#honestly it's stupid i would like to exchange my body/brain for a different one

[neonpigeons]

maaaan I wasn't going to do anything for Halloween cuz I kinda forgot and had no motivation to try but now I'm seeing everyone online having fun and dressing up and I'm 😔😔😔

[obeiii-mee]

Hello! Can I request an hc about a shady MC who's not phase by anything in Devildom with the brothers (and Diavolo?? he deserves love!!!)? Like, when Luci's like "i CaN KiLL yOu hUmAN", MC's reaction was like "Oh... congratulations then." i need more shady mc who may or may not be planning to ruin your life😂😂 Thanks and take care!!❤❤

The Brothers + Diavolo with an MC that is not phased by DevilDom

__________________________________

Pls I need more shady MC, they would not take any shit from the brothers. Put any Gen Z-er with these guys and you’ve got yourself a suicidal and reckless human exchange student.

They wouldn’t know what to do with one of those ahaksbakanhaka you’re right, Diavolo deserves all the love >:(((((((

You better take care too >:( thanks for sending me this big brain request. I’ve been preoccupied with other projects so I took a while to get to this ask. Hope you’re doing OK💙

____________________________________

Lucifer:

-He thought having a human exchange student was going to be bad enough as it is but this…..this was so much worse than he could have ever imagined

-The moment you arrived, he already knew you were going to be a problem child and a persistent one at that

-Literally the first thing you asked him was : “Why do you look like an off-brand Levi Ackerman?”

-And he was left there, astounded, confused and offended because he had no idea who you were talking about (cuz at that point you hadn’t met the third eldest) and the tone you had was, frankly, pissing him off

-You kept wondering off on your own????? Without looking like you gave a shit even though you almost walked into a butcher’s shop that specialises in human meat???? Tf MC?

-Also really irritated that you couldn’t be intimidated and that DevilDom was like a playground to you, for some reason? Like, MC get out of the fiery pits of eternally tormented souls- this is Hell, not the McDonald’s ball pit ffs

-Things did not improve for him lmao, by the end of the first week he had already ripped out a good chunk of his hair because of you

-“MC, you should know by now provoking demons like this for no good reason is only going to make life harder for you. Keep this up and you’ll get killed in no time because of your behaviour.”

-“Great, can we have a hip-hip and a hurray?”

-In the span of one day, he’s had to come to your rescue six times (approximately) because you’re too nonchalant about your surroundings around literal creatures of hell

-He doesn’t have enough coffee or will to live for this bs

-“Lucifer, I found this dead plant and brought it here because it reminded me of you.”

-“…..sigh. Why? Why does it remind you of me?”

-“Because it’s cold and unresponsive.”

-He made the consecutive decision to ignore you

-(low-key kept the plant tho)

-Honestly, you get on his nerves a lot and he has definitely contemplated killing you in the past but at the end of the day he really can’t bring himself to do it

-We both know he tried a few times lmfao

-“I will tear you limb from limb, human-“

-“Can I finish my tea first.”

-“You…wait, what?”

-“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting this tea get cold. Try to kill time before I’m done and I’ll smash this cup against your head.”

-If you try hard enough, you might even elicit a laugh out of him, especially if your shadiness is directed at any of his brother which results in him patting your head affectionately

-Nowadays he’s just concerned because you seemed to have made an alliance of sorts with Belphagour and Satan and that’s not a good sign

-For his sake, if not yours, at least try to survive the year without getting chomped on by a random demon please

-He’s too stubborn to let you die just because you’re unbothered by everything so cut him some slack and help out damn it

Mammon:

-“Oi Lucifer, how come I’m stuck babysittin’ this stupid human?”

-“And how come I’m stuck with this asshole for a tour guide, with his fake ass designer shoes and no brand sunglasses. That’s a lot of smack talk from someone with crow shit stains covering the back of his jacket. Also, did you stick your hair in a bucket of mayonnaise?”

-……..

-He was so offended lol

-Normally, humans like you cower in fear whenever demons are as much as mentioned because of the whole “I can eat you whole” thing

-And here you are; insulting the Avatar of Greed and one of the princes of Hell himself just because you didn’t like his attitude

-Don’t worry tho, he warms up to you in less than a fucking month simply because you still come to his rescue whenever his brothers start insulting him and wow, look at that, his heart is now combusting on the floor

-“Y’all have no right to criticise Mammon when he has the most self control out of all of you.”

-“Since when does Mammon have any self control? He can’t keep himself from nicking anything that looks shiny.”

-“Motherfucker, I don’t see him trying to choke me to death, respectfully pls shut the fuck up. I don’t want to say I have favourites but if I do, it’s definitely him.”

-While Mammon’s in the background, with hearts instead of pupils in his eyes like ❤️👄❤️

-He doesn’t even mind running around after you anymore (will still complain about it though because your ass is in constant danger and he’s had enough)

-Honestly, you keep starting shit with random demons, some of which are quite powerful mind you, and you don’t back down even when he’s there to step in

-Would low key love to watch you fight one of your classmates at RAD and organise a ticket selling booth for the event but Lucifer will hang him a new one if he does

-So for now, he sticks to baring his teeth at the aggravator in question and you’re there, giving the same demon the middle finger

-The way you sometimes match his energy gets him so hyped up lmao

-“Mammon, did you steal Levi’s money again?”

-“T’s none of her business human. Now go away, shoo!”

-“Bitch, don’t ‘shoo’ me, I ain’t a bird. Now tell me, did you?”

-“…..Why do you ask?”

-“Because a new flavour of instant noodles just got announced, called ‘Super Hell-Sauce Flavour’ and I thought you might be more interested in that than wasting the money on gambling.”

-“….ok but only if you come with me to buy some.”

-This…this is true love right here

Levi:

-Oh no, now there’s two of you

-Why do I feel like his energy would match MC’s almost immediately? Maybe it’s because he spends too much time in his room on the internet like the rest of us do

-“What do you want, you stupid normie?”

-“300…..”

-“….300 what?”

-“300 mangas collected, thousands of episodes of anime watched, over 60 character figurines, plushies, body pillows, merchandise and several posters only to be called a fucking normie by a demon weeb that’s only known me for 10 minutes.”

-Boom, instant friendship

-He becomes attached to you almost immediately and now that he knows how unphased you are by DevilDom, he is seriously worried

-Hell, you’re making him consider going outside his room just to make sure you’re alive and not dead in a ditch somewhere because you decided to get on someone’s nerves that particular day

-Even during the quiz thing, when he almost kills you, you’re just sitting on the floor and awkwardly watching him as he throws a sissy fit

-Levi feels sort of conflicted with you because one one hand you’re good company and he loves having you around, you’re his Henry after all

-But on the other hand, you put yourself in so much danger it makes him paranoid so often to the point where he wants to keep you locked in his room and wrapped in bubble wrap

-Nearly had a heart attack when you almost walked right into a pit of lava like MC???? This isn’t one of his video games???? You’re not gonna respawn if you die????

-Besides all that, he gets a bit jealous of you confidence and your ability to just do whatever without fearing death or consequence

-“MC, how do you do it?”

-“Do what?”

-“How do you go about your life without a care in the world?”

-“I guess I’ll tell you my secret Levi. I’m not like other humans that’s why, I’m just so unique I do things differently.”

-“You sound like a pick me-“

-As long as you’re OK and not injured because of your carelessness, he’s indifferent about your behaviour and will even applaud you for your bravery when it comes to this sort of thing

-“lmao the human exchange student just dumped Solomon’s cooking in the trash while looking him dead in the eye 💀💀💀”

Satan:

-Your attitude towards DevilDom and demons in general kept him entertained, if nothing else

-You rarely seemed to consider how much of a threat that place really is and usually you were just running around, completely ignoring Lucifer’s rules and doing your own thing

-Which, you know, he’s all about

-I can’t say there were no incidents between the two of you

-With his short temper and your tendency to say things without caring about the consequences, there were definitely moments when he might’ve snapped on you

-“MC for goodness sake, what happened to my room?”

-“What do you mean?”

-“It’s an absolute mess! I just told you to bring me my spells and curses book, not mow through everything!”

-“It’s not my fault this place is built like a fucking labyrinth. You should be grateful I went to get it for you at all, I almost tripped and died several times on my way back. Also, you should get a new ladder for your shelves. It did the broken.”

-“MC….”

-“Yes?”

-“You are so lucky I love you.”

-Other than the fact his anger takes over him when things like these happen, he not so subtly encourages you to keep going because seeing Lucifer scowl at your antics gets him wheezing his lungs out

-I like to think Satan would be very impressed, even in the beginning, at the amount of nonchalance you can radiate at times

-I mean, you sure as hell don’t see it often and he loves how unpredictable you are more often than not

-If anything, he should probably thank you-idk how, but his patience has increased significantly every since you got here and he appreciates having some more control of his emotions

-“I’m gonna go put oil in Lucifer’s shoes.”

-“Do you have a death wish?”

-“Satan, I am old enough to make my own decisions and I concluded that this action is necessary.”

-“Necessary for what?”

-“Raising everyone’s morale! All of you seemed to feel down lately so I thought this would be fun for everybody!”

-“Except Lucifer, right?”

-“Except Lucifer. He grounded me from my D.D.D like I’m a fucking teenager who needs to be supervised-pssshht, I’m the most responsible one here.”

-“Yes clearly.”

-“Goodbye dear Satan, I may die today. But it’s for the greater good! (Dramatic exit with sound effects)”

-“WAIT MC!”

-“(pops head back in) yes?”

-“May I offer you my assistance?”

-You’re basically taking turns pranking his brothers and it’s hilarious

-Satan is not too worried about your well being simply because he knows his siblings and him are always going to be nearby to save you if you pull something stupid again

-Even so, he checks up on you throughout the day; just to make sure

-“Where were you?”

-“Running from a bunch of demons. Who wanted to go munchy crunchy on me, I assume.”

-“……”

-“Either that or people here are a lot friendlier than originally expected.”

-You can be such a handful and it really tests him, especially when he’s angry enough to begin with

-But despite your amazing talent at either getting completely lost around Hell, purposely walking into a prohibited place just because you felt like it or riling up others with how blunt you are, he still cares about you deeply

-You may be a pain the ass, but you’re his pain in the ass <3

Asmo:

-He should’ve known something was up with this particular human when you stood there, completely calm and collected, while Beel salivated at the thought of eating you on your first day

-Asmo just brushed it off for a while but it kept happening???

-The first time Lucifer ever told you off, you really went and said “Or what? Are you going to eat me? If so, you can go ahead and start with-“

-He came to your rescue and covered your mouth before you got to finish and before Lucifer unleashed his wrath on to everyone in that house

-“OOPSIE! I think MC has been spending too much time with me. Sorry Lucifer, we gotta run now! We have a party to attend, don’t we MC darling?”

-“You mean the one hosted by the guy that tried to kill me because I shoved into him on the hallway at school and then proceeded to tell him to go fuck himself right back into whatever hell hole he was born in before you came and charmed our way out of it?”

-“Yes.”

-“Ah OK. “

-You’re tiring for sure but you’re not exactly unlikeable

-You have a certain charm hanging about you that Asmo loves

-“I almost died like…30 minutes ago.”

-“WAIT WHAT?? WHY?? WHAT HAPPENED-MC ARE YOU OK???”

-“Yeah, I almost drank some poison today because someone told me it was water. It smelt off though so I didn’t.”

-“….”

-“Anyway, I got you this bracelet on my way home.”

-He really does wish you would take things a bit more seriously

-This is your life on the line, you know? What would he do if you died?

-“MC, you’re not immortal, you can die so much more easily than I can, you know that right???”

-“I don’t care.”

-“Well I do! And you should too….”

-A lot of people don’t see past his vanity tbh, because he can be such a caring person towards the people he loves

-The amount of videos he has of you appearing to be completely calm while pure chaos is descending in the background is pretty impressive

-Every time he uses his charm on you to try and get you to commit his sin, it just doesn’t work???? For some reason???? And even if it’s just with simple, innocent affection for now, he is determined to tempt you into it

-“MC~gimme a hug!”

-“But that’s social interaction and I don’t support it- do you have a charger for my D.D.D by any chance?

-Or at least die trying to ig

-Asmo loves having you around but you’re giving him wrinkles and that’s not okay >:(

Beel:

-The moment he realised how carefree you actually were, he sort of started checking up with you quite frequently throughout the day

-It’s his way of protecting you but if he could, he would follow you around all the time

-Becomes your body guard because you may not care enough about your safety but he certainly does so get ready to be carried everywhere

-You will not get hurt nor will anyone mess with you if he has a say in it and let me tell you, he does

-Thing is, his brothers mostly know him for being slightly dense in some aspects of day to day life

-He’s not perceptive of things that don’t involve food or his loved ones

-And because you most definitely are a loved one of his, he does notice how careless you are really often

-And it scares, rather worries, him because DevilDom is an incredibly dangerous place-even with all the precautions they had taken when you came

-“MC get down, you could fall.”

-“But Beel, look-I’m finally taller than everyone else! Taller than you even! Hey, should I do a backflip?”

-He has no idea why you thought jumping from 60 meter high cliff into a small river of squashed demon blood was a good idea but he wasn’t going to risk anything just because you felt like showing off your diving skills

-Proceeds to carry you away, completely unfazed

-In this case, I feel like Beel is not someone who gets bothered by the horrible things happening around there either

-As long as he has food and his family is safe and happy then he’s also happy, as mentioned above

-But he knows he’s alright with DevilDom because he’s been living here for centuries now

-A bit curious as to why you’re so unbothered

-And even more curious as to why you weren’t terrified of him transforming in his demon form after he lost control when he found out you ate his pudding

-Or more like Mammon did and pushed the blame on you

-“YOU. ATE. MY. PUDDING!”

-“Beel I love you but if you did not just see Mammon shoving the damn container in my mouth two seconds prior to this, then you might need glasses.”

-He apologised to you later for it but even so, you didn’t seem to mind like at all and he didn’t really understand why

-Unless you end up explaining why exactly you feel so indifferent about your life being in potential danger, he won’t really pry

-But now he has even more reason to follow you around like a lost puppy

-Since it’s clear you don’t really care about protecting yourself

-So now it’s his job to do it

-MC protection squad? Mostly Beel and Mammon

-ahhh he cute

Belphie:

-Oh

-You piss him off so much

-He’s trying to have his moment, you know?

-Finally getting that glimmer of satisfaction after killing a human as a way to avenge his sister’s death

-Trying his hardest to make it as miserable as possible because he has so much rage in him, he needs you to suffer

-“Harder Daddy-“

-“Oh fuck off.”

-Nah but for real, what the fuck MC

-Why does he even bother, he feels like he should be sleeping instead of dealing with your bullshit

-Even afterwards, when your future self shows up and he tries to kill you again, you look more thoughtful than irritated???

-Lucifer and Beel are literally holding him back from doing another Chocky on you and you’re standing there, looking at him with your eyebrows raised

-“Hey Belphie, I have a quick question. I know you’re trying to kill me and everything but do you like the colour blue?”

-“HUH??!?!”

-“It’s a simple yes or no question Belphie. Do. You. Like. Blue?”

-“WHAT DOES IT MATTER???!!!”

-“BELPHAGOUR, AVATAR OF SLOTH-YES OR NO, JUST FUCKING ANSWER!”

-“YES! FUCK YOU!”

-“Ah ok thanks. I like blue too :)”

-????????????

-Pls he felt like sticking his foot down your throat

-As of late, he’s kind of glad he didn’t manage to scare you away that day and that he didn’t traumatise you or something

-At the time, he was mad because he didn’t understand why you weren’t scared but now he just wants to make it up to you

-“You didn’t deserve any of that. I’m sorry MC, I won’t blame you if you decide to stay away from me now.”

-“Stfu dipshit, what’s gotten you so depressed? Did you have another fight with Beel? I told you not to eat the last slice of cake.”

-“Rude ass, I was trying to apologise for my past mistakes-let me repent will you?”

-“Said no demon ever. Now let’s go hang out you emo bitch.”

-Y’all vibe together on a spiritual level once that shit gets sorted out

-But he’s kinda scared you might pull out a knife on him ngl

-Obviously, you’re still annoying as fuck with that indifferent attitude of yours but he can live with it

-He appreciates the fact that you’re not scared of him, even after what he’s done

Diavolo:

-Ah yes, the future King of DevilDom himself

-He’s very enthusiastic about the idea of you having fun this year…..and to keep you alive….

-He, of course, expected a range of reactions from you when he first summoned you here

-None of which were “Ok but could you not have given me a heads up? Before the whole teleportation thing? I face-planted your onto marvellously polished the floor and now I think I lost even more brain cells than before.”

-He felt so bad gagajajahahwgehhsb

-He apologised for bringing you out here without any warning like that and then proceeded to introduce you to everyone

-Diavolo is actually kind of relieved to see you’re handling everything pretty well

-He thought that maybe DevilDom was too much for a human to deal with

-Meeting Barbatos also went incredibly smooth

-“Barbatos? The one that cleans the floors right? Big fan of your work, I could eat off the floor of the main hall.”

-He’s so glad to see you getting along with everyone and not getting intimidated by the brothers

-It gets him excited thinking about how the exchange program is gonna work and all three realms will be united

-But he’s not stupid so don’t think he’ll allow you to stumble around, getting up to all sorts of mischief

-He always has someone watching you because he would hate to see you die, despite being pretty fond of your carefree attitude

-“MC, please be careful. Most demons here aren’t all that nice.”

-“Aye aye Captain.”

-He fears that many demons would take your indifference as a challenge and try to assert dominance or something by kidnapping you

-As far as creatures of hell go, they love installing fear in people

-So he always keeps an extra eye open for you

-And he’ll be there to help you if something goes wrong

-But other than that, he’s pretty chill as well and he finds you so hilarious, it’s been a while since he’s seen someone as eccentric and dramatic as Mammon and Asmo

-Idk what else to add here, Diavolo is very accepting and as long as you don’t get hurt, he’s glad you can get used to your new surroundings so easily

———————————-

Al~

[gnocchighoul]

The boys (+undateables?) reactions when they discover MC is actually a vampire?

....so I’m a dingus and didn’t realize that this was also for the undateables and just wrote it for the brothers, my bad 😅 Part two maybe? 👀

WARNING: as this is about vampires, it’s a little bit morbid. I strayed away from being too graphic, but y’know. Vampires. There’s death and blood and such. 

Enjoy! :D

~

Lucifer

In hindsight, he really should have figured it out on his own.

But it’s not like he’s been around enough humans lately to know what Normal human behavior is. 

So he just kinda took your... quirks at face value.

So what if you’re far too comfortable with the Devildom’s constant state of nighttime? Solomon doesn’t seem to mind it either, so maybe humans are just more nocturnal now.

And perhaps your Very Strong aversion to garlic is a little odd, but Mammon wouldn't eat it either for the first 600 years of his life, so it’s not that weird.

You’re also not phased by constantly being surrounded by demons and monsters, which is a little strange, but maybe you’re just like the ancient greeks. A monster fucker.

You feeling right at home in the Devildom is auspicious for the exchange program, so he doesn’t bother dwelling on it.

Though maybe he does find it a little bit weird when you really insist that he start drinking cranberry juice.

(It’s just for health benefits of course, totally has nothing to do with you prepping your next meal)

So what, you may ask, triggers his big lightbulb moment?

You fall off the roof.

And you just get right back up.

Now he knows that humans aren’t supposed to be THAT durable, so he stops you from scaling the side of the fucking house with your bare hands, and very eloquently asks you, “What the fuck?” 

You shake him off. “What? Mammon and I are playing roof-ball.” 

Lucifer stares. “You fell. I saw how hard you hit the ground. You should be dead.”

You laugh. “Dead? Just from a little fall like that? Are you serio-ohhh wait. You don’t know, do you?” 

You give him your biggest, cheesiest grin and—oh. 

Fangs.

...And now he understands why you want him to drink cranberry juice.

Mammon

You are, by far, the weirdest human he’s ever met. 

Which is saying something, because Solomon is literally just a few blocks away.

Seriously, despite camping out in your room nearly every single night, Mammon has never seen you sleep, he’s pretty fucking sure that sometimes you don’t even breathe, you won’t step foot into the House of Lamentation unless someone invites you in, and who the hell hates garlic that much?? 

But you’ve also expressed your intense dislike for crosses, so he supposes that you’re not unredeemable. 

Just weird.

But it’s incredibly annoying how you wont sleep. Your tossin’ and turnin’ is killing him, why the fuck can’t you just settle down? You need to just put your DDD down and sleep already, dammit.

He sits up, ready to tear you a new one—and pauses. 

“Um,” his voice is high, somewhat uncertain, and your eyes snap over to look at him. “Why are you looking at coffins for sale?” 

You sigh, a bit wistfully. “I just can’t stand sleeping in a bed anymore. I didn’t want to be rude, so I really did try, but it's been a couple hundred years since I last had one and it’s just murder on my back. I think I’m gonna just have to get a coffin. They’re so much more comfortable.” 

Briefly, Mammon considers running. 

Instead, he says, “What the fuck?” 

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You do know I’m a vampire, right?” 

...What the fuck—

Mammon lays back down—crosses his arms over his chest with a huff and pretends that he isn’t totally freaked the fuck out. “‘Course I do, don’t be stupid. Now go to sleep already.” 

So that he can escape before you try to eat him.

“Mammon,” you sing, leaning over the bed to loom over him. He swallows hard—can’t look away from your sharp, toothy grin. 

You coo, “I can hear the scared little pitter patter of your heart, darling.”

He squeaks.

Levi

Honestly, Levi is so so happy to have another irl friend who’s into video games that he looks past your strangeness.

You like to stay indoors and play games!! That’s something he has in common with you that his brothers don’t, and that’s all that matters!

...Though he does find it a little weird how sometimes you just kinda sniff him. 

The first dozen times he nearly had a heart attack, and when he asked why you were doing it, he Really wasn't expecting you to shrug and say “I dunno, you just smell tasty” 

Seriously. Tasty? Are you Beel or something, what’s that supposed to mean?!

He’s not entirely sure why you’re a bit of a shut in gamer though, because despite your, ah, quirks, you’re still so much cooler than he is, so what’s the deal with that?

When he asks, you just shrug and say, “Old habits die hard, I guess. Real sunshine hurts, but virtual doesn’t, so I just got kinda used to living through games and staying indoors.”

“Oh.” Levi’s a bit surprised, but sympathetic. “So, you sunburn easily?” 

He’s not entirely sure why you’re laughing now, since that wasn’t a joke. He was just trying to be friendly :(

But then you hug him and he’s too flustered to be offended anymore jndcks

So, when does it finally click for Levi that you’re a vampire?

You guys are having a game night in his room.

He accidentally takes a sip of your caprisun and realizes, very quickly, that it is not the refreshing juice of a caprisun pouch.

He throws up a little bit.

And screams.

And maybe blacks out for a few seconds.

But when he finally calms down and lets you explain, he’s pretty damn enchanted, because this is just like Help, My Roommate Is A Vampire And I Didn’t Know Until A Vampire-Hunter Mistook Me For Them And Attacked Me!! :D 

Satan

Satan considers himself to be somewhat of a detective, y’know. His brain is just filled to the brim with Big Smarts

Naturally, he puts that jelly thicc thought tank of his to good use and realizes very quickly that you aren’t totally human. 

At first, he isn’t totally sure what you are.

And then a coffin gets delivered to the house, which upon seeing you cheer “Oh sweet, my new bed!!” aaaand he puts the pieces together.

You become somewhat of a case study to him. You’re the first vampire he’s ever encountered and he just wants to know everything and anything about your life.

He’s so intrigued by you.

But you frustrate him SO much.

He wants to know about how you were turned!! It’s not like he has any other vampires that he can ask about their experience!! And you fucking tell him a different story every day!!

“A cat jumped over my deceased body!”

“I was stabbed and the wound wasn’t treated with boiling water!” 

“On a dark and stormy night, I came across a palace and the owner, a hospitable gentleman, let me take refuge there. But then, I quickly realized that I was actually a hostage, and when I tried to escape, that fucker turned me!”

“Nobody put an obolus in my mouth to pay the toll of the Styx, so Charon the ferryman sent me back! What a great guy.” 

“A chupacabra bit me!”

Needless to say, he considers breaking the wooden leg off one of the dining room chairs and stabbing you with it, but the lecture he would get from Lucifer just isn’t worth the effort. 

He’s gonna pull the truth out of you one of these days.

Asmo

“My my, darling, what sharp teeth you have~” Asmo purrs, lifting a finger to brush against them, doe-eyes wide and curious. “The better to eat me with, hopefully?” 

You smile. “Something like that.”

And you fuckin’ bite his finger.

His scream is fantastic. If you actually draw blood next time, maybe he’ll even shatter the windows! 

He swats your leg sharply with a silk folding fan and cries, “What if you had broken my skin!? Do you have any idea how much time and effort goes into maintaining this soft, supple skin?! What’s wrong with you, you psychopath?”

“Don’t hit me,” you pout, scooting away from him. “I couldn’t help it! You just smell so sweet and I haven’t had any blood in a while, so—”

“Huh?” Asmo blinks, looking a bit confused. Then recovers far too quickly and waggles his eyebrows at you. “Oh, so that’s what you’re into! What a pleasant surprise~” 

You thunk him on the back of the head. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to tease a vampire?”

Asmo’s grin could rival the sun.

“A vampire?! Well why didn’t you say so sooner?” 

He’s already taking off his shirt.

“Get over here already and take a bite out of me~”

Beel

When he finds out that you’re a vampire, his first thought is to worry over if you can eat normal food or not.

He’s very relieved when you tell him that you can, so long as you’ve had enough blood, but that garlic is a very big no-no.

Naturally, you two bond over how both of you never quite feel full. 

It’s not uncommon for the other house members to find you two laying face down on the floor, tummies rumbling, whining about how you’re staaaaarving

You carry around snacks for him, and Beel makes sure that you’ve always got access to blood (whether that means stashing blood bags, letting you feed from him, or a combo of both ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

He’s probably going to be the least weirded out by your ~undead tendencies~

Honestly, he’s a bit relieved by how strong you are. The last thing he ever wants to do is hurt you or see you get hurt, and it gives him peace of mind when he realizes that you’re actually pretty durable!

But it does give him a fucking heart attack the first time he sees you yeet yourself out a second story window to crush poor, poor unassuming Mammon.

He also really loves how your body temperature naturally runs cold. He’s a space heater, you’re an icicle—it just works. Snuggle time is good :)

He totally compares the size of your incisors with his jkdcnkj

He just thinks you’re really neat!!!

But he is very sympathetic about how you cant eat good garlic bread :(

Belphie

Listen.

We all know this emo boy is a vampire fucker, probably even more so than Asmo.

(He read Twilight. He saw all the movies. He had merch.)

(Fuck Edward and Jacob though, he was Team Alice all the way.)

(If he can stay awake long enough, he reads really shitty vampire romance novels.)

He just thinks vampires are hot, okay? He can’t help that his soul longs to be a vampire fucker.

Just accept it into your heart. Belphie already has.

So needless to say, he’s THRILLED when he finds out that you’re a vampire. He tries to play it cool though and pretends that he isn’t immediately trying to jump your bones dfghjkjh

He overheard you telling Satan that you got bitten by a Chupacabra, and they’re known for going after cows right? 

He is a cowboy, y’know, guess you’re just gonna have to go to him now when you’re thirsty, y’know, since you were bitten by a Chupacabra. it just makes sense, really ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(No it doesn’t)

(But let’s be real, are you gonna pass up the chance to snuggle the shit out of him AND get a snack out of it? No. No you’re not.)

(He totally makes you arm wrestle Beel to recreate the “Iconic” twilight scene with Emmett and Bella.)

(When he realizes that you’re strong, he’s gonna make you give him piggyback rides, just like Edward and Bella :) and no he doesn’t care how ridiculous you both look)

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: NHS non-fatally qi deviates. How do NMJ and the others take that?

ao3 

Untamed

It had always been something of a behind-closed-doors debate – a chicken-and-the-egg problem, what came first, what was the cause and what was the symptom.

Was the Nie sect’s atypical cultivation method the reason behind the notorious Nie temper? Or were they born with the temper, and the cultivation method merely built upon that? Which one was the reason for their clan’s tendency towards early qi deviations?

Nie Huaisang usually threw his money on the “blame the cultivation style”, almost entirely for the sake of pissing off his brother.

He was starting to think, though, that he’d been wrong.

Aituan wasn’t even anywhere nearby, after all, when he started bleeding out of his qiqiao, his qi disordered and violently raging inside of him and still somehow, somehow not enough to assuage the rage in his heart, in his head –

“Nie-xiong! Nie-xiong! Nie Huaisang!”

Nie Huaisang turned with a snarl, but Wei Wuxian was already holding up his hands in surrender, Jiang Cheng quickly following suit a second later, and in the end he wasn’t really angry at them.

“I’m pretty sure you’re done,” Jiang Cheng said cautiously. “You’re – you are done, right?”

“I dunno,” Wei Wuxian muttered. “I don’t think Wen Zhuliu is entirely paste yet – there’s still a few bones Nie-xiong hasn’t crushed down into dust…”

“Shut up.”

“I will not.”

The familiar bickering was soothing, like slipping into a hot bath at the end of a tough day – like arguing with his brother about silly things, scoring a clever point and getting one of his brother’s rare smiles. Nie Huaisang felt his shoulders relax a little, and he lowered the stick –

“Why am I holding a stick?” he asked blankly, looking down at it. He didn’t remember picking it up at any point. “And why is it…uh…”

“Covered in the blood and guts and possibly brain matter of your enemy?”

Nie Huaisang swayed, suddenly light-headed. “…that,” he agreed, voice weak.

He slowly became aware that there was something squishy and wet under his feet, soaking into his shoes, and he very carefully did not look down.

“What happened?” he asked faintly. “What did I – actually, on second thought, don’t tell me.”

Jiang Cheng’s expression was a strange mix of being impressed with him and pitying him, and honestly Nie Huaisang preferred the pity. No one was impressed with him, not ever, and in retrospect he rather liked it that way, if the alternative was…

“You defeated the Core-Melting Hand in one-on-one combat,” Wei Wuxian said. “Congratulations.”

Nie Huaisang gaped at him.

“Don’t you remember?” Jiang Cheng said, blinking at him. “He said something about your brother, and you suddenly lost it –”

Nie Huaisang remembered, suddenly, and he felt a sickening lurch in his stomach as his vision flickered red around the edges again, and he imagined he could hear Aituan shouting his name from thousands of li away. How dare that man, that stone-face bastard who looked so long-suffering and yet underneath it all was so cruel and unfeeling – how dare he say such a thing about his da-ge –

Nie Huaisang had been angry the entire time he’d been here at the indoctrination camp.

Really angry, not the silly little temper tantrums he usually threw back at home or the occasional shouting matches he had with his brother to vent steam. He hated it here. He hated the fact that he was here in the Nightless City, the one place his brother had always refused to bring him no matter how embarrassingly impolitic it was, the place Sect Leader Wen had murdered his father over a stupid dinner table conversation. He hated the fact that his brother had tried to protect him, and failed only because he’d gotten distracted by Meng Yao of all people.

(He hated the fact that he’d had to learn that fact from one of his retainers, weeks too late and him already gone to the Nightless City, too late to apologize or make it up; hated the fact that the last words he’d said to his da-ge on the subject were cruel ones, blaming him for sending away his friend, when in fact his friend had torn off his face to reveal something dark beneath. He hated that his brother had just taken those cruel words from him, suffered under his accusations, without defending himself from them, because he blamed himself for – for what? For being just, the way he was supposed to be?  For protecting him?)

He hated the Yin metal, the vile corruption he could feel for all that they were in a different part of the palace. He hated Wen Chao making them memorize and recite, which he was terrible at, and he hated him for making them do it outside in the hot sun and the hot earth until he fainted from heatstroke, his weak golden core insufficient to protect him the way the others did them.

He hated Wen Ruohan, he hated Wen Chao, and he hated, hated, hated Wen Zhuliu.

Most of the boys at the indoctrination camp had gotten the idea that he wasn’t that bad, for all that he was terrifying, because he always looked so bored about everything, like he was having to fulfil all of this as a torturous duty instead of a pleasure, but he’d been the one to carry Nie Huaisang back inside after he’d fainted and he’d said some things about his brother then, when Nie Huaisang was too weak to do anything, and today he’d come by, watching Nie Huaisang struggle to set up the small tent he’d been given for their travels, and he’d said them again…

“He wanted to steal my brother’s cultivation,” Nie Huaisang said through numb lips. His hands were clenched, quivering with rage that was impossible to bury down in his heart – was this how his brother felt all the time? No wonder he was so straightforward about most things; forget scheming, it was amazing he could even think. “He wanted – he didn’t even think of him as a person. Just dirt beneath his feet, fruit ripe for the plucking, some animal he could slaughter as a prize to give to his wretched master –”

He’d even said, today, that they could use what was left over as a corpse puppet, and chuckled when he thought of what the great Chifeng-zun would have thought of that.

Nie Huaisang had been angry ever since they’d arrived, full of bile and choler and rage.

His family never did handle their rage well.

“You had a minor qi deviation,” Wei Wuxian said solemnly, looking at him. “You’re still bleeding – your eyes, your nose, your ears…We need to get you to a doctor.”

“We need to hide the body before anyone finds it, that’s what we need to do,” Jiang Cheng said.

“We can do both! Multitasking!”

He was very lucky to have such good friends, Nie Huaisang thought to himself, and toppled over.

He woke up back in the sorry excuse for a camp, with Wen Qing acting as his doctor and Wen Ning as her assistant, taking care of him (it had taken an embarrassingly long while before Nie Huaisang remembered their names, for all that they’d come to lessons at the Cloud Recesses, too, both of them, and even though they’d all gone on a whole mission to the village with the goddess statute together afterwards, but in his defense he was really bad at memorizing - anything), and while Wen Qing kept herself nice and professional, Wen Ning kept shooting him extremely impressed looks that Nie Huaisang didn’t think he deserved.

He hadn’t actually defeated the Core-Melting Hand in one-on-one combat, no matter what Wei Wuxian said. He’d launched a surprise attack at the back of a man who wasn’t expecting it, because no one ever expected anything from Nie Huaisang.

“You have remarkable arm strength,” Wen Qing said (she had looked amused when he asked about her name, blushing with shame), sounding casual but clearly fishing a little. “It’s hidden by your thin frame, and even further minimized by your choice in clothing, but actually you have significant muscle there.”

“Saber practice,” Nie Huaisang explained. “Sabers are heavier than swords, and rely more on brute force. At home, you train a lot with heavy things even before you get your own saber, just to make sure you can wield it properly – you have to have a good arm.”

He’d been barely mediocre by his sect’s standards, and even that level he’d only achieved through years of nagging, threatening, and occasional bribery on his older brother’s part. He shouldn’t have been able to win, but Wen Zhuliu hadn’t even been looking at Nie Huaisang when he’d said what he said, hadn’t seen the moment he’d snapped and attacked, his disordered qi giving him extraordinary strength even as it turned against him to destroy him internally, and if there was one thing that saber style taught you it was not to let someone who’d fallen to your blade get up again.

(Had his brother brought out Baxia against Meng Yao, before deciding to let him go? He couldn’t help but wonder – it was bad luck if he had, a severing of the relationship in an unfixable way, but he wasn’t sure his brother would be strong enough to resist trying to repair it if Meng Yao ever came back. Where was Meng Yao, anyway?)

Attacking a man from behind wasn’t really honorable, he thought glumly, and he thought he understood for the first time why his brother was so strict about such things: it didn’t feel good to have done it this way. It felt like cheating, made every approving gaze feel like a lie, like something he didn’t deserve.

“So what happens now?” he asked, and Wen Qing shrugged a little helplessly. “Does, uh…”

“Wei-gongzi and Jiang-gongzi are hiding the remains,” Wen Ning volunteered. He looked way too cheerfully when he said ‘remains’. Possible budding mass-murderer? Or maybe he’d just been a doctor’s assistant for too long. “Wen-er-gongzi hasn’t noticed yet – he’s still with Wang Lingjiao.”

“But he will notice,” Nie Huaisang said.

“As long as he doesn’t blame any of you, does it matter?” Wen Qing said.

“…if you have an example of Wen Zhuliu’s handwriting, I can probably forge it to look like a note saying he was summoned back by Sect Leader Wen.”

Wen Qing and Wen Ning exchanged looks he didn’t quite understand, but they brought him what he needed, and by the time they got trapped in a horrible underground cave with a gigantic man-eating Xuanwu the next day, Wen Chao still hadn’t figured it out, though he’d been in an awful mood the entire time.

“Why are you sitting down?” Jiang Cheng scolded him even as he dashed around fighting Wen sect soldiers, and see, this was why Nie Huaisang didn’t ever fight. It only made people expect him to do it more – Jiang Cheng hadn’t scolded him at all for hiding behind things before…

Before.

“Leave him alone,” Jin Zixuan said. He hadn’t been there, so he still looked disdainful and dismissive; it was amazing how much of a relief that was. “He can’t help anyway.”

“But –”

“My head hurts,” Nie Huaisang said plaintively, and it had the benefit of being both true and working very effectively to get Jiang Cheng to head as far away from him as possible in a sudden rush. After a while, he got up and picked up one of the swords some unfortunate Wen sect retainer had dropped.

“I have no idea what I’m doing with this,” he said, very seriously, to yet another unfortunate Wen sect retainer, before lifting it and bringing it down, saber-style, the way his brother had all but beaten into his head.

That one didn’t seemed like he was expecting it, either, even though Nie Huaisang was right in front of his face and everything.

It felt a bit better, though – Aituan didn’t like the Wen sect one bit, he thought a little muzzily, and wondered why he’d thought that, since after all Aituan was all the way back at home – and he was a little less ashamed to stand with the rest of them as they tried to figure out a way out of the cave.

“You probably shouldn’t do that,” he said to the Lan disciple who picked up a bow and was trying to aim it at the Xuanwu. “You’ll miss.”

The Lan disciple glared at him.

“Not as bad as I would, mind you,” Nie Huaisang said, looking at it. He felt as though he was standing behind a pane of glass and nothing could touch him - not pain or fear or anything, anything but rage. “I’d probably miss the turtle entirely. I’m just saying that it’s angry now, so the shot’s a lot harder to make; maybe five people could make that shot.”

“Lan-er-gongzi could make it.”

“Yes, well, Lan-er-gongzi isn’t human,” Nie Huaisang said, quite seriously, and the Lan disciple’s lips twitched. “Seriously, don’t waste your time – or your arrows. If you’re anywhere good enough at archery to even think that you could make that shot, you need to keep them to protect me.”

“Are you in need of protection?”

“Oh, always,” Nie Huaisang said blithely, the way he always did, then paused and grimaced. “Most of the time, anyway. I got sick, earlier.”

He was pretty sure the Lan disciple didn’t understand what he meant by sick.

“You don’t really want me to protect you,” the disciple said, frowning. “Do you?”

Nie Huaisang wanted everyone to protect him. He never wanted to fight again in his life.

But the Lan disciple looked like he was a little pleased to have been asked, like no one had ever asked him before, and Nie Huaisang suddenly felt a sudden stab of empathy hitting him straight in the heart.

“I do. I’m pretty sure all the other Nie disciples here are short-range fighters –” His brother had sent as few of them as he could manage, and only sent any at all because he wanted someone there to keep an eye on Nie Huaisang. To protect him. “– and they’re mostly hotheaded idiots –” That was definitely true. “– and I really, really don’t want to end up in another situation where I get sick again, because my brother will never forgive me. So I could use an archer.”

“…okay,” the Lan disciple said. “I’m Su She.”

Nie Huaisang nodded. “I promise to apologize to your sect later on for taking up your time.”

He managed not to be sick the entire journey home.

Maybe it was an aberration, he thought, maybe –

When he got home, his brother was holding Aituan in his hand instead of Baxia – she was in her sheath on his back – and he rushed over to him at once, presenting the saber to him before he did anything else; confused, Nie Huaisang accepted his saber, wondering if he was going to need to go practice or something, and the second his hand wrapped around the hilt –

Oh.

Oh.

His head abruptly cleared, the fog he hadn’t even realized was there finally lifting, the rage draining out of him and back into Aituan – not an especially angry saber, as they went, but still a Nie saber with all that entailed. His qi finally, finally straightened out, stabilized, and he felt like he could breathe again, his mind free and clear now that he had a saber in his hand.

Like all the other Nies before him.

Doomed.

And then he was in his brother’s arms, being held tight.

“Oh, Huaisang,” his brother said, and his voice sounded raw and broken, almost as if he’d been weeping. “I never wanted this for you.”

Nie Huaisang hugged him back.

“It’s okay,” he said, and the buzzing in the back of his head that was Aituan agreed with him. He’d been there the whole time, ever since the first incident; it didn’t matter how far away from each other they were. “It was a small one, it passed, it’s fine…”

It wasn’t fine, and they both knew it – Nie Huaisang might not know the details of all their clan secrets, but he knew enough to know what it was he was so carefully not knowing – but what was there to say?

It was still his family. It was still his heritage.

(He wondered what Meng Yao would say, if he knew. He wondered if he would pull his saber back the way his brother had, if Meng Yao ever betrayed him.)

“At least I can help fight now,” he said, joking, and his brother glared at him.

“Not a chance,” he said. “You’re going to go somewhere safe. You can go with –”

“Su She.”

“– with Su She back to the Cloud Recesses; it’ll be more secure there than here.”

It was about what Nie Huaisang had expected.

“Okay,” he said. “But not now.”

His brother’s eyes flickered down to his saber. His lifeline.

“No,” he said. “Not now.”

[silversatoru]

the thin line between hope and despair

yelena x gn! reader

synopsis: you’re in love with yelena, and she feels nothing for for you. constant hook-ups and faded morals = very messy feelings

tags/warnings: nsfw, some smut?, angst, unrequited love, one-sided feelings, fuck buddies

word count: 2.5k

a/n: for my my sweet bby girl @brandmeyelena <3

Yelena knows what she’s doing with you isn’t right — on so many fucking levels. Taking advantage of your utter desperation for her over and over again when she knows damn well that she couldn’t care less about you. It wasn’t fair, especially for you, but she just couldn’t really find it in herself to feel sorry for someone so pitiful. You were so willing to devote yourself to her in exchange for mere crumbs of her affection, and it was pathetic. You left a sour taste in her mouth, a taste of sorrow and complete wretchedness, but you were also the perfect distraction. The perfect relief from all of her stress and all of her responsibilities with the volunteers. She was tired, and you were just so damn desperate to make her feel better — so how could she refuse? The answer was simple, she couldn’t.

That exact thought process is what landed her here today, with her fingers around your throat and your eyes rolled back into your head. She knows you love it too, being used like this — the way your cheeks grow flushed and your eyes get foggy when she cuts off the circulation to your brain. But she doesn’t do it for you — Yelena enjoys these things just as much as you do, her power hungry ego being fervently stroked by dominating you like this. Pinning you underneath of her and giving you orders made her feel in control — and that was perfect, because god knows she isn’t in control of anything else in her life right now.

Get down, she’d hiss at you, pointing to the floor with her long, slender index finger. Your pathetic frame would sink to your knees instantly, wordlessly doting to her every command. She’d lean back on her shoulders, her hips propped on the edge of the bed, and give you an expectant look. You know what to do. Do it, her voice would snarl, her empty eyes swirling with hunger. You’d feverishly obey, launching yourself forward and graciously opening your mouth for her pussy. You were dedicated to your craft, taking your time and ensuring that your tongue consumed every inch of her. Yelena’s head would fall back and, raspy, wet noises gurgled from her throat. She was entirely consumed by this twisted bliss — and she was a horrible monster for letting you do these things to her, but she felt far too good to care.

So now here you were, your tongue buried deep inside her while you worked desperately to make her feel better. She was quieter than usual today — the only things to leave her lips were small groans and half-assed insults. Things like the occasional “faster” while she pulled your hair, or “stupid slut” when you weren’t doing things quite right. The slander only made you work harder however, and honestly anything that came out of the blonde woman’s mouth was music to your ears. You stared up at her with rose-colored glasses, living in a delusional world where you truly believed Yelena cared about you.

It was a dreadfully fucked up dynamic — this relationship the two of you had, if it could even be called that. One of you lived in a terrible fantasy of what could be and the other was practically incapable of feeling human emotions. It was truly only a matter of time before the world started burning around the two of you.

A very short matter of time.

Yelena was spasming underneath of you now, warm juices and shaky convulsions racking through her body and into your mouth. You drove your tongue deep against her contracting walls, your eyes squeezed shut. A disgustingly sticky mixture of her fluids and your own saliva dripped down your chin as you finally pulled away, a bitter taste hanging on your tongue.

And Yelena was always quick to leave, she never stuck around any longer than she had to. She came, she came, and then she’d pull shitty excuses out of her ass as to why she needed to leave so soon. Those reasons more often than not consisted of one person — Zeke Yeager. Whether or not there was something romantic between the two, or if she was just highly devoted to him, you could never tell. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know, honestly, because the answer might just break your heart.

Why don’t you stay tonight, Lena? You looked over at her as she pulled her trousers up her long, gangly legs. You craved something deeper with her, something more than just occasional casual sex — but it was really too bad that she didnt reciprocate those feelings at all. Sorry, there's a meeting tonight. I have to go. She’d respond, her voice dull as she carelessly brushed you off and slipped on her boots.

Will Zeke be there? Your voice always got low when you talked about him, but you made intentional efforts to hide the jealousy in your tone. Of course he’ll be there, he is the leader, she’d state dully as if this was obvious, and maybe it was, but it still made your chest ache.

You spend a lot of time with him lately, even outside of meetings, you’d state your observations out loud for the first time. Confrontation wasn’t something you enjoyed, and you certainly weren’t any good at explaining your feelings either. But your heart was starting to nag you lately, and you needed to voice your opinions before it was too late.

We’re preparing for a war, her eyes grew incredibly narrow, try not to make such selfish accusations right now. The words were like daggers of guilt stabbing between your ribs. Yelena had a way with words — a shiny silver tongue that always made you believe what she said without a doubt. You started to believe that you were being selfish — after all the war was very real and Yelena was very involved, that's probably all it was.

You’re right, I’m sorry. I just wish you were around more. Your voice was much quieter now, shame and remorse churning in your stomach -- maybe you would have been better off not saying anything at all.

We’re busy. You have to understand where I’m coming from here. It’s hard for me to make time right now, she’d continue to spew nonsense into your impressionable ears. She didn’t like that you were starting to question her, not at all. She’d say whatever you needed to hear to keep you around at this point — she didn’t plan on losing her little fuck-toy anytime soon. If you needed a little affection to keep you complacent, then she’d just need to put on a little show for you.

Come here, I’m sorry, her tone grew softer, but not at all sincere. You helplessly sunk into her spindly arms, and she pulled you tight to her chest. Just hold on until after the war, okay? Once we make the world a better place, we can do whatever you want.

More false hope, false promises, and false reassurance. The war would be brutal, you’d probably die at some point in a terrible event of collateral damage. You’d die and then Yelena would never need to fulfil her empty promises -- it was that easy, and you’d never know the difference.

That sounds nice, you’d smile, your heart warming at the idea of living in a free world with Yelena by your side. You fell ignorantly for her words, missing every single warning sign and every single red flag. Maybe if you’d noticed the subtle darkness in her eyes, the strain in her tone, or the way she hugged you a little too roughly, you could have saved yourself from the ensuing heartbreak. Or maybe if you had realized that with you being a scout and her being a follower of Zeke, it was unlikely that the two of you would ever work out. But you stupidly refused to consider any of these things, and it was going to cost you your heart.

That fateful memory was a few months ago, and now the both of you were in Marley, anxiously waiting for Eren’s plan to unfold. You were partnered with your friend Connie, his lips twisting into a thin line as the two of you hid in the shadows on top of an industrial building. You were incredibly capable with your 3dm gear, and even more capable with the new gun technology, but you were practically useless with your head in its current state. You watched the streets with fervent eyes, dashing them up and down nearby alleyways and hoping for any sign of Yelena. The attack hadn’t even started yet, but not knowing her whereabouts made you incredibly uneasy. She was probably wherever Zeke was, of course, but you liked to think that wherever she was, she was worried about you too.

Yelena was hiding in plain sight, dressed in a traditional Marleyan Army uniform with fake facial hair wrapped around her chin. She did as she was ordered, trapping two of the titan shifters in a large hole and then retreating back to her position. She was focused solely on her task, and on Zeke and how she could ensure his safety, and honestly, the thought of you hadn’t crossed her mind once tonight.

When Eren’s attack came, it came suddenly and violently -- and it was like nothing you’ve ever seen before, or at least not since the colossal and armored titans attacked so many years ago. Before you could even take in the horrifying scene in front of you, Connie was grabbing your hand and ushering you to run, the two of you taking off with your 3dm gear. You couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering as your body swung through the air, frantically searching the streets for the tall, blonde woman who owned your heart. But maybe you should have paid less attention to finding her, and more attention to where you were going.

Connie’s shrill scream shook you to your core, and at first you didn’t even notice the array of guns pointed right at the two of you. A group of Marleyan soldiers were lined up atop a building, every single nozzle of their firearms preparing to shoot at you and Connie. Your friend shot his gear downwards, swooping underneath the scope of the guns and shouting at you to follow him. And you tried, you really did, but you were horribly distracted and accidentally shot your gear into the very edge of a building. The hook crumbled the corner of the building and was unable to secure itself, sending you hurling to the ground beneath you. Your breath was wiped clean from your chest as you smacked against the ground, dust and dirt filling your lungs. Connie was forced to swing up onto a higher building, narrowly avoiding the bullets and unable to come down after you. Your bones ached as you peeled yourself off the ground, looking up just to see pieces of rubble hurling towards you. What the FUCK, Eren? You silently cursed out that irresponsible titan boy, scrambling to avoid the giant chunks of building that were quickly getting closer.

You thought you’d made it, your heart beat gushing in your ears as you launched yourself towards another building, only to be knocked back down by a slab of broken concrete. Pained yelps squeezed out from your throat as your body fell helplessly back to the ground. This fall did a number on you, your ears ringing and your head pounding with a dull pain. The large piece of rubble had crashed into one of your legs, rendering your leg immobile and absolutely crushing your gear. Connie couldn’t help you, not when saving you guaranteed his own demise — you needed to do this on your own, unless-

“Yelena!” You called out to the towering woman who was stumbling towards you. Her arm was wrapped around an injured Zeke, and she was working hard to carry him to safety. Levi must have rocked his shit again, you’d have to thank him for that if you made it out of this alive.

Yelena stopped momentarily when she saw your mangled leg, but not even an ounce of concern crossed her determined face. She looked you up and down, and then glanced down at Zeke as if she was weighing her options.

“I’m sorry,” She shot you a horribly unsypathetic look, dragging her gaze away from you and hurrying off with the injured blonde boy.

It was so simple, so short, and there wasn't the smallest hint of remorse in her voice. Your brain couldn’t process how easy it was for her to leave you there, your mouth hanging open in a small “o”. You would give your life for Yelena, and she didn’t even blink when you were faced with certain death — and that’s when it all started to set in. The delusional facade that you’d imagined between the two of you was shattering, small pieces of glass memories crashing and crumbling around you. The cruel owner of your pitiful heart felt nothing for you, and it had taken this long for you to finally realize.

All of the days and nights the two of you spent entangled in each other's arms had meant nothing. All of the time you spent with your lips locked against hers and her large hands caressing your body had been devoid of anything more than lust for her. Terrible embarrassment washed up inside of you as you recalled all of the sinful things you did for this cold-hearted, unfeeling woman.

Your motivation to fight was gone, your eyes locked onto Yelena’s tall figure as she ran further away and out of view. She’d picked Zeke over you again, she always did, and she always would. She practically worshiped him, like he was some kind of fucked up, twisted god. You weren’t sure why you ever thought you could compete with that.

In the midst of your complete breakdown, a firm arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into the air. Connie had come back for you, cold air stinging your face as the two of you shot up to the safety of a tall, nearby building.

“Fuck, y/n, stop being so careless! And I hope you’ll finally give up on that lanky bitch after she walked right past you like that,” he let out an exasperated breath, slumping behind a large brick wall.

“Sorry… thank you,” you mumbled, “You really shouldn’t have risked your life like that”.

“No, but that’s what people are supposed to do when they care about each other. Is it finally sinking in, that she's been using you for the past year? I tried to tell you so many time-,” He continued to ramble on in frustration.

Every one of his words poured salt into your already burning wounds, tears beginning to leak from your eyes. Yelena didn’t care about you, she never did — she’d never even sacrificed time for you, never mind compromising her or Zeke’s safety for you. And you were stupidly ignorant to ever think that she saw you as more than a toy she used to pass the time.

[hepalien]

Shrunkyclunks (Modern Bucky/Cap Steve) Fic Rec

Hate Sex & Hair Protocol by @maddiewritesstucky - Mature, 1.8k

SHIELD Agent Bucky, UST, Enemies to Lovers (in Steve’s head), Humor

They’re all full of shit, Steve decides.

His team don’t have a clue what they’re talking about, running their mouths about the way he and Bucky look at each other; the tension that seems to be at a constant near-snapping point between them.

'It’s called annoyance' Steve wants to yell in each of their faces, loud and one by one. It’s the pain of having to exist every day in close proximity with someone who drives you out of your fucking mind.

---

In which Steve discovers that ire and desire may just exist side by side in his brain.

Stop interrupting my grinding series by @rohkeutta - Teen, 2.5k

Nurse Bucky, Wrong Number, Fluff, Humor

“I tried to call Sam,” Captain America says, bewildered. He’s sprinting like Usain Bolt and doesn’t sound even a little out of breath. Fucker. “Who’re you?”

“Someone who’s watching you live on TV,” Bucky tells him as the tiny patriotic figure on the screen takes the turns like he instructed. Bucky should probably be a lot more freaked out about this, but honestly? After a tour in the Middle East and six years as a nurse in New York, even this isn’t enough to ruffle him. One sees a lot of shit in the ER. “Also, you better hang up now, that thing is behind the next bend.”

“Uh, okay,” Captain America says. “Thanks?”

“Whatever,” Bucky says, disconnects the call and turns the TV off to get ready for his shift.

Save a Horse, Ride a Captain by @galwednesday - Teen, 2.7k

War Vet Bucky, Meet Cute, Fluff, Humor, Modern Howlies

Bucky tapped him on the shoulder, swaying back and forth a little as he waited for the man to turn around. “Hello,” he said, and then promptly forgot what else he was going to say, because this guy was fucking beautiful. “Wow. Good face.”

Two of the guy’s friends, a man wearing a suit that fit so well it had to be bespoke and a man with a cute little gap between his front teeth, started cracking up. The petite redhead sitting next to them cocked her head to the side and pulled her phone out of her handbag. Beautiful Face just looked kind of pained, so Bucky redirected. He was a gentleman. He could take a hint. No hitting on beautiful guys who were uncomfortable with that sort of thing, no matter how lickable their jawlines were.

“Hello,” he repeated, doing his best to mind his manners. “I’m very sorry to bother you. Can I have a piggy-back ride?”

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet by @musette22 - Teen, 3.8k

Chef Bucky, POV Outsider, Fluff, Humor

“I made soda bread.”

Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.”

The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

more under the cut

Cafe Au Écoute by @littlesystems - Teen, 3.8k

Coffee Shop AU

No matter where Steve goes, there's always the chance that he'll overhear a conversation about himself - or rather, Captain America. This coffee shop is no different. The fact that he keeps eavesdropping well past the point of plausible deniability is another matter entirely.

#TweetMeDaddy by StarSpangled - Teen, 4.1k

SHIELD Employee Bucky, Misunderstandings, Crack, Humor

Coulson, for his part, stares up at Bucky with such a betrayed look of frozen horror that Natasha actually goes the extra step and presses another button, capturing the moment and airdropping the photograph to her phone for posterity. When he speaks, his voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Why…?” He swallows and starts again, trying for some semblance of normality. “...Why would you tweet something like that?!”

“If you must know, sir,” and somehow he manages to make ‘sir’ come out with the same inflection most people reserve for ‘motherfucking son of a bitch’, “it’s because I have a difficult time doing my job when my job involves monitoring the man with the best fucking ass in the United States of America.” He slowly lowers himself back into his seat until he’s at eye level, making extreme eye contact with Coulson until Coulson turns away to make mortified eye contact in Natasha’s general direction through the one-way glass. Natasha would take another picture, if she weren’t too busy catching Steve’s red-faced sputtering. “Sometimes, I vent to my Twitter followers. Sometimes, it’s about hot men with washboard abs. Can I go now, or do you need a graphic description of how I pleasure myself at night?”

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by @spacebuck - Explicit, 8.2k

YouTuber Bucky

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

Came with my cool (I dropped it) by @liionne - Teen, 9.2k

Yoga Instructor Bucky

"When you said I need to loosen up, I didn't think you meant literally."

"I meant it every way. Mentally, emotionally, and physically." Natasha says, and thrusts a yoga mat at him.

there once was a diamond by bloobeary - Teen, 11.3k

Fluff, Thanksgiving

"You," Becca seethes, and hits him with a wooden spoon. "Could have told me," Hits him again. "You were dating Captain America." Final hit, Bucky laughs. He supposes he deserves it, giving her no more information than the fact he was bringing his boyfriend to Thanksgiving dinner at her house and then showing up with Steve.

Salt by littleblackfox @thelittleblackfox - Mature, 12k

Bakery AU

The cinnamon roll is gone in four bites. Four indecent, jaw-unhinging bites, and Steve sucks the last traces of lemon and icing from his fingers with a low, throaty sound of satisfaction. He glances up at Bucky, who is leaning against the counter and watching him with avid fascination.

“Um…” Steve says around his index finger. There’s still a little icing on the bed of his fingernail, and he stops trying to work it off with his tongue.

“You know those movies where the girl eats an eclair or something, and it’s really, like, sexually charged?” Bucky asks.

Steve pulls his finger out of his mouth. He’s never seen that kind of movie, but the thought of Bucky eating an eclair is certainly… well, it lingers. “Uh?”

“Yeah, well that was the exact opposite.” Steve scowls, and Bucky cackles gleefully. “You are something else, Steve.”

Leg Day by Brokenpitchpipe - Explicit, 12.1k

Gym Thot Bucky

“So talk to him,” Sam says.

“I can’t,” Bucky groans. “I can’t, Sam, I. He just.” He fluffs his hair up and stares at Sam, distraught. “I want him to bench press me.”

“Okay, so it’s serious,” Sam interprets. “Got it."

(Or: The one where Sam is Bucky's long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.)

Art Nouveau by voluptuous_panic - Explicit, 12.2k

Bartender Bucky, Tattooed & Pierced Bucky

Steve's on the worst date of his life. At least the bartender's cute.

much tattoo about nothing by @deisderium - Explicit, 14.5k

Tattoo Artist Bucky

Steve Rogers gets a lot of email requests, but never one like this: James Barnes wants to use his healing factor to practice tattoos.

Turns out tattoos give Steve boners.

No Wonder There's Panic in the Industry by sprinkle_of_cinnamon - Not Rated (I’d say Mature?), 20.5k

Stark Industries Intern Bucky, Team fic, Humor

In which Bucky Barnes and his BFF, Clint Barton, are NYU interns for Stark Media Group competing to be Pepper's favorite.

Or alternatively, the time Bucky assisted the P.A. team on the Steve Rogers piece and ended up (adopted) with a contact list full of Avengers.

Life of the Party by @aggressivewhenstartled - Explicit, 21.6k

Superhero Impersonator Bucky, Mistaken Identity

“You know, kids,” Steve heard from the backyard, “one of the most common threats a superhero has to face is inside an active volcano! We’re going to have to work on your evasion skills, so for the next five minutes, the floor is lava!” This was met by a sudden spike in both volume and pitch from the small children as they scrambled onto every raised surface they could find and immediately launched themselves right back off.

“I’ve never seen actual lava in my entire life,” Steve said, vaguely offended.

“You got a superhero impersonator for The Falcon’s niece’s birthday party,” Sam said, incredulous. “The Falcon, who is an actual superhero.”

Trust Enough by @geneticallydead - Explicit, 23.3k

Misunderstandings

“Saturday. Yeah, that’s good,” Steve says, and actually scuffs his shoe at the ground. Like a ridiculous shy superhero damsel. “Say eight? I live-“

“Yeah, big building with the A on it,” Bucky says, and can’t help a big stupid grin. Steve stares at him, looking a little dazed, and after their whole conversation it’s only now that Bucky’s brain catches up and realises Steve finds him quite attractive. So. Win for Bucky.

“Let me get your number,” Steve says finally, after they’ve stared stupidly at each other for about three hours, taking out his phone.

So they exchange numbers, and then Steve says he should go, and Bucky agrees, and they kind of stare at each other for a bit more, then Steve actually does go, but not before taking Bucky’s hand and squeezing it warmly in a way that makes Bucky want to shiver all over. Then Steve is gone, and Bucky is standing alone in the alley, grinning to himself.

Right up until the moment he remembers that Steve thinks Bucky is an escort he’s just hired.

Well fuck.

The Roommate by layersofart, Niitza - Teen, 28.6k

War Vet Bucky, Roommates AU, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Team fic

In which Steven G. Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America, gets a roommate. Who rapidly turns into his "roommate"—in the euphemistic sense of the word.

It takes SHIELD and the rest of the Avengers an absurd amount of time to notice.

Brooklyn Baby by sprinkle_of_cinnamon - Mature, 33.7k

Coffee Shop AU, Modern Howlies, Mistaken Identity, Team Fic

In which Bucky is just trying to live life and enjoy his unofficial official table at the obnoxiously hipster coffee shop but some guy named Steve stole his spot.

Or, the time that Bucky unintentionally befriended the Avengers and had no idea.

Never Talk to Strangers by mambo @whtaft - Teen, 40.4k

Grad Student Bucky, Slow Burn

Never Talk to Strangers: or; How a Forgotten Childhood Lesson Led Bucky Barnes to Appreciate Charlie Chaplin, Befriend an A.I., Slip on Soap Bubbles, Be Mistaken for a Succubus, and Try to Woo a Superhero.

Sinking Our Teeth In The Heart Of The Sun by fallendarlings @pressrestartwrites - Explicit, 102.8k

Single Dad Bucky, Kid Fic, Slow Burn, Domestic, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Steve has Autism

Bucky Barnes never intended to become a single father at 25. But life has always enjoyed kicking him while he's down and it's showing no signs of stopping. A chance meeting with a brick wall of a guy named Steve in the formula aisle of the grocery store leads to a friendship it seems like both of them need. If only Bucky could remember that's all they are- friends. If only Steve didn't slot into their lives so perfectly and look so good spoiling Bucky's daughter (and Bucky, despite his protests).

Oh, if only Steve didn't turn out to be Captain America.

Steve Rogers is wandering around a world that he doesn't fit into, fighting for a government that he doesn't trust, just because he doesn't know what to do with himself if he ever relaxes long enough to actually think about anything other than the next mission.

And then came Bucky Barnes and his newborn baby.

More recs

[akemiiiii]

Like waves crashing.

[before anything else, i know i only put my art here, but I do write from time to time hehe, so I'm sharing this one with you all, much love! I hope you enjoy it!]

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“What the fuck?”

The first thing that Iwaizumi registers in his sleep-addled mind is that the bed is too soft. It did not feel like the firm mattress he always sleeps on in his apartment.

The second thing he registers is the soft scent of bergamot and pine which reminds him of Oikawa.

Which was definitely weird because Oikawa isn’t anywhere remotely near him at the moment, in fact, he clearly remembers he was 6 thousand miles away.

His eyes open to see a white ceiling, a grey duvet cover, and the king-sized bed he was currently on.

”What the fuck?”

Iwaizumi was thoroughly confused. He doesn’t remember anything that would sufficiently explain where he was.

The last thing he does remember was his sleep-deprived thoughts of missing Tooru because they’d yet to see each other for a year now and a pixelated face on a screen does not count.

And now here he is on a soft mattress that does wonders for his body, a room he does not recognize, and a scent that reminds him so much of his best friend.

“Did I die from missing Tooru so much?” Iwa anxiously gets up from the bed and heads to what he assumes is the cabinet. Right now, the idea of lying half-naked on a stranger’s bed did not seem appealing.

The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth for reasons unknown to him. But as Iwaizumi scrambles to open the cabinet, his sight lands on two very conspicuous shirts.

Hanging isolated on the right end of the closet was a black shirt that housed a small Japanese flag right above where a heart would be when worn. Besides the black shirt is a blue jersey, a huge ‘13’ smack right in the middle with an Argentine flag on the corner.

For the 3rd time that day, Iwaizumi curses.

Was Tooru already 1st string on his team? Was he already playing for Argentina? Wait, no, that’d be impossible Tooru would have to be an Argentine citizen for that ti happen.

Thoughts beeline in his brain, too fast for him to process. While Iwa was trying to understand what he was seeing, voices past the door of the room catch his attention.

Iwa stands still, eyes wide, fearing he’d be caught. Any hopes of these people leaving burn to dust as the knob turns slightly.

Then his eyes meet the soft brown burned and buried into his heart.

“Tooru?” Iwaizumi doesn’t take notice of the fact that Oikawa’s taller, bulkier, and more tanned. He was too happy to finally see his best friend after a year of not having him near that he barrels past the unfamiliar room to crush said man into a fierce hug.

“...Iwa-chan?” Oikawa squeaks out

“Tooru! Gods, I missed your stupid face, how are you here? Why are you here?” at this Iwa moves back to glare at the man “You better not have skipped out on your practices dumbass, you know better than to…”

“What the fuck?” The fourth curse surprisingly does not come from Iwaizumi. Well, not from the one who just bear-hugged Oikawa.

Iwa’s eyes move from Oikawa’s wide-blown eyes, past his shoulder, to see his own face staring back at him. A more muscled, more robust, maybe slightly taller version of himself.

Iwa curses for the fifth time.

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

“Wait, wait, wait, you mean to say it is currently 2024?” Iwaizumi asks this supposedly adult Tooru.

“Yeah! We’re like, 30 now, Iwa-chan!” For the most part, Tooru looks extremely amused at what was happening that he couldn’t stop looking back and forth between the younger Iwa and the older.

“Damn, Iwa-chan, look at all the wrinkles you’ve accumulated, I told you all that scowling was gonna stay.” Oikawa chatters on excitedly

“Shut up ‘kawa” On the other hand, Iwa’s older counterpart now looks on calmly, as if this mind-blowing event was a normal part of his everyday life.

“Wait, you said we’re in Japan? And we’re...living together?? What about Argentina? Did you come back to Japan after all? But that wouldn’t explain the jersey…” There was so much Iwa wanted to ask about, but these were his topmost concerns.

“Hmmm, how much am I allowed to say? Will this affect the past? How did you even get here?” Oikawa directs the first 2 questions to the Iwaizumi closer to him (the adult one) and directs the last one to the Iwa sitting in front of them.

“I suppose you can say the condition we’re in now. But not the major ones.” The adult Iwaizumi offers

“But Iwa-chan! How am I supposed to know which ones are ‘major’ ones?!” Oikawa whines out, dramatically air quoting his statement.

The older Iwa heaves a sigh and faces his counterpart, “Yeah, we’re living together, we’re in Japan, as for Argentina, you’ll know in time.”

“...Huh.” Younger Iwa just huffs at that, but living together wasn’t really a big issue, in the back of his mind, Iwa thinks he knew all along that they would end up like that anyway.

Living with your best friend doesn’t really pose any much problem for him, plus he’d get to spend the days with Oikawa at his side and take care of his dumbass, so it’d be a win-win.

Younger Iwa still doesn’t realize why exactly he was very much pleased with the information that he and Oikawa living together was a great thing.

“Wait, I wanna know how old you are though Iwa-chan, you look almost the same as I remember when we were high school, but with major eye-bags.” Oikawa shifts closer, and younger Iwa stares at the freckles prominent on his face, the wide smile, and something in him clicks.

The one difference that he couldn’t pin, the one thing that made him believe that this Tooru really wasn’t his Tooru. This Tooru exuded happiness. Exuded contentedness.

He must’ve stared too long because Oikawa’s clearing of the throat makes snaps him out of whatever he was trying to comprehend.

“..Ah. well you aren’t exactly wrong, its been a year or so after we graduated as seniors. I’m at the end of the 2nd sem of college,” Iwa explains

“Holy fuck, that’d make you 19, ah youth! You’re so young let me pinch your cheeks!” Oikawa doesn’t wait for the go before both hands grab at younger Iwa’s chubby cheeks.

“Ha-ji-me~~ your baby fats are all still here! How wonderful!”

The sudden use of first name leaves Iwa blushing in Oikawa’s hands, panicked eyes seek help from the man beside Oikawa but adult him just laughed at his plight.

“Oi, ‘Kawa stop, he’ll combust.”

“You mean, you’ll combust?” Oikawa turns his head to face his Iwaizumi and wiggles his eyebrows. Younger Iwa doesn’t miss the gleam of affection that passes his eyes, and suddenly he is very aware of the lack of insults these two were trading.

If they were them, in the future, surely they’d have the same amount of banter he and Oikawa have, right? the roughhousing and all that, right?

But the only thing Iwa sees are casual touches here and there.

Like a switch, Iwa realizes a lot of things.

The apartment seemed to only have one master bedroom. In that room was a king-sized bed. With two pillows. The closet seems to house both of their clothes.

Oikawa was leaning into adult Iwa’s space more than the usual Oikawa would have been to younger Iwa.

There was a lot of gentle and almost, Iwa daresay, loving affectionate stares the two in front of him kept having in this hour alone.

And the most glaring, most shocking, most unbelievable thing Iwa has finally, finally noticed: The shining, demanding gleam of two matching rings.

“Are you married?” Iwa blurts out, the need to know suddenly engulfing him in ways he can’t fathom. How? Why? Since when?

The two in front of him exchange glances. And as an answer, both lace their fingers together. It is the older him that speaks softly, “Yeah.”

The word silences him. Once again, thoughts swim in his mind furiously crashing back and forth like waves.

How? Did he actually love Tooru all this time or did he come to fall in love with him? Was it when they were separated??

Why? Was this a need or a want or a what? What exactly could be the reason that they’d end up married???

Since when? When did they fall in love, when did they decide on marriage, when did they realize that the other was the one person they wanted to spend their entire lives with?

Iwa’s mind was a mess, but honestly, he knew every answer. He was probably in love with his best friend. No, not probably. Definitely. He started the moment they met and never stopped.

He loved Tooru. Loved his stupid collection of alien merch, loved the way his eyes lit up when they were on call, loved the way he took the spot next to Iwa as if that was where he was always supposed to be.

Iwaizumi loved and hated the way he was separated from Tooru, because of the space it left and because of the growth it pushed in them.

In the back of his mind, Iwaizumi hoped, wished, and knew that whatever their future may be, he’d always be beside Tooru, even if they were physically apart.

He’d known for years now that his future would have been with Tooru because the only future he pictured himself happy was with Tooru.

Fuck, he was in love with his best friend.

“Holy shit.” Iwa breathes out.

“Yep. Hard to swallow that you’re in love with this ass right?” Older him chuckles out, nudging Oikawa’s shoulder

“Hey! I’m a fine piece of ass. You’re lucky enough you got me!” Oikawa shoves back, the smile evident behind his pouting face.

“I really am.” The casual confidence in which his adult self replies to this is another blow to Iwa.

He fell in love with his best friend.

He gets to live with his best friend.

He gets to marry his best friend.

He gets to spend the rest of his life loving the person who has always made his soul feel alive.

“I love that I’m getting to see firsthand your reaction to realizing you’re in love with me.” Oikawa pinches the younger Iwa’s cheek with his free hand, and all pleasant thoughts of Tooru fly away, getting replaced with irritation at his smug smile.

“Well, knowing me, you have no other option but to fall in love with me Iwa-chan. I mean really, did you really think you’d get rid of me that easily?? My bi realization happened in junior high, you shit!”

Oikawa’s hold on his cheek strengthens, as he forcefully wiggles Iwa’s face right and left. Adult Iwa was apparently finding it amusing.

“Like what the hell! You were up in my room all shirtless in summer when it’s hot! And sweat!! And you had the fucking gall to play wrestle me without even knowing the internal turmoil I was having!”

Oikawa finally lets go of his abused cheeks, it was probably beet red from the amount of force he used to pinch, but also because of the words Oikawa was spewing.

“To be fair, ‘kawa, you liked the play wrestles because you said it gave you a reason to touch the developing muscles I had.” adult Iwa smooths over.

“It was still unfair because up until we were seniors I was literally dropping hints left and right and the entire fuckin’ team knew, and you were still there being the slowest idiot I have ever encountered in my life. Even your parents knew, how slow can you be Iwa-chan?”

Oikawa’s glare was directed at older Iwa, but it could have also been aimed at him from the amount of mortification he had. So that was why Oikawa loved holding hands when going home back then.

“Ah, the sweet taste of knowing the exact moment you realized you love me. Can’t believe it took for you to meet the future us to fucken know. Iwa-chan, you a rare breed.” Oikawa winks at him.

Older Iwa snorts, “Oh my god, never use that phrase again Tooru, what the fuck” He shoves him playfully, while Oikawa just wiggles his eyebrow back at him, prompting older Iwa’s fuller laugh.

And seeing this domestic scene in front of him somehow calms Iwaizumi enough to the point that everything in the world rearranges itself because he has found the answer that settles his very core.

“Ah. Times up.” Older Iwa says, looking straight at him. He dons a secretive smile, and for some reason, Iwa understands that he’s probably going to go back to the past now.

“Wait, last thing, are we happy? together?” Iwa frantically asks. Because no matter how he wants what this future paints, he wants what makes Oikawa happiest the most.

Adult Oikawa moves closer to him, leaving a lingering kiss on his forehead. “Ah, my Iwa-chan, I was never, will never be not happy when I’m with you. Now off you go! Don’t make things too hard for me, ‘kay?”

A last caress is what Iwa feels before he wakes up back in his shitty apartment with clustered notes and dirty laundry. It was currently afternoon, which means Tooru would be lounging in his own bed, probably reading.

Iwaizumi picks up his phone to ring him immediately. It’s answered in less than a minute, and the fluffy cocoon blanket of Tooru is what greets him first, before the scrunched-up nose of his best friend.

“You’re late Iwa-chan! Did you forget about lil’ ol’ me?” He pouts, and even though he was just with Tooru a second ago, he missed this Tooru still.

“Never. Hey Tooru.” The first name surprises Tooru, a blush rising, and before he would’ve just waved that off, but now that Iwa knows what he knows, he can easily see the pleased and happy gleam Tooru feels.

“Hey Hajime. So, how was your day?”

Iwa opens his mouth to tell him what he had just experienced, but adult Oikawa’s last words ring in his mind. It wouldn’t be fun at all if Hajime makes it known that he knows Tooru likes him, and him vice versa would it?

He closes his mouth and hides a grin. Nope. Not fun at all. Guess he’ll let things flow for now and keep Tooru at his feet. Someones gotta have to, right?

“Nothing much, I just woke up late, anyways tell me that gossip you had with your Abuela.”

“Oh yeah!! Iwa-chan you won’t believe what's happened, Juan’s partner got…”

Really, Iwaizumi muses that he should have realized long ago that he can’t imagine anybody else’s voice filling up his days in the future.

[Ok omg, tell me what you think, I know there're probably a lot of errors in grammar, hshshs, i'm still trying to get a hang of writing :D, I really hope you enjoyed reading this !!]

[hongnanglen-arina]

The Ulzzang Project - Part 3 | Jeon Wonwoo

 Read part 2  Read part 4

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Genre: a little fluff and angst, crack

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

Warnings: well, not too angsty I guess but I didn’t re-read.. oh and alcohol consuming

Words: 3.3k

A/N: Hello hello! Sorry for the rather long wait! I thought it could spice it up if someone else is thrown into the pot hehehe (: as always, I’d be happy to know your thoughts about it. Please remember that English isn’t my first language so excuse my grammar ♡

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You tapped the pencil against your chin. Working on a presentation wasn’t your thing and especially the beginning was the most stressful part, always. A brainstorming sketch was on a sheet of paper in front of you and between the person you were with. It was nice to work on it at a public place and you loved to have cafe sounds in the background. That’s why you suggested this cafe in the first place. You’ve already finished on a couple of presentations here and the vibe this cafe was giving you helped a lot. But you weren’t sure if it was the right decision today - for this presentation. You couldn’t hear the familiar sounds of people talking and relaxing with the coffee machine preparing the next order. All you could hear was whispering. Loud whispering. And you could feel the stares shooting holes in your body from every angle possible.

“We should write down some notes for the first part. Hasn’t be too much. Like in 20 minutes we compare our notes and decide what’s best?” You tried to ignore the glares you got, looking at the boy in front of you.

Yoon Jeonghan.

Actually you liked your professor but his idea to team you up with Jeonghan for this statistics project was stupid. All your prayers that he would change his mind or that Jeonghan would complain so much that you would get a different partner were useless. After he saw who you were, he even insisted doing it with you and you didn’t understand why.

So you just settled with the thought of doing it. Not that you had another option anyways.

But all those girls who were watching you two made you uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.

Your project partner leaned back. “I’m fine if you start. I’m sure your pretty head is very useful for this.”

Somehow it didn’t surprise you. His attitude was exactly like you had assumed after everything you head… and also after seeing his Instagram. Was this boy really of no use? Tall and handsome but an asshole? Although you weren’t surprised, you still had some hope that not all good looking people were bad. Best example, your best friend Wonwoo.

The thought of Wonwoo caused you to sigh. Yesterday at this time, you were sitting outside on a bench with your friends. You could even see the place from where you were stuck with Jeonghan if you looked outside the window. After you discovered the new post with Wonwoo’s text, your break was over and everyone left for their next subject. Up until now you weren’t sure what he meant with it. It had to be a joke. Just something to gain more followers and likes. Something fitting for your fake couple page. But why did it make your heart skip a beat when you first saw it? You didn’t know what to say to your best friend or how to address the topic so you thought you would let him take the first step, which hadn’t happened. It made you angry for no reason.

You sighed again. This time louder.

“Are you mad at me?”

Jeonghan’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “What?”

“You didn’t react when I was talking to you so I got worried.”

Quickly lowering your gaze, you flipped around an empty page, readjusting the pencil in your hand. “Oh no no, don’t worry. Everything’s okay. I already have some ideas for our project. Just give me a moment.”

The person in front of you smiled widely at your reply, which you missed out on because you were already scribbling down while your brain was working and distracting itself from your male best friend.

“Oh great! I can leave then, yes? Thank you y/n. We can discuss our project later. Maybe tomorrow, same time same place?” He got up from his chair and was about to turn around with a ‘bye’ when you stood up as well, calling his name.

“Yoon Jeonghan, let me remind you. This is a group project. A group project is supposed to be done as a group. In a group. You may decide who will focus on which part but what you just said sounded as if you expect me to do everything alone. Please tell me I’m wrong.”

He turned around to face you again, the smile still on his lips. “I knew your pretty head was useful. You got it absolutely right. I’m looking forward to the outcome. See you tomorrow then, y/n!”

He really was an asshole.

“Stop you little shit!”

Suddenly it was quiet around you but you didn’t care. You were angry.

“The fact that I was writing and actually trying to be productive wasn’t a hint for you to stand up and go away. I want to do this because I have to. No matter if you’re my partner or someone else. Knowing you better shows me that I would probably be happier with someone else that’s not as ignorant and dumb as you. I really hoped you would prove me wrong but it’s just the looks that you have. Everything else is bad. Anyways, if you leave now, I will talk to our prof and tell him about it. I won’t do it with you if you let me work alone. I will give you one more chance or I’m the one that’s off. So?”

Jeonghan looked at you with wide eyes. 

You were the first girl. The first that wasn’t following him. That wasn’t only agreeing to everything he said. The first girl that wasn’t head over heels for him.

You were different.

“So?” You repeated, slightly impatient. There were quite some places you would rather be right now than here with Yoon Jeonghan and is admires who were glaring at you for not treating him as the hottest and most wanted man on campus. Who came up with this nonsense anyways!?

“What.. do you… want me to do?” He finally asked you and the way he was standing in front of you seemed as if he was confused, scared even.

“The presentation. It has to be done. And for that, you and I will sit here and work on it.”

He slowly flops down on his chair again and for once you thought he looked cute but you quickly shook the thought off before sitting down again as well, taking your pencil again.

As you wanted to continue writing, you heard him clear his throat, causing you to look up from your paper. “What is it?”

“… can you give me a pen and paper?” 

It took you a second until you gave him the things he asked you for. Maybe he had nothing to write. Whatever the reason, you felt great that you made the ‘holy’ Jeonghan work on the project. Maybe he wasn’t an asshole after all.

—

You sat on the floor, back resting against you bed as you took a sip of the new smoothie your mother made. There were too many ingredients, you could only remember it had apple, chia, spinach and banana in it. 

Without noticing, your sleepy mind trailed from how you were working on your presentation with Jeonghan to the boy from your shared Instagram account. There was still no message on your phone from him. Did he just write it underneath the post without a meaning? Were you the only one who was trying to read between the lines to understand what he might wanted to say?

Absentmindedly you grabbed your phone to catch up with the things you missed while being with Jeonghan the whole day after your classes. After seeing again that there was no new message from Wonwoo in you chat app - only one from Chan, asking you if you had seen the new choreography video of a dance team you two liked - you changed the app and scrolled through your Instagram feed. Nothing interesting nor new. On Wonwoo’s personal page was no update. On your shared one was no update. Bored, you clicked the like button on a photo of Dokyeom and his selfmade pizza which looked amazing and a photo of Hoshi’s tiger plushie with the text ‘horanghae’. 

Sighing, the thought of your friend still bothered you. It unusual for him to be this quiet all day. Maybe you should take the first step and just start a conversation? Casually? There was still a high possibility that he wrote the sentence without a meaning so why not say hi?

[Y/n] Hey, what’s up?

Was that casual enough?

2 Minutes passed. No response.

5 Minutes passed. Still no response.

“Why is he like this?!” You whined, letting yourself fall to the side so you were lying on the floor when your mother came into your room after knocking twice. 

“Are you alright dear? Are you exhausted from uni? Or is my smoothie bad?? You can tell me honestly, I won’t get mad, I promise.”

You pouted and mouthed ‘uni’ and she nodded understandingly. “Rest then. You know, if you need anything, tell me. I can cook your favorite dish or prepare dessert. I can read you a book or cuddle you to sleep-“

“Mom!”

She laughed and waved apologetic. “Understand. My little girl isn’t so little anymore. Just call whenever you need me. I’ll be in the living room watching my drama.”

You thanked her and watched her leave your room.

Automatically you looked at your phone again, opening Instagram. While you were working on your presentation with Jeonghan, you two exchanged numbers and followed each other on the app. You had an actually nice conversation and got to know him a little better. He wasn’t so snobbish as you though he would be.

Your eyes were glued on Jeonghan’s update from 2 hours ago. It was a photo of you how you were concentrated on writing down your part from your project, two milkshakes in front of you. His had less while your own drink was almost full and untouched because you had a rush of ideas and decided to write them down before it disappeared. You didn’t know he took a photo. That’s when you saw the text he added to the photo.

Interesting. She might become a candidate (:

A candidate for what?? Cocking your head to the side, you wanted to know what he meant with it when your phone chimed, telling you about a new message. When you saw that it was from Wonwoo, your fingers tapped faster to read it.

[Wonwoo] Bored to death. You?

[Y/n] Same. Park in 30? Crave ice cream…

Maybe you replied too fast but you didn’t care. You were just happy he was talking to you even though you weren’t sure why you were worried he wouldn’t. There was no issue between the two of you or was it?

[Wonwoo] Deal. See ya

Although you were relieved he replied and even agreed to seeing you but something in you was still worried for some reason. But you couldn’t deny the little excitement in the back of your mind.

After finishing your smoothie and making your mother happy with it, you complimented her before leaving the apartment to meet up with Wonwoo. Even though it was dark outside, the fact that you were going to meet your childhood friend made your mother worry less. She knew that he was a good person and if something scary would occur, he would defend or help you first. 

With the familiar cheers and wishes that ‘your mother would be overly happy if you two would finally get together as a couple’, you left your home and made your way to the little park. You wondered if Wonwoo was already there. 

While you were walking, your thoughts traveled to everything that happened over the last few days. 

Last weekend, when you decided to start your shared Instagram and act as an ulzzang couple just to see how many likes and followers you could get within a month. The seemingly normal texts under his posts that made your heart skip a beat. The way he babied you more than once which he had never done before. The overall vide he gave was different. You could still recognize your bestie but there was something that had changed but you weren’t able to tell why that was or what it caused. 

Then to uni. Your presentation with the infamous Yoon Jeonghan who you disliked from the second you were introduced to him through your friends and their knowledge about him. He was too handsome that he just had to be arrogant and ignorant. It turned out that he is from the outside but strangely after you scolded him in front of everyone else in the cafe, he was very nice and cooperative all of a sudden. He even told you that he would work on the middle part and you could go through it tomorrow. You still didn’t fully believe him so you might prepare something in case it was all a lie. But you could do that tomorrow. Today your priority was Wonwoo.

When you arrived at the park, he wasn’t there. Maybe you were too happy and walked too fast?

Looking around and making sure that he really wasn’t around, you slowly made your way to the swing and sat down, slightly moving back and forth with your feet on the ground and hands around the chains on each side. You looked down when out of nowhere fear crept up your spine. 

Oh your friends: the ‘what if’s’.

What if he was disappointed in you for whatever reason? Maybe for not texting him sooner? What if he was mad at you for not using your shared account? At least not as often as he did? What if he wasn’t happy about Jeonghan teaming up with you for the presentation? But then again, it wasn’t your decision. He couldn’t blame you.

You shook your head. Those questions should go away. 

You knew why they have appeared.

Because you missed your best friend.

And combined with the fact that you felt his attitude was different over the last week just added to your pile of anxiety. 

A soft tap on your shoulder caused you to snap out of your thoughts. Wonwoo was standing beside you with melon ice cream in his hands, offering you one.

“Heard you wanted ice cream?”

Immediately, you smiled at him, a warmth rushing through your body as you finally saw your friend again and him paying attention to you intensified the relieve.

“Thank you.”

You took one and started eating it while Wonwoo sat down on the other swing, both of you enjoying your ice cream in silence. The noises of your surroundings were kind of far away from you, looking for words to start a conversation.

Once you finished, you looked at the boy beside you, just to notice that he was looking at you too.

“I missed you,” you said in unison and the moment your brains progressed it, you two looked away sheepishly.

It was stupid, you had to admit. It only had been a little over 1 day that you haven’t seen your friend but because of the overall situation, you were were like this.

Again, you were looking for words to form a sentence and to distract yourself from the red cheeks. “W-what were you doing when I sent the message?”

His head turned back to you when he started to talk, “I was playing an online game but it wasn’t my day today. They always killed me with ease. Wherever I was hiding, whatever I thought was a good tactic, they found me and ended my sad life. Your message helped. What about you?”

“Did nothing. Well, complimenting my mother on her new smoothie?”

Suddenly Wonwoo was chuckling. “Sometimes I envy you for not living alone as I do.”

“You’re not alone. I’m literally always at your place.”

Your reply made Wonwoo sigh and you tried to figure out why he was feeling down all of a sudden, waiting for him to answer your silent question but he asked you something else, changing the topic.

“How is your presentation going?”

It took you by surprise but you decided to give him an honest answer, just being happy to have a topic to talk about.

“At first I hated Jeonghan but he’s okay. Really. After I got angry at him, he actually worked on it with me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he even volunteered to prepare the middle part. You know, the most important part of the whole thing. He also listened to me and-“

“You got angry at him?”

“U-uh… yeah. That dude wanted to leave me alone and don’t help with it. Can you imagine? He really thought he could get away with it. But not with me, ha!”

He chuckled again, seemingly approving your previous outburst of anger with the other.

While you were watching Wonwoo from the side and admiring his crunched laughter, you remembered his Instagram post and started chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Wonwoo didn’t notice your nervousness as he was shaking his head at the thought of you making a scene in front of his fanclub. He wished he would have seen it happening. Something told him that it wouldn’t be the only occasion for you to lose your temper with him and that he may see it the next time if he sticked to you more often.

“Wanna skip tomorrow’s morning lectures with me?”

The question left your lips faster than you could think and surprised you as well as him when you met Wonwoo’s expression, but his was quickly followed by a smirk.

“Do I smell a mario kart session with greasy food?”

“Yep.”

Hearing his amused snort made you happy for some reason and when he got up and held his hand out for you to grab and follow him, you did as he wordlessly asked and went to his place, hand in hand. Like you often did.

It seemed as if your anxiety was for nothing. He was the same when you arrived at his place, got out of your shoes and offered you a can of beer. He was the same when he asked you what you wanted to eat. He was even the same when he took the last bite of your dish without asking beforehand. And he was the same when he started a fight when he lost against you at mario kart 4 matches in a row. You felt as if it had been a decade since you laughed as much.

You made a mental note not to think too much again when it comes to your best friend.

After a while you two changed to more comfortable clothes as you opened your third can of beer, Wonwoo was on his fourth. That was exactly what you needed. Although it wasn’t the best decision but numbing your previous doubts and fears and enjoying the company of your bestie was the best right now.

“I love spending time with you y/n.”

Thanks to the alcohol in your system, you weren’t too shy to react to his words and felt kind of adventurous. “Thanks for the kind words but to be honest I expected to hear that you want to take your sexy photos now that I’m drunk.”

“Ha ha ah… you’re not completely wrong though.” Wonwoo readjusted his glasses and took a sip of his beer when you said, “Okay. let’s do this.” Your friend nearly choked on the alcohol but asked again what you just said, just in case he heard wrong.

“I said, let’s take those photos for our Instagram.”

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Face Me

Gif credit: @haloforsam​

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3673

Summary: The Winchester brothers are recruited by a former girlfriend of Dean’s to help with a haunting problem. As the case intensifies, Sam and Dean uncover the ghost’s origins and the reader’s dark secret. 

Notes: Welcome to the Winchester October Take Over! As always, as this month progresses, let me know what you think and buckle up for plenty of Winchester angst. This was totally inspired by Becky Barnes from the Starkids musical Black Friday. This is very very intense, but I hope you guys like it.

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural​ . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Warnings: Extreme domestic abuse, violence, death (like I said, it’s intense so please please read only if you are comfortable)

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

-

It wasn’t a call you ever thought you’d have to make, but as police swarmed around you, you lifted the phone to your ear. You thought you had calmed down enough to speak, but as soon as you heard the voice on the other end, you felt the whole situation crash into you again, along with so many feelings you’d kept locked away in your heart. 

“D-Dean?” You sniffed, feeling your stomach drop as they brought the body out the front door, sealed up in a bag. “Oh god.”

“Who is this?” Dean’s voice was gruff and tired. You must have woken him up. 

“I’m sorry. You probably don’t remember.” You started to regret calling. After all this time, you couldn’t expect him to come racing to save you. Dean was quiet for a moment.

“Y/N?” Sam stirred awake and gave his brother an inquiring look. “Y/N, is that you?”

“Dean, I-” You tried to catch your breath. “I need your help.” 

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Something… something killed Danny.” Or someone. 

“Are you still in that same sleep town in Nebraska?” That’s all he needed to know. No details, no suspicious activity. You were in trouble. That was enough for him. 

“You know me. I never go anywhere.” You winced, thinking about the last time you saw Dean Winchester. There was a loud shuffle as Dean started to pack his things, motioning for Sam to do the same.

“We’ll be there by morning.” You uttered a tearful thanks and hung up. 

“What was that about?” Sam asked, climbing out of bed and grabbing his duffle bag. 

“You remember when we were in Nebraska for a few weeks trying to find that coven of witches?”

“The ones that were using high school kids in their ritual? Yeah.” Sam recalled a fiery English teacher that Dean had dated for most of their time there. 

“Y/N’s brother is dead.” Dean said somberly. 

“The one that bought us drinks after we saved some of the kids?” Dean nodded. “Damn.” He was a good guy. “She thinks it’s our kind of thing?”

“I don’t know. Y/N’s one tough broad, Sammy, and she-” The sound of your trembling voice echoed in his head. “She sounded scared.” By the look in his eyes, Sam knew how important this was to him. 

“Then what are we waiting for?” He zipped up his duffle bag and threw it over his shoulder. “Let’s get to Nebraska.” 

-

You spent most of the night answering police questions and carefully watching the windows. He was in there somewhere. Waiting for you. Once the ambulance and the police were gone, you didn’t dare go back inside. Instead, you curled up on the porch swing and broke down. This was your fault. Danny was gone and that cruel smile was burned into your brain. He was coming for you. 

You must have fallen asleep because the bright morning sun and the low rumbling of an engine pulled you out of your nightmare. You’d never been so happy to see that beautiful car. 

Sam got out of the passenger side and you slowly walked towards him. You had to restrain yourself from just crashing into him to be safely wrapped in his arms. 

“Your hair’s different.” You noted with a small smile. He pulled you into a hug. 

“I’m sorry about Danny.” He whispered, pulling back to give you a sympathetic smile. Behind him, his brother waited anxiously, straightening the sleeves of his jacket. He hadn’t changed at all. 

“Dean…” You gasped, memories flashing through your head faster than you could register them. The first touch. The feeling of his flannel wrapped around your shoulders. Your last kiss. 

“Hey.” He greeted. Neither of you moved. You just looked at each other, both wanting to say something but not having a single clue as to what. 

Suddenly, it hit you. What might have been. How different everything would be. Danny would still be alive. When your eyes started to fill with tears, Dean enveloped you in his arms without a second of hesitation. Feelings he had tried to forget came rushing back, but he tried his best to ignore them. That’s not what you need right now. So he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He wished more than anything that you had reunited under different circumstances. He knew how much your brother meant to you. He ran his hands down your arms. You felt like ice. “Jesus, Y/N, you’re freezing. What, did you sleep out here or something?” He quickly shed his jacket and draped it over you. 

“Why don’t we head inside?’ Sam suggested. “Talk about what happened.”

“No.” You responded a little too quickly, earning a strange look from both Winchesters. “Why don’t we talk down at the diner? Breakfast’s on me.” They exchanged a skeptical look, but agreed nonetheless.

People were already whispering when you walked in. Word traveled fast. As uncomfortable as the stares made you, anywhere was better than home. 

“Hey Josie, can I get a few cups of coffee?” You asked the only waitress who wasn’t too busy gossiping about you. She gave you her usual smile. 

“You got it, sweetie.” At least you still had one friend. The three of you picked a booth, Dean sitting on the other side and Sam sliding in beside you. He put a hand on your arm. 

“Can you tell us what happened?” You tried to ignore Dean’s worried gaze and took a deep breath. 

“I’ve been living with Danny for a little over a year now.” Just tell them. Just tell them. “After Isaiah left, I needed a place to stay.”

“Isaiah?” Dean stiffened. You couldn’t look at him. 

“My husband.” Both Winchesters froze. 

“Oh.” Was all Dean said. You set down your coffee mug a little too fast and the hot liquid splashed onto the counter. 

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” You tried to clean up the mess with your napkin, your voice sounding more flustered than you intended. After all this time of keeping the secret, why was it so hard to lie to them? “He’s gone now.” Sam was the first to speak. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice was so sincere, you felt yourself choke on your words, the emotion becoming too much. 

“What matters now is destroying what killed Danny.” 

“Do you have any idea what it was?” Sam asked. Dean seemed very interested in the inside of his mug. You wanted to tell him the truth, but the words caught in your throat. “Y/N?”

“I don’t know. One minute he was fine and the next his head was cracked open.” You closed your eyes, remembering that awful scene. You felt a hand rest on top of yours. Dean had reached across the table, his warm touch giving you enough courage to keep going. “The police can’t figure out how anyone else got in the garage, what the murder weapon was, or anything that could give me an answer. So I called you.” Sam and Dean exchanged a look. 

“We’ll do what we can.” Sam promised you and Dean nodded. 

“And we’ll fry this son of a bitch.” 

-

Without a good enough excuse not to go back, you took Sam and Dean to the house. The police had cleaned the scene so you were able to get in. Dean stopped by the garage and laughed softly to himself. 

“Still working on the bike.” He mused. You smiled slightly. 

“He finished restoring it last year.” That motorcycle was Danny’s prize possession. A 1984 Disc Glide Harley Davidson. It was one hell of a bike. He had been washing it when he died. 

“So… married.” Dean blew out a long breath. You looked away. 

“After you left, Isaiah was… the normal I thought I needed.” You almost laughed. How wrong you were. “And then after a couple months he was… different. I guess I was too.” You thought of every red flag that you had missed, every great big warning sign you chose to ignore. 

“Ah,” Dean nodded. “Normal.” You looked at him, shaking your head. 

“I was wrong.” He read the glint in your eye that you had tried to hide. Your ex scared you. 

“What went down between you?” His question wasn’t out of plain curiosity. He knew there was something you weren’t telling him. 

“He started vanishing into the beds of barmaids and the occasional tennis coach until he didn’t come back.” You shrugged, hoping that he would buy the lie. He didn’t, but he didn’t ask you anything else. 

“Hey guys, I think I found something!” Sam shouted from the living room. He was holding up a picture of you and Danny from a couple years ago. It looked fine. “Check this out.” Sam turned the farm around, revealing the words scratched into the back of the frame. Your heart stopped. Face me.

“Face me?” Dean read. “What the hell does that mean?” He and his brother both turned to you. 

“Does this mean anything to you, Y/N?” Sam asked. All you could hear was Isaiah’s voice. 

“Face me you stupid bitch!” You instinctively pulled Dean’s jacket tighter around you even though you knew they couldn’t see what you had hidden under your shirt. 

“Y/N?” Sam repeated. Both brothers were staring at you waiting for an answer. 

“You know Danny. He used to get in bar fights all the time. Maybe one of them died and wanted to get revenge?” You wouldn’t have believed it either . Dean ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

“Look, we can’t help you if there’s something you aren’t telling us.” He snapped. “What the hell is going on?”

“My brother is dead, Dean!” You shouted. And it was all your fault. The two fell totally silent and you tried not to cry again. “Sorry. I’m just… tired.”

“Maybe you should just take it easy for the rest of the day. We’ll go back into the history of the house and see if there were any violent deaths.” Sam suggested sweetly. 

“Don’t leave me here.” You pleaded, grabbing Dean’s hand. “Please don't leave me alone.” 

“Hey, it’s okay. I won’t.” Dean assured you. What the hell was going on. He briefly turned to his brother. “Sammy, why don’t you head to the library and I’ll take Y/N to the motel?” 

“I’ll call you if I find anything.” Sam gave you one last concerned look before heading out. Dean gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“Let’s get you out of here.”

-

The motel room was relatively nice compared to the other places they had stayed. You sat on Dean’s bed and took off his jacket. 

“Here. You probably want this back.” You held it out, but he shook his head. 

“You can keep it until we get this son of a bitch.” He pulled up a chair across from you and you couldn’t help but check him out. Those muscles under his shirt, his perfectly messy hair, his unreal green eyes. He really hadn’t changed at all. 

“Do you ever think about it?” You blurted suddenly. 

“Hmm?”

“About how we said goodbye?” Dean looked at the floor. 

“Sometimes.”

You had thought about it nearly every damn day for the past three years. After facing the witches, it was time for Dean and Sam to move on to the next hunt. Dean had fallen in love with you, which was not something he usually allowed himself to do. You knew that you loved him and it scared you. The man hunted monsters, for god's sake. So when Dean asked you to come with him… you said no. 

“Look, Y/N, I don’t hold anything against you.” Dean started, “I mean, we’d only been together a couple of weeks and you were still teaching and, you know, I had just killed a bunch of witches pretending to be lunch ladies. 

“Dean.” You crossed to him. “Not leaving with you… It’s the biggest regret of my life.” Dean stood, eyes intense. YOu weren’t sure who kissed who first, but just like that, the years melted away. You quickly threw his jacket over the chair and Dean lifted your legs up around his waist as he backed you towards the bed. His jacket joined his jacket. 

Dean’s hands slipped under your shirt, just grazing one of the lower scars on your back. You panicked and pushed away from him. 

“Wait.” You gasped, catching your breath. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t.” Too many questions that you didn’t know how to answer. “I’m sorry, Dean. I can’t-” Seeing how upset you were, Dean tried to relax, putting his hands on your shoulders. 

“It’s okay. You’re tired. Today has been pretty crazy. How about you rest?” He was being so sweet, which just made you feel worse for keeping things from him. 

“Will you lay down with me?” It seemed like such a juvenile question after literally tearing his shirt off. Dean just smiled. 

“Yeah, of course.” You both got under the blankets, keeping apart at first. You moved closer and he wrapped his arms around you, your back pressed against his chest. “Hey Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“Sam and I are gonna keep you safe, okay?” His breath was warm against the back of your neck. “You can trust us.”

Dean knew that you were hiding something. Something that absolutely terrified you. He felt the marks on your back before you pulled away. For now, he would let you sleep. Hell, he could use a few hours himself. But sooner or later, he would find out the truth. He just hoped that it didn’t destroy you first. 

-

You slept without nightmares. It was so unfamiliar after so many sleepless nights that even as the afternoon light streamed through the windows, you slept more peacefully than you had in years. It wasn’t until you felt a rush of cold and turned around to cuddle closer to Dean. Your eyes fluttered open and you screamed. The spirit stood over Dean menacingly with a stone raised over his head. Even though half of his face was bashed in, you could see Isaiah’s furious scowl. 

“Dean!” You cried. Dean woke up and looked over his shoulder as Isaiah brought his hand down. Dean rolled out of the way, both of you tumbling off of the bed. 

“You cheating whore!” The apparition shrieked. Dean pushed you behind him and you screwed your eyes shut. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, Y/N! Face me!” He reappeared, standing over both of you and raising the jagged rock over you. 

“Get down!” Sam burst through the motel door and fired two salt rounds into the ghost. Isaiah vanished. Sam hurried to his brother’s side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Dean stood, eyes burning into you, demanding answers. “What the hell just happened?”

“I’m sorry.” You let terrified tears stream down your cheeks. “I should have told you. I should have told you.” Sam helped you to your feet, trying to calm you down. 

“Y/N, who was that?” He asked gently. There was now way to hide anymore, but you just stood there. Dean’s anger disappeared, connecting the spirit’s words and your fear. He cradled your face in his hands. 

“Sweetheart, we can’t help you unless you tell us what happened.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. You tried to pull yourself together. 

“It was Isaiah.” You sat on the bed and pulled your knees up to your chest. 

“Your husband?” Sam asked. You gave them a weak nod. 

“He didn’t leave me. I tried to leave him. He hurt me. He kept hurting me.” Every cut and every bruise stung now as if they were fresh. Dean gripped the back of the chair. “I told him I wasn’t going to let him hurt me anymore. He got so mad…” You gulped and turned around. You slowly lifted up the back of your shirt. Your back was a jagged puzzle of scars, some small and some stretching across your skin. 

“Oh my God.” Sam gasped. You kept your back to them, unable to look them in the eye. 

“He pushed me out of a glass door.” You pulled your shirt back down and wrapped your arms around yourself. “Our yard opened out to the river where there were some trees. So I just ran.” 

Dean closed his eyes, the entire scene playing out in front of him. The blood soaking the back of your shirt. Your crying pleas for help. It haunted him. He somehow felt like it was his fault. Like he should have been there to protect you. 

“I ran and I ran, but everything stung and it was hard to see straight with the pain. He caught me and shoved me to the ground. I was screaming, but nobody came. He wrapped his hands around my throat.” You sank further into your nightmare. “I grabbed a rock and hit him over the head. I just kept hitting him and hitting him and hitting him.” Your body shook as you cried. Nobody said a word for a long while. You were grateful. 

“Y/N,” Sam sat down beside you. “You didn’t have a choice.” 

“I shouldn’t have fought him, Sam.” You exclaimed. “If I hadn’t fought thim, none of this would have happened. Danny would still be alive.” Dean pushed the chair aside and crouched down in front of you, making you face him. 

“None of this is your fault.” He said sternly. “Not what he did to you when he was alive and not what he’s doing now. Do you hear me? It’s not your fault.” He pulled you to him and let you cry into his chest, gently stroking your hair to sooth you. He looked at Sam intensely. “We’re burning this son of a bitch tonight.” 

-

In order to find the body, you had to go back to the river. As you lead Sam and Dean through the grove of trees, Sam asked more questions. 

“It’s been a little over a year since everything happened, right?” You nodded. “Why do you think he’s back now?” You shrugged. You had been trying to figure that out too. You suddenly remembered a conversation you had had with your brother. 

“It’s because I’m leaving.” Of course. If you were gone, Isaiah wouldn’t be able to exact his revenge. He may have been tied to you, but he was also still tied to his body. Dean joined the conversation. 

“Leaving?”

“Yeah. I need to get out of this place. Get away from everything that happened here.” You sighed. “I guess Isaiah had other plans.” 

“Where will you go now?” Dean glanced over at you with a flicker of hope in his eyes. Before you could respond, you reached the North Platte and the tree you buried the body under. 

“This is it.” You forced yourself to stay calm as the memories flooded your head. Dean gave you a reassuring nod. “No one ever came looking for him.” It was kind of sad. Everyone in town just assumed that he left you and he didn’t have any family to worry about him. “I couldn’t bury him very deep with my back cut up like that, but I couldn’t bring myself to just throw him in the river. Monster or not, he was till my husband.”

It was late evening now so you didn’t have to worry about anyone stumbling upon the scene. The boys started digging, that lump in your throat getting bigger and bigger with every inch. Once the body was fully uncovered, you made yourself look at him. Sam and Dean stood on either side of you. 

“Alright Isaiah,” Dean started, lighting a match. “You’re not gonna hurt her anymore.” 

Both Sam and Dean were flung backwards and you felt icy cold hands wrap around your neck. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Isaiah hissed in your ear. He flung you into the tree, hitting your back hard. 

“Over here you freak!” Dean fired a salt round, but missed. Isaiah knocked him to the ground, slamming a rock against his temple. Sam rushed to help his brother and Isaiah simply raised his hand, throwing the younger Winchseter into the river. 

“Stop!” You tried to scream, but it just came out as a wheezing gasp. 

“We’re going to be just fine, Y/N.” Isaiah sneered. “Just as soon as you face me and learn your lesson.” He hit Dean again, this time knocking him out. You reached into your pocket. 

“Face this you son of a bitch.” 

You threw your lighter onto the body and watched it go up in flames. Isaiah raised the stone one last time before burning away. You ran over to Dean, your back aching with every movement.

“Please please please.” You begged, holding his head in your hands, his blood oozing from his temple and onto your palm. 

“Y/N!” Sam called out, crawling out of the water. “Dean!” 

“Come on Dean.” You cried. “If you wake up, I’ll say yes this time.” You leaned down, pressing a desperate kiss to his lips. 

“That’s gotta be my favorite way to wake up.” He teased, his green eyes slowly opening. 

“Shut up.” You shook your head and laughed, pulling him into your arms. 

-

Sam packed the last bag into the trunk and gave you a small smile before getting in the passenger seat. Dean had his arms around you, his hands soothingly running up and down your back. 

“I guess this is goodbye.” He sighed dramatically. You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m going to be right behind you.”

“I don’t know if I can wait until we get to the motel.” He gave you a cheeky grin and pulled you into a passionate kiss. He went to the car and you revved Danny’s Harley to life. Dean pulled the impala out of the driveway, you trailing on the motorcycle. You followed that beautiful black car down the open road, ready to face anything.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto;

[egcdeath]

secret santa

pairing: ransom drysdale x f!reader

a/n: this is so self indulgent. SO SELF INDULGENT. more self indulgent than anyone will ever be able to comprehend. before u all read this, i want u to know it was originally supposed to be about training ransom at a job, but then i realized that i nothing about 1. working at a coffee shop and 2. training an employee. also, i am the worst at writing dialogue. so i didn’t write a lot of dialogue LMAO enjoy :)

also, half of this was written at 1 am. just a warning

warnings: coffee shop au, enemies (kinda) to lovers, a lil fluff, not really angst but bitter feelings, kinda slow burn and then all the sudden a fast burn i’m sorry 😭

word count: 2.6k

You woke up to the sound of your alarm rumbling your bedside table sometime around the asscrack of dawn, and rubbed your eyes with a groan. Sometimes, you really couldn’t stand your job, but bills didn’t really pay themselves, did they? You rolled out of bed, and began your dreaded morning routine before heading out to start your opening shift at your local café.

Somewhere between warming up the espresso machine and taking out last night’s trash (which you shouldn’t have had to do in the first place), an older, yet expensive looking car pulled up to the front of the parking lot. You were a bit confused, as you’d never seen this vehicle, and it was quite clear that you weren’t exactly open yet. You watched as a tall man hopped out of the car, wearing a large peacoat and very unnecessary sunglasses. He approached the door, gave it a knock, then waited for you to come open it for him. Reluctantly, you made your way over, and in order to keep yourself safe, began to speak through the glass.

“Can I help you?” You asked in an annoyed tone, then gestured towards the piece of paper that labeled your hours on the door. There was no reason for any customer to be here this early. You looked up at the mystery man and made a rather intense eye contact with him. If this was any indicator of your crowd today, work was going to be far from pleasant.

“Yeah, I was told that I’m starting today?” He had a wicked smirk on his face, like he knew he was getting under your skin already. You hated people like him, and couldn’t believe that he could possibly be your coworker. On the bright side, he probably wouldn’t last long in the first place.

“Well, are you sure you’re here on time? I can’t see any situation where Melissa would schedule to open for your very first shift.” You commented with a furrowed brow.

“Eh, I kinda just figured I’d come in whenever. The girl in my bed was an early riser, so I thought to myself ‘Why not just come in now?’” He said casually.

“Your name?” You inquired, trying to keep your annoyance to yourself, and put on a customer service smile.

“Hugh, or Ransom,” he responded. You turned around, allowed yourself a huff and eye roll, then walked through the kitchen, and into the break room to check if he truly was a new employee, or just some random creep. Sure enough, a bright pink post-it note in very neat handwriting confirmed this man’s existence. You made your way back to the door, unlocked it, and let him in.

“Since you’re here, you should… set down the chairs,” you told him, less than entertained by his presence. You could just tell he was bad news. This Ransom guy was like the textbook definition of a red flag. He talked your ear off while you tried to get through your opening routine, some casual remarks about his last hookup, complaints about how he only got this job because his mother was a regular and good friends with your manager, and how he was threatened to get cut out of his grandfather’s will if he didn’t get employed soon, and what better way to spite your family than to mess up their daily coffees.

Eventually, a few more of your coworkers, along with your manager, Melissa, made it to the café before the morning rush began. You were sitting down at your typical barstool spot, and sipping an iced Americano when Melissa broke the news to you that you would be training the new employee. Upon hearing the news, you audibly groaned, and rubbed your forehead. There was no way that you could handle this man.

-------

During his first week, Ransom not only managed to offer (and successfully give) six customers his phone number, break two mugs, mess up more orders than even Euclid could comprehend, and spill straws a multitude of times all over the floor, but he began to flirt with you relentlessly. You had no idea why you’d become his new target of choice, when it was clear that he could have literally anyone he wanted. Maybe he liked that you were playing hard to get.

If you were being honest, you had to accept that he was handsome. And rich. And the definition of a fuckboy. And since you were being frank with yourself, you had to acknowledge that you were attracted to that ‘toxic and will treat you like shit’ kind of guy. You had a roster of ex boyfriends to prove that for you.

---

It was a pretty slow Tuesday afternoon, which meant you were sitting on your phone until a customer placed an order. Eventually, the little bell above the door chimed, and an older man came through, ordering a dark and bitter drink, then standing by the counter to wait. You began to restock lids while Ransom took care of making the drink, and once it was ready, you passed it over to the man. The man in question took a rather large sip, then promptly spat it out.

“What the fuck is this!” He roared, barely giving you time to react before he proceeded to toss the drink at you, spilling most of the hot content on your apron.

You gasped, gawking down at your scorched and ruined clothing, then up at the customer, who’d turned around with a huff and left, leaving a stream of strong language on his way out. You bit back tears at the whole fiasco, and cringed as both the steamy drink, and your salty tears stung different parts of your body. You turned to look at the barista, who had passed you along the drink, and were met with no other than the white devil himself. It seemed that all the blood had drained from his already otherwise pale face.

“Oh my god, this is all my fault,” he began remorsefully. “Let me make it up to you somehow.”

“Whatever,” you huffed, running a hand through your hair, and shoving Ransom angrily while you more or less stomped into the staff bathroom.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and frowned before bringing up your bundled apron to your face and screaming into it. Stupid fucking customers. Stupid fucking job. Stupid fucking Ransom. It’s like he came to your job just to make it hell. You were tired of cleaning up all these messes for him, and honestly, you wish he’d just quit already. The longer you worked with him, the more tempted you were to pour sugar in his gas tank, then take a club and break all the windows in the Beemer.

------

For the next month, your brain was completely elsewhere at work. Your brain was constantly going back and forth with you between finding Ransom hot and horrendous. While the pair of you finished up closing one night, you heard your coworker begin to speak to you as you placed your hand on the keys in your pocket.

“I know you hate me, Y/N. I get it. What that guy did to you was awful, and yes it was my fault, but what else have I done to hurt you?” He asked, seemingly out of the blue. You weren’t even sure how to respond. Ignoring the man and demonizing him in your head had become almost a second nature. “I mean, I think we could’ve been good friends. Even though you seem to think I’m devil incarnate, I think you’re a pretty cool chick-“ he continued before being cut off by you.

“Why do you even care?” you burst out, “Ransom, you just don’t get it do you? You’re just.. a douchebag. I get it, you have your moments where you’re candid and open with people, but half of the time you’re talking, you’re objectifying someone. Or bragging about something you own. Don’t get me wrong, I could get past what you did to me on accident, but you seriously have to work on yourself,” the words just seemed to pour out without your control. “Goodnight, Ransom,” you said simply before leaving the café for the night.

——

Since that day, the tension between you and Ransom had evidently become more thick. Since he was finally finished training with you, you made sure to only speak to him if you absolutely needed to, and even then, you only communicated with him in brief and straightforward answers. Sure, it seemed like a small thing to be upset about, and sure, he’d apologized, but something told you that any excuse to stay away from Ransom was a good excuse.

Though he appeared to be an immoral and selfish man, he seemed genuinely sorry for all that he’d put you through. Occasionally, you’d be sitting in the break room and look up from your phone to see him watching you. When you’d make eye contact, he would look like he wanted to say something to you, but your petty ass would leave, or look back at your phone. He was bad news anyway.

Your boss quickly caught onto what was going on between the two of you, and usually, Melissa didn’t like to participate in petty drama, but your new sour mood was such a stark contrast from before, and it seemed to shift the whole mood of the café.

That afternoon, Melissa called for a team meeting a bit before closing, and suggested a family dinner along with a Secret Santa. She’d said something along the lines of ‘It’s been way too long since we’ve done a team bonding activity, and a gift exchange is perfectly fitting for the Holiday season.’ This did make you perk up, as Melissa had a great taste in restaurants, and you were always down for a good gift exchange.

Melissa then told everyone to write their names down, then put them in a decorative Santa hat. You and your coworkers obliged, then began to pass around the hat once again in order to draw a name. You really hoped to get Xavier. You had the perfect idea of something he’d love. As you drew a piece of paper from the hat, you imagined the matching pair of fluffy socks for a human and dog that you’d passed by during your last trip to Target. You began to unfold it, thinking of what color he might like the most, when you looked down and saw ‘Ransom’ drawn out in chicken scratch.

You tried your best to mask your annoyance at who you received, but on the inside, you were seething. You mentally cursed the universe out while you pulled on your coat, and grimaced to yourself once you got out to your car. How were you supposed to get this asshole a gift?

—-

The week leading up to the exchange went fairly well for you, although it was getting a bit exhausting to be so mad at Ransom all the time. You tried to be less harsh with him, considering you needed to learn more about him in order to get him a somewhat decent gift for your exchange.

He’d seem to have taken your conversation with him to heart, and began to talk less and less about other girls when he was working with you. He didn’t comment on how well your jeans fit you, and you noticed that he’d often overextend himself in order to help you with (pretty basic) daily aspects of the job. Ransom would ask you questions about yourself, and your family, and speak less about himself. If you were honest with yourself, he was becoming a better man. And the best part was, he seemed to be doing it just for you. The thought of which brought heat to your face.

—

On the night of the exchange, you threw on a hideous and scratchy Christmas sweater before picking up your neatly wrapped gift for Ransom. You truly hoped that he’d like it, even though it certainly wasn’t the most expensive item. You bid farewell to your cat, then went on your way to the restaurant. You had to admit, you were a bit late. So it should’ve been no surprise when you arrived, and found that the only seat left at the table was next to Ransom. You gave him a cordial smile before sitting down and ordering yourself a glass of Merlot.

Something about being so close to him was kind of riling you up. The strong timbre sent coming off of him was making your whole body feel slightly warmer than normal, and you tried to ignore this strange sensation while you talked and joked with your coworkers. At one point, Ransom leaned in nice and close to you, and began to speak to you.

“Jesus Christ, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as hideous as Karmen’s sweatshirt,” he whispered right into the shell of your ear. Maybe it was the wine talking, but that simple action sent a whole chill through your body, and made you flush even harder than you’d flushed before. You let out a little giggle and nodded in agreement, looking across the table at her very ugly sweater.

“To be fair, the whole point of this was to wear something really ugly,” you turned your head back to where it was before, only to find that Ransom had somehow moved even closer to you.

“I just don’t know where you find something like that,” he commented, gazing much too deep into your eyes. You swore you felt the room shift after he began looking at you like that. There was about a 20% chance that you’d be able to keep your panties on after this kind of exchange. Luckily for you, a waitress broke the tension for you, setting down a few plates for everyone, then bidding them farewell. Damn.

The food was amazing, and didn’t last very long, meaning that it was time to pass gifts around sooner than later. You watched as Amy received a gift card from Sophie, Emily opened a plethora of chocolates gifted to her by Melissa, and Xander whiffed a candle given to him by Kennedy, then, it was your turn. You glanced around the table before you felt the arm next to you reach down, then hand you an oversized gift bag.

“I hope you like it,” Ransom said with a shy smile. You casually felt your cheeks on your way to pull out the very large item. You found it was a very large, and soft, hand knit blanket. It looked like it could’ve cost a small fortune, and you immediately found yourself embarrassed.

“Oh wow. This is perfect! Thank you so much,” you grinned over at your coworker, who seemed to be blushing himself. “Well, I guess I should probably give you this then,” you chuckled awkwardly before passing him your wrapped package. He tore it open barbarically, then began to laugh. Of all the gifts in the world, you two had gotten each other somewhat similar items. Sure, it wasn’t hand knit with the love of some grandma who ran a small business on Etsy, but it was the thought that counts.

“I love it, Y/N,” he exclaimed, looking deep into your eyes once again. He ran his fingers through the soft fabric, then set a hand on your arm. In that moment, it felt like time stopped. It was just you two, sitting in a quiet room, enjoying the presence of each other. You don’t even know what had gotten into you, but before you knew it, you felt a nose pressed up against yours, and a billion butterflies erupt out of your stomach. You heard a few grimaces from your coworkers at the sappy, Hallmark-like moment but what could you say.

Maybe Ransom was not that bad after all.

[chibioomi]

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞 - 𝐩𝐭 𝟏

￫ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞 ! : prohero!bakugou x prohero!reader

summary: he’s used to grabbing the attention from everyone in the room, mainly due to his loud persona. everyone seems to know who is but her, and that bothers him. he makes it his mission to get her to notice him. 

tags: fluff, lil bit of romance, lots of crack

                   ───────────── .°୭̥ ❁ ˎˊ˗

“i’m sorry ... do i know you?” it always seemed to catch the explosion hero by surprise, though he’s sure he should be used to it by now. the female never seemed to remember who he was. and everyone remembered him after their first encounter. did she get hit in the head too many times ? who knew what went on in the skies, her patrol domain. maybe she was as brain dead as the birds. 

y/n l/n. the number five hero. the winged hero. her quirk ? angel. her flashy, white outfit, the halo that never disappeared, that blinding smile, and not to mention the main attraction; the large, white wings that adorned her back. every single feather was rimmed with gold, and bakugou always wondered if the gold was something she was born with, or did she add that for the extra flair. 

that was the same hero that constantly looked at the number two hero as if he was some extra on the street. and it irked him. he was the ground zero, number two hero ! [ number one in his books ] and if that wasn’t enough to make anyone remember him, it surely had to be the fact that almost everyone knew him as the kid that was chained to a podium during his first year as he was getting his reward for “winning” first place at the sports festival. but that ? didn’t ring a bell to her. they were even in the same hero course ! but she claimed she didn’t remember much from her years at u.a. 

she was always hanging with todoroki, midoriya, ida, and ochako. but she would hardly even look bakugou’s way. kirishima told him not to really worry about it, but it even bothered him then. mina did say that y/n was a forgetful person, constantly forgetting her things back in the dorms or even her surroundings, but that just didn’t sound right to bakugou. 

“excuse me, can you point me in the direction of class 3-a ? i seem to always forget where it is,” y/n would always ask someone passing by her in the halls. maybe her quirk had something that zapped her brain, like denki’s. maybe she really was just stupid. 

but why couldn’t she just remember who bakugou was ? it’s like she was purposefully forgetting him, and him only. 

she had to be messing with him at this point. they’ve crossed paths too many times for her to continuously forget who he was. there was no possible way. 

and all of that brought bakugou to this. to him going out of his way for someone beneath him to finally notice him. to remember his name, his face. because even if he didn’t want to admit it, she peaked an interest in him, and no one else had ever done that before. he didn’t like the tightening feeling in his chest he got every time he saw her figure flying through the sky. he didn’t like the ache in his heart when he saw different articles of people trying to guess who was that man you were seen with the other night. and he sure didn’t like the disappointment that flashed through his mind every time she gave him a confused look when he tried talking to her in public. 

if she didn’t know who he was already, she would know who he is now. 

                   ───────────── .°୭̥ ❁ ˎˊ˗

patrolling was one of the best parts of being a pro hero. of course, saving people had its ups, the smiles on people’s faces, being the main one, but it also meant that the world wasn’t the safe place you wished it was. but in the time you’re patrolling, you have free range of the air, you get the time to stretch your wings and move freely. you weren’t restricted like you were on the ground. you weren’t constantly trying to make sure you didn’t hit anyone or anything with your wings, trying to stop people from stepping on the ends. you didn’t have to worry about the prying hands of both children and adults trying to get their hands on them. [ it was cute at first, especially from the kids, but as time went on, it got old, and quick ] 

up in the air, you had no one to bother you, other than the occasional bird, or the times you cross paths with the other winged hero, hawks. you two would exchange quick pleasantries before moving on. and today was going to be an especially quiet day, hawks telling you that he had business to attend to on the other side of japan. 

or that’s what you thought. 

you didn’t expect to see someone else up here. not someone so loud, and definitely not someone that didn’t have a quirk that allowed them to actually fly.

“what the fu-”

“OUT OF THE WAY DUMBASS!” you were hardly able to maneuver out of the loud, blonde’s line of flight before your two bodies collide together, sending you both spiraling out of control. you were quickly able to regain control of your flight, unlike the latter. and at first, you wanted to let them continue to fall. what were they even doing up here ? but that wouldn’t look good on the headlines. 

you could see it now. “winged hero, angel, lets bystander fall to their doom”

pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you focused on the task at hand. tucking your wings close to your body, you dove after the falling blonde, and once you were able to secure your arms around them, your wings spread back out to slow the fall. 

once you both were safely on the ground, you let your arms fall to the side, your attention directing up towards the person you had begrudgingly saved. preparing your lecture, he cut you off instead. 

“do you remember me now?”

A/N: hi omg so i’m really excited to be writing for them, i honestly was just listening to music one day and got so many ideas i just couldn’t store them in my brain anymore. i was on a different account writing smau’s, but i lost time to do it 😒 but here we are ! i hope you guys like it, feedback, critism, and all of the above are accepted 🥺

[besanii]

Hey, there was a time in the DH universe (before the not-so-fake engagement) when WWX chatted off ears of his siblings/friends about how good/gorgeous/whatever kind interesting Lan Zhan is which made them go like "are you crushing on him or what?" (with immidiate reply along the lines "What? No! I'm not sure we're even friends!")? Because if yes, that would be quite hilarious in hindsight... And so good ground for restlessness teasing... (Don't know why, but I see Wen Qing as the listener here.)

Part 17 | previous parts linked on sidebar!

“A-Xian, stop moving,” Jiang Yanli chides as she brushes his hair. “I can’t fix your hair like this.”

“Shijie,” Wei Wuxian whines, pouting at her through their reflections in the mirror. “You haven’t answered my question yet!”

She hums non-committally. “What question is that?”

“How did you know?” he cries, slapping his hands on the table. She frowns when the movement makes his head shift in an unwanted direction and moves him back into place with a firm hand. “Even I didn’t know!”

“Didn’t know what?” she asks, again in that non-committal tone. He huffs at her and juts his lower lip out even further. “A-Xian...you...aren’t the most subtle when it comes to your affections. Did you know that?”

But he’s like that with everyone! He’s an affectionate person by nature! He likes to hug and tease and joke with the people he considers his friends.That doesn’t explain how she knew his feelings for Lan Wangji were different.

His mother clicks her tongue at him from where she’s sitting beside the dressing table, wagging a finger in his direction.

“Look at this stupid child,” she exclaims, exasperation written all over her features. “There must be a hole in his brain."

"I got it from A-Niang," he mumbles.

She narrows her eyes at him. "What did you say?"

"Nothing, nothing!" He waves his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. "But I really don't remember. It mustn't have been anything serious."

The look they exchange over his head is a mixture of fondness and helplessness, much like you would give a particularly clumsy and disastrous child. A spark of indignation flares inside—it’s not his fault he’s forgetful! A lot of things happen around him, how is he meant to remember everything that happens ever? And besides, if he hadn’t been aware of his feelings back then, then why would he pay more attention to his behaviour towards Lan Wangji above everyone else? Their judgment of him really isn’t fair.

Jiang Yanli must sense his annoyance, because she reins in her expression, sets down the comb and sighs.

“A-Xian…” She steps around the chair he’s sitting on to rest a hand on his. “Do you remember that time you came back from attending Er-dianxia‘s forty-thousandth birthday banquet?”

He doesn’t, but in his defence, he remembers he’d been drunk. Curse Xiao Xingchen and his special plum blossom wine! Why would they even serve it at Lan Wangji’s birthday when the man himself doesn’t drink? All that good wine would have gone to waste if he hadn’t been there to help them out—

Oh. Oh no. He thinks he knows where this is going.

“What did I do?” he asks suspiciously.

He’s lying on the steps outside the den when they come outside to see what the commotion is about, arms and legs akimbo, squinting up at the roof of the cave through the darkness. His face lights up when he sees them and he gives them a dopey little smile.

“A-Niang! Shijie!” he slurs. “I’m home!”

“A-Xian!” Jiang Yanli rushes forward to help him into a sitting position. “What are you doing out here?”

His mother, on the other hand, gets a whiff of the alcohol wafting from his body, and kicks him in the shin; he groans and almost flops over in an attempt to get his leg away from her attack. She makes a face.

“Aren’t you meant to be attending a banquet at the Nine Heavens?” she asks. 

At the mention of the banquet, his face falls.

“Lan-laotouzi kicked me out,” he grumbles. “I didn’t even get to hear Lan Zhan play!”

He scratches his head, embarrassed. 

“I think I remember something like that,” he confesses. “But that doesn’t prove anything!”

His mother scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“It wouldn’t, no,” she agrees, “except you wouldn’t stop talking about him for the rest of the night.”

“I did not!” He looks to Jiang Yanli for support. “I didn’t, Shijie!”

She pats his hand sympathetically. “You did, A-Xian.”

He buries his face in his hands with a groan.

“It was pretty embarrassing,” his mother supplies helpfully. “You were waxing poetic about his fingers.”

“They’re so long,” he wails, holding out his own hands with his fingers splayed out before him. “How are they so long, Shijie?”

There’s a little chuckle from somewhere above him and he moves his fingers away to look up at her face. He’s lying with his head on her lap and she’s stroking his hair like she’s done since they were little. He loves her so much. She’s the bestest person in the whole world and no one can compare to her—except maybe Lan Wangji. Who is way too perfect for his own good. How can someone be so perfect?

“They’re so pretty too,” he sighs mournfully, covering his face with his hands and wondering if Lan Wangji could do the same with just one of his. “I wonder what they feel like.”

Jiang Yanli chokes. “A-Xian—”

“I bet they’re really strong,” he continues, oblivious to her coughing fit. “And smooth—oh but he plays the qin and he fights good, so they probably have calluses. His nails are so well-kept! Must be the qin—you can’t play the qin without growing out your nails, Shijie, did you know? I bet that’s why Lan Zhan plays so well. Or maybe his fingers are so nice because he plays so well. Or—”

“A-Xian,” she tries again with a laugh. “You really like Er-dianxia, don’t you?”

“Yup!” he says happily. She smiles and flicks his forehead.

“Have you told him then?”

“Yup!” he chirps again. “We’re getting married! The tree said so!”

He muffles a shriek into his hands. What the hell? Had he really been that embarrassing about Lan Wangji? For so long?

“Yes,” his mother tells him. “You were the only one who couldn’t see it.”

Damned mothers and their mind-reading skills! When had she learned telepathy? At least he can comfort himself in the knowledge that Lan Wangji hadn’t heard any of it at the time. Otherwise he would have been even more unsufferable than he’s been in the last few months! How is he supposed to face Lan Wangji now, knowing how he’d embarrassed himself before?

Lan Wangji must never know.

“Stupid child,” his mother scolds half-heartedly, reaching over to slap him on the arm. “You’ve been in love with Er-dianxia this whole time. Did you not know?”

“No, I haven’t!” he protests, and then wilts under her and Jiang Yanli’s combined scepticism. “Not...the whole time. I just liked him a lot! But who doesn’t, really? Everyone likes Lan Zhan!”

Jiang Yanli hums and pats his hand again in a way that seems almost placating, rather than in agreement. His mother, however, is less forgiving.

“But not everyone gets themselves engaged to him as a joke, and then goes through with it,” she says. “Honestly, Ying-er—”

“Cangse-shenshen,” Jiang Yanli interrupts gently, sensing Wei Wuxian’s growing agitation. “I think we should leave A-Xian to get some rest. He has a big day tomorrow.”

She nods her head at the red silks draped all over the room, the double happiness characters in bright red paper stuck on the walls, and then to the elaborate red and gold robes laid out on the bed. His mother sighs.

“You’re right,” she agrees. “I’m sure he’ll figure it out sooner or later. I hope Er-dianxia has enough patience before then.”

And then he’s left by himself, in his soon-to-be wedding chamber, surrounded by wedding decorations, his wedding robes and Lan Wangji running metaphorical circles around his head.

“Fuck,” he says with feeling.

Notes:

Shenshen (婶婶) - aunt, specifically your father’s younger brother’s wife

Previous parts and ko-fi link on my sidebar!

Wow, it’s been so long since I’ve written this verse I’m a little rusty haha. Sorry if anything sounds really weird, I’m still working out the kinks.

[ponds-puddle]

Quirkless? ~{Shinso}~ (3/??)

*NOT MY ART*

part one / part two / part four

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 1175

-

You thought about Shinso that night as you went to sleep. You wondered about him and his life, about the kind of person he may be. Quiet prayers whispered in your mind, each one wishing that you were given the chance to find out. Neither one of you exchanged any sort of contact information. The second the two of you made it to your driveway, the boy bowed and wished you a good night before leaving. Of course you thought about calling out to him, but who were you kidding? Your life wasn’t a Hallmark movie. You just quietly said your farewell before departing into your house without another word. Despite how many you wish you did say. 

“The orchids sang the saddest song today,” your coworker sighed wistfully as she exited the greenhouse. You frowned at her words. 

“Yeah I noticed they seemed a little down today,” you observed, your heart weighing down in your chest. You took your job very seriously and seeing that your plants weren’t happy really made you upset. 

“I think you should go speak to them,” she suggested, putting up her supplies and getting ready to leave for the day. You were due to leave soon too, but you took her suggestion seriously. You nodded to show her that you agreed before going back to your work. Speak to them? What would you be able to speak to them about? Your quirk allows you to manipulate them, not communicate with them. But it didn’t go unnoticed by you how their petals would perk up in your presence. They always were happy to see you. You felt the exact same. 

“Girls,” you said as you placed your laptop down in front of the orchids, “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to talk to you guys if I’m honest.” 

Why did you pause for a response? Their plants.

“Anyways,” you coughed awkwardly, sitting criss-crossed on the ground, “Music always makes me feel better when I’m down. So we’re gonna have a little jam session, okay?” 

You smiled the brightest smile at the plants, and for once it didn’t feel weird. Somehow the aura around them was changing. It wasn’t like a response, not the kind you were hoping for anyways. It was more like an awareness. The feeling was strangely… warm. 

“Okay,” you clapped your hands before scrolling on your playlist, “First up…” 

You yawned dramatically as you trudged onto the train. To be honest you have no idea what time it is. You ended up falling asleep listening to music with the orchids and you woke up with all your devices dead. You knew that it was at least before 5am because of the light outside. But you weren’t sure to be exact. You wanted to ask someone, but you looked like a crazy person with how your hair looked right now. No one would answer someone looking the way you did. Hell, you wouldn’t answer someone who looked as you did right then. 

“Y/N?” a voice asked from in front of you. Curiously, you looked up to see who had called your name. The way your eyes nearly popped out of your sockets was almost comical. The thing is though, you hadn’t seen Shinso in a while. After that night, you had no way to get in contact with him. And you hadn’t had to take a late train since then. How unfortunate that your hair was able to house a home of birds the same night you ran into him again. Life sucks. Honestly. 

“Shinso!” you exclaimed, jumping up from your slouched position. He chuckled at your strangeness then just as he had that night. A stupid blush dotted your cheeks and you fought the urge to frown. Now was seriously not the time. “You’re out late,” he commented smoothly, sitting beside you. You wondered if this was embarrassing for him. But the way he just leans back facing slightly towards you with that stupid little grin made you think that he honestly didn’t care. You find yourself thinking how you liked that about him. 

“The orchids were sad,” you said without context, “So we listened to sad music to make them feel better.” 

“I wanna ask about the orchids, but I’m more concerned about how you thought sad music would make them less sad.”

“Works for me,” you shrug nonchalantly. 

Shinso chuckled, covering his smile with his hand once more. You didn’t like it any more the second time. You thought about commenting on it, but there was no way you could come at it without sounding weird. So you gave up on it.

“You’re a little weird, aren’t you?” he asked with a chuckle. It wasn’t an insult. It didn’t sound like one at least. No one could use such a soft, sweet tone when insulting someone. You liked how his voice sounded right then. Please use it again. 

“I think I’m just interesting.” 

“I think I would agree with you.” 

The both of you grinned at each other. Somehow conversations with him always seemed like fun little battles. There was no way you could be bored around him. It was almost like he wouldn’t allow it. 

“What’s your quirk?” you accidentally blurted out. The boy blinked in surprise, his body retracting slightly. Nothing about his reaction was good, “I am so sorry that was so rude of me. I didn’t think about what I was saying. I just said it. You don’t have to answer that.” 

You were panicking. Why in the world would you ask someone that? That was so uncalled for. You dropped your face into your hands, chuckling to yourself. “It’s a really bad habit of mine, honestly. My brain moves super fast sometimes, sometimes things just slip out before they fully process.” 

You peeked up at the boy, ready for a lecture or something. But instead you found him smiling softly down at you, not a hint of judgement in his features, “I believe you. I know someone like that.”

“You do?” 

“Yeah. He’s a headache though.” 

“Oh.” 

Shinso laughed at your reaction, dropping his palm down gently onto the top of your head. Your eyes widened in surprise. His hand ruffled through your hair slightly as he spoke, “He’s not a headache because of that. He’s a good headache anyways. But you’re not a headache. I quite enjoy your company.” 

“I enjoy yours too,” you muttered. He removed his hand and you looked up at him with a small smile. 

“What’s yours?” 

“Hm?” 

“Your quirk,” Shinso said simply, “What’s yours?” 

“I manipulate plants, you?”

Shinso shrugged, “I don’t have one.” 

You straightened, “Really?” 

“Yeah,” he said, but something about his demeanor was different. I guess it would make sense that he wouldn’t want to talk about being quirkless. So you ended the conversation there. Shinso quickly picked up a new topic, but your mind never left his answer. For some reason, you just didn’t believe him. But it wasn’t your place to. So you never brought it up again.

part four

[petertingle-yipyip]

Selfish - Peter Parker

//Absolutely not requested. This idea came to me SO randomly but I really liked it so. first two anons are what i sent her, and the last one is what someone else sent her regarding my concept.//

//Tags: @stuckonspidey // Warnings: Language, violence //

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader; Spiderman x Villain!Reader)

Word Count: 9,935

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N never cared for her father, Tony Stark. After growing up without him in her life, she grew to despise him and the Avengers. She finds solace in causing chaos, including (but not limited to) constantly ruining a certain webbed-hero’s night. The thing is Y/N and Peter are dating, and neither of them know each other’s secret.

You never liked the sound of Y/N Stark. It felt fabricated, like a person you were never meant to be. If you had been raised by the billionaire, your life would be exceptionally different. You wouldn’t be enrolled at Midtown with your friends. You wouldn’t have met Peter the way you had, wouldn’t have fallen in love with him. You didn’t feel bad about not liking the sound of your father’s last name paired with yours. And from what you could tell, Tony Stark didn’t like the sound of it either.

Your mom was the one who made the decision to raise you away from Tony. She explained it to you when you were still in elementary school, when Iron Man first started gaining traction with the public. You had thought she was kidding. There was no way your absentee father was Iron Man. It seemed too convenient, but she even showed you your birth certificate. Sure enough, his name was on it where the father’s name usually goes.

So, you grew up knowing you were Tony Stark’s daughter. It always made you wonder how many other estranged Stark children were there. But you also knew Tony Stark didn’t care about you or your mother. He sent birthday cards, a credit card with the note “Go nuts. -TS” was included when you turned fifteen. Your mom said he paid a year’s rent for you at the beginning of every year. She swore your father was a good person, but all you saw was a joke.

Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. But never known to the public as a father. He was everyone’s hero, everyone’s savior. Where would New York be without Iron Man? You always thought it’d be about the same. You grew up great without Tony Stark. New York would be fine.

You thought it was ironic that he could put himself on the line time after time to protect the world, a place full of people he’d never meet, from threats, but he couldn’t meet his own child. It made you feel unwanted, ignored, rejected, and forgotten. Spiteful even as you grew older and understood things for what they really were. You had even started to wonder if his secretary was sending the cards and he was just signing them. But that feeling, that gnawing bitterness that lived in your chest, it grew into actions. But being Stark’s kid had one upside. You were a genius.

You were able to develop multiple pieces of tech, ones that were just dangerous enough that you could make some trouble. You created a vocal manipulator, able to manipulate your voice across different frequencies and toy with people’s sense of hearing. You were able to create a neurotransmitter that you could embed in a knife’s handle so you could direct it once it left your hand. You were also able to use some of those deep Stark pockets to get professional level martial arts, knife-throwing, and singing classes.

You found a way to develop highly responsive shoe inserts, able to add 18 inches to your vertical jump and absorb most if not all of the sound of you walking. You were able to create a number of highly potent, easily absorbed solutions with a variety of functions. A paralyzing agent. A temporary bronchiole restrictor. Another that forces one to tell the truth. Five variations of sensory deprivation, one for each human sense. And your newest, a neurotoxin that activates pain receptors across the body. All of your concoctions were temporary, that much you made sure of. You didn’t want to kill anyone or cause any long term damage. More often than not, you just wanted to ruin their night.

Since your dad was a hero, you wondered if it was your path in life to be a hero as well. A local hero, like Spiderman. You had thought about it when you first started toying with chemicals, using your new solutions for good. Maybe even help people. But the thought of being in the same column as your father, being part of the superhero world, it made you sick to your stomach.

You were disgusted with the whole concept of heros. A group of people with martyr complexes who wanted glitz, glam, and glory in exchange for “risking their lives” to save the world. It was ridiculous. No sane person would stand against aliens, high tech monsters, and god knew what else because it was the “right thing to do”. You didn’t even believe Captain America really meant that.

So, you decided to be a troublemaker. Use your brain and your anger to wreak havoc. You never had any intent of keeping it up long term, more of a temporary deal to blow off steam when you were especially pent up. But that was before you met Spiderman.

“Little late to be out, isn’t it?” He said casually, leaning on the wall in front of you.

“Piss off, dude.” You smiled sweetly. Your mask hid your eyes, the reflective fabric showing only a gray screen. “Don’t you have an old lady to help across the street?”

“You know, you seem a little young to be out right now.” He countered. “Don’t kids have a curfew?”

“Coming from the boy who sounds like he hasn’t even hit puberty?” You laughed. Your hand subtly slid to the high collar of your suit, adjusting the sewn in meter to the deeper end of the vocal scale. “Mind your business.” Your voice came out deeper, more threatening and with an added bass that wasn’t auditorily picked up.

“Woah.” Spiderman said in amazement. “Your voice changed!”

“What?” You said after sliding the meter to normal, shock obvious in your voice. “You heard the difference?”

“Well, yeah.” He shrugged, his voice cracking. “I kind of have, like, super senses.”

“Huh.” You nodded slowly, formulating a new plan. You carefully crossed your arms over your chest and activated one of your neuro-linked blades. “Are all of your senses heightened?”

“Yeah.” He began explaining. “Even my brain works different.”

“Your brain was changed?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda like- I don’t know. It's hard to explain.”

“Hmm.. Tell me, how does this feel?”

Before Spiderman could say another word, you sent a knife, soaked in your new pain serum, into his side. You smiled wickedly as he fell against the wall, obviously in pain all over but not knowing why. You called your blade back as you walked away, proud of the outcome.

You texted your boyfriend as you walked home. You figured he’d be asleep or working on his stupid Stark Industries internship so you didn’t expect an answer right away.

Peter’s phone went off as he was left leaning against the bricks for support. He felt like he had been slammed against a building, worse than when he left the airport in Germany. Whatever was on that blade had his entire body in pain, as if every place where he could feel pain, he did.

It didn’t wear off for what felt like hours. Peter couldn’t even focus to swing home. He had to walk the 12 blocks and clumsily climb the fire escape to get to his bedroom. Once there, he was able to slide out of the suit and lay curled in a ball on his own bed. He finally was able to check his phone, and a message from his girlfriend was there to make him smile.

pretty girl🤩💛: hey petey. heading to bed. that chem work had me physically in pain lmaoo. meet in the morning to go over it? 

pretty girl🤩💛: i love youuuu. good night bby xx 🥰🤍💓

He managed to send his replies before giving in to the now dulling pain and falling asleep.

As you were tucking your own suit and weapons away, you received a text from Peter.

lover boy🥵❤️: okay same :( come over when youre ready and we’ll walk to school.

lover boy🥵❤️: i love you more

lover boy🥵❤️: 😘😘🖤🖤

The next morning he stood in front of his mirror, examining his side. There was no scar from the blade, only a deep purple bruise from the healing. Peter couldn’t stop thinking about the girl from last night. He was amazed that she could manipulate her voice the way that she did and he didn't even remember seeing her hand move to throw the knife. The biggest thing that stuck out to him was how familiar she seemed. He could almost swear that he knew her, that he knew her voice. He felt it in his bones, in his sixth sense.

You got ready quickly for school, greeting your mom on the way out of the apartment.

“There’s mail for you.” Your mom nodded to the two envelopes on your kitchen counter. When you stopped to examine them, she slid a plate of food towards you. “Since I know you didn’t eat much last night.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You smiled, picking up a pancake in one hand and an envelope in the other. “It’s a Stark Industries letter. Throw this one out.” You tossed it to the side.

“Sweetheart, maybe Tony is trying to be in your life.” She said softly. “You should give him a chance. I think you’d like him.”

“I don’t think I would.” You shook your head with a mouth full of pancake. “He can’t go around trying to save the world and then try to do things for us in the shadows. I’m not gonna be here as a piece to his redemption.”

“Y/N-”

“I’m sorry.” You said honestly, knowing you shouldn’t have cut her off. “If you still have love for him, that’s great. Hold on to that. But I just can’t feel love for someone who hasn’t interacted with me through more than a birthday card.”

“Just open the letter, please.” She said sweetly, pushing the Stark Industries letter towards you. “Maybe it’s not about Tony.”

You sighed gently, putting down your breakfast to open the letter. You dropped the torn envelope on the table and unfolded the paper. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N, we hope this letter finds you well.” You began reading out loud. You offered your mom a look that said you didn’t want to continue reading, that you didn’t feel like it would mean anything. She nodded eagerly, telling you to continue. “Everyone at Stark Industries is highly impressed with the grades that you received from Midtown School of Science and Technology. Mr. Tony Stark would like to personally offer you a summer opp-” You laughed and threw the letter in the trash, heading to your room for your backpack.

“Y/N Y/L/N, you get back here.” Your mother said firmly.

“Mom, that letter is a joke.” You replied, throwing your backpack over your shoulder. “Tony wants to ‘personally offer me a summer opportunity’? That’s bullshit.”

“Don’t cuss at me.”

“Sorry!”

“Tony and I just thought-”

“You knew about this!?” You said loudly. “Why would you do that? You know how I feel about him and Stark Industries and the Avengers. It’s bad enough that Peter has that stupid Stark Industries internship. Why would I want one?”

“Will you at least talk to him?” She tried. You could see the sadness in her eyes, the pain from the broken family. She still loved Tony, that much was clear. And you knew it was valid for her to still love him. You just couldn’t forgive a man who didn’t want to be forgiven. But it was for your mother, the woman who raised you. The woman who left the man she loved so you could grow up normal. You knew it wasn’t fair to put her in the middle of your one-sided feud with your father, so you gave in.

“Yeah.” You sighed in defeat. “I guess I can have one conversation with the man. But I won’t go to him… If he wants to talk, he can come to us. And I won’t talk to him through a phone call.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m only doing this for you.” You added, holding your arms out for a hug. “I’m heading out a little early. Peter’s gonna go over the chem work from last night with me.”

“You finished it, right?” She asked as you headed towards the door.

“Yes, ma’am.” You nodded, offering a salute as your goodbye. “Love ya.”

“Are you coming home or going to Peter’s?” She called as the door was shutting behind you.

“I’ll call you and let you know.” You answered quickly before heading to Peter’s apartment.

You reached his apartment with about fifteen minutes left before you two would have to start heading to school. You knocked twice before May ushered you in. She gestured to Peter’s room, saying he was still getting dressed. You smiled, hugged her quickly, and headed into his room.

“Petey?” You knocked quickly before entering. “You decent?” You covered your eyes until the door was shut behind you.

“Y/N! Hi!” He said quickly. When you put your hand down, you saw him shirtless. You had only caught a glimpse of the deep purple bruise on his side but that was enough to draw your attention. He noticed your eyes on his tender injury but quickly tried to brush it off. “I went to help May with dinner last night and I fell into the edge of the counter.”

“You fell? In the kitchen?” You asked carefully, watching his face for his reaction.

“Yeah!” His voice cracked. “Yeah, I slipped in my socks.” He laughed nervously.

“Hmm.” You nodded slowly, not believing his story but not thinking of any other way he’d get a bruise that deep. Unless he took up a contact sport without telling you. “Want me to kiss it better?” You teased.

“Well, if you’re offering.” He smirked.

You skipped over to him and went up on your toes to kiss him quickly. When you pulled away, he pouted. “That’s it?” He whined.

“Aw. Does it still hurt, baby?” You joked.

“Mhmm.” He nodded, hitting you with his big puppy dog eyes and pursed bottom lip.

You chuckled lightly as he kissed you again, one of his hands finding your hair to hold you in place for a few moments longer.

“Anyways…” You smiled when you pulled away. “Can I see the chem work from last night?”

“It’s on the desk.” He nodded towards his cluttered workspace before rummaging through his closet for a shirt.

Everything else that day was normal. School went quick and you went to Peter’s afterwards. You two got food from Delmar’s on the way to his place. You struggled through your calculus work as Peter breezed through his. He talked you through some of the problems and you helped him with his English writing assignment. You two laughed and joked and teased each other until it was time for you to go home.

That night, you suited up and wandered the streets. You had no real intentions as you walked the familiar streets you grew up on. You simply wanted to be alone with your thoughts for the night. Sure, it was easy to lock yourself in your room and muddle in your messy thoughts, but you weren’t truly alone. Your mom would be home, checking on you or coming in to show you something funny she found on Facebook. So once she was asleep, you took off.

You wanted to do something big that night, something that could distract your mind until the next morning. You had ended up in front of Peter’s apartment building when you looked around to make up a plan. With no ideas, you climbed the fire escape until you reached the top of the building. You kicked your feet over the edge, flicking a knife into the distance and calling it back.

“This is an oddly specific spot for you to be.” Spiderman’s voice came from behind you. You dropped your hand, letting the knife fly past you towards the spandex-clad figure behind you. You stopped it about an inch in front of his face. You stood slowly, taking a deep breath to gather your composure before turning to face him.

“Are you stalking me?” You teased, walking slow circles around the bug-themed hero. “I’m a little creeped out, not gonna lie.”

“I- I wasn’t- I just-” Spiderman stammered.

“Doesn’t matter.” You shrugged, bringing your knife back to your hand. You tucked it away and looked back to Spiderman. “I’ve had a rough day and I’m gonna take it out on you.”

“What? Why-” He began, but before he could finish his sentence, your fist had connected with his jaw.

“Why?” You laughed, aiming another punch that he ducked. “Because all you heroes are the same. You think-” Another well-aimed punch. “-you can swoop in-” A swift kick to the ribs. “-uninvited-” He swung a fist back but you ducked under, twisting his arm over your shoulder and flipping him onto his back. “-and expect everyone to thank you.”

He jumped up quickly before speaking again. “What did I do to you?” He exclaimed, yelping as you aimed a kick for his head that he barely ducked.

Peter didn’t understand why he was taking so long to react. Usually his mind could process and guess where his opponent would strike before they made a move. But when he was fighting this new girl, he had no idea how to fight back. All he could do was defend. “I don’t even know you.”

“No, but I know you.” You laughed, pushing your gloved fingers through your hair. The sentence sent a wave of panic through Peter’s body, bracing for you to expose him but it never came.You hadn’t planned on any fighting, so you didn’t make a point to put it up before you left the house. You now regretted that choice, a thin layer of sweat making your baby hairs stick to your face. “You’re all the same. You think you’re doing your part to make the world better but all you do is abandon your family.”

“Abandon…” Spiderman repeated, his mind racing to put it all together. “Did someone hurt you?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You shrugged. “I’ll come face to face with him soon enough. For now, you need to worry about who’s hurting you.” You quickly flicked a knife at him, one dipped in a sensory deprivator. You were pretty sure it was the sight, but you couldn’t quite remember.

“What the-” He exclaimed, reaching his hands out in front of him. “How did- What did you do?”

“Sensory deprivation.” You said smoothly, walking to pull the knife out. “It was hard to perfect these ones without testing them on myself, if I’m being honest… It’d be too obvious to the people around me what I was up to.”

“I can’t- I can’t see! I can’t see.” He repeated, panic rising in his voice. You almost felt bad for him, like you had taken it too far. Something about the octave of his voice, the speech pattern, it felt familiar and that made the regret that much worse. Not only that, but it made you realize something. He was young, maybe as young as you were. “H- How- How long- How long is this gonna last?”

“About an hour.” You said slowly. You sighed gently, adjusting the pitch of your voice a bit higher. You knelt beside him, carefully putting your hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna be alright.” You said with a slight tune to your voice.

You had picked up the singing lessons as a hobby, but you had quickly learned how easy a man would fall for a song. Using your tech and skills, you were like a modern day siren, manipulating men with a simple tune. Only when you used it on Spiderman, you didn’t use it to hurt him.

Peter was in a state of pure panic. He had never been without his sight before, and being on top of his apartment building, with an expert knife thrower that had a vendetta against heroes only made his nerves worse. He had no idea what her plans for him were. He wasn’t even completely sure of what she was capable of. Everytime he encountered her, she had something new to throw at him. As far as he could tell, she wanted him dead. She could throw him off the roof right now and he’d be as good as dead.

He was already on his knees, having collapsed from the knife landing in his thigh. He felt her hand on his shoulder and he flinched, raising his hands in a quick defense. But instead, a soft tune found his ears, a gentle promise that he’d be okay. He didn’t know why it made him feel a bit calmer, but it seemed to slow his mind. It reminded him that it was only temporary.

So, he gave in to the loss of sight. He gave in to the new nothing and allowed his sixth sense to take over. He wasn’t sure if she wanted to fight anymore, but he was ready for it.

“You’re young, aren’t you?” You asked when you saw some of the tension leave his body. “Everyone says you could be any age, but I don’t think you’re that much older than I am.”

“Now you care?” Spiderman scoffed.

“Wow, sorry.” You rolled your eyes.

“You literally just blinded me and I’m supposed to be nice to you?”

“Just forget I asked, damn.” You pushed yourself up and turned to face him. “It’d be so easy to end all of this right now. You’re blind, defenseless really. You’d never see my attacks coming… And maybe it’d make me feel better to take one hero out of this world.”

“Take your best shot.” Spiderman challenged.

You lifted an eyebrow, wondering if it had worn off already. But there was a slight falter in his movements, confirming that he was still blinded. So, you went for it. You threw punches and kicks, some connecting while some were dodged. He had landed a few good shots on you, one causing you to bite your own cheek. You spit the blood out, nodding in respect to him, before attacking again.

You used one blade, gripped tightly in reverse so your swings had a bit of an edge to them. You opted against any puncturing or any coated blades, deciding to hurt him by brute force this time around. He was able to block a decent amount of swipes, hitting your forearm with his. Spiderman was a tough opponent, eventually pinning you near the edge of the building.

“Go on then.” You breathed heavily. Spiderman had the hand with the blade pinned under one knee while he had his foot against your chest. He was careful not to put too much on his weight against you, but he made sure you couldn’t escape. “Throw me over and be done with it.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He exclaimed breathlessly in shock. “I’m not gonna throw you off a building!”

Despite the slices, throbbing bruises, and fuzzy vision, Peter still didn’t want to hurt whoever she was. She obviously wasn’t grown, had no real intent on hurting people. She was just… troubled. 

“That’s where you and I-” You managed to get your knees between your bodies. “-are not the same.” You shoved roughly, flipping him over and off the building.

His scream echoed through the alley, until a harsh thud against the fire escape silenced it. You waited, catching your breath and steadying your racing heart and mind. You soon realized that you just threw Spiderman off the roof of an apartment complex… You rolled over quickly, sliding off the building and down a few of the fire escapes until you saw where he had landed, on his back but moving.

“I’m okay.” He groaned, trying to push himself up but failing. “I’m just gonna lay here for a while. Do you- Ah. Do you have a name?”

“Yeah, uh.” She said carefully as she got closer. “They call me Heretic.”

Peter laid on the cold metal in pain. Pain all over. His vision had returned thanks to his advanced healing, but was made blurry by the hit to his head. His spine ached, his lungs trying to refill after having everything knocked out of them. He watched as the girl’s figure slid down the side of the building via the fire escapes until she had past him. She was careful not to step on him, and he was grateful for that. Glancing over, he realized that he was outside his apartment so he rolled inside and laid on the floor.

“Heretic.” He repeated her name. “Cool.”

You made your way home quickly, practically running from your latest mistake. You had almost killed Spiderman. Throwing him off the roof was one thing. You knew he had the reflexes to save himself, but throwing him off while he was blinded was too dangerous. You had taken things too far, and that kid almost paid for it.

“Heretic, what the hell was I thinking?” You mumbled as you walked. “Fucking Heretic. I mean, it’s not terrible but giving yourself a name commits you to this character.” You nagged yourself. “Now, you have to keep this up. At least till Spiderman gets bored and leaves you alone.”

The next day, you woke for school and found yourself greeted with a black eye. You sighed, knowing you’d need to explain it to your mom and Peter. You covered it up as best you could but the deep purple leaked through your best cover up.

“What happened to your eye?” Peter asked when he saw you that morning.

He had noticed more than that. He just didn’t want to say anything about it, not yet at least. He noticed you looked tired, progressively getting worse as the week played out. He had started to wonder if you had been sleeping. Maybe you had too much on your plate and it was catching up to you. He was hoping it was nothing too bad, maybe a few nights of sleep and a date night could fix.

“I had softball practice last night” You began explaining the lie you thought of on your way to school. The team wasn’t a lie, Peter had been to plenty of your games. Only the practice last night would be the lie. “Well, I was pitching last night and Missa hit a liner right back at me. I barely got my glove up in time so it didn’t break my nose.”

“Nice black eye.” Flash mocked as he passed.

“You want one to match?” You threatened with a smile.

Peter took you by your hand, pulling you down the hall. He led you around the corner to a less crowded hall and looked at you in concern. You crossed your arms once his grip on you was gone, chewing the inside of your cheek. His eyes were soft, eyebrows furrowed. He scanned your face for some hint as to what was wrong, but he came up empty.

“Alright, what’s up with you?” He asked carefully. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You snapped.

“Y/N.” He tried.

“Peter.” You replied in the same tone.

“I’m serious!” He urged, his hands tugging his backpack straps. “You usually ignore Flash or just flip him off. You look like you haven’t slept in days. What’s going on?”

“My dad.” You gave in, offering half of a truth. “He reached out the other day. Him and my mom got together and thought it’d be good for me to get to know him. He offered me a summer job.”

“Is that what has you freaked out?” He sighed in relief. “Jeez, Y/N. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Cause I don’t wanna do it.” You shrugged. “I’m only doing it for my mom. She still loves the jerk.”

“You’ve never told me anything about your dad.” He tried, seeing if he could get you to talk through it. As you opened your mouth to speak, the bell rang.

“That’s our cue to go.” You gestured to the intercoms above you. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Promise you won’t dodge it?” Peter said accusingly, pointing a finger at you. 

“I do not dodge.” You defended, but Peter’s stare convinced you otherwise. “Okay, maybe I dodge a little.”

“Pinky promise.” He held out his pinky. “Pinky promise me right now that you’re not gonna avoid this and we’re gonna talk about it?”

“Seriously?” You smiled.

“Yes, seriously.” He chuckled. “Pinky promises are sacred!”

“I pinky promise.” You hooked your pinky around his. “You know, if you don’t kiss to seal a pinky promise, it doesn’t count.”

“Really?” He furrowed his brows, releasing your pinky to tug you forward by your belt loops. “Never heard that one before.”

“Mhmm.” You nodded, wrapping your fingers around his backpack straps and gently pulling his lips to yours. “It’s a new thing that started like five seconds ago.” You smiled before placing your lips against his.

“I love you.” He mumbled against your lips.

“I love you too.” You replied gently when he pulled away.

“Parker! Y/L/N!” You heard Mr. Dell yelling from down the hall. “If you two don’t get to class right now, I swear you will be in detention for a month!”

You screamed softly, grabbing Peter’s hand and running off to class. The first half of your day was easy enough. Your classes were simply going over projects or introducing new topics. You took easy notes, trying to ignore Peter’s concerned stares. You noticed bruises along your knuckles as you wrote, feeling pain every time you gripped your pen. You hoped Peter didn’t see the flex of your hand, but you had a feeling he did. Peter seemed to notice everything.

During lunch, Peter pulled you to the bleachers by the football field. You resisted, telling him you didn’t want to talk about it at the time. He ignored you. Peter refused to allow you to avoid it, gripping your wrist tight enough so you couldn’t slip out but not tight enough to hurt you.

“Peter, will you stop?” You sighed, uselessly trying to tug your arm out his grip.

“No, cause you’re gonna bail!” He countered, leading you to the top of the bleachers. “Sit down.”

You glared at him as you crossed your arms defiantly.

“Please.” He said softly, his eyes pleading.

You sighed slightly, caving to his soft expression. You dropped into a seat beside him, dramatically dropping your hands into your lap. You tilted your head to look at him as you waited for his questions.

“What happened to your hands?” He started with.

“What about them?” You asked, lifting your now makeup covered hands. You used a bathroom break during the only class between morning and lunch you had without Peter to quickly cover the bruises.

“In Physics when you were taking notes, you kept making a noise when you held your pen. Like it hurt.” He pressed.

“I shut my finger in my window last night…” You said quietly, as if you were embarrassed. 

Peter was growing more and more suspicious of your sudden injuries. He knew you had been playing softball for years and wore a facemask when you pitched. He knew you didn’t open your window at night because you didn’t like moths getting into your room. He was starting to wonder if something else was going on, something you couldn’t tell him.

“What about your dad?” He changed the subject, deciding he’d hang around your apartment later that night on patrol.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you who he was.” You laughed in annoyance. “Everybody knows my dad.”

“Your dad is a celebrity?” Peter teased with half a smile.

“Oh, ha ha.” You mocked with a smile. “I’m serious!”

“I know, I know.” He chuckled. “Okay. Who is he?”

“See, you know him.” You argued, trying to find a way to tell Peter without telling Peter. “I mean, I never made it obvious that you knew him but you do… You met him kinda recently…”

“The only celebrity I’ve met recently is Mr. Stark.” Peter answered in confusion. You cringed slightly, covering your eyes and shaking your head. “Mr. Stark is you d-”

“Shut up!” You hurried to cover his mouth. “Why do you think I never told anyone!? Tony never cared about me before so I don’t acknowledge that we’re family.”

“Y/N, that is awesome!” He geeked.

“No, it fucking sucks.” You countered. “Pete, my mom left him when I was born because she didn’t want to be part of what Stark Industries does. Did. And then he went and made the Iron Man suit and became a hero.” You rolled your eyes. “He was the biggest weapons supplier in the country and suddenly he’s the good guy? It’s bullshit.”

“Mr. Stark is a good guy.” Peter defended gently, a slight shrug in his shoulders.

“I’m glad you like him.” You said honestly. “My mom still likes him too… I just can’t. You know how I feel about that whole superhero stuff.”

“I mean..” Peter casually shrugged. “Not all superheros are bad… Y’know, like Spiderman.”

“Yeah, Spiderman.” You scoffed, remembering the reason behind your lingering black eye and bruised knuckles. “I’m sure he’s great.”

“You don’t like Spiderman either?” Peter asked sadly.

“It’s nothing personal!” You argued quickly. “I mean, he’s probably some random guy pushing his mid-20’s that thought he could make it big time with Captain America and Iron Man. But from someone who has seen it, Tony Stark doesn’t care about the little guy.” You covered.

“I- I wouldn’t say Mr. Stark doesn’t care.”

“I would.” You confirmed. “Peter, you and I obviously know two different Tony Starks. And that’s fine. You met one who actually wants to mentor and care about a kid. I’ve never even met the one I know so... I guess we’ll see how it goes when he comes to town in a few days.”

“Right…” Peter trailed off, turning his attention to his food.

Pete had always known how you felt about heroes. He knew you were never their biggest fan, but you never really explained why. Peter never pressed the issue because he figured that you would tell him when you wanted, and he didn’t want to risk exposing his alter ego. But knowing that you hated heroes because your dad was Iron Man only made things more complicated. He started to wonder if Mr. Stark knew he was dating you. He wondered if Mr. Stark was purposefully absent in your life. Peter felt like he was in the middle of a war, being urged to pick a side. Peter wanted to be Switzerland, to remain neutral.

Later that night, you left your apartment building in your costume. You wandered aimlessly, not knowing what you were even doing on the streets anymore. You felt like your alter ego was a chore now, something you had to keep up for Spiderman’s sake and less of your own. You blew out a defeated sigh, realizing another idealized figure in a mask had swallowed an aspect of your life.

With no other outlets, you turned and slammed your fist through the glass of a nearby bus stop. The remaining fragments showed an etched image of Spiderman. The shards dripped, the yellow glow of a nearby streetlight giving the blood an unnatural hue. You shook your hand, a stinging sensation shooting through.

“Son of a bitch.” You mumbled, knocking out the rest of the glass. You held your hand close to your chest, pressing hard with the other to slow the bleeding.

“We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this.” A familiar voice came from above you. Looking up, you saw Spiderman perched on the roof of the bus stop. “Did you break that picture of me?”

“A well deserved breaking, I think.” You smiled tightly. Sliding your meter to a higher pitch, you softened your expression to mimic a plea. “Please Spiderman, I need help. My hand is bleeding and it- it hurts.” You feigned fear, sniffling to add effect.

Spiderman jumped off and landed softly in front of you. He cautiously held his hand out for you to take so he could examine the injury. Once he was close enough, you reached out to grab him by the forearm. You twisted his arm outward, driving your knee up into his ribs. When he doubled over, you slammed an elbow against his spine to lay him out.

Peter groaned slightly, rolling onto his back. All he wanted was to go to your apartment building and see what you were up to. He just wanted to check on his girlfriend, but no. Nothing was ever simple for Spiderman. He didn’t even know if Heretic had a goal when she started fights with him. He was starting to think she just wanted to annoy him.

“Y’know, Heretic.” Spiderman mumbled from the ground, causing you to freeze. “It’s not nice to trick people.”

With an eye roll, you reset your vocal meter and turned to face the spandex suited boy. “You think I care what you have to say?” You laughed. “I couldn’t care less what you think about me, Spiderman. Did you ever stop to think that people like me pop up because of people like you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Spiderman asked, carefully pushing himself up to a crouching position. You stood fully, gesturing to yourself as you spoke again.

“Everything I can do is because of tech I developed.” You explained. “My mask has a neurotransmitter that’s linked to my knives that are coated in different chemical compounds that trigger different bodily responses. My vocal range is due to a soundwave manipulator that can change my pitch. My shoes are completely sound-proof. Nothing about what I do is natural.”

“But what does that have to do with me?”

“Villains arise to challenge heros.” You clarified. “If this wasn’t a world of superheros, I wouldn’t be doing this. I’d be a different person.”

“What if you could still be a different person?” Spiderman offered, standing to be eye level with you.

You scoffed slightly, crossing your arms. “How? Pulling a Tony Stark and suddenly deciding I’m going to be the good guy? Suddenly realizing that what I do hurts people so I need to make amends? Oh, but I won’t make amends to the people I’ve hurt. No, I’ll hide behind a suit and be a vigilante. That’ll be my redemption, right?”

Peter stood there in shock, dumbfounded for a moment. He was starting to connect the dots, but he was hoping he was wrong. He was praying that he was wrong. Peter was starting to wonder if Y/N and Heretic were the same person. He realized how many things were lining up. Every night he fought Heretic, Y/N came to school with an injury. Every night that he talked to Heretic, she brought up superheros and how she hated the thought. But something about the Tony Stark speech, the deep rooted pain that was conveyed in her words, it was painfully familiar. But Peter knew better than to speak on it.

In a split second decision, Peter bailed.

“Gotta go!” He said quickly before swinging away.

You watched Spiderman leave in surprise. Spiderman never ran from fights between you two. It was seemingly out of character for him, but you shrugged it off. You didn’t care enough to follow him nor did you care enough to really think about it. You simply headed home, trying to figure out how you’d explain your busted knuckles to your mom and Peter.

What you didn’t see was where Spiderman went. Peter decided to test his theory, to do a little investigating of his own. He swung to the building across from yours. He could see the fire escape outside your window. He always knew which one was yours because you kept Christmas lights shaped like snowflakes around the bars. You had explained your reasoning for keeping them up to him one night, saying you kept them up so you would have cute lighting for night pictures and so you would have light when you two sat on the fire escape at night.

Peter waited for what felt like forever. He had almost given up his suspicions when he saw Heretic climbing the ladders. He was pleading for her to keep climbing, to keep going past your window and he could put the whole idea to bed.

His heart dropped when he saw you enter your window.

“She’s Heretic…” He said sadly, defeated almost. “I can’t tell her now… Maybe I can’t tell her at all.” He reasoned with himself as he headed home. “She hates Spiderman. She’ll hate me. What she finds out and breaks up with me? Oh my god.”

The next day was Saturday. You woke up to a throbbing pain in your hand. Looking over, you saw your knuckles swollen and red, covered in dried blood. Sighing in annoyance mixed with regret, you dipped a nearby shirt in a glass of water on your nightstand. You gently scrubbed some of the dried blood, wincing when you pressed too hard.

“Honey!” Your mom called from down the hall.

“Yeah, Ma?” You yelled in response, quickly dropping the shirt before her head popped in.

“Get ready.” She said simply. “Tony is coming today.”

“He’s actually coming?”

“Yes!” She said happily. “God, I haven’t seen him in years.” She sighed dreamily.

“Can Peter come over too?” You asked, leaning to the other end of your bed where your phone was charging.

“You want Peter to know?”

“He already knows.” You shrugged in defeat. “He pried it out of me at lunch yesterday.”

“If you’d be more comfortable, sure.” She smiled softly. “Now at least shower and put on real clothes.”

“Alright, alright.” You laughed, pushing yourself out of bed.

“What happened to your hand?”

“I was on the fire escape last night and one of the-” You tried to explain.

“Stop.” Your mom cut you off. “I don’t want you to keep lying to me, Y/N. Are you doing this to yourself?”

“What?” You asked in shock. “No! No, Mom. I’m not doing this to myself. I’ve just been distracted lately with this whole Tony thing that I haven’t been paying attention that much. The truth is I spilled some chemicals on my hand yesterday in Chemistry and I was embarrassed about it so I didn’t say anything…”

“Oh, honey.” She sighed, coming into your room to sit next to you on your bed. “I know this is a lot to process, but I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“I’m only doing this cause you asked me to. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. Thank you, by the way.”

“Thank me when it’s over.” You smiled slightly.

While you got ready, you messaged Peter that you wanted him to come over. He told you he had to do some paperwork for his Stark internship first and then he’d come over. Instead, Peter had called Mr. Stark who was stopping at Peter’s apartment before he made his way to your home.

“What do you need, Kid?” Tony asked Peter. “I have somewhere else to be today.”

“Yeah, Y/N’s place.” Peter filled in, keeping his eyes on his busy fingers.

“She told you?”

“Yeah…” Peter nodded carefully. “But there’s something else I need your advice on.”

“Spit it out then.” Tony said, waving his hand to coax Peter. “Her mom is gonna kill me if I’m late.”

“Well, you know how I’ve been fighting this new villain…”

“Heretic, yeah. What about her?”

“I know who she is… And the problem is that I know her.” Peter explained. He didn’t want to say Y/N’s name when he was talking to Mr. Stark because he didn’t know how Mr. Stark would react. After all, he still loved Y/N. That much didn’t change.

Peter was only bringing it up because he was scared. He knew from the start that telling Y/N he was Spiderman was going to be hard since she didn’t like heroes to begin with. But now that he knew she was Heretic, knew that she was doing what she was doing because of him, it scared him. He was scared of how his relationship with her would change. He didn’t want to lose her. He couldn’t lose her. She meant so much to him, more than he could ever put into words, but now there was an even bigger elephant in the room.

“What do you mean, you know her?” Tony asked carefully.

“I go to school with her. I have classes with her. I hang out with her!” Peter’s voice began rising, panic lifting the octaves in his voice. “Me and her get along! But she hates superheroes. A- and she doesn’t know that I’m Spiderman. But if I told her now, what if she stops talking to me? She’s already thrown me off a building so if she knows, I don’t know what it’s gonna do to-”

“Back up.” Tony interjected. “She threw you off a building?”

“Yeah, but I was fine.” Peter shrugged it off. “The point is, Mr. Stark, I don’t know what to do.”

Tony paused, thinking about what he wanted to say next. He could tell that Peter was upset and scared. Tony was wondering how important could this girl be to him, especially if he’s already dating Y/N. Tony shrugged it off as being a childhood friend, but he still chose his next words carefully.

“You got two options.” Tony said, holding out both hands. He lifted his right slightly higher. “First option, call her out on it. It’d probably expose you since she interacts mostly with Spiderman.” He leveled his right and lifted his left. “Second option, you tell her who you are and see if she exposes herself. Either way, you have to tell her who you are.”

“What if she hates me for it?” Peter asked softly.

“Doesn’t seem like you have a lot of faith in her.” Tony questioned.

“I do!” Peter corrected quickly. “But… I can’t lose her, Mr. Stark.”

“Who is she to you anyway?” Tony pressed. “You break up with Y/N or something?”

“No, no, we’re still together. She’s just someone I’ve known for a long time.”

“You’re not cheating on my daughter, are you, Parker?”

“It’s so weird hearing you call her your daughter.” Peter laughed nervously. “But I’m not cheating on her. I would never.”

With a satisfied nod, Tony motioned for Peter to follow him. Together they went to your place. You sat in the living room with your mom. You had covered up the lingering black eye and bruises along your knuckles. You couldn’t do anything about the cuts so those were left in the open. You were dressed decently, a simple white t-shirt with a blue flannel and jeans. Your mom was a bit more dressed up, and while normally you’d tease her, you knew why she was doing that. So you let it be.

Peter entered first, knocking three quick taps before letting himself in. He placed himself next to you, saying he finished his internship stuff sooner than he thought so he headed over. You leaned against him, his arm wrapping around you. A few minutes later, someone else knocked on the door. Your mom jumped up, hurrying to open the door.

“I’m gonna throw up.” You muttered, rolling your eyes.

“You’ll be fine.” Peter chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead. “If it goes well, want to go get ice cream after?”

“What if you spend the night instead?” You countered, turning to look at him with a gentle pout. “Please, Pete. We can make sundaes and binge Star Wars.”

“Don’t give me that look.” He groaned, pushing your face away with a laugh. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

“Love you.” You said in triumph.

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too.”

“Y/N, I’d like you to meet your father.” Your mom said as she came back into the living room with Tony Stark following behind her.

Suddenly, you were at a loss for words.You never thought the man would actually show, but there he was in your living room. He was dressed nice, as expected. A sharp suit with slightly tinted glasses. He smiled softly, and it seemed to be real. All of the snarky comments you had planned to use were suddenly forgotten. You were just a lonely kid again, wondering why her dad was gone.

“Hmm.” You managed through closed lips, nodding in acknowledgment. You saw the look your mother flashed you, one reminding you that you had promised to try. Peter nudged you slightly, urging you to say something more. “Glad I got to actually meet you before I turned eighteen. Here I was thinking you forgot I existed.”

You had intended for it to come out sharp, to inflict damage to his ego if nothing else. But hearing your own voice, it felt strange. Your words had no edge, no venom. Only pain. Loneliness. But your resentment wouldn’t show in your voice, no matter how badly you wanted it to.

“Peter and your mom have told me a lot about you.” Tony opened with, sitting on the loveseat with your mom. “Did you get the letter I sent?”

“The Stark Industries letter?” You laughed. “Yeah, trashed it.”

“What letter?” Peter asked carefully. “Y/N…”

“It was a joke.” You said flatly, not looking at Peter.

“I offered her a summer job.” Tony explained. “With the opportunity for something more permanent if she wanted it after summer.”

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me?” Peter asked you.

“Can we talk about this later?” You urged quietly.

Peter nodded slightly, muttering a response before losing himself in his own thoughts. He knew you’d rant to him about how the conversation went anyways, so he wasn’t missing anything by zoning out. He was more concerned with how to explain that he knew you were Heretic. He didn’t want to lose you because he was Spiderman, but he couldn’t keep fighting you.

“You never called.” You said to Tony, trying to maintain the level in your voice. “You sent a birthday card and that was it…”

“I thought it’d be best if-”

“If you pretended I didn’t exist.” You cut in. “I get it.”

“It’s not like that, kid.” Tony sighed.

“Then what is it like? You ran the most successful weapons corporation in the country but stopped production because you saw the pain you were causing. So you changed Stark Industries to something that was better. You created your Iron Man suit to be a vigilante that protected the nation. Until your old coworker got ideas. Then it was the son of one of Grandpa’s old friends, one that helped create your Arc Reactor. Oh, and then the Mandarin, right? Fast forward a bit and now you’re running the Avengers. You can do all of this to try to make the world a better place but you can’t be a family man?” You pressed. Once you started speaking your mind, the words wouldn’t stop. The words flowed like water from a broken faucet, unable to be stopped. “How you gonna fix this? You can’t even fix yourself!”

“Y/N, honey, let’s calm down a bit.” Your mom tried to settle you.

Your hands were now trembling, your eyes were burning with tears that wanted to be released. You wanted to cry out of sadness, out of anger. You were finally getting the chance to take the weight off your chest, to stop blaming yourself for why Tony was never in your life. You were able to get the answers you wanted since you were a child. But something about that chance was scarier than when you took up your alter ego.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” You shook your head. “But I can’t. It’s not fair for him to put the world as a priority when he can’t even put his family in the top ten. You still love him even though you know he doesn’t care about us. He cares about you, if that.”

“What do you want me to say?” Tony tried calmly. “You want me to ask to move in with me at the Tower? Cause you’re both more than welcome to. Your boy Peter is there all the time for internship stuff. You can still go to Midtown.”

“You think trying to be in my life now is going to fix what you did?” You laughed as you shook your head. “Tony, I don’t want your money! I don’t want you to suddenly pretend like you want to be a father to me. What I want is the truth.”

“You want the truth?” Tony pressed.

“Yes.”

“Because it’s what your mom wanted!” Tony answered quickly. “When she left, she asked for me to keep my lifestyle away from you guys… She just wanted you to have a normal childhood, Y/N.”

“What?” You asked carefully, turning your attention to your mom. “You asked him to stay out of my life?”

“I didn’t want you to be in danger.” She said softly, sadly almost. “I know I made a mistake, but I’m trying to fix it. Why do you think I reached out after all these years?”

“Don’t try to make it sound like you did this for me, Mom.” You stood suddenly. “I’m not responsible for your self-made obstacles.”

With that final line, you went to your room and shut the door. You couldn’t control your tears anymore, covering your face with your hands to muffle your sobs. Your heart felt heavy, shattered deep in your chest. The pain felt like you couldn’t breathe. You grew up hating your father, superheroes, and everything they stood for. You created an alter ego to let out that hatred, to focus all of your pain on one source. On Spiderman. But now, now it all felt misplaced.

A light tap at your door sounded before it opened. You were on your floor, arms crossed over your bed under your head. Your chest was rising and falling heavily, your breaths shallow and broken. The bed dipped with the weight of a body and a different hand landed on your back.

Peaking up, you saw Tony sitting on the edge of your bed. Glancing to the side, you saw Peter on the floor next to you. You sat up with a sigh, wiping your face with your blanket. You laughed nervously, casually using your foot to kick your duffle full of Heretic gear deeper under your bed.

“I guess I owe you an apology, Tony.” You said, your voice raspy and sad. “I guess I just needed someone to blame...”

“You didn’t know.” Tony reassured you. “You were right to be angry, Y/N. I should’ve done more, even if your mom asked me not to. See, I was always worried that I was going to end up like my old man so I used that as an excuse to stay away. But! I was wrong. My offer still stands for you to come stay at the Tower.”

“I can’t leave my mom.” You shook your head. “She’s all I’ve ever had… Other than Peter.”

“Y/N, I- I kinda have to tell you something.” Peter said carefully.

“This is the girl!?” Tony cut in suddenly. “Now might not be the best time.” Tony said with a quick shake of his head.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, since people are being honest, I um- I have a secret… A pretty big secret.” Peter continued.

“Peter.” Tony said. “Don’t do it.”

“Wait, Dad. Hold on.” You waved Tony off, focusing on Peter. “What kind of secret?”

“Aw, you called him Dad.” Peter smiled before focusing back on his reveal. “Okay, so you know my internship? Well, it’s not qui-”

“Quite an internship anymore.” Tony cut in, throwing his hands to the side in a grand reveal. “Congrats, kid. You’re officially part of the team.”

“Wait, what?” Peter questioned. “No, that’s not-”

“That’s really great, Peter.” You hugged him tightly. “Although, I wish you didn’t make it sound so bad. I thought you were going to say you had a secret life or something.”

“Yeah… Sorry.” Peter chuckled nervously. “Guess I could’ve worded it better, huh?”

“I’m happy for you, baby.” You smiled as you pulled away, kissing his cheek quickly. You stood, turning your attention to Tony. “As for you, we can’t change the past… And I get that you were just doing what my mom asked, but there’s a lot of built up resentment towards you and superheroes.”

“Well, you have a superhero family whenever you want it.” Tony offered you his hand to shake. “Go on. Shake my hand.”

“Why?”

“Shake it first.”

“No, tell me first. I’m not going to agree to something without knowing the facts.”

“Fair enough.” Tony nodded. “We agree to spend time with each other once a week, alternating in who picks the activities. You’re my daughter, Y/N. And contrary to what you may think of me, I do want you in my life.”

“I can agree to that.” You smiled slightly, shaking his hand.

“And we tell each other something new everytime we meet up.” Tony added. “I’ll go first. I know you use the credit card I gave you for knife-throwing lessons, martial arts, throwing knives, and a lot of biochemicals. Now you go.”

“What?”

You were dumbstruck. You hadn’t even thought about the fact that all of your purchases were on the bill that was sent to Tony. You felt like an idiot, not even thinking about whether or not Tony would read the bill. Let alone that he would call you out on it in front of Peter.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You tried.

“Yes, you do.” Peter sighed. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about… We know that you’re Heretic.”

“How do you know about Heretic?” You turned on Peter, eyes squinting in suspicion.

“The black eye. The busted and bruised knuckles. The fact that you come to school more and more tired every day. Y/N, I know something is up. The other night I saw Heretic climbing through your window and-”

“Your apartment is five blocks away, Peter.” You cut in. “There’s no way you could’ve seen anything from your apartment. Were you spying on me?”

“No, I-”

“Did you have someone else spy on me?”

“No, I just-”

“Then how did you see anything?”

“Because he’s Spiderman.” Tony said plainly. “Sorry, Peter, but you weren’t getting anywhere.”

“You’re…” You spoke carefully, processing the sentence. “You both need to leave. Now.”

“Y/N, baby, please don’t do this.” Peter tried.

“Leave!”

In silence, both of the boys walked out of your room and out of your apartment. You locked your door, ignoring your mother’s knocks and conversation attempts. You laid in bed until the next morning, simply staring at the ceiling. Your mind was racing, looping back to the conversation in your bedroom. You wanted to scream, to cry, to curse the universe. But all you could do was stare numbly at your popcorned ceiling. You felt empty, like you had truly lost everything. You had nothing. You were nothing, a hollow shell of who you had been mere hours ago.

[yacoka]

the journey back

i. a life half-lived

character(s) — tsukishima kei, matsukawa issei

pairing — tsukishima kei x reader

genre — royalty!au, reincarnation!au, soulmate!au

warning(s) — death, PTSD, loss, car accident

beta(s) — @/doughnuts-5ever

masterlist

The funeral is something you barely remember, white noise buzzing loudly in your ears as you move around almost mechanically. In front of all these people, you aren’t quite sure how to act, and the subdued pride in you refuses to break down so publicly.

You’re ushered around by warm hands, seated in chairs, drinks pushed into your still hands. Hushed whispers are exchanged above your head, but you can’t be bothered to figure out what it's about. All that runs through your mind is the scene of the accident playing on repeat. You watch it with a morbid fascination, eyes distant as you recall the burning heat on your skin, the stinging in your eyes, the aches on your body. The blood that trickles into your eyes as you scream yourself hoarse at the mangled bodies of your parents, how broken they were, how dull their eyes were.

You blink once. Twice. Thrice.

Cool beige walls greet you as you begin to take in your surroundings. A grey couch, an askew photo frame on the wall, a familiar shirt and worn sweatpants.

“Issei?” Your voice is small, and your breathing begins to quicken. “Issei!”

He comes darting through a door, a towel hanging around his neck. You jump to your feet and dash into his arms, gripping the soft material of his shirt tightly. His arms flail around in surprise for a second before coming to wrap around you tightly. He smooths your hair down, and the familiar action has you calming down.

“You’re at my apartment, it’s okay.” His deep voice grounds you, and you look around to see that, yes, this is Issei’s apartment. One that you’ve been to too many times to count. It is a place you’ve spent many days lounging in, and many nights sleeping over at.

Issei guides you back to the couch gently and you cling to him, refusing to let go of the one thing that was holding you back from tipping over the edge. There are so many words you’d like to say right now, but the only thing that comes out are strangled cries.

Everything that you’ve been holding back since the accident, everything that has been pushing against the flimsy door you’ve hidden it behind comes pouring out in the sobs that wrack through your body. Issei doesn’t bother with words; he knows they aren’t what you need right now.

What you need is family, and he’s all you got left.

“Issei!”

Sweat drips down your neck, soaking the flimsy shirt you wore to bed. All you could focus on was the screeching of car tires and the horrid, wrenching twist of metal twisting as your parents flew out of the car, their broken bodies strewn across the street. And all the blood, god, there was so much bloo-

Your door slams open, and Issei flies in, his hair sticking up in all directions as his sleep-clouded eyes are filled with worry. He slips into bed, kneeling in front of you. The heat of his knees brushing against your legs through the sheets has you shifting uncomfortably, though his presence soothes your panicked mind.

He doesn’t say a word, too accustomed to waking up in the middle of the night to your nightmares. He just sits and waits for your breathing to even out, eyes trained upon your twisting fingers. A familiar silence sits between you as you match your breaths to Issei’s steady breathing.

“I-I had the dream again.” Your voice is soft, trembling ever so slightly. You hate the weakness showing through, and you would give anything to put the usual mask of indifference. But this was Issei. Issei who had been there for you since you were kids, who had watched you skin your knees the first time you tried rollerblading, who had helped you sneak out of the house when your parents were fighting. He was the one who took you in after you lost your parents, and the only one you trusted enough to be vulnerable around.

“Do you wanna go walk?” Issei, ever the reliable best friend. He knows what you need before you even say anything. You nodded, letting him pull you off the bed. It is only with years of familiarity that you allow him to dress you in warm clothes without any shame. He’s seen all of you before, so what was the point in hiding?

You’re out of the house and walking down the dimly lit streets before you even realize, and the creeping shadows in the corner of your eyes has you shifting closer to Issei. He wraps a warm arm around you, pressing you into his side. He’s the only safety you’ve ever known, and that stays true tonight as your raised heartbeat steadies out.

The night is quiet, punctuated only by the distant sounds of cars, the soft rustle of leaves dancing along to a gentle melody playing in the back of your mind. You hum along to it, and Issei merely squeezes your shoulders in response. It’s a song you’ve sung a million times since childhood, and neither of you have bothered to acknowledge that it’s a song you’ve never heard.

You aren’t sure for how long you’ve looped the blocks, and when you’ve arrived back home. All you know is that your mind is no longer a panicked mess, and Issei is by your side, as he used to do, as he’s always done. You owe everything to him, and you would give everything up in the world for him.

“Do you have everything you need?” Issei fusses over you as you give him a tired smile. He had taken it upon himself to take care for you since the accident, and while you appreciated him for it, you didn’t adore the mothering he occasionally did.

“Yes, Issei. I have everything.” Your dry response has him raising his brows and backing away.

“Alright, alright. I get it. No more fussing.” He grins at you, hands raised. “Can you blame me though? You’re heading into college at last.”

A frown slips onto your face. “You’re only a year older than me dipshit. Stop making me sound like your child or whatever.”

“Ah, but you are now. My adoptive child,” he sniffs and pretends to wipe a tear away. “How they grow up so fa-”

The fist you send flying into his stomach is enough to knock the breath out of him, and he groans, dropping to the floor in his usual show of dramatics. You ignore him, stepping over his prone figure and head towards the door. But before your hand lands on the door handle, Issei yells at you to wait.

“What Issei? I’m going to be late at this rate.” He isn’t deterred by your sharp tone and gestures for you to wait as he disappears into his room. “Whatever, just hurry up.”

He comes running back out, brandishing a long, thin thing. Was that a stick?

A vision flashes through your mind's eye, only for a second, but the details are vivid - Issei looking as sleepy as always, but somehow different. His clothes were of olden style, his face littered with scars. And those hands, ones that you were so familiar with, large and calloused were holding a stick too.

You blink rapidly, washing away the lingering after images as Issei, your Issei, waves a lazy hand in front of you, the stick narrowly missing your eyes.

“Oi, earth to Princess.” You scowl at him.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Then don’t zone out when I’m giving you presents.” He pulls a face at you. You mirror his expression, go as far as to stick your tongue out. Issei makes to poke it with the stick, and you lunge back with a shriek.

“Why are you even giving me a stick anyways?” You grumble. Honestly, nineteen years with this guy and you still have no idea how his brain works.

“Because it reminds me of you!” He grins.

Your face falls into a deadpan. “It what?”

“You know, stick, sticky? Like how you dropped your ice cream the other day?”

“You know, I worry for you sometimes,” you drawl, dead eyes boring into his smiling ones. “Besides, didn’t you bring me that already?”

His smile drops. “No? This is the first time I’ve brought you a stick?” Issei narrows his eyes at you. “Who else has been giving you sticks? Was it Makki? I’ll fight his ass!”

“No, it wasn’t Makki. You’re the only weirdo who gives me stupid things like this,” you snicker. “Can I go to school now?”

“Wait! Bring the stick with you.”

You gape at him, brows raising so high it was a wonder they didn’t jump off your face. “No.”

Issei pouts, though you could see the amusement shining through. “Why not? I got it for you as your first day of uni gift.” He shoves the stick closer into your face, and you bat it away.

“Because it’s a stick? And it’s too long for me to fit in my bag?” This doesn’t deter him, instead prompting him to break off a piece of the twig, shoving it into your hand before darting off to your room.

“Okay, here, now you can have a tiny piece of it to put in your pocket. I’ll put the rest in your room!”

“Issei, no-” The fight leaves you, knowing that your stubborn best friend won’t listen to anything you say. Stuffing the piece of twig into your pocket, you yell over your shoulder as you leave the house. “Whatever, I’m leaving.”

His voice calls out from where he still lingers in your bedroom. “Bye Princess! Have a good day at school!”

The journey to the university doesn’t take long, and before you even realize, you’re seated in your first class next to a lanky blond who has his headphones on as he messages someone. You frown slightly at him, an odd sense of deja vu washing over you as you stare at him. He must have felt your gaze on him, as he finally lifts his gaze off his phone to return your frown.

“Can I help you?” Despite the politeness in his words, you pick up on the slight undertone of annoyance. You shrink back from him, and mutter out a soft no, turning your head to stare down at the wooden table instead. You shove your shaking hands into your pockets, your fingers curling around a thin, rough object.

Please look away, please look away, please look away.

He huffs, and turns back to his phone, fingers returning to their rapid dance across the screen. Despite his chilly greeting, you couldn’t shake the odd feeling that settles upon your skin, clinging like spiderwebs. But there isn’t time to contemplate it, not when your teacher’s starting the lesson and your laptop hasn’t been set up yet.

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

“I’ll Be Here”

Title: “I’ll Be Here”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Warnings: Nightmares, insomnia, mentions of past trauma (nothing graphic)

Word Count: 4,800...because I have no self-control 

Summary: Y/N hasn’t been sleeping well, can Bucky find out why?

The first time I noticed Y/N's insomnia was during an early morning training session. 

She was off to the side, sparring with Natasha as I worked on strength training with Steve. The two women were on the mats, wrestling with one another. I should've been paying attention to the weights in my hands -- something Steve would no doubt scold me for soon -- but as usual I was more interested in watching Y/N. Not because I was totally infatuated with her or anything, just because she was acting a bit off. 

Right. 

Usually Y/N and Natasha were well matched; the two assassins typically sparred for nearly the entire session with neither one getting the upper hand for more than a few moments at a time. Today, however, Y/N was lagging. Natasha managed to pin her in just a few minutes. What's more, Y/N took a few seconds longer than usual to get back on her feet -- normally she was quick to hop up on the off-chance that she was knocked down, but today it seemed like she was moving in slow motion. Confusion rippled through me at the sight of the usually confident and collected assassin lying on the mat looking defeated and tired. Y/N and Natasha exchanged hushed words briefly before Y/N stomped off, grumbling to herself. 

I wasn't tired in the least -- namely because I hadn't even really been working for the last few minutes -- but I felt my curiosity slowly getting the best of me. I stalked off under the guise of getting some water, eyes trained on Y/N's hunched form. I sidled up to her as casually as I could manage and grabbed my bottle. She nodded curtly in recognition of my presence but didn't speak. 

I felt my eyebrows crinkle together in confusion. Y/N wasn't like the rest of the team -- impossibly chatty and self-assured, she was never crabby or tired during training. Realizing I hadn't kept up the act well at all, I sipped from my water almost robotically. While I sipped, I tried to subtly study her face, wondering what could possibly be causing her to act so out-of-character. I noted with concern the deep, purple circles under her eyes and the far off expression on her face.

I opened my mouth to question whether or not she was alright, but was abruptly cut-off by Steve's shout to get back to training. Rolling my eyes, I flashed Y/N one last look of concern before jogging off towards my friend. I'd have to file this encounter in my brain for later. 

After that I began to watch Y/N more closely, trying to figure out what it was that troubled her. She seemed to bounce back by the time I'd seen her later in the day, and I all but forgot my concerns. It wasn't until a few days later that her lack of sleep entered my consciousness once more. 

It was movie night in the tower, and I was bored out of my skull. Everyone had gathered in the tower's massive living room for the weekly event -- Sam and Tony were arguing over which movie to watch, Wanda and Vision were sitting practically on one another's laps as they chatted idly with Nat, Steve sat scribbling on yet another mission report, and Peter was hanging upside-down from the ceiling as he patiently waited for the movie to begin. I was sitting furthest from everyone else, keeping to myself and idly observing the various conversations, when Y/N wandered into the room. 

Though I still internally thought she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, it was instantaneously clear that something was wrong with Y/N. She looked similar to that morning in the training room -- large bags underneath each eye and a somewhat pained expression splayed across her features.  Maybe it was the way she seemed to move more slowly across the room or just her general aura of dishevelment, but whatever the case she just seemed off somehow. I felt myself growing more concerned by the moment. 

She plopped down into the spot next to me, and I instantly felt my heart rate pick up at the proximity. Heat flooded my face as my mind became a jumble, and I was suddenly thankful that the only other people with super hearing in the room were currently busy at the moment. I tried my best to stifle the stupid little flutters raging inside my belly as I murmured a 'hello'. Y/N rubbed her face tiredly before mustering up a smile and muttering a half-hearted greeting. 

"You doing okay doll?" I asked concernedly. She chuckled lightly, shifting a little in her seat so her head was leaning against my flesh arm. She settled into the position with an ease and familiarity that both warmed my heart and sent me into a panic all at once. 

It was strange, the effect Y/N had on me: on the one hand, she had this ability to calm my entire body with just a single touch, but on the other hand it also made my mind race with over-eager thoughts and feelings. Even now, the feel of the soft skin of her cheek through my shirt sleeve was enough to send tiny pricks of electricity throughout my entire body. But it wasn't the harsh, painful sensations my mind seemed to expect -- Y/N's touch was always gentle, welcomed. Even so, my mind raced with thoughts of why on earth she felt so relaxed around me. Was she just like this with everyone? Did it mean anything? 

"Just fine Buck," her half-joking reply broke me out of my mental musings. "Why, do I look ugly or something?" 

I immediately began floundering, shaking my head quickly and stuttering out apologies so fast I almost missed the soft giggles eminating from Y/N. Even though I was pretty sure she was kidding, I continued to ramble on, unwilling to let her think for a second that she was anything less than gorgeous. Thankfully, she only let me panic for a few moments before lifting her head fractionally and smiling at me. 

"S'okay Buck, I know what you meant," she chuckled amicably before settling back into my shoulder. "I'm alright, just tired as always."

If anyone would've asked, I would've sworn my face was on fire. I hummed lightly in response, not trusting my voice at the moment. Thankfully, Nat saved me further embarrassment by rolling her eyes and laughing. 

"Of course our little insomniac is tired," she quipped good-naturedly. "When's the last time you actually slept Y/N/N?"

I frowned down towards Y/N in concern. She just snickered at Natasha's question, flipping her off as she smiled sweetly. Nat chuckled once more, letting the subject drop and turning her attention back to her previous conversation. Evidently Tony and Sam had finally agreed on a movie, and the lights dimmed as the main titles began to play. 

"You're not sleeping?" I softly questioned. Even though she hadn't been moving before, I could still feel the way she stiffened at my question, and my concern grew. She recovered quickly however, turning her head just enough to look me in the face and shooting me a wary look. 

"Do any of us?" she questioned back. Her face was illuminated by the soft glow of the screen, eyes darkened with a look I couldn't quite place and features as vulnerable as I'd ever seen. The sight of her, so close to my face and so open all but took my breath away. I opened my mouth to respond --

"Hey lovebirds, can you quiet down over there?" Sam interrupted loudly. I tore my gaze away from Y/N to find the entire team looking over at Y/N and I with amused and expectant expressions. Y/N buried her face into my arm at the attention, clearly embarrassed. Unconsciously, my arm wrapped around her frame and pulled her deeper into my side. I glared at Sam and flipped him off with my free hand. He and the rest of the team chuckled before turning back to the movie. 

After the intrusion I was too distracted by the feel of Y/N being tucked into my body to question her any more. Also, she did end up falling asleep during the film, head resting gently across my chest and expression serene. She managed to sleep through the entirety of all 3 movies Tony insisted we watch. Normally I would've left part way through the first, but I would rather die than disturb Y/N as she peacefully slept. She clearly needed it, and the fact that she was cuddled up to me as she did it was just a happy coincidence. 

I chalked her lack of sleep up to a generational difference. Maybe millennials had just learned to get by with less sleep? I wasn't totally up to date with the ins-and-outs of this new generation, but I was fairly sure that insomnia was a common problem. People could say what they liked about them, but I was honestly blown away by the amount of shit that people in this age had to deal with. College cost more than a house would've back in my day, employers were getting pickier and pickier about who got a job, and there was a near-constant threat of some kind of world-wide disaster at any given moment. Not to mention the fact that apparently the arctic was melting? Global warming disturbed me to no end, especially since it was one of the only reasons Steve had been found in the first place. Of course people slept less easily these days, why would Y/N be an exception? 

Currently, we were on our way back from a routine mission. We were the only ones on the Quinjet, sitting across from one another as we flew home. Neither of us said much, both happy to decompress from things silently. 

Studying her face as we sat, I felt the familiar feeling of concern bubble up in my chest at the sight. Her eyes were almost bloodshot, lids weighing heavily as she leaned against the side of the jet like she was fighting to keep them open. The purple bags that I'd first noted all those weeks ago had only seemed to have grown, now sagging low on her face which seemed paler than usual. Her expression was flat, mouth and brows drooping into a very uncharacteristic frown. 

Though I was worried, I wasn't willing to break the comfortable silence Y/N and I had created in the jet. I watched as her eyes fluttered shut and snapped open for a few minutes before she finally succumbed to her tiredness and fell asleep. I breathed out a sigh of relief I wasn't even aware I'd been holding in as I watched her struggle. I wasn't a religious man, but I was suddenly thankful to whatever god listening that she was actually getting some sleep. 

Settling back into my seat, I watched as she slept and internally planned a way to bring her out of the jet without waking her. Seemed simple enough -- she'd slept soundly enough all those weeks ago at movie night that I was able to gather her up into my arms and bring her to her room without waking her. It wasn't exactly difficult to convince myself to help her once more. Outside of the fact that I was legitimately becoming concerned about the amount of sleep she was getting, I would be lying if I said I wasn't thrilled at the prospect of having Y/N in my arms once more. Last time she'd cuddled into me so tightly, like a kitten curling up on your chest. If I concentrated hard enough I could practically still feel her warm body against my torso. The mere thought raised a light blush to my cheeks and made my legs start to lose strength. 

I seriously needed to get a grip. 

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts I almost missed the sounds Y/N was making. The soft whimpers reminded me almost like the sounds dogs make as they dream -- small, high-pitched noises that squeaked from her lips as she slept. Her body was still slumped against the metal frame of the jet, but with one glance I could tell her posture had definitely tensed. Her fists were clenching and relaxing over and over, eyes squeezed closed tightly, and every now and then her whole body would jerk around. Fear and guilt pooled in the pit of my stomach as I realized what was happening. 

Y/N was having a nightmare. 

I froze for a moment, unsure what to do, until Y/N let out another cry of pain and terror, louder this time. My body was instantly by her side without even checking in with my brain first before moving. I pulled her onto my lap gently and began rubbing soothing patterns around the expanse of her back with my metal hand while the flesh one delicately cupped her face. She was trembling all over and her fists immediately wound their way into the fabric of my shirt and clenched as she hung on for dear life. 

After a few moments I decided I had to wake her. Whatever was going on in her head was clearly causing her immense fear, and it felt like my heart was breaking with each jerk of her body or whimper of pain. I began softly calling her name, hands still moving gently across her skin as I tried to rouse her. 

It didn't work. 

My gentle prying hadn't woken her in the slightest. In fact her movements had become even more erratic -- she was now thrashing in my arms, futilely trying to fight off whatever she was facing in her dream. Mind whirling, I gripped her tighter and began calling her name louder. 

She woke with a start. Her bloodshot eyes flew open and she instantly attacked me. Her fists flew quickly and landed solidly against my jaw as she scrambled off my lap. She jerked away, back landing against the farthest wall of the jet and posture defensive. Her eyes were wild with a kind of dangerous fire I recognized all too well. 

 I raised my hands up in surrender, not moving an inch from my place. 

“Y/N, it’s me. Bucky. You’re safe, it was just a dream,” I explained slowly. “You’re safe.”

Her eyes darted back and forth for a few seconds, and I could practically feel the realization seeping through her. The fog of terror from her nightmare was slowly fading from her face, giving way to a look of vulnerable confusion. 

“Bucky?” she breathed. Her chest was still heaving with each breath she took and her voice was small. Y/N’s eyes were wide as she searched my face for an answer, and I felt a wave of sympathy roll through me at the panicked, bewildered emotions that were written all over her face. I nodded slowly and began to lower my hands. Y/N sucked in a breath as the final flash of recognition crossed her features and she let out a sob. 

I was up in an instant, arms winding around her shaking body and lips murmuring encouraging words into her hair. I could feel her tears starting to soak through my shirt as she clung against my chest and sobbed. A deep, unsettling weight made it's home in my belly as I listened to her cries. I pushed the feeling down as I comforted her, trying everything I knew to end her anguish. 

Eventually her sobbing slowed, and the jet was silent once more, save for a few hiccups and sniffles every now and again. My hands were still absentmindedly rubbing against her back, but I took her silence as a good sign and I pulled my head back marginally so I could look at her more fully. 

The sight of Y/N's face almost broke my heart in two. Her normally clear skin was now tear-stained and covered in red and pink splotches, and the area under her eyes was puffy. Her mouth was set in a deep pout that didn't suit her at all. Worst of all was the look in her eyes -- her Y/E/C irises looked like a storm cloud, pain and despair swirling within them in a way I was all too familiar with. They looked like the way I often felt during my more dark moments, and the idea that she was feeling anything close to that twisted the rock-like knot even deeper into my lower belly. 

"Y/N…" I murmured emphatically. She sniffled, pulling one of her arms away from its place entangled in my shirt to rub some of the errant tears away from her face. I guided her gently back to one of the benches and we both sat without detangling ourselves from one another.

"Sorry," she whispered almost robotically. "I just...I had…". 

"A nightmare?" I supplied quietly. She nodded, body beginning to lean away from mine as if she was going to pull away. My grip on her tightened marginally, unwilling to let her go just yet. She seemed appreciative at the silent offer of support, and her head rolled back into the crook of my neck easily. 

"How long?" I asked evenly. Though I couldn't see her face anymore due to our position I could feel the way her body tensed at the query. My hands began running up and down her back once more, almost of their own accord. After a few moments her muscles relaxed a bit under my soothing touch, and I breathed a silent breath of relief at the progress. 

"Since Ultron, I guess," she whispered so quietly I almost missed it.  I felt my brows furrow even deeper at the admission -- Steve had filled me in about what had happened in Sokovia, but if I was recalling correctly that was almost 2 years ago. Guilt flooded my chest at the sheer length of time Y/N had been struggling without any help. 

 “I watched...there was a kid, and he…I couldn’t”

“You don’t have to tell me,” I cut her off quickly. Her only response was to burrow deeper into the crook of my neck, seemingly grateful to be spared the task of reliving the nightmare. Though the feeling of the soft skin of her face against my neck was enough to send those embarrassing flutters through my body, my mind was still working in overdrive to try and figure out a way to reduce Y/N’s pain. 

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I...I want to help". 

I felt Y/N's small smile against my neck and I shivered at the gentle movement of her lips. 

"I know you do Buck, but there's nothing to be done," she mumbled regretfully. Almost immediately afterwards she yawned and began stretching her limbs like a cat around my frame before settling back into my embrace. I couldn't help but chuckle fondly. 

The only sounds that filled the jet now were the soft whirring of the engines and the sound of the air passing by the outside as we flew. For a moment I wondered if Y/N had fallen asleep again, but the steady thrum of her heartbeat and the quiet yawns she let escape every now and again told me otherwise. After a few minutes of silence I quietly spoke up once more. 

"I get them too you know."

Y/N's face turned upwards just enough so she was looking me in the eyes. Her expression was guarded, but I could see the spark of curiosity in her eyes. 

"Really?" 

Even though her tone was nonchalant I could easily tell that she cared more about my response than she'd like to let on. I nodded, swallowing thickly and glancing away from her. 

"Yeah. I used to get them back during the war, but they really started up bad after everything with HYDRA," I explained as calmly as I could manage. I could practically feel the holes her eyes were burning into my face as she watched me intently. 

"I still get them sometimes but not as much.”

“Wh-what did you do to make them better?” she asked curiously. I shrugged. 

“I dunno. Therapy and time I guess,” I supplied. Her hopeful expression faltered slightly and guilt fanned through me. “Sorry, I know that’s not exactly what you probably wanted to hear.”

Y/N shook her head, yawning. 

"S'okay Buck, you're just being honest," she mumbled against my shoulder. "Wasn't exactly expecting an answer anyways."

She let out another huge yawn. My hands paused briefly on their circuit up and down the expanse of her back as a thought filtered through my mind. 

"You should sleep doll," I murmured softly against her hair. "I can tell you're exhausted."

Y/N yawned once more and shook her head stubbornly against my chest. 

"S'fine Buck. I've been worse." her soft voice filtered up, slightly muffled by the fabric of my shirt. I frowned. 

"Y/N…" I warned disapprovingly. 

"Seriously, I'm fine!" came her sleepy, half-hearted protest. "Besides, if I do it'll just…"

She trailed off, but the weight of what she was alluding to covered the air in the jet like a thick, wet blanket. The tension in my brows relaxed marginally as I was hit with another wave of sympathy. I tightened my grip on her body into what I hoped was a comforting embrace. My heart lifted and those damned butterflies erupted into a frenzy as I heard her sigh contently. Not even a beat later I felt her burrow herself even further into my arms and I couldn't help but smile at the feeling. 

"It's okay doll. I'm not going anywhere, I'll be here if it happens again," I ventured quietly. After a few moments of contemplation Y/N lifted her head from my chest, and I felt a flash of fear tear through my body. Maybe I'd crossed a line? What if she didn't appreciate my nagging, or thought I was overstepping the boundaries of the tentative friendship we had? I opened my mouth, poised and ready to spew apologies for intruding, but closed it seconds later as I caught the look on her face. 

Her Y/E/C eyes were wide, unshed tears lining them as she looked up at me. Her expression was one of pure adoration, full of hope and cautious optimism. The sight of it almost knocked all the breath out of my body. 

"Yo-you will?" she breathed, voice small and hopeful. Warmth filled my chest and I smiled. 

"Promise." I vowed. Her face split into a lopsided grin and her cheeks flushed with the most adorable pink splotches I'd ever seen. She held my gaze for a few moments longer before her face disappeared into the confines of my chest once more. I settled back into the side of the jet with Y/N's form still gathered closely in my arms, utterly content and pleased with the way things had turned out. 

In no time at all I heard her breaths begin to even out and the beating of her heart slow as she fell back asleep. I sat back, hands still absentmindedly running along her back as she slept with my mind racing as it tried to process the last few minutes. Normally after even the briefest interaction with Y/N my brain would be riddled with self-doubt and anxiety, over playing each second over again and internally cringing at my reactions. But it was hard to form any thoughts that were semi-coherent with her cuddled peacefully against my body. Instead, my mind was occupied by scanning every visible inch of her form, working desperately to try and commit the sights, sounds, and feelings to my memory. 

It didn't take long before the jet landed back at the tower. I paused momentarily before carefully gathering Y/N in my arms and walking out. I made a beeline for her room, ignoring or silencing any of the team we met along the way with a single glance. After the struggle on the jet I’d be damned if one of them woke her. Not that they really tried -- everyone backed off pretty quickly once they noticed Y/N’s sleeping form, irritatingly smug smirks plastered across their features. If it weren't for the sleeping beauty in my arms I was certain that any one of them would've had a litany of teasing comments at the ready. Especially Tony. Poor guy looked like he might have an aneurysm if he didn't get to spit whatever sarcastic jab his brain was cooking up out soon. 

Eventually I made it to her room, and settled her gently into her bed. 

It wasn’t easy. 

Even asleep Y/N was still one of the most stubborn people I knew. She grumbled petulantly in her sleep, and I practically had to pry her off my chest to get her onto the bed. Once I'd successfully detangled my shirt from her fingers' iron grip, I removed her combat boots and brought the covers up over her curled up form. She'd pay hell in the morning from Tony for sleeping in her dirty tac-gear and ruining the sheets, but I sure as hell wasn't about to wake her to change. After I was sure she was settled, I took one final glance at her peaceful face before turning to leave. I made it all the way to the door, finger hovering over the light switch, before I heard her. 

"You said you'd be here."

Y/N was sitting up in her bed, eyes half-lidded and palms rubbing against them tiredly as she piped up. I smiled unconsciously at the sight of her sleepy expression. 

"That I did," I chuckled softly. She raised an eyebrow curiously. 

“So stay here...” she murmured. “Please.”

I nodded, crossing the room once more and dragging her desk chair with me as I went. I set it down next to her bed and settled in before motioning for her to continue sleeping. She blinked a few times, amusement and exhaustion lacing her features. 

"No, you old man," she giggled quietly, patting the empty space next to her. "I meant here as in here."

Now it was my turn to blink in confusion. 

"O-oh," I stuttered. "Is that -- I mean if you want…"

Y/N chuckled again, clearly as amused by my floundering when half-asleep as she was when she was awake. 

"Just get in here Buck."

No need to tell me twice. I shucked off my boots and crawled into Y/N's bed beside her. I paused as I pulled her blankets over my body, uncertain as to what to do next. 

I mean, she seemed like she liked being in my arms back in the Quinjet, but maybe it was different now that we were in her bed? It certainly felt different -- even though the space between us couldn't have been more than a few inches at most, it felt like there was an entire country between Y/N and I. Things were too close, too intimate. I was powerless to make even a single move under the crushing weight of the implications thick in the air. And yet my fingers were twitching against her mattress as they fought the urge to wrap her up in my embrace once more. 

Evidently, Y/N noticed the distance between us. 

She rolled over to her side so that she was facing me. Though she still looked like she was having some trouble keeping her eyes open, there was a glint of mischief and some other emotion in them as she surveyed my frozen form. I glanced down at her briefly, muscles completely stiff and immobile as I silently wondered what the hell I was going to do next. 

Y/N giggled once more, the sound sending the butterflies in my core crazy. She mercifully closed the space between us as she settled into my side. Her head nestled against my chest and her arms threw themselves around my frame like I was a pillow. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief, muscles relaxing considerably as I wound my arms around her and pulled her flush into my side. 

"Thanks," she murmured sleepily. Her eyes were already closed and I could feel her heartbeat slowing as she fell asleep once more. 

"Anytime Doll," I whispered fondly, nose nuzzling into the hairs atop the crown of her head. I yawned, suddenly extremely aware of just how tired I was. I leaned my head down against Y/N's and closed my eyes too, sure that for once I'd be guaranteed a good night's sleep.