#god I am so tired of containing this stupid thing inside my body I am so tired of being afraid i’m going to hurt people because of

[wheredafandomat]

Hired Gun

Bodyguard! Loki x y/n Stak reader

18+ | contains angst and mentions of SA. Lil short chap

Part 6 Part 7

Loki didn’t sleep the whole night. He was either watching you sleep, hoping you didn’t throw up, pacing his living room as he spiraled into a pit of self hate and regret or simply sitting still, piecing together the night. How could he have been so stupid, allowing his feelings to cloud his judgment, put you in danger, jeopardise his job? He kept recounting the moments that led up to him leaving, wishing he could reverse time.

Unaware that you had even fallen into a dreamless sleep, you awoke, squinting as you opened your eyes, the sun shining through the blinds and into them. It took a moment for you to realise where you were, the familiar scent of Loki fragrant on the duvet as you pulled it closer, almost hugging it and inhaling. A content sigh fell past your lips as you breathed him in before vague memories of last night began streaming in. You remembered the both of you had an argument, the fact that you still ended up in his bed was almost embarrassing. You looked down at yourself, still wearing your dress as you tried to remember how exactly you ended up at Loki’s before the bedroom door opened, Loki walking inside holding a glass of what looked like orange juice.

“Thank god you’re okay.” He greeted. He looked tired.

“What happened?” You questioned, confused at his relief and the fact that it was clear he didn’t spend the night with you.

“You were spiked I think.” He answered almost earnestly as he made his way closer to the bed. You swallowed thickly after he spoke, a rush of memories flooding you leaving your throat dry.

“H-how did you find me?” You uttered.

“I should have never left you.” He answered, handing you the juice as he sat on the edge of the bed, looking into your eyes.

“Don’t blame yourself.” You tried to console him, putting the juice on his bedside table before placing your hand on his arm. It wasn’t his fault, you told him to leave.

“How can I not, I was supposed to protect you.” He shouted, seemingly at himself although it caused you to flinch as he stood up.

“Loki—”

“It’s my job, my duty.” He continued, walking the length of the room.

“So that’s all I am, a job?” You scoffed, hurt. Loki sighed as he stopped his pacing and turned to look at you sitting in the middle of his bed, his duvet drowning you as he bit his tongue, willing himself to not speak, to not tell you that you’re more than a job, that you’re the love of his life but he couldn’t risk complicating things with emotions anymore. Last night he did, he let his anger control him which led to him leaving. That’s the reason you were in this mess, his ridiculous emotions. He couldn’t risk harming you further.

“Yes y/n, you’re my responsibility okay, my job.” He answered calmly, his words impaling you as you nodded in reply, fighting down a sob at his admission. You wanted to cry, to scream, to ask if it meant nothing, if every moment spent together was worthless, if he was simply incapable of love or if it was you he couldn’t love. “A job I’m sure I’ll lose once I explain—”

“I won’t tell my dad.” You quickly interrupted, voice void of emotion as you peeled back the duvet, standing to your feet. “Thanks for last night, now can you take me home.” You asked stoically, ignoring your face burning as his eyes landed on it.

“Y/n—“

“Now please.” You stressed, pushing past him as you walked out of his bedroom.

The drive back home was silent, your brain replaying the night in your head. You remembered it all, what you said to Loki, Rumlow practically feeding you drinks and his hands on your body when your back was against the wall. You remembered asking him to stop, telling him to stop and the darkening of his eyes as he continued. You remembered being helped, Loki taking you to his place, helping you to bed and the feeling of him stroking your cheek in the night. You remembered him kissing your forehead, feeling loved before the morning came and took it all away.

“Well I’m safe here, you can leave if you want. You’re probably tired after last night.” You offered, undoing your seatbelt when you reached home.

“Or I could stay.” Loki suggested.

“Okay.” You spoke, shrugging your shoulders and feigning nonchalance as you opened the car door before making a beeline to the front door, not bothering to check whether Loki had followed you or if he had decided that his job stops there, once you’re home safe.

You pushed the door open, making your way to the stairs before you spotted your dad looking at you expectedly. You made a detour to him instead as you plastered on a wide smile.

“How was last night hunny?”

“Great” you lied, kissing his cheek “I stayed at a friend's house.” You added, turning to leave.

“Y/n wait, come here a sec.” He requested.

“Mmhmm.” You hummed, facing him.

“Are you okay hon?”

“Yeah, why?” You pretended to chuckle as if his worry wasn’t warranted.

“You just seem—different.” He noted.

“I’m fine dad, now can I go?” You asked as if he was just being paranoid.

“Yeah, you can go.” He smiled before you continued your journey to your room, your own smile falling once your back was to him, face aching as you sniffled slightly, trudging up the stairs. Finally reaching your bedroom, you were free, your tears flowing down your face as your legs gave way underneath you, your body hurtling to the ground. You fell, your knees making contact on the hard floor as you cried. It felt good to be able to feel physical pain, your knees throbbing from the impact. It took away from the mental pain, the emotional pain, the memory of Rumlows hands roaming your body, the dejection from Loki.

Emotions Loki sighed to himself, they’d be the death of him if he didn’t already feel so empty now. He glanced at the empty passenger seat of his car, wondering why he didn’t chase after you.

Tags:

Next

This just screams filler chap 🙄 where’s the SMUT 😂

@lokiprompts @mischief2sarawr @lulubelle814 @lokisgoodgirl @mochie85 @eyesbluelikethetitanic @mcufan72 @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @lokilvrr @evelyn-kingsley @strangelockd @xorpsbane @lovingchoices14 @donaweasley @sailorholly @daggers-and-mischief @kingtwhiddleston @michelleleewise @vickie5446

[i-hope-youre-hopeful]

Just take a pause, John!

I saw John mulaney today. It feels weird and surreal and so cool. I think it’s fun to be excited about life enough to be excited about seeing famous people. And I was - I am. A part of me just can’t help but admire John Mulaney, in spite of all the stupid stuff he’s done and the different reputation he has now. There’s something about him that resonates with me. That’s true of a lot of people, I’m sure. That’s why he’s who he is. I obviously don’t aspire to be like him per se, but I want my mannerisms and my quickness and my humor to be like his. I want the way I respond to things to be like him, sometimes. In a way. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. My point is I got to be in the same room today as someone who I have looked up to in some way for a long time. Someone who I talk like, who I quote daily, whose face I’ve seen many times but never in person. It feels like seeing an old friend, but somehow for the first time. I think I never will get tired of that unique feeling of a parasocial relationship briefly colliding in a physical presence. It feels like how I felt when I saw SuperM, except thankfully I haven’t written horrible graphic fan fiction about John Mulaney kidnapping and mutilating me for fun with my friends. I can’t even imagine doing that, so I don’t know why I could do it with nct. I guess maybe it’s because he feels like a friend. Doesn’t matter.

I was very unhappy that Momma didn’t come. I feel this heaviness with everything concerning my mother. I say that it’s grief on her behalf, but I don’t know if that’s true. I say I’m sorry for her, but I don’t know if I am or if I’m just uncomfortable with her negative presence and I only want her to get better so she can stop poisoning my vibe. I worry I might be very selfish - in fact I’m sure I am. I worry I might be narcissistic. Evidently it runs in the family. I think I only do kind things to reduce discomfort within myself. I still don’t believe everything they tell me. Still I find myself believing more and more of it by the day. I don’t know what’s true. I just want the propaganda to stop. I want quiet. I want vindication. I want my friends. I want freedom. God, I want freedom. I want to be with him, but I can’t. That bothers me more and more by the day. I really must do something about it. Not today though. Never today.

Do you ever feel like you just want to split your whole body open down the center and crawl out of it? I feel like if I could just crack open my chest cavity I would come billowing out in a great cloud and I’d finally be free. I’d spread out across the air and take up the whole room. I am gigantic and I am trapped in something so small. I feel claustrophobic inside myself. I feel like I want to be freed. Oh, how I want to be freed. Free me! Open the cage door and release me! I don’t want to escape, only to come pouring out - to feel the relief of filling the whole space. I don’t want to run away. I want to flood the cracks in the floorboards and drain into the dirt while I gush out the doors and windows and fall in rushing rivulets down the walls. I want to sprawl all across the ground until I roll lazily into still puddles. I want to evaporate into the sky while I sink into the earth. I am air and ocean and wind and tide. I cannot be contained in a jar. Open the lid and let me breathe!

I am what you never were, and you are what I will become. You are a rock that steadies and sinks all at once. I am on fire burning from the inside out. It is eating away at me. It is eating me whole. It is eating me up and chewing me down and spitting me out. It is the past and the present and the future. It is pain and pleasure and all of it all too much all at once. It is fortune and fury, fire and flood. It is boiling in my lungs and bursting out through my ribs. It is prying open my chest cavity and clawing out through the center of my sternum. It is anger. It is hurt and frustration and furious disengagement. It is all too controlled. It is a ball of lava in my stomach and it is melting my midsection. Why have you put it here? Why must I carry it for you? Why can’t you just carry it yourself for once? I am burning up and I won’t stop until the flames swallow you too.

[cherry-pop-soda]

sorry for the unhingedness but im gonna smash my brain against a rock

[dracoscene]

Hi friend! Just ran across your work and I love it!! 😍🤍 would you be willing to write something angsty where the reader overhears him talking to Blaise about how clingy she is and decides to give him space only to find out he was taking about Pansy? And then all is good and there so much fluff and love 💕

Crossed Wires | Draco Malfoy x Reader

Contains: angst, kinda mean Draco, FLUFF

A/N: Thank you so so much for the request, hope this is close to what you wanted!

Word count: 1.6k

_______________________________

"She's pathetic, Blaise."

You came to a halt when you heard the familiar voice of your boyfriend.

"No matter where I go, she's there, all the time. Like a bloody dog." His voice was filled with pure hate. It felt as if the blood in your veins froze as the words fell from his lips.

"What do you expect mate, this girl is head over heels for you. Don't you see the drool on her chin everytime you're within a five mile radius of her?"

Draco scoffed at his friend's words. "It's repulsive."

Repulsive. You weren't unfamiliar with those kind of words coming from him. He almost used them on a daily basis; when students ran past him in the hallways, when Crabbe and Goyle stuffed their faces with pastries at dinner, when first years cried after Draco had just threatened to hex them, or when Potter just so much did as breathe. What you were unfamiliar with, was him using those words in connection with you, and it made you feel sick to your stomach.

A tap on your shoulder ripped you from your thoughts, making you flinch. You turned around to see Pansy standing behind you with her hands up.

"Woah there, didn't mean to scare you." She laughed, waiting for a response that didn't come.

Pansy cleared her throat as she re-adjusted the bag on her shoulders. "So, do you think Draco and Blaise are here already?" Shit. It totally slipped your mind that the reason you came here was the study date the four of you agreed on having before dinner. You watched Pansy silently as she took a few steps forward to look around the bookshelf you two were standing next to.

"Found them!"

You didn't care to move, all you wanted to do was just turn around and get out of there, dreading to face Draco after what he'd just said. Still, you followed Pansy to where the boys were sitting.

Your heartbeat skyrocketed when you spotted the blonde already looking in your direction, the annoyance in his face very much visible. Your eyes met for a moment before you felt the urge to look away, feeling small under his gaze.

Confusion was growing inside of Draco when you took the free space on the couch next to Blaise and not him like you usually did. It felt weird doing so, but you were too embarrassed to sit next to him right now, knowing that he probably wouldn't want you to anyway.

Blaise's eyes alternated between you and Draco, trying to figure out what was going on when Pansy dropped her bag with a loud thud before making herself comfortable next to Draco, grinning. "Well then, shall we begin?"

Minutes went by like hours, the only sounds being the turning of pages and the occasional scoffs coming from Pansy when she didn't understand something in the Potions book.

"Draco could you help me with th-"

"No."

Draco didn't even bother to look at the book in front of him. His eyes had been burning into you from the second you sat down next to his friend. You shifted in your seat, staring at that one sentence in your book that you were trying to read for the seventh time now, but you just couldn't focus long enough. Your cheeks were on fire, feeling utterly intimidated by your boyfriends stare.

After what felt like an eternity, Pansy and Blaise started packing up their books. Draco didn't even move a muscle.

"See you at dinner then." Blaise stated before leaving the library with Pansy by his side. You hurried to gather your stuff, trying to catch up to them, but a firm grasp on your wrist stopped you.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Draco's voice was stern, but you could still make out a hint of insecurity.

"I wasn't ignoring you, I'm just.. tired I guess? Oh and I've been having this awful headache all day and I don't really want to bother you with that so I think I should just g-"

"I'm not stupid, y/n." he cut you off. "I know when something's up with you. What is it?"

You didn't know what to say. Confronting him about what you heard would've been the mature way to handle things, but you were hurt. Hurt about the way he talked about you, and especially how he did it; behind your back. So, you removed your hand from his grasp and looked up at him. "I'll go now. I know you don't want to have me around anyway, so don't act like you care."

You left, leaving Draco completely baffled. If you wouldn't have been in such a hurry to get away, if you would've looked a little more closely, you might have seen the effect your words had on him.

He did care. A lot.

__________________________

Draco knew you probably wouldn't want him to sit next you during dinner, that's why he did exactly that. He wasn't just going to let this go, so he plopped down next to you.

Your whole body tensed up, and Draco noticed.

The poor boy was confused as ever, you could almost see his brain working with high speed, thinking of every encounter and every conversation with you he had that day, trying to figure out what in the world he's done that made you avoid him.

Confusion turned into frustration real fast when he just couldn't seem to think of anything.

"This is ridiculous, y/n." his voice was barely above a whisper, but the desperation in it was loud and clear. "Will you just tell me what the bloody hell is going on?"

Draco's eyes followed your every move as you turned to look at him. "Can we go somewhere else?" your voice was shaking and you could feel a lump forming in your throat.

He gave you a quick nod before standing up and taking your hand to lead you out of the Great Hall. Pansy called out his name when you two walked past her, but Draco simply waved her off.

The laughter and chatting of students stopped when the doors closed behind you. He led you a little further away with your hand still in his. You felt your heart pounding in your chest when he turned to look at you, it was beating so fast you were scared he might hear it.

"Will you talk to me now?" his thumb started caressing the top of your hand when he saw how nervous you were, as an attempt to calm you down. "I need to know what's going on, did I do something?" "What happened?"

Tears fiilled your eyes when you replayed the words in your head.

"She's pathetic."

"Like a bloody dog."

"Y/n?" his soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

"I heard what you said." You tried your hardest to keep your composure. "In the library, about how I'm always with you and how pathetic you think that is." Your voice broke at that last part.

Draco's face fell when he realized that you thought his words were directed to you. Thinking about how hurt by his words you must've been made his heart break.

"Darling." he breathed out, gentle hands cupping your cheeks as he used his thumb to wipe away the single tear that fell from your eye. "I wasn’t talking about you."

You furrowed your brows as confusion replaced the hurt look on your face. "Huh?"

"It was Parkinson I was talking about, she's been bothering me the whole bloody day."

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment, the color of your cheeks became a crimson red, which you tried to hide as best as you could by covering your face with both of your hands.

Draco let out a laugh as he took your hands into his and pulled you into a hug, his head resting on yours. "I'm so so stupid, oh my god." your voice was muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

"Sometimes." he chuckled while rubbing soothing circles on your back with his hands. "You should know better than to think I’d ever talk about you like this, love."

"I know, I'm sorry." you lifted you head and looked up at him through wet eyelashes, hands resting flat against his upper body.

"Merlin y/n, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you." he planted a kiss on your forehead, lingering for a second before you buried your face back into his chest. Your arms draped around his waist, holding fast onto him.

The creaking of doors made Draco's head shoot up, looking in the direction of approaching footsteps. His face turned into a sneer as soon as he saw Pansy turn around the corner, looking for him.

"Draco why aren't you in th- oh. Am I interrupting something?" Her gaze landed on you.

You felt the muscles in Draco's arms flex around your body as he pulled you even closer into his chest like he was trying to protect you from her prying eyes.

"For fucks sake, Parkinson. Get lost." he snapped at her, voice brimming with venom. This was all it took for Pansy to leave as fast as she came.

Draco scoffed before he let one arm fall to his side, leaving the other one around your waist to keep you close.

"Pathetic, isn't she?" You leaned into him, smiling. Draco couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips at your statement.

"Hey" he grabbed your chin, lifting it so you were looking at him. "I love you, always will. You know that, right?"

You gave him a reassuring nod before planting a kiss on his lips. "Love you too, Dray. More than anything."

[buckybarnesdiaries]

white wolf: “the show must go on”

first part — second part

third part — fourth part (soon)

© gif credits to the author, i found it on google. if you're the author lemme know your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Sam helps Bucky to ask you out for a date and it’s a disaster, but he gets it.

word count: 1'9k.

warnings/tags: none. bucky being so innocent gives me life. + he being so damn cute as always.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Have plans with your girl tonight?”

Bucky clicked his tongue, putting down the weight to the holder, not turning to Sam still doing squats and an awkward noise out of breath. His partner couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and giggle while shaking his head, fast enough to steal the soldier's clean towel before he reached it.

“She's not my girl”.

“Not yet, you mean, uh?” He joked then, using the clothing like a whip to hit the metal arm. “But, you have plans or not?”

“Yeah, we have plans”. Bucky admitted eventually, glancing at Sam also stealing his bottle of water. “She invited me to watch a movie”.

It was the innocent and unworried tone of voice from him that made Sam choke, cough, and laugh at once.

“What?”

“Oh, man… Can't believe you're sinful enough to do what we do but too innocent to not see what that means”.

“It means we're gonna watch a movie”.

Bucky was confused at the laughter, trying to understand what he was referring to as he rested his back against the wall and crossed both arms over his chest. Expecting anything else from his wise friend.

“This is the twenty-first century, you ancient. We don't watch movies”.

“What d�� What do you mean? You have Netflix, HBO, Prime Video… What's the point?”

Sam was deadpanned, staring in silence at the soldier, not believing what his ears were hearing. “We, guys, don't watch movies with girls, even less when they are the ones inviting us”.

Bucky squinted at him, tilting his head like a lost poppy would do, not being able to read between lines. His partner gasped exasperated, running a hand up and down his face.

“You know, man? Sometimes I feel alone, not having anyone to laugh with about that forties' manners of yours. Should I call Sarah, maybe?”

“Cut the show”. He hissed standing up and passing him away.

“Oh, no, no, no… the show has just started, man, and I have my popcorn ready”.

Bucky had been beating around the bush the whole day, trying to let it out of his mind. Of course, it was something that would happen sooner or later, and —more than of course— he wanted it to happen. The mere fact of thinking about you and him, flesh against flesh, hearing you moaning his name and making you feel good caused him goosebumps and an awkward sensation beneath his black jeans. Suddenly, swallowing saliva turned impossible, biting his lower lip while ringing the intercom of your apartment. Your response didn't last more than a couple of seconds, opening the door downstairs and waiting for him at the entrance of your apartment.

The butterflies fluttered within your bellies when Bucky stepped out of the lift, showing you that charming smile that could make you kill anyone who dared to erase it from his face.

“Trying to get me drunk?” You joked as he raised the bottle of red wine in his left hand.

“Maybe?”

“Missed you today”. You whispered at the soft kiss on your lips and his arm getting wrapped around your lower waist.

“So did I”. He sighed, sounding a little tired, caressing your nose with his.

Yesterday he talked to you about a routine medical check-up the government used to do every six months until he earned his pardon. Four hours of intense exercise to make sure the supersoldier serum was still doing its effect, as he started to feel somewhat tired since he stayed in Wakanda. For Bucky, it was really easy to open up himself with you and talk about his past and some of the things he did. And he didn't complain when you helped him to take off his leather jacket, watching him rubbing his left shoulder.

“I, uh… also was this morning with Sam. Training”. He told you, following you to your kitchen to find a couple of glasses. Turning at him, you couldn't help but raise an incredulous eyebrow. “Don't look at me like that… I know to perfection what you're thinking”.

“You're a telepath now?”

“God, no. I have enough with the voices inside my head, to hear someone's else”. He chuckled resting against the fridge. “But you're very expressive and I was trained to read body language”.

“So, what am' thinking?” You asked driven by curiosity, entertained on opening the bottle of wine.

“Look at this guy… He looks hotter than a barbecue”.

You broke into a loud laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed the drink and the glasses. “Not even close, Sergeant”.

“Liar”. He blurted into your face, passing him away to the living room where the Thai takeaway was waiting for the two of you.

“I'm not lying! You're a lousy body reader”.

“So… you can do it better, uh?”

“Didn't say so, but… yeah”. You replied, placing the wine and the glasses on the coffee table next to the big green sofa.

“Okay, go ahead. What am 'thinking, genius?”

Standing in front of him, some inches away, you squinted at his eyes in advance of touring his posture from top to bottom with your orbs.

“Look at that girl… she's hotter than a volcano”.

“Not even closer, soldier”. Bucky repeated your words, kissing his teeth and causing you to laugh again.

“Liar”.

The night went on, enjoying your dinner and watching the first part of Scary Movie. Since Bucky told you that he loved the horror genre, you thought that it'd be a good start. As you finished the Thai dishes, you two cuddled on your sofa, and it felt nice to be embraced by his muscly arms and had your head rested on his shoulder. He had never been that happier before, imagining for a moment —staring at you by the corner of his eyes— that he wasn't a retired lethal assassin controlled by a bunch of psychos, just a guy watching a movie with his girl.

For some reason that increased his pulse, having to clear his throat as the thought dried it. You couldn't let it go, wrinkling your nose with curiosity, raising your face slightly at Bucky trying to focus on the movie, and pretending everything was going okay.

“What?” He murmured about to laugh nervously, putting his head back a couple of inches to look better at you.

“Seems like you're gonna have a heart attack, what's the matter?”

The soldier breathed heavily through his nostril, expelling all the air in a sight through his parted lips. A lower giggle escaped them as your eyes widened a little more interested in his response to your question.

“Sam… Sam said something this morning”.

There it was. Your grimace turned skeptical, sitting up to borrow the control remote and pause the movie. Turning to face him and placing an arm on the headrest, you puckered your lips in a funny gesture watching him click his tongue.

“Things are different nowadays and… y'know, we used to watch movies”.

“And that's what we're doing”.

“Yeah, but… it's like… now there are some kinds of non-speak social rules”.

You knew exactly what he was referring to and seeing him somewhat troubled and tense just made your heart melt. It wasn't that he was scared, but it almost felt like.

“Is it your first time since the forties?” You dared to ask, clearly with no intentions of making fun of him.

“I've never really… y'know, I was in my twenties when I left Brooklyn. I me— mean, 'm not stupid, okay? I've done things but not… sex like… to the whole point”. Bucky didn't have his eyes on you when he made that confession, rubbing the bridge of his nose by inertia as his nervousness increased. “And now everything… is pretty different”.

“It doesn't have to”. You just replied, stretching a hand to his right one to intertwine your fingers. “Listen, Buck… We don't have to, okay? We don't have to do anything if you're not ready. We can watch the movie and then… you can go, or you can stay to sleep with me”.

“I'd like that”.

“Leave?”

“Yeah, totally, if you excuse me, ma'am… I gotta leave” He clearly joked, about to stand up until you pushed him down to the sofa bursting in laughter. “Nah, I, uh… I mean, I'd like to sleep with you tonight”.

“I'd like too, and to wake up tomorrow morning with you”.

“Yeah, would be very awkward if you go to sleep with me and wake up with another guy in your bed”.

Bucky smirked at you, biting his upper lip before leaning to press both on yours. He couldn't believe you were being so comprehensive with him, not making any other uncomfortable questions, nor kicking his ass out of your house. At that moment, he realized he was madly in love with you, bringing you closer to himself so he could embrace you tenderly between his arms. And you let him, not wanting anything else than to be with him.

At the moment the movie finished, you both stretched your hands to the ceiling with a yawn opening your mouths. You palmed his thigh to beckoning at him, urging the soldier to follow you as you rubbed your eyes using your knuckles, a little sleepy. Turning off the lights on your way to your room, you changed your clothes for a baggy Iron Maiden's t-shirt, as he stripped himself leaving his clothes on the chair in front of your bed, only wearing a pair of black boxers at the end.

You were about to ask him which side he preferred when the words died on your tongue, glancing at him with his flesh hand over his dark grey shoulder. It was the first time you saw the vibranium arm in all its glory and Bucky gave you the impression of being embarrassed. He'd never stop surprising you with plenty of emotions for things that for you didn't have any importance actually —like the fact of not having two real arms.

“Come here”. You murmured, kneeling on the mattress and palming the other lateral, observing every one of his actions till lying next to him, in the middle of the gloom of your room.

Covering both of you with the sheets and turning on your sides to face each other, Bucky took the initiative of wrapping you close to his chest, as he placed his head on your pillow. He couldn't help but take a soft breath from your heavenly smell impregnated in, provoking a smile to grow on your lips. Surrounding his neck with your arms, you sunk your fingers in his short hair, gently caressing his scalp while you started to spread tender short kisses all around his face.

“This feels good”. He purred with such a pleased tone of voice, closing his eyes as he adventured his warm hand under your shirt to draw invisible patterns on your back.

“So good”. You affirmed, peppering his cheek with a bunch of noisy smooches.

Bucky squeezed you between his grip, hiding his face into the gap of your shoulder and neck, causing you goosebumps because of his exhalation against your skin. He was comfortable being that close, with no distance separating your chests and your legs intertwined in a bundle. You saw how relaxed he was when he pulled his head back to the pillow, noses touching and his eyelids closed.

“Good night, Buck”. You whispered, still feeling his caresses on your back, leaning to kiss him one last time.

“Good night, doll”.

a / n: i hope you have enjoyed the fluffiness of these three chapters because the fourth is gonna be... chaotic.

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[diedbutterflies69]

Leaving Pluto -

Lee Know smut imagine.

Contains: soft dom!lee know, praise mixed with teasing, slight choking. Arguing slightly. Fingering, oral $ex

Minors don't interact.

Working past the work hours cause he didn't have you waiting for him to come home.

It was another exhausting night for Minho. Being away from you was killing him slowly. A small fight that happened four days ago was the reason for you to not contact him. You wanted to find a new workplace, cause you were too tired of your co workers talking behind your back how cheap of a woman you were just because you were dating a male with slight higher position than you. According to Minho you should have ignored thier words or come with most savage comeback possible or simply talk sweetly and be friends with them. But you being you picked up the option which he never expected. Your resignation letter.

For Minho you were a deadly drug, Without you he can't live. He was addicted to feeling of being loved.

Being bad with words he never really poured out his heart to you. He fell for you when he was at his peak of self-hatred, he still can't understand how you were able to see behind the proud man who earned his position all by himself was a hiding his depressed emo kid who just wished to feel something.

Minho can't lose you. He exactly knew where you were. But he didn't have the guts to face you, he was scared because his words were no less than knifes. He was tired of himself being always a jerk to you and you forgiving him everytime because

Minho was your everything too.

You both weren't in a toxic relationship just were different.

He believed in facing problem and you believed in running away from it .

Shutting down the laptop he picked his coat and stuff. Minho made his mind, he can't just sit ideal and expect you to come back to him . Your apartment wasn't miles away from him but here he was still hesitating to start the car and and Stay with you.

Finally gathering all his shattered courage and starting the engine Minho finally headed to his world.

Standing infront of your apartment and again trying to find his lost courage Minho finally rung the door bell and it didn't even took 10 secs before the door opened.

"What you want", you Asked him. Your voice colder than ice. You expected Minho to come begging at your door anyways as you understand what kind of devil was residing in his mind, but now you were tired , tired of how Minho only knew how to regret over the mess he created himself. Looking in his eyes, your whole tough demonor almost shaken. You hated to see Minho in that state.

"umm, can I come in, please Y/N?"

He gave you a small smile and your heart melted, no one knows how much you adored that man he always just pretend to have a tough front, and right now it was crumbling again.

Sighing heavily you let him in.

"come in" you said.

"Y/N, Listen to me please, I overreacted it was my fault I -I apologize I was hitted hard by fact that I would be unable to see you everyday in that suffocating place, I--I am really sorry and please I wasn't trying to control you, I was being selfish I--I-I--"

" will you stop now?" You asked him cutting him off, whatever anger you had disappeared the moment he expressed his heart truly but you just wanted to know one thing.

"Do you love me Minho?", You asked him you didn't understand what exact feelings he had for you, was it love, or desire to be love, or just a simple fuck. Minho's face full of confusion, you caught him off-guard. But he answered confidently no ounce of hesitation in his voice.

"I love you, I love you so much" His voice so sincere like he was practicing his wedding vows.

"Then fucking act like a normal guy in love for atleast 1 second, who the hell takes almost whole week to apologize?? Is your ego more powerful than your love, dating in office place was so damn hard for me those annoying rats comments were giving me headache and I live with you, do you forgot that??? Fucking stupid crazy ?"

You ranted , felt like the weight from your shoulders finally lifted you just wanted his genuine emotions, living peacefully without arguing like cats and dogs.

Minho was hanging his head low in guilt knowing how much damaged he has caused , that you started to doubt his love.

"I love you so much sorry please forgive me , I will try to get better", Minho said he always meant what he said. looking straight into eyes he come closer to you.

"You should have come sooner, I missed your stupid ass", you said speaking from your heart. The 5 days argument finally fucking itself.

Minho smiled at you and said," I was too afraid of lover, you know she is a whole different person when angry." Pouting like a kid, he was too irresistible for you and you were deprived from his touch,his kisses and whole him.

"You talk to much", You said and locked your lips with Minho for a desperate deep kiss, which he happily reciprocated back with equal desperation and love.

" you are the hottest girl I have ever seen" he said and pecked your lips lifting you up in his arms and going straight to your bedroom. Both of you looking at each other with so much respect love and affection. Reaching your bedroom Minho slowly put you down smiling at you and whispering "let me show you how much love I have for you", whimpering desperately at his words that sended shivers down your spine no matter how many times he had fucked you , you can't get used to his dominant persona.

Minho's hand wondering inside your hoodie and cupping your breasts as you didn't wore any bra his fingers softly pinching your buds not in a rough way. Tonight he decided to go as gentle as possible.

"Stop teasing, Minho", you moaned desperately , tugging on Minho's shirt and attempting to free his god sculpted body. One thing Minho loved the most about you , you not being shy and addressing whatsoever you felt. Minho smiled playfully at you and saying out " patience darling, I am gonna make you feel good" This man is gonna be death of me you thought .

Minho removed your hoodie and freed your upper body, cold air immediately making your buds hard again, his hand resting on your waist and one to support himself at top of you , he started kissing your neck And leaving a very small hickey as you didn't liked him marking you at visible places, you were too lazy to conceal it. Going down and cupping your right breast so tenderly your breath getting heavier at Minho's slow yet sensual ministrations, he was different from usual, definitely more soft.

But him being slow was torture to your core.

"Please", you whimpered bucking up your hips to Minho's body in response he grabbed your thighs his hands, caressing your inner thighs dangerously close to your heat, you were already wet from all the foreplay , your pussy begging to get destroyed by your lover.

Minho removed your shorts , now your slight wet panties being the only cloth on your body on the other hand Minho being Fully dressed his black shit wrinkled from your tight grip which he unbuttoned hastily after freeing your body from those useless panties throwing somewhere in room.

"because of who your pussy is soo wet , love?" He said looking straight in your eyes his fingers resting at your entrance, waiting for your answer before doing anything else. A fucking teaser.

"Because of you Min, do something please", your voice coming out much softer and desperate than you thought.

Finally giving you a big smile, Minho entered his fingers in your mouth covered in your saliva then without warning he shoved his two fingers in your hole and moving them at a extremely slow pace his touch was so powerful today even if it was different he never was a slow going man but you weren't complaining.

Minho went down to your thigh level, eyes looking straight at your pussy , without removing his fingers , he attacked your pussy with his mouth, sucking the entrance and tongue going straight inside you, fingers and the soft muscle making it difficult for you to not moan and just keep screaming his name till your lungs burn.

His nose brushing to your your clit , and fingers finally picking up pace , you can literally feel Minho's smirk whenever you called his name.

"I. ... I am close", you said followed by a high pitched moan, hearing you Minho's own cock almost bursting , he added a third finger and started sucking you more aggressively.

"I am cumin..." You felt your body on cloud nine, your high washing over you, juices flowing from you and Minho not letting them fall, till the last drop he kept eating you out and fingering, you almost crying from overstimulation.

"How was it babe? Felt good?", Minho asked you even knowing the answer that he literally made you see the stars alone with his fingers and tongue, detaching himself from your lower body and again looking at you , You got up ready to give him something in return, he loved your mouth and loved how you gagged whenever his tip touched back of your throat, your hands reached his belt but he stopped you .

"This, ain't about me babe", Minho said, resulting in you looking at him in pure frustration, giving you a sly smile as he lied you back down on bed he continued. " I mean suck me some other day, now I just wanna come inside your small pussy"

Minho have a great way of making you lose your mind completely.

He unbuckled his belt and removing his belt so slowly like he was giving you a whole strip show. After finally freeing his member from all the restrictions Minho's mouth again finding your lips as he slowly entered inside you .

"Fuck, why you always feel so good", Minho grunted heavily and started moving at a slow pace, his hand cupping your breasts and lips hungrily kissing you."you are so fucking beautiful love",He said , his voice containing pure sincerity and sensuality. The way he was rolling his hips was driving you insane, even the kiss was so sensual, his tongue inside exploring your mouth . Minho's body so close to you ,your slight bloated stomach occassionally coming in contact with his sculpted abs, he always made you feel beautiful , sexy even when days he was rough his degradation never made you felt insecure and today he was being so gentle, so soft and his praises making your throbbing heart melt. You love Minho and Minho loves you.

"Minho, please you.. you feel so damn.. good", you said in between your deep breaths and screams. Minho's lips now giving you hickeys and you didn't really wanted to stop him, his mouth felt so damn good. His pace being the same slow torture to you.

"I feel good too babe, inside you", Minho said his grunts getting more louder signalling he was close too. His hand now intervining with yours in a tight grip as if he you were his last straw to sanity.

"can I come, please?", You asked as of an habit , Minho was a hella kinky man and he had taught you so many things inside bedroom and asking for his permission before Cumming was one. He nodded at your request, something which happened once in a blue moon you were glad as wasn't edging you. His thrusts getting faster as he chased down his own high.

Leaving many screams and moans, you cummed around his cock feeling like being top of the world. " You are mine", he said before kissing your forehead and those intervened hand before empting himself inside you.

"I am yours, always yours", you replied to Minho, his forehead resting against yours both giving each other a faint and tired smile.

He scorched beside you and engulfed you in a tight hug , caressing your sweaty forehead and removing the hair that were sticking to it because of the passionate activities you both just did.

Comfortable Silence spreading inside your room. Before Minho finally spoke again.

"I am sorry, you gonna come back to our house right?" Minho apologizing again and being oblivion to the fact that you had even forget the argument. You also loved the way he referred his house to 'ours'. Those small things which he do without any intentions meant so much to you.

"Stop saying sorry It wasn't only yours alone fault too, I too overeacted, sorry" you said to him and snuggling inside his neck . He quickly reacted to the last word. Minho hated the way you thought it was your fault.

"No babe, I am sorry, don't apologize", Minho again saying sorry, Guess it was endless loop of taking the blame. You ignored his words having no energy to argue .

"well, so are we gonna have a bath, We need to go back to our home in morning", you said Minho and him being too aware of hidden meaning of your words.

"Okay babe , let's do 69 there"

Thanks for reading .

Beautiful reader.

[pretoriafics]

Therapy sessions with the devil

I'd did this request yesterday on my Portuguese blog, and I thought that you guys would love it!

Anonymous asks: Y/N is a therapist who works for Vought and is doing a few evaluations on the Super.

Word count: 1.806 Contain: Therapist!Reader x Homelander Warnings: Mention of sexual violence, mention of serial killers, mention of cases of children with psychopathy, mental disorders. +16 only Versão em português aqui  PART 2 THE BOYS MASTERLIST

Your profession was gratifying.

You loved the idea of helping people, getting to know each other better, and getting them to learn to deal with life's challenges. For you, being a kind of "confidant", where people could talk about their lives without any judgments, was an honor and your purpose. You believed that it would make the world a better place.

However, it also had its burdens. Some things were difficult to hear, even for you with all your knowledge and professional background. Patients who suffered from sexual violence, for example, demanded of you a stomach that you were not always able to have. It was something you talked to your therapist about, and you kept a mantra in mind: After all, you were still human, and it was okay to feel that way.

And when Vought invited you to work as a therapist for The Seven, you went nuts. It was the chance of a lifetime!

Or, at least, this was what you thought at the beginning.

It was not uncommon for you to hear things that made your stomach a little sick, just like when The Deep told you about the way he “welcomed” Starlight. You felt nauseous but, on the outside, remained impassive, just watching him as a silent request to continue to talk.

All of them were, simply, not only media products but also puppets of the advertising world. You already had some political patients, and in fact, you thought The Seven was a similar case: Both went to that market with the intention, many times, to help people. However, they ended up corrupted in the middle of the road, forgetting their whole purpose in helping others.

You saw a point in common between The Seven: Everyone, with perhaps the exception of Starlight, was too worried about their own egos to be real heroes. They were all too narcissistic.

But Homelander was the worst of them.

The childhood phase was the most important part of a person's life. A traumatic childhood could lead to a troubled adult, as in the case of Mary Bell and Beth Thomas. Homelander's case was no different: his non-affectionate childhood, being raised as a laboratory rat, was the bigger reason to make him that kind of man.

Although at the same time you were fascinated about to study a mind like that - since one of the reasons why you did psychology would be to unveil the secrets of the human mind - each therapy session was daunting and made you rethink your job at Vought.

In short, you were interviewing a serial killer. Easily one of the most cruel and unhealthy.

"Good morning, Homelander." Your voice was soft, just like the smile you gave to the super who just sat on the couch.

"Good morning, Doctor." He returned the smile to you, but the smile on his own way: The corners of your mouth pulled to the side in a smile that you recognized as fake.

"So..." You put your hands on your knee, looking at him with the best receptive look you could pretend. There, in that office, your sessions with Homelander made you feel you deserved an Oscar "How was your week?"

“Well…” He lay down on the couch, his blue eyes staring at the ceiling, and his hands joined in front of his stomach “Nothing new. In fact, he had a little incident with Maeve. Sometimes she is so… pathetic. ”

"What happened?"

It took a while for Homelander to actually get some confidence in you. In fact, he only started telling you things in detail when he realized he could get something out of the sessions. They were productive to him, they made him think. You didn't know if you were thanking God for getting something out of him, or if you should cursing yourself because of the horrors he tells you.

"Maybe you saw something about the 37 Flight on the news."

"The one who had been captured by the terrorists?"

"Exactly! Maeve and I had to rescue the plane. We managed to take down the terrorists, but when I killed the last one, in the Pilot's cabin, I hit the plane's controls with the lasers. And then, the flight was doomed. I told Maeve that our job was done and we should leave, but she was reluctant. He wanted me to save the passengers! ” He laughed, but a natural one. "Can you believe that?"

Oh, it was going to be a long therapy session...

"And what happened next?"

“What did she want me to do? That I fly 137 times from the plane to land? Ah, pathetic, pathetic! ” He shook his head, clearly humorous. "Now, just imagine: You are on a flight with 137 people shouting 'Help, Homelander!', While your stupid partner insists that you should do something to save everyone. I was losing patience so I threatened everyone with my eyes, and they finally settled down. I don't blame them, I mean, they are so vulnerable. They are bugs! ” He looked at you, the corners of his mouth pulled in a fake smile. "No offense."

Homelander was a cold-blooded killer. Not only, but like Ted Bundy, he was a narcissist. He liked the feeling of power that invaded his body when he saw that people feared him, and when he felt that he had the power to decide whether that person would live or not. He didn't mind if killing people just for fun was against the law. Homelander didn't care about the law or any kind of rules. Furthermore, just as Bundy believed he was fully capable of defending himself in his court's judgment and did not need lawyers, Homelander thought he was an incarnate God walking among the 'bugs', simply because he had powers.

"And how do you feel about Maeve?"

“She bothered me a little with the drama on the plane, but that's okay. I am sure that after I spoke to the journalists, near the wreckage of the flight, she understood. This is all going to be an excellent opportunity to make our presence in the army happen. ”

A sociopath.

Empathetic behaviors aren't part of him. He was unable to have that feeling. Self-centered, Homelander was unable to love. The relationship he had with Stiwell, for example, was far from loving. He didn't feel it, quite the opposite: Homelander had a feeling of possession with her. She was his, and nobody else's.

A doubt hammered in your head: Homelander was intending to drop the plane? Your stomach was upset, you felt bad about that therapy session. How could Vought leave someone like him in The Seven?

The answer was simple: They didn't care. Homelander was profitable, and that was all that mattered.

That was one of the times when you thanked God that Homelander was self-centered enough to lie on the couch and just think about your own life, instead of analyzing you and realizing that you were completely terrified. It was as if a misstep, a wrong word, was going to cost his life.

And you would end that today.

You conducted the therapy session normally. In the end, you shook hands with Homelander as you always did and closed the door. Tears invaded your face as you thought of each life that was lost in vain on that flight, and, worse, you were sure that Maeve would tell you about the flight at her therapy session, early next week. In an attempt to calm down, you took some coffee and sat down in front of your MacBook. There, sipping coffee, you wrote your resignation letter.

Alright. You were free.

Or at least this was what you thought.

 * * *

Another week has started, and the fact that you worked at Vought made you get a more comfortable office, in addition to increasing your service price. You were ending your day. Your last patient had left the office, and you were about to go home when you heard a familiar voice from your couch.

"I miss you in the tower."

Homelander looked at you with his pairs of sick blue eyes, his fake smile, and his murderous hands behind his body. He was standing next to the couch, and you felt your whole body freeze. A lump formed in your throat, and your hands vibrated in pure dread.

So he would kill you there? In your office?

Trying to take control of the situation, you faked a slight smile.

“Sorry, Homelander. I didn't saw you here. Need something?"

"Actually, I do." He started walking towards you slowly. "I didn't want to end our sessions, so I came to ask you what our new schedule is going to be."

You narrowed your eyes.

"I thought Vought was going to hire someone else to work with The Seven in my place."

“In fact, they put an incompetent in your place. I really prefer that we continue where we left off. ” He stopped in front of you with his smile, his eyes emanating pure insanity "I like our therapy sessions."

“I'm glad that you like my job and that you appreciate our results, Homelander” You gave him a smile, but inside you were still in pure dread “But I don't have appointments available. My schedule filled up easily after I came to this new office. ”

“Oh, but I'm sure you can fit me in your schedule. I can pay you well. ”

How to say no to Homelander without putting your life at risk?

You walked over to your tablet, on your desk. You took it in hand and slid your finger on the screen, analyzing awhile. You didn't need him to tell you that you would be paid well. In fact, you were fully aware of that. The point was that you could exchange all the money in the world to be at peace, without having to deal with Homelander. Without much choice, you concluded that you would reserve a single day for your therapy sessions with him. That way, your head wouldn't get so tired when you still had to deal with other patients.

“Are you available on Friday morning? At nine."

He nodded, giving the same smile he did when he achieved something. One of pure contentment.

"Of course!"

"Great so." You typed 'Homelander' in the space corresponding to the hour. You put the tablet down on the table, next to your MacBook “There, it's done. Friday, at nine in the morning. ”

“Ah, perfect! Thank you. Have a good night."

"Good night, Homelander."

He walked over to your balcony. With a jump, he flew through the sky. You lay on your couch, terrified. Would you never get rid of him?

All that was left for you now was to be the therapist of the incarnate Devil.

[topazy]

The Fierce And Broken

2.04

Masterlist

“You found me then.”

Murphy nodded and sunk down to the ground next to you. It had seemed like a good idea to hide out in the library, it was closed off and you assumed nobody would look for you there. But you had forgotten that nobody knew you the way John Murphy does.

Murphy frowned seeing you so upset. “What’s going on Alba? You have been acting strange for weeks.”

You shook your head and wiped away fallen tears as he contained to stare. You took a couple deep breaths before finally being able to speak, “it’s nothing...I’m just being stupid.”

“You’re not stupid Al, and thats the problem.” Murphy put his arm around your shoulder, “who’s ass do I need to kick for this?”

His comment made you chuckle, “no one.” You wiped away more tears before smiling into his hug. “I just feel so tired always pretending, you know? And I don’t know how to make it right. I just feel broken.”

Murphy brushed a strand of hair out of your face, you could see the look of concern on his face. “What do you mean by broken?”

“I just-” You struggled to find the words to express how you were feeling. “I look at girls John.”

“So?” He scoffed, obviously not understanding what you were getting at.

“No I mean I look at girls. I look at them the same way I should look at boys...” Pausing you thought about your next choice of words, “I like girls.”

Murphy placed a soft kiss to your cheek he had been stroking a moment previously. “Yeah girls are pretty hot.”

You smiled into his embrace. John was the only person you had worried about treating you differently when you realised that you had started to get crushed on girls, but the truth was he didn’t care. And you’d never been so grateful he was your friend.

You woke to the sounds of a woman yelling, “I need a saline and a pressure dressing. I’m going to need to check her hip bones in a moment.”

“I’m on it.”

You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the harsh light of the room. Doctor Griffin was leaning over you, she smiled when she noticed you waking up. “You gave us quite a scare, I’m glad to see you awake Y/N.”

“Where am I?” You asked groggily.

“Camp Jaha,” another voice said.

Facing the doorway you could see Octavia smiling as walked towards you, with her arms stretching out. She pulled you into a tight hug. “You had me so worried Al! I thought you had died.”

You held onto her tightly, “me? I thought the blast from the rocket had got you.” Pulling back from the hug you whined at the sharp pain in your arm. “Oh Jesus, I did forget about the pain.”

“Careful, you’ll end up pulling your IV out.” Jackson said, before explaining he needed to dress a deeper cut on your back. You nodded for him to start and don’t your best not to cry as the feeling of nippiness started to spread across your bare skin.

Octavia squeezed your hand. “Clarke told us what happened. The mountain men...how they are taking bone marrow and blood from us and grounders, from you.”

“Some of our people are still in there.” You paused for a moment to try and think about what else happened, “Anya is dead. She was going to set up a meeting with us and her commander, but she’s gone.”

Octavia kneeled down to your level. “Hey, we still have a chance.” She squeezed your hands again, “you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to come in and see you. I know Murphy will be thrilled when he knows you are awake.”

“Murphy?” You asked confused, after hanging Bellamy and shooting Raven you thought he would have been banished again. God, Raven. “Murphy is still in camp? And Raven’s alive?”

“He sure is, and Raven is alive and waiting to see you.” Once Jackson was finished Octavia leaned in closer to you, “I’m glad I caught you before I left.”

“Where are you going?”

Octavia watched to make sure nobody else was paying attention to your conversation. “Raven is turning the electric fence off so me Bellamy, and Clarke can leave-” she stopped talking when Abby walked back into the room. “Murphy and Finn are actually out looking for our people now.”

You played along so Abby wouldn’t grow suspicious. Octavia shared a knowing look with you, the thought of her going out into the wild scared but you knew Bellamy would keep her safe. You mouthed ‘be careful’ before she left.

“So,” Abby said, stepping in front of you with a smile. “We are going to look at your hip once Jackson is back, I’ll need to check for any signs of infection. I’m honestly surprised you managed to walk that far considering what was done to you.”

“Clarke helped,” you shrugged. A look of pride spread across the older woman's face. Clarke wasn’t your favourite person but she did save you from drowning, “Anya also helped. She saved me and Clarke a couple of times...what they are doing to the grounders is worse than what’s happening to us, to me. It’s barbaric.”

Abby gave you a sympathetic smile as Jackson entered the room. You dropped the subject and leaned back into the table.

—

Groaning you sat up, your original plan was to go look for your friends but between the pain and sleep deprivation you had nodded off. Sighing you looked around the room for your clothes but couldn’t see them. The gown you were wearing wasn’t exactly practical.

Opening the door to the hallway you looked around for anybody that could help but it was empty. Hearing footsteps you decided to walk in that direction when you heard Abby’s voice.

“Did you know about this?”

“No.”

You recognised the other voice instantly and smiled. It was Raven.

“Tell me where they went and you won't be in trouble.” The aggression in Abby's voice surprised you, she had always been so nice when you had previously met her.

“Abby, I...”

“Someone let them through the fence. Someone gave them guns.”

Oh shit. It’s finally clicked, Abby knows Raven helped her daughter and the others escape. You walked as fast your body allowed you to before finding the door to the room they were in. You caught your breath before opening the door.

“I don’t know what you’re talk-”

You let out a gasp as you opened the door and saw Abby slapping Raven across the face. What the fuck. Abby stepped back from the brunette, “She thinks that because of what she's been through she's changed, but she's still just a kid.”

“You’re wrong, Abby. She stopped being a kid the day you sent her down here to die.”

Abby finally noticed you standing at the doorway and cleared her throat before giving you a fake smile, she obviously didn’t think you had seen. “Y/N, how are you holding up?”

As she spoke Raven turned around to face you, and you could see the red mark on her cheek. It took everything inside you not to curse the doctor out for hurting Raven. “Uh,” you knew from the look your friend was giving you she didn’t want you to say anything. “I don’t know where my clothes are.”

“Oh of course,” Abby clasped her hands together. “Octavia took them earlier and I’m afraid she didn’t tell me where they were placed, and she’s busy at the moment. I can-”

“I have spare clothes Alba can wear until we find hers,” Raven said quietly.

Abby nodded and exited the room, once you were alone you pulled Raven into a hug. You were afraid to say anything knowing that your voice would break. You were concentrating so hard on not crying that you didn’t notice the leg brace Raven had on until you stepped back.

Raven gave you a soft smile before, “I thought you were goner Al.”

“Likewise,” you moved to get a better look at her cheek. “I can’t believe she hit you.”

“It’s fine Alba, I don’t care about it. What I care about is your back.”

For the first time since being taken by the mountain men you didn’t feel that everything was doomed, knowing that two of your friends were safe was enough to bring a little bit of light back into the darkness.

“Come on, let’s get you out of that horrendous gown.”

—

“I can’t believe you are staying in a tent, they should have found you a room inside. If not because of your leg then at least because of all the work you do for them.”

Raven laughed at the comment as she handed you clothes. You ripped the gown off and happily threw it to the ground and shimmed into a pair of dark jeans and pulled on a clean top. Opening your mouth to thank Raven again you noticed the way she was staring down at her leg. You sat down on the bed next to her, “Reyes?”

You could see her lip trembling as she glanced up, “I have nerve damage from the gunshot.”

“I’m so sorry Raven, I swear I’m going to kill Murphy when I get my hands on him.” It still didn’t feel real to me that Murphy was capable of hurting someone that much. “Whatever you need I’ll be at your beck and call.”

“Careful you might regret saying that one day,” she chuckled. Raven’s smile faded when she focused at your waist, the brunette placed her hand by your bruised hip. You hadn’t noticed the top was ruffled up at one side, her fingers lightly rubbed against the top of your bruise. “What happened Al?”

You shrugged, “It’s a little fuzzy. The last thing I remember is injecting you with coagulant, Anya tried to kill us, then we blasted off.”

“Then the mountain men came.”

“Yeah they came and took most of us. I’m glad I got out but I still feel guilty for not trying to convince others to leave with us.”

Raven gave you a sympathetic smile. “Don’t do that Al, don’t punish yourself for the pain somebody else has caused.”

You were lost for words, Raven made basic sentences sound so poetic.

“What-what did they do to you in Mount weather?”

“I remember a horrible drilling noise, then waking up to a man called Dante Wallace leaning over me. He told me some bullshit then I escaped with Clarke shortly after.”

Raven looked unimpressed, “that’s it? I want to know everything that happened.”

Nodding you began explaining the full story of how you escaped, you tried your best not to laugh as Raven’s facial expressions that kept changing. She seemed particularly interested in how you got every deep cut and bruise. “I hope Clarke manages to convince the commander to agree to a truce.”

“I hope so.” You shuffled further back onto the bed so you could lie down. Raven gave you an amused look as you made yourself more comfortable, then It dawned on you that this wasn’t your tent. “Fancy having a roommate Reyes? At least until I get my own tent.”

She grinned before laying down next to you on the small bed, “I think that could work.”

There were still so many things you wanted to discuss with Raven but it wasn’t the right time. It was still daylight outside but you were both exhausted. You couldn’t stop yawning, and could tell how strained your friend was. Raven had heavy bags underneath her eyes most likely caused by stress of her leg injury. You wished more than anything you could take that pain away from her. Her ‘get on with it’ attitude amazed you considering the situation she was in.

Even if it was impossible for you to physically take her pain away, you could always try and distract her. “Reyes?”

“Hmm?”

“What's it like to spacewalk?”

[cas-backwards-tie]

CopyCat

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Request: prompts “don’t be afraid, trust me.” and  i’ll be here, no matter what.” from the misc sentences. Can Five and the reader have a moment like Luther and Allison did in S2E10? Where the reader tries to use her powers to fight Lila but she uses them against her and she almost dies but Five helps her out like Luther did with Allison. Basically a loving and protective Five and make it fluffy af please thank you!

Words: 2,310

Warnings: Cursing, Near-Death Experiences, Fighting, Anxiety, Angst.

A/N: For @alexa135​ . I really hope you enjoy this! I decided to give the reader water-based powers. OH! I forgot but this should go without saying considering the request but there will be spoilers for the season 2 finale!

“What the hell happened? What was that?” Luther asks with a groan as Five helps him up.

“She must have redirected Vanya’s energy wave,” Five thinks aloud, trying to piece the puzzle together in his mind while simultaneously remaining present in the fight.

“Yeah, I know, but how?” He voices the question they’re all bound to have once this damned fight is over. The broken fireplace shifts, bricks beginning to topple. Five springs into action.

“Luther watch out!” He yells, pushing him out of the way, tons of bricks falling on top of Five and completely burying him.

“Five!” The scream comes from the tattered house, causing your eyes to shoot open.

After Lila had sent an energy wave blasting in your direction, it sent you flying across the farm. Luckily Harlan’s ability had caused it to snow, and snow is made of water, therefore allowing you to collect snow and form it into a landing pad cushy enough to prevent major injury.

The cold wind creates an ominous whistle in the air as you struggle to push yourself out of the snowy cocoon. Once you’re on your feet, it’s a race against time. Is it? Oh, God. The thoughts in the back of your mind run rampant as your heart pounds against your chest, heart already aching at the dreadful thought: Five is dead.

Just as you arrive at the surprisingly still intact front door of the house, you throw it open only for your eyes to widen. Luther’s thrown through the wall of the house by none other than Lila, something that causes alarm. Not only was she able to create an energy wave, but she has super-strength too? Before you can react, she’s stepping through the hole and out of the house.

Allison’s voice is enough to make your heart clench as your own worry only amplifies for Five. You thought he was in here, but looking around, you don’t see him anywhere. “Five?” It comes out quietly at first as if you’re afraid of receiving no answer. “Five?” You call louder, still searching for him at the entrance.

The sound of talking then fighting outside doesn’t concern you, having faith in Five’s siblings, yet, the longer it goes on and you don’t find Five, you decide it might be best to help contain Lila before resuming your search. If he really is dead… he wouldn’t want to lose anyone else.

Stepping over the rubble and pile of bricks, you finally hear Allison use her power. Relief floods you as you know she’s powerful. “I heard a rumor-”

“-you stopped breathing,” Lila returns the rumor, somehow mirroring her power. As instantly as relief flooded you, it ebbs away, replaced instead with cold and heavy terror. Three members are missing and Diego is crying for help; that’s four down and only three standing, including you.

You don’t suspect Lila’s noticed you yet, with Luther’s groveling and the sick way Lila watches, but you know what to do. This is an advantage, one of Five’s favorites in fact: the element of surprise. With the outstretch of your hands, you concentrate all your energy on boiling the water inside her body, essentially melting her from the inside out. She slowly turns in your direction and you circle around her. Lila stuffs her hands in her pockets.

“You,” it’s an accusatory tone. A chuckle leaves Lila’s lips, and she tilts her head, a wicked smile upon her lips. “You’re little shit of a boyfriend’s dead, you know?” She jokes, no sign of pain from her despite the red glow around your hands. “He’s dead, though really, you should be thanking me, you know? That murdering prick.”

“Shut up! Don’t you dare speak about him like that,” you threaten, jaw clenching as you take a step toward her, closer toward the barn. She leads you further and further away, a game of cat and mouse perhaps, a game of chicken. You’re not scared. You’ll do whatever it takes to avenge Five.

“Oh yeah? Or what?” She laughs maniacally, her eyes widening in a way only a psychopath’s would.

That’s when you notice it. You wince. There’s a twinge of pain at your side and your attention is drawn to her fists as she pulls them out of her pockets and holds them up, they’re glowing red just like yours. “You gonna bite me? Nice try, little girl, but I think you’re the only one who’ll be absolutely on fire tonight!”

Next comes the headache, the familiar feeling of dehydration. It’s the first stage. Blood rushes through your veins, pounding as you glare up at her with a look that Five’s said on many occasions could kill. You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath, but when you let it out as a loud sigh, you wobble on your feet. The previous posture you’d had slumps as you struggle to stay standing. Another telltale sign is sweat; loss of fluids. Sweat drips down your forehead, underneath your clothes, your palms struggling to stay clenched in a fist as your eyebrows furrow in her direction.

“You’re not winning this, Lila. I won’t let you get away with this!” Something bubbles inside you. It feels somewhat like gas or an upset stomach, but you know what it really is… it’s your insides boiling; melting; overheating.

“We’ll see about that,” the smug look on her face does nothing but irk you. You have absolutely no idea what Diego saw in her.

One of Luther’s cries for Allison causes you to refocus. There’s no chance in hell you’ll let Lila live through this. She’s not going to get away with killing another one of the Hargreeves siblings today! A yell tears through you as you tap into your energy, your power. Directing it toward her, the glow of your hands amplifies into a bright red. It’s working.

Lila winces and folds in half, holding her stomach. “You little- conniving- she-devil!” Whipping her head up to glare at you through her bangs, Lila grunts as her fists glow brighter. She’s using more of her power!

“Let her go! It’s me you want, isn’t it?” Five’s voice distracts you. Hope lights up in your eyes and butterflies swirl through your tummy- wait… no. That’s not it. The momentary distraction was enough for her. A spike of heat throws you off your feet and you collapse onto the ground, clutching at your stomach. 

Releasing a string of groans as you writhe on the ground, you know this is the worst of it. Soon it will be over and the pain will become so much that it will numb. By then... there’s no coming back from it. That’s what happens to all your victims.

“Why won’t you just stay dead?” Lila asks rhetorically, blowing her bangs out of her face with a roll of her eyes as she relaxes from her one-on-one with you. “I can fix that for you,” she threatens. Stalking across the snow, a scream causes everyone to freeze.

“LILA!” It’s Diego. Running toward her, he stops just a few feet behind her. Though it might be stupid to take her eyes off of Five, she knows she’s ready for anything, so she takes a split-second to look at Diego. “You’ve gotta be a desperate, pathetic, wimp to go after those kids! If you do this… you’re only fooling yourself. You know who the enemy is here, and it’s not us! It’s not Five,” he warns, grabbing her attention.

The woman does a double-take, looking between the young couple and Diego. She knows Five’s not going anywhere, he’d never leave you to die alone, so she’s got some time to spare. After all, she wants to take her time killing him. Might as well save him for last. Running after Diego, the man panics and turns, fleeing into the barn.

Five couldn't care less about the snow as he throws himself onto the ground, hurriedly pulling you closer. Wait, is this the smart thing to do? He knows your abilities; he knows you’d been boiling each other alive, she’d mirrored you, Lila had been a copycat. It’s an idea, not founded on proof or fact as this situation has never happened before, but it’s the only logical solution he can think of. It has to work! The old man calls your name a few times, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he forces you to look at him. His hands pin you down on the ground to prevent you from writhing too much. That won’t help anything. Surely touch isn’t good as his body-heat will only worsen your state. Right now you need to be still, you need cold, you need ice. He needs your attention for a second though, long enough to relay his plan. “Look at me, look at me. You’re not dying today. You’re not dying here, I am not letting that happen.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you’d been duped. You feel like an idiot. Even if Five wasn’t dead, now you’re the one who’s dying. Go figure, right? Staring up at the cloudy grey sky, you can’t help but feel like this is all so wrong. This isn’t the way things were supposed to go! This isn’t how you wanted to die.

Five doesn’t allow you to think like that. His face blocks your vision as his icy-blue eyes search your own, worry, and concern obvious within them. “Don’t be afraid, trust me. I know that you’re tired. I know, but you need to use your powers again. You need to freeze yourself. Use the snow, use the ice. Use the water in my body for all I care, you have to live! I am not losing you today, and I’ll be here, no matter what!” Sliding his hand into your own, he squeezes your hand for a moment, giving you a worried smile. His eyebrows are slightly pinched, creating worry-lines on his forehead as he hovers over you.

It shouldn’t be that simple. It can’t… and you don’t have enough energy to do that, but you don’t know how to tell Five. He’d lose his mind. If it were any other time he’d lecture you on how their family is not a family of quitters, and he, himself, is certainly not a quitter. The whisper of your name causes you to open your eyes again. Five closes the space between you to place a tender kiss on your lips. “Please… I can’t lose you too.”

With a shaky inhale, you let go of his hand and place it on your stomach. A dim blue glow surrounding your hand as you begin to freeze yourself. You have to try. A lightbulb goes off in Five’s head. He gathers the surrounding snow in his hands, beginning to pile it on top of you, almost like burying someone in the sand, only in snow. This has to work. It has to; he keeps telling himself on repeat. It drives him crazy to sit there watching, not able to do anything other than cover you in snow. He hates the snow, and any other time he’d curse it, but right now he’s grateful to the universe. The faint sound of fighting in the barn worries him, and he contemplates the idea of helping his siblings… but he can’t leave you. What if you die? He’d never forgive himself if he wasn’t here and you were alone taking your last breath.

His heart pounds in his chest and he takes shaky breaths as he freezes his ass off. It’s cold as fuck out here, though he knows you don’t feel it right now. Underneath the snow he’d placed atop your stomach he spots a brighter blue glow, which must mean it’s working, right?! It has to be. It has to be. Five scoots a little closer as he watches with anticipation. Your eyes flutter closed again, lips void of color from dehydration. Calling your name, you don’t answer.

The beating of your heart slows down, you can feel it within you. Things don’t hurt anymore, and you’re thankful for that. It’s just as you’d predicted, though, and the only thing you regret is not being able to tell Five that you love him. He watches as your chest slows, your breathing becoming more spaced out. Anger, resentment, regret, dread, and horror all fill his gut as he slowly processes what’s happening. Five isn’t a crier, but as he stares stoically at your body, he feels tears start to well up in his eyes. With a quiet whimper, he hangs his head, bangs falling in his face as he sniffles, unable to process this. Whispering your name, as if it were a question, as if he’s expecting an answer, Five’s eyes widen as yours flutter open. “Oh- thank the forces that be!” A heavy sigh escapes him as he hurriedly pushes the snow off of you and helps you sit up. Snowflakes stick to your hair, which elicits a genuine smile from Five. He raises his hand to brush your hair behind your ear and run it down your hair before cupping your cheek.

Both of you open your mouths to speak at the same time, though you beat him to it. “I love you, Five.”

“I love you too,” he whispers in response, never once taking his eyes off yours. The hand is soft on your cheek and it makes you utterly happy that you’re both alive. Noticing him leaning in, you close the space between you with a soft and yet desperate kiss. He thought he’d lost you; you thought you’d lost him. Neither of those things were true. A rumbling of the ground causes both of you to pull away, realization dawning on you that the fight isn’t over yet.

[itstittycitybaby]

Naivety is Enduring (Lin Beifong x reader)

a/n: can’t figure out a better title lmao but this fic is based on one of the asks i’ve gotten. reader is a shy, oblivious officer at the station who’s accidentally been flirting with Lin. 

You kept your head up as you sifted through the streets of Republic City. The streets were almost completely bare with little to no traffic. However, about an hour later that’s when chaos errupted. Your shift started in thirty minutes, but you always took pride on being early. 

Your job wasn’t too important. Compared to the detectives, the actual officers that made rounds, and chief Beifong, it was insignificant. The front desk needed somebody to help keep things under control and dealt with the people coming in and out. It didn’t matter to you. In fact you preferred it. Working the front desk made it easier for you to be more discreet. The quiet and the calm helped ground you unlike going into the streets of the city everyday. Talking to some of the people coming in and out still made you anxious, but it wasn’t so bad.

Letting out a soft sigh, you unlocked the doors. It was dark in the station, which was expected, but in the hall a light was on. It was the last door on the left. Chief Beifong’s office. You couldn’t help but frown. It was four thirty am. Everyone was either asleep or making their way to the station. You weren’t surprised; Chief Beifong was known to work late into the night and the early morning. There was no stopping her. 

Setting down your stuff, you started opening up. You winced at the bright lights as they flickered on. Everything seemed to be there where you left it. You groaned at the never ending filing you had to do. Along with the petty reports you had to sign and date.

Time passed for ten minutes. Then fifteen. You thought Chief Beifong would have left her office. She usually did whenever the first person came into the station but she stayed locked up.

Shaking it off, you made your way to the break room. A pot of coffee would freshen the two of you up. Though, you couldn’t help but feel anxious. Talking to people had never been your strong suit. Especially Chief Beifong. The officers did their best to tread around her carefully and only speak to her when they had to. “Everyone deserves someone to talk to,” you reassured yourself as you poured water into the pot. “Even if they’re fucking terrifying.”

When the coffee was finished you grabbed two mugs. You put sugar and cream in yours. You had a feeling Chief Beifong didn’t like anything in her coffee. If she didn’t like it so be it. At least you tried. Pushing the door open with your hips, you clutched the mugs in your hand tightly. You cursed softly as some of the hot coffee spilled onto your hand. Your hand became a bit red and it hurt like a mother fucker. You made your way past a couple of officers and nodded and smiled at them. They murmured a good morning but continued to chat. No matter, you weren’t as important as they were, you mused.

You swallowed thickly as you stood in front of the imposing door. Chief Beifong never failed to make you nervous. She was scary as hell but before you could chicken out, you knocked on her door twice. Good number. Not too hard and not too soft, you thought. “Come in,” a gruff, but muffled voice replied from the other side of the door. 

Pushing aside your nerves, you opened the door quietly. The head of gray hair that you loved lifted up from the papers in front of her. A brow raised in your direction with a tiny frown on her face. “Yes?”

You fought the urge to fidget and gave the chief an uneasy smile. Focus. “I saw you were still awake,” you said softly, trying not to make her more irritated, “so I brought you a mug of coffee.” Chief Beifong’s eyes narrowed a bit. From suspicion or irritation, you couldn’t tell. God, you wanted the floor to swallow you. You hated it when she dissected you with cold stares. It was just a cup of coffee for fucks sake!

You shuffled your feet nervously as you waited her to say something. Either a sharp “Get out” or a gruff “thanks”, you didn’t care. At this point you just wanted to get out. Chief Beifong’s green eyes lightened a bit. A wave of relief washed over you. Success. “Thank you,” she quipped, looking back down at her paper work. “You really shouldn’t have.” “It’s no problem,” you replied, a shy smile on your face. You set the mug carefully with a gentle thud, and made your leave. 

But you felt like it wasn’t enough. You wanted to be different from the other officers. They were all intimidated and terrified of her. Not that you could blame them, but they didn’t even try to be friendly. You had gotten this far, what else could go wrong? So, with all the courage you had left you said, “Have a good day Chief.” With that, you left her office with a surprised Chief behind her desk.

“Ready for training?” You looked up from the files you were sifting through to put away. The stack was never ending but you had made good progress. It had only been one third of it wiped out, but it was still progress. You could barely contain your surprise. “Y-yes Chief Beifong,” you sputtered holding the manilla file tightly. Her brow twitched and her eyes stared into your soul. Were they always that pretty?

“Good. You’re up in ten.” You nodded, “Yes m’am.” You swore you saw a smirk before she turned around and left you there standing like an idiot. “Get yourself together,” you whispered harshly, cheeks burning.

You sighed as the hot water hit your back. The aching joints and your sore muscles started to soothe under the shower’s water. You’ve always hated training especially whenever the Chief observed you. It was her job but still, did she have to stare? She wasn’t afraid to correct you every five seconds, but how could you concentrate whenever you had a HUGE crush on her? “Fuckin…Chief having to be her hot…self whenever she’s around,” you grumbled to yourself in the empty locker room.

Shivering, you hurried to your satchel to change back into your uniform. The towel around you did little to warm your body. “Didn’t think I’d still see you here.” You jumped. “Oh my god,” you squeaked, pulling your towel closer to you. “C-Chief,” you greeted, cheeks flaming. “P-pleasant surprise.” 

She didn’t say anything as she grabbed her bag. She still had her white tank top on which showed off her toned arms. The cargo pants she wore hugged her ass perfectly. The chief’s normally gray hair was pulled up into a bun. Fuck, did she look good.

Suddenly, Chief Beifong turned to you. You jumped, startled, eyes snapping up to hers. She looked surprised and you swear to the spirits her cheeks turned slightly pink. “U-uh uhhh uhhh,” you sputtered, trying to explain yourself. Grabbing your bag with incredible speed, you spilled out, “I-I gotta go C-Chief! Nice uhhhh talking to you!” With that you dashed out of the locker rooms and left a dumfounded Lin Beifong.

“I fucking hate myself,” you spat in the mirror as you flung your uniform back on. Chief Beifong caught you checking her out. You were fucked. Screwed. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if she handed you resignation letters once you got back to the front desk. You could’t blame her. Maybe you could find a nice little job? Out in the surrounding cities? Far away from Republic City? That sounded like a great idea. You could see it now. Sure the pay wouldn’t probably be the greatest, but it’s better than having the embarassment of being fired in front of your colleagues. They already thought your rank was a disgrace. Imagine the gossip once they figured out the reason for getting fired.

Sighing, you begrudgingly trudged out of the bathroom. Anxiety bubbled in your chest as you left the safe haven behind you and returned to your desk. Maybe she’d just forget about it? “She wont,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“Get yourself together,” you scolded yourself. “We can go home and sulk later. We’ve got a job to do.”

“See you!” You waved, a fake grin plastered on your face. Your coworker didn’t seem to notice though. You hated talking to the officers; they were usually lovely people, but talking to people made you feel smaller claw and insignificant. It was tiring and made you feel stupid that you had trouble talking to people.

Five thirty rolled around on the clock. You still had some filing to finish, sign some mediocre documents, and take care of the citizens coming in and out. Almost everyone had left except for a few people in the station. You were surprised you didn’t find any resignation papers on your desk, or god forbid Chief Beifong waiting at your desk to chew you out. It would be well deserved at least. But now, you didn’t know how to go from here.

Just pretend everything is normal, you told yourself. Oh, if only the spirits were on your side. “Chief Beifong wants to see you.” You sighed, turning to the officer. You hated the pity they held for you. Their face held a grimace as they watched you get up from the floor. “Alright, thanks.” They nodded, but left you to wallow in the anxiety of facing your boss and loosing your job. “Better make the most of it, was great while it lasted.”

Your feet trudged to her door. You felt your heart quicken and the lump in your throat was like a heavy tone. The beating of your heart felt like a sharp dagger piercing into is. You rubbed your clammy hands on your trousers and swallowed. “Enter,” the gruff voice answered once you gathered the courage to knock. Taking one last breath, you gently opened the door. You dreaded the moment the door closed with a soft click.

“I-I’m really sorry,” you stuttered as soon as you went inside. Chief Beifong followed the movement of your twiddling fingers before looking you in the eye. “It was very unprofessional of me to.. d-do that and I understand if you want to fire me.” Chief Beifong didn’t say anything. She looked surprised. Her hands were folded underneath her chin as she studied you. Her green eyes focused in on you. You felt more like a mouse now than you usually did.

“You’re not getting fired.” Confused, you tilted your head. Your brows furrowed deeply. You nibbled your lips as you asked, “What?” Chief Beifong chuckled, “No, in fact, I wanted to ask if you were busy tonight. Maybe get a couple drinks.”

“O-oh,” you said softly, hands dropping by your sides. “Yea sure. I-I can ask some of the other officers if they’d like to come to!” Chief Beifong stared at you. She was trying to process the situation. “No,” she started, “I’m..asking you out..on a date.”

Your eyes widened. Oh. OH. The tips of your ears burned red along with your cheeks. The chief’s eyes glittered with amusement. You nodded, averting her eyes. “Y-yes. I’d like that.” “Good,” she replied, a barely there smirk on her face. “Give me fifteen minutes and I should be finished with this.” Nodding, you made your way to the door. “You got it Chief.” “Lin.” “Huh?” “Call me Lin.” Smiling you said, “Alright, Lin.” It felt foreign on your tongue but you liked it. Leaving her office, you gave her one last timid wave. And no you did not skip all the way back to your desk.

[freakingbellam]

Timeless (HP & HOO crossover x reader)

Synopsis: What would you say if I told you that Hogwarts and Camp Half-Blood are not so far apart? Yeah, Gale and Y/n would also say this is crazy. But these two girls are about to discover that even though they are far apart, the magic that surrounds them is the same. After all, what do a time travel, a fearful prophecy and a Titan about to resurrect, have in common? Certainly more than you can imagine.

Paring: Apollo x reader

Warnings: None, I guess.

Reader: Percy's step sister! reader

Word count: 1.7k

A / N: escreve o que quiser (notas da autora)

September 2010, New York - USA

Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t cry like a baby when she saw Argo II return to Camp Half-Blood. She had been forbidden to help in the battle against the giants, but she was nevertheless not full at Camp. After the near invasion of Camp Jupiter and Reyna's visit, things got messed up there.

But the best part of the return of the other demigods was seeing Percy again. He looked extremely exhausted, but happy to be back in one piece. Y/n hugged him for so long that Percy almost fell asleep in her arms.

The boy was welcomed with all the frenzy he deserved, entitled to a hearty banquet and a visit from his father, along with a very tearful Sally and a relieved Paul.

Tyson had been absolutely thrilled to see his older brother talking to his friends by the fire, which glowed high and yellow, mirroring the emotion of the half-bloods.

Despite being as happy as the others, and maybe even more so, Y/n retired a little earlier that night. She didn't walk long before her absence was noticed.

‘Mingling with the shadows? I thought this was my own thing.” The girl smiled at Nico di Angelo, who walked over to her with his hands in the pockets of his aviator jacket, which was still too big for him.

“I'm going to sleep, Nico.” She explained, continuing her way to Cabin 3. “It was a day full of emotions, I'm tired.”

Nico nodded, walking beside her. Y/n always found it fun to be the same size as Nico, but now she realized that he was a few inches taller than she was.

“Are you okay?” she asked, bringing up the subject.

“I think so.” Nico replied, looking surprised by his own conclusion. “Maybe things get better for me from now on.”

“I'm sure it will.” Y/n opened an encouraging smile. Because he was the son of Hades, Nico suffered more than all the other demigods, which worried the girl. She hadn't seen him since the war of the Titans, but she talked to Percy during her mission and discovered things she didn't want to discover.

She looked at Nico. For the first time in his life, his face looked serene, as if his problems were gone. Y/n realized that it would be better not to go into details about the problems he went through. She did not want to end his joy.

“Di Angelo!” someone called, running up to them. Y/n turned to find Will Solace smiling like a ray of sunshine. “Hi Y/n!”

“Will.” She smiled. When looking at Nico, she noticed a pink tint on his cheeks and held her laugh. “Can you take care of Nico for me? I need to go to sleep but he doesn't want to leave.”

Will smiled, realizing what she meant. Nico looked at her with anger and indignation, but he didn't seem against the idea.

“Certainly.” The blonde took a step forward. “Have a good night!”

“You too.” She raised an eyebrow at Nico and walked back to her cabin.

She was still smiling when she passed Hecate's cabin, which looked darker than ever. Her smile wilted. She had always been a little afraid of the goddess's children since she found herself a half-blood and moved to camp. But that night, something seemed comforting in the hideous darkness of the cabin. Unable to contain the impulse that occurred to her, Y/n went up on the porch and went through the open door. None of the goddess's children were there, they were probably still at the stake celebrating, they always loved a good party.

Y/n didn't know exactly what she expected to find inside, but she certainly wasn't ready for what she saw. She had never entered the cabin since she had never been invited and it didn't feel right to enter without an invitation like she did now. But what she found was an absolute void. No bunk beds, bathroom, closet or chest. Nothing for the basic comfort of teenagers. All that was inside was a torch on the floor with a brown leather-bound notebook beside it.

“Take it” A whisper said, and Y/n knelt down to better analyze the notebook.

“Who...?” She started the question, but knew at the time that she had no need to finish it. Hecate was there. “Are you hiding in the shadows?”

There was a harsh laugh, but Y/n couldn't tell where it came from. It was as if the goddess moved in every particle of air around her.

“I heard that Poseidon's children were mocking, but seeing that feat face to face is much more fun. Ares definitely didn't say enough about it.”

“I don't think he has any reason to boast about it.” She commented, but her body was tense. Something about the goddess made her feel that bad things would happen any second.

“Take the notebook.” She asked, seeming to feel the girl's tension. “Take it and bring my girl back.”

“What does that mean?” Y/n asked, but never got an answer.

After several minutes, she finally let herself be overcome by curiosity, put the notebook under her arm and ran out of the cabin.

Y/n spent a few days without touching the notebook, which was comfortably resting on the small table in her cabin. Percy asked several times what the notebook was and why Y/n didn't move it, but the girl always answered the same thing. "It's just a silly notebook." She was afraid to open it and end up triggering something she couldn't control.

Percy and the others had just returned from a massacre battle with irreparable losses, she didn't want to leave anyone alarmed by something as stupid as a leather notebook.

Y/n tried to distract herself. She would swim in the lake, duel with Percy in the arena, ask Tyson to teach her something in the forges, help Chiron with pending camp, talk about the biggest zucchinis with Rachel, encourage Annabeth to talk nonstop about architecture, sometimes make her repeat everything he had said in Greek, but nothing seemed to get her thoughts out of the notebook. Instead of being distracted, she got some scars from the duels, burns from the forges and throbbing ears, but nothing erased the notebook.

Tired of trying, Y/n returned to the cabin and spent several minutes looking at the problem. She would get up a few times, making a move to pick it up, but soon she would go back to sitting on bed. When she finally thought she would be brave enough to end the trip, someone knocked on the door.

Changing her course, Y/n opened the door to the blond, smug figure.

Y/n and Apollo had spent a lot of time together a few months before, not that any of them had a chance to do the opposite. He had helped her save the Camp when everyone seemed too busy saving the world. Now she was no longer able to get rid of the sun god, who suddenly appeared in her cabin. At least now he had learned to knock on the door before entering.

“Good afternoon, beautiful lady.” He smiled, breaking into the cottage before Y/n had a chance to expel him. “What do you do locked in that cabin?”

“Apollo, seriously, now is not the best time.”

“Every hour is the best time for Apollo!” He smiled at her and Y/n found herself unable to say no to him. The god had that effect on her, but she couldn't explain why. She just went back to bed and sighed.

“What happened, Sunshine?” he asked, now more serious.

Y/n pointed to the notebook, like a child pointing out the bully who was mistreating her. Pausing to think, it was almost the same.

Apollo's gaze followed Y/n 's finger until it stopped at the Hecate symbol on the cover of the notebook, and he froze.

“What's it?”

“That notebook.” He got up and picked up it, playing with it in his hands. “I saw Hecate with another of his once many years ago. I asked her what they were, but she cast a spell on me that prevented me from speaking for two months. Where did you find it?”

“I found him at her cabin.” The girl admitted, unable to lie to the closest friend she had at the camp until that moment. “I heard Hecate ask me to take him away. I didn't understand what she expects me to do.”

“Write.” He suggested, after long minutes of silence.

“I’m sorry?” Y/n looked at him, confused. “What if something bad happens, Apollo? I don't know if I want to find out.”

The god smiled gently, taking the book to the girl and handing it over, along with a blue ballpoint pen. Y/n hesitated for a few seconds before picking up the pen and opening the notebook. But she didn't do much more than that, as the words “Owned by G. J. W.” they magically appeared on the first leaf, in a strange black ink.

Y/n looked at Apollo for help, but he just shrugged and encouraged her to write something below. "G. J. W.? This notebook is mine, and my name has none of those letters!”

Before she had a chance to tell Apollo how ridiculous it was, the notebook replied.

G: "Who are you?"

Y: “Y/n Y/l/n, are you?”

G: "Gale Wright"

Y: “How the hell am I talking to you through my notebook? Where you are from?"

G: “England. I'm a student at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, how about you? What school of magic do you belong to? ”

Y: "I'm not going to any magic school, I'm from New York, there's no such thing here!"

G: "I thought the United States school of magic was Ilvermorny"

Y: "I am not a witch!"

G: "Oh by Merlin, are you a muggle?"

Y: "Look, I may not be a witch but you don't have to curse me!"

G: “Muggle is a term for non-wizards ... But if you are not a witch, how can you talk to me? This notebook is bewitched, only those who have contact with magic could see it ”

Y: "I didn't know that the notebook was enchanted until now ... I didn't even know about the existence of a school of magic, wizards, yes, now schools? No, things are very different here"

G: "Different how?"

Y: "I am a camper at Camp Half-Blood"

G: "And what would that be?"

Y: "Well, a camp for demigods, of course!"

Y/n waited, but nothing else happened. She looked up at Apollo, who looked as upset as she was.

“School of Magic and Witchcraft of... Hogwarts?” She asked, hoping that Apollo would say something to her.

“I've heard of that school. Hecate loves to talk about how she has an entire chain of schools that teach children to do what she does. She is very proud of it.” He explained, taking the notebook from Y/n and examining the last conversation. “I just didn't think it was real at all. All the gods think it's Hecate's invention, but no one has ever tried to prove it.”

“Well, I think we just did that.” Y/n joked, but was far from feeling the fun of the situation, because, there in front of her, there was a problem. Perhaps a much bigger problem than she imagined.

[burnedbyshoto]

eternal love

— A simple love story between a tattoo artist and a flower shop owner. —

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pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: fluff, cursing

word count: 10,505

a/n: so, ngl... this was something that blew up in my mind at 2 am a few nights ago and after fighting others on whether I should write it, I finally did it!!! I super loved writing this, and I hope you guys will enjoy reading it!!!! a lil fluff for the soul, have fun :D also uh, this works for @bnhabookclub​‘s event so huzzah!

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Spring was a season of renewal. The world is going back to what it once was in its beautiful glory. Baby pinks and soft greens illuminated as far as the eyes could see, the morning mist unable to freeze because of the warmth in the ground. 

The gentle echoing sounds of animals, insects, and more returning to regular activity, the cold winters finally defeated. Butterflies danced in the air, birds sang in the trees, and love was in the air. 

What would be perfect with love?

Flowers.

“Good morning, y/l/n-san,” an elder greeted you.

Your cheeks were already burning with exhaustion, it was only eight in the morning, and you were tired. You wiped the back of your hand to your sweating forehead, your fatigue ignored while you smiled in greeting. “Good morning!”

She stared up at you with kind eyes, her hands holding onto her cane while she cocked her head to the side, “You seem to be quite exhausted this morning.”

There wasn’t much you could say or reply with because it was true.

“Well, we finally have a whole bunch of flowers back, and with White Day approaching us, I’m trying to make sure we’re on track!” you explain, trying to fix the multiple buckets of assorted flowers that you would have outside of your store.

You were a flower shop owner. 

Your entire life, you had lived a life where you had grown up working alongside your parents. This was a family business, and with your parents eldering years and you finally back from schooling, they had decided to take an impromptu trip to see the world, leaving you behind to take care of the store. It wasn’t something you minded; after all, they had allowed you to seek all of your own adventures in your life despite only being owners of a flower shop, but it was a lot of work for just yourself. 

You couldn’t hire anyone to work at the store, after all, while you had never grown up to live in a moment of discomfort, it was because your parents and yourself busted your backs for this store was why it survived. But now it was just you.

Winter had been fine, the flowers never had to leave the store, but this was spring.

Renewal, return, and romance suffocated the airs of Japan, and your slow winter business was already becoming a quick and demanding spring one.

Brushing your soiled hands onto the relatively clean apron you wore, you sighed at the sight of the elder looking past you. ‘Was she that old that she spaced out in public?’ you couldn’t help but think while staring at her. 

“Who’s moving into that shop there?” the elder spoke up, and you hummed, turning around to follow her extended finger. 

The shop next to your family’s flower shop had been vacant for years, the last time you remember anyone being there was in middle school. Now in your early twenties, you didn’t even realize that anyone was moving in. There were a lot of men too! How you had so apparently been ignorant to their massive hustle to move things in shocked you. Damn, maybe you were past the point of exhaustion at this point…

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted, your eyes growing when you realized just how neater the store looked. They had obviously been working on repairing the store for some time now, the store was painted in a clean and crisp color, the brick walls scrubbed and glittering like new. It was pretty aesthetic.

 “Y/l/n-san! Please help me, it’s my wife’s promotion day, and the flowers I ordered online never arrived!” a voice screamed from a distance away, and your attention turned towards a man who was sobbing while scampering his way over. 

And even with your want to just stare at the army of men moving in machines you’ve never seen in your life, you exhaled softly, turning to face the scared customer.

“Of course, follow me!”

You bid your farewells to the elder and hurried inside, ready to create an arrangement of flowers that the customer would enjoy.

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Your exhaustion of the day never seemed to end, the spring day had brought a plethora of customers to your storefront. Many couples, new and old, are surfacing to pick out fresh bouquets together. Their happiness is charming, personalities warming and smiles ever so sweet. They always asked about how you were doing, how your parents were doing — after all, this was a tight community, and they asked about the new business next door.

You couldn’t respond to that last question, your face always burning up in your embarrassment of not knowing. There was no reason for you to not know, after all, it wasn’t as if you were ever doing anything that wasn’t running the store. There was no one to rely on but yourself at this point, but still, exhaustion didn’t mean you could miss the purchase and remodeling of the store right next door to you!

Soon it was nine at night, the now empty wooden carts that were once outdoors dragged back indoors of your store. You took count of your sales today, grinning to see that you had managed to sell everything you had put out today except for a few leftover peonies. You moved back towards the door, ready to turn the Open sign to the Closed side. But you paused when you saw three men walking out of the neighboring shop. 

Your eyes focused on the three of them talking comfortably. You had no idea what they were saying, but still, you concentrate on them, curiosity getting the best of you. They talked for a while while you continued to peer through the glass on the door, the conversation must have been lively considering that one of the men was laughing so frequently you almost wished you could hear what they were saying. But alas, eventually, they embraced, and two of the three men entered the large truck that had been parked in the alleyway practically all day and left.

Frowning, you saw that the man was still standing out there. He was unmoving, looking at who knows what with his hands stuffed into his pockets. The night was dark, and the lights on the street did little to help you create what he looked like in your mind. But with a passing car, the soft light illuminating the man with the gentle headlights, you got a clear image of him.

Well, it would have been clear had your guts scrambled into a knot at the sight of his own eyes piercing into yours.

He had noticed you.

With a loud cry, you dove to the floor, your hands pressed against the cool wood while you thought about your next plan of action. Would he come and confront you? Stalking people like this wasn’t cool in the slightest, and if he wanted to walk over and ask you about it, you wouldn’t be able to lie in the slightest. You knew that about yourself. Or maybe it was just you freaking out? There was a solid chance that this was just you freaking out, right?

Your palms sweat while you pushed off the floor, your body trembling as if you were the starring role of some American horror movie. Sucking in your air, and with a hammering heart, you peeked through the glass. No one was out there.

Sighing in relief, you were grateful to believe that it was either your imagination that he stared at you, or he just didn’t care. But still, even with the exhaustion weighing heavy in your bones, you knew you owed him a greeting. Your mother would have your head when she returned if you didn’t. Plus, it helped that the pink peonies still sat in the bucket, their petals still strong and firm, beautiful and lively. 

With a nod, you walked over to them. Grabbing the peonies, you organized the delicate flowers into a full and lush looking bouquet. You hoped that he liked flowers, and wouldn’t mind the kind you gave him, primarily because you couldn’t provide him with anything else. Nevertheless, you wrapped the flowers in a tan paper and walked out, ready to give your greetings to a newcomer.

The store felt a world away while you walked towards it, and upon stepping in front of the store, it stole your breath away.

It was a tattoo shop.

Tattoos in Japan were no longer being associated with the Yakuza, years of trying to get everyone to accept this western practice by the younger generations had finally succeeded. Tattoo shops were blooming in numbers across the country, and it seemed that your area was no different. 

The outside had large windows, and without even entering the shop, you found it to be quite classy indoors. This wasn’t at all what you were expecting from a tattoo shop! You had always assumed that it was black, something similar to the gates of hell feeling. But with the sign not claiming it was closed, and the store hours showing that it was open until eleven at night, you pushed past the doors. You were glad to see that your pink peonies would make a generous splash of color in the darker colored storefront.

“Hello?” you called out, your voice ever so softly echoing against the unoccupied room. “Is anyone here?”

Cringing at what you said, you groaned. If there was no one here, would that make you a criminal? Oh god, please don’t let that be true! But if there was no one here, why would he leave with the lights on and the door unlocked?! How stupid—

“Can I help you?”

Oh fuck, you’re screwed, was all you could think at first when you turned towards the black curtained hallway. 

The man who stood there was tall, his shoulders wide, and legs firm. His arms — which were covered shoulders to wrists in tattoos, his right side containing only black inked tattoos, and his left in the most colorful ink you’d ever seen — were defined with muscle, stretching the fabric of his dark grey t-shirt. 

A line of piercings down the cartilage of his ears, identical on both sides of his head. His hair, however, was something you’ve never seen before. Half white, half red, with an undercut and detailed shavings at his temples, it was currently held back with a thin black headband that exposed his eyes to you. He was heterochromatic, you could tell immediately by the piercing blue and dark grey eye color he held. But there was nothing to disguise your reaction when you saw the tattoo — scar? — that covered his eye like an overlarge eyepatch.

There was no smile on his face, just a quirked eyebrow and his lips set in an unamused frown.

“Is that a tattoo?!” you asked your jaw to the floor. Your fingers touched the place where the red skin on his face would be on your own. 

“No,” he responded after a beat, his eyes were unbelievably annoyed. Obviously, not at all amused by your intrusion and rude words. “It’s a burn, but again, can I help you, or are you just going to stand there and stare. Not that you look the type to get tattoos, though.”

“I do have piercings, though,” you couldn’t help but defend yourself, your skin feeling like it was burning under his gaze. “But okay, yes. I mean, no! No, you can’t help me because I’m not here for your services.”

His gaze on you only seemed to intensify, a fire and ice storm erupting in his eyes while you wanted to punch yourself in the throat. Good god, be normal.

“I’m your neighbor! Well, I guess I can give you my name. Y/l/n y/n at your service,” you try, your hands thrusting out the peonies in your grasp. His gaze didn’t drop to the flowers, not even a twitch of an eye, which only coursed anxiety through your blood. “I’m the owner slash, not the owner of the flower shop! I hadn’t noticed you ever moving in except today, so I felt super bad! Um, so I just wanted to stop by and say, well, welcome! And uh, well… I just felt bad! These are peonies.”

“I know what flowers those are,” he responds, but his gaze remains unfazed.

What the hell was his problem, you thought, the hairs on the back of your neck rising as if you were being confronted by a deadly predator and not some stupid hot tattoo artist with a bad attitude.

“Oh, cool! Most people think they’re roses for whatever reason,” you laugh, looking at the flowers, your shoulder shrugging. 

“I also know they’re the only flowers you had leftover from your sales today,” he spoke again, and your face twisted when you returned to his gaze again. 

“Excuse me?”

“I was outside when you were pulling all your carts inside, and they were the only ones who weren’t sold today,” he shrugs, his arms crossing before his chest. The muscles on his arms only seem to expand at this, the ink dancing across his skin, forming new images in your mind while you feel like punching him in the jaw. “Is that what you feel about your new neighbor? I’m deserving of day-old flowers that you were unable to sell?”

“Of course not!” you exclaim, the frustration in your blood climbing while you held his stare. “I mean, are they new and super fresh flowers, no! But they haven’t even wilted yet because I know how to take care of my crap! I just finished the winter season where flower sales are always less than favored, so sorry I couldn’t toss you a thousand yen bouquet!”

There was a silence that floated across the room, his eyes staring into yours, and you could do nothing but stare back at him. Your shoulders rag with your uncontrolled angry breathing, what a fucking asshole he was! Who did he think he was?!

“Well, I guess I’m sorry to hear that you’re broke,” he sighs, finally taking strides over towards you. There’s a part of you that yells to leave the store immediately, and an even larger part of you that screams to step at him too, throw him off his trail! But in your indecisiveness, he stands before you, taking the flowers from your hands. “Todoroki Shouto.”

“That is so obviously not my name,” you roll your eyes, your arms folding across your chest. 

There’s a small huff of air from the man, his eyes looking at you full of judgment and the smallest bits of amusement. 

“Oh!” you gasp, your hands covering your mouth.

“I’m Todoroki Shouto,” he tries, his eyebrow lifting again, his lip trying perking into a smirk. “But, thanks for confirming we don’t have the same name.”

If there was a god, he would shoot you from this world at this very moment; your fists shoved into the pockets of your apron.

“Okay,” you agree, your lips pursing in your horrible, horrible attempt at masking your hurt pride. “Well, I am utterly exhausted, so I am going to leave now. Have fun with your dumb tattoo shop, Todoroki-san, I am… going to sleep.”

You turned on your heel, ready to run from this shop like the devil was hot on your heels.

“Well, see you around—” he responded, your hands pressing onto the door to leave— “Y/l/n.”

The ringing of your blood in your ears heavily outweighed his voice because you didn’t even stare at him as you continued to walk down the pathway to reenter your shop. Maybe it was a good thing you didn’t look back because had you, you would’ve seen Shouto’s fingers caressing the pink petals of the flower, and his lips moved to say one thing.

“Welcome.”

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It had been a week since you had seen Shouto. The new tattoo shop seemed positively overwhelmed by new customers, countless amount of young people filing into their appointment times, and the few days he had free hours. It, fortunately, did bring you new crowds of customers. Friends and couples alike bringing in the warm spring air into your shop while they bought flowers in commemoration of their new tattoos. 

There was no stopping this, it seemed.

“Thank you for your service, please come again,” you called out after the giggling and slightly tipsy group of girls who happened to be your last customers of the day.

Today has been a good day.

You weren’t at all exhausted, in fact, you felt relatively light on your feet still despite it being 8:56 p.m. Since it was so late at night, and with the knowledge of there hardly ever being last-second customers you started cleaning up for the night. But as you grabbed the broom, the familiar bell of the entrance of the shop rang in your ears.

Sighing, you dropped the broom and turned towards the counter, “Welcome!”

The figure at the door shocked you, it was Shouto. He stood there with his fingers hooked in the loops of his black jeans, and the white v-neck did nothing to conceal anything about his tattoos or his dumb muscles. 

“Hey!” you smiled, the smile on your face as fake as the festive flowers sitting on the counter — the ironies of working at a flower shop.

“I’m looking for recommendations,” Shouto admitted, his strides stopping him before you. “It’s one of my friends' birthdays coming soon, in a few weeks. He doesn’t like getting presents, but he likes flowers. I was hoping you could help me out here.”

Your jaw drops, words failing you seeing the way that his hair falls so elegantly between his eyes. His eyes are concentrated on the pre-arranged flower arrangements demonstrated on the table as samples and you cough.

“Uh, yes, do you know any of his favorite flowers?”

“No, he’s not really that open about his interests,” Shouto admits, his shoulders shrugging,

“When do you need the arrangement?”

“His birthday is April 20,” Shouto says, a sigh on his lips while he looks up at you. “I’m not sure if there was a time requirement to request things, especially given that you work here alone.”

“I do not work here alone!” you cry, your blood sparking in a fury. “I mean, yes, right now I do, but it’s not always like this! I’m just being a good child and letting my parents have the travels of their lifetime!”

Shouto hums, his face unconvinced, but he seems a bit perplexed, “Did I do something that first night to you?”

That takes you entirely off guard, “Excuse me?”

“Well, after the first night we officially met, you have avoided me very well.”

“I-I’m very busy with this store!”

“I walked out of the store to pick up supplies while you were speaking with your own customer. I saw you run into the door, trying to make your way back indoors.”

“You saw that?!”

“A lot of my friends say I can come off coldly at first, and I know that it’s true, and I’m trying to work on it. I, myself, was exhausted that day too because we put the entire shop together in a single day, so I let myself slip up,” Shouto admits, and you can feel your face beating in time with your embarrassed pulse. Why was this so hard? “I haven’t had the time to come over since opening, so I’m trying now.”

“So the birthday thing is a fake way to get me to talk?” you asked, your lips twitching in your losing battle to keep from smirking.

“Yes and no,” he smiles softly. It almost takes you by surprise, the smile seemed too gentle, too sweet to be on the face of someone who looked like they’d murder you in an alleyway. “I’m not that incompetent to know that I have a few weeks to give until I really need to get those plans under wraps.”

There’s a laugh that bubbles in your throat, and you sigh, unbelieving of what he was doing. 

“You’re kind of weird,” you tease, untying your apron for it was now long past the store's open hours. “But since you’re not a customer, I will be asking you to leave at once.”

“But—!”

“No exceptions! I can’t be seen playing favorites, the elders will gossip,” you firmly state, moving from behind the counter to shoo him from your store.

“I want to buy a flower then,” Shouto insists, pulling out a leatherbound wallet. 

Your eyes narrow, lucky bitch.

“What flower would you like?” you ask. Your customer service smile painted on your face. 

“Do you happen to have any ajisai’s?” Shouto asks, and you think.

You did have some!

Nodding, you pointed your finger towards the pack where small bouquets of ajisai’s sat. Shouto nodded, walking over and grabbing one and making it back.

“That’ll be seven hundred yen,” you say the moment he arrives back.

“The sign said six hundred,” Shouto points out.

“You have me seven minutes over closing time, it’s my gratuity tip,” you tease, grinning when he places seven hundred yen down. You focus back on the cash register, inputting the last sale into it and fixing up the computer before returning your attention back to Shouto, who was staring at the flowers in his hands.

“Here,” he says, thrusting the flowers into your hands and walking away before you could yell at him.

The pink-tipped flowers sat in your hands, ajisai — or hydrangeas — were small and delicate flowers, but they were stunning in your eyes. Rolling your eyes, you put the flowers next to the fake festive ones and went to clean up, the small smile on your own face irreplaceable as you cleaned up.

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In the following weeks, you and Shouto had begun a strange friendship of sorts. Your breaks during your lunch and dinner times were accompanied by Shouto, who was always over at the time. The tattoo shop was doing exceptionally well, and because of that, he even had other artists there with him, and just gained an official piercer. They were a great crew, all bright and caring people who often had you laughing on the rare occasions you visited his shop. But Shouto always had his time slot blocked out during your breaks, and he would come over with snacks and opinions for the two of you to discuss.

He was definitely an odd person. He was very open about a lot of things, almost too honest. In weeks, you knew more about him than some of your own childhood friends, and you had been involved with most of their stories! Todoroki Shouto was someone to admire though, he was brilliant, a person who never failed to make you smile with his often idiotic tendencies. 

He was smart but dumber than a rock.

But as the two of you grew comfortable, there was one thing itching at the back of your mind, the one question you always had when you saw people with tattoos. 

“What do your tattoos mean?” you couldn’t help but ask, your eyes shining while looking at his arm that was poised high to deliver the cold soba noodles into his awaiting mouth. “I mean, I know there’s a lot, but one side is colorful and bold, and the other is simple and beautiful.”

Shouto finished the noodles on his chopsticks, his lips soaked with the oils on the noodles. “Do you want to know about a particular one?” he asked, resting the chopsticks down and extending his arms for you to see. 

You leaned forward on the stool you were sitting on, observing the lines that created the art on his skin. You were fascinated by both sleeves, and he had incredible artwork on both sides of his arms. There was also some hidden motif behind each side, fire versus ice… But which one to ask about first?

“Can you just tell me why you have two sleeves that are starkly different?” you asked with a curious glint of your eyes. “I mean black ink on one side versus only color? Is there a reason, or was it just something that happened by accident?”

“Oh, there’s a reason for it,” Shouto adjusted on his chair, clearing his throat while he extended his arms. “You can tell just by looking at me, but my left side is what I’ve always associated with my dad: the red hair, blue eyes. My right side is something that I connect with my mom: the white hair, grey eyes. Colored tattoos are always more painful, they tell a very exact story. There isn’t any room for argument because it is seen in one way and one way only. You can deceive, and you can hide, but the truth is there. When I got my first tattoo, I still hated my dad with everything I had, and I wanted to cover every part of my body that I could that would erase him from me. Which is my left side. And like colored tattoos, he was painful, exact, and unchanging. My right side is black ink only because things become confusing, discerning, unknown—” his fingers trace the curving lines on his right arm— “you don’t know where it starts, where it ends, but it’s ever present. It’s comforting because it can change with how you need it to change. You can have other fills in its blanks, to piece together its story, but it has distinct intentions. It’s strong and adaptable.”

You take in his words, unable to think of anything but absorb his words. There’s a soft understanding to his tattoos. Once done in defiant, spoke stories of not only who he was, but who he is today. 

“Okay, so I know I’m just a super lame florist, but what do you think about me getting a tattoo?” you asked, your teeth biting into your lower lip with your confusion and hope. “I mean, I’ve never really wanted one before, but that was because of social stigma and all, but seeing yours and your friends all the time… I’m curious.”

Shouto’s brows raise; he doesn’t say anything; however, studying your face.

“What are you thinking about in particular?” he asked his eyebrow scrunching, his head tilting to the side. “Anything at all?”

You blew a raspberry, your hands pressing to your lap, your shoulders falling to your ears.

“I like symbolic things a lot,” you admit with a shrug. “I don’t think I could ever get a sleeve tattoo, so I want it to make sense and have meaning to me. Like… I don’t know a sakura blossom, but maybe not that? I don’t know!”

Shouto laughs softly, the sound pleasant on your ears while you thrash your legs like a child. 

“Well, I think I can help you at the very least draw you something,” he suggests, a hand offered out in a deal. “I am a tattoo artist, after all.”

“I’m not sure if I can trust you,” you playfully scoff, your arms folding across your chest while you shake your head. “I might doze off under the needle and wake up to a walking penis on my back!”

“A penis?” Shouto repeated, an award-winning smile gracing his face while you huff, your laughter failing at being masked.

“It’s what happened in middle school to people caught sleeping! Didn’t it happen to you?”

“Not at all.”

“Right, you rich kid middle schools were a breeding ground for far worse. What type of prepubescent hazing did your school do?”

“What makes you think there was hazing?”

“How could there not be!”

The doorbell chimes in the distance and the lively debate is over when you check the time, it was time to reopen it seems.

“I’ll figure out what you did back as a pubescent child,” you promise, watching as Shouto rises with you, his own alarm going off. “But would you really draw me a tattoo?”

Shouto nods, following you out to the entrance of the shop, “I will if you ask me to.”

Uncertainty sits in your stomach, you weren’t sure if it was something that you wanted right now, it had, after all, come up as a moment of trying to create conversation more than being an honest truth. But if it was something that Shouto drew for you, maybe you would.

“I’ll let you know if I want it,” you promise, your eyes closing with your warm smile. 

Shouto hums in agreement, his head nodding once. He seems to hesitate for a bit and ultimately walks over to where there was a gathering of flowers and picks out a single himawari. Your eyes narrow in silent teasing when he walks it over to the counter, his hands already reaching for his wallet.  

You accept the change, giving him back what you owed him, and was once again shocked to see him resting the flower in your hands. 

“For you,” he smiled, his shoulders shrugging.

“You’re so weird,” you wrinkle your nose, still accepting the flower from his fingers with a bright smile. “Thank you for the beautiful himawari.”

“Mm, you’re welcome,” Shouto nodded, slipping on the beanie he had removed upon entering the warm flower shop. “See ya later, y/l/n?”

You nod, waving as he left to which he graciously flipped the sign for you to read that you were once again open. “Bye, Todoroki-san!”

Himawari flowers, otherwise known as sunflowers, always filled you with warmth and love. A flower that is known to be a personal sun on this earth without ever once providing a shred of warmth. There was no denying that it was beautiful, but you shook your head, leaving it on the table in the hallway that leads to your home above the shop. You’d dry and press it once the day was over. 

Yes, you decided, that’s how it was going to go.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆ Three ⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“I always forget the wedding season is a thing! Stop looking at me like that, and please help me!”

Most people would never expect to see a community staple member who ran the flower shop to be on their hands and knees, holding onto the ankles of one of the most intimidating and newest members of the community while they begged for help. Well, to be honest, no one could even consider what you were doing to be begging. It was a full-on psycho messy bitch cry for help. 

“I said I was going to help you already, what else do you possibly need from me?” Shouto groaned, his vans clad foot trying to wiggle you loose from his ankle. “...don’t tell me.”

“Well, you know what I’m asking then!” you whine, your eyes welling with tears at Shouto’s straight face.

Your face had an array of dried petals on your face, dirt caking the undersides of your fingernails, grass, and leaves in your hair, and desperation reeking from your face. 

“My parents still aren’t back! My friends are all busy living their own lives too far away to help me properly, and you’re the only person I trust! You’re a tattoo artist, you have to have a delicate hand, right? Please help me and let me use your crew too, I promise I’ll pay!”

Shouto groans, managing to kick you free from his foot, and pulling you up to your feet so that the noisy people watching would hopefully leave. “If you want the others to help you out, you need to ask them. I’m not going to force them to do anything.”

Your eyes blow wide, excitement simmering in your cells while your hands grip onto his biceps for support, and his own hands rested on your hips. 

“Really?! You’ll let me do that?!”

Shouto breathed heavily out of his nose, took a second to recompose himself before letting that small smile appear on his face. The grateful squeal that left your lips was something that shocked him, Shouto won’t lie, but it was the hug you threw around his neck that had him stumbling. He watched in a frozen trance as you stormed into his shop, arms waving animatedly above your head while you explained your need for help to his employees. He didn’t follow you in though, choosing to instead watch you from outside the shop because it was his break right now, and he wasn’t going to be spending it inside the shop. 

You returned with a smug smirk on your face, dirt-smudged on your cheek while you nodded your head in victory. 

“Well, it looks like I have a team,” you say with a mock casualty. “I am, what the cool kids call, persuasive.”

A weird feeling floods to the tips of Shouto’s fingers at your words was this… annoyance? There was no reason for him to be annoyed that his friends would be coming over to help you. You needed the help. So what if you wouldn’t be talking to him and only him.

“Persuasive, or annoying?” Shouto tries you, and the way you focused on him in your flustered state was enough for a small chuckle to escape his lips. Before you could respond in defense to your persuasive tongue, he was already en route towards your shop. “You wasted five minutes of my break, please don’t waste the other ten.”

He wasn’t sure what made him grin more, the loud cry of “you’re an asshole, Todoroki-san,” the childish stomping coming from behind him, or the cheerful laughter that soaked your tongue at your own silly antics. But still, the grin became a soft smile when he turned to face you, the shop door in his hand while he held it for you. 

“After you.”

“Damn right, after me.”

~

“You guys are actually very good at this,” you marvel, peering over Shouto’s shoulder, watching as he and his coworkers assembled the vase of statement flowers.

Todoroki Shouto, Kaminari Denki, Shinsou Hitoshi, Midoriya Izuku, and Bakugou Katsuki.

Five equally large men, decked out in tattoos and piercings, with a punk look to them sat pinched together on tables meant to hold more than five men dainty arranging soft pinks and white-colored flowers with your princess pop music blaring in the background. It was very different to how they were in their shop, but it amused you to see them like this.

They were a group of childhood friends who apparently all had the same dream and worked together to make this tattoo shop. Shouto, being the most wealthy of them, had been the name signed on all the papers, explaining the reasons why he was the one you had first met those many nights ago. 

But with five different weddings coming up at the moment, you were more stressed about getting these things done and fast. The good thing, however, was that it seemed most of them were striving perfectionists. 

Shouto, Bakugou, Midoriya, and Shinsou were all on top of it, having only needing you to explain the arrangements once for them to get it. Kaminari took two tries, but he was also very, very social, and took his time. They were a bizarre dynamic, but it was something you enjoyed.

“Damn right we are, this shit is so fucking easy,” Bakugou responded back, shoving yet another completed arrangement your way. “And why are you just fucking staring at us? Why aren’t you helping?”

You hummed, grabbing the completed vase, and placing it with the others from this particular wedding. “Because I already met my quota, and I can’t pull out the other arrangement until you guys are done.”

“Oh, there’s another one?” Midoriya asked, handing you a completed vase.

“Well, if you guys don’t mind!” you feel your face heating while they were finishing up their final vases, Bakugou snatching some of Kaminari since he had more leftover. “I just didn’t expect you guys to haul these so quickly! And well, there’s just one left I have to do!”

“We are amazing,” Kaminari says, twirling a stem of baby’s-breath in his fingers. “I can see why you were so eager to sign us to your shop. “I make perfect commentary, Shinsou has that calming effect, Deku is sweet and kind, Shouto is obviously the closest to you, and Bakugou.”

You blinked, as did everyone else, staring at the blond who wove the baby’s-breath into the arrangement with a soft touch. Wasn’t he going to finish that sentence?

“And I what?” Bakugou growls, his ears tinging red with his annoyance.

“Hm?” Kaminari perks his eyebrows, his gaze lazily resting on the ash blond. “Oh, no, that was it!”

There was a loud screech of the chair against the floor, and Midoriya was holding back Bakugou while Kaminari screeched, hiding behind Shinsou.

“Here you go,” Shouto sighed, handing you the prior arrangement for this wedding batch. 

“Thank you,” you smile gratefully, the sounds of the raging war between Bakugou and Kaminari fading into background noise while you hold Shouto’s gaze. “For all of this too, you guys are keeping me from a countless amount of all-nighters.”

“Well, as long as they don’t wreck your shop, then I guess the payment will be okay,” Shouto sighed, not bothering to even look at how Midoriya was losing ground on keeping Bakugou back.

“As long as there isn’t any blood or teeth on the floor, I’ll give it to ya,” you grin, gesturing with your head for him to follow you.

While you and Shouto had gone to get the final wedding arrangements, Shinsou had managed to get Bakugou to calm down and sit. This arrangement was simple, and there were only twelve of them you needed to make, and before you knew it, everyone was leaving, waving as they went. Only Shouto stayed behind, helping you put away the chairs and the tables, while also setting the flowers into the freezer until they would be collected.

It was almost midnight by the time the two of you had cleaned up the shop, and Shouto leaned against the counter while you sprawled onto the floor, exhausted. 

“I think,” you mumble, exhaustion fluttering through you. “I think Imma just, sleep here.”

“I’m not going to let you do that,” Shouto sighs, walking over to you. “You’re bordering disgusting right now, and you need to shower before sleeping.”

“I’m not trying to impress anyone right now,” you point your finger at him definitely. “I think I can become one with the ground right now.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Shouto decided, pulling you up to your feet. Something that made you groan and press your forehead to his chest when you got you up. “Come on, let’s go. I’ll walk you to your stairs.”

Snorting, you shake your head, pushing him away, “No, it’s okay, I was just being annoying. Besides, I need to lock up down here once you leave.”

Shouto frowns, but he doesn’t move to argue with that, because it was true. 

“I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning!” you insist, smiling sweetly up at the man who was wearing one of your bandanas. 

“Okay,” Shouto finally agreed, moving towards the door.

When you got to the door, ready to see him out, Shouto paused. 

He turned to you, his head tilting, and your lips parted to question him, but before any words could fall from your tongue, he raised his hand.

In his hand, he rested a pink arusutoromeria. It was most definitely a leftover from one of the arrangements statement flowers, but it sat daintily in his hand. Under the moonlight, it was almost ethereal in his hold, and you felt a small warmth build in your cheeks.

“That’s called stealing from my clients, ya know,” you tease, the exhaustion in you dying the moment you took the flower from his hand. “I’m going to have to take this out of your paycheck.”

“Don’t pay me,” Shouto insisted softly, his lips peeking into a half-smile. “I would’ve helped, even if you hadn’t asked.”

“That’s ridiculous, I wouldn’t have let you,” you shove his arm, but he went unmoved. His two-colored eyes shining in mirth while continuing to stare at you. 

“I know,” he whispers, his gaze holding yours. “Goodnight, y/l/n.”

“Goodnight, Todoroki-san.”

Shouto licked his lips, his face wincing just the smallest bit before shaking his head, “I think you can drop the formality, we’re passed that.”

You didn’t have time to react, only whispering his last name while he exited your shop into the nighttime. But you looked down at the arusutoromeria, otherwise known as the Alstroemeria Peruvian lily. The peachy and pink waxy petals smooth under your fingertip, but it made your heart warm.

Shouto really did pick the most beautiful flowers.

But why was it always for you?

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆ Four ⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“The shop isn’t open today, Todoroki-chan!”

Shouto turned around to see two elders watching him while he had failed to open your shop’s doors.

“Oh, thank you,” he thanked them, bowing in greetings. “Do you know why? Y/l/n didn’t mention anything yesterday?”

“We do, actually! The park hosts the summertime festival, and they’re in charge of the floral arrangements you see going on there! Y/l/n might be there right now!”

Shouto nodded, the banners that had been advertising for the said festival had been up for the past two weeks.

“Thank you,” he said, leaving the two elders to themselves before returning to his own shop.

Today was a busy day, and since he wasn’t going to have time to spend his break with you, he decided he’d just move on to his latest client. Ignoring the questionative and gossiping look of Kaminari, he called on the girl who was here for her last touch up.

He’d go and see you when you returned. 

It was three in the morning when you were finally back at your shop. Festivals were indeed something of exhaustion. You spent six hours putting up flowers all over people's booths and stalls in order for things to look beautiful. Then when the festival began at three in the afternoon, you’d be in your own booth handing out single roses, lilies, and tulips to lovers, friends, and family who wanted to cheer others up.

Flower sales have always confused you. Flowers, after all, were almost pointless since most of them were bought without the roots and soil. You were gifting something that was on the verge of death that wouldn’t last longer than twenty-one days if you were lucky. But you couldn’t complain, on the other hand. The people’s faces that exploded with affection and love after receiving the flowers made it worth knowing that these dying presents had meaning to them.

But festivals by yourself were hell. 

Restocking the flowers, handling the money, trying to give out the flowers all by yourself had proven to be a handful. This was at the least a two-person job, and with your parents still not returning anytime soon, it was hard. You couldn’t ask anyone to help you because everyone you knew who would accept your money to work had to work until late today too.

But you had survived, as you had been for the past few months. So when you tiredly stabbed your key into the air, trying your best to get it into the lock, a sudden noise scared you.

Turning towards the sound, your tired eyes widened upon seeing Shouto walking out with a young woman next to him. She was tall, grand, and even with your tired, dried out, and blurry eyes, you could tell she was beautiful. You saw the way that politely and effortlessly giggled, her dark eyes warm and sweet while she talked to Shouto.

And Shouto, how you had entirely missed him today. But he was obviously enraptured by this woman, his facial features looking kind and sweet while they talked.

A weird feeling tightened in your stomach, what the hell was that? You blinked multiple times, your head muggy and far too foggy for your liking. This wasn’t your business, you thought, finally succeeding in opening your shop door. But with a strong pull of the wagon you had, you watched in horror as the top bins clattered to the floor.

You hauled the wagon in, desperate to get out there and get the remaining fallen items off the floor. You thought having eaten only breakfast today would have rendered you unable to be as stupidly strong as you were at that moment. But as you went to pick up the boxes, you saw Shouto approaching you, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Oh, hey, Todoroki!” you laugh, trying to lift the boxes, but you were failing at it. “I didn’t see you all day, how are you?”

Shouto shrugged, his lower lips jutting out slightly too. 

“Good, I didn’t realize you were working for the festival, all day at that,” he admitted while moving to help you. “How’d it go.”

“Well,” you think about it, watching your friend take the boxes from your hands and holding them with ease despite your own fumbling. “I, um… it was hard.”

Shouto listened to you while you explained how you handled your booth on your own. How this was one of the busiest festivals your city hosted and how you hadn’t had time to relax since the festival began at three. He listened to you without making any input of his own, the occasional chuckle from hearing about entitled customers, or customers who thought buying a red rose for someone they were going to break up with was a bad idea. 

Cleaning up with Shouto with you was relaxing and welcoming, his presence was always one you received, and after a long day, it was sweet and soft. 

But while in his explanation as to who the lady — Yaoyorozu Momo, as he named her — was doing at his shop so late, your stomach wailed in hunger. Your face burned in embarrassment, your appetite finally remaking its appearance. 

Shouto chuckled, finding glee in your horror before nodding towards the hallway that leads to the staircase of your home. He had been up there a handful of times now, and he smirked, “I’ll make you something since we didn’t eat together today.”

“How can I trust you’re a good chef,” you ask, despite already making your way to the upper level of the shop, ready to stay up even longer with Shouto.

The next hour is spent with the two of you eating and talking. The conversation between the two of you is light and flowing smoothly. You’re on the couch with him, a blanket on your laps while you rest your head against his shoulder.

“Tell me about your tattoos,” you mumble, your exhausted body feeling warm and safe against his right side. 

“Which one?” he asked, shifting his left arm towards you so that way you could continue resting on him.

“Any,” you sigh, your fingers brushing against his wrist. “They’re all beautiful.”

So he does.

Shouto tells you about the special ones first. The fire on his left wrist, the ice on the right. They were his first tattoos, something he had associated with himself since he could remember, but a symbol of how they were both significant parts, equal in their fury, but gentle, beautiful, and healing when needed. He had dizzying patterns on his right side, something he had always acquitted to being his more assertive side. The designs were distinctive and almost dizzying to look at, but each pattern he had drawn, each twist and turn meaning something. The black ink was daunting, powerful, and reserved. He even admitted to letting his friends color in the spaces where you could still see his pale flesh, it was something that he enjoyed because even being as old as he was, the childlike entertainment never left when someone did it.

His left side was stunning though, every color in the rainbow melting and mixing on his skin. This side was artistic, bold, a creation of vibrant dreams, and they warmed you up while he explained every secret behind them. He was scary on this side if you couldn’t find the outlines of each clashing drawing, but up close, with your breath gently warming his skin while you peered at his skin, you realized just how gentle it really was. It wasn’t scary or overwhelming. It was quiet, warm, and a soft gesture to who he used to be, and who he was now.

The two of you were close friends, nothing could ever say otherwise, but as the two of you lay on the couch together, you positioned between his legs, your head laying on his chest. Sleep was a mere kiss away when you snuggled into his chest, your finger pressing against the t-shirt he wore.

“I think I’m ready… for you to draw me up a tattoo… do you think you can surprise me, though? I have no ideas…” you mumbled into his chest.

“Of course,” Shouto responded back, and before you could blink, the world turned dark, sleep consuming you in a gentle embrace. 

You weren’t sure if you imagined the feel of his soft lips on your forehead, but when you woke up the next morning, you were alone. The blanket was tucked around you, pillows resting under your head, and a flower sat on the coffee table before you.

A kaneshon.

A carnation.

Your cheeks warmed at the sight of it, knowing immediately that it was left behind by Shouto. Grabbing the flower within your fingers, you pressed the sweet-smelling flower to your nose. If he continued doing this, there was no stopping the way you felt towards him.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆ Five ⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Two weeks later.

“So, what do you think of this?”

You were sitting in Shouto’s private room where he had his tattoo appointments, you were by the wall, sitting on a stool by a desk where he was showing off his tattoo design for you. It was stunning; honestly, it had everything in the world that you could be asking for.

Simple, elegant, and sophisticated.

It fit your personality, hopes, and dreams. 

It was perfect. 

“Wow,” you barely managed to breathe, your fingers touching the sketch he had presented to you. Was feeling it okay? You hoped so.

“Do you… do you like it?” Shouto asked, his eyes trying to read your face, but failed to see how you reacted because he was behind you.

“This is amazing, Todoroki,” you shake your head, pulling back to stare at your friend with a great smile. “I mean, I know I said I wanted you to draw me one, but I wasn’t expecting you to make it so… personalized to me.”

“...you’re special to me,” Shouto admitted, his body both relaxing and tensing under your gaze. “I had to make this special for you.”

“Well, you sure did!” you agree with a laugh, your cheeks warm with your grin. “But how much will this be?”

“4,000 yen,” Shouto answered with a straight face.

You laughed in his face, remembering that all their starting prices were much more than that, “Come on, don’t be ridiculous. How much?”

“I wasn’t lying,” Shouto confirms, his gaze unwavering. “I like you a lot, and you mean a lot to me, so I’m giving you a discount.”

Your jaw drops, you’re unable to speak, words failing you with every breath. “A discount, not a free tattoo.”

“It’s not free, I’m still making you pay.”

“Yeah, and even I know that price is absurd!”

The two of you argue for some time, the money you throw down on his desk is immediately slammed back into your wallet. You feel close to victory; that is, until Shouto threatens to make your tattoo actually free. To that, your lips twist, a defeated look in your eyes while you huff.

“Fine,” you spat, turning around ready to leave the shop, given that your break was nearing its end. 

“Y/n,” he calls out suddenly, and the way that your name sounds on his lips makes you shiver. He had started to call you by your given name as of late, and to hear his warm and deep voice say your name made you wonder why you two hadn’t done this earlier. After all, the two of you were too close. 

“Shouto?”

He looks ready to speak, his tongue wetting his lips while he stares at you, unsure what to say to what to do.

“What did you think of the kaneshon?”

Two weeks later and he had finally spoken about the flower he had left behind.

“It was beautiful, I loved it,” you smiled in return, but you didn’t miss the way that his eyes seemed to cloud at those words. Obviously, those weren’t the words he wanted to hear, but what was it that he wanted? “Another flower to add to my collection.”

Shouto’s lips quirk into a smile, and you watch while he reaches behind his bench and pulls out a tsubaki. You’re silent as he walks it over to you, pressing the gentle stem into your hand.

“For you,” he whispers, and you can feel your heart hammering in your ears at how close he is. The dim lights of his room, the smell of ink, bleach, and, most importantly, Shouto sending your blood into a craze. 

Kiss him, your brain told you, but you were frozen, too busy counting the number of eyelashes he had. 

“You didn’t buy this from me, what are you doing helping my competition?” were the words that came to your mouth instead of the confession you so wanted to give.

“No,” Shouto laughs softly, and he adjusts his position almost to give you dizzying fantasies of him kissing you. “I’m growing them, actually.”

“Oh, so you’re my competition,” you tease, and Shouto sighs, his eyes rolling and nods.

“Yeah, the tattoo shop was a decoy to us becoming the best flower shop in all of Japan.”

“Sounds like I should be worried.”

“Oh, you should.”

There was no denying the fact that the distance between your bartering lips was disappearing, but the shrill beep of your alarm destroyed the space between the two of you as you stepped away. You had an appointment to get to after all.

“Um, dinner?” you ask, stumbling to the door. “Sounds good?”

Shouto nods, his lips in a small smile, “See you then.”

With the camellia clenched tightly into your hands, your blood boiling in your destroyed passions, and the sounds of the others saying goodbye while you left, you felt weird when entering your flower shop, one thought running repetitively in your mind. 

You had feelings for Shouto.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆ Six ⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

You twirled the akaichurippu in your fingers.

It had been two months since you worked out you had feelings for Shouto, one week since he had given you this flower, six days since he started avoiding you, and two days since your parents had finally returned home.

With the three of you now running the shop, you were able to relax a whole bunch more. Your parents had returned on a honeymoon mode, their gazes wistful and in love, finding it almost hard to readjust to the life they had left behind for a year. It had been a year since you had met Todoroki Shouto, and you were baffling in love with him. But you had done something obviously because he was avoiding you like the plague.

He hadn’t been over in six days, and they had been such lonely days without him. Of course, once your parents had come home, it had been grossly lively with their romantic sighs and glees, but it didn’t do much to qualm the Shouto sized hole in you. 

Stupid Shouto, stupid feelings, stupid everything.

Tossing the flower onto the counter, you sat up from your slumped state, watching as your dad swung your mom in a circle. Stupid parents with their stupid love, you bitterly added while puffing out your cheeks.

“Wow, what’s that look for!” your dad caught on immediately, staring at your unamused form. He trailed his gaze down to the red akaichurippu, otherwise known as the red tulip, while your mother stood up herself.

There was a shocked gasp coming from them both, and you watched as your parents approached the counter like excited children, the flower being picked up by your mother.

“Who gave you this?!” your mother asked, her eyes sparkling in glee, and your dad seemed conflicted in the same delight, and distinctive stern dad look. 

“Shouto,” you sighed, your eyes rolling.

“The one that’s ignoring you?”

“The very same!”

“That’s strange,” your dad’s eyebrows furrowed, his head tilting. “He’s just next door, and he doesn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon… why is he ignoring you after giving you the eternal love flower?”

You froze.

“I’m sorry, what?!”

“The red akaichurippu flower is the symbol of eternal love,” your mom explained as if it was basic knowledge. “They’re much more romantic than a boring red rose, in my opinion. You’re also a florist y/n, why don’t you know these meanings or intentions?”

“Oh my god,” you said in horror, and you stood up, racing upstairs to grab the flowers you had dried and pressed. The flowers he had given you throughout this year.

Your parents were shocked when you slammed down the book with flowers, your fingers shaking excessively.

“What do these mean,” you demand, your fingers shaking while you point at the different flowers.

“Ajisai: apologies and gratitude.”

“Himawari: adoration, loyalty, and longevity.”

“Arusutoromeria: devotion, loyalty, ‘I like you,’ friendship.”

“Pink kaneshon: affection.”

“Tsubaki: humility, discretion, and perfect love.”

Red akaichurippu: eternal love.

Red akaichurippu: eternal love.

“I have to go!” you yelled, racing out of the store, the ringing bell and following shouts of your parents doing nothing as you ran into the tattoo shop.

“Shinsou!” you called at the purple-haired man who was staffing the front desk, obviously having no scheduled appointments today. “Is Shouto—?”

“No, he’s taking his break right now,” Shinsou smirked, his eyes full of amusement, which spoke to his knowledge of what was going on. “You can go in.”

You smiled and went down the hallways of the tattoo shop that you knew intimately. You could hear the buzzing of the tattoo guns going off in Bakugou and Midoriya’s rooms, the light chatter that came with passing Kaminari’s room until you made it to Shouto’s room.

It was quiet inside, and as you opened the door to step inside, the flower in your hand feeling heavier than lead when you saw Shouto sitting at his desk, eating cold soba slowly.

“Shouto?” you called, and Shouto didn’t move, obviously ignoring you. 

“Come on, don’t ignore me,” you plead, moving towards the bench only to have him turn towards you, his eyes blank, cold, angry, and burning through you when he faced you. So maybe he wasn’t ignoring you? “Okay, uh, thank you for looking at me, but I need to explain something to you!”

“Make it quick, my break’s done in two minutes.”

A cold sweat erupts in your body, and you thrust the red tulip out.

“Eternal love,” you say quickly, your body shivering at that statement, and Shouto looks at you, then at the flower, then back at you. 

“Yeah, I knew that already, idiot.”

Your jaw drops, and the smallest bits of annoyance pricks at you. You often forgot what it was like to be under his calculating words and not being at his side, laughing at the victims of his words. 

“Okay, well, I didn’t,” you continue on, your fists dropping at your side, annoyance, fear, happiness, and love flooding through your body. “I’m a florist, I know that. I have lived my life as the child of florists, and I have taken on their trade, but one thing I never knew about was flower meanings.”

“What?”

You shake your head, your gaze dropping to the flower in your embarrassment, “I’ve never known any flower meaning outside of funeral flowers, the red rose, and spider lilies, but that’s because of the culture behind it, not necessarily because of the language of flowers. And I was mad at you today, so I had this flower out, and my parents who do know about flower language told me what this meant, and every other flower you’ve bought for me… I didn’t realize you were confessing to me using flowers… I didn’t ever expect a tattoo artist to know the meanings! Had you been a florist yourself, then maybe I would have thought to look up the meanings behind the flowers, but I just assumed it was you picking flowers out because they were pretty.”

“Flower tattoos are popular,” Shouto breathes, his eyes swimming with flashing emotions while he rises to his feet. “It’s sort of my job to know the difference. I mean… you brought over peonies that first night, and they’re a flower you use to welcome other people, so I figured you knew.”

“No,” you laugh breathlessly. “I only picked those out because they were the only flowers I had leftover from that day… I guess you would make an amazing florist after all,” you chuckle, your heart hammering in your whole being while he stepped closer to you. “I’m a blunt person, straightforward confessions are the only way to deal with me.”

“Most blunt confessions have always ended with rejection from me,” Shouto states, his fingers grabbing onto your waist. “That tends to scare people off.”

“Try it with me,” you whisper, your fingers resting on his broad shoulders, the shiver under your skin electrifying as you knew what was happening.

“I’m in love with you, y/l/n y/n,” Shouto grinned, and you didn’t give yourself a chance at responding because you slammed your lips against his.

It was a passionate kiss, one that had your back arched into him, the flower falling from your fingers and onto the floor. Heads tilted with your dancing lips, and fuck was every gentle caress of his lips, sending your mind in a whirl.

More and more, your lips slanted against each other, and there was no say as to what was going to happen next. You pulled away, a galaxy in both your eyes and a desire, a promise for more when he would meet your lips again.

“Shouto, your three o’clock is here!”

The two of you froze, and you laughed, your lips meeting his that sought after yours for the kiss was too short.

“We’ll talk later.”

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆! 𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛: 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑻𝒓𝒚 𝑻𝒐 𝑷𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, encouraging, justifying, supporting nor romanticizing Yandere behavior. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warnings: Mentions of yandere behavior, violence and disturbing scenarios are contained in this post. Read at your own discretion and responsibility.

❧𝙺𝚒𝚖 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐

Hongjoong knew what you were up to, he had eyes everywhere, in the form of cameras, which you weren't aware of. He wasn't scared though. He knew you inside and out, so he knew you would never be able to bring yourself to actually go through with it. Having always been a pushover and complacent person, you'd never harm anyone. And he's also made sure to train you well enough to not try any stunts.

That's why while you two were eating dinner, he watched you out of the corner of his eye while he lifted the poisoned drink to his mouth.

"Wait! Hongjoong don't drink that!" You blurted out.

You quickly got up and tried to snatch the glass cup away from him, but he held it away from you.

"Oh? Why not my dear?" He peered down at you .

Shame took over you as you slumped back in your chair, tears forming in your eyes. How were you to explain to him that you just tried to kill him?

Hongjoong leaned down, his arms resting on the table as his eyes pierced into yours.

"I asked a question and I expect you to answer me."

He gripped your chin and forced you to look at him when you kept your gaze down.

"And when I'm talking to you, I want you to look at me....."

Chuckling darkly, he added:

"Don't make me take you to my room for a little more training."

❧𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚂𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚠𝚊

You were so damn tired of it all. You were exhausted mentally, emotionally, physically and psychologically from Seonghwa's manipulation and abuse that stemmed from his possessive and controlling behavior. At any point you were going to snap and either kill him or yourself.

You chose the first option. You thought you were pretty discreet in obtaining and hiding the poison vial. You only succeeded in the first one.

"Y/N what do you have there?"

Seonghwa's voice startled you. You rapidly tried to hide the vial in your hoodie, but being stronger than you, Seonghwa wrestled it out of your hands. When he realized what you were planning to do, his head snapped at you, cold menacing eyes staring at you. You were fucked.

"You ungrateful little bitch!"

You fell to floor, barely avoiding the glass hitting you when Seonghwa threw it to the wall next to you. You cried out in pain when he pulled you up by your hair, shaking you roughly as he began exclaiming:

"You're lucky I even chose to look at your pathetic and low life self. Without me, you'd be nothing! And this is how you fucking repay me?!"

He shoved you against the wall, where you then collapsed from how badly your right side was aching from the pain of colliding with the concrete material.

"You have 10 minutes to clean up this mess." He ordered before leaving the room.

You looked down at the broken shards of glass. Picking one up, you held it close to your wrist..

Maybe you should have picked the 2nd option...

❧𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘

Yunho couldn't understand why you would try to do this. He loved and worshipped you, and he thought that things are going fine for a while. And then he found the poison hidden in your things. He was completely heartbroken, but he couldn't let you know that. Instead, he had to think of a plan. Even if it was drastic.

He let you be all lovey dovey towards him the night you planned everything, feigning he didn't know. He willingly accepted the drink you gave him, knowing fully well it had poison. He saw you looking at him intently and he sent a chill down your spine when he said:

"Don't be so surprised. It'll take longer to have an effect on me......than on you."

He turned his head and looked at your shocked expression.

"Yes Y/N. I put some poison on your drink as well. I knew it all along."

You went pale as his words sinked in. You quickly got up and ran to the bathroom. You began hitting your hitting stomach on the edge of the sink, sticking 2 fingers in your mouth, anything to trigger your gag reflex and hopefully puke out the poison. You began hyperventilating when nothing was working and you realized you might die.

You were about to collapse on the floor but Yunho caught you and whispered:

"You got two choices right now Y/N: we either call an ambulance while there's still time.....

Or we die together. Either way you're not leaving me and I'm not letting you get away."

❧𝙺𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚎𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐

Yeosang swirled the contents of his drink, eyeing it suspiciously. You could never fool him. He knew the poison better than you did. It was the exact same poison he used to kill off your last lover. Raising an eyebrow he looked at you before saying:

"Baby why don't you take a sip of my drink?"

You dropped your fork and you looked at him with wide eyes. Yeosang smirked when he realized it was indeed you.

"Uh....no thanks." You replied, hoping he wouldn't insist.

"But I'm telling you to."

He got up and slid the drink in front of you.

"So drink it."

Your shaking hand took the glass, spilling some of the liquid from the trembling you had. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

"I can't..... I'm sorry..."

"Why are you apologizing?" Yeosang interrogated you, his voice cool and collected.

You broke down and confessed to everything, how you tried to poison him, even though Yeosang already had it figured out. He made you stand up and held you close as you cried your eyes out. Once he felt you calm down a little, he cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears before landing a harsh slap across your cheek, stunning you, but you should have expected it.

Yeosang was even scarier when he was calm, because you never knew what he was going to do.

"Don't ever try that again." Was his only warning before he patted the bright red spot on your face.

It was definitely going to leave a bruise.

❧𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝚂𝚊𝚗

You tried and tried to pull out of your restraints, even though you knew you had zero chances of breaking free. San always made sure your bonds were tight and secure.

"Look."

You heard him say but you didn't want to look. You gasped when he clenched your jaw with his hand and forced you to look up.

"I said look!" He growled as he held your face up.

You sobbed even harder when you looked into your friend's terrified eyes. You wished it were you instead, you deserved it, not them. You were the one stupid enough to try and poison San. So why must your lifelong friend suffer the consequences?

"I say give it a few more seconds before the poison starts taking effect. I'm actually curious, what exactly were you planning to happen to me?"

It all started and ended so quickly. The image of your friend's body convulsing on the floor, their blood shot red eyes, their gagged breathing followed by the foaming of the mouth....... until their lifeless body layed on the floor, a trickle of blood pouring out from their mouth.

San cringed, as if he were staring at nothing more than a bug.

"What an awful way to die."

Turning his attention back to you, he added:

"Maybe that'll teach you to not get any ideas in your stupid little head."

❧𝚂𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒

You woke up and made your way into the kitchen, fixing yourself some breakfast. It was awfully quiet. You shrugged and put your plate on the table. Looking at the time, you noticed it was an odd hour for your parents not to be up.

"I'm supposed to be the one sleeping in." You joked more to yourself.

You opened the door and went to your parents bed, trying to wake up your mom. Lifting the covers up, you let out a piercing scream when your mom's pale and lifeless face stared back at you, your father in the same condition. Scrambling to get up, you ran to the telephone to call 911, but the line was dead.

"Oh my god!" You cried out as you went back to your room to get your phone.

You opened the door and froze when an all too familiar face greeted you.

"Hi baby cakes." Mingi's deep voice said.

"You?! What are you--- it can't be! You're supposed to be dead!" You exclaimed.

1 year ago, you managed to escape your psychotic boyfriend's clutches, by poisoning him. So why was he here? It had to be a nightmare and you wanted to wake up.

"Supposed to, but I'm not. As you can see, I survived."

When he came near you, you ran away, but Mingi being faster caught up to you really quick. You struggled to get out of his grasp, but he managed to press a cloth on your nose and mouth. In less than 2 minutes, you succumbed to the effects of the gas and fell unconscious on him.

"How cute darling. I missed having you in my arms." He smirked as he picked you up to take you away with him.

❧𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚘𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐

Wooyoung sighed as he stepped over your writhing body. Calmly, he dialed a number.

"911, what's your emergency?" The woman asked.

"I need help! My s/o tried to poison themselves!" He cried out, making himself spill out tears in mere seconds, completely fooling the operator.

Once he hung up though, the tears were gone and his usual cold expression was plastered on again. You tried to gasp for air, your eyesight going black, the last thing you saw was Wooyoung's deadly gaze.

He was also the first thing you saw when you woke up in a hospital bed. Wooyoung played the part of a doting and concerned boyfriend really well, all the medical staff never doubting the veracity of his statements. You on the other hand knew it was all a lie. And he showed his true colors to you while you were alone.

"Tsk tsk. Seriously Y/N, if you're going to try and do something as stupid as trying to poison me, do a better job."

He scoffed at you. It wasn't your fault though. How were you supposed to know he switched glasses with you when you turned away for a second?

He walked up to you and loomed over your fragile figure.

"Don't you dare say anything to anyone, got it? And when we get back home, there'll be hell to pay for your little stunt."

As if going through a near death experience wasn't bad enough, now you were wishing Wooyoung had just let you die instead of just scaring the life out of you....almost.

❧𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝙹𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚘

Jongho was furious, livid with you. He couldn't believe what you were planning to do. Not wasting a minute, he stormed into the living room where you currently were. He flung the poison vial on the couch, where you recognized it and knew you were now screwed.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" He asked, arms crossed over his chest.

You couldn't speak, you couldn't even look at him. You were afraid of him.

"You're seriously trying to get rid of me? When all I've ever done is protect you? Take care of you? When all I've ever done is love you?!"

You flinched when he flipped the coffee table with one hand, sending it flying feet away, breaking once it crashed on the floor.

Jongho grabbed you by your arms and started shaking you.

"Get it straight through your head Y/N: no one will care, love or protect you like me! No one but I gives a damn about you! No one is even looking for you! So why are you trying to get rid of me?"

You let out a yelp of pain when he clutched you too harshly, making him stop immediately. Like flipping a switch, he hugged you and caressed your hair.

"You can't go out there in the world again. You just can't. They'll hurt you and I can't have that.....you need me... I'm your protector and you must stay with me..."

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

[littleoldrachel]

"how much did you drink?"

for the utterly wonderful @gumnut-logic who asked for how much did you drink? with virgil and scott from this prompt list. tysm my lovely 💚💚💚💚 this ran away from me a bit and i am Not Sure but i hope you still enjoy!

[if you wanna prompt me, hmu! but beware i am slooooow]

Scott slinks through the sliding doors, relishing the cooling sweat on his skin as the sky begins its raspberry ripple across the tropical island. His dawn runs are the only time he gets to really be - he loves his family with everything he has and more, but that half hour with just the consistent crunch of earth beneath his feet is his own perfect sanctuary.

And goodness knows he needs it after the past couple of days.

A flash of Alan’s terrified face as the grapple line gave way and he’d plunged -

Scott screws up his face, crumpling the image like one of Virgil’s discarded “rubbish” (read: brilliant, if rough around the edges) sketches.

Speaking of which, it’s time for Scott to do the rounds and check in on his sleeping brothers.

There’s Alan, sprawled haphazardly across the floor of his bedroom - the only sign of his near-death encounter in the careful bandaging around his forearm (“I can too still game like this, Scott, I’m not balancing the controller on my wrists??”). Gordon too, is starfished on his duvet, but beginning to stir as fractured sunlight dances across his room.

Virgil, however - most unusually - is not burritoed in blankets, which sets Scott’s choir of alarm bells ringing. He hesitates, then sighs, patching through to Thunderbird Five even as he makes his way to Virgil’s studio (also empty).

“John?” he asks quietly, because John works on an unpredictable sleep schedule that gives Scott more stress than he cares to admit, but he would like John to be sleeping right now.

“John is sleeping, Commander. May I be of service?” EOS’ voice is more than a little grating in comparison to the bird song that floats through Virgil’s open windows. Scott resists the urge to grit his teeth - he is trying, okay?

“EOS. Hi.” He rubs his chin, eyes catching on the top sketch of Virgil’s messy pile: Thunderbird One streaking across a stormy sky mid-lightning strike. “Can you tell me where Virgil is?”

“Virgil is in the hangars, where he has been for the last thirteen and a half hours,” EOS says primly.

Scott’s head snaps up, even though there’s nobody there to stare at. “What? Did he fall asleep down there?”

“No, Commander, he is very much awake.” There’s something in her tone that riles him up, a pre-rehearsed nature to it, but he deliberately sets it aside for Future Scott. He’s given a curt thanks to EOS before he’s even registered that he’s striding down to the hangars, concern driving him with a speed usually reserved for rescues.

He hears Virgil before he sees him, a loud swear and a clatter of tools as he’s rounding the corner into the workshop.

Virgil is kneeling over a workbench, picking glumly through the jumble of parts skidding across the surface. Dark brows knitted tight, skin pale beneath fluorescent white lights, a graveyard of abandoned mechanisms, drained mugs, and scraps of graph paper all around him.

"Virgil."

It comes out a little sharper than intended, slicing through the silent workshop and causing Virgil to start violently.

"Scott! What are you doing here?"

"I came to ask you the same thing?"

"I'm…" Virgil gestures vaguely at the chaotic work surface. "Fixing."

"Have you had any sleep?

Virgil frowns. "I'm fine, it's not that late yet."

Scott stares, concern steadily rising. Virgil is known for losing track of time when absorbed in a task, but only usually with his art, and only for this period of time when he's upset, working something through, or...

Only then does Scott take in the way Virgil's hands tremble around the pieces of metal in his fingers, the jittering beat of his leg like helicopter wings, and slight dampness of the unstyled waves of hair across his forehead. He blinks at Scott, squinting a little in that way that Scott knows means a killer headache is brewing.

Methodically, the Commander of International Rescue surveys the room, searching for the source of the issue. His eyes land on the culprit: a coffee-stained jug, completely drained save the dregs of coffee grounds plastering the sides of the container.

It’s a big jug.

Scott swears.

“Virg. How much did you drink?”

Virgil’s eyes dart all over, not resting for a second on Scott’s face. “I - I don’t know. I just had some whenever I got tired and now I’m-” He wrings his hands, sending metal parts spilling from his palms.

“But why? What the hell were you thinking?” Scott’s tone is chiding, too harsh, and he makes a deliberate effort to reign in the reprimand that’s rearing up inside him.

“I just... “ Virgil swallows, meeting his eyes for a moment, looking away at the disappointment there. “I just needed to understand what happened to the grapple lines. To make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Oh, Virg.

Scott softens, Commander melting back into Protective Big Brother because he gets it. God knows he gets it. He steps towards Virgil, wraps a hand around his elbow, feels it shake beneath his touch.

But why like this, Virgil?

“For thirteen hours?”

Virgil blinks and the genuine surprise in his eyes is enough that Scott accepts that this wasn’t a deliberate act of self-destruction and that loosens the anxious knot in his chest a little.

“I didn’t mean -”

“I know.”

Virgil ducks. “I just needed to find out -”

“I know.”

Virgil bites his lip, and Scott knows the image of their littlest brother’s panicked face is stuck on repeat in his mind. Scott closes his eyes, allows the video to roll in his own head, and the pain that rips through his chest has him tugging Virgil into his arms for a hug. Big as he is, Virgil is never one to say no to a hug, and he folds himself into Scott’s chest with a sigh. Scott can still feel the tension thrumming through Virgil’s body, and he instinctively tightens his grip.

Trust Virgil to hurt himself with his bean-juice addiction. Frankly, they’re lucky this hasn’t happened before with the amount of the stuff he pours into his body.

“I know I’m not having a heart attack, but -”

“You know I love it when you begin a sentence like that -”

Virgil tries to laugh but it comes out a little shaky. "Shut it, you." He rests his head on Scott's shoulder. "My heart is going so fast it hurts. Feels like a goddamn panic attack."

“What the hell have you done to yourself?”

“Mild caffeine overdose,” Virgil’s voice comes out muffled. “Sorry.”

“Mild. Caffeine. Overdose.”

Virgil laughs again, a little surer this time and pulls back from the hug. “I’ll be okay. Just gonna feel horrible for a bit, I think.”

“You think. Let’s see if Grandma agrees.”

“No! Let her have her time away - this is - it’s stupid. I’m fine.”

Scott gives him a Look, but Virgil glowers right back.

Scott loves him, but Jesus, does he wish he could trust Virgil to be honest with him about his health.

“Don’t make me set you up in the infirmary. You know I’m not bluffing.”

The glare intensifies. “I’m fine, Scott.”

Scott resists the urge to roll his eyes with a truly Herculean effort. “I want to do a scan, just to be sure.” “Scott -”

He plays the trump card (regrets playing it at the look on Virgil’s face, but needs must). “I could have lost Allie too, Virg. Don’t make this harder than it is.”

Virgil sags. He taps his watch. “EOS?”

“Yes, Virgil?”

“Please can you pull up my vitals for my dear big brother to fret over?”

“Of course, Virgil. Though I don’t understand why you want Scott to fret, he seems grumpy en-”

“Thank you, EOS.”

A holograph flickers into view, and Scott scans them, relaxing slightly at the lack of danger. Virgil’s heart rate is too high, as expected, and he’s dehydrated and exhausted, but otherwise, he really does seem okay. Still, Scott knows how dangerous dehydration and exhaustion can be, and more to the point, so does Virgil.

“You’re a stubborn idiot, you know that, right?”

“I learned from the best.” Virgil’s smile is teasing, but he’s okay, and Scott releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, Scooter, whatever you say.” Scott glares. “Right. You’re grounded for at least a day -” To his credit, Virgil only looks a little crestfallen. “- And you’re going to rest.”

Scott can practically see the cogs turning in his brother’s mind as he seeks a loophole or way to escape, but for now, he’s going to ignore it. Another problem for Future Scott, poor guy …

“Let’s go. Up to the lounge, now.”

“I should clear up -”

“Nuh-uh. Lounge. Now.”

Virgil lets out a loud sigh, and with much griping about leaving the workshop messy for Brains, leads the way up to the lounge. Scott follows closely, eyeing how Virgil’s feet drag with exhaustion even as his fingers tap away with restless energy.

Scott deposits him on one of the couches, tosses a throw over him, and resists the urge to tuck him in, but only because -

“I’m not sick, Scott. I’m okay! This isn’t necessary,” Virgil calls after him. Scott returns seconds later, a glass full of water.

“Drink all of this. And then have these.” Scott drops two electrolyte tabs beside Virgil. “Now excuse me, but I’m going to consult a qualified medical opinion before I believe you.”

“I am a qualified medical opinion -”

“- Who hasn’t overdosed on caffeine this morning.”

Virgil scowls. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

*****

Scott returns with Gordon, whose concerned professionalism quickly morphs into a shit-eating grin when it becomes apparent that actually, Virgil - for all his brilliance and talent - is an idiot.

But he’s surprisingly gentle when he fetches Virgil another glass of water and suitably soothing as they take a calm stroll around the flatter paths of the island to help Virgil burn some restless energy. The waft of pancakes draws them back into the lounge where Scott has stacked up thick, fluffy pancakes that melt on their tongues and warm them inside out.

By now, Virgil is visibly less shaky, and Gordon’s concern has dissipated to the extent that he blatantly steals three pancakes off Virgil’s plate. To be fair, Virgil probably doesn’t need six pancakes, but still. It’s the principle of the matter.

Scott - bless his heart - has also queued up the latest series of the ocean documentary that Gordon and Virgil gush over, but that Scott himself finds mind-numbing. The three of them squash together on one sofa, chomping pancakes and squabbling over blankets as the sun rises on another beautiful day.

Alan strolls in, nose first and still half-asleep. “Pancakes?” he says hopefully.

He catches sight of Virgil and seems to shake himself awake immediately. “Virgil? What the hell are you doing up?”

“Language,” Scott says thickly, the effect lessened by the mouthful of pancake and chocolate spread inside it.

“What the heck,” Alan waves a dismissive hand. “It’s barely ten, Virg?”

“Tell him what you’ve gone and done,” Scott says, because damn straight is he going to hold onto this one the next time Virgil’s yelling at him for taking a stupid risk. Well, at least I can drink coffee without poisoning myself, Virgil can just hear it now. .

“I drank too much coffee,” Virgil tells the ceiling.

“Sorry, V,” Gordon says, his smile wicked. “Allie didn’t quite catch that.”

Virgil sighs. “I overdosed on caffeine,” he says loudly.

“That’s a thing?!” Alan splutters. And then he bursts out laughing and Virgil wants to glare because he’s exhausted and his head is throbbing and there’s an anxious wriggle in his chest that keeps poking at his limbs.

But he also thought for one terrible moment yesterday that he wouldn’t get to hear that laugh again. The relief is infectious.

It never takes much to set Gordon off, but cracking Scott is a true victory, because for a second, the lines around his eyes crinkle with something other than stress.

Alan sets himself up with pancakes (far too smug that he’s allowed the chocolate spread on his where Virgil was only allowed syrup), and plonks himself down on Virgil’s right, bandaged arm and all. Whilst Gordon and Alan quarrel over species of tropical fish, Scott looks over at Virgil, raising his eyebrows. Are you okay? it says.

Virgil smiles and nods.

Inevitably, Scott and Gordon are called away on a rescue, just as Alan has grown tired of the nature documentary and is demanding something more exciting. Virgil consents to the first movie Alan picks out, because he’s too busy watching Gordon fly his beloved ‘Bird away with an expert hand.

God, he’s so tired. His limbs are heavy and aching from the tension of holding them in place all night and his head pounds in beat with his too-fast heart..

He’s utterly exhausted. If only his mind could get the memo. Instead it careens between thought processes: the grapple lines, his failed calculations, the disaster zone he’s left the workshop in -

It doesn’t matter though.

Because Alan’s alive and that’s all that matters.

Alan, whose gentle hand snakes through Virgil’s hair in a tender, soothing way that plucks at the knot of anxiety in Virgil’s chest, whose ministrations are a blessed, momentary pain relief for his sore head.

*****

It’s dark when he wakes, though he doesn’t remember his overwrought brain finally giving into sleep. His limbs no longer feel like they’re spasming out of control and his head aches with a more manageable pain, but he’s still drained. On the floor next to him, Alan is snoring at the centre of a nest of blankets - at least two of which Virgil is sure were wrapped around himself before...

He raises his head to look for his water glass, and nearly jumps out of his skin at the sight of his oldest brother standing in the shadows, watching. He’s still in his uniform, which suggests Thunderbird One just docked - presumably her engines through the open patio doors are what woke him.

“What the fuck, Scott?” he hisses.

“Sorry,” Scott says, though he doesn’t sound particularly apologetic. He moves into the light, and repositions Alan so that he can rescue one of the blankets for Virgil once more. “Go back to sleep.”

“Did the rescue go okay?” Virgil asks instead, relieved at Scott’s easy nod - and relatively clean, dry appearance.

“Gordon’s heading back now, all good. And no issues with grapples today, thank God.” Scott’s voice is low but Virgil still flinches from it.

“I’m going to find out what happened, Scott, I swear -”

“I know you will.” Scott’s voice is so firm, so strong that it momentarily steals Virgil’s breath how much faith Scott has in him. "I know you’ll figure it out, Virg. But you don’t have to do it on your own. You and Brains will work on it and find a solution, John’s going to identify the person responsible, and EOS will make sure they can never do it again. But it’ll be when you haven't overdosed on caffeine. Do you understand?”

It’s the kindest of reprimands. The same kind of pleading why won’t you just take care of yourself tone that Virgil finds himself using more and more on Scott these days, but with so much understanding and love, Virgil finds himself blinking back tears.

He can only nod and Scott steps back. “I’m going to go shower. Get some rest, Virgil.”

Scott turns to leave and Virgil forces himself to muster up his barely replenished energy reserves. He snags Scott’s sleeve, “Scott - thank you.”

Scott smiles a smile that’s just them, soft and trusting and concerned. “God knows you’ve looked after me through far worse hangovers than this. But don’t you dare do this again, Virg. I mean it. Don’t make me confiscate all the coffee on the island, because you know I’ll do it if I have to.”

“I know you will.”

Scott runs a hand through Virgil’s messy waves fondly, letting his hand rest at the nape of his neck where the headache pain is regrouping. “Sleep, Virg.”

And he does.

[realcube]

Karasuno and their love languages headcanons

tw// cussing, sexual references

Shoyo Hinata

his love language is physical touch

after every one of his games, the first thing he does when he sees you is tackles you to the ground in a hug 

the day he walks beside you without holding your hand is the he is kidnapped and replaced with a clone 

and he’d always place a kiss on the tip of your nose and vice versa before you went your separate ways on the walk home 

and one time he caught a flu and (because he loved you so much) he wouldn’t go within 10 feet of you for like a week 

and that was the hardest week of his life

he almost had a meltdown on day 3 

HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE WITHOUT HIS GOODBYE KISSES?!

but don’t worry because as soon as his flu subsided, he gave you enough hugs and kisses to compensate for the whole week he missed

Tobio Kageyama

his love language is word of affirmation 

honestly, whenever you compliment his volleyball skills (even if it sounds really amateur) it makes his heart go 💖💞💕💓

not that he’d even admit it though

and recently, he’s been trying to compliment you more because some how he came to the conclusion that he wasn’t being nice enough to you and that you’d leave him for Oikawa if he didn’t step up his game 

so whenever you mention one of your slight achievements to him, he goes insane with the praise 

“Oh, Kags. Did I tell you about the English test?”

“No, you didn’t.” 

“Well, I got a pretty good mark so don’t stress about it. It was an easy test but you should probably still study though-”

“A good mark? (Y/N), that’s amazing.” He said in a monotonous voice, making you snicker slightly. 

Although his flattery didn’t seem genuine, you still appreciated his efforts

At least he tries

he just wants to make you feel the way he does when you compliment him 🥺

Kei Tsukishima 

his love language is acts of service

to him, nothing says ‘i love you’ like helping him fold the laundry 

he does acts of service for you too, like helping you with your homework

or sometimes you help him with his homework

honestly, it didn’t take long for you to figure out this man’s love language considering he’d describe all the other things as ‘shallow’

(other than quality time)

“Seriously? I mean, I’d hate to be in a relationship that was based off of compliments. That shit gets tiring, y’know?” he’d gush to you while you both were buying the groceries 

and don’t even get him started when you make his lunch hhhhhhh

one time he went downstairs to see that you had already made him lunch and at first he thought it was sweet but no big deal so he just texted you 

‘Thx for the lunch btw’

but when he actually got a bite of your god-tier onigiri

he deadass almost got up and said 🚶‍♂️✌

anyway when he got home you got railed so <3

and by railed, i mean you heart got railed because he gave you a kiss on the forehead :3

Tadashi Yamaguchi 

his love language is words of affirmation

again, his heart goes brrrrr whenever you compliment him 

but it’s different depending on what you compliment him on 

when it is on his volleyball skills, he feels chuffed and not absolutely worthless

if it is has something to do with his facial appearance, he gets that warm tingly feeling inside and gets the urge to cuddle you - which he usually acts on 

but if it is a comment on his body..the unholy thoughts-

like on one hand, he wants to crawl into a hole and die

but on the other hand, he is like ‘is that so?’

anyway, he doesn’t act on either of those thing so he usually ends up making a comment about your height in response 

also, you make sure to shower this boy in compliments because he deserves it 

and he does the exact same right back at you because you deserve it too

but he is shy so he either writes a note to you in class or, more commonly, he ends up texting you after a date like 

‘omg I AM SO STUPID AAAAAAA..! I wanted to say this so bad while I was with you but i just couldn’t >< anyway i think you look so beautiful and your hair was absolutely gorgeous in that style, goodnight <3′

Ryunosuke Tanaka

his love language is quality time 

this man has no chill

if you text him like ‘omg i wish you were here bb 🥺’

my mans would be RUNNING WKDHWESAK

his personal motto is ‘get that bread, get that head, get that love and affection, get that attention, get that movie, stay the night, THEN LEAVE! PEACE OUT!’

his home his your home and your home is his home 

then there was that one time that he studied so hard on his tests, just so he could pass and hopefully get moved up into your class 

mission unsuccessful but he did get good grades ^^

Yuu Nishinoya 

his love language is receiving/giving gifts

which is really hard coz y’all are poor lol 

jk jk 

but anyway, sometimes you find a cool rock on the ground and then give it to him like “this rock reminded me of you..”

and honestly, he thinks that his is the cutest thing ever

he has a display on his windowsill in his room of all the rocks you’ve given him ever

and sometimes he’ll catch an insect, put it in a container or a plastic bag and give it to you like “it reminded me of you!”

then he hands you a tub filled with worms lmao 

it’s the thought that counts

Asahi Azumane

his love language is physical touch

contrary to popular belief - it is not words of affirmation

he likes compliments and feeling worthy as much as the next person  but..

sometimes it makes him kinda flustered and self-conscious 

anyway, he thinks that actions speak louder than words

before a game, rather than verbally encouraging him, he prefers it when you play with his fingers or give him a massage 

that relaxes him ten times more than words ever could

 and he might not act like it in front of his friends - but he spends most of his day looking forward to 9 o’clock when y’all can both be together and cuddle in bed ^^

also, before a big game you make it your mission to wake up especially early , find Asahi and do his hair 

firstly, you do it better than he ever could 

secondly, the feeling of your fingers gently massaging his scalp and lacing his hair in between them just made him so calm

and in those moments he would just look up at you with admiration in his eyes and wonder what he ever did to deserve you

Koshi Sugawara 

his love language is quality time 

this man actually gets physical withdrawal symptoms when he is away from you for too long 

and his teammates know symptoms off by heart and the order they appear in so they can identify when Suga is going through YNWF (  Y/N withdrawal fever ):

The first sign of YNWF; excessive lip biting, lip dryness and generally poor lip condition - this is due to the fact that (Y/N) is the one that always reminds Suga to put on lip balm

The second sign of YNWF; becoming lenient and overly nice to the first years - since (Y/N) isn’t here, he has nobody to be nice to. So he is nice to the children.

The third phase of YNWF - and probably the most dangerous; mood swings. He goes from fanon to canon Suga real quick. 

The fourth and final phase of YNWF; denial. 

“No! I don’t miss (Y/N)! I am doing just fine without them.”

Then his teammates force him to facetime you and then he is cured.

Daichi Sawamura

his love language is physical touch 

every second he spends with you, he has his hands on you

not always in a sexual way, ofc

and he’ll immediately back off if you are even slightly uncomfortable with it 

but he just loves he feeling of having you close to him 

it makes him feel like he is protecting you (especially in front of Tanaka)

(’tanaka, nice kill!’)

and when he cuddles you to his chest, not only does it warm you up, but you also feel like you’re making him feel big and strong (which you are), so that makes you happy

also, Daichi will lend you ever single jumper/jersey/jacket he owns if you even shiver within a 10 metre radius of him

Chikara Ennoshita

his love language is quality time 

y’all don’t even need to be talking or even interacting 

as long as he is in the same room as you, he is chill

(Narita and Kinoshita are also quality time kinda guys because it is not like they get any quality time in the actual anime smh)

[whitesparrows97]

Cat’s Cradle – Part 4

Pairing: Cat Hybrid!Yoongi x Human!Reader/Min Yoongi x Reader (slight Namjoon x Reader)

Warnings: This whole series contains angst und explicit sexual content. Also I’m sorry but Namjoon is kind of a dick in this story.

Word Count: 7.4K

Note: Oooh, things are finally getting spicy in this chapter! Also this is the penultimate chapter; I feel kind of sad to end this series. Thanks again to everyone who left a feedback on the last chapter / chapters! Every feedback means a lot to me!

Previous / Next

A little later, when you were sitting at the small dining table in the kitchen, a pleasant silence lay over you. The only thing that could be heard were the forks scraping across the plates. One question was burning on your mind and you waited until Yoongi stood up and put the dishes into the sink to clean them. He had turned his back to you and you knew that you would never have dared to ask the question when his scrutinizing gaze lay on you. 

You cleared your throat once and Yoongi looked over his shoulder in surprise before he turned back to the dishes. “What happened to Seo-yeon?” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper and the running water of the faucet almost drowned out your voice. Yoongi’s feline ears turned towards you, and you knew he must have heard you.

Almost indifferently, Yoongi shrugged his shoulders. “She was getting too tiring, I told her it’s over between us.”

Your eyebrows shot up in amazement. You weren’t expecting that. “Oh, okay.” Oh, okay? Seriously? You cursed yourself with your rather lame comment.

“Why do you ask?” Oh, no, that’s exactly the question you were afraid he’d ask. Yeah, why exactly did you ask? Shouldn’t you not care if and with whom Yoongi shared his bed? You knew you should not. But that didn’t change the unpleasant tug in your heart when you thought that Yoongi was as close to someone else like you, scenting someone else like you.

You tried to put as much indifference in your voice as Yoongi did. “Oh, just because. I haven’t seen her for days, and she was here almost every day last week.” You examined an imaginary lint on your sweatpants that seemed to be particularly interesting. It became even more interesting when you saw out of the corner of your eye how Yoongi turned off the water and put the last plate on the rack next to the sink. 

Your heart was beating wildly as Yoongi bridged the few steps between you and suddenly crouched down in front of you. His dark eyes looked at you through his blonde hair and slightly hesitant he grabbed your hands which were playing nervously with each other. He took a deep breath before he spoke. “I am incredibly sorry for my behavior. I behaved like an asshole and I’m the reason you lost your job.”

You shook your head. “It’s not your fault–”

“Yes it is, Y/N,” he insisted. “The whole situation between us didn’t help us to really be ourselves. And I should not have been so offended by the comment you made.”

“I didn’t mean it,” it bubbled out of you immediately. “You know that, right?”

He nodded and smiled. “I know,” he smiled. He looked at you in silence for a moment before he sighed. “I’m sorry about Namjoon, too…”

You sighed too. “It’s okay, I figured he was cheating on me. I’m not completely stupid,” you added with a laugh. “And you also warned me about him from the beginning. But let’s not talk about him anymore.”

“Are you sure?” You nodded. “Are you really okay?”

A little laugh escaped you. “I think I’m better than I should be, actually.”

He joined in your little laugh before he looked at you seriously again. “I’m glad we’ve got that cleared up.” He got up and pressed a little kiss on your forehead before he straightened up completely. You sat there for a moment, stunned, staring at the back of his blond head. Even if it sounded strange, this gesture was much more intimate for you than the situation before when he had scented you. Because you knew that this action was only his human mind and will and had nothing to do with his animalistic drives.

Yoongi turned to you and you tried not to let anything show. “Is it okay if I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Laughter came out of you, but you couldn’t help it. “We haven’t done that since we left for college, Yoongi.” You didn’t know if you were imagining it, but you could have sworn that a slight pink glow spread to his cheeks. 

“Fine then,” he muttered and turned back. You quickly jumped up from your seat and grabbed his arm before he could disappear into his room. With big eyes he saw you smiling at him.

“Of course you can, Yoongi,” you quickly accepted his wish and the corners of his mouth twitched up for a moment before he put on an indifferent expression again. 

“Cool,” he said in a slightly deeper voice than usual and you couldn’t hold back your laughter. You raised your hand and brushed the hair out of his eyes so you could see him better.

“I can’t say no to my hybrid,” you said in a tender voice and a hand lingered for a moment on his cheek. When you looked into his dark eyes and felt your abdomen contract joyfully, you wondered if it had been a good decision to agree to his wish.

It wasn’t, you realized about eight hours later when your eyes blinked and you tried in confusion to perceive the outline of your room. But all you saw was darkness. The last shadows of your more than realistic dream slipped out of your grasp as you tried to remember it. You wanted to rub the sleep out of your eyes and only then you became aware of the position you were in. You had both hands buried in a t-shirt and your forehead was on a chest that moved up and down regularly.

Immediately your heart beat faster as you felt the hands on your lower back pressing you firmly against the man next to you. The fur on his tail tickled you slightly as it wrapped around your naked thighs. You moved your head slightly and your eyes widened as your gaze fell on the lower half of your body. Yoongi’s leg lay between yours and your heart pounded when you realized how high up it was.

You felt an uncomfortable wetness between your legs and your panties sticking to your core. Oh God, you had to get out of here. You were horrified for a second when you thought that your short sleeping pants had hopefully held everything of Yoongi’s sweatpants. You couldn’t endure the shame if some of your arousal would show on the black fabric of his pants. Another thought made you nervously slide back and forth in his arms. If Yoongi woke up, he would smell your excitement immediately. Then the mood between you would only get weird again. But a scrutinizing look up made you breathe a sigh of relief when you saw his closed eyelids and realized that he was still sleeping.

You had to take a shower as soon as possible and without waking Yoongi. With Yoongi’s strong grip, that seemed like an impossible task. The heat emanating from him made you sweat and was one more reason for you to want to take a shower as soon as possible. You gently pushed yourself against his chest with your hands and tried to push yourself away. Yoongi muttered something incomprehensible into your hair and you immediately stopped moving. Yoongi started to move and strengthened his grip around you. His thigh came in contact with your most intimate part and you couldn’t suppress the moaning which fortunately was muffled by his t-shirt. 

You whimpered softly as you felt the need to move your hips and finally get some friction on your clit. You had to get out of here, right now. Your abdomen was burning and screaming to be noticed as you carefully grabbed Yoongi’s tail and tried to release it from your thigh. The tip moved and waved back and forth briefly. You took the opportunity when his grip loosened a bit and freed your leg.

Yoongi was mumbling above you. Please don’t wake up, you thought as you watched his face. He squeezed his eyes tighter before he smacked his lips once and suddenly rolled over to the side. He had loosened the grip around your back so that you wouldn’t be dragged along with him. Your abdomen contracted as you briefly had the image in your mind of how you would lie on top of him. You quickly wiped this scenario from your mind. 

You were free, the only thing stopping you from sprinting into the bathroom was the blanket that had wrapped itself around you like a cocoon. You took one more deep breath before clammy fingers grabbed the fabric and pulled it away from under Yoongi’s arm. Inch by inch you worked your way forward and almost gave a cry of triumph when the cool air hit your body as you lifted the blanket. Carefully you rolled off Yoongi’s arm and stepped onto the cool wooden floor. The fresh air helped you put your thoughts in order and lift the haze from your mind.

Quietly you grabbed the sweatpants from the day before, a t-shirt and fresh panties; the most important thing as you noticed and grimaced when you felt the material of your panties sticking to you. On tiptoes you went into the bathroom and took a deep breath when the door behind you fell into the lock. You didn’t waste a second when you threw all your clothes into the washing basket and jumped into the shower.

You sighed when the hot water hit your body and just stood under the water stream. If only you had never agreed to Yoongi’s wish, you thought and began to wash your hair and wash the night’s residue off your body. You could guess what your dream had been about even if you couldn’t remember it. Your state in which you woke up spoke volumes.

You listened to the sound of the water a moment before you reached between your legs and your finger touched your clit. You didn’t want to risk Yoongi waking up and didn’t want to waste another second. Especially since your insides were almost trembling and wanted attention. 

With nimble fingers you started to circle your clit and breathed a sigh of relief when you finally felt the release you had been longing for since you woke up. With shaky legs you headed towards your orgasm and leaned against the wall with one hand to get some support. You bit your lip so that no sound fell over your lips. Even though Yoongi was still asleep, you didn’t want to risk anything. You trembled when you were on the verge of orgasm and felt your arousal mix with the water. It almost hurt, so quickly you climbed up the hill to your release. You were so near–

“Hey, Y/N,” you heard Yoongi’s voice on the other side of the door. You froze in your movement. No, no, no, that couldn’t be true. You almost sobbed as you felt your orgasm recede as you removed the pressure on your clit. “What would you like for breakfast?”

The hand you used to support yourself against the wall clenched in a fist. You took a deep breath and tried to calm your breathing down. “I don’t care,” you shouted back and heard how high your voice sounded. You listened for a moment but Yoongi didn’t reply. You let your shoulders droop as you washed off again and turned off the water. You wouldn’t risk it again even if your body was still on fire. 

A glance in the steamed up mirror showed you your flushed cheeks, but you attributed it to the temperature of the water before you went into the kitchen. Immediately the sweet smell of pancakes enveloped you and you closed your eyes with relish. “God, that smells heavenly, Yoongi,” you praised him as you entered the kitchen. 

Yoongi didn’t look up when you arrived and piled the small round pieces of dough on a plate next to the pan. He turned off the stove and put the pan aside before he looked up for the first time. The blood froze in your veins when you saw his gaze, but the moment was so brief that you weren’t sure if you had imagined it. He came the few steps towards you and pushed himself past you. “Would you like to set the table? I’ll take a quick shower,” he said, but before he disappeared from your sight you grabbed his wrist. He flinched almost imperceptibly.

“Are you all right?” you asked anxiously when you saw the red glow on his cheeks. 

He cleared his throat briefly and threw you a little smile. “Sure, I’ll be right back,” he promised you and released himself from your grip. You stood there for a moment, as if rooted to the spot and only the sound of the running shower released you from your rigidity. As you set the table and prepared some fruit to go with the pancakes, you wondered if you hadn’t been as careful as you’d hoped. Yoongi was obviously embarrassed by your behavior. At least you attributed it to that because you couldn’t think of any other reason.

Less than five minutes later, the two of you were sitting across from each other, having breakfast in silence. Unlike yesterday, an unpleasant pressure was upon you and you searched hard for topics, but your head was empty.

Yoongi cleared his throat. “Did you sleep well?” he asked and took a sip of his coffee. You choked on a piece of pancake and had to suppress a cough. The blood shot up your cheeks and your eyes watered as you tried to get the food down your gullet. 

“Sorry,” you squawked as you took a sip of water to loosen the lump from your throat. 

“No problem,” Yoongi laughed. He laughed. You were more sure from second to second that he knew exactly what had happened the last hour and why you reacted the way you did. “Shall we watch a movie after this?”

Glad Yoongi changed the subject, you looked at him questioningly. “Don’t you have to go to work?” 

Yoongi shook his head and ate the last of his pancakes. “Took the week off.”

You raised one eyebrow. “Oh, just like that?” That wasn’t like Yoongi to take the week off for no reason. He got up, grabbed your empty plate and put it in the sink with his dishes. 

“I thought you might not want to be alone after all that’s happened these past few days,” he said casually and your eyes widened.

“Yoongi…,” you started but he stopped you with a gesture.

“Let’s not talk about it. So, what movie do you want to watch?” he dismissed the subject and pulled you by the hand towards the living room. When you agreed on a film a little later, you wrapped yourself in a blanket on the sofa. You could hardly concentrate on the pictures on the TV in front of you. The only thing you noticed was the heat that emanated from Yoongi and spilled over onto you. His shoulder touched yours lightly and with every laugh it gently rubbed yours. 

You didn’t know if it just seemed that way but you could swear that Yoongi had never smelled as good as today. His scent clouded your thoughts and not G-rated pictures inside your head made you forget everything else. You shifted back and forth on your seat when you felt dampness build up between your legs and wrapped the blanket a bit tighter around your body so Yoongi wouldn’t notice.

Still, he gave you a confused side glance. “You alright?” You nodded quickly but he didn’t seem to let go. “Are you cold? I can warm you up.” He leaned closer to you and clasped the blanket you were still clutching tightly.

“No!” you said louder than intended, and Yoongi recoiled. You stared at him with big eyes and for a moment, Yoongi stared at you silently. Then a dirty grin spread across his face.

“If you think the blanket will help me not to smell how turned on you are right now, then I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you,” he said in a low voice and you gasped for air. He raised one hand and stroked your cheek. The skin underneath flared up and became a shade darker. “But I suppose that’s partly my fault, but I just couldn’t resist interrupting you while you were in the shower.”

With eyes wide open you stared into his dark eyes, which were fixating you. “W-What do you mean?” you stuttered, hoping maybe he was joking.

He clicked his tongue and put his hands over yours, which almost painfully clawed into the fabric of the blanket. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He lifted his gaze again and, grinning, uncovered the small pointy canines, which were slightly longer than normal. “I’m a little disappointed that you chose to do it yourself rather than ask me.”

He grabbed your hands and before you knew what was happening, he tore the blanket from your hands. He threw it on the floor and his eyes fluttered briefly as he took a deep breath. A growl that sounded almost dog-like escaped his throat, sending a new wave of excitement to him. Faster than you could see, Yoongi suddenly lay above you and with a small scream, your head hit the armrest of the sofa. 

The hybrid was so close to you that you could feel his breath on your face. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how horny you are if that was all I could smell this morning? Your scent was everywhere,” he explained to you, spreading innocent kisses first on your cheek before moving further down towards your chin and neck. “The whole bedroom smelt of you and the bathroom as well.” He straightened up again to look you in the eye and observe your reaction to what he said next. “I must admit it was really hot when you rubbed your pussy on my thigh in your sleep.” Your breath got stuck in your throat as Yoongi bent down even closer and whispered the next part in your ear. “I almost came in my pants when I heard your moaning and whimpering.”

You couldn’t help it when you tried to close your legs and press them together to get some friction. But Yoongi clicked his tongue unpleasantly and pushed them further apart when he placed himself between them. “So what do you want to do, baby,” he asked you and his tail caressed your upper arm “The decision is yours.”

You looked at him wordlessly. Was this really happening? Or was it just another sex dream you had and would wake up in your bed any moment? 

Yoongi lowered his head and stroked his nose over the sensitive part of your neck and you had to sigh. “I need your words, baby,” he whispered before you felt his sharp teeth against your skin. You shivered and felt Yoongi grinning. He looked up and looked at you with raised eyebrows while waiting for an answer.

You nodded, shyly, while your heart was pounding up to your neck. Yoongi purred and came so close to you with his face that you closed your eyes. You felt the breath of his lips as they gently brushed yours. “I need words, sweetheart,” he whispered against your lips.

If you stretched your head forward just an inch, your lips would lie on top of his, but you knew he would not initiate anything unless you answered his question. So you gathered your courage. “Yes, I want you, Yoongi,” you breathed and a millisecond later his lips pressed passionately on yours.

You moaned into the kiss as Yoongi lowered his hip and his erection hit your center. You didn’t think that Yoongi felt the same as you did. You embraced his hip with your legs and he released one hand from the armrest to grab one of your thighs. He pressed his cock right against your clothed opening and you opened your mouth. The loud moan was caught by Yoongi’s mouth, who took the opportunity to press his tongue into your mouth. He wrapped his tongue around yours and savored your taste before he ran his tongue along your teeth. 

Your abdomen pulsated and you rotated your hips against his. He stopped the kiss and growled before he looked at you. “Are you so crazy about my cock that you can barely hold it?”

You nodded like in a trance. “I want you inside me, I need you,” you admitted breathlessly and brushed the hair away from his face. Your hands remained in his hair for a moment before you brought them to Yoongi’s ears and gently scratched the base where the ears merged into his head. Yoongi squeezed his eyes together and purred briefly before releasing his grip around your thigh and grasping one wrist.

“Careful, Kitten,” he whispered and looked at you piercingly. “If you keep this up, I won’t be able to control myself.” The mere thought made your abdomen contract and you emitted an impatient sound. Yoongi looked down to where your hips met before he slowly looked up. “Does the thought turn you on that I’ll fuck you uninhibitedly until you can’t walk anymore?”

Your choked moan gave him answer enough and he showed his teeth before he let his hip snap against yours. You dropped your head to the side as you moaned, exposing your neck. Yoongi didn’t waste a second when he pressed his lips on it and started sucking. Your hands buried themselves in his hair again and gently pressed him harder against you. Your fingers played around the base of his ears and Yoongi moaned against your neck, sending a shiver down your body. 

Before you could say anything, you felt a hand making its way up your thigh. “Down,” he commanded muttering, tapping your thigh, before clasping your skin with his lips again. You released the hold around his hip and let your legs slide apart to give Yoongi better access. Slowly he untied the knot on your sweatpants which held them in place and looked up at you; a diabolical grin on his lips. He knew exactly how turned on you were and that you were waiting impatiently for him to finally touch you.

You sighed as he straightened up and came to a halt on his knees between your spread legs. He let his gaze glide over your already ruined body, starting at your reddened cheeks, over your lips, to your quickly rising chest. His gaze ended between your legs and he licked his lips. He reached into the fabric of your pants on both sides before he pulled the pants off your legs with a quick movement. He threw them on the floor and stroked your thighs almost tenderly with his fingers. But he paused just before he reached your center. 

Your whining was swallowed by his mouth, which pressed hard against yours. The kiss was rough and you moaned as he took your lower lip between his teeth. You felt his canines as they lightly pierced your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed him closer to you. He pushed out a short laugh before his lips embraced yours again. 

You raised your hips hoping to feel his cock between your legs but Yoongi pushed them back to the sofa with a firm push of his hand. “Not so impatient,” he murmured. You wanted to complain when you felt his hand move away but a second later it was between your legs. You moaned into the kiss as he gently ran his finger across your slit. He groaned as he moved over the soaked material of your panties and put some pressure on your clit.

You wriggled under his touch and Yoongi released his mouth from you. His gaze lingered briefly on your lips which were slightly open and reddened by his kisses. With a satisfied purr he grabbed the hem of your t-shirt and pushed the material upwards. Surprised, he looked up when he noticed that you were not wearing a bra. “Naughty girl,” he whispered and embraced one of your nipples with his mouth.

You moaned and pressed your upper body against his touch. His tongue circled your sensitive nipple and he began to suck. “Oh God, Yoongi, please don’t stop,” you moaned and pushed his head further towards your chest.

You cried out when you felt sharp teeth on your nipple, which gently nibbled at the sensitive part. Your legs slid even further apart as far as the sofa would allow and Yoongi brought his fingers back in contact with your clitoris. He now circled the other nipple with his tongue and gave the breast the same treatment as the other while his fingers pressed against your opening.

You released your grip from his hair and placed your fingers under the material of your panties. You tried to pull them down but Yoongi grabbed your wrists. With a lewd “pop” he released your nipple from his mouth and put some distance between you so he could look at you. The sight almost took your breath away when you saw his eyes almost black with desire.

“So you want my cock so bad, baby?” he whispered and you nodded eagerly. You grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and without protest, Yoongi let it slip over his head. Your gaze fell on his trained chest, on which some drops of sweat had already collected. Your gaze glided further down to the small trail of dark hair under his belly button, which made its way down and disappeared under his sweatpants. Out of the corner of your eye you saw his bushy tail swaying satisfied behind him.

You glanced briefly at Yoongi’s face as he watched you before you gathered your courage. You had always wanted to try it, but you knew how intimate the gesture was. That’s why you’ve always shied away from it. Carefully you brought your hands in contact with Yoongi’s hips and he lowered them a little so that you could reach them better. Your fingers moved backwards over his kidneys to the point where his tail met his body, just above the sweatpants. 

He dropped his head as you began to stroke the base of his tail and a loud purr escaped his throat. He pushed his hip towards you to get more of your touch, but now it was up to you to release your grip. He growled and raised his head to give you a sharp look. But you just grinned. “What’s wrong, Yoongi?” you asked ironically and with a raised eyebrow, but Yoongi just looked at you coldly.

“The laughter will be gone in a moment, baby,” Yoongi warned and you cried out in surprise when Yoongi suddenly tore the panties off your legs. A second later your t-shirt followed. With slightly shaky fingers he grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants and had some trouble getting the knot open before he quickly pushed them off his hips. Your breath faltered as your gaze fell on his erection, which was more than clearly visible under the fabric of his underpants and created a remarkable tent. “You won’t have much more to say when my cock is buried so deep inside of you that you won’t be able to form a single sentence,” he promised you and also yanked his underpants off his hips. 

Your mouth watered when you saw the little drop of white liquid that had collected on the tip of his cock. As if by itself you raised your hand and stroked over it with your thumb. Yoongi moaned softly at the contact and when you brought your thumb to your mouth and pushed it in while looking deep into his eyes, it seemed as if he was holding his breath completely. You closed your eyes with relish as your tongue absorbed the drop of pre cum and tasted the slightly salty liquid. 

You removed your thumb from your mouth and smiled at Yoongi, who watched you with slightly open lips. “Fuck it” he said and attacked your lips again with his. He moaned into the kiss while he could still taste his cum on your tongue. Without warning he brought his cock in contact with your slit. His thick tip pressed lightly against your opening and you interrupted the kiss to catch your breath.

You watched him with a look between your bodies as he wrapped his cock so tightly that his knuckles were almost white. He moved his tip along your labia and spread your arousal on his cock. His tip was again at your opening and he looked up strained. It seemed to cost him every drop of his willpower not to penetrate you directly. “Do you think you can take my cock like that? Without any kind of preparation?”

You hesitated for a moment when you thought of his size, but when you felt how wet you were and how your abdomen contracted around emptiness, you nodded. You tilted your hips and felt his tip penetrate you without resistance. At the same time both of you moaned as he penetrated you and his cock stretched your inner walls open. “Baby,” Yoongi moaned as he pushed his cock all the way into you with one quick movement and his pelvis hit yours. “Fuck, you’re almost sucking me in,” he said breathlessly as your muscles contracted around his cock.

You wiggled your hips to let him know that you could no longer stand his standstill. “Please move, Yoongi,” you whispered as you brushed through his hair. 

Slowly he looked up and your heart skipped a beat as your eyes met. “Think you can handle my dick?” In his eyes lay mischief and you rolled your eyes.

“If you don’t move, we’ll never find out,” you returned impatiently. Without another word, Yoongi pulled his cock out of you until only the tip of it was left inside you. He looked at you briefly before he penetrated you hard. You squeezed your eyes together and gritted your teeth as his cock almost split you in two. His pelvis crashed against yours and you knew you’d be bruised tomorrow, but the thought only turned you on more.

Yoongi picked up a steady pace and with every stroke his hip slapped against yours and pressed himself comfortably into your flesh. It was almost shameful how wet you were, which was more than clearly audible in the small living room. The only thing louder than that was your moaning, which followed after each thrust. The whole day and your interrupted orgasm in the shower made sure that you quickly reached the point where you had been interrupted before.

“God, baby, are you close?” Yoongi pushed out between his thrusts. You nodded, unable to formulate words and sentences. Yoongi lowered his head and his teeth brushed against your neck where your heart was throbbing loudly. “Come for me, kitten,” he whispered and at that moment, your release came upon you.

You squinted your eyes and your mouth fell open in a silent cry as your abdomen twitched irregularly. Yoongi’s rigorous rhythm didn’t stop once and as you slowly came down from your orgasm, you wriggled under him. “Yoongi, too much,” you said as his cock almost unpleasantly touched your sensitive walls. Immediately he stopped moving and to your displeasure he started to pull his cock out of you. 

Your abdomen contracted around nothing when you saw his cock, which glistened from your wetness. Yoongi grabbed his shaft hard and started to stroke his hand up and down. His hand glided easily over his cock thanks to your moisture while he watched you lying underneath him breathing heavily. “Turn around,” he commanded and leaned back so that he sat on his knees. You drew in your legs and followed his command as you turned to your side. “On your knees,” he continued. You continued to turn and kneel down before leaning your upper body forward and resting your forearms on the armrest of the sofa. This position made sure that you were stretching your bottom towards him and he had a perfect view of your opening.

Faster than you could see, two hands were on your hips and Yoongi’s cock was at your opening but could not penetrate you without help because of the angle. “You almost look like a cat, the way you present yourself to me,” Yoongi said and his voice dripped with lust. “Do you want me to breed you, baby? Is that what you want?” He released one hand and grabbed his cock which he placed at your opening. You wiggled your ass to let it slide into you like the time before but Yoongi pulled back a few inches.

A second later his flat hand landed hard on your ass cheek. You moaned and let your forehead drop between your arms onto the armrest. “Behave, baby, or I’ll teach you a lesson.”

You bit your lips when the brief thought came to you to do just that as a jolt went through your body thinking of what Yoongi would do to you. His hand hit your naked skin again and the loud clapping and the slight burning sent shock waves through your body. You felt your arousal run out of you and dripping down your thighs. Yoongi seemed to notice it too and he laughed softly. “Oh you like that? Does the thought turn you on of me bending you over the armrest and spanking you so hard that you won’t be able to sit properly the next few days?”

You nodded and Yoongi’s hand slapped your ass hard again. You tried to press your legs together as your abdomen contracted painfully. Yoongi put his knee between your legs and forced you to spread them again. Without another word, he placed his cock back at your slit and pushed into you with a strong thrust. You cried out when his cock hit hard against your G-spot. 

“I warned you, baby,” Yoongi said behind you and grabbed your hips again. With every thrust, he pulled you against his hip and it was his firm grip alone that kept you from flying forward. 

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you brought out and tried to find support in the armrest. One of his arms wrapped around the middle of your body and before you knew what was happening he had brought you into an upright position. His bushy tail took the place of his arm and wrapped around your waist, across your belly. He pressed you against him with it and you were surprised for a moment how strong his tail was. The surprise did not last long though as Yoongi’s hand gently wrapped itself around your throat.

You gasped as he pressed ever so lightly and slightly cut off your air supply for a brief moment. The moment lasted only a second before he released the grip again, but he kept his hand on your neck. Your hands were looking for support when he picked up his pace again and you thought you were going to fall forward at any moment. He took your hand in his and brought it over your head to his head. Your fingers buried themselves in his hair and he moaned as he put his head on your shoulder. 

You moaned loudly as his tip hit your G-spot with almost every thrust because of the new position and abused it with his hard thrusts. His other hand, which was not on your neck, stroked your stomach and then reached between your legs. You cried out as he pressed your clitoris hard and began to circle it. 

“Yo-Yoongi,” you said and tilted your head to present him to your neck. “Mark me,” you brought out breathlessly and pressed yourself closer against him. His movements faltered for a moment before he exhaled a laugh. His fingers around your neck touched the spot where he would bury his teeth. 

“You want me to mark you, huh?” He stroked the spot once more before his grip wrapped around your throat again. “Not today,” he whispered into your ear and quickened his pace once more. The finger on your clitoris bordered on painful and yet it kept sending you further and further towards your orgasm. “Come for me, kitten, so I can breed you,” Yoongi whispered and sent you over the edge.

Your breath faltered when you saw black dots and the hot excitement washed over you. Your muscles, which clenched around Yoongi’s cock, made sure that he followed a few seconds later. His movements became less precise as he penetrated deep into you and a few thrusts later shot his sperm deep into you. You moaned as you felt it hit your walls. It hardly seemed to stop as he pumped every last drop into you with a groan. 

Used up he let himself fall on you and under his weight you collapsed as well. For a moment you just lay there and despite his weight it was not unpleasant. You saw his tail, which lay joyfully next to your face and swayed back and forth. You felt Yoongi’s cock relax inside you and his sperm run out of you. This seemed to bring him back to reality as he pushed off on the palms of his hands and slipped out of you completely as he straightened up. He reached under the coffee table and pulled out a handkerchief. Carefully he brought the material between your legs and you flinched slightly.

“Sorry, baby,” Yoongi said gently and began to clean you up. He reached for the handkerchiefs again and you had to laugh as more dripped out of you. 

“How much did you shoot into me?” you asked smiling and looked over your shoulder at Yoongi. You saw a pink glow over his cheeks but decided not to tease him about it. He seemed to find the situation more than embarrassing. Yoongi didn’t seem to have an answer to that either because he was only silently cleaning up the mess he had made. When he finished, he threw the dirty handkerchiefs on the floor.

You turned back on your back with aching bones and Yoongi handed you your panties and t-shirt. Thankfully you took it from him and let your gaze glide over his naked body one last time before he got dressed. You flinched slightly as you put on the panties and the fabric hit your sore core. Yoongi sat down back to you on the sofa when he had put on his shirt and underpants and stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Sorry I was a little rough.” He looked at you slightly nervous, but you pressed your lips gently against his. At once he seemed to relax.

“That’s the last thing you need to apologize for,” you admitted with a laugh. 

Yoongi smiled as well but it vanished quickly when something was obviously still burning on his mind. “I didn’t mean that with the impregnation,” he said softly and looked at his intertwined hands. The redness made its way across his cheeks to his neck and you had to suppress a laugh. 

You reached under his chin and lifted it up so he would look at you. There was uncertainty in his eyes, maybe even some fear that you didn’t accept this side of him or even found it repulsive. If the exact opposite was true. “Babe,” you said softly and his eyes lit up at the nickname, “you don’t know how hot that was.”

His eyes narrowed as you spoke and he looked more catlike than ever as his gaze patterned your facial expressions to judge how serious you were. A grin spread out and the uncertainty in his gaze had disappeared as he approached you and surrounded your lips with a tender kiss. You sighed as he parted from you far too quickly. He leaned against the armrest on the other side of the sofa and patted once on the space between his legs. 

More than willingly you bridged the distance between you and made yourself comfortable between his legs. You leaned your back against his chest and his arms wrapped around the middle of your body. He put his head on your shoulder and took a deep breath. A satisfied humming made you turn your head slightly. “What is it?”

He shook his head, but you insisted on an answer. He rubbed his cheek against yours as he muttered contentedly, “You finally smell of me, my scent is practically stuck to you.” The last part he said almost shyly, but you snuggled up closer. 

“Good, then every hybrid knows I belong to you,” you said contentedly. You heard Yoongi drawing in the air behind you.

“Are you serious?” he asked and his voice sounded hopeful. “Even when you told me to mark you…”

You remembered with a smile and nodded slightly. “Of course, I wouldn’t have said it otherwise. I know it’s not a thing to say lightly.”

Yoongi didn’t reply but just pressed his head back to yours and drew small circles on your belly where the T-shirt had slipped up a little. You just lay there silently for a while and enjoyed each other’s presence. You listened to his regular breaths and closed your eyes. It wasn’t long before you almost drifted off into a dreamy slumber. But you were torn back from it when you felt Yoongi’s tail against your bare thigh. 

You opened one eye first, then the other as you watched Yoongi’s tail make its way upwards from your thigh. The tip of his tail stroked over your panties and you couldn’t hide the grin. The fur tickled you slightly as it slipped between your legs and your hips twitched slightly upwards. “Still not satisfied?” Yoongi murmured at your throat but you heard the grin in his voice. “That’s not acceptable, I can’t let that happen, that my human isn’t completely satisfied,” he said more to himself and brushed along the waistband of your panties with his fingers.

You let your head roll against his chest as he pushed the fabric of them aside and stroked your labia. “You’re so wet again,” Yoongi whispered above you. “Your smell is driving me almost crazy, you know that?” His finger played around your opening just before he pushed into you. You sighed as his fingertip searched for the little rough spot inside you and found it with a curl of his finger “So tight and wet, even though I almost fucked the soul out of your body just now,” he continued to speak and your abdomen tightened tightly at his words. 

He pulled his finger slightly out of you and the next time he penetrated you with two fingers. The slight stretching made you moan softly and you let your legs slide further apart. He curled both fingers and hit your G-spot. He relaxed his fingers again before making the same movement again. You could hear how wet you were and you knew that if Yoongi continued with this movement for much longer, you would probably never get the stains out of the couch again. But the feeling that spread inside you kept you from stopping Yoongi. He knew what he was doing when he buried his fingers deep inside you in quick “come here” movements. 

A loud ringing that echoed through the apartment made you both flinch. You moaned, but this time for a different reason when you grabbed Yoongi’s wrist and he reluctantly pulled his fingers out of you. With shaky legs you stood up and pushed your panties back into place while reaching for your sweatpants. 

“Baby,” Yoongi’s voice made you look up as you pulled the pants over your legs. “Hurry up,” he said, wrapping his mouth around his two fingers where you could see your arousal shining more than clearly. You had to suppress a moan as you took quick steps towards the door. You pressed the buzzer and opened the door when you heard footsteps outside the apartment door. You had expected a postman to bring you a package. So you froze in shock when none other than Kim Namjoon stood on your doormat and had the audacity to grin at you.

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