#why is organizing so embarrassing like hey can you please see my vision.

[palms-upturned]

.

[bubblyhoney]

win for me

warnings: lAnGuAgE, alcohol consumption (both reader and all other characters are of age to drink), marijuana use, Making Out™️, a miniscule Flowers from 1970 reference. PSA: WHEN UR INTOXICATED AND/OR AT A PARTY, TELL UR FRIENDS WHO YOU WILL BE WITH AND WHERE YOU WILL BE AT ALL TIMES. DRINK AND PARTY SAFELY!

tags: sapnap x fem!reader

summary: a collection of moments throughout the beginning of your relationship

words: 5000

A/N: even though this isn’t my most organized or perfect fic this was so incredibly fun to write. and it’s a college!au!! one of my favs. hope you guys like!! let's pretend the pandemic doesn't exist for this one too (please wear ur masks btw)

-

Sophomore Year:

Smells like shit in here is your first thought upon entering the laundromat.

It does, in all honesty. What would you expect a place where college students wash three months of dirty clothes and comforters with vomit to smell like? Urine and just a hint of marijuana, incidentally. The door closes noisily behind you and a guy in a black baseball hat turns his head at the noise. Half of his face is hidden underneath the shadow of his scruff and he says nothing, but you still offer an obligatory polite-stranger smile. The place is pretty deserted, what for it being nearly 4 in the morning. And you’re a rare kind of customer; only a few things to wash and you brought your own detergent.

There’s an empty washer next to an old woman in an acid-trip of a parka, and you sweep past the few other patrons with your mesh bag close. The man in the hat nods at you as you pass, looking up from his phone.

Okay. Dark load in one and delicates in the other, you remind yourself. The quarters get pushed through the slot (not without dropping three and having to scramble to pick them up before they disappear between the machines) and you fill the dispensers with a flowery laundry detergent your roommates hates. Oh, and the clothes go in. Done. You relax into a cracked plastic booth around the corner of the machine, pulling a book of crosswords from your bag.

Somebody yelps halfway through filling out a five letter word (“a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep”) and you jump. Baseball Cap rips open the dryer, fumbling around and supplying a pair of gray sweatpants. You can’t help but watch. He digs through both front pockets, pulling out a wad of dollar bills. He sighs, shoves the pants back into the dryer, and starts it with a hard push.

“Gut feeling?” You ask. He looks around for a second and settles his gaze upon you. Nice eyebrows, you think.

“Yeah,” he laughs, slightly nervous. “Yeah. I wore them yesterday and just remembered I put some tip money in my pocket.” Leaning back onto the shelf behind him, he shoves his phone into his pocket and folds his arms tight to his chest.

“I feel you,” you empathize, and set down your pencil. “I washed a parking ticket with my underwear last week.”

He stutters out a laugh, nodding.

“That must’ve sucked,” he adds.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “I wasn’t going to pay it anyways, but would’ve been nice to keep it for memory’s sake.” Rubbing at your knee offhandedly, you just watch him. He’s cute. And easy to make conversation with.

“Hey, um,” he mutters and clears his throat. “Do you by chance know some guy named Karl? Tall, messy brown hair and a horrible laugh?”

You open your mouth, then close it.

“Actually—,” you start but huff out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s uh, he’s dating my roommate. Why’d you ask?”

Reaching a hand to rub at his neck, his face twists into something sheepish.

“I’ve seen you at some parties this semester. I didn’t mean to sound creepy like that— I just—yeah.” His cheeks flush pink and he looks down to the ground.

“No worries,” you say, barely even thinking. “I think I’ve seen you too. You’re in Delta Tau Delta, right?”

“Nah, nah,” he laughs. “Just got some friends in there.”

“Ah.” You nod.

The conversation falls into silence, but not uncomfortable silence. He pulls out his phone again, and you look back to the crossword in front of you. The old woman between you leaves with a humongous load of blankets and a small family leaves with a cart full of bags; now it’s just you two.

When the washer with your delicates ding you nearly jump two feet in the air. Exhaling, you set your work down and open the door.

“Shit,” you curse as two bras fall onto the tile. You reach down to get a hand on a black lace bra and hide it quickly under your elbow. A sneaker squeaks loud in the almost-empty room and you see Baseball Cap’s shoulders.

“Here.” He’s kneeling as he hands you your pink bra and you accept it, biting your lower lip.

“Thanks,” you mumbles, slightly embarrassed, and step back to shove those bras and a couple pairs of your underwear into your bag. He offers you a small smile and backs off to his own machines, humming an off-key version of Unchained Melody to himself. Your other load of laundry gets shoved right on top of your delicates.

It’s when you’re nearly out the door, bell jingling, that you think to look back.

“Hey,” you start, almost stuttering for no reason. “What’s your name?”

He turns, dark eyebrows raised.

“My—uh… My friends call me Sapnap. You can call me that too.” Rosy cheeks once again; you seem to be making him awfully nervous.

“Sapnap.” You try it in your mouth, pursing your lips. “Okay. I’ll see you around Sapnap.”

He nods, affirming your statement.

“See you around Y/N.”

It doesn’t hit you until you’re buckling your seatbelt and starting your car that you realize you didn’t tell him your name.

Perhaps he knew more about you than you thought.

Yeah, you laugh to yourself. Karl’s got a big mouth.

Junior Year:

It takes you a collective twelve minutes to go talk to him.

It’s quiet in the library, students that happen to come here to study or procrastinate few and far between the scattered tables. Your poison today is a 4 page history paper on Normandy that you’d been staring at the instructions for for days. You’d already written a bunch of, frankly, horseshit for the body, but the introduction and conclusion were throwing you for a loop.

The vibes in Ridgeback Hall were also certainly off, today more than any other day; the main help-desk was empty and everybody had to do the tedious task of locating niche textbooks themselves.

Lifting your head from the wood of the table, you squint and focus your vision on the guy in the white tee and denim jacket that had been the focus of your thoughts for minutes. He chews at the end of his pencil, mouth screwed up into a ball, and shoots daggers at the empty notebook in front of him. You’re surprised it hasn’t caught on fire yet just from his gaze.

“Sapnap!” You whisper-shout, stretching your arms across the table as if it would make him any closer. A person with purple hair jumps at your voice but turns back to their laptop. “Sapnap!” you try again, tapping two fingers on the table. His head jerks up, eyebrows furrowed and an angry expression on his face, but softens at the sight of you.

“Y/N,” he counters, equally as loud but with a smile on his face.

“What’re you doing?”

“Calculus.” He sticks his tongue out, making an awfully tortured face. You laugh and wave your fingers at him, gesturing for him to come closer. He just huffs out a sigh, stacks all his papers in one pile, and gets up. The trek over to your table is short but he takes it so slowly you wonder if he always walks like that. Like a varsity basketball player who just got off a horse.

“You’re so slow.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles and settles into a chair across from you. “It’s 2 pm, give me a break. I need a Redbull.”

“Those are bad for you, you know,” you say matter-of-factly and drop your chin onto your hand. He’s even cuter from this angle, you think briefly. He just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, Miss I’d-like-some-coffee-with-my-sugar-and-cream,” he teases, pointing to your venti iced coffee. It’s about as pale as the color of a band-aid. You just sigh and close your eyes. “You tired?” He flips his pencil in his hand and leans back into the seat, sighing.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I haven’t slept yet today.”

“Wow, you’re dumb.” He looks scandalized. You just shrug.

“Perhaps. I don’t really know why I did it actually— just for funzies!” You raise an arm but let it drop back down. “I stayed up playing Sims.”

“Feel that. I play Minecraft with my buddies until like 2 am every night too. It’s nice,” he decides and folds his arms across his chest. Your eyes flit over to his strong arms, admiring the way his denim shirt looks around them. Thick.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” He says too loudly and it warrants a ‘shush’ from another student. He reddens, but looks back down to you. “I—why do you ask?” You shrug, eyebrows raised.

“Just wondering. You’re too cute to not have one.”

“Right,” he huffs, but his cheeks stay pink. You two fall into easy silence, his eyes trained on the notebook in front of him and yours closed peacefully. “Are you dating anyone?”

They snap open not-so-peacefully.

“Nope. You wanna submit a boyfriend application?” A smile cracks your lips and he grins back.

“Maybe,” he replies and stares at your mouth. “I have to say—,” He stretches into a yawn. “I think I’m qualified.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow quirks. “And why are you so qualified?”

“Well, first of all, I work at Ace Hardware. That’s where cool people work.” He presses one finger into his palm. Then two. “And I have a bunch of free time because said job at Ace Hardware only likes scheduling me in the mornings. Plus, I’m hot.” He shrugs.

You nod faux-seriously, considering his list.

“Those are very good qualities, sir. I’ll have to get back to you on that.” You pause. “Okay, I’ll schedule an interview. How’s 7 pm at the Chili’s on Main? Chili’s is the designated interview place.” You wiggle your eyebrows. He just smiles at you, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was smooth.”

“Yeah, I know.” You carefully study your nails. “I’m pretty impressive.”

“Clearly,” he mutters and chuckles. “But I do like their salsa. And margaritas. We got a deal?” He holds out a large hand. You take it, squeezing tightly.

“Hell yes.”

When you see the man called Sapnap a week later, you are very obviously in a different state of mind.

Same state, same college town, but very different blood alcohol contents.

“Sappy!” You shout, raising your arms above your head with a stupid grin on your face. He turns, that familiar look of surprise evident in his expression.

“Y/N,” he laughs and approaches your group of friends in the kitchen. It’s Greek Wedding night at Delta Tau Delta, and you assume Sapnap came to support Delta’s “groom” Alex. You’d gotten uncharacteristically drunk, trading air for sangria, and you were now in the incredible stage where everyone was both your friend and your favorite person.

Throwing an arm around his shoulders, you mash your face into his bicep and giggle.

“Missed you so much,” you try to manage out of your mouth, but it comes out slurred and stuttered. “So much.” You’d gone to Chili’s two days before and promised another ‘interview’ in the next few days, but it felt like two months away from your beloved. Beloved friend, that is. Only one date.

“Yeah?” He places a hesitant hand on your back and nudges you into a standing position. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Oh, shhhh,” you mumble and close your eyes. “Only— a lot.” Blinking them back open, you zero your gaze in on a bottle of Ciroc half-empty and looking very tempting on the kitchen island across from where you’re leaned up against the kitchen sink. He catches your gaze and steps in front of you, pleasant face filling your vision. You gasp.

“You are so cute.” Sliding your palms up onto his face, you hold his scruffy cheeks in your hands and smile all dopey at him.

“Is that your brain or the alcohol telling you that?”

“Uh,” you swallow. “Both. And my heart.”

He just shakes his head and his chest moves with a heavy laugh.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Are you having fun?” You ask, all concerned and furrowed eyebrows. You look like you’re genuinely interested and worried about if he’s having a good time or not, and it makes his expression melt.

“I’m having lots of fun,” he passes over his shoulder as he flips on the tap and fills a red solo cup with water. “In fact, I’m gonna have a nice, cold glass of water right now.” He shakes it like an owner offering their dog a treat.

You eye the cup in his hand, having half a thought that this might be some sort of backwards psychology move. The other half wins.

“That sounds so good right now— can I drink some?” Your eyebrows pull together and your bottom lip drops into a pout. It makes him blink for a second. He remembers the little game you’re playing and just hands it over, smug. You gulp it down quickly and crush the empty plastic into your palm with an exaggerated exhale. “Hit the spot,” you sigh, and pat your stomach fondly.

“You hungry?” Sapnap asks you as he steadies you with two hands on your shoulders. Something pops into your head at his words: a set of two McChickens and an Oreo milkshake.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, and mirror him by placing your hands on his shoulders. “Can we go to McDonald’s?”

He just shakes his head, grin wide on his lips, and shrugs. Perfect teeth, you think.

“I haven’t drank anything, so I’m good to drive.” He pulls his keys from his pocket. “I know you’re smashed right now so—do you feel safe with me?” The question falls from his mouth and you truly consider it, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Yeah. I’ll take this just in case,” you say, and take a large dinner fork from the counter next to you. It has some red liquid on it that you brush off onto the fabric of your jeans.

“That’s actually gross.”

“Yeah.” You grip it tighter in your head. “But it’ll do the job if you try any shit. I’ll put this in your eyeball.” Brandishing it, a smile stretches onto your mouth. He just shakes his head and heads for the back door, jerking a hand in your direction to get you to follow him.

The cool night air explodes on your face when you step onto the porch and it makes you blink rapidly. Sapnap is right at your side, offering a forearm as you slowly make your way down the two back porch steps. A tall blonde smoking half of a blunt makes a grunt noise as you two pass and your knight-in-shining armor looks up.

“Gonna go get some food. Want anything?” Sapnap stops on the rocky path to the sidewalk, tilted up to hear the blonde’s response. The other guy shakes his head but nods to you in passing.

“I’ll tell her friends where she went,” says the blonde, and disappears through the sliding glass doors.

Your hand falls from his forearm to his hand and grasps it tightly, swinging back and forth as you stumble to his car. You flash him a grin that he just chuckles at.

“Watch your step,” he warns as you yank on the handle of the passenger door and nearly fall off of the curb.

“I’m fine,” you huff, and scramble to get yourself upright into the seat and buckled. He closes your door and jogs to the driver’s seat, climbing in and starting the engine quicker than your head comprehends.

The small space fills with the sound of Letters to Cleo as he’s maneuvering out of his parking spot and he slaps a hand at the stereo button almost immediately. His cheeks redden as he glances at you once.

“I love Letters to Cleo,” you admit, and switch it back on. Ah, Co-Pilot. A classic. “Be my co-pilot!” You sing, loud and sharp. He shakes his head but huffs out a reluctant laugh.

“My older sister loved them. Bit old for my taste, but—you know. Can’t deny that I love a little bit of 90’s angst.”

“Absolutely,” you nod vigorously and pick at your nail. “Oh!” The fork magically reappears at your side and you grab at it. “For my McChickens.”

“And for me,” he adds.

“Yup. You too.” But you drop it onto the seat and lean forward, fumbling with the volume dial until you feel the lead singer’s voice thumping into your heart. “I love this lady!” You shout and rock your head to the beat.

Shaking his head, his shoulders move in an easy laugh. The drive-thru line is kind of busy for 2 am, he notes, pulling in right behind a navy BMW sedan. But it moves quickly, especially when you’re moving in your seat, scream-singing the lyrics to I Want You To Want Me.

“Yeah,” he says, loud into the mic. “Two.”

“Alright.” The voice reports from the speaker, a background clicking joining their bored tone. “Two McChickens, a double cheeseburger—ketchup and pickle only— , a medium fry, and an Oreo McFlurry. Anything else, sir?”

Sapnap chews on his lip, and glances at you. You just give an encouraging thumbs up.

“That’ll be all,” he reports.

“Second window, and your total is $9.67.”

He barely has time to call a “thank you so much!” before the line ends with a click. Rude.

“Jesus Christ,” you moan the second you sink your teeth into your first sandwich.

“Agreed,” he mumbles and pushes as much cheeseburger he can fit into his mouth.

“This,” you start, swallowing. “is the sexiest thing I’ve encountered in all of my years. I thank all higher powers when I consume McChickens…” Trailing off for dramatic effect, you stare down the sandwich before mimicking a dinosaur war cry and practically shoving it down your throat. He just nods in agreement.

“It’s so nice out tonight,” Sapnap comments, swinging a look out his rolled-down window. He parked right in front of the Campus Quad, large bubbling fountain the show to your dinner. And some geese fighting each other for half a rotting hot dog.

“Mhm.” You crumple up your wrapper trash and toss it into the empty paper bag. “Could totally go for a swim.”

He turns and gives you a look. You look right back.

“Should we?” It’s barely a question.

“Um, hell yes,” is all it takes for you to say before you’re clambering out of the car and starting for the fountain. He follows closely after, jogging to catch up with your borderline track-star sprints.

“Wait up!” He calls as you reach the border of the fountain.

“Ugh,” you sigh, impatient. “Hurry up.”

“Mouthy,” he grumbles before kicking off his shoes and bending to fold his pants up over his knees. You just climb straight in and brave the cold.

Squealing, you hop from one foot to the other, shoulders tight as you get used to the freezing water. He laughs and climbs in right beside you.

“Shit,” he curses, and shivers. “This sucks.”

“You suck,” you quip right back and splash around. He stares, disgusted, at the water soaking up your jeans all the way up to your knees.

“You’re gross for wearing jeans in a fountain. That’s worse than wet socks.” He starts to move around as feeling comes back into his toes.

“What, would you prefer me taking my pants off?” A sassy look paints your face and he rolls his eyes.

“No, but you could’ve folded them up like a normal person.”

“I think you forget,” you start, and splash a palmful of water his way. “I’m quirky.”

He gasps, face twisting as the water hits his thighs.

“You’re dead.”

If campus police were patrolling the Quad right now, they’d see two college juniors wading around in a fountain, water up to their knees, having a competition to see who can inflict the most damage. He won, it seems, because your shirt is drenched all the way up to your ribs.

“Okay!” You shout, hands spread to brace yourself. The water in his palm falls. “I’m cold and I want my other McChicken.”

“Fine,” he sighs, and with some difficulty manages to get out of the fountain and back into his shoes. You just make your way back over to his car barefoot, braving the mulch and poorly-sanded concrete.

You both finish your food quickly, discussing menial things like how fast food restaurants always skimp on the pickles and how it’s truly a disservice to the world that so many people don’t know it’s Biggie singing the song Kat dances on the table to in the 1999 classic 10 Things I Hate About You.

When Sapnap pulls up to your house, he shifts the car into park and lets loose a heavy sigh. You whip around, hand on your buckle, and sport a very confused look on your face.

“I’m tired,” is all he says. Head falling onto the seat, he rolls over to give you a half-lidded look. You nod empathetically and climb very carefully out of his passenger seat. Your drunk muscles haven't caught up to your mainly sober brain, which is impairing your ability to look like a functioning human being.

“Thank you for tonight,” you chirp, smiling in at him with your arms folded on the open window sill. The half-drank Oreo McFlurry is lukewarm in your hand. He stares at your flushed lips.

“Anytime you want a drunk McChicken let me know.” He winks. “I have a gift card.”

“You spoil me,” you coo, and step up onto the sidewalk. “I’ll see you sometime soon, yeah?”

He nods, pursed lips fighting a grin.

Cute, you both think at the same time.

Sometime soon, somehow, means the very next day.

It’s breezy yet uncharacteristically hot out, and certainly way too bright for a hungover Y/N.

You’re sat on the porch swing, nursing a hot decaf coffee with lots of sugar and cream. Sunglasses sit comfortably on your nose, but you still have to squint. The pills you took have yet to kick in, so all you have to do is wait and try not to vomit into your mug. Suddenly, your phone lights up and buzzes to life. You press the green button and lift to your ear.

“What do you want?” Your voice is awfully froggy, you realize, and clear your throat.

“Good morning to you too.” Sapnap’s voice rings clear yet husky into your ear. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile. God, you’re whipped just for the sound of his voice.

“It is definitely not a good morning,” you grumble and switch him into speaker phone. You drop the phone into your lap and stretch out further on the swing.

“Good morning for me,” he chirps cheerfully. “Take anything for the headache?”

“Yes,” you report, sounding like a pouting child and rubbing two fingers into your temple. “Some idiot fed me ice cream last night so this morning I woke up having to both shit and throw up.”

“Aww,” he sympathizes, sounding way too entertained. “That sounds like a you problem.” You stuck out your tongue, but upon realizing he can’t see it, make a ‘hmph’ noise into the mic. “Anyways. I called to see if you wanted to go get breakfast with me. Waffle House, specifically.” You make a face but lift yourself up off the swing, wincing.

“I saw a rat eat an entire piece of french toast there once. But—sure. I’ll pay.” He starts to whine, but you scoff. “Let me love you, bitch. You pay for my McDonald’s and I pay for your pancakes. Easy trade.”

“Whatever. See you in five.” He hangs up right as you twist the front door open and drop your phone onto the couch.

“Who’re you talking to?” comes from the kitchen and you jump, pressing a hand to your chest. A shirtless Karl enters the living room with a bowl of fruit loops in his hand.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, and duck into the hall closet for your pair of dirty tennis shoes. “I was talking to Sapnap.”

“Oh,” he says around his mouthful of cereal with a grin. “You guys dating yet?”

You pass him a weird look, bending to tie your shoes.

“Gimme like two weeks. I’ll have him at my beck and call,” you laugh and collapse back into the couch.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He quirks an eyebrow and exits stage left into your roommate’s room.

The few minutes it takes for Sapnap to come to your house are short but filled with contemplation. Do you really want to date him? He’s certainly cute enough. Nice enough. And smart enough. He seems to like you too—

A honk interrupts your thoughts. Always having to be obnoxious, huh?

“You’re annoying,” you mumble as you buckle your seatbelt. He just shrugs, tiny smile tugging his lips, and shifts into drive. The short trip to Waffle House proves more quiet than lively. He seems awake, actually, so you attribute the silence to your tumultuous thoughts. The music is nice, though. Bikini Kill is perfect for 10 am.

After you two order (three chocolate chip pancakes for him and two regular waffles with a side of hashbrowns for you), he finally breaks the silence.

“Hey, are we dating?”

You pause with your lip on the rim of your orange juice. Your gaze falls from his lips to his fingers wrapped around the coffee mug. Two silver rings adorn both his middle fingers and they glint underneath the fluorescent lights.

“Do you wanna?” You squint back up at him. The tips of his ears flush pink.

“I-uh… Yeah. Yes,” he says simply. You try to hide a smile, but realize there’s no point.

“Okay.” You take a long drink of your orange juice. “I really like you. A lot. A surprising amount, actually; I haven’t really dated seriously since highschool.”

He nods, shuffling his feet on the tile. What else does he have to be nervous about? you wonder.

“I’ve… kindasortamaybelikedyousincesophmoreyear,” he mumbles and you swallow.

“Huh?” Leaning forward, you set your glass down.

“Um,” he starts but doesn’t finish.

“Did you say you’ve liked me since sophomore year?”

“...Maybe.” His coffee becomes the most interesting thing in the world, apparently. “Do you remember that one time during the Summer Carnival where Karl lost his phone?”

“Uh—yes! Yeah, actually. I do remember that. He found it in the porta-potty. What about it?” The waitress sets down both your plates in front of you and you offer her a smile in thanks before she trundles off to the drink station. You pick up your fork and wait for him to continue.

“I left two hours early because you invited Michael from your computer science class.” You pause around your mouthful of potato and he just stares back, trying not to grin. “Yeah. I thought you were hot and left early because you brought another guy.”

“Michael is gay,” you say slowly.

“Yup.” He nods and shoves a forkful of pancake into his mouth. “Isn’t that so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you tease but your cheeks blush pink.

“Anyways. Now I’m dating you, so. Win for me.”

“Ditto,” you murmur, and manage to fit half of your first waffle into your mouth. “This is the easiest it’s ever been to start dating someone.”

“It’s ‘cause we’re cool, I’m pretty sure,” comes from a mouthful of pancake.

“That’s facts.”

The rest of Pancake House is bustling, a few families with young kids and some other hungover college students scarfing down similar breakfast foods and confections. You two barely give any other customers the time of day, too wrapped up in conversation and each other. The waitress gets a heavy tip after an hour and a half of struggling to swallow dough soaked in syrup and chocolate.

Sapnap walks you to your door after breakfast, hand on your waist and pressed to your side. It feels good. Right.

“I’ll see you Wednesday right?” You ask, turning to him with hopeful eyes. How could he resist?

“Definitely. Wouldn’t miss Game Night for the world— I can’t wait to beat your ass at Uno.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You murmur but you’re already slinging an arm around his shoulder and bringing his mouth down to yours.

You taste like sugar, he thinks. His hands find the small of your back easily, pressing you further forward into him. You hum at that, tracking a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair to grip it between your fingers.

He smells both musky and sweet and cool at the same time: heaven. One of his hands slides up to grip at your neck, thumb rubbing at your jaw, and you make a pleased noise into his mouth. There it is.

“Y/N!” Shrieks from inside your house and you jump, pulling away from Sapnap with a smack.

“What?” You yell back, irritated, and he just laughs as he dips to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Stop tonguing your boyfriend and come help me with my photography project.”

“God damn it,” you sigh and drop your hands. His slide down to just rest on your hips, comfortable. “I have to go.” You're annoyed, that’s for sure, and he prays you aren’t too mean to your roommate.

“Alright.” He dips for a quick kiss one last time. Okay, two more times. Maybe three. But he pulls away, grinning. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

And then he’s stepping off your porch, walking to his car with his hands in his pockets. You watch his back fondly.

God, boyfriend. He’s your boyfriend. Boynap. Sapfriend. You can’t decide on a name, but all sounds perfect.

Perfectly him.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D comments = welcome!

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

There's a team of heroes vs one villain in the town and one of the heroes gives the others away when they all decide cover up something awful. Villain applauds the hero for coming forward, showering them in praise and affection, but Hero is apprehensive about everything because under the masks they still were friends with the other heroes- and they betrayed them. With no friends and no job, however, they keep coming to Villain for their needs.

Request #16

Warning: torture, descriptions of harm & wounds.

Here you go! 💖💖

~~~~

Hero couldn't believe what lay before their eyes. While they were out on patrol, their teammates had called them, telling them to get back to base immediately. Apparently, they had caught one of Villain's henchmen and were in the middle of interrogating them.

This, however, was not how Hero imagined their 'interrogation' would look like. Henchman's bruised and bloodied body was lying on the cold stone floor, shaking, their breathing dangerously heavy. "W-What happened?!"

"Oh, yeah, they didn't wanna talk, so we had to uh... get a little rough, ya know?" - Second Hero answered, calm and unbothered, Third Hero and Fourth Hero equally unconcerned.

"Anyway, where were we?" - Third Hero asked no one in particular as they moved closer to the fallen henchman. Calling forth their power, they continued, "This bitch still hasn't said a word."

Henchman tensed up, preparing for more pain, before Hero suddenly interrupted, "Hold on, uh- How about you let me take a crack at 'em, ay? And you guys go take a break; it looks like we're gonna be at it for a while."

The third hero considered their suggestion for a moment, not noticing the bead of sweat going down Hero's forehead, and then responded with a grin, "Aight, leave some for us to play with later, though."

The three blood-covered heroes exited the room chuckling, leaving Hero and Henchman alone. As the hero neared the beaten-up crook they tensed up, jaw locking tight.

They did flinch, however, as Hero's hand gently landed on their shoulder. The henchman dared a glance at them, and their confusion only grew as they saw the worry on the other's face. "Are- Are you alright?"

"..."

"Right, okay- you don't want to talk- uh... here." - Hero continued the one-sided conversation, carefully lifting Henchman into a bridal carry. The criminal tried to fight against them but only hissed as pain shot through their entire body. They rested their head against the hero's shoulder with a groan, letting them do as they pleased.

Hero called upon their power, their eyes glowing in the dimly lit room. Henchman was ready for pain, but to their surprise, the hero did not use their power to hurt them. Honestly, they weren't even sure what their power was, as they've never seen them use it.

The faint sound of pitter-patter caught their attention. The room's door opened, and through it came a... spider-shaped machine...? It was quite odd-looking, a short cylinder with some pointy legs attached to it, alongside what was probably cameras going all around its side, giving it three-sixty vision. The contraption was big, too, and apparently sturdy enough for the hero to stand atop it with the henchman still in their arms.

"W-Wha...?" - Henchman tried, but the Hero quickly cut them off, "I can control machines with my mind."

With a surge of power from the hero, the odd metallic spider moved again, taking them out of the interrogation room. It skittered along the ground before suddenly climbing onto the wall. Henchman yelped as they expected gravity to drag them to the floor but were surprised yet again as both humans and the robot moved horizontally to the ground without issue.

The henchman didn't even bother asking as they moved along the ceiling, traveling upside down; they just assumed it had something to do with magnets. They were very high up. The heroes' base had some awfully tall ceilings, but they supposed it was convenient in this scenario, as the two wouldn't easily be spotted. Upon looking up- or down? Whatever it was, they noticed they were currently in a lounge room, the other three heroes chatting amongst themself below them.

Both Henchman and Hero kept their mouths shut tight as they passed over the team and slithered into another room. Once the human chatter faded from their ears, they both let out a breath, the hero's machine speeding up, crawling to a nearby window.

As the cool outside air hit their face, the henchman let themself relax a bit in the other's hold, still confused but now more convinced that they were being helped. The sun had nearly set, and nighttime's darkness was slowly enveloping the city.

As the moon began rising into the sky, Hero and Henchman moved across rooftops and between alleyways, headed straight for Villain's lair.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"You know, I probably should've asked earlier..." - Henchman began. The two were standing atop a building, looking down at the villain's lair. " But why are you... helping me?"

"..." - Hero was silent at first, a pained frown taking over their face as they thought about their teammates, their friends. They never expected the three would do something like this...

"I... I couldn't just let them hurt you like that. It- It wasn't right..."

Without another word from either of them, they descended down the side of the building and moved closer to the guards stationed outside. Before entering the henchmen's line of sight, Hero moved off their machine, hiding it nearby, and walked closer.

They immediately became surrounded, power-enhanced guns pointed right at the hero. They stood still as a rifle was pressed against the back of their head, and Henchman was carefully taken from them. Their arms were then forced behind their back and put into power-suppressing cuffs.

As the henchmen dragged them along, they could only ponder whether this was a good idea or not. Hero should've thought this through a little bit better, shouldn't they have? It was a very rash decision on their part, but they couldn't just stand by and let the poor henchman get tortured!

They- They were a hero. Their teammates too! All four of them were, or rather, they were supposed to be. And heroes- Heroes weren't supposed to hurt people...

Lost amidst their thoughts, Hero failed to realize that they were already standing before the villain's office. The doors swung open, and they were thrown inside, falling to their knees. Villain looked unsurprised; their henchmen had no doubt informed them of the intruder as soon as they had appeared.

The doors closed and locked, and Hero was now alone with the enemy. The villain was staring down at them, arms crossed and a calculating look in their eyes as if they were trying to figure something out.

Villain was the first to break the silence, "You brought Henchman back."

"So I did."

"...Why?"

Hero went to answer, but a frown returned to their face, the memory of seeing their friends being so casual about hurting someone... It... It just...

"It wasn't right..." - they muttered, the villain barely understanding their words. "They were hurting them... Torturing them..."

"And even though they're your teammates, you still went against them and saved one of my henchmen." - Villain said, a grin taking over their face as they knelt down to the other's level. The hero grew confused as the villain took hold of their chin, locking their eyes.

"I must say, Hero. This was very unexpected but brave of you."

"H-Huh?"

"So, what are you going to do now? Do you have any... evidence of what your little friends did?" - Villain continued as they undid their restraints, letting them stand.

Hero's eyes widened both at the villain's actions and as they realized that they did, in fact, have something, "The security footage..."

"Well, there ya go!" - the villain exclaimed, giving them an oddly reassuring pat on the shoulder. Why were they suddenly being so friendly to the hero? Not to mention they just... uncuffed them like it was nothing!

"Hey, uh... Villain?" - Hero started, uncertainty clear in their voice. They watched as the criminal moved to their desk and sat down. They trailed after them and continued, "I don't mean to be rude or anything, but um... why the sudden... friendliness?"

"You saved one of mine and returned them to me. Is it bad that I'm grateful?" - Villain responded, tilting their head to the side and observing the hero curiously. Hero seemed a bit shocked, if not flustered at their reply.

"Ah, well, no- it's not a bad thing! I just- uh-" - Hero attempted a reply, but the villain's chuckle ended their ramble. They stood there unsure of how to proceed and just let the other talk.

"Why don't I repay you, hmm?" - Villain asked with a smirk and a look that made Hero's face hot.

"Uh- Repay me h-how?"

"I'll help you bring your friend's misdeed to light." - they answered, adoring the slight embarrassment the hero couldn't hide. They obviously knew where Hero thought that was going to go; they made them think that on purpose. Villain just couldn't help themself; the hero was always so adorable when they tried to avoid their gaze in that shy manner of theirs.

"O-Oh, right."

Giving Hero an amused look, the villain stood and went for the door, motioning for them to follow. Together, they went to expose the hero's teammates.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A few weeks had gone by, and the footage of Hero's teammates torturing Henchman had gone viral online. Millions of people had seen it already and were raising hell, demanding answers from Organization.

The hero had also stepped forward and spoke about it. They thought that this was the right thing to do. They thought that the higher-ups would be pleased with them for bringing such a crime to light. But instead of praise, Hero was met with hostility and threats. They had no choice but to leave behind their heroic work and go into hiding.

As the days went by, they became more and more paranoid, terrified that the organization would find and catch them. Luck, however, seemed to be on their side. A little while after they had gone off the radar, the villain had found them and offered them their help.

Hero was very apprehensive about taking up their offer but nonetheless found themself regularly coming back to Villain's lair. With no job and no friends of any kind, the villain was now, ironically, their only ally.

You'd think that Hero could just find a new job, right? Something normal for a change, but no. That was unfortunately not an option; not only did their teammates know what their face looked like, but so did the rest of the world now. Organization had exposed their face to the globe, and now there was no going back.

They pondered over all of this, questioning what to do. At first, Hero had been living off of whatever scraps they could find, only occasionally coming to Villain for help. But now? They were practically living in their lair, and they hated it. It made them feel like a leech.

Another thing that bothered the hero greatly was that not only did the villain supply them with food and shelter, but they also, at some point, started to take care of their more... emotional needs. Reassuring them, praising them, holding them, it- it was confusing but... welcome...

And it was actually happening right now. The two were currently in Villain's courters, lying on their bed. The villain was on their back, with the hero on top of them, their bodies facing each other. Hero's face burned hotter than the sun as they cuddled, the other's arms wrapped around them, one hand petting their head. How they got into this situation, Hero did not know.

"You know my other offer still stands, right?" - Villain asked softly, breaking them out of their thoughts. The hero snuggled their face deeper into their chest, too embarrassed to look at them before muttering, "I know..."

"Then why not take it? I'd love it if you joined me." - the villain whispered in their ear, making them shiver a bit. Hero had to admit, they have considered the offer quite a few times now. They just... weren't sure if they'd be...

"Would I even be good enough for this...?" - the hero questioned, slightly tilting their head so that they could glance at the other. Villain's hand moved from their head to their chin, lifting it and locking their eyes.

"Oh, of course, you'd be good enough! You'd be even better than that!" - the villain reassured, a gentle look overtaking their features.

"R-Really?" - the hero was still unsure, but they couldn't help but relax under the criminal's gaze and touch.

"Yes, really. After all, you saved my henchman so exceptionally! Sneaking around those heroes and through the city like it was nothing!" - Villain praised, and Hero found themself slowly believing them.

They lay there silently for a moment, Hero battling internally before finally deciding, "A-Alright, I... I'll join you!"

"Marvelous~." - the villain purred, and a new chapter began for both of them.

[shackermanwrites]

Lifetime

Summary: When everything's falling apart in your life, and you don't know what to do anymore, maybe asking the universe for something isn't a bad idea after all. In which Sol Reader finds herself in another reality after begging the universe for something. Everything is going well not until she was put into Levi's squad.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Warnings & Content: Angst, Slow Burn, Alternate Universe, War, Politics, Sad, Fluff and Smut, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Reality Shifting.

A/N:  This is a y/n story, but I will still put a name since I am more comfortable with that. Also, for those who don't know what reality shifting is, it is basically moving your subconscious to another reality, and that's where I got the inspiration to write this. There are also no titans in the story except for the 9 titan shifters. The story will revolve around the war between Paradis and Marley.

Lifetime Masterlist

Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2

The sound of chirping birds and a peal of faint laughter from the other room are the first thing you had noticed as soon as you woke up from sleeping. You can’t recognize whether it's already morning or noon because of the sunlight beaming through the grass yet being danced by the wind.

You were taken aback by the beautiful scenery in front of you as you sat on the bed and stared at the large window beside your bed, yet soon realized that you don’t know where you are.

You started to look around to observe your surroundings; there are two teacups and a small saucer that contains crumbs of bread sitting on top of the bed stand beside your bed, which explains the faint smell of tea and woods that smells refreshing to your nose.

The room is quite spacious and clean considering seeing a bunch of toys scattered on the floor; who lives here, you thought to yourself. You slowly got up from the bed despite feeling nervous, you can’t recall this room, but you feel like this is not the first time that you have seen this room, let alone the feeling of being inside that house is somewhat familiar to you.

You carefully tiptoed as you went out; you don’t know what is happening, nor where you are right now, yet you did not find yourself panicking.

“Careful with that and don’t make a mess, okay?”

You followed the voice that seems to be coming from the kitchen, the voice was followed by a giggle that appears to be from a child. As soon as you reached the end of the hall, you slowly peek to see that your guts were right, the voices you heard were from the kitchen.

A table with four chairs and a child sitting on one of it back facing you is the only thing you manage to see so you decided to peek even more and there your eye saw a black-haired man that seems to be cooking as he slowly stirs the pot in front of him, you assume that he did not notice your presence.

Yet the child did; the moment you turn your gaze back to the child’s back, she was already looking at you with a slight smile painted on her face and a lovingly look that she had given you.

“How was your nap? You fell asleep while reading earlier in the living room, you must have liked the tea I made earlier” You looked at the man that has stopped chopping potatoes to look at you.

You locked eyes with him and you noticed the similar eye color of the child, you suddenly felt the urge to run into his arms and cry. You wanted to feel his embrace. You felt home as soon as you saw him, almost like you completely forgotten that you don��t know where you are, but somehow you felt safe, especially around him.

“yeah, my sleep was okay” you gave him a soft smile to lighten up the mood

As you were about to walk over to him, your vision is suddenly getting blurry, and everything was spinning, and your vision goes black.

-

“Hey, wake up, Sol” you felt a hand on your shoulder trying to shake you from your deep slumber.

You slowly open your eyes and crap was the only word you could think of when you realized that you fell asleep in class, not just any class but one of your major subjects this semester.

You look around and see your professor shuffling a bunch of cards that have your class names on it, ah random recitation again if your hunch is correct which made you groan in annoyance.

You aren’t the type of student to burn yourself out just to ace your subjects, but you are managing to pass them, and luckily for you, your grades are much higher than what you are expecting, although you are still not sure if it just because you’re still in your second year in college.

Initially, you were supposed to take up a course related to arts because ever since you find art, specifically drawing and painting, it is your safe place. You love to draw and paint ever since you were a child. Still, you had to bury those and convince yourself that doing all of that was just a hobby, so instead, you took a course related to medicine.

Going back to your senses, you immediately smiled at your friend beside you, that’s now scanning through her notes. You’ve been friends with Petra since the first day of freshman year since the two of you met in an embarrassing way. Both of you were wearing the same necklace that day, so people assumed that the two of you were dating. After that incident, she always sat next to you in class and eventually became friends with her up until now.

“so, since none of you failed the exams, the project that is due after Christmas break will be moved at the end of the semester” the room was quickly filled with cheers and chatters after hearing the announcement of your professor.

“so? You have plans this Christmas break?” you looked at Petra while she stuffs her notebooks inside her bag with a smile on her face, you can’t deny the fact that she is indeed beautiful.

“Yeah, I might go back to Germany tomorrow morning since Christmas is in five days, so” you scratch the project on your to-do list in front of your bag before putting it inside your bag.

Petra gave you a brief look before smiling at you for a second “yeah, I think you should, it’s been two years since you were home, right? Hey besides, I’m right around the corner here, so if you decided to come back early, let me know.”

“Yeah, I will, anyway. Aren’t you late for your job?”

“oh, dang it, I am, I got to go first, sol. My manager will kill me.”

You can’t help but giggle at her reaction when she realized that she’s late. “sure, take care and call me tomorrow.”

You could only watch as she leaves the room in a rush. You let out a sigh and grab your bag to leave the room. Your parents are the reason why you choose to pursue medicine instead of arts, the moment they knew what you want to do for the rest of your life. You immediately saw how disappointed they are, so instead, you took a course you think they can be proud of.

Medicine isn’t that bad, especially being trained and learning how to be a medical technologist, It's fun to learn, and you are adapting and finding yourself enjoying as you engage more and more. Yet, deep inside of you knows that you’re just pushing your doubts and negative thoughts aside, and that includes your passion.

The dorm isn’t that far from your university; it will only take a maximum of 4 minutes when walking. You removed your coat and shoes and decided to slump down on your bed. You don’t have the energy to take a shower considering that you just did two hours ago; you’re still okay, you thought.

You honestly can’t stop thinking about what Petra said earlier, home. It must be nice to feel that you're home.

Your parents are acceptable it is just that they don’t care about what you feel and think, maybe its because you’re their first child and they are still learning when they had you, but the way they treat your little sister says otherwise. Although, you love your sister you can’t deny the fact that you sometimes feel jealous, you just want to be a daughter and a person to your parents, you mentally slap yourself.

It would be best if you weren’t thinking like that.

You let out a loud groan while staring at the ceiling.

“I should probably pack my bag now if I’m leaving early,” you mumbled to yourself.

You quickly got up from the bed and grabbed your suitcase under your bed, and you don’t know how long you will stay but just in case.

You filled it up with your clothes and toiletries neatly. You can be organized if you’re in the mood, and that is something Petra can’t do; the girl is just messy and unorganized, which is why you’re glad that you’re there for her.

“that should do it, I did a great job.”

Once again, you slump down on the bed, face buried on the pillow, you’re tired physically and mentally drained, once again you thought about home, this is why you don’t like it when you’re doing nothing, it leads you to overthink.

You closed your eyes and thought about the things you want in life, which slowly leads to imagining them and making up scenarios as if that is already happening. “I just want to go home, home is where I want, this is bullshit but universe please I just want to be home, no matter what the cost is, no matter what the cost” you beg in your head, you grew up not being heard but deep inside of you clings on a hope that the universe might listen to you.

You stayed like this for almost half an hour; even though you are flinching, you didn’t move an inch. You had to convince yourself that you're probably just tired. Your eyes are getting heavier every minute, and you were about to fall asleep when you noticed that something’s not right, you felt dizzy and cold, yet you decided to push those thoughts and drifted to sleep.

Little did you know, the universe is always listening.

[thatringboy]

Me to me: Nooo don’t make an Inazuman oc you already have two OCs from Liyue and Natlan who you said you’d revamp and besides, you’re probably going to lose interest in this one soon Also Me, getting way to invested in Inazuma lore: HEY EVERYONE COME MEET MY NEW OC HIIRAGI YORICHI, A HYDRO SWORD USER WHO’S AUTISTIC LIKE ME

Link to picrew used for profile

Buried Beauty

“My duty is first to the people of my homeland, then the Kanjou Commission. Make no mistake, Baal must be stopped, but not at the expense of the people.”

The firstborn son of the Hiiragi Clan who’s name means “first gift”. He grew up in Sumeru Academy, but has returned to Ritou to take up his father’s yoke over the Kanjou Commission

General Information

Name: Hiiragi Yorichi

Age: 28

Affiliation: Hiiragi Clan

Birthdate: January 17

Starsign: Capricorn

Constellation: Thesauros Sepultus

Weapon: Sword

Vision: Hydro

Voice Claims

CVA: Zhang Jie

JVA: Tasuku Hatanaka

EVA: Kyle Phillips

Voice Lines

Good Morning: Hmm? Oh, yes, greetings Traveler and Paimon. Sorry, I didn’t see you there… I’m not much of a morning person

Good Afternoon: Did I miss lunch again? Eh, oh well. Traveler, wanna run by Miss Ryouko’s to get some food?

Good Evening: If I don’t get back soon, Chisato will certainly send someone out to find me

Good Night: Can you get back on your own? I’m afraid that I must return to Ritou for the evening

When It Rains: Quickly! The rain will cover our tracks!

When It Snows: Huh? Wow it got cold fast! Better go find some shelter before I accidentally freeze us

When It’s Sunny: Be careful, our enemies can see clearly in broad daylight

Favorite Food: Mmm, I could go for some Mondstat Grilled Fish right about now… I had it once during their Ludi Harpastum Festival that my Senpai took me to one year and I’ve just fallen in love with the flavour!

Least Favorite Food: Is… is that cabbage? No no, there’s nothing wrong, just don’t expect me to eat any. Why? Well… I don’t like the texture at all! Eating it feels like slime going down my throat which closes up my airways and then that sensation makes my brain feel like someone shoved a wet blanket between my ears and wrapped it around my brain! Please… never make me eat cabbage…

About: Vision: My Vision? How did I get mine? Well, since you asked so nicely, it appeared to me in a dream during the end of the first year of the Sakoku Decree. I had cried myself to sleep because of the anguish I felt coming from those who had their Visions stolen - those who I had sworn to protect as a Clan Heir - and I cursed out Celestia for allowing this to happen. In my dream, I appeared before seven giant thrones all glowing with elemental magic. In the blue throne sat a woman who gave off so much power that I could not gaze upon her. Yet, her words always resonate in my heart: “Your loyalties may change, but never change your principles. Do no harm to others, but do not let harm fall upon you and those you love.” When I woke up, the Vision was tucked under my pillow!

About: Kanjou Commission: One day, it will be my duty to oversee the Kanjou Commission. Am I ready? Probably not. Do I have a choice? Also no. I just want to make everyone proud… but how can I do that when father has already deemed me an embarrassment to the Hiiragi Clan simply because of who I am?

About: Sumeru Academy: The Academy? I grew up there! Fourteen years I spent roaming the halls absorbing all of the knowledge I could! *Sigh*… maybe if the Travel Ban gets lifted, I’ll show you around my old stomping grounds!

About: Ritou: I’m friends with some of the guys at the Outlander’s Trade Association. What do you wish to see? Want to head by a jewelry shop? Get some food?

About: Interests: Wanna know a secret? Deep down, I’m an alchemist at heart! Anything alchemy related, I’m sure I can be of use! It’s my special interest! Did you know that the luminescent spines of a firefly can—wait wait no I’m sorry. Father says that people get bored of my ramblings, my apologies for wasting your time…

About: Swords: You may have noticed that my sword technique is different from the samurai of Inazuma. That is because I learned how to use my blade at the Academy. I forged this blade myself when I turned twenty. Would you like to hold it?

About Ayaka: Miss Kamisato? I’ve met her once and she seems nice, but I still feel uneasy around her. But maybe that’s just me

About Raiden Shogun: You want to know why I refer to the Shogun as “Baal”? Well, that’s because I didn’t grow up in a place that calls her the “Raiden Shogun”. I’m used to my peers referring to her as “Baal” and I’ve yet to drop the habit. Also, I don’t have much respect for her, but don’t tell anyone that

About Ayato: Never met him, but his description gives me the creeps! Never appears in public, leaving his little sister to do all the work? The nerve of that guy! O-oh… that sounds like me? Ehe-he… oops

About Yoimiya: Oh Miss Naganohara! She makes the best fireworks! She and I are actually a lot alike. What, you don’t see it? I guess that comes from me spending a lifetime hiding my inner enthusiasm while she never quite grew up. We should go to the next firework festival to see her, I’m sure she’d love that! But… from a distance please. The popping noises from the fireworks hurt my ears

About Kaeya: The Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, huh? I’m curious to see how the pieces fall into place… what was that? Oh, it’s nothing… just gossip from some old colleagues

About Diluc: Diluc? Who’s that? Owner of the Dawn Winery? The Ragnvindr Clan? Nope, doesn’t ring a bell. The Darknight Hero? Of course! Why didn’t you just say that?! Yeah I know who you’re talking about now! What? He’s got a Vision too? I guess that guy’s just full of surprises

About Childe: So, that weasel is actually a Fatui Harbinger? Why am I not surprised... O-oh when did I meet him? After I graduated from the Academy. Did I sound too surprised about his identity? Sorry, when I knew him, he used a different name

About Albedo: Ah… the son of Rhinedottir. His master actually attended one of my lectures when I was younger in secret. I think they were using an alias during that time but I spoke to them in private. It was interesting to learn different things about ancient alchemy techniques from another land. I think Albedo is currently an alchemist in Mondstat, right? I’ll visit him when the Travel Ban is lifted to exchange notes

About Klee: Klee, daughter of Alice? Eh, I haven’t heard good things. I’m not a big fan of explosions... but that doesn’t mean that she’s a bad kid! I’m sure if I met her, we’d be friends

About Lisa: Minci-Senpai! We worked together a lot at the Acadmia! Why did I call her senpai when I’m older than her? Well, because she’s the Grandmage!!! Everyone knows how smart and powerful Minci-Senpai is! Once, she tasked me with finding ways to preserve pure Electro organisms. So, I coated the inside of a jar with Hydro Slime condensate so that her Electro roses can continuously be charged by the Hydro energy… Sorry, I’m getting carried away

About Mona: What, do you think that all Hydro users who practice magic know each other? Well, I do know Miss Megistus, but you can’t assume that! I met her and her master once during a lecture on fortune telling with the use of elemental abilities. Now that I have a Vision of my own, I will see if I can implement their techniques into my own practice

About Sara: To be perfectly honest, I’ve never met her. We may be the heirs to our Clans and our respective Commissions, but I’ve never had a conversation with her. Naturally, as a Vision holder and she as the spearhead of the Tenryou Commission, I am her enemy. However, as the heir to the Hiiragi Clan, I must keep up formalities. Besides, my dear sister Chisato is being courted by another member of the Kujou clan, Kujou Kamaji, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin that. You won’t turn me and my Vision in to her, right?

About Cyno: Ah, Master Cyno, one of the smartest members of the Academy. I owe a lot of my development to him. I don’t think I would have finished my Thesis paper on the eighth nation without his guidance

About: Names: You know, my name means “first treasure”, but despite such an endearing name, my father has yet to reveal my face to the public and claim me as his heir. He was also the one to send me away when I was a boy to Sumeru because I was not like other children. Was I meant to be gift to my family? To the other nations? Was I an unwanted gift? … Oh, sorry about that. I don’t usually get dark like that! Tell me, Traveller, what does your name mean?

About: Politics: Ugh… Sakoku Decree this, honor the Commissions that, I don’t understand any of it. If I’m ever left in charge, I’m sure that I could handle the bureaucratic side, but the people side? I get overwhelmed when talking to people I’m not comfortable with. I shut down mentally, fumble over my words and eventually I end up having a panic attack and Chisato has to pull me from the room. My father thought that I would have grown out of those outbursts when I got older, but I’ve only found a way to mask my behaviors. But you’re different, you haven’t looked at me like a child nor spoken less of me simply because I’m different, why is that?

About: Family: My mother passed away while I was gone, my father Shinsuke is the head of the Kanjou Commission and my younger sister Chisato is his main assistant. When my father gets upset, Chisato is always the one who has my back and in turn, I’ve begun escorting her secretly to Kondo Village to meet with her secret lover, Kujou Kamaji. I guess that’s what siblings do for each other, we protect each other from everything because no matter what we go through, no matter what arguments we have, we always will have each other. Ah, Traveler! I didn’t say anything to make you upset, did I?

About: Khaenri’ah: … You ask a lot of questions, don’t you? What do you think I know about that cursed place? Yeah, I wrote my Thesis paper on Khaenri’ah, but that was a while ago and I’ve learned my lesson. Now, the only connections I have to that place are hearsay from lecturers, rumors at the Academy and the plucked plume of a proud peacock.

About: Time Gap: Huh? Oh yeah, I went to Sumeru when I was seven and studied there for fourteen years. Uh… what did I do for the missing five years of my life before returning to Ritou? Ehe-he… I don’t think I’m allowed to say everything, but I can tell you this: that’s the time that I met a disgraced Knight, a bloodthirsty child and learned how to wield a sword. I was able to travel with them while writing my Thesis paper. Ah… how time flies when working with like minded people

This is the most thought I’ve ever put into an OC, I hope you like him!

[yeojaa]

“i love you.”  read:  6:45 pm.

drabble inspired by this post that @hobi-gif​​ tagged me in.  i'm a sucker for misunderstandings, y'know?  also, this is unedited and not proofread.  xoxo

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  general.  tags.  a bit of dumb angst due to misunderstandings, some fluff to make up for it, mentions of drinking/alcohol, idiots in love. idk.  wc.  1.9k.

“So, you’re shooting bourbon at 7:30 on a Wednesday why, exactly?”

How Yoongi manages to keep the judgment out of his voice, you’ll never know.  Maybe it’s a bartender thing - some skill you acquire over time, like an achievement in a video game. 

Charisma:  +30 Listening:  +20 Interest:  0

“Because he replied ‘hella’ when I told him I was in love with him.”  You think if it weren’t so funny (and embarrassing and bruising to your ego), you’d have a hard time repeating it.  Instead, it cuts off the edge of your teeth in a melodramatic wail and you knock back your fourth shot in not very long at all. It burns on the way down, igniting your insides in a very different way than you’d like. 

Luckily, the bar is packed - it’s freshman night! - and your cry is lost in the crowd, eaten up by the awful din that seems to only exist in college bars.  It’s only you and your favourite bartender that hear it and for that you’re grateful. 

“You’re not serious.”  From the look on his face, you know he believes you.  Has to, because he knows the culprit behind your heartache. 

“Do I look like I’m joking?”  You deadpan before waving your liquor-laden wrist in a lazy circle.  “Another, bar wench!” 

It’s not that funny but between the alcohol that’s buzzing in your veins and lighting you up like a goddamn Christmas log to the humiliation that’s burning its way through all your sensibilities— well, you can’t help it.  

You’ve always resorted to humour when you were hurting. 

“I think you should slow down.”  He means well - you can see it in the narrowing of his eyes, the way his mouth tilts just enough to make you feel like a kid in front of the principal - but you don’t want well.  You want more.  Need it.

For a split second, you feel a wave of emotion.  It crests and threatens to swallow you whole, dragging you seven thousand miles beneath your own misery.

You swallow it down as best you can, tasting salt water and the sea when you tug a rough hand through your hair.  It aches a little where your rings catch, threading silver through silk.  “Yoongi, c’mon.”  You ignore the way his name slurs out of your mouth, trapped between wet lips that don’t quite move like they should.  “I’m fine.  Please.”  The desperate edge to your plea tells him enough - that you’re well on your way to having too good of a night, inebriation playing at the sidelines of your vision.  You play it off and shift in your seat, sneakered feet kicking this way and that to right yourself.

To his trained eye, you’re about two minutes from slipping backwards off the worn leather stool.

“Can I call someone at least?”  He’s meeting you halfway, begrudging and a little worried. 

“I’m fine!”  It shoots off your tongue, a rocket to the moon.  You don’t want to come down.

He sighs once, a sharp inhale of breath through his nose.  He’s got that look on his face - the one that tells you you’re going to owe him one.  You think that might be better than returning to your dorm, empty-handed and heavy hearted.  

“Please?”  

Amber liquid finds itself in your shot glass again and you’re quick to snatch it up, worried that Yoongi might dump it the moment he has a chance to consider how he’s indulging you.  You swallow it greedily, as if it isn’t pooling uncomfortable heat everywhere it hits - down your throat and around the sides of your mouth.

“Take it easy,”  comes a voice - an achingly, devastatingly familiar voice - to your left.  It steals your breath - tugs it out of your lungs in the same instant your heart heaves out of your chest.

Jeon Jungkook’s grinning that megawatt smile at you, dimples on full display.  His hair’s a little damp and more than a little messed up, sweeping across his forehead in that way that makes you want to run your fingers through it.  Shoulders are swathed in soft cotton and plaid, the navy blue and grey pattern a stark contrast to the blinding white of his tee shirt.  

He looks so good you want to eat him up.

Instead, you jolt like you’re about to lose the contents of your stomach.

Hands - both his and yours - dart out.  Yours grip the sticky booze-stained bartop;  his seize your elbows, steadying you easily.  You try to ignore the way his palms burn heat across your skin. 

“You okay?”  He says it so sweetly, as if he hadn’t just shattered your hopes and dreams into a million little pieces less than an hour ago.  He says it like he always does, with affection painting his words and stars in his eyes.  Even in the dim light, they’re mesmerizing, constellations swirling in his irises.

You have to make a conscious effort to tear your gaze away, redirecting your - admittedly fuzzy - stare to the speck of lint on his collar.  It honestly doesn’t help much, because like this, you can see the trail of ink that drifts past his neckline.  Swirls of black work that make up the roses that span his shoulders, capping each segment of bone prettily.  

He repeats himself when your silence stretches too long for his liking, a tattooed finger rising to tap gently along the ridge of your jaw, thumb sweeping just so across your chin.  “Hey, baby.  You good?”

A part of you wants to live in the way that sounds.  You’re a sucker for pet names and while you’ve heard this one once or twice (or a hundred times), it coils itself like a cobra around the organ in your chest, poised to ruin you.  One wrong move and you’d be paralyzed on the ground.

“What’re you doing here?”  You finally manage, tearing your roving eyes from the patterns you know lie beneath cloth.  

It’s not the smartest move - because you’re distracted by his stupid handsome face again.

“Well, you didn’t answer my text so I got worried.  Checked your Snapchat and saw you were here.”  It comes so nonchalantly, like he hadn’t just discovered you drowning your sorrows in cheap whiskey.  

“I didn’t answer your text?” 

You can see Yoongi lingering at the edge of your periphery, hand paused around a glass that he’s in the middle of passing off.  You wonder how crazy you must sound, or if you do at all.  Maybe just pathetic?  You don’t want to think about it too hard.  

“You said ‘hella’ to my confession!  What am I supposed to say back to that?”

“What’re you talking about?”  It’s Jungkook’s turn to take the title of village idiot, big doe eyes widening to the size of saucers.  You want to smack the expression off his face - would, too, if your heart didn’t also clench pitifully at the thought of hurting him.  

You think he might be backtracking when he retreats a hairsbreadth, releasing you in the same moment his other hand dives into the front of his too-tight black jeans.  The denim strains against his thighs, muscle and sinew flexing when he transfers his weight enough to allow him to yank his phone out of his pocket.  Said device is in your face in the next instant, glaringly bright screen making you shy away.  

Who the hell kept their brightness at 100%?

“Hey - look at this.”  He sounds stern as he continues to wave the sleek black iPhone before your eyes, seemingly unaware of the fact that you can’t damn well see a thing with him constantly moving it.

“Stop!”  You snap, finally, drink-addled hands snatching it out of his hands when he’s still twirling it like the most annoying wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube man in existence. 

With the phone in your own two hands, you peer down at the screen, trying to make sense of what you’re looking at.  There’s definitely your last two texts - you cringe at the sight of them, blue bubbles bursting your own - but there’s a slew of others beneath it and they’re all delivered, the read receipt mocking you. 

You nearly yeet the phone across the room when, after two or three read-throughs, you grasp what he’s said.  “You want to date me?”  The words fumble on their way out, knocking into each other in a way that’s equal parts drunk-girl and stupefied-crush. 

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”  He’s got that shit-eating grin of his lighting up his face, sweeping sunshine and daisies into every corner of his expression.  It’s at complete odds with the way his mouth twists and turns, flat of his cheek rounded by the tongue he presses into it.  You’re both awestruck and turned on all at once.  You feel like you might short circuit or maybe that you already have.

It’s the only explanation for the way you’re surging forward - because you’d never do it otherwise, unless you weren’t in control of your own stupid body - and all but throwing yourself against him.

As if he anticipates it, he receives you like a bed you’ve been away from for too long, broad palms sweeping across the backs of your thighs as you cling to him like a koala.  Your cheeks burn white hot and steeped in something - love, lust, a mixture of both - and you hum comfortably against the column of his throat.  The sound is returned tenfold, echoing from his cavernous chest like the happiest cat in the world.  It shakes your entire body, so closely pressed to him that you can feel every vibration that runs through all five feet, ten inches of him. 

“I’m guessing that’s a yes?”  His words lose themselves in your hair, breath warm against the shell of your ear as he squeezes you tight.

You give him his answer in the press of your mouth, parted and a little sloppy, more tongue and teeth than technique.  You swallow the laugh that builds, devouring it like a kid in a candy store with the intensity of your adoration.  “Hell-a yes.”

The way he grips you in response, laughter rolling off him in intoxicating waves - because you’d happily get drunk off the sound - fizzes excitement through your limbs. 

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”  Both of you know the answer to that question, the knowledge passing silently between you.  

You smirk;  Jungkook mirrors it.  He surges forward for another kiss and you’re meeting him halfway, slanting your mouth greedily across his.  He relents for the briefest moment - lets you savour the gentle brush of his lips, the soft pass of his tongue - before he’s taking all he can get.  He’s licking over your teeth, laving hotly across every inch in a way that makes your head spin.  

“Get a room!”  It comes from your right, somewhere just behind you. 

“We should take their advice, baby.”  He coos, breaking away just enough for you to gulp in lungfuls of air.  His lips are the prettiest shade of red, kiss swollen and slicked with spit.  

At any other time, you might be ashamed - you can only imagine how you look - but here and now, fueled by the knowledge of reciprocated love and the pleasant warmth of liquor, you couldn’t care less.  So you kiss the boy you love, eager and with hands trailing the expanse of his back.

“Let’s go.”

[highly-opinionated-ramblings]

There’s something wrong with my eye,” Simmons announces loudly.

No one answers him.

“I said, there’s something wrong with my eye!” he repeats, louder this time.

“So?!” Grif hollers back from down the hall. “What the fuck do you want me to do about it?!” 

“I want you to get in here and offer to do something about it!”

“What exactly do you expect me to be able to do about it?” Grif asks, appearing in Simmon’s doorway, looking disgruntled. He’s holding a well-worn comic book in one hand, one finger stuck between the pages to mark his place. “Do I look like a fucking medic to you?”

“My <em>mechanical</em> eye, doofus,” Simmons says flatly. Comics are the only thing he ever willingly reads. Simmons always tries to make sure they have enough left over in their monthly budget to get the latest issues shipped to their base.

“How does that make any difference?” Grif demands. “Go ask Sarge for help. Or Lopez.”

“They’re not here, though, and you are.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I don’t want to get up. I don’t know if my legs will work right.”

“Wait, what?”

“Last time I had a glitch it made my knee-jerk reaction go off spontaneously and I accidentally kicked Sarge in the-”

“I don’t wanna know! Look, are you sure we shouldn’t just fetch Lopez?”

“I think it’s probably just a screw loose,” Simmons says, offhand. Easy fix. “Messing up the wiring in my brain.”

“Why is your eye wired into your brain?”

“Everything is wired into my brain, dummy. It wouldn’t work otherwise. 

“That seems like really bad planning.”

“Your eyes are wired into your brain, too.”

“Mine are organic! You lose one screw and it messes up everything!”

“Grif, you’re so useless! Are you going to help me or not?”

“Alright! Jeez, what’s eating you today?”

“Oops, sorry. The glitch is making it hard to control what’s coming out of my mouth. I just keep uncontrollably blurting out everything I’m thinking.”

“That’s what you do every day. Are you sure that’s part of it?”

“Shut up! I find this situation very frustrating and inconvenient. I wish you would hurry up and screw my missing piece back in.”

“Maybe you should say that last bit a bit louder, I don’t think Tucker heard you that time.”

“Grif, sometimes I sincerely do not like you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Take your helmet off, then, let me get a look at this.”

Simmons reaches up and carefully removes his helmet, as instructed. Grif reaches over and carefully lays his comic down on Simmons’ desk before moving closer.

“Oh, I see it now. It’s this one right here, barely hanging in there by a thread. Dude, I think this whole, uh, face-plate thing is hanging crooked on here.”

“Well, fix it!”

“Alright already! Where’s a screwdriver?”

“In that drawer.”

Grif pulls off his own helmet and sets it aside, pulling open the indicated drawer and rummaging through the clutter inside.

“Is this the right one?”

“No, you need the purple one.”

“This one is purple!”

“No, it’s not, it’s blue!”

“Is this malfunction making you colorblind, too? It’s fucking purple! Look, here, give me the screw. See? This is the right size!”

Grif brandishes the screwdriver in front of him, for emphasis. Simmons stares at it for a moment.

“Grif I think the malfunction is messing with my color vision too.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Grif leans in and reaches out to adjust the metal plating on Simmons’ face back into place. Simmons blinks, hard, and suddenly the handle of the screwdriver looks a little bit more purple.

“Is this going to, like...hurt you?” Grif asks, pausing with the screwdriver in his hand.

“No,” Simmons assures him. The screw itself is only about half an inch long. Not nearly long enough to poke through far enough to do any damage.

“Alright then, hang tight.”

Grif lines the screw up and starts fumbling with it, frowning.

“It doesn’t want to go back in...”

“You have to hold it straight.”

“I’m trying! It’s at a weird angle. Stop turning your head.”

“Wow, your hands are like...really warm. That’s weird. Or maybe my face is just cold? Is my face cold?”

“Shut up,” Grif grumbles, “you’re distracting me.”

“Sorry. I’m just feeling a little, uhhhh, vulnerable. And nervous.”

“Stop fidgeting.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m just not really comfortable with the idea of you being so close to me?”

“Hey, I offered to go get Lopez, and you said no.”

“Oh, it’s not because I don’t think you’re capable-”

“I said stop fidgeting!”

“-it’s because I find you very attractive.”

“Wait, what?!”

“What?!”

“Oh my god, Simmons, get a fucking grip!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Sit still, you’re gonna make me drop the screw again-”

“I didn’t mean to say that!”

“For the love of fucking- sit down!”

Grif takes one hand away from Simmons’ face and grabs him tightly by the shoulder. Simmons makes an especially undignified high-pitched sound of distress, and freezes in place.

“You’re a dumbass, and I hate you,” Grif growls. 

“I’m really sorry. I never told you that because I thought it would be awkward aaaaaaaand it turns out I was right. I’m sorry.”

“For the last time, sit fucking still.”

“I didn’t want to make things weird, especially since we’ve been living together since, well, basically forever now.”

“Shut up.”

“But the truth is, I know you really just don’t like to shave, because you’re lazy, but I think it’s nice how you always have some kind of stubble situation going o-”

“Simmons, for the love of god, if you’ve got to talk, go back to talking about something that’s not me!”

“I can’t control it!”

“I’m fixing your damn screw as fast as I can, but if you say one more thing about me I’m leaving right now!”

“I think Doc is attractive, too?” Simmons confesses, in a desperate attempt to steer his ridiculous and increasingly-panicky word-vomit trainwreck in another direction.

“You have terrible taste in men.”

“And Locus.”

“Alright, well, that one’s a given. Everyone thinks Locus is attractive.”

“Yeeeeaaaaahhhh. I overheard your sister and Wash talking about him once, and I was glad it wasn’t just me.”

“I think I’ve almost got this- there! How does that feel?”

“Uh…” 

Simmons flexes the human muscles in his face, tensing up against the edge of the metal plating. It seems to be fitting more normally. He can still feel himself blushing, but he hasn’t blurted out any other embarrassing secrets in the past three seconds, and the screwdriver in Grif’s hand is most definitely purple once again.

“I think that did it!”

“Really? You sure you don’t have any other stupid shit to say? Like how you’ve always secretly wanted Sarge to step on you, or anything like that?”

“No! Dude, that’s gross!”

“So was all that other stuff you just said! Seriously, I’m embarrassed for you right now.”

“Grif, look, forget I said any of that, ok? Please? Just...forget it.”

“I’d like nothing better. Believe me.”

“Sorry,” Simmons mutters as Grif angrily jams his helmet back onto his head and recollects his comic book.

“Whatever. Just don’t call me to fix any more of your malfunctions in the future, ok?”

“Yeah. I just...sorry.”

Grif hesitates on his way out the door, as if there’s something more he wants to say.

But in the end, he just snaps, “you really do have terrible taste in men. You should get out more, or something,” and stalks off back down the hall.

“Yeah,” Simmons sighs to the empty room. “Maybe I should.”

[amethyst-crystalfly]

“Fever Dream”

Pairing | Todoroki Shoto x f reader

Themes | Hurt/comfort, fluff, tooth rotting fluff, fever comfort

warning | migraine attacks? mentions of passing out ( I am sorry I don’t know if they really need warnings, but just in case since this is my first time posting a fic like this)

Authour’s note: Hi guys! This is my new secondary blog for all stuff anime related. Feel free to leave a comment or drop an ask for a fic yu might be interested in. This is written from my personal experience with migraines, but you might have had different experiences, but I hope you enjoy this! Thank you so much for reading Love you!

wc | 2454 

You stirred on your bed to the sound of your morning alarm going off. As you reached for the digital clock to make it stop you felt a dull headache building up.

“Ugh it is way too early for this right now” you thought to yourself as you groggily sat up in your dorm room bed. You were an aspiring hero you surely couldn’t let a small headache get in the way of your hero course classes. So, you stood up with resolve to get through this day and tried to block out the steadily increasing headache.

You went about your usual routine and promptly met your dorm mates for breakfast after getting ready for classes. You greeted them and tried your best to participate in conversations despite of the uneasiness.

Class started as usual and you decided to keep yourself busy in order to keep your mind off the headache. However, your eyes were burning up, they felt prickly. Every time you closed your eyes it felt like someone was pricking needles at your eyes. It was Mike sensei’s class and he had instructed everyone to silent read the short story he had just explained. You rested your aching forehead against your palms to support them while trying your best to read the instructed chapter. You could feel a fever coming, these were your usual symptoms before you got a fever. You sensed a light poke on your back and knew it was Mina calling you to say something, that is how you guys talked in between classes.

“hey are you alright? You seem a bit off” Mina whispered “you are usually more interactive in classes, is everything alright?”

“I am fine just a bit tiered I guess” you assured her.

She was not exactly convinced but she decided that she would save it for later. However,Mina was not the only one who had noticed this change, you had received concerned glances from a lot of your classmates today through out the classes. One person seemed to be particularly more concerned, Todoroki Shoto.

After English lessons the class was finally dismissed for lunch, much to your relief.

“I’ll join you guys at the table! I have some work to do before I have lunch” you told your friends

“Okay but hurry up and come soon!” Hagakure waved (or at least you assumed she did from the movement of her clothes)

“I will save a seat for you” Jirou offered as she followed the other to the cafeteria.

Once they left you let out a heavy sigh and started organizing your desk like you usually do before you join your friends for lunch in the school cafeteria.

“y/n-Chan are you feeling fine? Your eyes look glossy” You looked up to meet Ochaco’s concerned gaze.

You chuckled and yet again gave words of false reassurance to your friend, but even you knew you were pretty far off from fine right now.

“let’s go have lunch” you said after finishing organizing your desk for the next class after lunch. But as you stood up you managed to knock off your water bottle from the desk as you nearly fell over from the sudden dizziness and you had to grip the edge of your desk to keep from falling on your face.  

“y/n Chan!” Uraraka gasped and rushed to help you stabilize yourself but the moment she touched your arm her hands involuntarily jerked back. “Oh my gosh! You are burning up!”

You were still attempting to stabilize your blurry vision and push down the boughs of dizziness “I-I am fine” you managed to mumble out.

It felt more like an attempt to convince yourself than to reassure her. Most of the class had already dispersed to the cafeteria, save for Mina and Ochaco who had stayed back to accompany you to the cafeteria and Todoroki lingering by the class room door, you weren’t sure why he stayed back.

“y/n Chan you should go to the infirmary! We will inform Aizawa Sensei” Mina said

“Yes, I will also give you my notes if you need! Just please take some rest” Ochaco chimed in, worry lacing her words.

Todoroki was silently observing this from distance, he wanted to reach out and help you but he was unsure about how to approach you. Upon seeing how delirious your condition was he decided to put his hesitance aside and he walked over to your desk.

“I can escort you to the infirmary, if you want that is, I..” he paused as if to find the correct word “I would be glad to help you”

Mina and Ochaco shared a secretive look at this and almost giggled. “Oh no they are being too obvious! This is so embarrassing!!” you internally screamed in embarrassment as your cheeks heated up further at Todoroki’s words and blush bloomed across your features.

“Yes, that would be perfect Todoroki kun! Please assist her!” Mina exclaimed and Ochaco offered her words of agreement.

You could not let this happen, you did not want Todoroki Shoto, the boy you secretly admired so much, to see you like this. What if he thought that you were weak? You are all training to be heroes, right? weakness is not acceptable! …right? Your mind was swimming not only with uncertainties but also with dizziness. You looked up to meet Todoroki’s eyes, and you saw worry and tenderness in them, for you and your heart almost melted at that. But no, you needed to attend these classes they were important how could you miss them; you would be falling behind. You attempted to let go of the sides of the desk you had been clutching for support and straighten up “Todoroki Kun I- “your voice trailed off as black spots appeared in your vision and you saw Todoroki Shoto’s beautiful face growing hazy, the sounds and worried voices around you felt so distant as unconsciousness took over.

You felt firm hands holding you, as if someone was carrying you somewhere, was this Todoroki Shoto? You brain felt too fuzzy to understand. Your one arm was draped over the persons neck and your head was resting on their shoulder. You semi-consciously nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck finding the warmth there. You could feel the person tense up for a moment, at that you muttered an incoherent apology before fading back to unconsciousness again.  

The next time you woke up it was on one of the infirmary beds. You groaned at the sensation of the bright lights hitting your eyes and you turned to your side and curled up, pressing your palms to your eyes to protect them from the lights. The fever had induced a migraine which was your prime tormentor right now. When a migraine attack hit you, lights became your worst enemies as they made the migraine more unbearable. Recovery girl walked in moments later with some medicine from the other room for your fever. She helped you sit up and gave you the medicines with the gentle care of a grandmother. She had the lights dimed on your request and listened to your concerns.

“I am sorry darling but I can’t heal your migraine head ache, since it is not a physical injury, but I will give you some meds to help you with the fever. I suggest you take an off for a few days and get plenty of rest” You simply nodded as she got up to go write you a leave note. “and oh! The young man who brought you to the infirmary said he would drop by at dispersal before heading for the dorm, you can go back with him since you are still not stable enough, he should be here in a while” she informed you while leaving the room.

That caught your attention. "Todoroki brought me here? Did he indeed carry me to the infirmary?? And he was coming back?? To check on me???" You felt yourself turn into a blushing mess and you buried your face in your hands. “It’s nothing” you told yourself “He is probably just doing it out of the goodness of his heart not like he won’t do the same for anyone else, he was a good guy, it is probably nothing else, I should not get hopeful” Your train of thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. And you found Todoroki standing there.

“Hello y/n Chan, are you feeling better?”

“Yes somewhat…” you paused looking down “I-I am sorry for all the trouble...”

“please don’t apologize! It is no problem at all really” He assures you with a gentle smile. That smile that damned smile, it made you lose all focus.  Gosh if only you could kiss him--that thought itself startled you so much that you stood up from the bed with a jerk. The sudden movement made your head hurt and you winced in pain.

“what happened?” He seemed confused

“oh, it’s nothing!” you tried to laugh it off “we should, umm go, I think I would feel better in my room”

He motioned for you to lead the way. You both made your way towards the exit of the school building in silence.

“Did anything important happen in class today? Any new announcements?” You asked breaking the silence

He hesitated for a moment before saying “I made a separate list of home works for you and I umm also printed a copy of my notes for you…so umm…you don’t need to worry; you can find everything there”  

It made your heart soar, you were genuinely touched by this but you were also surprised “Todoroki kun thank you so much, I-I really don’t have words…thank you so much!!”

You saw his ears turn pink at that and a faint blush started forming on his cheeks, “it is alright, you don’t need to thank me” he said. You caught yourself staring at him and quickly averted your gaze.

As you stepped outside the school building, you groaned at the sun mercilessly shining. You hid your face in your hands again.

“Are you alright y/n Chan?” He asked concerned, lightly touching your arm.

“It’s just the sun…bright light worsens my migraine” The school corridor was cool and fairly dark hence it wasn’t that bad but stepping out in the sun was not the same.

“let’s go, I got this” you said without removing your hands.

You felt Shoto place his one hand around your shoulder, holding you steadily as he said “yes, let’s go”

He guided you towards the dorms and you kept shielding not just your eyes from the sun but also using it as an excuse to hide your blushing face.

You slumped a bit against him in relief was once you entered the dorms and the cool atmosphere greeted you. The hallway was thankfully empty much to your relief, if your friends saw you like this with Todoroki, there will be no end to their teasing.

Todoroki’s hand shifted from around your shoulder to the small of your back, ready to support you in case you stumble. The air between the two of you was tense, it felt like there were things which you both wanted to say but no one spoke. Your heart was hammering in your chest as he led you towards your dorm room. As you reached the dorm room, your hands were clammy as you tried to fish your keys out from one of your skirt pockets. He also seemed rather unusually clumsy while he was searching for the notes in his bag. He handed them over to you gently, and your fingers brushed. You were both alone in the hallway and it was steadily getting more awkward. As you were searching for things to say standing in the doorway, Todoroki broke the silence.

“y/n Chan, I have something to tell you...”

your heart sped up but you tried to appear calm and you casually leaned against the doorframe as you said “Yes, sure, go ahead”

“I…I am usually not very good with expressing feelings with words, but I want to tell you, today when I saw you like that it really got me worried, I know sickness and injuries are a part of life, especially with the nature of the work we are aiming for, it will probably be fairly common” he paused and took a deep inhale before continuing, still not meeting your eyes “What I am trying to say is, I want to be there for you, I know you are strong and you don’t need to be protected, but I want to fight by your side and always have your back, and if something gets you down I want to help you up…” he stops and sighs and shakes his head mumbling something to himself before finally meeting your gaze, “Y/n Chan I like you, a lot, I probably am not making sense right n—”

You cut him off by and cupping the side of his face in your palm and reaching up on your tip toes and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I like you too Shoto kun, a lot”

His face turns bright red at this and you giggle at that.

“really?” he asks surprised

“umhmm” you nod suppressing a smile as you step closer to him.

He tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear with an amused smile, as if he couldn't quite believe what you just said. He gently takes your hand in his. And presses a soft kiss on your knuckle and says “You should change and get some rest now, we can get back to this conversation later, I will be right back and bring you something to eat since you haven’t had lunch, okay?”

You nodded smiling at him. As he left and you closed your door you nearly jumped out of joy, your heart was about to burst. You washed up and quickly changed into an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts. You were starting to feel slightly cold again which probably meant the fever was coming back but you were far too giddy with joy to care. You opened your door upon hearing a knock. Todoroki greeted you with a smile and placed a steaming bowl of Shoba on your table.

“I always have some Shoba in my fridge, so I got you some, I should go now…I am probably interrupting your rest, take care okay?”

You simply walked towards him and wrapped your arms around him in a hug wordlessly and nuzzled your face against his chest. That earned you a soft laugh from him, which you absolutely cherished, and he wrapped his arms around you too.

“Shoto kun?” he smiled at the sound of his name on your lips

“hmm?”

“Stay with me”

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

heyyyy luv could you please bless us with a secret relationship and bucky :')

specifics: bucky is always disappearing from the compound and everyone figures that it's bucky being bucky.. but he's visiting his civilian girlfriend and knows that she'll be in danger the moment they go public so he doesn't even tell the team about her.. and their circumstances of meeting could be in the aftermath of some Avengers thing?

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

Word Count: 2,837

Y/N had just hopped out of the shower and was now combing her hair and applying all your moisturizers. She was home alone in her small, one-bedroom apartment. She had some soft music playing from her laptop, trying to wind down from her day.

However, when she stepped out of the bathroom, there was a large man casually moving about her bedroom.

Y/N yelped and nearly dropped her towel from the fright.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Bucky! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

He immediately looked guilty and tried to make himself smaller and less intimidating. “I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I thought you weren’t getting back until tomorrow,” she pointed out, hand still over her heart as if it would calm its racing.

He stepped over to her and gave her a hello kiss. “Got home quicker than we planned. I texted you, but I can obviously see that you were in the shower when I sent it.” He pointed to her phone that she’d left on her nightstand.

Then Bucky cupped her cheek and kissed her again, slower and more passionately this time.

“I really am sorry for scaring you,” he told her as he pressed his forehead against hers.

He could clearly hear the rapid beating of her heart with those insane super-soldier senses.

“It’s OK. Should be used to your sneaky, ninja ways by now.”

He chuckled.

That’s when Y/N saw the bruise on his left cheek. His hair was wet too. 

Bucky always showered before he came to see her after missions. Y/N had told him time and time again that he could shower at her place. Bucky always just shrugged and said it was quicker to do it at the compound. But he was actually just trying to hide all the blood that was left on his skin. Y/N didn’t need to see it. Especially when it wasn’t his blood.

“I’m fine. Just a few bruises. Don’t you go starting…” Bucky warned when he saw the concern in her eyes as she stared at his bruise.

Y/N sighed and allowed him to brush over it.

Then she moved around him to hunt for some pajamas and underwear.

“What’d you tell the team?” She tried to ask in a nonchalant manner as she shuffled through her dresser.  

“What do you mean?” Bucky played stupid.

Y/N straightened and turned to give him a look. “I mean, what lie did you tell them before you came over here.”

She didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh.

“I didn’t tell them anything. I snuck out when they were all in the kitchen eating.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, just went back to find clothes.

Bucky was suddenly filled with guilt. “Y/N–”

“It’s fine, Bucky.” She threw on a crew sweatshirt without even realizing that it was one of the many items of clothing Bucky left at her place.

“It’s not fine. You’re upset.”

She was fully dressed now and turned around to face him. “I’m not upset. I’m frustrated.”

Y/N was always one to be direct with her emotions. Never lied about being fine when she was not. Always told Bucky exactly how she was feeling, even if it took her a bit to fully figure out what that was. It was one of the countless reasons he loved her. And it made him less shy about expressing his own emotions. His mental and emotional health only improved because of it. Because of her.

“OK…” Bucky said slowly, inviting her to continue.

Y/N sighed and plopped herself on the edge of her bed. He sat down next to her. 

“Look, Bucky…I know why this – us – is secret. I understand where you’re coming from. I know…” She took a breath. “I know you do it because you think it keeps me safe. But the team…they’re more than the Avengers. They’re your friends. They’re your family. And I might not have ever met them, but from what you’ve told me, they would die before they told anyone your secrets.”

Bucky swallowed and was wringing his hands in his lap, head hung in slight shame. “I know that.”

“So why are you keeping me a secret from them?”

“It has nothing to do with you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Bucky immediately shot down. “I’m not embarrassed or ashamed of you, Y/N. Hell, every day I wake up and wonder how I even managed to snag a dame like you. If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s you.”

She waited for him to continue and explain.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Then he reached over to hold her hand. “It’s just…I feel like as soon as you meet them, our little bubble of happiness is going to pop.” His metal hand ran through his wet hair. “When I’m with you, I just feel like Bucky. Sometimes I even feel like my old self, that naive bastard from the 30s.” He sighed. “But as soon as I introduce you to that part of my life, I’m scared you’ll see all the things about myself that I don’t want you to. You’ll be reminded that I am – was – the Winter Soldier. That I’m not just Bucky, your boyfriend. I’m a surviving POW, I’m an assassin, a soldier, an Avenger. I won’t be able to hide all my baggage once that happens.”

Y/N watched him for a moment, love was in her eyes.

“Bucky, I knew those things all along.”

“I know. I know, doll. But I just – I don’t want anything to change between us.”

Y/N laughed lightly. “Of course things will change between us. That’s part of a relationship. We grow together.” She laughed again. “Or grow apart.” Then her smile dropped and she got serious. “But I don’t see the latter happening for us.”

Bucky just nodded in agreement.

“They love you like I love you.” Y/N shrugged sadly. “I just want to meet the people that take care of you when you’re not with me.”

Bucky gave her a sorrowful grin.

Y/N sighed. “I’m not going to pressure you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with. I just wanted to tell you how I was feeling about it all.”

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Thank you for telling me.”

Their night went on like it normally did. Bucky had returned Friday night, so now he got to spend the whole weekend with his girl.

When he was gone from the compound for long periods like this, Steve was the only one that really showed concern. He thought Bucky was always on some weird mental bender, going night after night without sleep and just wandering around. Bucky figured Steve imagined him trying to get drunk from one bar to the next.

Obviously Bucky felt guilty for unnecessarily worrying his best friend, especially when he was actually doing better than OK. But letting Steve believe in the false ideas was a sacrifice Bucky was willing to make in order to have Y/N in his life.

Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N’s argument for her to meet his friends. He understood completely where she was coming from. He wished he could give her that. He wished he could give her normal – that he was a different person, who didn’t have to hyper analyze every single decision in his life in order to keep himself and the people he loved safe.

But that kind of life was taken from him when he fell off that damn train.

————————————————

“You’re a god damn idiot, you know that?” Steve snapped at Bucky as he started ripping bandages from a roll with his teeth.

Bucky was currently laying down on the quinjet’s operating table.

“Sometimes I just hate that Captain America gets all the attention,” Bucky joked.

But Steve wasn’t laughing.

Because Bucky was bleeding out. 

And he was in pain, yes. But he wasn’t about to tell anyone that.

“Well, dying on me is definitely one way to steal the spotlight, punk.”

“Captain Rogers, if I could interrupt,” Vision was looking at Bucky over Steve’s shoulder. “The bullet was a through shot and it thankfully hit no important arteries or organs. Do not be fooled by the blood, Sergeant Barnes’ super-soldier enhancements will heal him faster than the average man.”

Steve ground his teeth, thankful for Vision’s scientific encouragement but also still irritated with Bucky’s condition. “Thanks, Vision.”

“See,” Bucky started coughing. He could only imagine how pale and clammy he looked. “I’m fine.”

“Oh. Well, I do still suggest we stop the bleeding or he will surely die of blood loss.” Vision piped in again.

Bucky glared at the cyborg. “We gotta work on your delivery, pal.”

Vision winced, but got out of Steve’s way.

“You just had to go and get yourself shot. You couldn’t let me take a bullet for once,” Steve muttered as he put pressure on Bucky’s giant wound.

“Well, you see, your shield was still planted in a brick wall and I saw someone pointing a gun at you. I thought my metal arm would do the trick but the bastard shifted his aim at the last minute.” He glared at Steve for real now. “I’m not sorry. And I’d do it again.”

Steve exhaled, knowing that there was no point in scolding Bucky. The man would sacrifice himself for any of his teammates and any civilian. That’s why Steve was friends with him.

“Hey, Steve?” For the first time since getting shot, Bucky sounded scared.

“Yeah, Buck.”

“I need you to do me a favor.”

Steve nodded. “OK…”

“You can’t…You can’t ask any questions. You just have to do it, OK? I promise I’ll explain later.”

His tone was starting to worry Steve. “Bucky, you’re not dying on me, you hear me? If this is some final wish, I’ll smack you.”

“I’m not dying today. I’ve been through worse shit. Just tell me you’ll do the damn favor, Steve.”

“OK. OK. OK. What is it?”

“I’m about to pass out from the blood loss. So, listen to me carefully.” Bucky’s eyes flickered around him to make sure no one else was paying attention to him. “I need you to get my cell. Find the contact labeled Smithsonian Institution Offices. Text them that I’d like my dog tags returned from the museum. She’ll know what to do from there.”

Bucky’s body relaxed once his instructions were finished. His eyes fluttered close. Sleep sounded nice.

“She?” Steve asked.

But Bucky was already passed out.

——————————————

Steve had been pacing in the welcome lobby of the compound for a solid 20 minutes now. He was pretty sure he’d correctly put together the puzzle pieces. But Steve was having trouble believing that Bucky would do what he was suspecting.

All pacing stopped when he saw security escorting a young woman through the doors.

She was beautiful. Anyone with sight would notice that immediately.

Even if her eyes were red – which Steve suspected was from crying – they were mesmerizing.

She looked uncomfortable and clearly felt out of place at the Avengers’ compound.

Steve stepped forward. “Y/N?” He asked carefully.

She stared at him for a moment, taking him in like she was trying to match up the reality to how she had pictured him in her head.

Then she nodded.

Steve eyed the two security guards on either side of her. “I’ll take it from here. Thanks.”

Then he turned his attention to Y/N. “Follow me.”

They started their journey through the large and complicated halls of the compound. Every so often, someone walking past them would eye Y/N, not recognizing her or wondering who was lucky enough to be in the company of Captain America.

“So…” Steve felt the need to break the silence on their long walk. “You and Bucky. You’re…”

“This is not how I wanted to meet you, Steve.” She quickly rushed out. “I’m so sorry. It was Bucky’s idea, keeping me a secret.”

“Oh, I know there was no way it was anyone’s idea but his own. This has Bucky written all over it. I’m just still trying to…” Steve scratched the back of his neck, “wrap my mind around it.” Then he shook his head. “It explains a lot actually: the late nights, leaving for days at a time, keeping his phone on him at all times.”

Y/N smirked then. “I send him a lot of stupid videos during the day. Mostly cats.”

They were at the medical wing then. Steve turned to face her. “I get it. I get why he did it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not still hurt that he thought he couldn’t tell me.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, understanding where he was coming from. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m happy to be meeting you now. Obviously I wish the circumstances were better.” She gave him a sad smile. “He’s told me all about you. I feel like I know all of you actually.” She bowed her head. “I practically begged him to let me meet all of you. But Bucky – he’s very protective of me.”

Steve nodded. That same characteristic was the very reason Bucky was even injured in the first place.

“He might be sleeping. But he’s in the first room on the left. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

Y/N nodded. She was about to take a step forward, but then quickly changed her mind and hurriedly pulled Steve into a hug.

Steve was caught off guard by it, but quickly recovered.

“Thanks for always taking care of him, Steve.” She whispered into his shoulder.

“I think I should be the one saying that to you…”

Y/N pulled away and quickly wiped away tears with embarrassment. “Right. I should…” She awkwardly pointed to the room and walked away.

Steve was going to give them a moment. But his curiosity couldn’t be stopped.

Ever so quietly, he tiptoed to the edge of the room and stood hidden off to the side of the door.

“Doll, please don’t cry. I promise I’m OK. It’s all part of the job.” Steve heard Bucky trying to console her.

“When I got the text,” Y/N cried. “I just knew it wasn’t you who sent it. I knew something was wrong. I’d been feeling off all day.” She sniffed. “Bucky, I was so scared.”

“Shhh. I’m OK. Everything’s OK. Come here, Y/N.”

There was shuffling and Steve could only assume Bucky had pulled her entire body to him.

“I love you,” Y/N whispered.

“I love you too, doll.”

An hour later, Steve found both of them passed out. Even injured and asleep, Bucky had both his arms protectively around Y/N, holding her as close as possible. His nose in her hair. Her head on his chest.

——————

A week later, Bucky found Steve in the study.

He’d been discharged a couple days ago, but firmly ordered not to overexert himself. The team had let him heal, all of them slowly being told about Y/N’s existence and letting her be the one to nurse Bucky back to health in privacy.

“You want to talk about this?” Bucky asked as he leaned against the doorway.

Steve closed his sketchbook and rubbed his face with a sigh.

“You’re allowed to be mad at me, you know.” Bucky added.

“I get why you did it. I do.” Then Steve finally looked at him. “But that still doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“Y/N…she was the only thing in my life that was all mine and no one else’s. Everything else about me is owned by the world. My story, my history, my imprisonment. It’s out there for the world to read and make unfair judgements about.” Bucky shook his head. “I just couldn’t bare to bring Y/N into that: to be judged and criticized.”

“It’s me we’re talking about, Bucky.” Steve argued.

“But it wouldn’t stop there. Next it would’ve been Sam, then Nat, then Tony. It’s a slippery slope. All I ever wanted to do was keep her safe, Steve.”

“I know. I know.” Steve sighed. “That’s why I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not.”

“That means a lot to me, Steve.”

“You know, it all makes sense now.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “What does?”

“Why you’ve changed so much – and I mean for the better. You seemed happier, lighter, healthier. It’s because of Y/N, isn’t it?”

Bucky smiled even at just hearing her name. “Yeah, it is.”

Steve nodded and gave him a shy grin. “I talked to the team. They understand the situation.” His eyes grew heavy with earnestness. “Your secret is safe with us, Bucky.” He cleared his throat. “She’s one of us now. And we protect our own.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Can you just do us all a favor though? Can you start bringing her around? Maybe just properly introduce her to everyone at least?”

Bucky smiled. “I think we can manage that. Y/N would – that would make her really happy.”

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

I have a few more of these requests to fill. Honestly, they’ve been fun and a great palette cleanser.

Let me know what you think!

(My requests are no longer open FYI.) 

[hp-imagines-07]

Who Better Than The Love Of My Life?

Sirius Black x Fem!Ravenclaw!Reader

Universe: Harry Potter; The Marauders era

Type: lil angst but really fluff

Summary: being Sirius' best friend isn't easy, but it just get worse when [y/n] fall for him and keeps thinking if they could ever be more then just friends...

Request: YES|no - "Hey sweets! I was wondering if you could do a young!Sirius X reader with 14, 21, 10, 41 please? If possible, could you put y/n in Ravenclaw? Thanks so much for creating such lovely reading material ❤️" @approved-by-dentists | Thank you so much for all the love and i'm so sorry it took so long...

Prompts: 

10 - "I can't do THIS anymore."

14 - "Why are you awake?" "I could ask you the same."

21 - "When was the last time that you slept?"

41 - "We never were just friends, and you know it." "I know it, but you deserve someone better than me."

Warnings: cursing, kiss maybe and a lot of arguments.....

Song: xxx

Word Count: 4.5K

Posted: 2nd of September 2020

A/N: i am so proud of how it ended, i thought that it wouldn't be as good as i wanted it to be, but i fell for sirius and i don't wan to get up anymore, so yeah (don't forget to read the bonus........) and thats a daffodil if you don't know

My Others Accounts: @imagines-07 (Principal Account) | @mcu-imagines-07 (Marvel Comics Universe) | @stit-imagines-07 (Stranger Things & IT) | @obx-imagines-07 (Outer Banks) | @cm-imagines-07​ (Criminal Minds)

MY MASTERLIST

"Why Potions Class is so hard?" You said and sighed, while dropping your head at your book, making Remus just roll his eyes at the way that you were being as dramatic as Sirius. Oh, this boy was so tired of you two making such a scene by nothing.

"It's not that hard. You just have to pay attention!" Remus said the last part a little louder and everyone at the library looked at the two of you, Moony just smiled trying to act normal and pretend that he wasn't feeling his cheeks becoming warmer by being embarrassed.

"I am paying attention, but I just can't understand." You said already giving up and closing your book. Anything was supposed to be so hard to understand, you're a Ravenclaw, you thought that you would understand everything and explain it to the others just like everyone else from the same house as yours, not the other way...

Remus opened his mouth to answer you and probably make you continue to study anyway, but before he could say anything, a pair of hands covered his mouth and another one covered your eyes, while Peter just sat at the other side of the table with a bored expression by Sirius and James' idea.

"Who am I?" A voice asked behind you, but it was obvious that it was Sirius trying to use a deeper voice and you would have rolled your eyes if it wasn't for his hands stopping you.

"I don't know, probably Wormtail..." You said and heard someone sitting at the chair between you and Remus and you just knew that it was Prongs, and Sirius sighed behind you. He took his hands out of your eyes, letting you see again the not so lightly library and your friends rolling their eyes to Sirius' reaction. It was obvious that you were trying to mess with him, and looked like you got it.

"You knew that it was me." Padfoot said while sitting at the chair at your right. You smiled at him and Sirius felt his knees going weak with your beautiful and radiant smile.

Moony asked something to all of you and before you knew, your Potions' book had been already forgotten and you five were chatting about one of the unbelievable gossips going around Hogwarts.

"You really think that this girl is pregnant?" James asked with furrowed eyebrows, looking at you, that just giggled at him and the rest of the Marauders by believing at all of those rumours. But you were too focused on James and Peter arguing if it's true or not, that you didn't notice Sirius bringing his chair closer to yours and putting his arm around your shoulders.

It felt natural, it was like his arm was supposed to be around your shoulders every moment, it was like you were made for it... Sirius' touch was warm against your cold skin and his scent was the best one.

You tried to act normal because he does it - and a lot of other things that are related to physical touch - a lot of times, but since the girls noticed the different way you acted and asked for you if you had feelings about Padfoot a few weeks ago five to be more specific, you couldn't help but also notice that recently you were feeling weird things around him... All the cliche feeling that you had read so many times at a few of your favourite books like butterflies at your stomach, cold and sweaty hands, loud and fast heartbeat, dry throat, warm and red cheeks... You were starting to feel so much of those stupid feelings that you started to involuntary act weird when he's that close to you.

And it all would feel just normal and ordinary if he felt it too when you were together, but how could you know if he felt anything? 

Before you could stop yourself from daydreaming about it, your mind takes you to a universe where you and Sirius were together, where he felt the same about you and you or he had the guts to tell each other about your true feelings - doesn't matter who did first... At this universe, you could call Sirius yours, you didn't need to hide any of those stupid feelings around anyone. Flashes of his arms around your waist, while your back is pressed against his chest, with tangled legs at the grass, just looking at the sky full of stars, passed through your mind, just like the ones where you could feel his body next to yours, with his arm around your shoulder, while flirting with you in front of some boy that was trying to take you to his dorm... You could even feel his kisses on your neck, cheek, lips or anywhere else.

Moments where he called you his girlfriend, and you called him your boyfriend.

"[y/n]?" You blinked a few times and shook your head to send all of your unintentional thoughts to the back of your mind - where they should stay and never get out -, with the hand that was passing in front of your eyes, trying to get your attention.

As you looked around, you noticed that all of your friends were staring at you with confused expressions and all of his foreheads frowned. "What are you thinking about, sunshine?" Padfoot asked you and you turned your head to his direction, feeling various goosebumps going up and down your body with his strong gaze focused on you and no one else - something inside of you even could tell that if someone fell in front of you, he wouldn't even flinch his eyes from yours. The way his arm around your shoulders made his face stay so close to yours, caused you the neediest to kiss him at this exact moment, with all of your friends watching, in the middle of the silent library... 

But you knew that it would be worse for you. He didn't feel that same way about you, he just sees you as his best friend and nothing more than this. And if your heartbeat wasn't so loud and strong in your ears, you would be able to listen to the way your heart started to break in various pieces just with your thoughts. 

You couldn't stay here any second more, you just needed to be able to breathe and organize your mind, you just needed to be alone, you just needed to cry without anyone seeing, you just needed to freak out by yourself while hugging your pillow from your favourite muggle band... You had to be far from anyone, especially Sirius Black.

So, you got up from your seat as fast as you could without passing out, and just ran out of the library as fast as your legs could take you and with everyone looking at you by the sound that your chair did when you got up, the sound of your shoes frenetically tapping against the floor, the voices of your friends calling for you and the fact that you left everything behind (being one of the people that most care books to anywhere you go).

You just stopped when your eyes met the entrance of the Forbidden Forest and then you finally noticed the way that you ran all around Hogwarts to be away from your own best friend. 'What's wrong with me?'

You took this time to breathe a little bit, then started to walk inside the forest. You had been here plenty of times before, just walking around and feeling the cold wind with the all the shadows from the trees, both hitting your body in harmony and union. This never felt so great as now. You feet started to drag you through the trees and as the first shadow got to you, you felt your tense body become way more relaxed. Your thoughts that were running around your head making you go crazy, were completely forgotten, until-

"[y/n]! Wait!" The known voice coming from behind you followed by several footsteps, made you stop on your tracks and turn around, seeing the last person you wanted to see at the moment. "What happened there?" Sirius asked and he felt his heart ache with the vision of your red face with tears running down your face.

"I'm sorry, Pads. I can't talk right now..." You whispered and you even thought that he would be able to listen to your weak and low voice, but you noticed that he had heard you when he just shook his head and tried to walk closer to you, completely ignoring what you just said, because he knows how you always try to hide what you are feeling to anyone. "Please, just leave me alone."

Black took a heavy breath so he could try to control his thoughts and try to connect them to his body, so he wouldn't do something that his heart was screaming at him to do. Sirius' mind was telling him to just go away and let you have the space you were asking for, but his heart was saying that he should go there and hug you, just hold you and confess his feelings to you... But he couldn't.

"Can you just tell me what's wrong? I want to help you!" 

"It's nothing, Sirius." He felt his heart ache by how you just called him. "Just let me be." Your voice was starting to raise with your anger by him not listening to you, and you knew pretty well that the unique one more stubborn than you, it's him.

"I won't just walk away. I won't let you alone right now." Padfoot whispered with a weak voice. All he ever wanted to do was to help you, but you never let him do anything for you, like right now.

"Why?" You screamed.

"Because I love you!" He screamed back and your eyes just watered more than before. Your lip started to shake, your eyes were burning more than ever, your throat became a huge knot, you felt your nose becoming warmer, and the tears starting to run down your already wet face.

"See?" You screamed back, with your voice ruined by the run and all the crying. "That's the problem. I can't do THIS anymore." Your heart was burning, aching, breaking... everything together, but you couldn't pay attention to it right now.

"What are you talking about?" Sirius just started to scream with you, he couldn't understand what was happening and what got you so upset. And if you weren't with a broken heart, a stubborn Sirius and crying, you could've had noticed how his strong accent got so hot at this sentence.

"Me and you." Your voice failed and you couldn't feel more embarrassed to confess your feeling for him in this way. "I'm sorry. I just can't be around you anymore." And you left.

-

Sirius' eyelids wouldn't close for anything in this world.

He was feeling so tired, but he was trying to sleep since '9:28 PM', by his clock. He turned around again and looked again at the clock beside his bed.

'2:52 AM'

An involuntary groan got out of his throat, while he turned to the other side of the bed, probably for the thousandth time this night. But it didn't matter what he did to sleep - he tried everything literally everything - but nothing seemed to word. So he gave up.

Carefully and without doing a single noise, he got out of his bed and started to draggle himself downstairs. As he got to the common room, he saw that anyone was there, but even with all this 'homey' and warm feeling coming from the couch in front of the little fire, Sirius couldn't catch himself to sit there and watch the different ways the fire can be, just like the other nights.

His feet started to take him out of there, and it even seemed like he was in some kind of a trance, because he just noticed where he was when his eyes saw one of the secret passages to Hogsmeade. But this was one of the most far from the Gryffindor Tower, it's on the other side of the castle. Yeah, looked like he walked all the way here.

His eyes flinched away from the door of the passage as he heard a few light footsteps, or he thought he heard because Sirius looked at everywhere around him and everything he saw was the dark corridors of Hogwarts. And then, he focused on the portrait in front of him, it was a beautiful flower, a daffodil, your favourite.

"Pads, what are you doing? Why are you awake?" A voice came from behind Sirius and, if he didn't know the voice, he would've cursed himself by having forgotten his wand at his dorm.

"I could ask you the same, Prongs." Black turned around and saw his best friend, actually just his face and neck, the rest was covered by his invisible coat. But he noticed the fingers of his right hand holding the map, explaining what he was doing here, at the same moment as Padfoot, at this hour.

"I got anxious about the match against Ravenclaw next week." James said and dropped his head a little bit to the side, silently asking for his best friend the same question, but Sirius just rolled his eyes as an answer. And that was when James noticed the dark bags under Sirius' eyes. "Wow, mate. When was the last time you slept?" Prongs asked and even chuckled a bit, but stopped at the second he saw that Sirius wasn't laughing with him. And by Black's guilty facial expression, he knew pretty well the answer to his question. "Wait, you're telling me you haven't slept since the fight you had with [y/n]?"

"Of course, James! I'm in love with her, how do you want to sleep knowing that I was the one who caused her pain?" Padfoot said a little bit louder, which made James shush him and sight.

"But it's been a week." Potter whispered to his best friend and letting pass the first time that Sirius told him that he loved anyone, with a face full of concern and sympathy.

"So what?"

"You have to talk to her, mate." James just shook his head while giving his advice to Sirius. But both of them knew that that was the thought that was haunting him by the past days.

"No, I don't." Sirius answered and Prongs felt like he could kill his best friend right now (but if he did it, Sirius would never talk to her). "And she doesn't want to talk to me, anyway." Pads finished and it was James' time to roll his eyes by the childish of Black.

"But you love her!" James said louder than he should and looked around to see if any professors or prefects were around to catch the two of them out of bed at this time. But as Sirius opened his mouth to fight with him about it, Potter didn't lose even a second to interrupt any bullshit that was going to come out of Black's mouth. "And don't even try to deny it, because you just said it."

Padfoot sighed, defeated and said the first thing that came on his mind. "But that's why I'm struggling!" His head was starting to hurt by the intense argument and he knew what was coming next. Sirius knew James was right about everything.

"So talk to her! You won't struggle anymore."

-

James' words have been passing around Sirius mind since the day he first said them, three days ago.

'So talk to her! You won't struggle anymore.'

Black has been wanting to talk to you since then, but he doesn't seem to be able to create the courage to go and talk to you. And he couldn't feel more stupid. He's the unique one from the hole Black family to be sorted into Gryffindor, and the Sorting Hat doesn't make mistakes, does it?

Well, he would have time to think about it at detention.

Sirius opened the door, seeing an empty Transfiguration classroom 'perfect, more time alone with my fucking stupid thoughts' and saw Professor McGonagall writing something in a few papers while sitting at her desk. "Hey, Minnie." Sirius said and the professor looked at him with a hard glare by the nickname.

"Hello, Mr Black." She said and pointed at one of the tables, silently saying to Sirius sit. "We'll just wait a second until the other student gets here, so I'll tell you both what to do." Sirius frowned his eyebrows with her sentence.

"There's someone else coming today? Who would it be, Minnie?" He asked and by the look she gave him, Sirius knew that she wouldn't tell him who it was. "Well, what they did to have to pleasure to spend two hours with me?" The professor just looked at the door, probably thinking that it would make the lucky person walk through it, but it didn't actually happen.

"She shouldn't have stayed until too late studying at the library." That was that Minerva said and her gaze still didn't flinch from the door. As Sirius was looking at the professor, he got too lost on the thoughts of how she could wear the same clothes every day - like, does she has a lot of clothes that look the same, or does she wash the same cloth every day and wear those at the next day? - that he just noticed that the door had opened and the person had walked in already when McGonagall moved. "You're finally here, Mrs. [y/l/n]."

Wait-

"I'm so sorry, Minnie. A first-year stopped me on the way here, he was lost and needed help to find our common room, but it's kinda far from here..." Your soft voice echoed through the almost empty classroom. They were pretty sure that you would start to babble about the reason you were late, but when the professor pointed to the chair next to Sirius, you stopped to talk. Maybe it was because you knew that explaining yourself wouldn't be something really important for McGonagall, or it was because you noticed Sirius.

His eyelids were swollen, with dark and deep bags under his eyes, his hair messier then the usual, a paler look on his face, but he was still so handsome. 

A knot formed at your throat with the sight of him so close to you - because those days you were avoiding him, but you still noticed him from afar - and you gulped it while taking deep breaths. You were refusing yourself to cry alone at your dorm, you wouldn't cry or show any weakness near to anyone else that could notice and comment about it. You sat at the chair beside Sirius, but your eyes didn't flinch to any single part of him.

"So, you two stay here, I have more things to take care of, and I'll be right back." Minerva said and started to walk out of the class. Sirius looked at you and your confused expression (was so cute) matched with his, but before the professor went out of the classroom, she looked behind and saw the two of you looking at her. "Just do a few essays, I don't know. Just don't make anything that could give you more detentions." And then she left. But not before locking the door behind her.

"Great." You whispered with your voice full of sarcasm and you hoped that Sirius haven't heard you. 

"[y/n]." Sirius called your name and looked at you, that was taking your things out of your backpack. He wasn't surprised that you would finish the essays you weren't able to finish the day before, but you were surprised with the way your name rolled easily against his tongue and lips. You even had to think about something else so your body wouldn't get shivers all around it. "Can we talk?" He asked and you continued to ignore him. But Sirius doesn't give up easily. "I really need to talk to you, sunshine." Sirius tried to grab your attention again with the nickname he used to call you before all of the chaos that you created.

"Detention is not to talk, Sirius." You whispered and he just huffed at your words, he knew you were going to say some bullshit to try to not talk to him about whatever you were feeling, but he really needed to have this conversation with you, even if he was the only one talking and you listening. "We're supposed to do essays or whatever, but not to talk." Your sassy tone was better than Sirius had ever seen it and if it wasn't for him in another situation, he would be so proud of you learning all he taught you over the years being friends. "If you want to talk, look me at any other place at school, I don't care."

"That's the point! I can't find you anywhere." Sirius was starting to get mad at the way you weren't listening to him or even caring about what he wanted/needed to say to you. "And I'm gonna talk, even if you don't say anything" He said and got up from his chair, that fell back with the abruptly that Sirius got out of it and did a horrible noise at the before quiet classroom, but his harsh movements grabbed your attention and you finally looked at him. "Can't you see that I feel the same way about you?" He said loudly and it almost looked like the whole air was taken away from your lungs.

But you needed to be sure about what feelings he was talking about, you couldn't just act because of a sentence that could have multiple ways to be understood, but you just wanted one of them. "You don't even know how I feel, how can you feel the same?"

"So, tell me." Sirius said softly and stared hard at your eyes, you even though he could see your hole soul from the stare he was giving you and your body trembled under his gaze. "Tell me how you feel."

You don't even know why, how, when or anything, but you just got up and stared back at him, with angry tears starting to blur your vision - sometimes you just wanted to end the way you were so sensible, even about little arguments like this one. "You wanna know how I feel?" You asked at him, with a frowned forehead and closed hands to try to control yourself and not cry in front of him again. "Well, I fell for you." Your voice wasn't on the way you had dreamed that it would be while saying those exact words to Sirius, but you found out you don't have any control over the future so, what can you do? "I fell so hard, that I didn't know who I was anymore. All I cared was about you and the way I could make you happy if we were together. But we never were." Your voice started harsh but it was becoming softer with the seconds you talked. "And it broke me."

"We were never just friends and you know it." Sirius said you felt your heart ache. You knew his words were true, he knew his words were true, your friends knew his words were true, fuck, the hole Hogwarts knew his words were true, and that's what hurt the most. Because even if you were never just friends, whatever the two of you were, never passed from it. You were friends, always.

"I know it, but it was always like this, and neither way you deserve someone better than me." Your voice becomes just a little whisper that no one would be able to hear if it wasn't for the empty class. But Sirius ignored your words and walked to you before you could think of anything else or try to walk away from him, his hands were holding your hips and you couldn't move away from his chest pressed against yours (even if you actually wanted to).

"So, enlighten me." Sirius whispered and his breathe was hitting against your face, with his lips brushing against yours while he talked. "Who better than the love of my life?" His smirk was so big, but you couldn't focus on his beautiful teeth, all you were looking at was his grey eyes. Sirius got afraid that you would walk away from him or break his heart as he had broken yours, but he knew you were going anywhere when you smiled at him, giggling at his words.

Your hands went to the back of his neck and brought his face closer to yours, selling your lips in the most passionate kiss you had ever thought and Sirius could just dream of. You didn't need words to show for each other how you were happy in the arms of each other. It was even being hard to kiss with the smile that fought to appear on your face - by being finally able to run your hands through his soft hair - and on his - by holding your body so close to him that all the times he needed someone to hold him like this, were filled.

Neither of you knew how long you were kissing but you were becoming exhausted with your lungs screaming for you to stop, but you didn't want to, so you just broke the kiss. You were both breathing heavily, but your arms, legs, hands or anything else moved. You and Sirius stayed like this, with your foreheads together, your hands lost on his hair and his arms around your waist, just feeling each other this close, for a while. But you didn't care.

You finally had him. You could call him, yours and he could call you, his.

☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎

+ bonus:

McGonagall, James, Remus, Peter, Lily, Alice and Marlene were watching by the magic mug that Minerva left at the classroom, so they could see what was happening.

"Are they going to kiss?" James asked, for what felt like the millionth time, when Sirius got closer to [y/n] and everyone shushed him, seeing Sirius walk forward and kiss you.

They all cheered seeing them kissing and when they got apart smiling, they all knew the plan had worked. Marlene was even crying for her friend that finally told Padfoot about her feelings and James couldn't stop smiling while looking at his friends happier than ever together.

"I can't believe your plan worked, Minnie." Lily said and everyone nodded at the professor, that was smiling just like them.

"As I already told you, I'm pretty good at getting couples together..." Minerva said and winked at the students that laughed at her and looked at their friends again through the magic spot on the Black Lake that gave them a perfect vision of what was happening on the classroom.

They were so proud that their friends and students we together and happy.

☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾

Taglist:

@cheapglitter​ @weasleysmuch @missmulti​ @writtenbypics @littlemaladaptivedaydreamer​ @dralf0yy​ @buff-bork @rd155 @seppys-return-to-madness​ @luciferedits​ @old-soul-young-mind​ @pxtrickhxckstettxr @sleep-i-ness​ @marauderswhisperer​ @liberty01 @gweaslvy​ @weasleytwins-41 @siriuslysirius07 @turtlepad​ @ilovewinter101​ @monimillion​ @simonsbluee​ @smokey102​ @yourlevanter​ @aberette13​ @yourbloodyqueen​ @loverboyreid​ @eeshea @susceptible-but-siriusexual​

[dudeandduchess]

Kyoujurou angst hurts so good imma cry about it forever 😩❤️❤️ my fire best boy deserves the world!!!(+to live) 🔥❤️ Can you write him with a s/o that ends up saving him from near death (w/ insert budding doctor skills) and as she continues to check on him everytimes he’s conscious he’s either trying too woo her or asking someone else about the guardian angel he wants to marry

Oooh yes, bby! Only certified masochists for Kyō can endure such pain and pleasure. Lol. I actually laughed aloud at the “+to live” part. Yes he does deserve to live. Like oof. I hope you like this one. :D If you have more requests, please feel free to send them in. :D xx

Warning: This has mild manga spoilers. Very mild. Like veryyyy mild.

***

Kyōjurō with a Reader Who Saves Him from Death (SFW Scenario):

Rengoku was prepared for death. In fact, he was welcoming it with open arms.

The memories kept playing in his mind, as he felt the life slowly draining out of him. There was simply no surviving his injuries.

But what a heroic way to go; protecting the lives of so many people. All two hundred lives spared for the price of one? He thought that that was a fair trade off.

So, he waited. And waited.

But death simply wouldn’t come.

“He’s still alive! Hand me my medical kit,” An angelic voice bellowed close to him, just as he felt nimble fingers against his face. “Hurry!”

Kyōjurō opened his good eye, only to catch a glimpse of the goddess hovering over him. He wanted to see more of her, but the rays of the morning sun were too bright for him. So he had no choice but to close his eye again.

Voices swarmed around him, he could count as many as ten people gathered around him. All while the goddess tended to him.

He could feel her hands moving over his body, as well as a stinging pain that didn’t have anything to do with the massive hole in his chest.

The goddess even said words that made sense by themselves, but didn’t when they were strung together. His pneumothorax needed a chest seal?

What in the world was a chest seal?

“Hey, hey,” The goddess was talking to him. So he opened his eyes the tiniest sliver, and offered her a weak grin.

“You’re very pretty.”

He could see the blush that tinted her cheeks, and the thought that he could make such a beautiful woman get so flustered took his mind off of the throbbing pain he felt.

But with a shake of her head, she put her professional mask back in place. “Whatever you were doing before… with your breathing, do it again while I seal your wound.”

Kyōjurō didn’t have much energy left in him, but if the pretty goddess wanted it, then he would grant her request.

***

“How is he?” (Y/n) asked one of her assistants, as she made her way inside the room she’d provided for the man she’d saved days ago.

Judging by his uniform alone, she immediately pinned him as another Slayer. The very sight of the special garb brought back tons of memories for her; ones that she still held close, as they were of her brother— who used to be among the Demon Slayers’ ranks.

She’d also taken in the three boys that were with the enigmatic man that day, and it didn’t take long for them to confirm her suspicions: they really were part of the organization that her older brother had devoted his life to.

“He’s been asking for you, (Y/n)-sama; ‘the goddess that saved me’, he’d said earlier.” Mizuki, her long-time assistant answered with a quiet laugh, as the physician-in-training’s cheeks warmed with a blush.

“He also said that you’re the woman he’s going to marry.” Mizuki added with another giggle. “Isn’t that adorable? You’ve already found your husband, with no effort at all.”

(Y/n)’s gaze flickered over to the man still asleep in the bed, before immediately darting away— as butterflies fluttered inside her stomach.

“Just give him some water when he wakes up. No tea or anything else with caffeine at the moment. And please get him to take the medicine I gave him.” With that, (Y/n) turned around on her heel and exited the room in a hurry.

She couldn’t deny that the man— named Rengoku Kyōjuro, according to the trio with him— was handsome. But she wasn’t one to fall for mere good looks and flowery words.

No, she really wasn’t.

Besides, falling for a Slayer was the last thing that she wanted to do.

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. Because for the past few weeks that Rengoku was in her care, she’d discovered so many things about him; and she found that she liked the charismatic man more than she led everyone to believe.

He would continuously flirt with her while she tended to his bandages and, in the inevitable cases where she wasn’t around, he kept asking (Y/n)’s assistants where ‘the woman he was going to marry’ was at.

It made for embarrassing conversations between (Y/n) and her nurses, but the young physician couldn’t deny that it made her heart flutter in excitement.

“(Y/n), you know you’re really amazing?” Kyōjurō began with a chuckle, as the aforementioned woman changed the bandages around his chest.

She briefly looked up at him, before turning her attention back to her task. She could have forked the task off to someone else, but she always found herself doing it— just so she could spend time with the Flame Hashira. “Why?”

“Because you’ve filled the gaping hole inside my chest.” The young man laughed, only to wince as his wound throbbed in pain.

In turn, a blush colored (Y/n)’s cheeks, while she tried to hide the evidence that blatantly told how flustered Rengoku could make her. “W-whatever.”

“Okay, not that one, huh?” Rengoku hummed in thought, before pinching his intended wife’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. He then tilted her face up to look at him, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sheer beauty that graced his good eye. “When will you say yes to becoming my wife? You know I’ve always had my eye on you.”

Kyōjurō laughed, then winced once more as his wound got agitated. But his laughter died down when he saw the seriousness reflected in (Y/n)’s eyes.

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, as she mulled her words over inside her head. She harbored feelings for the man in front of her, but her hesitance stemmed from her own insecurity about his mortality.

He’d almost died once; and if he went out there again, then she could actually lose him. Just like she had lost her brother. “What if I say yes now?”

“Then you’d make me the happiest man in the world.”

“What if… what if I asked you to never leave me? Just stay here with me, and forget about going on missions? What if I want you to retire from your post?” Her words were light in their cadence, but their meaning weighed heavily on Kyōjurō’s heart.

He didn’t want to retire so early from being a Hashira, but he wasn’t deluded. So, with a gentle smile, he answered, “I’m not dumb, (Y/n). I know that I can never go back to being a Slayer in my condition. But… even if I were in top shape, I would leave that life behind just to be with you.”

(Y/n) opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off when Kyōjurō continued, “Granted, of course, that I can still train future Slayers. So, will you marry me?”

Those enigmatic eyes of his bore deeply into (Y/n)’s own, and the young woman found herself nodding as tears blurred her vision. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”

With a wide grin playing at his lips, Kyōjurō then leaned forward and claimed the first of his future wife’s sweet kisses.

[thiswasinevitableid]

82, Sternclay, NSFW if possible? Ty so much for all your great fics <3 -☀️

You’re welcome! I hope you enjoy the fill. It’s NSFW, and involves mating cycles, because my A03 stats suggest a lot of y’all like that.

82. you knock on my door at 2 in the morning because your very white cat got out and you need help trying to find them in the three feet of snow we have

He has no one but himself to blame. 

Stern is always so careful about shutting the doors in this cabin, as the old hinges and worn frames can send them swinging open when coupled with a strong wind. He thought he had that same care when he came in with more firewood from the basement, which can only be accessed through by going out of the house and then down to the locked door. 

Apparently not. At one, he went to check on Yeti and found the back door open and the faintest shape of feline paws leading into the darkness. 

They’ve got two feet of snow on the ground, with another foot forecasted to fall by morning. And Yeti is sleek and snow-white.

He’s wandered the perimeter of the house, left her favorite blanket out on the covered porch, and tried in vain to follow the tracks, filled in by the falling snow. He’s been outside for an hour now, with no sign of her. Not even the jingle of her collar in the cold air. He’s shivering, but he can’t stop the search; Yeti is out here, cold and scared and it’s all his fault. 

As he’s crunching through the snow, warm light spills onto the trees. His neighbors  (a loose term out here) house. He couldn’t stand waking Barclay up to help him, but if he’s already awake…

Stern raps on the door, and four seconds later it opens, his neighbor looking like a lumberjack centerfold given life, even in his sweatpants and brown sweater. 

“Joe? Is something wrong?”

“It’s Yeti, she got out without me noticing and I can’t find her, I’ve been out here an hour and there’s no sign. I, um, I know it’s a stretch but can you help me look for her? We can cover more ground that way.”

Barclay gives a small, worried smile as he nods, “Yeah, of course, lemme get enough on so that I don’t freeze and I’ll join you.” 

He waves Stern inside, passes him a box of tissues before disappearing upstairs. Here he’d hoped the tears from his brief panic and self-blame spiral hadn’t left evidence. He’s good in a crisis, has handled much more stressful incidents with grace and calm. But for some reason every time he musters up those emotions, gult rips them to shreds. Yeti is his to look after, he’s supposed to keep her safe, and one careless move has her out in the woods, in freezing weather, with predators, or thin ice, or, or, or-

His brain is excellent at generating contingency plans on the fly, but tonight it directs that ability to making him think about all the bad things his error could cause. 

“Okay, got my headlamp so I can keep my hands free. You got a light?”

Joe holds up his flashlight.

“C’mon, let’s go find the Yeti.” They set off side by side in the snow, “where do you want to look?”

“Fan out near the creek, I think. The snow isn’t as deep there, so she might have gone that way because it was easier to move.”

“She’s a climber, right? So how about this; we go on either side of the creek, you look on the ground and I’ll look in the trees?”

“That makes sense.” 

It’s slow going, both of them being meticulous, shining their lights on every branch or under every bush. Stern’s always appreciated how careful Barclay is; he assumes it comes with a profession where being messy slows you down, but the first time he saw his well-organized kitchen his heart did a little dance of delight. 

In the month and a half he’s lived here, the cook invites him over at least twice a week to try out a recipe. He works at Amnesty Lodge in the nearby town of Kepler, and spends some of his nights there. Still, he’s at his cabin often enough that Stern’s been able to invite him over some evenings. Though it’s odd he’s up so late on a work night.

“Do you not have to go in tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m taking this week off. I have some vacation time and when I get back it’ll be the holiday break rush until New Years. I got caught up in the latest Agent X novel and didn’t see how late it was until you knocked. How about you, staying up researching again?”

“Yes. I was trying to keep the fire going because it’s nice to work in that little living room but, um, going out to get the wood is how she got out. If I’d just gone to bed-”

“Whoah, hey, none of that.” Barclay stops, turning to face him, “shit happens, even when you’re careful. This isn’t your fault, Joe.”

“I know. It still feels that way.” He starts forward again, feet freezing in spite of his snowboots (chosen for optimal weight to insulation ratio). Part of him wants to keep talking, because Barclay is interesting to talk to, his years playing “Lodge dad” giving him endless anecdotes and the ability to be honest without being cruel. 

It helps that his baritone voice makes Stern think of brown sugar; rich, complex, just the right kind of sweet. 

After a solid hour of searching, Stern is so cold he’s having trouble getting words out. Barclay sets a big hand on his shoulder, guiding them towards Sterns cabin.

“Joe, you’ve gotta take a break. Worried your lips are gonna go as blue as your eyes, and then tonight will really suck.”

“But I haven’t found her.”

“And you won’t if you freeze to death or get so chilled you can’t think straight. At least sleep for a few hours.”

Stern’s about to protest as they reach the door, but then his knees buckle and he slumps against a broad chest.

“I’ll do one more spin into the deeper woods on my way home, and leave some blankets out on the porch in case she makes her way to me. She’s smart, just like her owner; I think she’ll get home okay.”

“Right. Okay. We’ll be okay.” 

Barclay hesitates mid motion, then pulls Stern into a hug. Stern is not small, and at Six feet zero inches he’s used to being the tallest person in a room. Barclay always feels like he’s dwarfing him, though right now that’s the most comforting sensation in the world. 

“I’ll check by in the morning.”

“Thank you, for everything.” He mumbles into Barclay’s scarf.

“Any time, Joe.”

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

Barclay waits until Joe is inside and the upstairs light switches on to leave the back porch. God, it’s so fucking cold tonight. He doesn’t blame Yeti for getting curious, but she could’ve picked a less awful time to do it.

He’s glad the other man came to him for help; he hates the idea of Joe out here alone and stressed, searching carefully and kicking himself the whole time. He’s glad Joe took the suggestion to sleep. 

He’s glad the other man came to be his neighbor. 

Ironically, they’d met when Joe came over and asked to borrow a cup of sugar. The dark-haired man was short on what he needed to cook, and Barclay was happy to supply it. It’s not everyday a cute guy asked him for some sugar. 

They ran across each other in town, and Joe even came to eat at the Lodge, usually at off hours where Barclay had a chance to talk. That’s how he learned Joe was here to research a recent Bigfoot sighting. 

“I used to be in the FBI, investigating the same thing. Then I got so frustrated, no one really believed in the possibility of unknown creatures, and the few who did saw them as having some sort of use to the department of defense. Great idea, find something so rare it’s existence is unproven, and then lock it away or blow it up.” The sip of coffee is more aggressive than usual. 

“Won’t they get mad if you spill their secrets?” It was only half a joke. 

“I doubt it. They weren’t too interested in my theories when I worked there; odds are they’ll keep an eye on me a little while and then ignore me. Unless I find Bigfoot, of course, in which case they may want me back. I’m not interested, from now on I monster hunt in the name of science.”

Barclay hopes Stern never finds Bigfoot and stays in his cabin, writing and researching and consulting and coming over to Barclay’s for dinner twice a week. He has a whole menu in his mind titled, “foods for seducing Joe” that he’s going to whip out in the next few weeks, he swears it. 

He’s been swearing it for two weeks. 

Joe is sophisticated, smart, has really good taste in books and food, and Barclay feels so listened to when they talk. Barclay starts blushing whenever Joe smiles at him, which would be embarrassing except Joe does the same thing whenever Barclay drops his voice a little. Besides, he likes it when Joe smiles. 

Barclay would give anything to make Joe smile tonight. Which is why he’s tromping into the spot where they lost the last of Yeti’s footprints. He stands, listening for any sign of human life. 

Then he slips the woven bracelet off his hand, and his foot-prints almost double in size. 

It’s a bad idea, he’s not all that far from other houses or the road, but in this form his sense of smell is twice as strong and his night-vision a bit sharper. It’s also the reason he’s taking this week off work. Yes, he likes to rest up before the winter rush; but his heat, which comes ever fourteen years, is due in the next few days. He’s actually a little worried turning into his Sylph self will make his brain fuzzy enough to forget his mission. So he reminds himself, as he tromps through the growing blizzard, that he is doing this for the person he’d most like to impress in this world, and that does the trick. 

A whiff of the same, non-human scent he stole a noseful of when hugging Joe catches his attention. He follows it to a disused burrow, gets down on his belly, and finds reflective eyes blinking back at him. 

The animal hisses. 

“Man, please be Yeti and not a bobcat. Duck’s gonna fucking kill me if I harass the wildlife.” He reaches into the burrow and hears a telltale jingle. Yeti, surrendering to her fate, goes limp in his hold. When he puts her against his chest she chirps, curiously sniffing him. As soon as the bracelet is on she blinks once, then purrs as he bundles her into his coat. She’s cold and damp, but she’s in one piece. 

“C’mon cousin, let’s get you home.”

The lights are all still one, and the front door is wedged open the exact amount a cat would need to get inside. He steps in, kicks the wedge free and shuts the door. The fire is low, and there’s no sound of anyone moving around. 

“Joe? Whoa, careful Yeti, I know you wanna get warm but we should show him your okay.”

“Mew!” Yeti bites the fringe of his scarf. 

He tries again, “Joe, you still up? Got someone for you?”

A scuff and groan from the kitchen, “Huh? Oh, shit, I fell asleep, one second”

Yeti shifts her focus while Barclay is distracted. In one graceful leap she rips his bracelet away, lands, and bounds to the kitchen.

“Yeti! Thank the lord, there you are my little cryptid, I was so worried about you, don’t ever do that again, thank god you’re okay.” Joe’s voice goes muffled, as if he’s holding the cat to his face and talking into her fur. Barclay is frozen, not wanting to be seen but even less wanting to have Joe spot Bigfoot dashing into the trees. 

“What do you have--Yeti, it’s rude to take things from the man who saved you from being-” Joe rounds the corner, cat in his arms, and gasps. Yeti, uninterested in the unfolding drama, tumps to the floor and scampers upstairs. Joe’s hands fly over his mouth the instant she’s no longer in them. 

“Hey” Barclay waves.

“What the fuck?”

“I’m, uh, I’m Bigfoot.”

“What the fuck?” Joe isn’t moving, and Barclay decides now is his best chance. 

“I’m just, uh, gonna go get my bracelet back.”

“No, you’re going to explain everything.” 

“I really, really can’t, some of it isn’t mine to explain. I mean, uh, I can explain some bits later-” He creeps toward the stairs. Joe steps in front of him. 

“Barclay, this can’t wait. You, you’ve been him the whole time, my entire world view is simultaneously being proven and flipped over, would you please just talk to me?”

“Mew?” Yeti is halfway down the stairs, watching them with the bracelet still in her mouth. Without breaking eye contact, Joe reaches up and out, plucking it from her teeth.

“You’re not getting this back until you explain.”

“Babe, please, I promise we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“No, wait, what did you call me?”

“Uhhhh” Barclay lunges for the bracelet instead of answering. Stern twists out of the way, sprinting for the kitchen. Barclay gets an arm around his waist and yanks backwards, sending them both over the back of the couch. Joe elbows him and scrambles up. Barclay only just manages to block him from going up the stairs, stalks him back onto the rug and tackles him. It succeeds in bringing the man down and keeping him pinned. 

It also sends the bracelet flying onto the floor, where Yeti snatches it up and disappears up the staircase. 

Barclay realizes he’s growling, stops so that he won’t frighten Joe, only for it to start up again as a reflex.

“Barclay, I swear, if you hurt my cat-”

“I won’t, I, that’s what not that noise is for. Or, uh, I mean I’m pissed you played keep-away with something I need, but I also have some bad news about Sy--uh, Bigfoot biology. Uh, so, first thing: I have a heat, which is why I was trying to stay away from people. Second thing: my kind uses a very intense game of, uh, chase as part of courtship.”

Stern shifts his thigh, “That explains what I’m feeling.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Look, can you go get the bracelet and then we can, like, have some tea and talk about this? I’m sorry, I feel so bad for making you deal with this.” The growl rumbles up again. He gears up another apology when he notices Joe’s blue eyes getting wider.

“Is this, um, only because of your heat? I mean, if you tackled some passerby, would the same thing be happening?”

“No.” Barclay squeaks. 

“Then I’m not seeing how this is a bad thing, big guy.” He grinds his thigh up, making Barclay yip and pin him to the rug while touching as little of him as possible. 

“Joe, this doesn’t make me like, mindless or anything, but if you say you want this you are signing up for several days of as much fucking as I can manage.”

“I don’t have any deadlines.” Joe’s eyes remain fixed on Barclays crotch. 

“I’m serious, if you say stop I will, but if you don’t you won’t be able to get out of bed for days. And, uh, I can put my disguise back on, you don’t have to fuck me like this, I know it’s weird.”

“Barclay, I built my life’s work on weird.” Joe pets his arm.

“Yeah but not on fucking it.”

“How do you know? Lots of my time with the UP is classified.”

“Joe…” it’s a warning, the heat in  his brain suggesting a dozen things to do so the human can’t be touched by another cryptid ever again.

“I want you, Barclay. In both forms. As long as you promise we’ll talk after, I’m okay with doing this first.”

“I promise”

“Good, because otherwise I was going out to see if there’s another bigfoot in the area who was interested.” Joe smiles, moves to pull off his shirt. He doesn’t get to; Barclay snarls possessively and drops onto him, biting his neck and ripping his clothing into a flurry of fabric scraps. The human moans, gasps when Barclay makes short work of his own pants and reveals what’s waiting beneath. Barclay doesn’t give him time to process, shoves his legs as far apart as they’ll go, and finally sinks into him.

“JesusfuckingCHRIST, ohfuck, ohmyfuckinggodAH!”

His cock is more thick than long, splitting the human open while bottoming out on every thrust. Joe’s fingers knot into the rug, his words morph into sharp, ecstatic sounds. Every creature in the forest can probably hear him. 

Barclay clamps his hand down over the humans mouth, “shut up babe, don’t want anyone else in the woods getting any ideas about how good a fuck you are. You’re fucking mine.”

A muffled moan and, when he pulls his hand back, “Y-you really think I, fuck, I can keep quiet when you fuck me like this?”

“Thought they taught FBI agents discipline” he drags his claws across Joe’s chest, relishing the shaky, happy noise that gets him. 

“There’s discipline and, AAHnnn, there’s inhuman restraint.”

Barclay slams the hand down again and growls, pleased, when Joe’s posture turns submissive.

“Here’s the deal; you keep quiet and take it like a good mate, and after I cum in you, can be as loud as you fucking want, because anyone who gets near you’ll know belong to me. I mean” he jerks his hips, “they’ll be able to tell that from the fact I’m balls-deep in you too, babe.”

Joe nods, replaces Barclays hand with his own as the Sylph hooks his knees over his shoulders. The next minute goes in a heat haze, his brain and body united in the desire to cum in Joe, to claim him,  while the human stifles his screams and grows slicker with each thrust. 

He tips his head back with a howlgrowlpurr as he cums, leaving faint clawmarks in Joe’s legs as he holds them open to make sure he takes every bit.

“Lord almighty” Joe’s hand falls to the floor, “that, that was amazing, why on earth were you acting like this isn’t something I’d waaAAAAAntohgod.” He whimpers as Barclay starts up again, fucking his cum up into him.

“Shoulda known you’d like it; you’re perfect, Joe.”

A blush and a shy moan, and he leans down to kiss him gently.

“You are. You’re the perfect man, the perfect mate, and we are gonna have so much fucking fun together.”

“And fun fucking?” He looks pleased with the wordplay.

He snorts, “Glad to know that sense of humor sticks around when I’m filling you up, oh, ohfuckyeah” another orgasm hits, milder this time. 

“Are they near constant when you’re in heat?” Joe eyes the trail of cum sliding back down Barclay’s cock.

“No, just easy to have. So” he flips the human over, squeezing his ass appreciatively, “let’s try it from  behind this time; wanna find out how it feels to cum in you while I get you off.” He slips his hand over Joe’s thigh and between his legs, “and you better fucking do it too, of I’ll drag you outside and fuck you against a tree so anyone passing by can see how fucking eager you are for me.”

“Please, we’ve spent so much time outside tonight.”

He thinks as kisses along Joe’s shoulders, “You’re right. I’ll fuck you against the door instead.”

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

When Stern wakes up, snow is falling in the grey light and his clock reads 2:30 P.M. Downstairs there’s a homey clink of pots and pans, and the smell of coffee winds it’s way to him. 

He fell asleep around five, he thinks, when the cumulative exhaustion of his day overpowered the thrill of being with Barclay. Honestly, he’d have kept going, but Barclay was adamant he rest. So they finished with him fucking Stern’s slack, sleepy mouth, before the cryptid bundled him into bed and snuggled up to him with those deep, rumbling purrs that Stern now loves.

The bracelet is gone from the nightstand (Yeti didn’t eat it, thank god), so the chef must be making breakfast in his human form. Now would be a good time to go down and talk. 

“Mew” A weight lands on his chest as Yeti kneads the blankets, purring when he reaches you and rubs her head.

“You know, little monster, this almost makes the heart attack you gave me worth it.”

“Mew?” The cat stares hopefully out the windows. 

“Not a chance. I can’t take that stress again. Besides” he scoops her up, “we need to unbox that new toy I ordered. Barclay and I need some time to ourselves today.”

[sylvanfreckles]

Don’t Look (FebuWhump 23)

Fandom: Supernatural Summary: Sam and Dean are ambushed and captured by a powerful demon with an ancient lineage. Help is on the way...if they can survive.

(CW for some body horror/sores. Basically, skip if something like rashes and sores would upset you. It’s not terribly graphic, but I know this can be a real phobia for some people).

* * *

“This is obviously a trap, Dean!”

Dean rolled his eyes and sandwiched his phone between his head and shoulder, flapping his fingers at Sam in the universal “won't stop talking” gesture. Sam didn't look impressed.

“Look, man, it's just a bunch of demons,” Dean replied. He checked the clip in his gun, tucked a couple spares into his belt, and reached for an angel blade. “Don't see what has you so worked up.”

“Will you please just wait for me?” Cas's voice was strained, and Dean could practically see the impatience in every line of the angel's face. “I'm less than two hours away.”

“Are you talking while driving?” Dean smirked at Sam, though Sam just shook his head and started double-checking his own gear. “Always the little rebel, ain't ya?”

He waited while Cas spluttered in outrage. “We'll be done before you even get here,” he said, talking right over whatever point Cas was about to make. “And, hey, they've got a drive-in movie theater in this town. We can make a field trip, I think they're playing one of the new Star Wars movies.”

Cas was still talking when Dean hung up the call. He shoved the phone into his pocket with a chuckle, then caught Sam staring at him. “What?”

Sam shook his head again and shoved the trunk of the car closed. “Would it kill you to wait for him anyway?”

“And miss all the fun?” Dean slapped his brother on the arm. “Dude. It's demons. Practically kindergarten stuff for us.” Anyway all the big players were downstairs—or dead—so it wasn't like they had anything to worry about.

His brother was still bitch-facing about it when Dean shoved him down the path toward the abandoned hotel. “All right, I'll buy him a root beer float or something, and he'll get over it by the time that little rolling droid he loves so much shows up on screen.”

“BB-8?”

“Dude, I'm getting second-hand embarrassment just knowing you know that.”

Sam turned around and spread his arms out, walking backward down the path. “At least I don't know all the Starfleet captains by first name.”

“Hey, Star Trek is an important part of our cultural history,” Dean retorted, shoving his brother in the chest to keep him moving. “Star Wars is for nerds.”

* * *

The old hotel was empty, apart from the faint dusty of sulfur on some of the decrepit furniture. There were some tracks in the dust, which was a little weird for a bunch of demons, Dean had to admit, but the tracks were recent enough to prove there was demonic activity here.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Dean pulled it out and made a face at it, swiping over the icon to ignore the call.

“Dude, he's probably worried,” Sam whispered.

“Yeah, he does that,” Dean shot back. He turned his phone off and shoved it back into his pocket. “He does that too damn much. We can handle one little nest of demons.”

Predictably...at least for Cas and Sam...and Dean, too, though he was loathed to admit it...they could not handle the “little” nest of demons.

The tracks lead them down to the old pool house, but before they'd even crossed the yard they'd been swarmed. The brothers had fought valiantly, back-to-back, and taken out a handful of the attacking demons but there were just too many. They were overwhelmed, hauled into the pool house, and tied to a couple of rusty old poolside chairs.

Dean jerked against his bonds—he could probably work himself free, given enough time. One side of his face had swollen up and his lip was busted up. Sam wasn't much better off, between the gash on his forehead bleeding enough to cover most of his face and the obvious dislocation to his left shoulder.

Well. Now he was gonna have to apologize to Cas for going in without him AND for getting himself and his brother captured. And injured. It would have to be a root beer float and popcorn and downloading the rest of the Star Wars movies for the weekend.

The demons were lined up along the sides of the pool now. They'd put Sam and Dean on the side nearest the shallow end, looking down the length of murky, stagnant water. Dean exchanged a look with his brother—what now? They'd been captured and beat up and tied up for, what, the world's worst diving contest?

The water rippled. Dean stared down at it in shock when a woman's head appeared at the deep end of the pool. But she wasn't swimming, she was...walking? And each step brought her further and further out of the water, the algae and slime cascading off of her body without leaving a trace behind. She was tall, with long, wavy blonde hair that fell almost to her hips. Her body was wrapped in a flowing green dress with a plunging neckline that showed off her...er, other features.

And she was walking on the water now. Because of course. Dean rolled his eyes so hard he almost sprained something. While there was something otherwordly about this whole thing, it was so obviously some demon princess bitch pretending to be a minor goddess or something.

She reached the shallow end of the pool and just stood there, looking at them. Dean glanced down at her bare feet, which were resting on the rippling water as easily as though she was standing on solid ground. “Nice trick,” he commented, smirking up at her. “Special power or just full of hot air?”

The demon in the green dress tilted her head to study him—nice try, bitch, that's Cas's thing—and blinked, her eyes clicking to beetle-black. “I am Vephar. Lord of the waters.”

“I'm Dean,” Dean replied, ignoring Sam's hissed warning. “Lord of the highway.”

Vephar studied for a moment, then raised one arm to point at his face. Pain erupted from his forehead to his chin and his brother called his name in a panicked voice. Vephar turned to face Sam next. “Who are you?”

Gritting his teeth, Dean rolled his head back enough to make eye contact with his brother. Sammy was shooting him a panicked look, obviously concerned by whatever the bitch had done. God, it still hurt. Most of the time when these bastards attacked telepathically it was like a cut from a razor, or a punch that somehow bypassed your muscle to hit you right in the organs. This was just...this was wrong. It ached and burned and felt wet somehow.

“I'm Sam,” his brother finally said, when Vephar took a step toward him. “Just Sam.”

“And why are you here, 'Just Sam'?”

Sam shot a look at Dean, who tried to shake his head subtly. “We were just looking around,” Sam finally stammered out. “The-the hotel. It's abandoned, we thought we could find something to sell in it. You know, the market for copper wire is pretty high right now.”

Vephar tilted her head to the other side. “No,” she intoned after a few seconds. “You're lying.” She raised her hand again and Sam jerked back with a cry of pain. Now Dean could see why his brother had looked so horrified. Instead of cutting or bruising, Vephar had raised an angry-looking line of oozing sores on his brother's face. It reminded him of nothing so much as Nick's face when Lucifer was burning through him...or Cas when he'd taken the souls from Purgatory.

“I was once a grand duke of hell,” Vephar explained, walking back down the length of the pool. “I commanded my legions and churned the mighty waters. I rode the seas in glorious battle, until I was betrayed and bound in this place.”

Dean grunted, tugging at the bonds on his wrists as the urge to dig his fingers into his face became nearly unbearable. “Sucks to be you.”

Vephar turned back to face him and raised one delicate eyebrow. “Indeed.”

Then she raised her hand and Dean threw his head back with a scream as another line of pain lanced up the other side of his face.

“What's binding you here?” Sam asked. “Maybe we can break it? Set you free?”

She tilted her head again, her black gaze boring into Sam's. “You're lying again.”

“Sammy, no!” Dean surged against the ropes uselessly as sores burst into existence around his brother's neck. “You bitch!”

“Temper,” Vephar replied calmly, and then the horrible, burning, wet pain was streaking down his chest under his shirt. Every shift in position made the fabric of his clothing rub against the sores, until it felt like he'd covered himself in sandpaper instead of a t-shirt.

“I don't get much to play with here,” the demon bitch said. She had that damn hand up in the air again, her index finger extended, and she waved it back and forth between the brothers as though trying to choose which one to torture. “I hope you last longer than the last ones.”

Dean was steeling himself to shout—distract the bitch, insult her, make her focus all her anger on him to give Sammy a chance to escape—when the door to the pool house exploded inward.

“Cas!” Sam's voice was thick with warning as the demons that had been lining the sides of the pool turned to swarm the angel. Dean grit his teeth and refocused his efforts on freeing himself. Cas was good—damn good—but there were well over a dozen demons, and heaven wasn't exactly running on full power these days.

He saw Cas go down. Dean threw himself backward with a jerk, finally crashing the chair into the stained tile of the pool deck. Something in the chair had cracked and his ropes were a little looser, and he fought to break himself free.

“Close your eyes!”

Dean swore and tucked his head toward his shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. Even then the burst of grace was almost enough to blind him. Damn, Cas hadn't done that in a long time. He hoped his friend still had the juice to recover from an attack like that.

Blinking back the sparks in his vision, Dean rolled onto his side and tried to push himself to his feet. He could see the smoking, empty meatsuits of the demons scattered in a half-circle around Cas, but Cas wasn't looking so good. He had sunk to one knee, and several bloody tears in his trench coat showed where the demons had gotten a few hits in before he'd smited them. Smote them. Whatever.

“Angel!”

Dean threw himself forward and tried to grab Vephar around the ankles as she stalked out of the water toward Cas. The smiting hadn't been enough to end her, though she seemed to be staggering a little and there was black sludge trickling out of her nose.

Cas struggled to his feet, but he was empty-handed—Dean could see a glint of silver just a few feet away, but Cas couldn't reach it before Vephar had a hand around his throat, backing him into the wall.

“I'm going to enjoy this,” the demon bitch sneered. “Angels are so much more...resilient...than humans. Don't you agree, 'lord of the highway'?”

Dean let out a cry as more pain tore through the side of his face. It felt like the sores were swelling, and his stomach nearly revolted when he felt liquid oozing down his neck.

“Hey! Bitch!”

Vephar whirled around, just in time to catch Sam's knife in her throat. Damn, but the kid had good aim. They'd been trying to copy Ruby's blade for years now, and while Sam had never come up with something to match it in power, the runes he'd started carving into the knife he tucked into his boot still did some damage.

The demon released Cas to tug uselessly at the knife in her throat. She glowered at Sam and started to raised her hand, but Cas tackled her from behind.

He'd gotten his angel blade back, during her moment of distraction, and drove it deep into her back, giving it a vicious twist as she screamed out her dying breath.

Dean collapsed in relief. It felt like the sores were still on his face, but the pain had faded significantly. It no longer felt like his skin was going to erupt and peel away from his bone—more like he had a bad case of road rash.

He rolled himself over to check on Sammy. The kid had only worked his right arm free and thrown his knife from there. He sagged in his ropes, panting for breath, but gave Dean a thumb's up when he realized his brother was looking.

Before he could roll back to check on Cas, a firm hand gripped him by the shoulder and rolled him onto his back. Dean found himself staring up at the angel's bruised, angry face. “Next time I tell you it's a trap,” Cas ground out, even as his fingers brushed feather-light over Dean's forehead to heal his wounds, “do me a favor and wait for me.”

Okay. Root beer float, popcorn, the rest of the Star Wars movies, AND another couple pairs of those novelty socks Cas liked so much. The angel had definitely earned it today.

* * *

You guessed it, Vephar is from the Key of Solomon. They’re described as being able to make the seas rough or calm, guiding ships to their destination, and killing by putrefying wounds and sores (fun!). They take the form of a mermaid, so I gave them a female meatsuit and the power to walk on water.

(For those of you who don’t know, the Key of Solomon is my favorite resource for extra-powerful demons. Vephar is the third I’ve used so far, so there’s just 69 to go!)

[wienerbarnes]

Left for Dead (2/2)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,991

Warnings: mentions to bombs and ships and stuff, baking 

A/N: yay pt 2 enjoy!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

“Her clothes came back with traces of bomb ingredients and she still has no memory of anything that happened to her or anything about this bomb.” Sam briefs the three of you.

It’s later in the day, now, about five in the evening when Sam gets word back from his agents.

“What if she was forced to make the bomb?” You find yourself offering.

Sam waits a moment while looking at you before he responds, “How sure are you that she didn’t do it?”

“Very.”

He sighs, “You were seeing German but my agents said she told them she doesn’t know a lick of any language other than English,”

“That she remembers.” Bucky interrupts.

“That she remembers. Sharon, I want you to look into German bomb manufacturers around here.”

Sharon nods and stands and makes her way out of the room. The three of you occupy a smaller conference room, about a third of the size of the one you were in this morning.

“I want to try again. With my visions. Maybe, with something from evidence.” You suggest.

“Are you sure?” Sam asks, more out of concern than of skepticism.

“Yes.” You reassure him. You haven't paid much attention to Bucky since Sam called you down just now, you find yourself getting a bit invested into the cases and wanting to solve it and figure out what happening, and you don’t want to let Bucky’s pretty face distract you. Such a pretty face it is.

You roll your eyes at that voice again. Being surrounded by so much information is kinda making your brain go haywire, you find. These voice haven’t bothered you since prison, only every once in a blue moon, but they’ve been non-fucking-stop since you’ve gotten on the case.

Makes for a good seat, too. “Shut up, would you?!” You yell, quickly realizing that you said that out loud instead of in your head. Embarrassment floods your body immediately and you look up to see both men staring at you in surprise.

“Uhm, sorry. It’s nothing, can I see the box?” You gesture towards the large brown box labeled evidence.

Sam plops it at your feet and you sift through the copious amounts of plastic bags until you come across a piece of fabric.

“It’s a piece of the dress she was wearing when she was found. Another piece was sent off to the lab which is where they found all those bomb-making chemicals on it.” Sam informs you.

You take a deep breath and remove the cloth from the bag and roll it around your fingers. You’re fingers grip it hard and feel it softly, trying to conjure up something, anything, in your head.

“It’s not a carrier,” You begin, the ship showing up in your mind, but your knowledge is foggy from when you were a Marine.

“Submarine?”

“Destroyer?”

“Cruiser?”

“Battleship?”

“I - I - don’t know… fuck,” You clench the fabric in your fists in an attempt to cease their shaking. All these ships look the fucking same anyway.

Not to the Navy, they don’t.

You ignore it and continue, “I - I - I see a man,” A whine escapes you as the emotion becomes overwhelming, “He’s bald and - and white and like forty? Maybe? Uh,”

You sniffle, “Prince, Prince, Prince, Prince, I don’t know why I’m seeing Prince.”

“Like the singer?” Sam questions.

Bucky gently takes the cloth from your hands, “I think that’s enough for now.”

You try to catch your breath and hastily wipe the tears that escaped your eyes. “I was a Marine, why can’t I remember the ship?” You ask more yourself than the other two people in the room.

Maybe it's all the crazy taking up so much space it’s gotta push some of the older info out.

Ignore. It.

“Cruisers are named after battles and destroyers are named after names, maybe Prince is a destroyer ship. I’ll have an agent look into all current operating ships and see if any matches come up. Barnes, go give Sharon the description of this bald white guy, see if she can use it to match with a bomb manufacturing place.”

“Yes, sir, Cap.” Bucky stands from his seat beside you and exits the room.

The two of you sit in silence, now; you’re not really sure what to do. Should you leave again? Wait until they need you? Stay? Make small talk with Captain America?

“Can I ask you something?” Sam interrupts the quiet.

“Sure.”

“Why are you so adamant about being here? You’re pretty good at this investigative stuff and I think you have a lot of potential for it.”

You give an appreciative smile at his compliment before answering, “I was a Marine for two years where I followed orders from assholes and worked alongside people that treated me like I was garbage. Then, I was kidnapped by HYDRA and tortured to comply working under an organization I didn’t want to with people who didn’t even treat me like a human being. And now, I’m brought here to live and work in a place I don’t want to be at with people who don’t and will never know who I actually am. So, you can kind of see why I’m adamant.”

Sam looks down, and you don’t want to make him feel bad, because he gave you the best scenario he could given the circumstances of everything.

“I just want a little bit of control with my life for once, is all. But, I know what I have now is very lucky for me, so I’m grateful, even if it’s not what I want.”

He looks back at you and now it’s your turn to give him a reassuring smile. You have a feeling you’ll grow on each soon enough.

…

You’re glad your powers didn’t fail you for your first case, because that would have been terribly embarrassing. Sharon was able to find a German bomb-making company with employees who have recently gone missing that match the descriptions of the man you saw and the Jane Doe.

Now that their identities have been found, there’s still the question of where this bomb is and if it’s even real.

You can’t help but let it keep you up that night. When you were doing jobs for HYDRA, it wasn’t a matter of making sure every rock was left turned over; you performed the job because the alternative was being tortured.

You glance at the clock, 1:32.

You remember one particular mission you didn’t complete because it involved you having to kill kids. And when you returned with an unfinished mission they tortured you so bad that you begged them to just kill you. And they said that they would never kill you because then the horrors would end. It was the easy way out; and they would torture you for the rest of time before they ever kill you. It was too much mercy to be shown to a prisoner.

Another glance at the clock that tells you only six minutes have passed causes you to get up. You can’t get too deep into your thoughts, especially if tomorrow is going to have you busy helping with this case. You have to make yourself busy.

So you cook. You go through the pantries and cupboards for ingredients; brown sugar, white sugar, eggs, flour, vanilla. You became very good at estimating and perfecting the things you wanted to cook. You never had a phone or laptop to look up measurements for something or a cookbook to follow, so you had to experiment yourself until you got it right. When you lived in your apartment, sometimes you would venture out to bookstores and try your hardest to memorize the recipes in cookbooks in order to replicate it at home.

You quietly mix together all of the ingredients until a thick dough forms. Cinnamon and brown sugar cookies. One reason you liked cooking so much is because, even though it was hard without any instructions to follow, it was one of the few times your voices were quiet. Actual silence. You cooked without any electric supplies or music for this reason, too.

You sit on the ground in front of the oven and watch as the balls of cookie dough slowly melt and rise up again, forming the perfect circular shape with the perfect amount of chewiness and crunch when you take a bite.

You softly unstick the cookies from the pan with a spatula and glance at the clock again. 3:02.

You remember Bucky’s words from this morning; how he sticks around for these kinds of missions in his spare room.

“Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yes, Agent?”

“Is… Is Bucky here?”

“Yes, Agent.”

“Is he awake?”

“Yes, Agent.”

“But, is he, like, awake - awake? Or like falling asleep, but still technically awake - awake? Or is he -”

“Would you like me to lead you to where his quarters are, Agent?”

The hallways are quiet, but you’re grateful that there are lights along the floors so you’re not completely walking through the dark. Seeing a sliver of dim light show underneath his door makes you feel a little better about the late hour. After about five minutes of contemplation, you raise your fist and leave three soft knocks on the door.

Bucky opens the door a few seconds later and seems wide awake. You see behind him a notebook open on his desk with some music playing softly in the room.

You speak before he gets a chance to, “I made too many cookies, do you want to help me eat them?”

A smile grows on his face as he silently nods after a moment.

“Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y., mind turning everything off, please?”

The lights turn off and the music stops as he closes the door behind him. The two of you quietly walk side by side back towards the elevator, because it seems like Bucky’s room is right below yours.

He wears a black long sleeve shirt and dark gray cotton shorts, paired with white socks on his feet. What you would do to add some color to this man’s closet, you think.

A cloud of sugar and warmth hits him in the face when he enters your room. The combination of your smell and the smell of cookies and the sight of you in cute little pink shorts and an oversized college sweatshirt that has a big bear on it and the yellow and orange polka-dotted socks on your feet and all of your things everywhere makes him feel like he just entered his dreams.

“It smells amazing in here.” He compliments.

He watches you smile and grab the pan that has since cooled enough for you to grab it and walk over to plop down on your bed. Bucky follows and sits himself down utop one of your soft fuzzy blankets.

“Are these brown sugar cookies? These are my favorite,” Bucky says as he shovels one in his mouth whole.

I know they’re your favorite.

“Mmm - almost feels like I’m back at your apartment.” He smiles nostalgically, looking around and taking in the wonderful colors of your personality that brighten up this room.

“Good, means I did a good job redecorating. It’s okay that I did decorate, right? There isn’t a security deposit I’m going to lose?” You joke, and for a moment, it really does feel like the two of you are back in your apartment, before all of this chaos hit the fan.

The two of you eat and eat and eat, sharing playful small talk in between bites, until the two of you are  stuffed to the brim with dough and are laying side by side on the bed, empty tray by both of your feet.

“Hey, Bucky?” You ask out into the calm, open air.

“Mmm,” He hums.

“I’m sorry for spitting on you. And then avoiding you. And then yelling at you and saying those awful things,” You turn on your side and lay a hand on his arm, “I didn’t mean it, I was just upset.” Your eyebrows quirk up at him, silently begging him to forgive you.

He sends a playful smile at you before mirroring you and turning on his side as well to face you, grabbing your hand from his arm and holding it in his large one, “It’s okay, doll. I would’ve been just as upset as you if I were in your position. I’m sorry things didn’t… work out the way they should’ve for you.”

“Not something you gotta apologize for, Bucky.” You whisper.

The two of you lay there, hands intertwined in each other, eyes locked. You’re not sure how long the two of you lay like that, or how long Bucky stays, but sleep finally comes to you at 4:55 in the morning.

…

The next few days pass in a bit of a blur. One of the private hackers was able to get a list of ships in communication with the found German bomb-manufacturing company and Sharon was able to find one of the ships, named The Princeton - which is why you kept seeing something about prince in your head, not because of the late musical artist - which was having a scheduled bomb test aboard. A bomb testing that was swapped with real bombs instead of fake ones, seemingly by the man you saw in your visions, the same one who tried to bury Jane Doe. All of the Marines aboard remained safe and unharmed, and you officially closed the case on your very first mission.

Sam thought you did very well, but still wanted to keep a slow pace with your advancements on the team. He set up for you to train with him a few times a week in a private training room, and perhaps with the next set of agent trainees Bucky will be tasked with at the beginning of the year in a few weeks.

With the mission being completed, Bucky returned home to his apartment to sleep and stay until he’s called once again for another mission. He kind of… can’t wait? After Steve retired, he didn’t see a big reason to continue with all the fighting; he didn’t really see a reason even before Steve retired when he was still staying in Wakanda. He enjoyed that quiet lifestyle, tending to his gardens, feeding his sheep, cleaning up around wherever he could, talking to those that lived around him, hanging out with the children. It was paradise for him.

But now, with you around, actually around where he doesn’t have to hide you from his closest friends, the prospect of more missions doesn’t seem all that horrible. Maybe it’s the thought that you’d be around him that makes it more bearable for him, or maybe he’s just simply had a change of heart over time.

He finds himself returning more and more to the tower when he doesn’t have to; finding the smallest excuses to go - sometimes he doesn’t even run into you when he does. But he tries to.

He’s roaming around the open gym, opting for thirty miles on the treadmill instead of out and around his neighborhood, panting a bit while he wipes down the machine before leaving to go work with the weights. He feels a tap on his shoulder and he turns and plucks a headphone of his ear, coming face to face with an old trainee, now trained agent.

“Nuñez, what’s up?” Bucky greets him with a rough shake of the hand. Don’t get him wrong, he was a fantastic soldier to train, and he turned out to be an even more fantastic agent. But he has no idea why he’s talking to him while he’s in the middle of a workout.

“Hey, Sergeant, sorry to bother you. I - uh, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?” He stutters out.

Why is he so nervous?

Bucky urges him to continue with a nod of his head.

“So, uh, I wanna ask you something, y’know, man-to-man, rather than Sergeant-to-Agent, and - and - feel free to tell me if I’m overstepping with this! I just didn’t - didn’t -”

“Spit it out, Nuñez.”

“Okay, okay. Remember the last briefing we had?”

“It was about five days ago, yes, I remember.”

“Right, right, of course. Well, there was… this girl sitting next to you.”

A part of Bucky freezes and he hopes he’s talking about Sharon.

“Agent Carter?” Bucky asks.

“No, no, not Agent 13. The other girl sitting next to you. Black hair, kinda short.” He tries, but Bucky knows exactly who he’s talking about.

“What about her?” Bucky tries to turn on a bit more of his Sergeant voice, anything to end this conversation because he has a feeling where it might be going.

Agent Nuñez pasues, “Well, uh, who is she?”

“Why?”

“She’s pretty.”

“She’s pretty?” Bucky repeats.

“Yeah. I wanted to know who she is, I haven’t seen her around and I don’t remember her from any of the trainings.”

“She’s a new agent in training, she’s being trained under the Captain.” Bucky tells him.

“Oh… What’s her name?”

“Nuñez! Enough with the twenty questions!” Bucky bursts out, because why does he have such a fascination with you? It’s like he wants to -

“I just wanna ask her out or something, but I don’t know anything about her!”

“Well, that sounds like a good reason to -” Bucky stops himself when an idea comes into his head, and before he can think twice about it, he’s speaking once more,

“Actually, I just remembered, Nuñez. She’s taken. She’s in a relationship. So, yeah. Sorry.” Bucky slaps a hand on the Agent’s shoulder for good measure.

“Oh… that sucks. It’s always the pretty ones that are taken, huh?”

“Yeah, buddy. Anyway, see you later!” Bucky breathes out, desperate to get out of that conversation and just continue with his damn workout…

Why did he just lie like that in order to stop a guy from asking you out?

[avatarmerida]

The Grilled Cheese Timeline

Set between I Am My Monster and The Future because I need to know when the first Connverse kiss happened. Please excuse any spelling errors, I wrote this at 5AM

Edit: The text disappeared for awhile, but if you’re seeing this I obviously fixed it! Thanks for your patience and support of my first Steven Universe fic!

Connie delicately knocked on the glass, after making sure he wasn’t sleeping and once she saw his encouraging wave, she allowed herself to let herself in.

“Hey there,” she said in whisper, so quiet he wouldn’t have been able to hear it if the room hadn’t already been dead quiet.

“Connie!” He exclaimed as much as he could, sitting up from the bed to see her head peeking in through the sliding door.

“You sure you’re up for a visit?” She said cautiously. “Cause we can always do this over the phone if you’re not-.”

“No I’m fine,” he insisted in a time she truthfully believed. “Really. I promise. I’ve been resting so much, please come in!” He sat up straighter to prove it to her, to prove it wasn’t the facade he had become so familiar with months ago. She saw the Steven she knew and marched in, bringing her collection of papers onto the bed where he sat.

“Okay, so half of this is what my mom recommended and half is my own online research,” she began as she spread the pile onto his sheets. “Once I realized cost wasn’t a limitation with your dad, it made the search much easier, but makes limiting much harder. There’s a a lot of overlap, but then again meeting up in person is a huge factor-.”

“Did doing this take away from your studying?”

“Steven, that doesn’t matter,” insisted Connie. “Even if it did, I’ll always put you ahead of my studies whether you like it or not! I’ve dedicated my day to finding you a good therapist but if it takes longer I don’t care. And I’ll know if you’re lying, so don’t rush this because of me.”

“I know, I know,” he laughed as a blush found it’s way to his cheeks. He watched in adoration as Connie shuffled through her collection of papers, he face scrunched in determination. He knew her studies were important but in all honesty he was overjoyed to have this quiet time with her after all the chaos.

“Are the gems home?” She asked as she organized.

“No,” he said. “They’re in town. Garnet said they were doting on me too much and that it was important I have this day away from them.”

“Future vision?”

“Most likely,” he sighed contently, basking in the sun that shone through the window. “I know she likes to keep things random, but she likes knowing I’m making the right progress, I guess. Pearl has made me more soup than I know what to do with.”

“I can see that,” laughed Connie as the various bowls around his room suddenly entered her sight. “Want me to make you something that’s not soup?”

Steven looked at her with wide eyes. “Connie, I would love nothing more.”

So they relocated to the kitchen as Connie opened each cupboard, looking for something to make. Each cupboard had a plethora of soup cans.

“Why did Pearl get so much soup?” She asked

Steven shrugged. “It’s what humans eat when they’re sick,” he said. “I guess dad mentioned it once to her and after everything that happened... she really wanted me to get better.”

“I guess I understand that,” said Connie as she slowly closed the cupboard. “Hmmm how about... a grilled cheese? I don’t know what else-.”

“Yes!!!” Steven sang with a bolt of energy he hadn’t had in weeks. “Connie that’s perfect!”

“Okay,” she smiled, happy to see him happy. “But only if you look through those pamphlets while I make it.”

“Deal,” he said, sitting down at the table totally focused, determined to read each one cover to cover. The two coexisted in silence for a few minutes, engrossed in their tasks until Steven found the courage to speak. “Wow, they all seem so...”

“Experienced?” Offered Connie.

“Serious,” said Steven. “I... I guess I didn’t realize how much was wrong with me...”

“Hey, hold on!” Said Connie, turning down the burner and rushing to sit beside him at the table. “There is nothing wrong with you.” She said as she waved a spatula in his face.

“I mean, everyone keeps saying that but-.”

“But nothing!” She said, setting the utensil down to take his hands in hers, though he looked down at the table. “You’re kind and sweet and smart. Therapy isn’t about finding what’s wrong with you it’s about helping you understand things. It’s about helping you find answers that are difficult to find by yourself. You’ve helped everyone else, this is just a way to help yourself.”

“Like help m-my trauma?” He tried to laugh. Connie nodded. Steven took a deep breath. “But what about you?”

“Me?”

“When your mom said I had trauma,” he began. “In the hospital... she asked me... and all the things that... there was so much you were there for. The bubble, almost drowning, Homeworld...”

“Steven...” she said softly, he turned from her, afraid he would cry. The very notion that she felt even a fragment of what he had felt...

“Steven,” she continued. “I’m okay.”

“You say that now,” he said, wiping away a tear. “But that’s what I thought. And I don’t want you to hate me. I mean, I don’t hate the gems or the diamonds or anything but... you... I brought you into this... and I know you said...”

“We’re in this together,” she finished with great strength. “No matter what that means. If it’s sword fighting and intergalactic travel, that’s fine! But if it’s just sitting and talking and reading Unfamiliar Familiar, that’s fine with me. If it’s sad sometimes and hard to understand, well... that’s fine too.”

“But...”

“Steven, I used to think my life was too boring for you, but you liked me for me. And I like you for you, whether or not you have a magical destiny or unresolved issues. As for my trauma... I always had you. You were there to reassure me that I could handle it or you took the blow for me. You were the best friend I could ever hope for... plus my mom has made me see a therapist since I was 8...”

“Oh,” Steven chuckled, slightly embarrassed.

“Yeah,” She replied, returning to the stove. “I come with issues of my own. But I promise it does help. Even though most of my sessions, my therapist didn’t quite believe me when I said I was taking sword fighting lessons from an ageless alien gem warrior.”

Steven laughed. “I bet that was a first!”

Connie laughed with him. “Before that we mostly discussed my trouble making friends, and then I met you. And then, we mostly talked about you.”

Steven exhaled sharply. “Me?” He dared asked, nervous.

“Yeah,” she chuckled, focusing on the melting cheese. “I mostly talked about my crush on you.”

The sandwich sizzled on the pan but Steven did not continue the conversation. Connie turned and saw his face contorted in shock and surprise.

“What?!” He exclaimed, louder than he had spoken in days.

“What?” She repeated, genuinely confused. “Oh, wait. Did you really not know I had a crush on you?” She said it so casually as she flipped the sandwich.

“No!” He said, nearly falling out of his chair. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Well, I didn’t know,” she said, her face slightly blushing. “Not really. I just talked about you a lot and how you made me feel. I though it was just what having a friend was like! But there was so much going on-.”

“Connie!” Exclaimed Steven, far too dramatically. “When was this?”

“Oh wow,” she said, her mind racing. “Not too long after we met, I guess. I think it was when around the time you healed my eyes was when I-.”

“That was so early!”

“Steven, we were young!” She laughed, flipping the sandwich before it burned. “I was still developing my opinions on romance! Besides, if my mother knew I had a crush on you she never would have let me come over so often. Though, I’m pretty sure she suspected-.”

“Your mom knew?”

“Probably,” she laughed at the memory, looking a plate for the sandwich. “But of course she didn’t want to assume. It’s probably for the better, she would’ve only been stricter.”

“I can’t even imagine that,” laughed Steven as Connie brought over the finished creation, cut in four triangles just as he liked it. They each took one and basked in its warmth. “Mhmmm so cheesy!” He exclaimed, savoring each bite. “I guess it’s for the best, mostly because I’m pretty sure I’ve had a crush on you since before I even knew what a crush was! Haha, she definitely wouldn’t have let you come over then!”

Connie nearly spit out her sandwich. “What?” She managed to say despite a mouth full of bread.

“Yeah, I guess I can talk about that in therapy,” he said as he chewed, deep in memory. “Maybe? Is that what you’re supposed to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I- oh no,” he cut himself off, afraid he had said too much. I mean, I guess I didn’t make it a secret, but is therapy only for secrets? Was it supposed to be a secret? I mean, when my dad talked about my mom and how they were that’s how I thought we were-.”

“Aw, Steven,” she said, covering her mouth as he swallowed her bite of grilled cheese. “That’s... actually really sweet.”

“R-really?” He asked, suddenly bashful.

“Yes,” she confirmed, unwavering. “I mean, schmaltz has always been your department. You were always better at this kind of stuff anyway, feelings and knowing how people felt. You made me better too. I always thought you knew! Like... like the day you healed my eyes I was... well, maybe not..”

“What?”

“Well,” she began, only a little nervous. “I had heard stories about... romance.... a little and how it worked. And that day when you told me that story... I wanted to reassure you I guess, I almost...”

“Almost what!”

She started laughing. “I almost kissed you!”

“What?!”

“I know!” She exclaimed, the laughter increasing. “You were crying and for some reason I thought... oh, can you imagine? If I had and then my eyes had healed? Oh!” She wiped away a tear as her laughter began to subside. “I mean, it only took me nearly three years later to try again but...”

“Try again?”

“Oh, before I went to space camp I thought-.”

“Wait, you still had a crush on me before space camp!?”

Connie liked at him as though he was playing a practical joke on her. “Yes,” she said bluntly. “I though that was... obvious?”

It was his turn to nearly spit out his sandwich. “What?!”

“Steven, I thought you knew!” She exclaimed. “Isn’t that why-?”

“Why what?”

“Why you, uh...” it was still an awkward subject to bring up so causally.

“I proposed,” he grimaced, though with less despair than before. The memory had been demoted from a trigger to a slight embarrassment. “I realize now I skipped a lot of steps, huh?” He chuckled.

“Ya think?” Connie said with a raise of her eyebrow, joining the joke and the two shared a grand laugh. Steven missed the sound of her laugh, the way she laughed when it was only the two of them: unfiltered and loud.

“Oh boy,” he sighed. “Do you think I would have had better luck if I had just asked you to be my girlfriend instead?”

“Definitely,” said Connie as she rose to put the dish in the sink, responding like it was an inquiry she heard every day.

“Wait, really?” Asked Steven, his grin almost too wide for his face.

“I, uh, mean maybe?” Sputtered Connie as the conversation caught up with her. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “If that was something you wanted, I mean...”

“Like when Archamicarus asks Lisa if she’ll follow him to the misty forest? Even though he doesn’t know what might happen?” He tried. Connie turned to him with wide eyes, the comparison sending a thunder bolt through her heart in the best possible way.

“And Lisa says of course, no question,” she continued, moving back over to the table to the seat beside him. “Because they’ve always been there for each other and this next step was written by the great elders.”

Steven moves his chair closer to hers. “And when they walk past the everlasting volcano, all he can think about is how her eyes shine in the light and how much he wants to see her eyes shine forever.”

She moved her seat closer to him. “And even though Lisa knows there’s a bigger mystery to solve, all she cares about is being by his side, even as they enter the deadly oasis from which no one returns.”

His hand gently clasped over hers on the table. “T-those are really good books,” he said quietly.

“They’re very well written,” agreed Connie as she found herself engrossed in his eyes, moving closer and closer to him. The distant between them was growing smaller as they each tried to think of more book quotes to say but found themselves determined to see the moment through. A familiar wind blew through Connie’s hair as she timidly placed her free hand on his cheek. Her eyelids grew heavy as a old feeling swirled in her heart, this time unrushed as her face inched closer. Steven follows suit and a new shade of pink creaky on his face, this one welcomed and filled will suspense. He wanted nothing more than to instantly end the space that separated them, and as he-

“Steven we’re home!” sang Pearl as she burst through the front door, shopping bags gracing her arms. Connie and Steven immediately faced forward, fiercely blushing and trying to act as though nothing had been interrupted, because nothing had been interrupted unfortunately.

“Yo, we gotchu more soup man!” Added Amethyst. “Hurry up and eat it so I can eat the can!”

“Amethyst, eaten two already,” sighed Pearl. “Oh, hello Connie!” Pearl said, delighted to see the girl. “Will you be joining us for lunch? I’ve got plenty of soups to chose from!”

“Um actually, I think I should be heading out,” she said quickly rising from her chair. “I think I left some pamphlets at home and we want to make sure this decision is as informed as possible and it’s getting late so I should go. Bye Steven!” She grabbed her bag and made and mad dash past the gems.

“Hello Connie!” Greeted Garnet, carrying more soup as Connie passed her running down the stairs. Lion met her below as Garnet made her way inside, beaming. “So, Steven, I trust you had a good time while we were- oh no.”

“What’s wrong?” Asked Amethyst.

Garnet lowered her glasses to confirm her suspicions. “We’re in the grilled cheese timeline,” she said simply, starring at the half eaten piece that remained on the table. “We should’ve returned 4.6 minutes later. We’ve messed up his funky flow.”

“What?” Asked Pearl with a faint smile.

“No time to explain,” said Garnet calmly. “Steven, bring this to Connie.” She reached to her left and showed him a bright blue umbrella Connie had left there months ago. “She forgot it.”

“It’s not even raining,” replied Steven, and at that very moment a loud crack of thunder ripped though the air. “I’m okay... but, she has Lion. He can teleport; she won’t get wet.”

“Steven, she forgot it. And she wants you to bring it to her.” Garnet said this slowly, hoping to never over explain herself. Steven realized how little convincing he needed to chase after Connie as he grabbed the umbrella and ran. He skipped the stairs and floated down, luckily Lion hadn’t teleported yet.

“Connie!” He called as loud as he could, though now the rain was getting pretty intense. He worried she wouldn’t hear him over the rainfall. “Connie!”

Lion was about to jump though the portal, but luckily, at the last second, Connie turned around.

“Steven?” She asked, confused. She hopped off Lion and ran toward him, worried. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” He said as they met in the middle, the rain dowsing their faces.

“Are you sure?” She chuckled lightly. “You’re soaking wet.”

“Exactly!” He said proudly. “That’s why I brought you this!” He went to present her with the umbrella but saw his outstretched hand was empty. Confused, he looked around and saw the umbrella several feet behind him laying on the ground, practically still st the temple. “Garnet said you, uh forgot something. Hold on.”

He generated a shield to keep the rain off them, the least he could do since he blamed himself for her getting wet now. He moved closer to her to ensure she was covered, the pink light reflected on them and Connie was grateful as she assumed it hid her blush.

“Garnet said that huh?” She asked brightly, fidgeting with her hair.

“Yeah,” he sighed, disappointed he couldn’t come to her rescue. “But I dropped it. Unless you forgot something else.”

“I think I might have...” she said and his eyes look to her in confusion. Hers were certain and soft as she stepped closer and placed both hands on his face. He remained still as she pulled herself In to erase the space and place an eager yet chaste kiss on his lips. His eyes widened beige they closed as he absentmindedly dropped the shield and placed his arms to his sides, out of disbelief and uncertainty. But soon enough he leaned into it and a familiar glow surrounded them.

Suddenly, Stevonnie stood in the rain, the cool water flattening their hair but they didn’t mind. They were embodied in a warm sensation of love, that was somehow both familiar and unfamiliar. It was curious and certain but most importantly it was shared. They spun around, embracing themself smiling like they’d never smiled before.

“Wow,” they murmured, a conversation buzzing within them. They erupted into a collection of giggles, giddy beyond belief.

“Is this gonna happen every time we kiss?” Laughed the Connie part of them.

“Every time?!”

Another flash of light and Connie and Steven returned to the beach, right back in their positions minus Steven’s shield to hold back the rain. Steven looked at his friend with wider eyes than he thought he was capable of, suddenly unworthy of her gaze but she refused to surrender it. He cleared his throat, not really wanting to leave this moment but he knew if they didn’t she’d catch a cold. “Lets uh, get Lion, better uh... get you home.”

She smiled as followed him over, their fingers laced which was nothing new but somehow now... it was. He used his floating powers to lift her onto Lion’s back, which he knew he didn’t have to do but she was glad he did.

“So, uh, is... that what you forgot?” He asked from the ground, his collar somehow feeling hot in the rain.

“Yeah,” she said as Lion made his way forward, the pairs eyes never leaving one another. “Thanks for holding onto it for me. Think I’ll forget it again tomorrow.” Lion dashed off into the portal as she left Steven with a parting wink. He stayed there a few moments after she left, processing what had happened and when it finally sank in he leapt I to the air victoriously.

“Steven!” He heard Pearl call from the house. “Come inside for some soup! Garnet says you’re going to catch a cold!”

[vannahfanfics]

And for my second fluff alphabet, I'd love Morinozuka Takeshi from Ouran Highschool Host Club, please. 💙🌹

Honestly expected this; I know how much you adore Mori LOL. Can’t blame you. He’s gorgeous. Enjoy! 

Fluff Alphabet- Takashi Morinozuka

A-   Activities: How do they spend their time with their s/o?

Takashi’s a movie buff, specifically for martial arts movies. One of his favorite things to do is snuggle up with his s/o for a night of binging his favorites or having an outing to the movie theater to see the latest release. In particular, he likes to comment on the battle choreography and whether it’s realistic or not. Takashi gets really pumped about this topic and talks way more than usual, and the way his eyes light up and cheeks flush is particularly adorable.

Takashi also likes to go play with animals at animal shelters with his s/o. It makes him really sad that he can’t take all of them home, but he knows how important socialization is for them, so it’s a weekly thing for him and his s/o to go spend some time with them. If his s/o is into activism, he’s totally down for organizing and attending promotions and events for the shelter! This boy wants to see all those animals get a good home!

Although these are the things Takashi himself enjoys, he’s so down-to-earth that he’ll enjoy anything his s/o wants to do. It doesn’t take much convincing to get him to do pretty much whatever; as long as he can see his s/o smile, that’s plenty enough for him.

B-    Body: What does this character appreciate about their s/o? What part of their body are they most proud of, and in reverse, what body part are they ashamed of and how do they respond to their s/o gushing over it?

Takashi loves his s/o’s hands. He loves to hold them and press little kisses over their knuckles or palms or the tops of their hands, rub little circles into the skin, whatever. It’s just such a meaningful thing to him! Takashi also loves his partner’s smile. He will do anything, including make a complete fool of himself, to see them smile. It has the power to light up his day.

Takashi’s not really the type to think about his body. He just really doesn’t care, but he does get a certain satisfaction from his physique. He’s a very healthy and fit guy thanks to kendo and karate. In the same vein, he really doesn’t have any issues with his self-esteem, body-wise. Honestly, he’ll get flustered no matter what his partner compliments about him. Compliments of any kind from his s/o embarrass him easily, and it’s totally adorable.

C-    Cuddles: Is this character a cuddler? What is their favorite way to cuddle?

Not the cuddliest of the hosts, but my mans still won’t deny a snuggling. Takashi’s favorite way to cuddle is to have his s/o seated between his long legs, laid back against his chest with his arms around their waist. It really gives a lot of options- propping his chin on their crown of their head, running his hands over their arms or sides, and plenty of areas to drop little kisses. When they’re watching movies, he likes to lay behind his s/o on the couch. Takashi’s so easygoing, though, that he’ll cuddle whatever way. He’s just happy to get snuggles from his s/o!

D-   Dreams: How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Believe it or not, Takashi isn’t that much of a forward-thinking guy; he very much takes it day by day, the perfect epitome of “go with the flow.” Still, after a while, Takashi muses on the idea of a future with his s/o. Mostly simple visions of a house in the suburbs in a good school district, white picket fence and cute little flowerbeds kind of life. He fancies having children eventually, a couple, maybe a girl and a boy to have the best of both worlds. They’ll have nice successful careers. Rather than spending all their money on some great big grandiose manor, live a little modestly and invest to have something to pass on to his children and maybe donate to charity when they pass on. Takashi just wants a nice simple life with a good partner, nothing fancy at all.

E-    Equivalence: Is this character the dominant force in the relationship, are they passive, or is the relationship more or less even?

Takashi may be easygoing, but he isn’t a pushover, as we see numerous times with his best friend Mitsukuni. The relationship will most definitely be an even split, because as much as he wants it to be a smooth ride, he won’t allow his partner to make all the decisions and basically carry the relationship. He knows that dating it a mutual, give-and-take kind of thing. It’s for this reason that a relationship with Takashi is actually pretty stellar, because there is a lot of communication and compromise.

F-    Fights: How does this character respond to arguments with their s/o? What would they fight about, and who would cave and apologize first?

Takashi does not like confrontation. He’ll speak his mind, but once it delves into actual arguing and fighting, he shuts down. This can actually make it kind of frustrating, because the man just won’t talk for a good hour or so. He’s already apologizing, repeating “I’m sorry” and “I don’t know what to do,” and after a point it’s a little heartbreaking. Once his s/o calms down and it able to rationalize better, he’ll open back up and real discussion can occur. Takashi just doesn’t respond well to raised voices and conflict, so his s/o will have to be mindful of that.

G-   Gratitude: How does this character show their s/o that they are grateful?

In true Host Club fashion, Takashi gets his s/o their favorite flowers- a single one for small, everyday gratitude and nice colorful bouquets for the big, meaningful stuff. Takashi isn’t the best with words so the accompanying message will be a pretty simple “I’m lucky to have you” or “I’m grateful you’re with me,” but his bluntness has a charm of its own.

H-   Honeymoon: If this character had a honeymoon with their s/o, where would they go?

Takashi would love to go somewhere with distinct culture, like the Mediterranean or South America. Honestly, just taking a two-week jaunt around Europe to see major cultural landmarks is the ideal trip for him. However, if his s/o has their heart set on a tropical island getaway, Takashi will oblige; they have the entire rest of their lives to travel, after all, and certainly have the means to do so.

I-      Insecurity: What is this character insecure about? How do they deal with their insecurities with their s/o?

Takashi sometimes finds himself wondering if he’s too boring because he’s so down-to-earth. He doesn’t think on it a terrible amount, because he isn’t the type to stress about these things, but once in a blue moon he’ll ask his s/o if they think he’s dull. Takashi will feel a lot better when his s/o basically laughs in his face and tells him that he isn’t dull at all, and that will be that. Takashi has a lot of trust in his s/o to tell him the truth and trust in their relationship, so it’s not something he dwells on for long.

J-      Jealousy: Is this character the jealous type? How do they deal with being jealous?

As I just said, Takashi has a lot of trust in his s/o and the relationship. He is not the jealous type, at all. He gets no sneaking suspicions if his s/o is spending a lot of time with someone else, and completely ignores any lingering looks his s/o gets. He knows his partner loves him and that’s all that matters. His s/o would literally have to openly flirting and kissing on someone else for him to get even slightly jealous, but by then a hard boundary has been crossed and Takashi’s little heart is broken. Don’t do that to this boy; he is literally so soft and trusting.  

K-   Kiss: What does the character want their first kiss to be like with their s/o? How does it end up happening?

Again, Takashi is a go-with-the-flow kind of guy, so he basically figures that the first kiss will happen when it happens. The first kiss will likely be after the second or third date while he’s escorting his s/o up their driveway and they linger by the front door to say their farewells… And the mood will just strike him and he’ll give them a sweet, chaste kiss. Just your good ol’ typical first kiss kind of business, but no less riveting!

L-    Love Confession: How does this character first profess their love to their s/o?

Takashi’s blunt and going to say what’s on his mind, so once he gets the feeling that he’s in love, he’s going to come right out and say it. Of course, he has the presence of mind to do so in the appropriate situation. He’ll likely set up a nice date with his s/o to set the mood right and give him time to work out exactly what he wants to say, because Takashi isn’t flowery with his words. However, when the time comes to it he’s just gonna bluntly stare at his s/o and tell them he loves them. Could be intimidating and make his s/o gush a little, but hey, that’s how he feels!

M-  Marriage: How does this character view marriage? What is their ideal wedding like?

Takashi of course wants to marry someday. It’s a thing people do and an appropriate step in a relationship. Why wouldn’t he? Takashi doesn’t really care about what kind of wedding it is; he’ll let his s/o decide, because even though it’s a day for the both of them, they’ll likely be more into the particulars than he is. As long as all his friends and family are in attendance, he doesn’t much care.

N-   Nicknames: What does this character like to call their s/o?

Given he referred to Mitsukuni as “Honey” for almost their entire lives, it’s weird to him to call his s/o that. Takashi actually sticks to calling his s/o by their name most of the time, but ever so often a “dear,” “beautiful,” “angel,” or “gorgeous” will slip out.  

O-   On Cloud Nine: What is this character like when they’re in love? Is it obvious to others, or are they good at hiding it?

Takashi is the king of being stoic and stone-faced, so of course no one notices when he’s in love. The signs are exceptionally subtle, and only someone with acute observation skills like Haruhi can notice- lingering gazes, slightly closer proximity, an increased number of instances of helpful behavior. There is not even a hint of a blush or nervous fidgeting on Takashi’s part. It’s quite masterful, even though he’s totally unaware that he’s even doing it. For a while, the other guys don’t even believe Haruhi saying he’s in love with somebody until she publicly asks him without his s/o around and he’s just like “LOL Yeah, why’s it a big deal?” Instant KO for everyone in the room.

P-    PDA: Does this character like PDA? If so, what kinds of things do they do in public to show off their s/o?

Takashi isn’t the type to initiate much PDA, but he doesn’t care if his s/o touches him in public all the time. If they slide their hand in his, he won’t let go or pull away and may even intertwine their fingers; if they go in for a kiss he’ll turn his head to reciprocate; if they hug him randomly he’ll immediately throw their arms around him. It’s funny because he’ll just react and won’t even break the conversation he’s having or alter concentration on whatever he’s doing. It’s a skill he’s acquired from Mitsukuni randomly throwing himself at him for years.

Q-   Quirks: What random traits or quirks does this character have that positively affect the relationship?

Because Takashi speaks what’s on his mind, surprise compliments or flirts are common. He can fluster his s/o so easily by just randomly saying something sweet because it occurred to him, and he won’t even get why they’re embarrassed because he just thinks it’s nice to compliment them when he feels like it. Truly amazing.

R-    Romance: Is this character a hopeless romantic, or a bit on the low-key side? Are they cliché when it comes to romantic gestures, or can they get a little bit creative?

Takashi is definitely the most low-key of all the hosts when it comes to romanticism. Takashi likes to keep things simple- typical outings, typical gifts, the like. Still, Takashi can get a little creative if he notices his s/o likes certain things and will tailor his gestures to such. The man is very observant and pick up on the tiniest of things.

S-    Secrets: Are there any secrets they hide from their s/o? If so, how do they deal with it when those secrets finally come out?

Takashi is an open book, mostly because he has no secrets to keep nor any care to keep them. He’ll answer anything his s/o asks him matter-of-factly and truthfully, because there’s just not any point in lying or embellishing in his eyes.

T-    Thrill: Does this character prefer routine in their relationship, or do they like to shake things up every once in a while?

Takashi is more spontaneous than routine mostly because he just does what he wants when he feels like it. Definitely expect random calls of, “Hey, I’m at your door, let’s go do this” or a package that reads “I bought this because it made me think of you.” Also, there is no routine knowing a bunch of rich goofballs, and since he’s dragged into the ridiculousness his s/o is too. Still, he likes the idea of one routine thing, so he has weekly things planned like movie nights or the shelter visits, just to keep things from being too chaotic.

U-   Understanding: Is this character level-headed and empathetic toward their partner, or do they sometimes have trouble figuring them out, which leads to some butting heads?

Takashi is hyper-observant and therefore knows his s/o extremely well. His temperament also affords a degree of understanding and empathy. If anything, his s/o will have trouble figuring him out, just because he’s so flighty and quiet. Because he’s relatively open to talking about things, though, there’s no butting heads because he’s just gonna answer any inquiries. The epitome of chill, this guy.

V-   Value: How does this character value their relationship with their s/o? How does it hold in comparison to their goals, ambitions, etc.?

Takashi isn’t necessarily passionate about anything except for maybe his friends, so his relationship pretty much is the most important thing in his life. Sure, doing well in college and getting a good career are important to him, but not nearly as crucial as loving his s/o! It’s just something he feels the need to do well with and invest in, so he’s a bit more excited about it than most things in his life.

W-  Wild Card: Any random fluff headcanon that does not fall within the other categories!

Piggy back rides! Takashi loves to give them, after all the ones he gave Mitsuki. Definitely a bonus for s/o’s that are smaller than him, because all they have to do is take off running towards his back and he’s already squatting down so they can vault up on his back.

X-   XOXO: How does this character show affection?

Takashi mostly shows his affection through gifts and acts of service- he’s not poetic with words and he’s not the touchiest person, so these are the ideal ways he can express himself. He’s always doing little random things for his s/o to help them out, like little chores or errands or pretty much anything they ask. He’ll drop everything to attend to a problem of theirs. Again, gifts are very much a thing for Takashi. Chocolates, jewelry, clothes, that thing his s/o has been talking about for three days but won’t buy- the whole nine yards.

Y-   Yearning: How does this character deal with time apart with their s/o?

Takashi understand distance is an inevitable part of relationships and is able to rationalize it pretty well. He keeps regular communication if he can, but if that isn’t an option, he’s more or less able to busy himself with other things to keep from thinking about it too much. If it drags on for a long time he may get a little blue, but talking it out with one of his friends and getting it off his chest does a hard reset on him. King of long-distance right here; he’s in it for the long haul and is gonna make it work no matter what.

Z-    Zeal: Is this character willing to great lengths for their relationship? If so, how far, and how long does it take to get to this point?

As I mentioned, a relationship is something Takashi invests himself in, and honestly it’s like that pretty early on. It’s just something he gets zealous about, while most things in his life don’t get him to react that way. Takashi is going to do everything he can to make it work out, compromise and communicate.