve worked cause you could hear even Armin quietly sputter beside you. Jean hummed as he leaned in closer. “You’re drooling.” 

Jean was brought back to reality by your laughter. He sat upright and muttered something under his breath before focusing on his food. He almost found the laughter that followed yours from Connie and Sasha obnoxiously annoying. 

Your laughter died out as your eyes absentmindedly scanned the room. The room was full of faces you had never seen before. Full of people willing to lay their lives down for humanity. Everywhere you looked, people looked somewhat at ease except for the short man sitting across from the commander. Unlike the others in the room, a smile never graced his lips, just a permanent frown. “Give me a sec,” you announced to the others. 

Jean’s eyes followed yours, and he quietly sighed in annoyance. You shot him a half-apologetic smile before making your way over to the pair. You swiped two cups of tea on your way over, still trying to conjure up what exactly you’d say to either of them. 

Commander Erin was the first to notice your approach, pausing his conversation with Levi so he could look up at you. His piercing ocean eyes stared at you, making you nearly forget why you even went over. 

Your breath caught in your throat as Levi deadpanned to you with an icy stare. He rolled his eyes after a long moment of silence had passed. “Looking for something, rookie?”

His curt acknowledgment made the butterflies in your stomach go wild, filling you with an antsy warmth. You felt childish for getting this nervous around him. What if he doesn’t even remember you? With a steely breath, you calmed your nerves enough to start talking.“Y/n Y/l/n of the 104th Cadet Corps,” you saluted. Erwin nodded in acknowledgment, but Levi continued to stare at you like he was bored. “I- I thought maybe you two would like something to drink—” you set down the cups in front of them, “— I was also hoping I could speak to Captain Levi.”

Levi stared at you, checking you out as discreetly as possible. He was finally able to admire your hair now that it was out of a bun. Your curls were gorgeous, like nothing he had ever seen before. You were gorgeous. He got lost in the thought of being able to run his fingers through your hair, playing with each curl on your head. 

You couldn’t tell if the expression on his face was disapproval or if he was intrigued, but you carried on either way. “I was hoping to be under you.” You grimaced at the slip of my tongue, nervously biting your bottom lip. You desperately hoped that they didn’t notice how your cheeks now felt like they were on fire.

Levi raised an eyebrow, choking on the sip of tea he had taken. You noticed his ear transform into a light shade of pink. Commander Erwin held back an unmistakable chuckle, hiding his smirk behind his cup of tea. “Excuse me?” Levi asked once he finally managed to stop coughing, still unable to get himself to look you in the eye. He was sure it was a slip of the tongue, but that didn’t stop the rush of excitement coursing through his body. He had his eye on you since the first day he met you, and your slip up definitely wasn’t doing anything to help.

“A-apologies, I mean, I want to be part of the Levi squad.” You ignored his disapproving scoff. “I want to help retake wall Maria and eventually see outside of the walls.” You chewed your lip, thinking of what else to say.

His silence was growing more deafening by the second. You were suffocating in it. Any confidence you had quickly died out like a fire without oxygen. 

“You think going against the Titans once and not dying makes you qualified to be part of my squad,” he started in a condensing tone. “You’re not. I won’t make you a part of my squad so that you can go out and get yourself killed.” He didn’t what’d he do if you were to get hurt while being in his squad. Or even worse, he didn’t know how he’d react to having you so close. So he did the best thing for both of you: deny your place on the team.

“Then let me show you why I am qualified,” You interject, finally rediscovering your fight. Did he not remember how you took down the titan when you first met? Sure, you needed assistance, but only because you were out of gas. “Only thing that’ll kill me are natural causes, and I don’t consider those ugly bastards to be a natural cause. I’m going to help reclaim wall Maria even if I’m not a part of your squad.” You nodded at the commander out of respect before taking off back to your seat.

You plopped down in between Connie and Armin once again with an irritated huff. He was so cold, yet you still found yourself wanting more. Maybe that’s what really irritated you about the situation. 

“Take it your talk didn’t go well,” Armin asked sympathetically, cutting into your thoughts.

“Of course not; what’d you think you were doing just walking up to them like that,” Jean scolded you. You could hear the mixture of relief and triumph in his voice, but you said nothing about it.

“Well—” Sasha began as she stuffed her face with whatever food she had leftover, “— she’s not entirely wrong. They are just people. Scary, intimidating, and powerful, but still people.”

“Whatever you said clearly got their attention. Captain Levi has been staring at you since you left,” Mikasa said curtly, silencing any bickering among our group. 

All eyes found themselves on Levi, who carried on his conversation with Erwin. They looked back and forth between you and the captain, trying to piece together what they missed. Eventually, one by one, they lost interest, turning around to focus on their food or whatever new conversation they could create. Even then, his gaze never left yours- watching you through every nod, reply, or sips of tea. You were the first to break the staring contest, jumping back into conversations like nothing happened. 

It became a routine of sorts. You’d spend your days’ training with the others, doing your best to push Levi out of your mind long enough to focus on being the best in each exercise. Each night for the next couple of weeks, you would bring him a cup of tea during dinner. No words were ever exchanged, just stares and a cup. He never even said a thank you, not that you ever really expected one. 

“Why do you keep giving him drinks?” Eren looked at you with genuine curiosity as you prepared to give a cup of tea to Levi. 

You shrugged, unable to think of a real reason why. He never asked for it, thanked you for it, and he barely even acknowledged you for it. Yet you still gave him a cup of tea everyday. You stared at the cup in your hand. The warmth it provided was nothing compared to the warm feeling Levi caused inside of you. Maybe that was the answer. Or perhaps it was to help him look a little less tired. “Guess it’s one of life’s strange mysteries.” You shot Eren a half-hearted smile before getting up and walking over to Levi.

He was seated with the other captains, the four of them speaking in hushed voices despite the room being full of chatter. You had half a mind to turn around out of respect, but you were already close enough for Hange to notice you as they glanced up at the room. 

You probably could’ve still turned around since Levi hadn’t noticed yet. Instead, you hesitantly carried on, keeping your head down. Set the cup down and keep it moving. That was the plan. For once, you wanted to keep my head down, but that plan flew out the window as you felt his fingers brush against yours. You held the side of the cup since you had picked up that Levi only held his cups from above, but there he was. You looked up at him with a hitched breath, completely forgetting the other captains were there. The half-smirk on his face and his fingers still on top of yours made it hard to think, move, or even stand. He looked at you from the corner of his eye and let out a quiet pleased sound at your reaction.

You shared a quick knowing look at each other that didn’t go unnoticed by Hange before Levi moved his hand so you could leave. Hange waited until you and the other captains had walked off, quietly plotting the whole time. “So, you and one of the recruits huh,” Hange asked vaguely. Their eyes were wide with their typical borderline crazy look. Levi’s shrug told them everything they needed to know. This was a rare moment to be treasured. Levi has a crush. Or at least a fixation. “Y/l/n, right? She is quite the cutie. Think I’d have a chance?” Hange noticed Levi’s frown deepen as he sent them a threatening glare. Hange burst into a fit of laughter, “I was only kidding. I wouldn’t steal your crush, I probably could, but I wouldn’t.” Hange chose to ignore the subtle way Levi’s body tensed at the word crush. “Why not go talk to the girl? Y’know, only so much can get done by just staring.” With a supportive smile, Hange walked away, leaving the dining hall. 

“Just ask him out already,” Sasha blurted out with a mouth full of bread. 

You opened my mouth to protest, but Jean spoke first, “she’s not wrong.” He sat across from you and stared at you in discontent. “It’s painfully obvious that you like the man even though you two have barely spoken a word to each other.” His blunt words dripped with venom, but the hatred never reached his eyes. He still had the same tenderness in his eyes like the first time you saw him. If anything, he was hurt more than angry. Jean slid his cup over to you and mumbled under his breath, “guess I can’t judge much, though.”

You held the cup in your hands, watching the liquid slosh around for a moment before taking a sip. “Thank you, Jeanie.” You met his gaze with a shy smile and could see his expression soften a fraction. “I mean it.”

You looked between Jean and Sasha with a confused expression as his face suddenly hardened, and Sasha gaped like a fish at what was behind you. “What?”

“Y/l/n,” a voice piped up from behind you, causing your whole body to freeze.

You looked at Sasha, quietly asking for confirmation. She nodded, her eyes still zoned in on Levi. You cautiously turned around to see Levi standing beside you. You let out a quiet squeak as you clambered to your feet. “Yes, sir, captain Levi.” You gave him a quick salute. 

Levi almost found himself smiling at your sudden formality. It was cute seeing a different side of you. He averted your gaze but quickly looked back at you when his eyes fell on Jean. He was reminded it wasn’t just you at the table. “I need to speak with you.” He didn’t wait for a response as he began heading outside.

You gave the pair an apologetic smile before running off behind the captain. You walked in silence for a while, enjoying the cool autumn breeze blowing between the both of you. “Is something the matter, captain?”

Levi shook his head but remained quiet. The look in his eyes was strangely shy, something you didn’t even know he was capable of. It was almost like he was just as nervous as you were. You pressed the thought out of your head. “T-thank you-,,” he stopped in his tracks and turned to face you, “-for all the teas. I still won’t let you join my squad.”

“I know, that’s not why I do it.” You pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

Silence enveloped you once again, giving you time to admire his features. He was gorgeous under the moonlight. The little light somehow accentuated his strong jawline to the point where it almost rivaled commander Erwin’s. His usually lackluster eyes sparkled like the stars above. 

Unbeknown to you, he was admiring you just the same. Part of him wished your hair was down again, hoping to see the way your curls frame your face. You had an untouchable innocence in your eyes, the same eyes he always found himself getting drunk off of. He stopped himself once his thoughts began to go back to his first encounter with you, reminding him of how you felt in his arms. You were right, his arm did feel at home around your waist. 

“There’s no point in having any relationship,” Levi eventually said more to himself than to you. “Either of us could die to those bastards at any moment, and I’m probably older than you think.”

You failed to hold back your giggles as a cocky smile pressed in over your lips. “I never said anything about a relationship either, captain. You came to that conclusion all on your own. Who’s to say I’m even interested? Maybe I’m just really nice.”

Levi took a challenging step closer, “You’re not.” The corners of his mouth turned up into a cocky smirk. “I wasn’t born yesterday-.”

“Oh, I know, old man,” you quipped, taking your own step forward. 

“Tch. Dumb brat, a few cups of tea isn’t going to get me to fall for you.”

You closed the small gap between you, leaving barely enough room for the wind between you. Your body yearned to be closer to the warmth that radiated from him. “All your stares say otherwise. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve liked me since we first met, captian.”

He leaned down until you could feel his breath on your lips. Every inch of his body craved you. Against his better judgment, he wrapped an arm around your waist. The air between you was electric, only helping to light every inch of your body on fire. He pulled you flush against him, relishing the feeling of having you in his arms again. It was too much like a dream to him. A dream he felt he desperately needed to wake up from. “It’s a good thing you know better.” With that, he walked away. 

You were left hanging, the cool autumn breeze feeling more like an arctic chill now. You wanted to yell or pull him back towards you, but instead, you stood there mentally throwing a fit like a child who didn’t get their way. 

You took your time getting back to your room, forcing yourself to go to sleep as soon as you sat on your bed. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t relax enough to fall asleep. Levi invaded your thoughts. You weren’t sure when or how, but you eventually drifted off into sleep. 

The next morning you prepped for the 57th Expedition despite the heaviness in your eyes. 

“Geez, you look dead,” Jean chuckled as he helped you up onto your horse. His hand stayed a little longer on your hip than necessary, but you chose not to say anything. He waited until you were completely situated before removing his hand. 

“Yeah, you’ve got more eye bags than captain Levi,” Connie laughed as he hopped onto his horse beside you. 

You rolled your eyes, probably closing them longer than necessary. “Shut up.” You pulled your hood over your eyes, “stop goofing off and focus on the mission. 

“Ah, Y/n, right,” an unfamiliar voice called out to you. Their footsteps quickly approached you, stopping short by the side of your horse. You looked in their direction, greeted by Hange with an eerily cheeky smile. It was like looking at a child with a secret who desperately wanted to spill. “Glad I could catch you.”

“C-captain Hange!” You quickly removed your hood with a bashful smile. “Yes, that’s right.”

Hange’s smile grew wider, causing you to glance at Connie and Jean for some sort of help. “I was told to come wake up a certain brat.” They handed you the steaming cup of tea carefully. 

You tried to hide your blush behind the cup as you drank quickly. It wasn’t the best tea you’ve ever had, but it certainly got the job done. With every sip, you could feel yourself gaining a little more energy to carry you through the day. Your mind wandered to Levi, probably already in his formation. After last night you thought he wouldn’t want to ever talk to you again, yet here he was sending you a cup of tea. You handed back the cup with a thankful smile, “guess he’s a softie after all.”

Hange laughed and shook their head, “I’ve met titans easier to understand than you two. Don’t go dying on him out there, rookie.” With that, Hange left, finding their place in the formation. 

The warmth from the tea didn’t last you long. Things quickly went to shit. It was arguably worse than the Battle of Trost. Everyone knew to wear their hoods to conceal their identities, but they didn’t know exactly why until she showed up. The female titan wiped out forces in the blink of an eye, but no retreat was called. Instead, you were ordered to perch the branches of the Titan Forest, acting as a distraction. Countless soldiers were lost, including all of Captain Levi’s squad except for Eren, before an eventual retreat was called. 

Upon arrival, the scouts were ordered to turn in Eren, but you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to care. Not when you had heard the word of Levi being injured. Your mind went into a frenzy with panic. You just needed to see him. You needed to know how badly he was injured. You needed to see for yourself he was okay. 

Without thinking, you barged into Levi’s quarters, only to run directly into Commander Erwin’s solid chest. You quickly stepped back, muttering various sorries despite the amused sound that left the commander. You didn’t waste any time making your way into the room once Erwin walked off.

“Knocking does exist, brat-” Levi was cut off by you flinging your arms around his neck. He couldn’t do this, not now. He couldn’t let himself indulge in the butterflies in his stomach or the soothing feeling of your embrace. He had just lost his entire squad, and the mission was a disaster. He didn’t have time for this right now. Levi lifted his hands to push you away but stopped short at the quiet sound of your sniffling. 

“I was- I.” You couldn’t seem to find the right words. Part of you wanted to thank him for the tea, while the other wanted to let him know how worried you were about him. You wanted to tell him that as inconsiderate as it might be, all you could do out there was hope he was still alive. Instead, you clung to Levi, your heart pouring itself out through your eyes and onto his ascot. You could feel his rigid frame slowly melting into your embrace.

Levi’s breaths grew labored as the embrace carried on. It was like he could feel all of your emotions, the grief, the relief, the guilt. He felt everything, and it mixed with his own feelings. He forced himself to muster enough strength to gently push you away by the shoulders. He wanted you to be upset, to stop this stupid display of affection that sent his heart into overtime.

“I-I told you already, dumb brat, that I don’t like you.”

“Then stop me,” you whispered with a wavering voice.You were done playing games. The vast number of comrades that were slaughtered by the female titan reminded you just how close everyone was to death. You’d be damned if you died before getting this opportunity. Slowly you closed the distance between your lips until you could feel his breath ghosting over your lips. “Tell me that cup wasn’t from you. Tell me I was alone in hoping you were safe while we were out there.” You hated how your voice was breaking with each statement. “Tell me I’m the only one who’s heart is about to leap out of their chest.” You nervously pressed your lips against his, relishing in his warmth.

Levi responded instantly, kissing you with a bruising force. Desire for you took over every thought until he yearned nothing more than to touch and be touched. He squeezes your hips possessively, pulling you flush against him. He couldn’t tell you any of those things, and you knew it. He sent you the cup at a point of weakness. Even as he fought the female titan, you managed to invade his thoughts until he had half a mind to go look for you. He wanted to protect you with the same ardor Mikasa had to protect Eren. You had somehow seen past his stoic walls, and it only fueled his hunger for you. 

Your hands fumbled with his ascot, stepping back once you set his neck free from it. You watched his eyes darken with an almost lustful look as you wrapped the piece of fabric into a bow around your ponytail. A quiet groan escaped his lips as your lips devoured his now exposed neck. Every nip and open mouth kiss made him weak in the knees, completely forgetting the dull pain in his ankle.

“You’re the only cup of tea I need.” The words fell from his kiss swollen lips before they even registered in his brain.

You broke into a bashful smile, his words stirring up a new kind of giddiness inside of you. “That was the cheesiest yet cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” You halted your assault on his neck to look up at him, “I didn’t think you had it in you. It almost puts my comment about coming close to death so you can sweep me off my feet to shame.” You pecked his lips as his usual annoyed expression returned. “Kinda sounds like you like me, Captain.”

“Get out,” Levi grumbled embarrassedly, causing you to giggle. The sound was equivalent to a clean room, filling him with a sense of pride and happiness. He could feel his ears burning as if someone was holding a flame to them. 

“Not until you tell me if I’m just any cup or your cup.”

“Relationships are pointless,” Levi answered. The look in your eye told him you weren’t going to let him rest until he gave a straight answer. “I’d like it if you were mine.”

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips, “I know. And for the record, I’d like if you were mine too,” you called over your shoulder as you walked out the door. 

You had already left the hall by the time Levi noticed you left with his ascot still tied around your ponytail. His usually private persona was pushed out the window by a sense of pride. You were his and that ascot made it clear as day.

Your new hair accessory and Levi’s suddenly missing ascot didn’t go unnoticed at dinner. Nor did the marks on Levi’s neck that Hange kept eyeing and giggling about. 

Levi could feel a smile threatening to spread across his lips as you walked with him back to his quarters after everyone left the Mess hall. You didn’t even let him go near his desk, carefully pushing him towards his bed as you fussed about him needing rest. Humanity’s strongest soldier was being babied by a brat with a big mouth and a bigger heart. 

Levi chuckled to himself as you climbed into bed with him. He hesitantly allowed you to pull him into your arms. He pressed his forehead against yours as he allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. He absentmindedly twirled one of your still damp curls around his finger. A comfortable silence filled the room as you both admired each other. You slid your free hand into his, lacing your fingers together. You pressed your lips to his knuckles as you came to the quiet realization that he was going to be your new reason to live. Being beside him felt like a breath of fresh air and you promised yourself you would do everything you could to hold onto him. You were going to see the world outside of the walls with him. 

He didn’t expect it, but your soothing touch lulled him into one of the best periods of sleep he’s had in years. Every time he woke up, you were still there with your hand in his. You made him think of a life outside of this normal. A life with you at his side as his wife and the mother of his children. Levi pulled you closer as he drifted back to sleep. You were going to be the death of him, and in a titan filled world, he couldn’t think of any better way to go.

[xjoonchildx]

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter six: no one but you

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you.  now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, smut

rating: 18+

word count: 5.6K

A/N: i sincerely hope you guys like the way this ends, it’s always so nerve-wracking to end a story! the epilogue to this story is posted as well and linked.  thank you to every single person who sent sweet messages of support it means the world to me.  SMUT WARNINGS APPLY IN THIS CHAPTER: oral (m/f), unprotected sex (only in fiction y’all) and hoseok thirst.

of course, i cannot post this story without shouting out some of the most supportive, killer people on this site.  you guys truly mean the world to me @ladyartemesia​ @ppersonna​ @taetaewonderland​ @hobi-gif​

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

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

There are perks to being the boss.

For Namjoon, it means calling the shots on the streets from his office in the sky.  Rarely does he leave the climate-controlled comfort of his pristine headquarters to get his hands dirty in the day-to-day business of the organization he runs.

Tonight, he’s making an exception.

Yoongi drives. Like a bat out of hell, as always.

It’s a thirty-minute ride from downtown Seoul to Incheon Port without traffic but Yoongi is on pace to finish it in just twenty.  Hoseok watches the lights on the expressway speed by from the backseat.  He tries hard to focus on the information Namjoon shares, the details he’ll need in order to ensure he doesn’t put himself or anyone else in danger tonight.  

But fuck, it’s so hard to concentrate with the taste of you still on his lips.  

He scrubs a hand down his face and takes a deep breath.  He forces himself to push the memory of your body in his hands and your skin in his mouth and your voice in his ear to the corner of his mind.  

Then he goes over the information again.

Namjoon wants to be in place at least ten minutes before the scheduled meet so he can figure out what’s going on before the Ssijog knows he’s there with his men.  

He wants guns to stay holstered unless he gives the signal.

He wants --

“You must have really scared the shit out of that guy, Jung,” Namjoon murmurs from the front seat.  Hoseok snaps back into focus to search for his boss’s reflection in the side mirror and finds Namjoon already looking at him. “He’s been blowing up his contact since last night, begging for personal protection.”

“He’s lucky I didn’t do worse,” Hoseok shrugs.  “I certainly could have.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt,” Namjoon agrees.  “Someday you’ll have to tell me the story of how you managed to be outside of his apartment when his handler picked him up.  Here I was, under the impression you had the night off.”

Hoseok swallows thickly.

“Just doing my job.”

There’s a twist to Namjoon’s mouth that Hoseok can’t read and it puts him on edge.  

“Well, I must thank you for your dedication to your job,” Namjoon continues. “You’ve really gone above and beyond the call of duty for this assignment.”

Hoseok looks away from the mirror.  “Yeah, sure,” he says quietly.  

The car falls into an uncomfortable silence.

Yoongi clears his throat.  

“So anyway --” he announces loudly, “-- Jimin and Tae were able to track Kang’s texts through some internet bullshit they mess around with. Apparently dude flipped out after you left his place and wouldn’t let up until his handlers agreed to meet him tonight.”

“At Incheon Port?” Hoseok asks, glad for the redirect.  “That’s a hell of a drive for a chat.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Namjoon says under his breath.  

The car falls silent once again.

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

Mun Kiwoo has a reputation for being messy.

The man at the top sets the tone for the organization, and Mun is no exception.  His men are known for their brutality, his deals often go south, and by most accounts his syndicate is hanging on by a thread.

But it’s still hanging on.

Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi watch quietly from their vantage point behind a shipping container as Mun waits in the dark, cigarette in hand. He looks like an unmade bed -- shirt rumpled and half-tucked into his wrinkled dress pants.  He lights one cigarette off of another as he answers a series of calls on his cell.  

His agitation seems to rise each time it rings again.

Hoseok takes stock of the two guards Mun has at his side tonight.  They’re bulky men with huge arms and round bodies -- the kind of guys who look dangerous due to sheer size, but would be slow to respond in a physical fight.  Namjoon holds up two fingers to confirm they’re the only men with Mun and Hoseok nods.

Headlights bounce off the pavement after a few more minutes of waiting.

A black car pulls up close to the water’s edge and Mun Kiwoo ends his call just as he lights another cigarette.  

Kang Donghyuk is the first out of the car, followed closely by his Ssijog handler.  Kang is dragging his ass and even from a distance, Hoseok can make out the bandage over the side of his face.

Hope it hurts, motherfucker.

“Mr. Kang,” Mun Kiwoo’s voice is clear now, loud enough for all three men to hear.  “You have been rather insistent about this meeting. I’m a busy guy.  What do you want?”

All three men strain to listen to Donghyuk’s response, but it’s too muffled to catch.  Yoongi brings his hands to his throat to make a choking gesture.  Can’t hear shit, he mouths.  You choked him too hard.

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“That sounds like your problem,” Mun laughs in response to whatever Kang has said.  “Not mine.”

Donghyuk gestures wildly as he tries to make his case, likely pleading for the protection of the Ssijog.   Mun Kiwoo looks unmoved.

“I’m not interested in causing any more trouble with the Gajog, Mr. Kang.  This entire situation has been a means to an end.  Stirring more shit with Kim Namjoon is not in my best interest.”

Namjoon signals to Yoongi and Hoseok that it’s time to move.  All three men step out from their cover behind the shipping container, hands in front of their bodies to demonstrate none are holding their weapons.

“Fucking hell,” Mun Kiwoo groans when he spots them.  “I don’t have time for this shit.”

His guards bow up at his side, both men reaching for their guns.  Mun has the good sense to raise a hand and stop them from pulling their firearms -- which keeps Yoongi and Hoseok from doing the same.  All of the men face off in silence for a moment, each side waiting to see if the other will do something to break the fragile peace.

Kang Donghyuk whines under his breath and Hoseok shoots a warning glare at him.  He drops his gaze to the ground and shuts his mouth.

“You say you don’t want trouble with me, Mun and yet --” Namjoon snarls, “-- you have this piece of shit working my sister. Explain.”

“You know how these rich boys are, Kim,” Mun chuckles.  “They develop a bad habit -- or in this idiot’s case, two -- and daddy’s money isn’t enough anymore.  They’re easy to buy.”

Donghyuk looks from Namjoon to Mun, panic in his wide eyes.

“They’re trying to kill me,” he rasps.

“So what?” Mun laughs.  He smiles wide to reveal a mouth like an abandoned graveyard, teeth broken and scattered.  “This guy thinks we’re friends,” he jeers, jerking a thumb in Donghyuk’s direction.  “He’s too stupid to figure out that he served a purpose and now he doesn’t anymore.  Simple as that.”  

Namjoon sucks in a breath with obvious irritation.

“I’m still waiting to hear what any of this shit has to do with my sister.”

“Ah, yes,” Mun says, stubbing out his cigarette and getting back to the task at hand. “Listen, I don’t have anything against your sister personally, okay? Lim Joowon is my son and I want him back.  He can’t spend the next 15 years behind bars. You understand that, right? Doing whatever it takes for your family?”

Namjoon utters a curse under his breath.

“I’ll give your sister some credit, though -- she’s tenacious.  I thought she’d give up after we took her digital files,” Mun admits.  “Instead she’s cost me a hell of a lot more money.  I’ve had to start cutting a lot more checks to ensure this shit goes away.”

“She’s not the type to roll over and play dead, Mun,” Namjoon growls through gritted teeth.  

“The pigheaded gene runs in the family, huh?” Mun grins. “Look, let me level with you Kim, man to man.  I don’t even need your sister at this point. I’ve paid enough people to fuck this case from the inside out.  But I won’t lie, she is my insurance.  If any of the higher-ups start asking questions about why this case fell apart -- who better to point the finger at than the sweet young prosecutor with the dirty family connections, hmm?”

Namjoon tenses, hand reaching for the gun at his side.  Yoongi stops him with a muttered warning.

“None of us give a fuck about what happens to your son, Mun,” Namjoon says. “What I have a problem with is you sending that piece of shit --” he points at the trembling Kang Donghyuk, “ -- into her fucking home. Invading her space.  You crossed a line.”

“You’re right,” Mun agrees lightly.  “It was rude. Uncalled for.  I’m gonna apologize for it right now.”

He pulls his pistol from his side and the sound of clinking metal bounces off the shipping containers as everyone pulls their guns.  Hoseok trains his pistol directly at the shaking Kang Donghyuk and silently prays for the chance to pull the trigger. Mun Kiwoo’s gun is pointed at Namjoon and Namjoon’s is pointed right back.

Then Mun’s face lights up with a bizarre smile. He swings the point of his pistol in the direction of Donghyuk and pulls the trigger twice.

Donghyuk sputters as he falls to the floor.

Hoseok and Yoongi exchange looks.  

Namjoon stares at Mun incredulously.

“What?” Mun’s nonchalance is comical.  “You wanted to do that too, right?  Besides, that guy owes everyone in the city money. I promise you, his own mother won’t even miss him.”

“Jesus,” Yoongi mutters under his breath. “This guy is fucking nuts.”

Mun puts his pistol away and his men follow suit.  Namjoon signals for Yoongi and Hoseok to do the same.  

“Consider that a goodwill gesture,” Mun says breezily.  “An official apology from me, to you.  And please pass along my consideration to your sister.  Please assure her that none of this is personal.  But I will make sure my son stays out of prison.  And like it or not, she’s going to play some kind of role in that.”

Namjoon stares off into the water.

“I can’t control my sister, Mun.  She makes her own choices,” he says after a moment.  “But let me be clear, this is the first and last polite discourse we’re going to have about this situation.  I don’t want you, your goons or any --” he glances at the bleeding pile of Kang Donghyuk on the floor, “-- paid help going near her.  Not in her office, not in her home. Nowhere. Are we clear?”

Mun Kiwoo lights another cigarette and smiles wide, the space in his teeth prominent against the gleaming ember hanging from his mouth.  

“Crystal.”

On the way back to the car, Hoseok hears the heavy splash of Kang Donghyuk’s body hitting the water down below.

He shuts his eyes against the rush of pleasure he feels as he climbs into the backseat.

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

YOU

Something isn’t right.

You stare at the empty seat across the conference table -- the one where Hyejin normally sits -- and something twists in your gut.  She’s out sick today.  You can’t even remember the last time she took a sick day.

All morning, you’ve tried to convince yourself that it’s no big deal.  That you’re working yourself up for nothing.

But Donghyuk is out today, too.  

Vaguely, you register the sound of your boss’s voice at the front of the room. Any minute now, you’ll be asked to brief the team on the status of your case, but you can’t think straight.  You can’t focus on anything but the feeling in the pit of your stomach that something is wrong.  

Your thoughts race back to last night, back to your brother taking his men away for business in the middle of the night.

Back to Hoseok.

You try not to think about what it felt like to have his warm body pressed against yours. The way he smelled like fresh laundry and spice. The way you unraveled the moment he touched you.  

Your phone pulses with an incoming text.

namjoon: i’ve asked jungkook to bring you to the office tonight after work [ 1:25 PM ]

namjoon: a lot to discuss [ 1:26 PM ]

Your brain grinds to a halt as you stare at the messages.

It’s like everything is wrong and everything is right, all at the same time.

“Miss. Kim?”

You look up to see your boss staring at you, one expectant eyebrow raised.  You take a deep breath, line up your papers and stand to take your place at the front of the room.

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

The sense of déjà vu that hits you as you make the long walk across your brother’s office is nearly overwhelming.  This is exactly how this entire mess began weeks ago -- with you summoned to see Namjoon after hours, with Yoongi and Hoseok flanking him on either side.

But there is one thing different about tonight.

When you briefly lock gazes with Hoseok as you make your way to Namjoon’s plush chair, there is a warmth behind his dark eyes you can see from a distance. It’s a complete contrast to the first time you ever saw him, when you thought you could freeze to death from the ice in his glare.

You look away before anyone can catch the flush working its way up your neck.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” you brother begins evenly.  “I finally have some answers for you about what’s going on.”

“Well, I’m ready to hear them,” you exhale, taking a seat.  Your eyes drift over the papers strewn scattered across his desk.  

“We’ve learned that the reason the Ssijog want your case against Lim Joowon to fold is because Lim is Mun Kiwoo’s son.”

You raise a brow.

“That’s news to me.  I didn’t even know Mun Kiwoo had a son.”

“Neither did we,” Namjoon admits.  “Apparently this is his only son and the man he intends to pass control of the Ssijog down to.  So it makes sense that he’s so hell-bent on seeing this case fall apart.”

He picks one of the papers off his desk.

“This is the more problematic piece of the puzzle,” Namjoon says quietly.  Your chest tightens in response to the expression on his face. “Jimin and Taehyung tracked a Ssijog account making payouts.  Payouts to people in your office.”

He holds the piece of paper out to you.

“There are six names on that list.”

You take a deep breath before taking the sheet from his hands.  

Your eyes scan down the document, taking in the blows, one by one.  Two receptionists.  One paralegal.  

Lee Hyejin.  

Kang Donghyuk.  

Park Soo.

You say nothing as you stare at the list, taking in the names again.

Someone you called a friend.  Someone you’d allowed into your bed.  The boss you’d bent over backwards trying to impress.  You stare at the black-and-white evidence of betrayal in your hands, reading the words over and over -- expecting to feel sadness or rage or humiliation or something.  

Nothing comes.

“Give us a moment, would you please?”

Yoongi and Hoseok file out of the room quietly at Namjoon’s command.  The second the heavy door to the office clicks shut, he clears his throat.  “There is something else we need to discuss, Amsaja,” your brother continues quietly.  “Kang Donghyuk is dead.”

“Good.”

Namjoon’s eyes go wide at the quick, calm delivery of your response.

You stand to walk to his sideboard to pour a drink.  You have no idea what’s inside the decanter, only that whatever it is promises a burn you want to feel right now. You pour a glass and take a sip, leaning against the heavy wooden piece.

“Did you kill him?”

“No. The Ssijog beat us to it,” Namjoon admits.  “But Hoseok paid Donghyuk a personal visit at home to convey our -- displeasure -- at his involvement in this mess. He damned near choked that man to death hours before Mun Kiwoo put two bullets in him.”

“I’m sorry anyone has ever tried you because I promise you they are going to pay.”

The words Hoseok spoke in your kitchen surface in your mind.  

They’d sent a bolt of pleasure through you at the time -- triggering a kind of primitive response you’d be embarrassed to admit out loud.

And somehow that response pales in comparison to what you’re feeling right now.

A normal woman wouldn’t find satisfaction in the idea of Donghyuk cowering in fear inside his apartment.  A normal woman wouldn’t feel warmth spread through her entire body at the mental image of Hoseok wrapping his hands around Donghyuk’s throat.  You slip a finger under the collar of your blouse and search for your scar -- closing your eyes at the familiar feel of the raised skin.  

You remind yourself that you are not a normal woman.

“Hoseok uncovered Kang’s involvement with the Ssijog even before we found the payouts.”  Your brother pauses, a wry twist to his mouth as he continues.  “He can be a very determined man when something is important to him.”

Namjoon holds your gaze for just a beat too long after delivering that statement.  You look away and walk to his office window.

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now, Amsaja,” you brother says.  You can hear the sound of him pouring his own drink behind you.  “Your silence has me concerned.”

You’re thinking about every time Hyejin feigned concern for you and tried to get you to open up. The days Donghyuk insisted he take you to lunch or to dinner when you insisted you were too swamped.  The bullshit little speech Park Soo gave you the night of the charity dinner about keeping Seoul from falling into the hands of criminals.

You’re thinking about what a joke they all are -- dressing up and looking down their noses at the criminal element they claim to despise.  Wearing their fake piety like a badge of honor and paying for their fine things with dirty money.  

You’re thinking that you’d rather choose a hundred street thugs over any one of their kind.  At least your brother has the balls to wear his sins on his sleeve.  

Namjoon joins you at the window, glass in hand.  

“What I’m thinking, Jaegyueo,” you say calmly, “Is that a lot of things are starting to make sense for me.  I haven’t felt this clear in a very long time.  So, thank you.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your brother’s mouth and you return it.

You clink your glasses together in a toast.

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

You are two whiskeys deep when you leave Namjoon’s office.  

Hoseok is waiting in a chair in the hallway.  He stands to his feet when you appear from behind the heavy wooden door.  

You suck in a breath as you take him in -- the sharp beauty of his face and the soft curve of his mouth and the way his suit hugs the lines of his lean body.  You realize, with more than a little embarrassment, that you are staring.

“I’ve got the car warming downstairs,” Hoseok says carefully.  “If you’re ready to go, that is.”

“Yes. Hoseok, I --” you swallow thickly,  “-- I never apologized for what I said to you.  I didn’t mean those things. I’m so sorry.”

Hoseok steps close and reaches one hand out to tuck your hair behind your ear.  You shut your eyes, leaning into his touch and inhaling his scent.

“You’ve had a hell of a night,” he murmurs.  “We can talk about that some other time.  Let’s get you home, yeah?”

You open your eyes to look up at him just as Yoongi rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks.

“Glad this isn’t awkward,” he mutters, before turning to walk back the same way he came.

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

The air in Hoseok’s car is thick with tension on the ride home.

You’ve stopped pretending to not stare, eyes fixed on Hoseok while his eyes stay glued to the road.  He guides the car through a sharp turn and you catch the way he winces as his hand grips the steering wheel.  

A throb of guilt hits you square in the chest.

“You’re hurt.”

“Nah,” Hoseok deflects quickly.  “Just a little sore.”

He won’t look at you.  Why won’t he look at you?

“Namjoon told me you nearly choked Donghyuk to death,” you say quietly, studying his face for any reaction. He slows the car to a stop at a red light and rubs his fingers across his mouth, stares out of his window.

“I wanted to kill him,” he admits.  He takes his aching hand off the steering wheel and flexes his fingers as if reliving the memory of that night. “I almost did.”

That embarrassing reaction flares inside of you again.  This time it slides down your back and pools low between your legs and you have to squeeze your thighs together in response.  You shiver as you remember the promises he made while pressing his body to yours.

“Tell me what you want. I swear to God, I’ll give it to you.”

You’ve never wanted anything as badly as you do Jung Hoseok right now.

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

You force yourself to wait for the elevator doors to shut.

The second they do, you crush your body and your mouth to Hoseok’s.  If you catch him off-guard, there’s no way to tell -- not with the way he immediately backs you into the elevator wall, slotting one knee between your thighs.

“No one gets to hurt you anymore,” he groans the words into the shell of your ear, teeth scraping against the sensitive skin of your neck.  “Just like no one gets to touch you anymore.  No one but me.”

The strangled sigh that escapes you is the closest thing Hoseok is going to get to a thank you right now.  You whimper in agreement, gasping when his fingers grip your ass to pull you flush against him.  The swollen outline of his cock brushes against your stomach and you shudder.

The elevator ride is too long and too short, all at the same time.  Hoseok backs you through the doors as soon as they open, fumbling in his pocket for the keys while you suck bruises into his throat.  By some miracle, he gets the door open and both of you through it in one piece.

“Fuck,” Hoseok swears as you wrap your arms around his neck, grinding against his insistent cock.  He has to drag you both into the bedroom as you press against him like a dead weight, teeth nipping at his bottom lip as you both stumble into the bedroom.  You drop out of his grasp when the bed hits the back of your knees.

Hoseok stands back, chest heaving with exertion.

“I need you to hear you say it,” he pants.  “Please.”

You sit up straight on the edge of the bed and unbutton your blouse, slipping it off without hesitation.  “No one gets to touch me,” you breathe, reaching to unclasp your bra.  You toss it away.

“No one but you.”  

Hoseok’s eyes darken to near black.

He shrugs off his suit jacket and slowly pulls off his holster and gun, placing both carefully on top of your dresser.  Then he turns back, body looming over yours.  He cups your cheek with one large hand, looking down at you with such heat that your breath hitches in your chest.

You lean into his touch, fingertips grazing the contour of his cock beneath his suit pants.  

“You promised to give me anything I want,” you whisper, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. He nods slowly, the rasp in his voice betraying the calm on his face.

“Anything.  Name it.”

“I want to take care of you,” you say, pulling the hem of his shirt out of his pants.  Your fingers work the buttons open, one by one.  “Let me.”

Hoseok exhales a heavy breath as you open his shirt and stroke your hands down his chest. You give yourself a moment to admire the lean strength of his body, fingers stroking over the metal tags that hang just above one dark, flat nipple.

His stomach tightens and his cock twitches in his pants when you tilt forward to press a soft kiss to the golden skin just above his belt.  You work it open with unsteady hands and his pants follow just a moment later.

“I want to make you feel good,” you whisper, nuzzling the outline of his length with your cheek.  You push his boxers down his slim hips just enough to expose the head of his cock.  “I don’t want you to think about anything but this.”

Hoseok groans when you flick your tongue against him.  

His cock throbs under your fingertips through the fabric of his underwear when you dip down to tease the head with your mouth.  You lap at the salty moisture gathered at the swollen tip and his head drops back.

“Sweetheart, please --” he grits out, hands reaching for your hair.  He winds his fingers through the strands and jerks when you rake your teeth across the wet ridge under the head of his cock. “-- don’t tease me.”

Some other time you might play the delayed gratification game with him.  You might take hours to torture him and keep him dangling at the precipice of pleasure.  Tonight, though -- the only thing you want to do is make him come so hard he can’t see straight.

“I won’t,” you promise sweetly, pulling the rest of his thick length free from his boxers to wrap your warm fingers around him.  You flick your gaze up to appreciate the way his head is tipped back in pleasure, lips parted.

“Look at me,” you murmur, pumping him with languid strokes.

His eyes are glassy with arousal when he opens them to gaze down at you.  You make sure he’s watching as you take him deep, hollowing your cheeks as you draw your mouth across his length.  He gathers your hair in his hands so he can appreciate the unobstructed view of your private show.

“No one gets to touch you anymore,” you whisper.  You take him down as far as you can again, tongue dragging against the thick vein that runs the length of his cock.  You are panting when you pull off him, tongue running the seam of your lower lip as you catch your breath.

“No one but me.”

Hoseok’s dick jerks in your hand in response, hand tightening in your hair as you lick a long stripe up his shaft.  He chokes out a moan as you lick at the sensitive spot just under the head of his cock, eyes fixed on his.

“No more,” he croaks.  

You pull your mouth away reluctantly, tongue swiping at the taste of him on your lips and the sight seems to set him off.  He grabs your face with both hands, groaning into your mouth as he claims it.

He pulls away, panting.

“Lie back,” he demands between breaths.  You comply without question.

Hoseok leans over you, arms braced on either side of your body as he drops his head down to take one nipple between his teeth.  Your hips jerk at the stimulation and you squirm underneath him, thighs slippery with your own excitement.  He laves at both nipples slowly, thoroughly, until they are aching and wet.  Then he trails a soft line of kisses back up to your ear.

“I want to taste what’s mine,” he whispers, and a pang of arousal hits you so hard you forget to breathe.  You lift your hips to help him pull your skirt away along with your soaked panties and he sinks to his knees on the floor in front of you. Every muscle in your body locks in anticipation.

Hoseok nudges your legs apart with his hands, placing gentle kisses along your inner thighs.  His dark eyes are half-hooded with pleasure by the time he drapes your legs over his shoulders.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” he groans when you are fully spread open for him.  He drops a kiss on your mound and your body jolts at the sensation, every nerve ending standing at attention.  He moves lower, long fingers tracing the outline of your swollen cunt and you suck in a breath.  

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, dipping one finger into your damp heat.  “Is this all for me?”

“Yes,” you choke out, hands gripping the sheets as his finger flexes inside of you.

“Only for you.”

Hoseok makes a sound of satisfaction deep in his chest before sealing his lips over your aching clit.  You shudder against his mouth when he pulls back to soothe you with the flat of his tongue.  “You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined how you would taste,” Hoseok groans, licking deeply into your wetness.  “It doesn’t even come close.  Nothing comes close to this.”

“Hoseok --”  your hands come off of the sheets to grip into his hair, “-- Hoseok, please don’t stop.”

Your senses are so heightened that just the pressure of the heel of his hand against your cunt is making you crazy.  His finger crooks deep inside you, stroking against your swollen walls while his lips and teeth toy with your clit.  You whine at the stimulation, at the wet drag of his tongue that has you writhing beneath him.

“You’re close sweetheart, I can hear it,” Hoseok’s voice is ragged with arousal. “Let me hear you.  Come for me.”

You clutch his hair between your fingers, moaning brokenly as the heat between your legs simmers to a boil.

“Hoseok --”

“That’s it,” he praises you with dirty words spoken in the sweetest way. “Let me taste you. Let me hear you.”

Hoseok is prepared the moment you come apart.

He grasps your hips firmly in those large, warm hands of his -- tongue and lips persistent as the live wire inside you tightens and snaps. The force of your orgasm shakes your entire body and leaves you begging and breathless. Hoseok savors every drop of your release until your hips sink back into the mattress and you protest weakly against the threat of overstimulation.

The mattress dips under you as Hoseok joins you on the bed, lips swollen with use and mouth marked with your taste.  His head dips into the hollow of your neck, nipping gently at the skin, while his fingers skate over the soft skin of your stomach and thighs.  

You shiver in his hold, closing your eyes for a moment to savor the feeling of his body on yours.

“I want to watch you come like that every day,” Hoseok whispers into your ear.  “Only for me.”

“Only for you,” you agree in a whisper, finding your voice after what seems like ages.  

You slip one hand between you, fingers wrapping firmly around the rigid cock pressed against your stomach.  Hoseok groans when you tighten your hand around him.

“Hoseok,” you breathe, feeling a pulse between your legs that seems to beat in time with the throb of his cock in your palm, “Fuck me please, I’m losing my mind.”

His hoarse chuckle sends a shiver up your spine as he moves to cover you completely with his body.  He lines up the head of his cock at your entrance and you tilt your hips up into his.  

“Please,” you plead again, lifting your head to brush your lips against his.  “Now.”

He sinks his cock into you slowly, inch by inch, groaning at the tight fit of your cunt around him.  The stretch inside of you is nearly too much -- you whimper when he bottoms out and he drops his forehead to yours.

“You okay? Am I hurting you?”

His entire body feels like a rubber band ready to snap -- coiled energy waiting to be released.  But he holds back the instinct to move until you nod your agreement.

“You feel so good,” you murmur, nudging his hips to move with your own.  You stroke your hands down the slick skin of his back.  “I’m so full right now.”

Hoseok swears under his breath as he tentatively rocks his hips against yours, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside of you.  You wrap your legs around him as the discomfort subsides and the only sensation that’s left is the pleasant pressure of his cock against your walls.

Hoseok’s hips move harder as your whimpers melt into moans.

“Dammit,” he swears, head dropping low between his shoulder blades.  “So tight and wet for me.  So perfect for me.”

You look up to take in the sight of his perfect face slack with pleasure, mouth parted and face flushed with exertion.  His dog tags hang from his neck, swaying as his hips begin to piston in earnest.  You pull on them to force his mouth close to yours.

“Only for you,” you whisper, “No one else.”

Hoseok’s steady rhythm stutters when you whisper those words into his mouth and press your lips to his.  His hips jerk wildly as his release races up his shaft.  He laces his fingers into yours, fucking you deep into the mattress in those final seconds as he loses all control to chasing his end.

He comes with your name on his lips.

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

Hoseok breathes deeply into your hair as you stroke your fingers across the lean lines of his chest, fingers tracing the metal outline of his dog tags.  You lie together like that for a while, skin to skin.

Your thoughts are loud in the quiet.  

You’re used to the bitter sting of betrayal by now.  

Long before Lee Hyejin or Kang Donghyuk or Park Soo ever sold you out for a check, your own father betrayed you for the bottle.  You of all people know too well that most people aren’t to be trusted.

But then Hoseok’s fingers drag lightly across your back and they bring you back to the here and now -- back to the promise he made to you tonight.

“No one gets to hurt you anymore.”

And you decide to trust just one more time.

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

@saintjeonofbusan @lemonjoonah @illnevertrustmyselfagain @sunkissed725 @taetaewonderland @shadowhale @sugaminyoonjiji @jinhitwhore @trust-me-im-joly @daydreambrliever @jjeonjoon @ultraanonymousey @yoon-bug @multistantrash17 @poohsaidhi @alyboo-jpeg @sahmfanficbts @yoongissugarmommy @ppersonna @p-polaroid @vi-hoshi @stressedinmedschool247 @jgissle12 @ctvrty @btsnatalena @strawbewymiwk @stephleee @jalexa83 @livanthi @fantasybangtan @trviahope​ @mono-kookie@hauntedlilies @sugasaidbultaoreune @yeojaa @secret-alphabets @hodginss@parkjimin-persona​

[punksarahreese]

Comfort | Restart

Medtober day 3 + 4 (event by @page-doctor-bekker)

Med student!Sarah; everyone needs a real support system

Word count: 2335

CW: minor parental gaslighting/manipulation

***

Sarah had hoped no one would notice, though she quickly realized her body gave itself away all too easily. No amount of caffeine could hide the sluggishness in her movements, her limbs feeling heavier than lead. If it wasn’t that it was probably the way her voice held no cheerful tone like it usually did, instead her words fell flat and had April casting her concerned glances.

She kept to herself that day, all too exhausted to even try to be social. As long as she made it through her clinical hours she could go home and sleep, at least for a few hours. She hadn’t gotten more than six the past few days, instead pouring over her textbooks that had taken their rightful place strewn across the floor. The exam for her latest rotation was coming up and Sarah was feeling the anxiety far more than usual. That was at the fault of her mother, though the woman would say it was her daughter’s problem alone.

“Sarah, you need to stop worrying over such silly things,” she had told her over the phone, “The only thing you should focus on is school.”

“Mom…”

“Now, you know how important this is. You don’t have time for friends, it will only slow you down. My daughter will be a doctor, right? You wouldn’t let me down after all this money I’ve sent…”

It always ended like that, the passive aggressive cherry on top of narcissism. Her mother wasn’t maternal in the slightest, though she would still use her relationship to Sarah for her benefit. Sure she made certain Sarah had all the money she needed to be successful, but it all came with a price. She was expecting her daughter to make a name for herself as a doctor, which would of course leave room for bragging and manipulation on Elizabeth’s part. Sarah’s whole future rested on her mother’s money as much as it did her own success, which was an unfortunate feat she was beginning to despise.

“Reese,” if she hadn’t already been sitting down, the sudden voice on her right could have knocked her off her feet. She winced at her own jumpiness, turning to look at Connor sheepishly.

“Dr. Rhodes,” she pushed a scrap piece of medical tape into her textbook before letting it fall shut on the marked page, “Hi.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah… yes of course. Just getting some studying in.”

“Uh huh,” he looked at her for a moment and Sarah knew she probably wasn’t helping her case by looking like a whole mess, “Ava was looking for you.”

Usually a mention of her mentor would immediately grab her attention and send Sarah scurrying off to find out what she wanted. This day, however, she wanted to do the opposite. Ava could see through her in seconds and Sarah didn’t have the energy to be chastised for being spacey or distracted. She was burnt out and as much as she enjoyed being on the surgeon’s service she would much rather go home.

“Oh?” Was all she said, getting to her feet. She checked her watch, realizing it was just in time for her break to begin. Sarah gathered her textbook along with her glasses she had opted to wear that day instead of contacts. One more look at Connor preceded her reply, “I’ll go find her in a bit then.”

She didn’t look back at the fellow but she knew he was probably watching her in confusion, her attitude much different than usual. Usually she would be following after Ava like a lost puppy, so the fact that she didn’t even ask where she was was wildly out of character. Sarah didn’t have the time to worry too much about it though, a chirp from her phone letting her know her mother had more to say to her.

***

“Check on your med student.”

“What?” The look Connor got from his colleague was a guarded one, clearly she didn’t know where this was going. Connor and Sam had been pestering her for a while about her soft spot for Sarah Reese, so Ava had become accustomed to assume teasing would ensue at any mention of her.

“She looks like a mess today,” he said as he snatched a chip from the bag she had been munching on, “Bloodshot eyes and way more jumpy than usual, and that’s saying something.”

“What happened?”

Connor shrugged but couldn’t help the little smirk at how concerned Ava immediately became, “Don’t know. That’s why you should check on her.”

***

Ava found her in the locker room reserved for med students and interns, thanks to one of Sarah’s classmates who pointed their instructor in the right direction. She wasn’t sure what to expect when she nudged the door open but what she got was a bit of a shock.

Sarah was sitting in front of her locker, knees pulled up to her chest and her grey scrubs already a bit dusty from the floor. She was staring blankly at the textbook propped up on the bench, completely unfocused from the words. She mustn’t have heard Ava come in because she didn’t react, the only sound being a sniffle.

“Sarah?”

Just like Connor had pointed out, she jumped far more than she had ever before. Ava knew the medical student was on edge most days, but this seemed a bit concerning. That worry only grew when she came around the corner to face Sarah properly, not expecting quite the sight she found.

Sarah’s eyes were swollen and red, as though she had been crying for quite some time. That theory was pretty much proven by the tears tracking down her ruddy cheeks, leaving little stains where they landed on her top. Her hands shook as they worried the fabric over her knees, a rhythmic movement that must have been an unconscious thought. The med student looked like she hadn’t slept for days or like she had been to Hell and back; or maybe both.

“D-doctor Bekker,” she looked up in alarm at her mentor, very deer-in-the-headlights as if she was terrified of what she might say. Something told Ava it wasn’t a coincidence that she hadn’t seen Sarah at all that day, since the other woman looked like she had been caught red handed by just the person she didn’t want to see.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Ava was crouching beside her without a thought, “What happened to formalities making you nervous?”

“I-”

“Sarah, what’s wrong?”

The brunette’s rapid head shake sent rouge curls tumbling into her line of vision, “Nothing! I’m fine.”

“Oh yeah you definitely look fine,” she was a bit shocked with the casual way Ava dropped onto the ground beside her, seeming unlike the focused surgeon she knew. Ava should be working, not sitting on the dirty locker room floor with her medical student who had spent the whole day avoiding her like the plague. Still, she showed no signs of leaving without an explanation, which made Sarah sigh.

“My cardio rotation exam is coming up…”

“Yes and? We’ve been preparing for this for weeks, Reese. You know the content like the back of your hand.”

“I don’t… it’s not that easy,” she protested, “If I don’t do perfect on every exam from here on out I might not match into the program I want. I need to be perfect, Ava.”

“No, don’t do that. You aren’t allowed to psych yourself out like this. You will do just fine, I didn’t train you to hide from the scary stuff now did I?”

“No…”

The blonde nodded affirmatively, “Exactly. So you’ve been studying and not sleeping, I take it?”

Sarah scoffed, “What gave it away?”

“The bags under your eyes are bigger than Connor’s ego,” she teased, “Plus the fact that you haven’t put that textbook away all day and you’re shaking like you do when you’re living off of caffeine.”

“Not fair,” Sarah sighed, “Don’t psychoanalyze me; that’s doctor Charles’ job.”

“Oh I would never take his job,” Ava replied, “I have a hateful relationship with Sigmund Freud and refused to do psych after med school.”

That was what finally got a smile out of Sarah, though it was followed by an incredulous headshake. Of course Ava would say something silly or unrelated to make her feel a bit better, she always did. She shifted uncomfortably on the hard flooring, looking at her mentor cautiously.

“Why are you here, Ava?”

“Because I needed to check on you.”

“You have other things to do…”

“Sarah, you’ve been spacey and avoiding me all day. I can’t very well let my star med student blow off rounds just to sit on this Petri dish of a floor and cry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, just tell me what’s really wrong so I can help.”

“I told you… exams.”

“Yeah but exam stress doesn’t often make you look like you’ve been crying for hours straight. What happened, Sarah?”

She knew she was backed into a corner, very aware of Ava’s concerned, stern eyes watching her every move. It’s not that she didn’t want to talk to her, Ava was probably the only person she wanted to talk to about this, but it wasn’t that simple.

“Exams are coming up; I’m moving to neuro in a couple weeks.”

“Yes? What… oh.” The surgeon seemed to have a sudden realization about what really was wrong. She sighed, slumping back against the locker beside Sarah’s before replying, “Reese, are you upset you won’t be on my service anymore?”

“Don’t say it like that,” she couldn’t help the whine in her tone, “I know I’m being a baby about it, just forget it.”

“No, Sarah,” the comforting hand that fell on her knee made her jump a bit, “It’s okay to be upset about it. I know you weren’t all too excited for CT in the beginning so it’s… rather endearing that you like it so much now.”

Sarah’s cheeks flamed at that and she tried to hide them behind her hands, not replying. She hated how upset the thought of rotation change made her, especially since she never even wanted to do cardio. Pathology was going to be her specialty in the end so that’s the residency she was applying for. She had no reason to feel so attached to cardiothoracics, not to mention the gut wrenching worry that Ava would forget about her.

“Hey,” Ava nudged her gently, “Sarah?”

“My mom is on my ass,” she admitted suddenly, “She’s very controlling and our whole relationship is based on money. She expects me to only think about school and stop ‘playing around’ in clinicals because I’m supposed to go to path in the end. That’s why I wanted to hate cardio, I shouldn’t have gotten attached.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” she shook her head, “It’s irrational the way she makes me so anxious but… I need to do perfect, Ava. I can’t afford any other outcome, you know?”

“That’s far too much pressure on you,” Ava looked at her seriously, “You’re allowed to have a life, Sarah.”

“Not in her eyes. I have to be a pathologist first and a human second or my mother won’t be happy.”

“And what about you? Are you going to be happy?”

“That doesn’t… it doesn’t matter.”

The blonde scoffed, “That’s rubbish and you know it. You can’t do your best if you aren’t sleeping and you sure as hell won’t do well in something you’re not passionate about.”

“But-.”

“No arguing,” she couldn’t help the small amusement at Sarah’s immediate compliance, “Please take care of yourself, Reese. Do this for you, not anyone else, or you’ll regret it.”

Ava didn’t wait for an answer, instead she got to her feet and dusted off her dark pants. She held out a hand for Sarah, looking at her with expectant eyes. The student let herself be tugged up off the floor, though she had trouble holding eye contact for very long.

“Sarah?”

She hummed in reply, busy wiping ruefully at the tears that had started to fall again during their talk. She saw the worry in her mentor’s face and it hurt a lot more than she wanted to admit. Ava Bekker cared for her of all people and here she was spending the day sulking and avoiding her.

“Come here.”

She was a bit taken aback when the blonde opened her arms, offering a hug for the first time. She wasn’t a physically affectionate person as far as Sarah had seen, not with her students especially. Still, it had been a very long time since she had received any sort of comfort like that and she had a hard time finding a response.

Eventually she did melt cautiously into Ava’s arms, surprised by how strong and secure they felt.

The surgeon didn’t say anything, just let Sarah lean into her until she relaxed into the embrace like expected. It was clear the other woman didn’t get a lot of physical comfort and Ava felt her stomach twinge a bit at how socially distant Sarah seemed. She deserved a support system, especially in such a competitive med program, and it broke her heart to realize she didn’t have much of one.

“Listen, you are a brilliant student, even if you have trouble with confidence. Enjoy neuro, don’t waste that time being upset and instead learn as much as you can. Don’t doubt yourself or downplay your abilities just because you think you should be in a lab instead. You would make an amazing surgeon, Sarah, whether it’s in CT or not.”

“Ava,” her reply was muffled slightly by her hair, “I don’t…”

“Just put yourself first, okay? And don’t be afraid to ask for guidance. Even if I’m not your mentor anymore once your rotation is up… I’m here, I promise.”

Sarah couldn’t think of a meaningful reply, overwhelmed by it all but still soothed by the lilac scent that was so Ava. All she could do was mumble a “thank you”, but in that moment it was more than enough.