#today will be a challenge bc it's so cold and also bc i dropped something v important to me

[hopeintheashes]

📝I looove the sweet, domestic/home-y sickfics, but I've also always kind of wanted to see your take on a sickBuck-in-the-field fic. Maybe he was feeling a little off, but some disaster happens -it's all hands on deck so, he jumps in (bc "a little cold isn't worth being a man down"). But then, something happens when they're out responding & Buck&Eddie get separated/lost from the group. Buck takes a turn for the worse & Eddie has to use his field medicine training to try to treat him best he can

Thanks for the ask! Things like field medicine are challenging for me because I don't know anything about field medicine... but basic first aid I can do. (I think. Please do not take this or any fic as me actually knowing what I'm talking about, lol.) So, here, have some illness + injury, with Eddie taking care of Buck in the field. :-) This was for the Follower Milestone Celebration. Prompts for that are now closed. Read it here or on AO3. Content note: discussion/description of wounds/wound care.

He could've called out today.

He shivers in spite of his long-sleeved uniform and the November sun and the steepness of the hill he's currently forcing himself to climb.

If he'd called out today, and someone else would've been called in. And it's Thanksgiving.

Well, not technically anymore, but when you work the kind of job they do, Thanksgiving falls on whichever day you've got off work. And for half the people on the other two shifts, that's today.

So no. He wasn't going to call out.

And hell, this isn't so bad. They'd been taking bets on which mall they'd be called to to deal with some Black Friday shopping-related disaster. Instead, they've been sent to look for two roommates who had, in a post-Thanksgiving fit of ambition, decided to hike a trail far above their experience level.

Or. To hike right off the trail, as the case may be.

God, he's tired.

They're out of sight of everyone else at this point; just him and Eddie following an old branch of the trail that's no longer maintained but that the hikers could have followed in their confusion. Dispatch has them on the phone, but their description of where they are sounds like every other square foot of the nature preserve.

His breath is tight in his chest. He's sweating, and shivering, and nauseous from exertion.

Eddie's focused, and steady, and looks like he's just strolling down the block.

Buck's next breath comes as a gasp, and his feet stutter to a stop of their own accord. Elbows on his knees. Trying not to heave. Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.

"Buck?" Eddie, doubling back, coming in close. Buck tries to wave him away. "You okay? What's going on?"

He gestures at himself, up and down, like that explains it all.

And maybe it does, because Eddie's sigh doesn't even contain a hint of surprise.

Buck looks up at that. "What?" Breathless. Hoarse.

"I knew it. Yesterday at dinner? You were too quiet." He's got a hand on Buck's back, and then on the backpack handle. Taking some of the weight. Buck almost drops in relief.

"I can be quiet." The words scraping his throat.

"No." The backs of Eddie's fingers brush over his forehead. Gentle and concerned and fond. "You can't."

It's Eddie's touch that does it, he thinks vaguely when he shivers hard, and then again, and again, and then things are a blur of Eddie taking off his backpack for him and setting it on the ground and helping him sit down beside it, and Buck protesting weakly and then not at all as he coughs and coughs.

"Shit," Eddie mutters, and Buck feels his eyes fill with involuntary tears.

"Sorry." Broken, barely heard. "I can—" He trails off. "Sorry."

"Shut up," Eddie says, but it sounds like you're okay, I've got you, and the first of the tears fall.

The radio crackles with the other teams checking in. No luck yet. They'd have to get special permission for a drone or helicopter because of the protected birds. Between the lack of immediate life-threatening injury and the fact that anyone who would usually approve these things is at home with their family, it's just them. On foot.

And the hikers, lost and scared, asking dispatch over and over, Are they coming? Are they almost here?

He stands up abruptly and Eddie makes a noise of protest and surprise. Buck hauls his backpack onto his shoulders. It weighs a million pounds. He's dizzy, off balance. He shouldn't've stood up so fast.

He has a stubborn streak a thousand miles long.

He starts down a dip in the path, Eddie scrambling behind, because he will not be the reason those girls don't get found.

He will not.

He will not.

He will not.

His lungs are spasming in a way that makes him feel sick and his head is spinning and all his muscles burn, but in the end, it's the gravel of the trail, loose like scree on the steepest downhill yet, that takes him out.

"Buck!"

He's flat on his ass, blinking in surprise, trying to take it all in.

"Buck." Footsteps closing in, slowing down. Eddie, hands hovering, looking him up and down. "Are you hurt?"

He opens his mouth to answer, and then closes it again. Is he hurt? Everything hurts. But that maybe isn't the answer Eddie wants.

"Buck." Gentle and close. Buck looks up at him, tears in his eyes again. Still. "Take a second, it's okay."

This bitten-off sob, which is fucking ridiculous, he is fine. He slipped on loose pebbles and landed on his butt. Like a five-year-old. He is fine.

His palms are stinging. He holds them up to get a look, and the blood doesn't quite compute. Blood, and gravel dug in deep, and the delicate curl of pale skin where it should be lying flat. Ow? He furrows his brow, and then something clicks. Ow.

"Oh," Eddie breathes, and his fingers are careful under Buck's hands, taking their weight. Then one hand supporting both of Buck's, and the other tracing over the damage, careful not to touch.

Something else clicks, and he starts to shake.

"Okay," Eddie says, steady and calm. "Hands. Got it. Anything else?"

Everything else. He pulls in a breath, which just makes him cough, turned into his shoulder as best he can while Eddie still holds his hands.

The movement is enough to bring one hot point of pain to the forefront, glowing through the fog.

"My…." He stops to swallow. Tries not to start coughing again. "My ankle." He gestures with his chin toward his right foot. "Rolled it on the way down." Or maybe rolling it had sent him down. Doesn't matter now.

"Hands and ankle." Still so calm. Then, when Buck's breath catches again and he has to bury his face in his shoulder again: "And that cough." His fingers are still gentle on Buck's hands. "And your fever." Passing both of Buck's hands back into one of his so that he can trace the backs of his fingers against Buck's temple. "Anything I'm missing?"

Buck shakes his head. Closes his eyes. Then, with the smallest hint of a smile: "I mean, my ass kind of hurts. But I think that's gonna be fine."

Eddie huffs a laugh, but he's already pulling out his phone to shine the flashlight onto Buck's palms to get a better look. "Okay. This part's not going to be fun." He carefully releases Buck's hands. "So let's take a look at that ankle first." Then, thoughtfully, looking around: "There's some shade right there, if you think you can make it before we take off your boot?"

Buck grits his teeth and nods, and then, with another nod, he's being pulled to his feet by the elbows, Eddie making sure not to run into his palms. A wave of nausea, sharp hot-cold, but he breathes through his nose and lets Eddie walk him down the hill. He tries to distance himself from the pain; to pretend that this is happening to someone else.

He feels every step.

Eddie sits him down on a rock in the shade. Unties and loosens his boot. Pulls it off as slowly as he can, but Buck still gasps. "Wiggle your toes?"

It sucks, but he can, and after some more unwelcome poking and prodding Eddie nods. "I'm guessing sprained." Buck nods numbly, because he knows what's coming next. "Let me wrap it, and then we'll start on your hands, okay?"

He nods again, because there is no alternative here. He can feel the need to cough building in his chest, and he hates it and dreads it and can't fight it anymore. Eddie braces him with a hand on his chest and the other on his back, rubbing slow circles as he gets his breath back. Buck slumps against him. The adrenaline of the fall is wearing off, and everything just hurts.

The crackle of the radio, and Buck has the sick realization that they're going to have to tell someone what happened.

Tell everyone what happened.

He groans quietly and Eddie shifts a bit so that he can get to his radio without making Buck sit up again.

"Cap?" Steady, steady. "We've got a bit of a problem here."

Buck closes his eyes and lets the words wash over him: the explanation, the worry, the planning, the "good luck."

The only upside of their current situation is that they have well-stocked medical kits, along with food and water and other supplies. But—

"What if the hikers need this stuff?"

Eddie looks up from where he's wrapping Buck's ankle. "They'll get whatever they need from whichever group finds them. Which, I'm sorry to say—" he secures the wrap— "won't be us."

"Right," Buck whispers. Eyes down.

Eddie pats his good ankle sympathetically, then rocks back on his heels. "You ready for this next part?"

"No."

Eddie doesn't fight him, just rubs his knee and then stands up. Stretches out his legs. Pulls the supplies he'll need out of the bag.

Buck swallows thickly and braces himself. "Okay."

"Okay?" Eddie's eyes search for his, and lock in, and he waits until Buck nods to say, "Okay."

Gloves on. Tweezers out. Bottle of saline solution. Packets of gauze for afterward.

"Your choice."

Buck hesitates for a second, then sticks out his right hand, the one that took the brunt of the fall.

There's something about the inside of you being exposed to the outside that is very unsettling indeed, but it's the saline running over those parts that should be inside but suddenly are not that trips his vasovagal response.

Eddie's hand is on his back and his head is between his knees and he's gagging; he's faint; he's shaking hard, whole-body tremors like an earthquake.

What was that earthquake, 7.1?

If there hadn't been the earthquake he wouldn't've met Ali.

That's a weird thought.

He hasn't thought about Ali in a while.

Ali-Taylor-Abby, thrown backward in time like your body against the seatbelt when the brakes get slammed.

Car crashes.

Chim, pinned. Chim, stabbed.

Maddie's blood in the white of the snow, in the white of the collar of his sheepskin coat.

Eddie, in the rain and the mud and the impossible odds. I thought I lost you.

I thought I lost you.

He retches again.

"Okay," Eddie's murmuring; "Okay, okay."

Hold onto that voice like a lifeline. Eddie's here, alive, in the air and the heat of the afternoon sun.

Buck tries to grasp for him, but that's a terrible goddamn idea right now, and Eddie stops him with a warning, shushing sound. "I'm right here."

Some kind of sound, frustration and sickness and fear, and then Eddie's smoothing his hair back again.

"I'm right here."

Eddie kicks dirt over the mess on the ground, and gets him to lie down in the shade a little ways away. Recovery position, just in case. Arm outstretched so Eddie can work on his hand.

It's sick, dizzying work. He can feel the tweezers digging out the rocks. He's panting with exhaustion, and pain, and the way the ground is rolling beneath him. Eddie is talking quietly. Mostly about Christopher.

It helps.

The first hand takes so long that the adrenaline fades, and then it's just sick awfulness, the fever magnifying every sensation and mixing them together until he's heaving again, bile and spit in the dry, dry dirt. Eddie's wrist meets his forehead, wiping away sweat with the cuff of his uniform shirt, blue-gloved hand angled carefully away.

"Sorry," he whispers, eyes closed tight. The headache that started yesterday on his drive over to Eddie's for Thanksgiving dinner is a vice grip now.

"You're okay," Eddie says, gentle, and Buck shivers and tears leak from his closed eyes, and the dig-dig-digging goes on and on.

More saline poured into the wound, the world spinning, and then Eddie's bandaging his hand. Buck lets his eyes flutter open, and Eddie gives him a little half-smile. "One down."

"Oh god." Under his breath.

"The other one's not as bad." Eddie gives his arm a squeeze, then sits back to check in on the radio. "They're gonna send an ATV," Eddie says, correctly guessing that Buck's tuned out the staticky chatter. "Once they find the girls." He tries to keep his tone light and hopeful, but Buck knows that means the timeline is still completely up in the air.

"Okay," he whispers, and holds out his other hand.

It goes faster, this time; less blood and fewer rocks and more of the skin intact, but it's still torturously slow. Eddie's telling him about Christopher as a little kid now, back before Buck met him. When he first discovered the wonder of creatures and planets beyond this time and place: dinosaurs and woolly mammoths and Mars and Jupiter and the asteroid belt.

And then both hands are wrapped and he's coughing weakly, curled in on himself for warmth, and Eddie's stripping off his gloves and repacking the first aid kits and the backpacks and coming around to sit behind him with his back against a rock.

"C'mere," he says, and Buck curls up with his head on Eddie's thigh, still shivering hard and coughing into the dirt. Eddie pulls out the space blanket covers him up. "Just for a little while," he says, and Buck nods, because he knows he has a fever, knows the air temp is perfectly fine; knows that medically, Eddie shouldn't be letting him trap all of his heat.

"Thank you," he says: for the warmth, for the comfort, for patching him up; for his endless patience and gentleness and everything else.

Eddie runs his fingers through Buck's hair, pausing with his palm on his forehead. "Think you could keep down some painkillers? For your hands, and your ankle, and to get that fever down?"

His palms and ankle and head are throbbing. He nods, and Eddie comes up with pills and water and half of a granola bar that Buck grudgingly eats.

"My throat hurts," he murmurs when all of that's done, half-asleep with Eddie's fingers still running through his hair. He shivers, but it's sporadic chills now, the space blanket doing its work. Amends, "Everything hurts."

"I know." Low and familiar and so perfectly Eddie."They're gonna find those girls, and then they'll come for us, and then we'll go get you patched up and then I'll take you home. My place," he clarifies before Buck can even contemplate going back to his empty loft, and then grins. Buck can hear it in his voice. "Christopher will take good care of you."

"Not as good as you." Slurred with sleep.

Eddie hums, and it sounds like agreement. "Sleep for a while. I've got you."

He does.

[teklarn]

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 (𝓹𝓽. 2)

 character(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader 

a/n: ok so i just started writing on tumblr and honestly in my opinion for my first time posting smth on this the first part did really well thank u for all the likes :) (told from second pov; e.g you, your) reblogs are greatly appreciated :))

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention. 

genre: a lil bit angsty 

warnings: cursing, jealousy, mutual pining, slow burn romance, aged-up to third year, love triangle (square?), physical injuries, kirishima gets a little toxic, also shirtless bakugou (awooga), a crap ton of time skips bc i can’t write action scenes for shit, bakugou is a flirt (lowkey but yeah), mentions of blood 

word count: 2112

pt 1 , pt 3

- - - 

kirishima had broken the skin on his lower lip with how hard he was biting it. he stood in the bathroom, rinsing his mouth, ignoring the slight sting the water brought. 

y/n was currently being blasted by bakugou, and they were fighting back. 

jealousy panged in his chest. 

bakugou had never let him know about how he felt about you, however kirishima was sure he felt something for them. you and bakugou were both a jumble of prideful and longing stares towards each other from across every room. the tension was thick enough to slice through. and while kirishima would never make a move in fear of ruining the friendship between him and bakugou, as well as him and y/n, gosh it didn’t stop him from wanting to. 

he’d stood on the side, cheering you on to no end. the sports festival last year, the year before that, training exercises, he was always there. kirishima was always there. 

whenever you needed him, whenever you wanted his company. so what did bakugou have over him? sure, the blond was strong and had bigger goals than kirishima, but why should that matter? 

what did bakugou have? why would you want him more when he was never near you? never made an effort to see you to be there when you asked for help. 

it was popular belief that bakugou was a noisy idiot, but he was actually quite a quiet boy. he didn’t bother to raise his hand in class, however he always knew the answer. he spoke rarely and only made conversation with those he was close with if they were the ones to make the effort to converse with him first. 

jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. kirishima despised it. 

whenever did he begin wanting to beat bakugou at something? 

the cloud of guilt welling up in his chest was going to become unbearable, and soon everything he ever wanted to say was going to come up like word vomit at the worst possible time. 

- 

you swiped at your cheek, brushing off the crumbling dirt. your timing had been off, and their flip backwards had landed you in an awkward position. a vulnerable one. 

honestly, though, it wasn’t like it really mattered. bakugou was a bit transparent himself. he wore a smug look like a golden medal, and held back his power just enough to keep you on your feet. 

his cocky attitude was irritating and it drew you in like a moth drawn to a lamp. 

sweat was beading down your temple. the day was exceptionally hot, the sun beaming down on your back like a proud child. 

you and bakugou had been at it for a while. with anyone else, you would have quit by now. it’s not that you gave up easily. no, not ever. but fights could get boring, especially if you were just smashing away at them with your quirk and they were acting like they could take it. 

perhaps you were being cocky. 

this fight, though. this was interesting. not only because it was bakugou; also because you knew so little about him. 

it was likely he never shared anything important to anyone. he was quite introverted. 

it was interesting for another reason. 

it was hot, bakugou sweats a lot. gosh, he looked delicious without a shirt on. he had a built figure accompanied by strong arms and a broad chest. 

he’d filled out quite nicely the past few years. you hadn’t noticed until now how much he’d grown. 

“don’t get distracted.” 

your eyes snapped up from his chest to his eyes. bakugou became a blur, shooting himself off the ground and flipping once in the air before propelling himself back down. 

before you could do anything, bakugou had you pinned, one leg pinning yours, both his hands wrapped around your wrists. he’d ditched his gauntlets, leaving the metal assistants in the sweltering heat, claiming he wanted to give you an equal fight. 

he panted atop you, hands tightening. 

tokage didn’t bother to leave her dorm today, thank goodness. it had just been the three of you. you, bakugou, and kirishima. 

the red head had suspiciously vanished halfway through the fight, though.

bakugou’s crimson eyes bored into yours. neither of you blinked for a moment. perhaps just a small eternity each of you silently reveled in. 

his erratic breaths slowed, and so did yours, although you stayed the same. unmoving, faces neutral but eyes giving away long-held secrets. 

your ears flushed, and butterflies came rising up uncontrollably. you should have pushed him off. instead you gave him a wicked grin, which earned a look from him and you couldn’t tell if he was confused or annoyed. 

“your big ass forehead is blocking the bright-as-hell sun. stay like this,” you mocked, wrenching your wrists from his grasp and snaking your arms around his neck. 

his cheeks burned red. “w-what?” 

“you heard me.” 

he scoffed, tugging you off his neck and standing. “shut up, shitface. we aren’t even done yet.” he readied himself in a fighting stance once more. 

“i thought you said you wanted to stop when you won?” you brushed yourself off as you stood. 

“i know what i said. you probably weren’t even giving it your all.” 

“’course i was.” you cocked your head. “why wouldn’t i?” 

“you’re strong, damn idiot.” 

you feigned surprise, pressed a hand to your fluttering chest. “the bakugou, dynamight himself, complimenting a humble soul like me? oh, i really must be good, then.” 

“not as good as me.” his face dropped from a smile. bakugou never got enough training no matter how early or late he stayed up, or how many hours on the weekends were spent kicking a bag or sparring with friends. hard workers did all of the work there was a still wondered if they were doing enough. the number one spot wasn’t empty, but it was still reserved for dynamight. 

- 

y/n had collapsed on their bed. kirishima was itching to tell them how he felt, however he was stuck at the doorway. 

they weren’t even dressed for bed, nor were they showered. 

he settled with leaving his friend alone, and shut the door softly to find bakugou standing right behind him. 

kirishima jumped back, closing his eyes in relief. “bakugou. what the heck man?” 

“you’re creepy as shit.” 

“i- what? you were the one staring at me while i-” 

“while you peeped in on y/n?” 

“i wasn’t peeping. i walked them back after the fight and they just collapsed. you were off doing something else and you worked them too hard.” 

it wasn’t a shock that bakugou was still riled up from the duel. this boy had the energy of a mad man. 

when bakugou didn’t say anything, kirishima said once again, “you overworked them.” 

bakugou swat away the comment. “only because they’re not working hard enough.” 

kirishima raised an eyebrow. “they work hard. they’re perfectly fine.” 

“fine?” 

“they’re amazing.”

“i know that, shitty hair. you think i’m blind?” 

“everyone can make improvements at their own pace.” kirishima’s voice dropped. 

“you train with me.” 

“it’s an hour before curfew.” 

bakugou jut a thumb in the direction of the door. “so? maybe you need some more practice, too,” he joked. 

“you’re an ass, bakugou,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle. 

the two wandered off to one of the training grounds. it was open, a wide court where they’d both kicked someone else’s ass. 

the sun was just setting, a new cool breeze coming to fill the spot of the violent sun rays. 

it was routine to fight each other out of nowhere. kirishima was usually quite playful, spewing jokes once in a while and taunting his friend. 

this fight was different. his face was stone-cold. kirishima often took the defensive role, as his quirk didn’t allow him to project any direct attacks to bakugou.

it wasn’t like kirishima was angry at bakugou, but as soon as they started charging towards one another, he couldn’t hold back. his chest tightened, arms hardening and joints becoming strong and stiff. 

with one clean sweep of his arm, bakugou was backing away from kirishima, propelling himself to the edge of the arena with a small blast. he’d always been up for a challenge. kirishima was willing to give him one. 

his sudden competitive demeanor seemed to be egging on bakugou’s. the blond tongued the inside of his cheek, grunting as he shot forth, hair flying wildly. 

swiftly, kirishima dodged, just barely missing a blast. his torso wasn’t hardened, so if he’d dodged any later, his stomach would have been scorched. 

bakugou always took their fights seriously. he knew better than to underestimate the boy who had put together his very own rescue mission. 

kirishima’s opponent stumbled from the momentum. he took his chance and brought a hardened elbow down on bakugou’s back, hearing a satisfying crack. 

bakugou was crushed to the ground with the hit. his face smashed into the sandy ground. he coughed, turning over and spitting dirt to the side. 

it took a moment for him to register what he did, but kirishima was at bakugou’s side within seconds. the sun was nearly gone, a pale blue sky flickering with the first sights of stars. 

it was hard to make it out at first, but not impossible. kirishima saw the blood dripping and smeared just above bakugou’s lip. he groaned, cupping his face in both hands as he sat upright. 

“argh” bakugou gasped. “shit, kirishima. what the hell?” 

“i...i’m sorry dude, i didn’t mean to.” i wanted to, but i didn’t mean to. 

bakugou raised an eyebrow and let a smile seep through his pain. “you’re improving, though.” 

“are you alright?” kirishima traced the small cut on his lip from earlier with the tip of his tongue. 

“i’m fine, i’m fine.” bakugou swatted his hand away. he struggled to get up, refusing kirishima’s help. 

“we should head back before this gets any worse.” 

bakugou kept his large hands hovering under his chin to catch the dripping and occasional chunks of blood.  

although he wanted the duel to continue (it was finally interesting) bakugou wasn’t stubborn enough to keep going. so he nodded, once again denying kirishima’s efforts to help him out. 

- 

you were in the common area, fiddling with a rubik’s cube. it was just you, as everyone else was spending the night among each other. ashido had invited you to her dorm a while ago, but you’d denied, wanting to spend a few more giddy moments to yourself. 

the door rattled, and in came your two friends, one with furrowed brows and the other with blood drenching the front of his shirt. 

bakugou’s head was tilted up in an attempt to stop the blood from flowing down. his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the blood trailing down the back of his throat. 

“oh my gosh,” you gasped out, racing to the bathroom. you came back with sanitary wipes in one hand and tissue in the other. “what happened?” 

“we were training,” kirishima started, taking a few tissues from the box and handing them to his friend, “and i accidentally hit him too hard.” 

“you didn’t hit me that hard. you barely did any damage!” bakugou objected. you approached him, and through his fingers, bakugou peered down at you. 

you asked him with your eyes, and he gave you silent permission to pry his arms away from his face. “are you okay?” 

“i’m just dandy,” he scoffed. 

“dude, i’m really sorry—” 

“shut the hell up kirishima. i don’t want your pity. i swear this is the only time i’ll surrender to you, you asswipe.”

you didn’t laugh, not even a chuckle. “bakugou, you need to see recovery girl.” 

“what the hell? no way. all she’s gonna do is give me one of those shitty slobbery kisses and scold me for being careless.” 

“your nose is broken,” you said gently. 

“so? can’t you fix it?” 

you raised a questioning brow. “you want me to help you?” 

“can you or can you not?” 

“i can try to set it but you’re better off going to recovery girl instead of settling with―” 

“all i need is possible. i don’t want to deal with that old lady’s shit right now.” using the tissues kirishima had stuffed into his hand, he caught the remaining blood dripping down his nose. “let’s go.” 

you were more than unsure. he would end up with a crooked nose if you made any small mistake, but he didn’t think twice as he grabbed your shoulder and led you in the direction of your dorm. 

- 

kirishima wished he hadn’t broken bakugou’s nose. not because he felt bad, though. 

[singtotheskiies]

to the rescue // teen! ben hargreeves x reader

summary: when it’s your turn to be parenting experiment of the week, ben decides to take matters into his own hands—or, rather, tentacles.

request (by a lovely lovely anon💕): Hi I adore your writing❤️. Can you do a Ben Hargreeves x reader where the reader is restrained in a cell by Reginald and Ben comes and saves the day. Thx

words: 1893

warnings: emotional manipulation (it’s prick of the year reginald hargreeves, what do we expect), imprisonment

a/n: i feel like this one is right shit bc i wasn’t in a really good groove while writing it but ANYWAY please enjoy our bb boy:))))) (also!! empath!reader)

✖️✖️✖️

Dad stands in your doorway, intimidating as always, light glinting off his ever-present monocle. “Number Eight,” he says—crisp, harsh, and clear. “Come with me. Today we have a different form of training for you.”

“Where are we going?” you ask him. He’s not leading you towards the usual training room, and you’re without a partner—something you’ve never trained without due to your empathic abilities.

“Never you mind,” he says bluntly. You sigh, looking down at your feet. Trying to get information out of Dad is unnecessarily difficult sometimes—and you can’t read him as easily as you can your siblings. He’s scarily good at hiding his emotions.

He leads you down a few corridors before pausing and taking a blindfold out of his coat pocket. “Turn around.”

“Why? Where are we going?” You’re a bit worried now. “Turn around, Number Eight,” he repeats, harsher this time. “I do not have time for your questions.” You’ve got no choice, so you do as he says. The blindfold is tight—a bit too much so, but you know it’s pointless to bring it up. The two of you walk in silence for several minutes—you don’t think you’ve left the house, but your steps haven’t followed a route you’re familiar with. The Academy is big, though—maybe you’ve misjudged and you’re really just being led in circles to confuse you. Dad’s voice cuts through your thoughts, telling you to watch your step. You carefully move into some sort of space, confused as to why you’ve stopped. His hands come up to the nape of your neck, untying the blindfold from around your eyes. The fabric drops away to reveal a dark, metallic room with no furnishings. You’ve never seen it before or heard Dad talk about it—it almost looks like some sort of prison, and anxiety begins to push up into your chest. “Uh, Dad? Where are we?” you ask, fear making its way into your voice. You silently curse yourself for it—Dad hates any display of weakness. He doesn’t answer, instead busying himself with a huge hydraulic lock on the outside of the door. This does nothing to help your growing panic. “Dad?” you ask a few more times, voice rising with each repetition. “Dad!” “You will stay here until I let you out.” He finally answers, still not looking at you. “Goodbye, Number Eight.” He steps out of the chamber, locks hissing as the door seals itself behind him. Your brain enters full-blown panic, and you bang on the door, screaming for him to come back. You no longer care about showing weakness—tears spill over your cheeks as Dad’s back fades away and your banging grows weaker and weaker. When your voice gets too hoarse to yell and you’re convinced no one can hear you, you sink to the ground in a miserable heap. After a few minutes of crying, you sit up weakly and attempt to clear your head. You’ve never seen this chamber or the hallway it’s situated in before, but it logically has to be within the Academy somewhere. Maybe it’s underground or in a wing you’ve never been allowed access to? You instinctively close your eyes, reaching out to see if you can pick up on anyone’s emotions. Usually, you can sense your siblings from across the house, but the impenetrable walls of your cell and your admittedly less-than-functional mental state don’t help your case. You give up after a few minutes of mental searching and rest your forehead against the cold metal of one of the walls. And, since you have literally nothing else to do, you think. Clearly, this is one of Dad’s experiments—probably not too far off from when he’d lock Klaus in the mausoleum or when he’d throw dangerous weapons at Diego to see if he could save himself. They historically haven’t gone so well, as both siblings have ended up scarred—Klaus emotionally and Diego physically. You’re a bit worried as to what he has in store for you, but you’re not about to let yourself get hurt if you can help it. It’s likely that Dad’s locked you up to see how your abilities react to not being around people and their constantly-changing emotions. Maybe he thinks you’ll wither away. Perhaps it’s the opposite, and he’s examining the possibility of you tapping into your own feelings. Whatever the case may be, you resolve to try and remain as positive as you can about the situation, so you push down your fear and focus on happier things. Inevitably, almost embarrassingly, your thoughts roam to Ben. He’s the quietest of your siblings, always nose-deep in a book or sitting in silent contemplation. Despite his antisocial nature, the two of you have formed a close bond over the years. You find the contrast of his visceral power with his shy nature interesting, and he’s been perfectly content to sit and listen to you babble away about everything and nothing.

There’s also the fact that the two of you usually get paired together for training, since you can’t read him as easily as you can your other siblings. Dad says it’s likely because of the alien presence underneath his skin—the tendrils block his human presence somehow. And so, to create the biggest challenge for you, Dad’s made you spend hours on end with Ben, studying what feelings you can discern in order to strengthen your abilities. While some would become frustrated by the lack of ease you’ve experienced, it only eggs you on. You find Ben absolutely fascinating—a feeling that’s deepened over the years until you’ve come to accept the fact that you’re crushing on him, hard. Despite wearing your heart on your sleeve at all times, you’ve desperately tried to keep your feelings hidden—you can’t have any way of knowing if he returns those feelings, and your embarrassment would be supreme if he found out and didn’t feel the same.

Your cheeks heat up as your mind drifts to his jet-black hair, fine features, and adorably shy nature. There’s nothing better to do, so you let your mind spin scenarios of the two of you together—holding hands, going on small dates, cuddling on the couch. The thoughts stir a fluttering warmth in your chest that makes your present circumstances slightly more bearable. You hardly notice your breaths evening out and your eyelids blinking slower and slower as you daydream away.

You start awake an indeterminate amount of time later. You can’t remember falling asleep, and you have absolutely no way of knowing how much time has passed since Dad locked you up. Your crooked perception of time pales, however, to your all-consuming thirst. There’s no compartments or nooks anywhere that could be hiding a water supply—just smooth metal walls. Sinking back against the door, you try your hardest not to think about the dryness in your throat crying out to be lessened.

You judge it to be a few hours later when you see movement out of the corner of your eye. Instantly, you sit up, hoping it’s Dad come to let you free—but what you see instead is a million times better.

Ben’s sprinting down the hallway leading to your cell, face overtaken with concern. When he gets close enough to see you, he visibly softens. He tries to say something, but the thick hydraulic door blurs his words together. You shrug, pointing to your ears and shaking your head. He tries again, pointing to you with questioning eyes. You okay?

You nod, secretly thinking yes, now that you’re here. His brows are still knit together with worry, so you smile to reassure him that you really are okay. His eyes roam over your face for a few moments before he blinks and takes a step back, motioning for you to do the same. You’re not sure what he’s going to do, but you trust him completely.

He doubles down on himself before flailing his limbs out and arching his back. His tentacles erupt out of his stomach, lashing out and latching onto the huge handle of your cell door. The metal and glass shriek at the new pressure before slowly but surely bending from the force of Ben’s attack. When they’re broken enough to satisfy him, his tentacles retract and he scrambles forward to open the door separating the two of you.

As soon as you can slip through the door, you rush into his arms, wrapping him in a fierce hug. He hesitates for the briefest moment before returning the embrace. After being by yourself for so long, his arms feel so good around you, and your heart leaps in your chest as you catch a whiff of his smell—comforting and exciting all at once. Even though you could stay right here in his arms forever, you pull away slightly after several moments.

“How’d you know I was here?” you ask, grinning at the look of relief on Ben’s face.

“I thought it was weird when Dad didn’t schedule me to train with you like we usually would. No one knew where you went, so after a few hours, I decided to try and find you. Earlier I saw Dad coming out of a doorway I’d never seen anyone use before, so I used that as my starting place and, well—he’s got a bunch of charts monitoring how you’re doing. I knew I was in the right place. I’m just glad you’re okay,” he says, voice getting quieter. “I was really worried.”

“We’ve been through worse,” you laugh, but his eyes don’t brighten at your joke.

“This is different, though,” he answers, voice rising again in anger. “He literally locked you up, I mean—that’s actually insane. No father should ever do that to their child.”

“I’m sure he means well,” you say weakly, but you both know it’s not true. Dad really only cares about himself. There’s a beat, then Ben speaks again.

“You sure you’re all right?” His eyes are sad and searching as they look into yours.

Summoning your courage, you say, “I am now that you’re here.” Ben’s eyes widen immediately, scanning your face almost hopefully. The corners of his mouth tilt up slowly, almost hesitantly—as if he’s afraid to let himself go completely.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t,” he breathes, and you notice that the distance between the two of you is narrowing. Just a few more inches and your foreheads would be touching—and so you take it upon yourself to both reassure and thank Ben in one motion. You tilt your head forward and gently press your lips to his.

His breath hitches at the contact, body freezing for the briefest of moments before his hands come up to cup your jaw. You smile and whisper a thank you against his lips before drawing back a fraction. Ben’s eyes are slow to open, and his cheeks are flushed when they finally do, gazing at you with so much half-lidded admiration your heart swells. You press a soft kiss to his cheek, and you don’t need your powers to tell you that somehow, Ben is just as smitten with you as you are with him.

And when the two of you are given an inevitable harsh scolding in Dad’s office, you can’t bring yourself to care much—you’re too focused on how Ben’s fingers are laced gently around yours.

[twisted-imagines]

I really loved your headcannons for sfw and nsfw headcannons for savanaclaw!! I had to stop reading it a couple times bc things got steamy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). May I request a scenario of octavinelle with MC and and the guys taking a bath together, it can be both sfw and nsfw (*^ω^*)

Woohoo! Right, that's what I was counting on😋 Thank you very much! I hope I caught your intention the right way because I read it like a bath together will all the boys at the same time 😏 You shouldn't have been worried, because there's also a hc ask, but thank you anyway~ So here it is, the smuttiest scenario I've ever written and headcanons for each character separately. Those are mostly sfw, maybe not as fluffy as you wanted, but I tried;

Please remember to use protection, leave your comments and enjoy yourself💗

Bath time with Octavinelle trio 🐙🐬🦈

Deep breathe in and breathe out. Your heartbeat was slowly returning to its usual pace. Finally, the hunt was over, Bean's Day a total success, mostly. Maybe it would have been even better if the competitive atmosphere didn't get to you in the middle of it and rendered you a useless, anxious mess. You were glad Leech twins calmed you down then and took care of you for the end of the event. Perhaps those types of games weren't meant for you.

Resting in the pleasant shadow of the forest's margin while waiting for Azul, you could see how hard they have worked. The way Jade was frowning and sighing heavily from time to time with Floyd just lying near him on the ground whining, not on top of his game anymore. When the white-haired man finally separated from the crowd you got up to wave in hopes of him noticing you. He spotted you quite fast and strode into your direction.

"Good job today, all of you. You gave the monster team quite a challenge, isn't that right, guys?"

The Octavinelle dorm leader's speech was flawless as usual, not betraying the bitterness from his earlier encounters and the adrenaline still present in his system. It was obvious, the facade he was putting on. You learned to see past it, after spending so much time with the boys. To you, their inner selves were much more interesting. You couldn't help but smile to yourself. The year promised to be the most vivid you've had yet if they continued to be the constant presence in your everyday life, those boys.

"Oh, aren't you spacing out, [Name]?"

"Right, right~ Pay attention to meee~"

Voices from both of your sides belonged to none other than the two brothers. You snapped back to reality. Floyd was now hanging off of your right arm, a quite usual occurrence you had to note, and his twin was closely observing your face. A slightly annoyed sight escaped Azul. All the running around was finally taking its toll on him, he looked weary and tired. It seemed even talking was too much for him at the moment, something which was not like him at all.

"The main event is over, but the closing ceremony will be conducted in two hours. We have just enough time to wash up, change, and rest for a bit. We're going to the dorm right now, you're coming with us, aren't you?"

It didn't feel like a question or invitation if anything more like a concealed order, but you nodded anyway. Spending the time in their company was always bringing up your mood and did they love to see you smile happily like that.

"Yay! Bath with koebi-chan! So fun~"

Hm? What was that again? When you looked at Floyd he was already was ahead of you walking with Azul, and even Jade turned away from you when you tried to ask what was going on. Was there anything you were missing?

At the Octavinelle dormitory, you were led to a spacious room, one you had never visited before.

"It was previously used by the residents as one of the dorm's conveniences. It didn't suit us, so for doing a complete renovation of this place, only the dorm leader can now allow to use it."

"And of course Azul doesn't let anybody here, except for us, hehe~"

You listened to Azul's explanation with the occasional remarks from Floyd about how that enormous parlor with a hot tub of the size of the pool was now completely off the limits for regular Octavinelle students. The interior made you think that you entered some underwater cave, it gave off an otherworldly aura. It was a simply wonderful resort. You could only look around and once again realize just how cunning and inventive those boys could be. You felt a warm presence on your shoulder, only to find Jade standing close to you with a usual charming smile playing on his lips.

"I shall show you to the changing room. There's also a shower, but don't take long. After all the main attraction is right here."

The adjacent room wasn't as big, but it had enough place for the four you. The setting minimalistic, the only furniture was a sofa and hangers with few dressers. You could see the shower on your right. Jade's gentle grip remained on you for a fleeting moment you were observing the room before he moved away. While you were contemplating your disposition, Floyd was already casually ditching his sports clothes. You gaped at the sight unfolding.

"Hm? Is something wrong, my dear? If you have some problems, I'll be happy to assist you."

Azul's voice had the most genuine concern in it but you knew better than that. "It's all preplanned", - was reading in his eyes. Wrong? Of course, nothing was wrong in how he languidly unfastened the belts on his uniform, in the sinful grace with which he was doing it. His azure orbs were unmoving, hypnotizing you with their gaze.

"No need... I was just thinking about how fitting those clothes actually are."

Trying to escape from the whirlpool the man was trying to take you in, your eyes darted in the opposite direction, accidentally falling on Jade's rear, still clad in those skintight pants. The merman's cheeks turned pink, not missing your action, slightly misjudging it even. Daring not to make eye contact, you swiftly occupied yourself with the task of undressing.

You could finally let out a sigh of relief, having fully submerged yourself into the hot water of the pool, generosity of Azul, who prepared it. You closed your eyes and tried to enjoy the calming aroma, the steam curling, and caressing your face, but the unyielding ogling of pairs of eyes was unnerving. You were not escaping out of this, you understood.

You could feel him ripple through the water, his hands enveloping your waist. It was the sight of Floyd looking up at you with a placid smile that welcomed you. He was resting on your knees, drops of water cascading down his face. He was still. For now.

"So?~ Pretty sick, land's "jacuzzi", won'tcha say?"

His effervescent voice echoed in the room, disturbing the quiet noise of popping bubbles. You stretched your hand to place in on his face only for it to be immediately trapped in his grasp. His token toothy smile slowly returned to his face. The temperature was rising. More and more closer Floyd was moving to you until two strong hands finally trapped you between his body and pool's side. Red against your skin, his tongue traced a way from your neck to jaw. Your breathing was now much more rugged than before.

"Tasty little koebi-chan~ You have no right to look so delicious-"

A bite followed. Floyd had successfully learned all your most sensitive spots and played them smartly even now. You could no longer keep your moans to yourself. The sweet noise spurred into action two other occupants of the room, who too longed for some attention.

"How greedy of you to steal [Name] all to yourself, brother. I too want a taste."

"You guys are not the only ones in the room. How annoying..."

In your peripheral vision, you could see them move closer until you felt your arm and leg being seized on each side. You were rendered immobile, each boy molding your body into the desired pose.

"Tsch~You two can get lost, for all I care."

Saying that in low voice, almost dropping down to a growl, Floyd was relentless in his task of forcing moans out of you, your already heated body unable to resist the pleasure he was giving you. You whined when his hand dropped down to your core, aching for more stimulation. Teasing and gliding, tension fluctuating, it was driving you crazy. When he decided that it wasn't enough for him anymore, Floyd dragged you out and hoisted on the cold surface outside of the pool. The difference in temperatures and his moist fingers plunging into your hole made you wail on top of your lungs. Your body was burning up and shivering from cold at the same time, wringing in his firm grip was just spurring you further into an igneous frenzy. Your vision blurry with water dripping down your face, or were those tears of pleasure, you were no longer the master to your body. The man before you controlled your every breath, every moan, his own form partly morphing to merman's.

White bliss overtook your mind when he sharply thrust into you. It wasn't gentle, at all, but it was precisely what you wanted, what you accustomed to, and welcomed with your very own thrusts back. Floyd's fast tenacious jerks were working you into an even more nonsensical state, the weight of his body on top of yours was superseding all your thoughts with flaming hot want. The lack of free air in the steamy room was affecting you, making you light-headed. The man rocking into you with immense strength was now your only leverage in the hazy world you were residing in at that moment. Continuing to bite and mark you up, his movements became even more erratic hinting at how close your lover was. You felt it building, the imminent release, when it finally crashed down upon you. Your last scream Floyd too claimed as his own, capturing your lips in his in a messy kiss, continuing to languidly trust up into you, riding out your orgasms.

While you were regaining your consciousness, a cacophony of hisses and screams, clearly somebody bickering, was the only thing you could hear besides the low buzz in your head. They stopped abruptly, a moment of calmness took place. You could register a shadow looming over you. A warm, somewhat slippery hand caressed your hot cheek. You couldn't help but lean more into a comforting touch.

"Barbarian-! My dear, are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Just thoroughly fucked~♡"

The harsh smack ringed through the room, most likely not reaching its destination. Azul's attention returned to you, the man carefully cradled you to himself, when you felt some smooth appendages slithering around your body. You reasoned, that just like the eel merman, cecaelia had also accidentally sprouted some of his octopus-like features. While Azul most certainly still stood on his two legs before you, a few tentacles, deep purple and supple, coiled around you gently, but firmly. He won't be releasing you just like that, will he?

"I'm fine Azul, don't worry."

""... I'm ready to be fucked again, go for it~" Ahaha- Auch!"

Another smack and Floyd's yelp now following it. Serves him well, mocking you like that. You drew the octopus merman closer to you and kissed softly in a reassuring gesture.

"Everybody did a good job today, only fair to have some recreational moment together. Come here."

Azul's blush only deepened from your bold invitation. He was being seduced and he had no objections to that. How jealous he had been, observing how his friend was selfishly claiming you. He could now be the one to touch and explore your soft, heated body. The thought of it made him immensely happy. The dorm leader didn't get to spend some time with you today, given you were on the opposite teams, so right at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to have you close to him, sighing languorously.

When you finally regained control over your limbs, you made the man release you so you could sit on him instead. The ell's rough loving still panged in your rear duly, but Azul soft moans and the sight of his sweet red cheeks aroused you too hard to ignore your cravings. Strong tentacles once again twisted around you, the young man was drawing you closer still, skin to skin contact was putting him to a state akin to trance, the need to have more of you, of your scent, your taste, your love overwhelmed him. You placed open-mouthed kisses down his neck and jugular, moving lower with each kiss and hickey until you reached the soft flesh of his chest. Azul was practically melting under you, pleasure clouding his mind. It was so long you made love to him, he missed the tender moments so much and here you finally were, on his lap, teasing his hardened nipples, eliciting more sweet noises out of him.

A loud sob broke out of him when you descended down on his hard cock. Swiftly encompassing your legs in a vice-like grip, his tentacles vehemently squeezing you like ivy. You could feel his suckers sticking to you, sure to leave numerous marks for you to discover later. The faster you started to move, the more vocal Azul became, his pleasured noises reverberating in the room. Desperate for more, he started to thrust up into you from his position bellow, but too shallow from being completely bewildered by the tightness of your hole. While you were desperately chasing your high, relishing in Azul's sexy expressions, eagerly kissing them away, you felt two hands reach out for your chest from behind. Jade was there flushed and needy, but the man made no other moves except for lightly twisting your nipple, aiding your second orgasm for that day, while his other hand was busy with his jerking himself off. It took just a few more thrusts for both you and Azul to reach your climax, with each other's names on your lips. The hot liquid that stained both your walls and back, was the evidence of the two men's release. Satisfied, but completely worn out by your lovers, you slowly drifted away to a dark bottomless pit of unconsciousness.

When you woke up you found yourself on the same couch you saw in the changing room, this realization coming to you a few moments later that the memories of your previous activities.

"Oh, you're finally awake. How do feel? Does it hurt especially bad somewhere?"

Jade's questions nearly missed you as their addressee, for you were slowly coming back to your senses, which also meant facing the excruciating consequences of your supposed relaxation time.

"I can't feel my legs at all. Was I out for long?"

"Not that long. I had just enough time to carry you there and run for a few things, like a transformation potion, because those bumpkins got so excited they turned to their original form."

"I genuinely don't know how that happened. [Name], I'm deeply sorry."

Azul's remorseful voice drew your attention to him and Floyd standing near the door, in their human forms, already dressed in their uniforms. Jade was wiping your body with wet cloth in the meantime, carefully inspecting your body for marks and other "love confessions".

"You have nothing to feel sorry about, I enjoyed it very much. But it seems I won't go anywhere with you today anymore."

"Indeed, doesn't seem like [Name] will be able to visit the closing ceremony. Don't worry I'll stay here with you."

Jade addressed Azul and you in turns, gentle smile was playing on his lips. Reassuring you that you will be in caring hands the man lovingly pecked your cheek.

"Heeeeh~ You want just want some alone time with koebi-chan, don'tcha, Jade?“

Floyd who was silent before neared his brother with a mischievous grin.

"Not quite right, I surely exercise more control of myself than to prey on defenseless and fatigued [Name] like that. Not to mention, I already got my share earlier today. Motivational supplies were just the best."

Jade retorted with a wicked smile of his own, showing his razor-sharp teeth in this rare instance. His twin could only blink in confusion, not ready for such a twist.

"So you were ahead of us this whole time, Jade? It's also quite unexpected from you, my dear [Name], but I'm not in the position to complain. Please rest up and restore your power, we'll go and come back."

Azul came close to you and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Love you very much."

He added in a quiet voice before he left the room to prepare for the last event of the day. Before Floyd could follow him out, he ran up to you to briskly kiss you on the lips and say his own goodbye:

"Koebi-chan is always so fun to play with, it's too hard to stop sometimes. Be a good little one and relax. Don't get lonely, I'll come soon, 'kay?~"

Bathing headcanons(SFW/slightly NSFW)

Azul Ashengrotto 🐙

• Very diligent about his bathing and grooming routine, Azul takes shower at least once a day. To be a successful businessman one needs to take care of himself and his looks and the dorm leader doesn't slack off on it. Not to mention, he loves water and misses the ocean and how freely he could move in it. The land's shower is just a small gateway to dull his nostalgia.

• His personal care products mostly smell of some fruit or flower. It's the type of smell that makes you want to just inhale it over and over, maybe just nibble on his skin a bit, flustering poor octopi.

• Maybe sweet smells don't exactly tie in with the image of the powerful, all-mighty magician he works hard to uphold, but practice shows different results. He smells pleasant, relaxing, like somebody who you would gladly entrust your unique magic or valuable possession. How can a guy with such a sincere smile and the air of the flower field in spring around him be threatening? Azul may have lost all of his contracts, but he steadily grows his collection anew, more determined than ever.

• It takes him a lifetime to confess that he wants to shower with you, much faster is just to invite him yourself. You can sense just how eager he is, but the thought of you seeing him naked, and vice versa makes him too shy. Just grab him and take with you, he won't protest much. He helps you to wash your back and hair, loving every second of it. And when you rub him back and massage his body, any and every insecure thought just evaporates, leaving only raw and vulnerable Azul starved for tender touches and appreciative words. When you stay with him, Azul always subtly suggests having a shower together, blushing profusely each and every time. He doesn't even think about doing anything sexual, just washing each other is already intimate enough practice for him.

• He took a habit to always rub and massage your back, be it in the bath or shower, he too finds enjoyment, especially when he hears you sigh in approval or relax into him. Azul would love to receive the same gentle treatment but to his head. With the amount of mental work he does daily he's not a stranger to migraines anymore. But somehow, when when you rub and massage his scalp the annoying pain goes away. He jokingly complains that you've never told him you could use a magic like that, but he's grateful nonetheless.

• Baths are a whole event for him. He's the type to place aroma candles everywhere, throw in a beautiful bath bomb and bring a glass of his preferred drink. And you, of course, his dear lover. Now everything is set for the perfect evening with you, his most favorite person, by his side.

•❗ No action in water unless it's a big enough place for you to safely attempt anything in there. And definitely not the shower, not in a lifetime. He's not strong enough to support you, and he's still adjusting to walking on legs. And it's much more exciting to tease him until he practically begs you to take him right away, only to make him wait for when you're out of dangerous grounds of the shower.

Jade Leech 🐬

• Not as disciplined as his dorm's leader, Jade still makes sure to take a shower once every few days, he has to look presentable and smart as a vice dorm leader himself.

• He smells like the sea breath, very fresh and subtle, not enough to make him stand out, but special enough to understand that this guy is not an ordinary one.

• it's somewhat of his fantasy to take a shower with you. You and water? The perfect combination. It would be a one morning when you stayed at his room, that Jade would tell you, blushing, that he was going to shower and wouldn't mind if you joined him. He would go ahead, not really hoping that you will follow him until he feels a kiss on his shoulder and hands enveloping. Didn't take him too long to understand who just decided to join him, Jade smiling happily at that.

• He wants to wash you, take care of your every body part. If you insist that you can do it yourself or shy away from him he'll tease you and still continue to do his thing. He pampers you to the fullest, just about everything is taken care of. He loves to feel your skin, to see how water streams down your body. If you two are in a rush, Jade won't relent, but he'll be grateful if you wash him in return.

• Baths are also nice in Jade's mind, but he'll take one exclusively if he is exhausted or is promised to have you with him in it. It'll take some bending and working around with it, this man is too tall for most baths. He'll casually hug you while you two relax and enjoy each other's company.

•❗He's pretty open to bathtub sex, Jade thinks that your wet, flushed body is one of the most erotic sights he's ever seen. There he was, thinking you couldn't get even hotter, but he can't keep his hands off of you now, please take responsibility. Still not safe to fool around in the shower, but at least you tried. It wasn't half bad, but Jade confessed later that it was too stressing - he's not willing to risk your health like that anymore.

Floyd Leech 🦈

• He's like a small child when it comes to bathing. It's too bothersome, he doesn't stink, what's the problem. It's a damn war, when Jade tries to stick him in a shower or a bathtub, because a certain furious octopus, hard bend on self-grooming, ordered to have Floyd showered one way or another. The catch is, as soon as he's in water, he's the calmest angel ever. He'll spend there as much time as his human body allows him. Generally, it's twice a week, but he goes to shower willingly after each PE class, he hates the stench of sweat even more.

• He doesn't smell like anything, at best you can smell a candy he ate just recently. He despises strong smells. If he's forced to shower with such shower gel or shampoo he'll be furious and snappy the whole time until it wears off. If he can smell it, it's bad and makes his skin crawl, annoying him to no end. He feels like biting himself, and he doesn't like it. On you, however, he prefers tasty, yummy smells, since he can take a bite no problem.

• The one who accidentally buys a juice-like bottle of some gel and gets a poisoning. "But it looked so edible~", he's banned by Jade and Azul now from any sections of the store, where there can be any chemicals in "misleading" covers.

• Actually baths are his favorite! Cue him clinging to you and just freeze there. He's enjoying it so much. At best you just sit there in his embrace, until the water becomes too cold for his liking, but other times he reverts back to his merman appearance and now he's all over you and you can't breathe properly. He's not oblivious thought, when he deems that he's teased you enough he'll release you. Your reactions are just the best, he can't get enough of them.

• One time he slipped into your shower and just grabbed a handful of your tight and thought it was the funniest thing ever, while you nearly went into cardiac arrest when somebody in all-boys dorm touched you out of nowhere. But who else could have it been, if not your capricious boyfriend. Now, Floyd is suddenly all about going to shower each day, of course dragging you with him. He doesn't even shower, he just stands under the water and squeezes you, ultimately not giving you the chance to clean neither you nor him. It takes colossal efforts, to make him scrub his body, but he still doesn't leave your side.

• ❗By far the most dangerous to have shower sex with, but also the most exciting. Does it stop you? Mostly. Him? Never. He always looks forward to when you inevitably get frisky. Floyd will edge you till the point of crying, have you begging for him to fuck you. He also has enough strength to pick you up and ram into you, or he'll just turn you around and press himself behind setting a fast pace right away.

[johnismyreason]

Hell on Earth (TWO) // KOH!TOMHOLLAND X HUMAN!READER

Summary: Tom, Prince of Hell and only heir to the throne, is sent to Earth by his parents as a punishment. He ends up in an odd city full of the worst humans, except one, who, despite not knowing who he truly is, decides to help him.

Note: Well, well, well... It’s been a while. I’m sorry but a lot of things happen and honestly I wasn’t in the mood to write anything. Anyways, I hope I didn’t loose everyone was reading the first part of this Koh!Tom series. Let me know what you thought and if you have ideas for next chapters. And send me an ask to be added to the taglist :) Love you ! 

words: 2.3k

Warnings: panic attack, cursing, fluff-ish?, bad english bc im french 

First part

Tom was so nervous. How the hell was he going to tell you where he is from. He doesn’t have much time to think about it, since you seat in front of him. “Here you go” you said, placing the tuna sandwich and a cup of coffee before his hands. Seating down, you create a slight draft, giving Tom the chance to breath your smell. Honey and apple. Not too sugary, not too strong but present enough to be under your spell for a spilt second. 

“Thank you” Tom said taking a bite in the sandwich. The taste of tuna on his tongue repulses him but he fakes a smile “’S really good” he lied his mouth full, before swallowing with a hard gulp. 

“I’m glad you like it” you smile back laying down a bit, your elbow on the table and your hand in a fist holding your chin. “So... what’s going on, Tom ?” the sound of his name on your lips makes it hard for him to concentrate. It almost sounds like a prayer or a blessing, instead of the curse he always heard when his father called him. 

“Right,” closing his eyes and shaking his head, Tom tried to regain his composure “Um, here’s the thing. I don’t have anywhere to go. My parents kind of kicked me out” You blinked a few times trying to process what he just said. You’re surprised and shocked, you didn’t expect that at all. 

“What ? W-why ?” you let your hand that was supporting your head, fall on the table, a few inches from his. 

“Uh...” now is the tricky part. Tom has to think fast but coherent. "I was not the best son” he confessed. By the confused look on your face, the prince of Hell understood that it wasn’t enough of an explanation “I- uh. I didn’t take my responsibilities seriously and partied too much. So I fucked up everything.” Tom felt shame thinking about the look on his parents’ faces before being banned. “Basically, if I want to come back home, I have to change. Like, everything about me must be changed” Tom let his head fall forward, to avoid your gaze. 

His head snapped back up when he felt your reassuring hand on his wrist, the veins of his heart loosened at the sight of your compassionate smile. 

“I’m sure not everything is good to put in the bin” you said softly. 

“How would you know ?” Tom almost whispered. “You don’t know me”

“I can see it. The good.” you replied pointing at his heart. “You’re just lost. You’ve done some mistakes, what about it ? A few of them doesn’t make you a bad person. We're not perfect. We’re just humans after all.”

“I’m not-” Tom cut himself from dropping his secret. But it hit him. We’re all humans. He’s human now. The loss of his powers, the bangs in his head after drinking the whole night away,... His parents made him human. Suddenly, Tom feels a rush of panic invading him. He starts looking around nervously, his palms become clammy and his madness takes control. Fuck, is what being human feels like ? Feeling weak and pathetic ? Succumbing to the unreasonable and to our every perfidious feelings ? 

“Tom ?” you brung him back, your eyebrows furrowed. “Is everything ok ?” 

The young boy’s wide opened eyes stare at you, scrutinising every detail of your face. Every stain, every barely formed line and indentation, every curve. Everything and anything that makes you... human. 

“No.” he blurbed out, by freeing himself from your hand, which until now had reassured him but now made him feel like a prisoner. “I gotta go...” and with that, Tom stood up abruptly and left the coffee shop. 

“Tom wait !” you tried to stop him, but he’s fast. 

Tom sets off into the city, looking for a way home at all costs, even though he knows it's impossible. He bumps into things and people who then insult him for not paying attention without apologizing. He wants to cross the street and run away. He gets off the pavement and takes two steps when a van runs into him. Surprised, Tom holds still until a hand grabs his arm and pulls him back, causing him to fall with the person who saved him. It was you. Is she always going to save my life like that ?

Lying next to each other and trying to come to your senses, your breasts rise and fall in rhythm with your twin breaths. You turn your head towards him, the asphalt slightly scratching your scalp. His face is still tense but it hasn't changed. He is still beautiful, elegant, almost mischievous. His curls fall backwards against the ground and you notice the touch of red in his reflections. My God, how beautiful he is.

“Do you often have panic attacks ?” Tom's face gradually relaxes at the sound of your voice. But what frees him from the anxiety monster inside of him, is your laughter. Your sweet giggle. He almost killed you both, but you're laughing. Lying on the floor in the filthy street next to him. 

“I’m so sorry...” 

“Don’t be” you replied getting up. You then hold your hand for him to take it. “Come on, let’s go home” you smiled, putting the almost tragic incident that just happened behind you. Tom takes your hand and pushes himself off the ground with your help. 

“Home ?” he asked confused without letting your hand go.

“Yeah, I mean at my place. You’re going to live there until you... um... change.” you pressed your lips in a tight but friendly smile accompanied by a small puff. That’s when he doesn’t understand anymore. 

“Why are you doing this for me ?” he asks sinking in the back of his chair. “You don’t know me, I could be a sociopath !” or the prince of Hell. 

“Well, First of all I don’t think that sociopaths know they are socipaths. And when they do, I also don’t think it’s something they want to scream everywhere.” you replied standing in front of him, your fists of your hips. “And two: It’s you who came to my shop and ask for my help. And it’s not like you have somewhere to crash, don’t you ?” you titled your head to the side as if you were playfully challenging him. Tom grinned a little, trying to hide his hint of embarrassment  “But if you prefer, we can always find you a piece of cardboard that we will set you up in a not too badly famed alleyway, you'll love it, it’s-”

“Ok, alright you won !” Tom cut you placing his palms in defeat. “Hell, are you always like that ?” he chuckled. You just smiled cheekily and shrugged your shoulders. You took his arm and started walking. 

You didn’t live far from the bakery, only 10 minutes walking, which was very pratical since, before going to the bakery, you followed classes at university and had to go change at your place before going to work. You led Tom to your appartment. The building was far from the ivory towers in which Tom had grown up. Yours was much more dilapidated, with a cold cigarette smell in the stairwell that you asked him not to pay attention to. Ms. McDougall had never learned good manners, and enjoyed smoking in the small lobby. 

After going up the three floors without a lift, of course, you stop in front of the door of your flat to open it. “I wasn’t expecting someone today, so please forgive me for the old tea cups in the kitchen... and the living. And probably in the bathroom.”

“The bathroom ?” repeated Tom. 

“Yeah. Don’t ask. I don’t have any excuse” you chuckled finding your keays at the bottom of your bag. “Ok. Here you go !” you invited him in with your arm extended so he can enter first. Tom thanked you before walking in, discovering your small but cozy place. 

There was a main room which served as kitchen, dining room and living room. The black sofa in front of the television looked comfortable and could be folded out to make a bed. There was also a coffee table with books for the university, the remote control, chocolates, a cherry blossom scented candle and two mugs. A garland of light framed the window overlooking the street. The neighbourhood was not pretty, but at least it was quiet. Just like the flat which was very cozy. Tom already felt good there. 

You took off your jacket and your bag and started to tidy up the room quickly. Tom looked at you with an amused smile. He looked how a few strands of hair fell on your face as you pick up the mugs out of the table and put them in the sink; and how your hands worked quickly to collect your books. 

“What do you study ?” Tom asked pointing to your books that you held close to your chest. 

“I am studying to become a nurse” you responded with a soft smile. “My finals are in three weeks.” 

“Oh, that’s a noble job” said Tom, immediatly regreting sounding condescendin. “I mean, it’s a great one ! Better than selling sandwiches and croissants.” When he saw your lips thightening and your eyes squinting, he held his hands in front of you, trying to catch back his mistake “No, I mean, working in a bakery is great, it’s just... being a nurse is better for you !” 

“How would you know what’s better for me ?” you teased. Tom felt his palms sweating and his cheeks redenning. You got him. 

Why does he react like that ? He was prince of Hell, and soon - hopefully - king, for fuck’s sake ! He’s used to people being affraid of him and his powers. Used to spill his venom on any creature, human or not, using harsh, insulting and degrading names, without the shadow of an ounce of embarrassment. That's what he did. To be the cursed prince of Hell. The beloved child of death and eternal torture. 

But with you it’s different. You are different. He feels deeply in his soul, that he would never use these words on you. You had a force on him that he couldn’t explain. 

“I-I... I don’t, yeah you’re right. Sorry, I didn’t want to-” he stopped when he heard your light giggle. 

“Tom, I was joking. I understood what you meant, I just wanted to mess you with. Selling sandwiches is great but it isn’t my professional perspective. Sorry for making you uncomfortable, that was dumb.”

“No, no, no ! It’s fine. It’s just a joke.” he puffed. What ?! In Hell, he would have sent the fool who dared messing up with him, in the worst session of torture of his entire eternity. 

You smiled to him before heading to your bedroom, throwing your books on your bed. You came back with a blanket and a very soft looking pillow. You then walked to the bathroom with a new toothbrush and clean towel. 

“My brother lived here for a while a couple of years ago and left clothes. You can take whatever you want, he’s not gonna come back.” 

“Where is he now ?” you felt a hiver running through your body at the thought of him. 

“I don’t know. Aaron never felt like he belongged in this society, that he had nothing to bring to the community. So he wanted to join the army. They know how to talk to kids who feel like him. Telling them that their lives will save thousands of others. I told him it would be the biggest mistake of his life, that he’s smart and talented but he didn’t want to hear anything. So he left one day, and I never saw him again.” It was the first time you talked about your brother in two years. You felt tears threatening to fall. “I don’t even know if he’s still alive.” you choked on the last word, unable to bear the very idea that he may no longer be of this world. 

Tom looked at you not knowing what to do. He tried to remember an Aaron who would have gone to hell. The Prince has the ability to know all the deaths that fall and the division of souls between heaven and hell. This means that he knows every name, story and sin that enters his kingdom. Unfortunately, without his powers on Earth, he cannot know whether his brother is alive or not. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he murmured before clearing his throat. “I’m sure he’ll come back one day.” You raised your head with a heart-rending smile, trying hard to hide your pain. 

“He’s in the past now. Let’s talk about something else.” You entered the kitchen, looking for something to eat, but you forgot to go to the grocery store today. Well, you didn’t really forgot, your plans just... changed a bit. “Um... I have nothing in my fridge and clearly I don’t want to grocery shopping right now, so is chinese take away is fine with you ?” 

“Perfect !” He never ate chinese food. 

“Great ! I’ll just call my favorite place after taking a shower” you said walking backwards to your bathroom. 

When Tom heard the water running, he fell on the couch dramtically. His legs spread and his right hand on his forhand he stared into the void, trying to process what happened those two last days. Him being banned from Hell for an indefinite period almost dead two times on the road, loosing his powers, and ending up living in an girl’s appartment. Tom sighed loudly, wondering how all of this could happen to the fucking prince of Hell. 

And now what ? 

________________________________________________________________

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send me an ask to be added to the taglist :) 

[hawkbucks]

is- is that royal aus post some ask prompt thing? bc if so I would just die for some of that muse playboy tony and instructor bucky au please say yes 🥺🥺🥺 also I love your aus so much!!!

It’s James’ job to notice the little things. Little openings, little hesitations, little mistakes, all those could mean the difference between carrying on in battle or being run through with a sword, and considering that his pupil is none other than Antonio Stark, heir to the Stark throne, Muse of the Valley, Ever-Ethereal, the Golden Heart, and 6 other superfluous, flowery titles, he would really rather like it if Antonio weren’t impaled on a blade should he have to partake in any conflict. 

It’s James’ job to notice the little things. That’s why he can see the way Antonio oh-so-subtly sticks out his backside whenever he approaches. He can see the way Antonio looks up at him through his lashes, fluttering them coyly. He can see the way Antonio chews on his bottom lip, leaving it bright red and plump and shiny.

(Okay, those aren’t exactly little things--Antonio may as well be shouting his interest across the kingdom--but the point still stands that James notices them.) 

James can see all of that. And he’s not interested. 

(He may be a little interested. Antonio is a beautiful young man; there’s a reason he’s heard many men and many women lamenting the fleeting time they have spent with the young prince, but it would be a major breach of his ethics if he were to get involved with a student of his, no matter their beauty.) 

“I do believe this is the fifth time I’ve had to correct your stance, Your Highness,” James says as he stands behind Antonio, ignoring the way the young Prince presses his back against his chest. “You’re holding your sword far too high.” With a gentle hand, he reaches over and grips Antonio’s forearm, lowering his arm. “Relax your grip. It’s too tight.” 

“Many people have said they like my tight grip,” Antonio disclosed, tone on the lascivious side. 

James scoffs. Heat rises up on his cheeks. He’s glad Antonio isn’t facing him. “I’m sure they have,” he responds, putting as much neutrality into his voice as possible. “Unfortunately for you, your sword doesn’t.” He looks down. “Spread your legs further apart.” 

“How forward of you, Sir Barnes,” Antonio teases as he does so. “Not even an offer of dinner first?” 

“Focus,” James grunts, the heat spreading to his ears. Lord, but he wishes that Antonio was more dutiful, more concerned with his training than unlacing James’ breeches. “I’ll be sparring with you personally today.”

He doesn’t need to see Antonio’s face to know that the man is smiling. 

“Your shirt does not need to be unbuttoned,” James blusters. 

Antonio winks at him, undoing the third button on his shirt. “It makes it easier for me to move, sir Barnes.” His hands fall to his sides, and James can see the way his chest is framed, tan skin a compliment to the madder-dyed fabric. 

James’ throat clicks as he swallows. He bows his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Very well. If you feel like it would help.”

“It will.”

James unsheathes his own sword and tosses it into the air, catching it by the hilt. Cocky. “It won’t.” 

Antonio ends up below him, splayed in the dirt, the tip of James’ sword settling underneath his chin. “Do you not pay attention to anything I teach you?” James asks, affronted and frustrated. “Every move I made could have been easily deflected. If you were more concentrated on your training and not on trying to b--” 

James’ back hits the ground as his feet fly out from under him, eyes going wide. 

Antonio crawls on top of him and straddles his stomach, the edge of his blade pressing against the skin of James’ throat. “Maybe if you were not running your mouth,” he countered before getting up and laughing. “You should see your face.” 

James shakes his head to regain a modicum of composure. “That was a dirty move, Your Highness.” 

“If you really want to see a dirty move, you should join me in my quarters tonight.” 

James sighs heavily. He lets his head hit the dirt. 

“What will it take for you to visit me at night? It is cold when I am by myself,” Antonio whines, draping himself over the back of James’ chair and resting his chin on James’ shoulder. “You are but three summers older.” 

“I’m still your teacher,” James says, taking a bite of his apple. “Three summers or not, you’re still my student.”

“And if I were not your student?” 

James pushes the side of Antonio’s face lightly. “I may consider it.” 

Antonio giggles.

Oh, Lord. 

James’ blissful sleep is so rudely interrupted by knocking at his chamber door. “Sir Barnes?” someone calls out from the other side. He recognizes the voice as belonging to Sir Rhodes, Head Imperial Knight, and one of Antonio’s oldest childhood friends. “His Highness Antonio Stark requests your presence at the training grounds.” 

James scrubs the side of his face with a hand and groans quietly. He squints his eyes, realizing that sun is not even shining through his drapes just yet. “Is His Highness aware that not even the roosters are up?” 

“He is aware. He is also very persistent.” 

“I see,” James grumbles. He likes to think he knows Antonio quite well--besides the knowledge he’s gained from the various rumors swirling around the castle and the kingdom--and he just knows this has something to do with the conversation he and Antonio had a few days ago. “Tell him I’ll join him in a handful of minutes.” 

“Very well, Sir Barnes.” 

“James!” Antonio calls out, waving from his spot in the middle of a ring of lit candles. They barely provide any meaningful light, but they do well in helping James find out where Antonio is. 

“Do you have any idea what time is it?” James asks in lieu of a greeting, mouth shaped into a frown. 

Antonio leers at him. “Was I interrupting any dreams?” 

“No.” 

Antonio waves a dismissive hand, then cocks his hips. “Pity. As it stands, do you remember what you said to me? About how if I were not your student--”

“I’d consider courting you?” James finishes, raising an eyebrow. 

Antonio nods enthusiastically. “Yes! I have chosen to take the route where I, the student, become the master, and therefore you wouldn’t have to be my tutor anymore. Then, we may--” 

James holds up an index finger, silencing Antonio. “If you become the master. I’ll consider yourself no longer under my tutelage once you can make me hit the ground three times. None of those dirty moves from last time.” 

“Continue to teach me, sir Barnes, and I will tell you when I feel I am ready to challenge you in an honorable duel.” Antonio actually bows, showing respect that James is honestly unaccustomed to seeing from him. 

Antonio, surprisingly, hasn’t flirted with James even once throughout the past couple of weeks that he has decided to take his training seriously. Not once has he attempted to unbutton his shirt, and not once has he found any excuse to press himself against James. 

He listens to everything James tells him with rapt attention, and the fluidity and grace with which he moves is inspiring. Antonio has always been called a genius, a prodigy, and James is now starting to understand why. Few can learn at a rate like he can; his mind absorbs information like a sponge.

Antonio manages to block a couple blows.

James smiles at him, and Antonio smiles back. 

Antonio’s sword comes down against the strong of James’ sword, and, before James has any time to react, Antonio grabs James’ blade with one of his hands and shoves his sword up until both of their rain guards are meeting, wrenching downwards and ripping James’ sword away from his hands.  

“You’re learning!” James exclaims. 

Antonio drops both of their swords and runs in for an excited hug. 

James gladly accepts it. 

Antonio’s back hits the dirt for the nth time. “I was so close,” he groans, rolling around without care for his garments. “I keep getting close, but you always do something!” 

James helps him up. “We’ll work on it.”

James’ back hits the dirt. “Wow,” he says. “You didn’t have to kick me or anything.” 

Antonio snorts. “That was one time. I have to do this two more times, right?” 

“In a row.”

Antonio crosses his arms. 

Antonio continues to learn, continues to improve. He starts to anticipate what James’ moves are going to be before he even makes them. 

James will admit that he’s been going easy on the lad, but now he thinks he can ramp it up a bit, make him sweat, make him work for it. 

Antonio lands on his ass so many times that he calls for a break in the middle of the session, saying he needs to go sit on a cushion for a while. 

James laughs heartily, then offers to grab Antonio a pillow, granted he doesn’t try to sit on it in the dirt. 

“We’ll duel in a week!” Antonio promises as he runs into the castle to get himself firmly planted on that plush chaise lounge he has in his quarters. 

James lands on his stomach, sword clattering a foot away. 

“Two more times, right?” Antonio asks from above, sounding positively giddy. They’re both drenched in sweat, and Antonio has some dirt smeared on his cheekbone. 

“Two more times,” James agrees, pushing himself back up. 

This time, it’s James who lands on his ass. “Where did that come from?” He’s kind of in shock. The move that Antonio pulled off is sure as hell not one that he taught him. 

“I can think on the fly,” Antonio says. “One more time?” 

Lord, James thinks, Antonio might actually win this. Not that James would mind, honestly. These past few weeks have really... opened him up to the idea of possibly having Antonio as a lover, although he’s still hesitant to start anything while Antonio is under his tutelage. Again, ethics. 

Time slows down to a crawl as James falls once again. He swears to the Lord that he can see his life flash before his eyes, the pollen carried by the wind. 

“Oh,” he groans as his back, indeed, hits the ground. 

Antonio straddles his stomach, much like he did the first time. “I am going to be honest,” he chuckles, “I also got some training from Sir Rhodes.” 

“That’s cheating,” James mutters, looking up at Antonio. 

“Maybe, but I think I have proven that I no longer need you to tutor me, correct? It does not matter where my knowledge comes from, as long as I am able to apply it.” Antonio places his hands on either sides of James’ head, back dipping. He lowers his head, bringing his mouth closer to James’ until their breaths are mingling, then--

He sits up. “I enjoy daffodils,” he says, “and my favorite dish is beef bourguignon. I believe that would be sufficient enough information for you to court me?” 

“You are a wretched creature,” James breathes out, eyes hooded.

Antonio takes James’ hands and guides them to his hips. “I have the utmost faith in you, Sir Barnes. Perhaps you will have me courted by the end of this month.” 

[moonlightsolo]

Bête Noire

summary: Rey has invited you to her quarters and hopefully it is just to make amends. Ever since Leia had told you both to stay away from each other, you haven’t seen her except when she randomly sat down next to you. Maybe she can give you some insight on why the Force is making you see Kylo Ren.

pairing: kylo ren x female reader

warnings: angry reader

wc: 2.6k

a/n: can we just pretend that the plot of the rise of skywalker didn’t happen during ok bc it literally will ruin my fic lol & sorry for the lack of kylo in this chapter i promise you’ll get some next week :)

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

The soft stomps of your boots carry you down the hallway towards Rey’s quarters, you can’t help but grow nervous. You're confused as to why she sat down next to you at dinner the night before. She tried to help you when something was stirring in the Force, making your ears ring uncontrollably. 

Rey told you to meditate to calm yourself and your power made you rise from the ground. Poe had brought you back to your room and now she wants you to meet her this morning. Although the negative memories of her on the Star Destroyer still plays in your mind.

Once you reach her door, your knuckles comes up to softly knock on the metal. It opens, but she is sitting across the room scanning through a book on her lap. “Come in.” She says. With a hesitant step, you move through the doorway and then the door shuts behind you. 

Her eyes peek up at you, her wide smile showing as she stands and runs to you. Her arms engulf you in a hug as she rests her chin in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry.” Her voice cracks as it comes out, she is obviously upset. You can’t help but hug her back just as tight.

You both stand there holding each other as tears flow freely down each other’s cheeks. It is almost like the Force was mending your relationship with her. She slowly pulls away to wipe under her eyes, “I’ve been looking through Master Luke’s books.” Her accent spills out as she walks over to the scribbled novel.

“Supposedly you can float or rise from the ground during deep meditation,” She mumbles, her index finger running over the words. “It helps increase your power and strengthen your sense of the Force.” She taps the page, smiling as she looks at you.

“I’ve done it once before. I was meditating purposely, although i wasn't floating on purpose. Kylo walked in on me. That was when I found Leia.” You rub your temple as you walk towards her to look at the book.

“I’ve been trying to train myself, with Leia’s help, of course, to be a Jedi. It’s quite challenging.” She states as she closes the book and lays it in a bin with the others.

“A Jedi? Doesn’t that mean you’ll be the last one?” Your eyes widen in surprise.

“Yes... Unless Ben Solo decides to return, but I’m not sure how that would be handled.” She runs her fingers over the pages. “You’re against Jedi’s now aren’t you?” She glances up at you.

“Not exactly. I never really had an opinion on them.” You shrug. “I guess that’s better than hating them right?” She laughs softly and you just nod with a smile.

“In those books, is there anything about uh... Force connections or hallucinations?” You mumble as you take a step forward with your eyes on the worn books. “Like a Force Bond?” She asks like she knows what you’re talking about. “Yes, that.”

“You have one with him don’t you?” She walks up to you, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“I do. With Kylo, I see him a lot.” You look up at her and you can see the sympathy on her face.

“It’s not an hallucination. It’s the Force connecting you both. I used to have one with him but I severed it on Crait. I haven’t felt his presence since then.” You felt a pang of jealousy in your chest.

Kylo had this bond with Rey too?

You shake away that feeling as Rey brings you to sit down, “Let’s talk more.” Her hand rests on your upper back as she leads you to sit down.

-

You and Rey talk for a very long time, mostly about what happened while you were with the First Order. Leia ends up interrupting to remind you about your check-up at the med-bay.

Rey and Leia tag along, walking with you down the cold hallways. When you lay down on the bed the nurse rubs a wand on your abdomen that shows the child on the screen. “I see here that you’re actually carrying two.” The nurse says as he points at the black and white screen.

“Like twins?” You croak out, your hand going over your mouth in disbelief. Leia was shocked as well, usually, she can feel those kinds of things in the Force. “Just like my brother and me.” She says as she takes your hand. “We will help you with everything along the way.” She looks up at Rey and she also nods to reassure you. 

-

Rey and Leia leave you to walk back to your room since they both have other matters to attend to. It was quite nice to have Rey back in your life again. She’s gonna be a great aunt— You almost laugh out loud at the thought.

As you walk into your shared quarters, you see that Poe is sitting at the desk with a datapad in his hand, BB-8 is right next to him and Kaydel is sitting on his bed reading a book with the door wide open.

“Hi.” You simply say to him with a small wave in front of his eyes, “Oh hey.” He glances up at you for a moment before going back to concentrating on whatever he is doing.

“I’ve been trying to get him off of that thing but he’s doing important business.” She shrugs and motions for you to come into his room.

Hesitatingly, you move forward and past the doorframe. Your eyes take in the space, it’s just all Poe. It looks just like yours, with the bed and wardrobe but he had Resistance memorabilia hanging on the walls. Like torn fabric from an old Republic jacket, his helmet and his own fighter gear hanging up on hooks.

Kaydel interrupts your gazing eyes, “Can I ask you a question?” She sits up on the bed, her eyes are fixed on you. She seems too serious.

You shrug, not really knowing what it was going to be about.

“What was it like to live with the First Order like one of them?” She asks, making you grimace on the inside. What a random question. “It was fine? A hardworking environment. A bit tense at times.” Your fingers toy with some of the clutter on Poe’s dresser.

“Were you really Kylo Ren’s apprentice? What is he like when it’s only you two together?” You can feel your insides heating up with anger, she’s just trying to bring up the past; she knows the answers to these questions.

“Does he live up to his title? Is he as monstrous behind closed doors as he is depicted to be? Oh wait, I saw his true colors when he interrogated me after being captured. I can say that he is as despicable as everyone thinks.” She spits out like venom was seething from her mouth.

As she opens her mouth to say more to you, your hand comes up to silence her. Her lips automatically shut from the Force. “Don’t you dare speak any more about him. You don’t even know him.” You growled, your whole face is twisted in disgust. “You don’t know what he’s been through. You have no idea.” Her hands scrambled to her throat, pulling at an unseen hand that was muting her voice box. BB-8 rolls up next to you, beeping at you to stop but you ignore the droid.

A strong arm wraps around your waist and tugs you back, causing you to let go of her throat. “You dark scum!” She screams, voice hoarse.

“What are you doing?!” Poe is screaming at you now as he almost throws you out of the room. “You could have killed her!” His finger is pointing at you sternly.

“Poe! She was trying to get under my skin! She was bringing up Ren!” You retaliated, “And no! I couldn’t have killed her, I wasn’t choking her. I just had a hold on her voice so she would just shut the hell up!” You throw your hands up in the air.

His bedroom door closes from her slamming it, “You cannot use the Force on her! Well for one, you can’t use it out of anger. And two, you can’t use it on your friends! What is wrong with you?!” Once those words left his mouth, your mouth shuts and you go silent. He realizes what he just said, he goes to apologize but you pull away. “Don’t.”

You walk over to your bedroom door and disappear behind it and lean against the door once it’s closed. You take deep shaky breaths to try and control your emotions but it doesn’t work. Your hand goes to your mouth as you weep silently— Hot tears stream down your face. You lost your temper, you didn’t want to hurt anyone. Especially Poe, you didn’t want him to think differently of you.

After you calm down a bit, you stand to your feet to change into some warm pajamas. Hopefully, you can sleep away the memories of today.

-

When you wake up, it isn’t by choice. Someone is pushing your body quite rough trying to wake you up. The room is dark, at first you thought it was Kylo but he wouldn’t wake you up like that. “What?” You snapped, eyes still closed.

“Come train with me.” It’s Rey, “I think you’ll really benefit from this lesson.” She whispers and her hand drops from your arm.

You open your eyes with a groan but she wasn’t in front of you. “Meet me in the hallway near my room. I’ll bring you to where I train.” Her voice is in her head, you could swear she was right there.

Once you get up and get dressed, you pull your boots on your feet and zip them up. You wrap the black tunic around your neck that you stole from Kylo. You sneak out into the dark living area and into the vacant hallways.

The chilly air around you made you shiver, it was much warmer in the rooms as they have more heating and insulation.

Your hand rests on your belly as your feet bring you around a few bends until you see Rey down the hall. She jogs over to you excitedly, her staff hanging on her back. It reminds you of your own that you left behind.

She can tell you’re getting distracted by it, “Come with me. You’ll really love the view.” She motions with her head to follow. Rey weaves and bobs down the hallways until she makes it to a man-made stone staircase that leads to who knows where.

“It’s just up here.” She begins to climb, her legs moving faster than yours can as she skips some steps. Once you both make it to the top, your eyes scan the area. The walls are made of ice, the rising sun flowing through the chunks causing a blue glow to light up the area.

“It’s a bit cold, but you get used to it. It’s a really good area to train. Especially meditate. It’s such a different climate from Jakku. I actually don’t mind the cold.” She rambles as she lays out her supplies; Her staff, a book, and Luke Skywalkers lightsaber. “It’s really beautiful up here. Thank you for showing me this.” Your eyes focus on the saber and she notices how you’re eyeing it.

“Leia lets me borrow it to train. Hopefully, I can make my own someday.” She smiles. “You ready?” She asks as she opens up the Jedi book. “After I trained with Master Luke on Ahch-To, I discovered so many things. I have never been more focused or in touch with the Force.” She runs her fingers over the pages as she flips through to find something. You never got to see her after she left to find him only because you were left on Crait.

“Ah, meditating. Here we are. We’re gonna float together but purposely this time.” 

She sits down on the stone ground and you copy her. You shiver from the cold seeping through your pants as you criss-cross your legs and close your eyes.

She puts her hand on the ground, “Feel the energy. The balance. The peace and the violence.” Her thick accent murmurs into the cold air, “Find the balance.”

Pictures appear in your mind as you channel the Force. Animals, the hidden parts in the dark places of ice caverns, death, family and friends...

You gasp in awe when you see the sunrise and the multiple moons beginning to fade from the sky. Visions flipped through your brain, almost like you are seeing the frozen planet from another perspective. The snow is glistening and beautiful but it’s still so cold, the animals are prancing around but the circle of life still continues.

Your eyes slowly open and for a moment you think nothing has changed but you both are floating. There are stray rocks and chunks of ice in the air, the lightsaber, and the books. Her eyes open when she notices you looking around and she smiles so wide.

“It worked!” She laughs as she gently floats back to the ground and onto her feet. Her hand reaches out to catch a falling rock in her hand and she tosses it around. You slowly come back down to the ground and onto your feet, your body feels light and renewed.

“You’re more than welcome to stay while I train with the saber.” She says as she summons it to her hand and turns it on.

Your eyes focus on the bright blue hue, the calming sound of the saber was different from Kylo’s. It was almost soothing. “I think I’m gonna grab a bite to eat actually. Thank you. I’ll see you later, Rey.” You wave as you start to go back down the steps.

You follow the hallways with a smile on your face and a bounce in your step, one of your hands rest on your belly as you greet everyone good morning. It is quite busy at sunrise for some reason. They look slightly confused but they still greet you with the same attitude. 

You imagine doing this on the Star Destroyer, the thought makes you laugh because everyone was too serious to smile on that ship.

Once you make it to your quarters, you walk in and see that Poe’s bedroom door was wide open and so was yours. You couldn’t have been gone for more than thirty minutes? You didn’t think he would’ve woken up this early.

You walk back out into the hallway and to the commissary to see if Poe was there. It was practically empty, the food was being turned from breakfast to lunch. You could tell by how the droids and people were preparing it.

You make your way over to the hangar, the doors open and it’s an instant rush of cold air. Your breath comes out in puffs as you look around for his X-wing, spotting the orange and white droid you smile. Then Poe’s bright jumpsuit as slides out from underneath his ship.

You slowly make your way over to him, your arms crossed with your hands under them to keep warm. “Hi.” You interrupt his work, his eyes look at you then back at the wires and back at you. “You’re alive? I had no idea where you went.” He sighs. He lays down his tools and wipes his gloves off on his pants.

Poe pulls you into an unexpected hug, “I was honestly worried. Especially after everything that happened last night. I went to go check with Leia but she hasn’t hear from you or Rey.” He pulls away only slightly, “You’re okay? They’re okay?” He asks looking down at your belly then back up at you, his famous smile showcases his dimple.

“Never better.” You grin as you go in for one more hug.

tag list: @officiallpeterparker @funnysadshit @ymariejp @attorneyl @fangirl570 @trinityrud20 @kylos-sassy-cousin @delicatelyherdreams @fizzywoohoo @savvy7392 @angelias134 @that-girl-named-alex @cas-backwards-tie @glimmering-darling-dolly @glitterypinkkitty @blxkstar​ @his-snow-white-queen @elsasshole​ @smiithys @nanocoool @deathbyarabbit @alex-skr​

[fanficshiddles]

Here for you, One shot

Thanks for the prompt! Hope you like it. This was a little bit of a challenge for me as it’s not really something I’ve dabbled in before, or know much about. So I hope it’s ok!

So ive never rlly found a fic that had a druggie reader,,, n maybe u could write a fic on how loki (whos confused about his feelings for the reader but ends up rlly liking her) slowly finds out about the reader doing coke and almost overdoses (n i would assume hes like only heard of drugs but doesnt rlly know what to do) basically like the song Milk by the 1975 but the reader does coke bc she has chronic depression,,, u can end it however u want,

 -

Loki had been battling with his feelings over you for a while.

He enjoyed your company, much more than most in this godforsaken world. You were a good listener when he wanted to talk, or when he just wanted to sit in silence and read you were good company for that, too. Often you would bring him something to eat and just sit down near him in silence, giving him a smile.

Then he started opening up more and more to you, and you both would chat the hours away and before you knew it, it was almost four in the morning.

You laughed at his pranks on the Avengers, he started doing them purposely to impress you. Enjoying the way your face would light up as he winked at you when he had a mischievous idea. And the way you’d laugh, he loved that sound… But he found himself wanting to be with you more and more, you plagued his thoughts entirely.

So, there he was, stalking with purpose along the corridor with a bunch of roses in his hand, to ask you out to dinner. He knew you weren’t a huge fan of flowers, apart from roses. That was a small detail he had never forgotten.

He reached your room and took a deep breath before knocking. He was nervous, he wasn’t sure if you would feel the same way about him or not. He was desperate to court you, he was scared of his own feelings actually…

Loki was pulled out of his worrying thoughts when you never came to the door. Odd, he thought. He knew you’d went back to your room after lunch. He noticed because you seemed especially down today, that’s why he had decided to finally act on his feelings. In hope to cheer you up, too. And maybe find out what was wrong.

But when you didn’t answer, he tried the handle but it was locked. He knocked again. ‘Are you alright? It’s me, Loki!’ He called through loudly.

He pressed his ear to the door, frowning when he heard some strange noises from your room. It sounded like you were groaning in pain.

In worry, he teleported inside straight away. His heart sank upon seeing you. You were on the sofa, white powder was on the table and you looked really spaced out. Like Thor when he was really drunk, but worse.

‘Oh shit!’ Loki rushed over to you, dropping the roses, he sat down and cupped your face. He patted your cheek gently and called your name repeatedly to try and get you to come back to him.

You were shaking badly, but your eyes seemed to come back to normal, even as your head lulled around like it was too heavy for your neck.

‘L… Loki?’ You gasped and then suddenly clung to him as if for your life, he was a little startled at that but he rubbed your back.

‘It’s me. What have you done, love? Are you ok?’ He was really worried, not knowing what, exactly, was wrong.

He looked at the table and saw the white powder, frowning he then looked back at you. He used his Seidr and had a glass of water appear for you, he helped you to drink it, hoping that would help.

You had told him once before about your drug issue, but he didn’t fully understand it. You’d told him it was like alcohol, it gave you a release and a high. He’d also seen the needle marks on your arm, but he was cursing himself now for not asking Bruce or Tony about it more, to understand properly. Because it certainly didn’t seem like it was helping you now.

Loki stayed with you for the entire night, making sure you were safe. He didn’t let you take more drugs, even when you turned violent against him he restrained you with his arms. And let’s face it, you had no chance against a God.

When you eventually passed out, he carried you to your bed and watched over you while you slept it off. He stroked your hair softly and spoke gently to you, even though you were out of it.

In the morning you woke up feeling like crap. But you were confused when you found your head on Loki’s lap, he was caressing your face softly.

‘Loki?’ You asked quietly.

‘I’m here, darling. How are you feeling?’ He said softly, helping you to sit up.

You were shaking, cold. You wanted more, but Loki gently cupped your face in his large hands and forced you to look at him.

‘Speak to me. Why would you take such a substance that makes you so ill?’ You could see the worry in his eyes, it confused you why he would be so worried about you.

‘I… I usually get a high from it. I… took a bit too much… Please, Loki. I need it.’ You whined.

Loki didn’t know much about drugs, but he wasn’t stupid. He was quick to learn that it was obviously addicting, and was not good for you like you’d made it out to be.

���You don’t need it, sweetheart. Please, speak to me. Why are you doing this to yourself?’

You sighed and closed your eyes, a tear rolled down your cheek. It was wiped away quickly by his thumb. You then opened up to him about your depression, how you’d been struggling with it for years.

Loki was shocked, he had no idea you’d been so depressed. You always seemed so happy and were cheering others up, it was scary for him to think that you’d been suffering all this time.

When you opened your eyes after opening up fully to him, he surprised you by not saying a word. But he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you onto his lap. He cradled your head into him and just held you.

It was something you didn’t realise you’d been needing. But you felt a different kind of release in his hug. One that drugs wouldn’t touch.

Loki stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head, making your heart flutter.

‘You don’t need to go through this alone anymore, darling. I’m here for you, and I’m going to help you through this.’

[imaginedisish]

I Think We’re Alone Now (Five Hargreeves x Reader) (The Umbrella Academy)

A/N: BOY AM I MAD. SO this got deleted...presumably because @staff is trash and someone was like “EW SHE’S WRITING FOR A FIFTEEN YEAR OLD!” News flash AIDAN GALLAGHER IS A YEAR BELOW ME IN HIGH SCHOOL. I AM A JUNIOR. HE IS A SOPHOMORE. I JUST TURNED 17. HE IS TURNING 16 IN A FEW MONTHS....IM NOT SOME CREEPY CHILD PEDOPHILE. AND YA KNOW WHAT, THERE IS NOTHING SEXUAL ABOUT THIS IMAGINE! It is PURE FLUFF, and Five and the reader are BOTH 17 IN THIS AU!! I AM NOT SEXUALIZING HIM IN ANY WAY HOLY CRAP. Wow...I’m clearly mad...um...sorry?? I’m just honestly exhausted from my dance competition today. I WON FIRST OVERALL THOUGH...SO YAY! I might write a small headcanon for tonight...but I’m so tired...I might have to take a short break from writing until Sunday, since I’m competing at this competition all weekend. I’ll keep everyone updated. So, for now, here’s a repost of I Think We’re Alone Now...enjoy

Summary: You and Five are seventeen, and have just started dating, but you feel the need to hide your relationship from the rest of the Hargreeves. One night, you decide to sneak into Five’s room, and chaos somewhat ensues…

Warnings: MEGA FLUFFFFFFF AHHhhhh! Language, awkward reference to sex from Luther bc Luther is Luther…smh Luther. 

Word Count: 2,883

Stars twinkle brightly above you, dancing whimsically in the dark night sky. The crisp autumn breeze passes through you, sending a chill down your spine. You shiver as you stare up at the brick building in front of you. Your heart begins to beat rapidly as you contemplate what is was you were about to do. You were going to sneak into Five’s room.

Five had told you, “It’s the second window from the left, south side of the Academy, third floor. Come around 9:30, okay?” No matter how nervous you were about the matter, you simply couldn’t say no.

 You knew you’d have to be discrete, since the rest of the Hargreeves were unaware of your relationship with Five. They knew you were close friends with him; you were friends with the entire family, especially since they were helping you develop your power, levitation. However, because you had grown so close with the family, you and Five agreed that his siblings couldn’t find out about your relationship. 

In truth, there was no ‘known’ force stopping you and Five from being together. You were both 17, you were both supers, and you were both extremely similar. You liked the same music: David Bowie, Arctic Monkeys, Arcade Fire, and The Strokes. You were both unbelievably witty, as you constantly bounced remarks and comebacks off of one another. Most importantly, you liked each other. In fact, you thought there was a chance you could love the boy. 

But still, you had agreed with Five that no one could know. Maybe it was the fear of judgement that created the secret, or possibly the fear of disapproval. You knew that Five’s siblings had developed a liking to you, as you had essentially become a part of the family, but you weren’t sure if they would like you as Five’s girlfriend.

So, over the past month, as opposed to going on dates like normal couples do, you and Five had snuck around the city together, going on dates to Griddy’s, and having picnics in the park. Sometimes you two secretly hid away in his room, chatting and listening to music. You hated hiding things from Alison, Diego, Luther and Klaus, but as of right now it seemed as though it had to be done. 

A cold breeze snaps you back to reality. The wind begins to pick up again, grabbing at your green, turtle neck sweater. You pull at your sweater, softly pressing it down against your body as your hair begins to take flight next. You groan in annoyance, wanting to be inside with Five instead of out in the cold.

You take a deep breath. I can do this, You think to yourself, yanking up the right sleeve of your sweatshirt, and then nervously scratching your forearm. While you were growing better at controlling your abilities, you weren’t always able to hold them for an extraneous period of time. Levitating yourself was also something that challenged you. More often than not, you would usually fall once you were around four feet in the air. 

Obviously, that was nowhere near enough for a journey up the side of the Academy. The Academy was massive, and it’s size still amazed you, regardless of the fact that you had been here millions of times before. 

You search the ground for a pebble, so you could let know Five you had arrived in a more romantic way, as opposed to sending him a text message. You quickly find a perfectly smooth, grey, round pebble next to your feet. You pick up the pebble and aim towards Five’s window. With a light throw and a tap, the pebble reaches Five’s window. The action was a bit “Romeo and Juliet,” (minus the double suicide at the end, of course), but it was fitting in the moment.

Seconds later, a pair of dark blue eyes meet your own. Five smirks at first, but his smile quickly widens, almost as if the longer he stared at you, the happier he became. Your heart flutters in your chest, and you smile back. He begins to crack open the window, his bangs falling in front of his eyes in the process. 

“Come on up,” Five says loud enough for you to understand him, but low enough for no one else to hear him. You nod your head, swallowing harshly, nerves rushing through your body. 

You close your eyes, imagining yourself floating in the air. Slowly, your feet lift up from the concrete. The wind swirls around you, helping you grow higher. You open your eyes, noticing that you were just one floor away from where Five’s room resided. You push the air down with the palms of your hands, and you levitate up to the next level. 

I did it, I actually did it, You think to yourself, pride swelling in your gut as you finally reach Five’s window. After so much tiring training, and so much effort, you were finally able to fly. 

There was Five, his smile growing wider now that you were face to face. His piercing blue eyes twinkle in the moonlight, just as the stars had been. No, in fact…his eyes were more brilliant than the stars. Stars held so much importance, serving as guides for the lost, wish granters for those who longed for something more…but that was what Five was for you. You didn’t need the metaphorical presence of a constellation. You already had that, wrapped up in the package of a 17 year old boy that you were growing to love. 

He extends a hand out to you, inviting you inside. “Grab my hand, I’ve got you. You won’t fall, I promise.” He says. You fly closer to him in response, lifting your arm towards Five as he takes your hand in his. 

However, just as you had been doing so well, a sensation of weakness overcomes you. You feel yourself beginning to lose control as you attempt to change your position, as to fly into the room horizontally. 

“Shit,” You mutter, your eyes searching Five’s in fear. “I don’t think I can control this any longer,” Your voice is shaky, and your entire body begins to tremble. You had never flown for this long, and it was becoming too much to handle. 

“Yes you can, (Y/N),” Five says, squeezing your hand tighter in his own. He tugs on your hand slightly, helping you get a bit farther inside the room. At this point, your shoulders are through the window, but that was it. Thoughts race around your mind as your powers weaken even further. 

Suddenly, the pressure you normally feel between yourself and the air around you begins to fade away. 

“Five!” You scream, as you feel yourself starting to fall. You grab onto the windowsill, attempting to hold yourself up. Five grabs onto your arms, pulling you quickly, yet carefully into his room. With one final pull from Five, you fall onto the floor of the room. 

Five drops down to where you fell, reaching out his arms to help you stand up. “Are you okay?” He asks, concern prominently filling his voice as you stand to the ground with his help. 

You take a second to catch your breath. “I’m fine, just a bit shaken up is all,” You say, smiling lightly. “And I’m much better now…” You pause, a bit nervous to finish your sentence. “You know, since I’m with you.” 

Five smiles widely. “That was cheesy, but I like it, and only like it because I like you.” Your heart does a back flip in your chest at the sound of his words. Now that things have calmed down a bit, you recognize how close you are to Five. It feels as though you’re an inch away from Five’s face, since neither of you had moved from where he had helped you stand up. 

“You can’t call me cliche or cheesy if you’re saying things like that,” You state sarcastically, crossing your arms in protest. Five steps a bit closer, uncrossing your arms as he takes your hands in his. He was never like this with anyone else. He was usually so cold, so distant, so sarcastic with his siblings. But with you, Five was kind, sweet, and overall an entirely different person. You two could sit on the edge of his bed, listening to music for hours, his fingers carefully combing through your hair.  The only time either of you got up was to change the record that was spinning on the turntable in the left corner of Five’s room.

Five takes another step closer to you. He studies your face for a bit, his eyes often landing on your lips. This makes you a bit nervous, since you two hadn’t kissed yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. God, did you want to. It was more or less that you were scared. You had never kissed anyone before, and quite honestly, this was your first ‘real’ relationship. You didn’t want the kiss to be bad, and you especially didn’t want to disappoint Five. 

With one more step, Five becomes so close to your face that his breath tickles your nose a bit. He looks deeply into your eyes. “Can I just kiss you already?” Five asks, smirking a bit. 

Your heart practically thumps out of your chest as you nod your head. Shit, this is it, You think to yourself. 

 Suddenly, Five’s lips come crashing down on your own. His lips are warm, and surprisingly sweet, moving slowly against yours. You hum a bit, beginning to feel more comfortable. Five smiles against your lips before pressing another soft kiss onto them. 

Then, to your dismay, Five pulls away from you, leaving a slightly cold sensation where he had once been. You wanted more, but you knew you would just have to wait for the next time you had the opportunity to kiss Five. 

Five grins a bit, his hands still holding yours. “You’re absolutely incredible, (Y/N).” Heat quickly rushes to your cheeks, and you can feel yourself becoming red. Five laughs at your new color, his dark, chocolate bangs bouncing against his forehead in the process. 

“Don’t laugh!” You jokingly reprimand. 

“Too bad, I already did. You’re just…” Five pauses a bit, anxiously scratching the back of his neck. “…well you’re cute when you get all frazzled like that,” Five mumbles, hoping you can’t hear him as he lets go of your hands and walking over to one of his many bookshelves. He pulls out a record from the shelf. He picked out one of your favorite records, ‘Bookends’ by Simon and Garfunkel. 

“Is that new? I didn’t think you had Bookends,” You question. 

Five can’t help but smirk. “I may have gotten it because of you,” He says softly, walking over to brown turntable in the corner. He takes the record out of it’s sleeve, and carefully places it on the turntable. He turns the machine on, and the record begins to spin. He slowly allows the needle to come down on the record, and “Bookends Theme,” begins to play. 

There were no lyrics to the song, yet there was something so romantic about the incredibly short melody. Maybe it was the perfect plucking of the guitar strings, or maybe it was simply the chord progression itself. Regardless, the song made your heart flutter in your chest, more than it already was. Five walks over to his bed, and takes a seat on the edge. He pats the spot next to him, inviting you to sit with him. You smile, and walk over to the bed. 

As you sit down, Five instantly raps an arm around your waist. Your head rests against Five’s shoulder, and you close your eyes. You never wanted this moment to end. Everything seemed so absolutely perfect. 

Five began to lean back towards the bed, and you followed him, your back eventually crashing down onto the bed. You push yourself up farther so your feet are no longer hanging off the bed, and Five does the same. Five wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. Your eyes now struggle to stay open, as you hear the sound of sleep calling your name. You allow yourself to give in, closing your eyes tightly. 

You’re still awake as ‘Old Friends’ begins to play. The song is soft and calm. You listen closely to Five’s heart beat, which in contrast with the song is incredibly loud and fast. You open your eyes, looking up at Five. 

“Are you okay? Your heart is practically beating out of your chest,” You say, concern heavy in your voice, picking up your head slightly to get a better look at Five’s face. Five’s piercing blue eyes find yours. 

He swallows harshly. “I’m fine, it’s just,” He pauses for a second, contemplating his words as he looks up at the ceiling above. “Having you here with me, like this, I’m nervous…I guess…” Five trails off. “Having you here is exciting, it’s special.”

You smile resting your head back down on his chest. You close your eyes again, feeling at peace. “Hey Five?” You whisper. 

“Yeah, (Y/N)?” Five responds. 

“I like you, a lot,” You say, a smile spreading across your face. 

“I-,” 

Then, abruptly, Five is cut off by a loud knock at the door. You and Five practically jump up from where you had been laying down. 

“Five! Turn your music off. It’s too late for this shit!” You hear Diego call out from the other side of the door. You and Five say nothing as Five rushes over to the record player to turn the music off. “Also, did you take my comb again?”

“No I didn’t take your fucking comb, Diego!” Five shouts back, rolling his eyes. 

“I don’t believe you,” Diego says angrily. “I’m coming in to find it!”

“Shit!” Five mutters, his eyes widening with fear. 

“What are we going to do?” You ask as the knob of the door twists, and the door creeks open. There’s nowhere to hide. You’re absolutely screwed. 

Diego steps through the door, his eyes instantly landing on you. “Five, what’s (Y/N) doing in your room at 10 o’clock at night?” His eyes deeply cut through Five’s soul. Five takes a deep breath, preparing himself to explain the truth to Diego. 

“Well, um, you see-,” 

Klaus pops his head through the door. “Where did the Simon and Garfunkel go? I was having a good-,” Klaus stops talking as his eyes land on you. “Uh oh looks like we’ve go two troublesome teens on our hands, now don’t we?” Klaus cackles like a hyena.

Five scoffs. “Don’t you have some ouija board to be talking to right about now?” Five says, annoyed, taking a step towards Klaus. 

Klaus crosses his arms against his chest. “You know what, just for that,” Klaus cups his hands, bringing them next to his mouth as if he was going to call a group of children to dinner. “Luther! Allison! Clean up on aisle ‘teenage love’! Immediate assistance required! Thank you!” He brings his hands back down, slapping them against the side of his thighs. 

Five responds by showing Klaus his middle finger. 

Seconds later, Luther and Allison are standing at the door. Luther’s jaw drops to the ground, and Alison begins to laugh lightly. 

“Come on, you guys didn’t see this coming?” Allison asks, laughing still.

“Quite honestly, I suppose it was bound to happen eventually,” Klaus agrees. Luther and Diego nod along to Klaus’s point. 

“I mean, do we let them have their privacy?” Diego asks, leaning over to Luther. Luther shrugs his shoulders. 

“I guess so, but clothing stays on! Got it?” Luther commands. Five’s cheeks grow red with embarrassment. 

“No shit Sherlock,” Five says, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, let’s leave them alone, boys,” Allison says, pushing her brothers out of the room. 

“But I wanted to babysit!” Klaus exclaims, and you can’t help but let out a laugh. Allison is the last person out. She shuts the door behind her. 

“I’m so sorry about that,” Five says, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” You say, a smile spreading across your face. Five lays back down, and you follow suit, reverting back to how you and Five had been laying down before. You rest your head on Five’s chest, his heart still beating just as quickly as it had been before. 

“So before, you didn’t get to finish what you were saying,” You say to Five. Suddenly, his heart begins to beat faster. 

He takes a deep breath. “Well,” He pauses, “I like you too, (Y/N).” Five responds. You can’t see his face, but you know he’s smiling. “I like you a lot. In fact, I think I might like you more than anything else on this planet.” His heart is thumping wildly against his chest now. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers combing gently through your hair. 

“I like being here,” You whisper softly. 

“I like having you here,” Five responds. You can’t help but smile. You close your eyes yet again, falling asleep in Five’s arms. 

[professional-benaddict]

Starker ficlet - BSDM auction AU

For the moodboard and drabble here

Dom Tony, sub 18+ Peter, Dom Stephen, BDSM, Dom/sub dynamics, humiliation, crying bc it’s not a fic of mine unless Peter’s crying, 1.5k

----------

“Oh, back so soon, Stark. What happened to Keener?” Stephen purrs smoothly when he sees Tony walking into the backstage. Let’s just say that not everyone makes it past the bouncers to get backstage, unless Stephen has put you on the sacred list. 

“Dumped him. He could hardly take a beating.” Tony responds simply. “I heard you got a dozen new subs to show off tonight.” The Dom says, cutting right to the point of why he is at Stephen’s secret underground club. Stephen is hosting another auction and Tony is aching to get his hands on a new sub since Harley hardly lasted a month. 

“Two dozen actually, and a good amount of twinks this time too.” The other Dom says, knowing that his friend has a peculiar taste, and is not interested in female subs. 

“This better be good Strange.” Tony grumbles as he moves to walk past Stephen and to the audience to sit down. “And get me a scotch, will you?” 

Stephen scoffs in return, taking the clipboard that his assistant is showing him. 

“I’m not your sub, Stark, but I will provide you with one.” The other Dom chuckles before heading off when it is announced from somewhere above that the auction is starting in ten minutes. 

After getting his scotch, Tony goes and finds himself a free booth and enjoys his drink as he waits for the auction to start. But, even when the auction starts, Tony pays more attention to his phone and his drink since Stephen always does the girls first. Half an hour later, Stephen finally brings the first boy on stage and Tony starts paying attention, but after the fourth boy, Tony starts to lose hope of finding himself a new toy tonight. 

When Stephen announces that this is the second to last boy, Tony finishes his drink in one big gulp before getting up, ready to leave the auction empty-handed, but then his eye catches something glorious on stage. It is the boy, number 42, standing there in all his naked glory with nothing but a simple, black leather collar around his neck and his delicate hand in Stephen’s much larger and stronger one. Before even considering for a brief second, Tony shouts out his offer, which is so high already that only one other person in the dark room challenges it, but it is all pocket money for Tony and he raises once more. And so, the sub is Tony’s and Stephen says he can collect his belonging backstage once they have gone through all the subs. Half an hour later, Peter’s delicate hand is in Tony’s.

“All yours, Stark. Enjoy.” Stephen grins widely and waltzes away now that all the money has been transferred by his customers to his account. The sub looks as Stephen walks away longingly before turning to Tony, but he does not raise his head to meet the older man’s eyes. 

“What’s your name, boy?” Tony asks, almost already bored, but he has to give the sub a chance since he paid so much to get him. The boy flinches visibly before speaking, but that might just be from the cold since he is just dressed in a black silk robe that was provided by Stephen’s staff. 

“Peter, Sir. Peter Parker.” Peter squeaks out. 

“I’m Tony Stark, but you will refer to me as Mr Stark at all times. Understood?”

“Understood, Mr Stark.”

“Good, now let’s see if you’re trained at all. Undress and present.”

“R-right here?” Peter asks unsurely. 

“Yes, right here! Who’s in charge, huh?” Tony snaps with a raised voice and Peter snaps into action. “Christ, who trained you?” 

“Mr Beck, Mr Stark.” Peter replies quickly after folding his silk robe as neatly as he can before placing it next to his feet. The sub then spreads his legs to be at shoulder-length, straightens his back, lifts his head and raises his arms to intertwine his fingers behind his head. 

After being a Dom for most of his life, Tony can recognise a good presentation posture from a mile away, and this boy is a horrendous sub, but also a stunning sub. The boy jumps visibly when the older man begins touching him and corrects his posture. His collar feels tight around his neck when he feels his new Dom’s keen eyes on him, examining every bit of his naked body. A group of people walk past right when Tony is groping at Peter’s exposed cock and balls, but the boy can hardly say anything to protest the suffocating embarrassment but to keep his gaze down and mouth shut. 

“I’ve heard that Beck’s subs are the worst ‘round here.” Tony muses and straightens up after inspecting his new belonging. Peter gulps a little, but does not reply as he was not directly addressed in the form of a question. “But, you’re such a pretty thing, that I guess I’ll give you a chance.” 

Peter sighs in relief and for a brief second, he lets his posture down, but he straightens up as soon as he realises his mistake, glancing up nervously at his new Dom before dropping his gaze. Tony smirks, thinking that perhaps the sub is not so hopeless after all. The Dom snaps his fingers. 

“Get dressed. We are going home.” 

A week later, Peter is less of a horrendous sub, but still far from the standard that Tony is used to. Half of the time, the Dom wonders how on Earth Peter even made it to Stephen Strange and put up for auction when he is clearly barely trained. He also thinks about how bad of a deal it was to pay so much money for a badly trained sub, but the other half of the time, Tony marvels at the sheer beauty of the boy that is now occupying his guest room, right next to his own master bedroom. 

Despite his bad posture, lack of manners and half-assed training, the boy reminds Tony of a fairy. He is light as a feather on his feet and mostly walks on his toes, but when he does walk with his heels on the floor too, it is soft and delicate. The Dom wonders if the sub is afraid of angering him, and that is why he is tip-toeing around, so he assures him that he can roam around freely, except for the playroom, his bedroom and the office. Peter must get permission to enter those rooms. 

To balance out his light and delicate form, Peter’s eyes are dark and carry a lot of history for such a young man. Tony hopes that he can get the privileges of knowing the sub’s backstory one day, as there is a hint of sadness is those dark brown eyes that catches his curiosity. But, for now the Dom has to focus on training his sub. 

“No, hands flat on your thighs.” Tony corrects for the third time after commanding a naked Peter to kneel by his feet. The Dom kicks the boy’s hand lightly with his Oxford shoes, which matches his three-piece suit. 

“Sorry, Mr Stark.” Peter says a little thickly as being corrected for all his failures since waking up is taking its toll on his self-esteem. He swallows down a sob, but he is a fraction too late and catches Tony’s attention. 

“What’s the matter?” Tony asks and remains standing in front of Peter. 

“I-“

“Speak up!”

“I’m humiliated!” Peter yelps out and sobs again, but does not lift his hands from his thighs to wipe at his eyes. 

“Well, you have to put those feelings aside, because this is not humiliating in the slightest. If only you knew, boy.” Tony scoffs and goes to get himself a drink from the stand in the corner of the living room, leaving Peter on the carpet. He could have made the sub kneel on the wooden floor, but he decided to be kind and chose the carpet instead. “Posture!” 

Peter flinches and puts his hand back on his thigh, biting back another sob. 

“One more mistake and I’m spanking you, do you understand? But, I highly doubt you want that since you cannot even take verbal correction. So, I highly suggest you start behaving like a proper sub and not like a crybaby, or I’m spanking you till you cannot walk and then returning you to that shit Beck who apparently ‘trained’ you.” 

Peter’s expression hardens, but he does not say anything. After swallowing his sobs down and sniffling the last tears away, Peter corrects his posture without Tony prompting him to do so. The Dom hums quietly and goes to sit on the leather sofa, watching the sub closely while sipping on his drink. 20 minutes pass, then 40 and then an hour has passed, and Peter has kept his posture perfect without making so much as a peep. With a pleased smile, Tony rises from his seat and offers his hand to the boy who looks up at him with a bewildered expression. 

“Come on, training is over for today. Let’s get you a hot meal and then to bed.” Tony says, his voice much softer than before and Peter almost wants to cry again, but he doesn’t. 

“Thank you, Mr Stark.” Peter replies politely and holds onto his Dom’s hand tightly as he leads the way to the kitchen. Smiling softly, Tony nods back. Perhaps the boy is not so horrendous after all. 

[kyleknight]

Shapeshifters

October Writing Challenge Day 4 part 2 project: bts shapeshifting light weapons au content: eventual ot7, fantasy, shapeshifting weapons sorta like soul eater, parallel worlds I guess?  warnings: mild fighting against monsters  an: ok so this is stuff that Ive already written for this au but Im planning on writing more so I wanted to have this stuff posted already bc it explains the world pretty well.

The stars overhead are a little too bright. A little too big, too close. If Hoseok looks up at the sky long enough, he can actually pick out sharp pointed edges to them. He tries not to look at them and pretends the natural light illuminating his path is moonlight instead of starlight.

Namjoon is leading him along the path at a brisk pace— not quite a run, but it’s fast enough that Hoseok feels a little less panicked about… well… everything. There’s not enough cover out here and Hoseok is terrified of seeing another one of those giant creatures. 

He spots the building, standing in a small clearing. It’s a nice change from the seemingly endless twisted trees on one side of the path and the barren field on the other. 

“What’s that?” he asks Namjoon. It’s a question he’s been asking a lot in the past hour or so. 

“The house? It’s safe,” Namjoon answers. “My friends are in there.”

“They’re like you?” Hoseok says.

Namjoon doesn’t respond until they reach the building. He ignores the door and goes to a boarded up window instead, knocking rapidly on it. “It’s me! Open up!”

A brief moment later, a board covering one of the windows slides and moves out of the window. It’s barely enough space for a person to squeeze through.

“Come on,” Namjoon says. “It’s safe in here.” He glances backwards, and Hoseok does as well. He can’t see anything, but those things from earlier came out of nowhere. Hoseok turns back and climbs through the opening. 

He finds himself in a large room that’s got building materials piled up against the walls but is otherwise empty. Well, empty except for another guy holding the board that must have been blocking the entrance. Hoseok eyes him carefully and moves aside as Namjoon gets inside. The guy then wedges the board back into place.

Hoseok glances around the dark room. There are no light fixtures on the ceiling and no other sources of light save for the starlight sneaking in through cracks in the boards. He feels marginally safer, though. As long as nothing scary is going to jump out at him like earlier.

“Hoseok-ssi,” Namjoon says, “This is Jungkook. One of my friends. And… where’s Jimin and Taehyung?”

“They went out,” Jungkook says. “There was a pack of Shadows that was getting close, so they went to drive them back.”

Namjoon looks worried. “How long ago was that?”

“Not long,” Jungkook says. “But they’re careful. I’ve been watching through the windows just in case Taehyung-ah puts up a firework.” He looks curiously at Hoseok. “So who’s this?”

Namjoon gestures towards the far wall. “Let’s talk in the inside room. It’s complicated.”

Hoseok’s eyes start to adjust as Namjoon guides him through the dark building. It’s a bit like an old farmhouse, he thinks. The first two rooms are sparse, mostly full of wooden supplies and tools, separated by heavy doors. The third room feels much more lived in: resembling a kitchen and more familial storage area. From there, a narrow stairwell leads up to a room with beds, couches, clothes and sheets hung from the wooden rafters above. The thing Hoseok likes more about this room is the larger spaces in between the boards, allowing more starlight to pass through to illuminate the room. 

Namjoon leads Hoseok to a couch with two blankets thrown across it. Hoseok takes one and wraps it around himself. He’s not too cold with his jacket and layers, but the lack of any kind of external warmth here is unnerving enough to send more chills than usual through him. 

Hoseok has so many questions, things he’s still rattled by, but for now, he’s just relieved to be inside. 

“I have more things to explain to you, Hoseok-ssi,” Namjoon says. “But first, I need to tell— Jungkook. Hoseok-ssi is a handler. He’s not from here. He’s from another world, I think.”

Jungkook’s eyes are wide. “Really? Where did you find him?”

“When I was in town,” Namjoon says. “There was a light from the river. I went to go check on it and he was there. There were a few Shadows already on him, so I went to help him out. He brought the light out of me without me even realizing it. We destroyed the Shadows.”

Hoseok watches Jungkook’s reactions. Namjoon’s explanations from earlier didn’t really explain much, but he’s had a little bit of time to try and process them. People here can turn into weapons. Light is dangerous. Hoseok is special, because of what he did when he was holding Namjoon-turned-into-a-bow. Namjoon can turn into a bow and shoot arrows made of soft white light. 

“You’re both magic weapons then?” Hoseok says.

Namjoon nods. “Jungkook is a pistol. And you saw what I am. And what I can do, when the conditions are right. Doing that can destroy the Shadows, but it’s also dangerous because it can attract more attention if you’re careless about it.”

Hoseok pulls the blanket closer around himself. “And that goes for all types of light? Fire too?”

Namjoon’s face turns more serious. “Yeah. It’s… that’s sort of how all the handlers disappeared here. After the sun disappeared and the moon went dark, they couldn’t stand it. They tried to survive with fire and other types of light, but the Shadows got too strong. I’ve never even met one before, not until you.”

Hoseok looks from Namjoon to Jungkook, who is standing near the window, looking outside. He feels so out of his depth. He’s so scared and he just wants to go home. Namjoon is kind and definitely pretty resourceful, but he already told Hoseok he doesn’t understand how he made it to this world. He’s not going to have any suggestions for how to send Hoseok back. And, considering all of their problems with the terrifying Shadows, it feels like it would be selfish to ask. 

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Yoongi should have just stayed inside today. 

He tries to rationalize how it’s not his fault that someone was dumb enough to set off some kind of bright ass firecracker at the shore of the creepiest, darkest lake around. Probably some idiots testing out their light instead of keeping their heads down and not causing trouble. You know, like a rational person. 

Unfortunately, Yoongi can hear the person screaming even from his little fishing hut. If he squints, he can almost make out the small gang of Shadows chasing the guy. He frowns and tries to look for the person’s friend and finds nobody. What the hell? Who just leaves their friend to get hunted down by the Shadows just to save their own skin? They’ve got to be close, to set off light of that magnitude. What a fucking shitty ass betrayal.

Yoongi sighs heavily, shuts the door behind him, and throws himself into a full sprint. The guy is running around aimlessly, the Shadows following him out of curiosity more than anything. That’s good for now but eventually he’ll get tired and the Shadows will get him. Yoongi has to slow down as he gets closer, but he quickly sees an opportunity.

“Change!” he yells, running for the guy. “I’ll help you push them back!”

“Ahhh!” the guy screams. “Help me!” Instead of turning into whatever form he has, he just runs for Yoongi with open arms. 

Good grief. Yoongi isn’t exactly comfortable in his sword form, but what the hell ever. He’d rather not be swung around by a panicking fool, but he’s more concerned about the four Shadows than he is about being dropped. 

He changes and even has the decency to land himself in the guy’s right hand. 

“Ahhh!” the guy screams again, dropping Yoongi just as he expected. “What’s this! What’s this!”

“Don’t drop me!” Yoongi yells. He’s a nice guy, okay, and he doesn’t normally yell at strangers, but this is kind of a dire situation. “Pick me up! Scare them off!”

“Ahhh!” The guy won’t stop screaming, but he picks Yoongi up again and holds him in a position so unbalanced that Yoongi is sure he’s going to be dropped again. The Shadows slow down to a stop, uncomfortably close but not close enough to be in range of Yoongi’s blade. They’re bigger than the usual Shadow that Yoongi encounters. Very bad.

“Quit panicking!” Yoongi says. “They’ve stopped, now swing me around a bit. Act threatening!”

Unfortunately, this guy is incapable of getting himself together. It’s like he’s never dealt with a Shadow before. He goes, “Ahhh!” again and swings Yoongi in the most wobbly manner ever. Yoongi actually feels a bit sick from the motion. One of the Shadows moves back a bit, though.

“Do that again,” Yoongi grits out. “But please, just try to get yourself together. It’s fine, I’m not gonna let you die. It’s going to be okay.” 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” the guy says. He’s shaking, but he adjusts his hold on Yoongi and yells again as he slashes the air in front of him wildly. This time, two of the Shadows back off and the smaller of the two runs in the opposite direction. The two that are closest to Yoongi and his unfortunate partner aren’t convinced by the show. One lumbers closer.

“Fuck,” Yoongi mutters. That light display earlier was pretty impressive. It makes sense that these Shadows wouldn’t be easily scared off. 

“One more time,” Yoongi says. “You can do this. Come on!”

“Ahh!” the guy screams, but this time it’s in a wild desperation. He brings Yoongi back with more force to prepare for another swing, and something resonates within Yoongi. His heart beats harder, louder. His mind feels at peace. The guy swings him and the brightest light Yoongi has ever seen in his life pours out of his blade. He feels the light slice through the Shadows, including the one that had turned and run. The light pierces through the dark lakeshore all around them and eliminates every shred of darkness. 

Then, as quickly as it came, the light is gone. The Shadows are gone. Yoongi is in his human form on his hands and knees, shaking. What just happened?

“What the fuck did you do?” he gasps. He looks back at the guy, who looks just as panicked as when Yoongi showed up. 

“C-can you tell me where I am?” the guy says, sounding like he’s about to start crying. “I’m so scared, and confused. I was just at the train station, it was morning, and then all of a sudden I’m here and it’s night— oh god, what if I’m on drugs. Someone roofied me. Oh god, I want to snap out of this. Can you find me a hospital? My phone is dead.”

Okay, this guy is nuts. Yoongi groans and rubs at his forehead as he makes his way to his feet. “Come on, we need to get to some shelter before more Shadows show up. You can stay with me until your friend shows up again.”

“My friend?” the guy says. “I’m not— who are you talking about?”

“Whoever was with you to make that light earlier,” Yoongi says. “You’re traveling with someone, right?”

“I’m not here with anyone,” the guy says. “I don’t think so anyway… there were a lot of people at the station, but there was nobody when I ended up here. I wasn’t traveling with anyone. I just ended up here alone. Until you showed up.”

Yoongi shoots the guy with a skeptical look. “So what, you made that light by yourself?” He didn’t realize that was possible. But that’s not the important thing here. “Are you insane? Were you trying to draw the attention of the Shadows? You know you could have gotten yourself killed!”

“I don’t know what’s going on!” the guy says desperately. “This place is so scary, and those monsters started chasing after me, and you turned into a sword! I don’t understand how any of this is happening! I feel like I’m in a movie, and I want to go home!”

Okay, this guy is more nuts than Yoongi initially thought. But between dealing with crazy and dealing with more Shadows, Yoongi would take crazy any day. He sighs, rubs at his eyes, and motions for the guy to follow him.

“You can find your way home after we wait out the Shadows that are bound to come after that light,” he says. “I’m not staying out here any longer. Come on. My place is just over there.”

“Thank you,” the guy says, sounding more subdued. “I’m sorry, I’m just so confused. Thank you for helping me. I don’t know what would have happened if you didn’t show up.” 

Yoongi is pretty sure they’re both aware of what would have happened if he didn’t show up to help.

“My name is Kim Seokjin.”

“Min Yoongi,” Yoongi says. 

“Thank you, Min Yoongi-ssi.”

“Mm-hm.”

Seokjin doesn’t say anything else during the short walk to Yoongi’s place. Yoongi makes sure to shut the door firmly behind him— normally it’s not a problem, the Shadows don’t bother with this place because it’s so dark already. But he can’t be too sure now, after that impossible light Seokjin somehow pulled out of Yoongi.

That’s… that’s something that confuses Yoongi more than anything. He doesn’t know Seokjin. There’s no way there could be enough of a bond between two strangers to draw out that much light. Killing Shadows is next to impossible, and somehow Seokjin did it without Yoongi even realizing it was happening. Yoongi doesn’t even know what kind of light he can produce; he’s never managed anything more than a soft glow in the past. 

Yoongi takes out a spare mat so he and Seokjin can sit on the floor, as far from the door as possible without being on Yoongi’s bed. He’s not that hospitable. Seokjin is looking around a bit uncomfortably.

“Do you have a lamp or a candle?” he says. “I’m sorry, if you prefer the dark, we can stay like this, but I’d rather be able to see your face. I’m still a little— I’m very spooked from those things.”

Yoongi blinks slowly at him. “A candle,” he says slowly. “Like… those things that people used to light on fire.”

“Yes?” Seokjin says. “Um. But, like I said, it’s okay—”

“You’re really not from around here, aren’t you?” Yoongi says. “That, or you have an actual death wish, which I can’t believe, because of how you reacted to the Shadows.” This is so confusing. This guy is acting like he has no idea how the world works. Children know that light is dangerous and how to avoid making it, even before they learn how to speak full sentences. What’s with this guy? How did he end up at the lake in this state?

“Um,” Seokjin says. He pulls his coat closer to his body. That’s another strange thing. He’s dressed in the strangest style Yoongi’s ever seen. He said something about a train. Yoongi knows trains haven’t run since shortly after the sun went dark. They were magnets for Shadow attacks. Even running without lights, the fires in the furnaces would attract dozens of Shadows, who would swarm the engines and tear through the people inside. 

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin says. “If you don’t have anything like that… I didn’t mean to… I’ll just wait until morning and I’ll go and try to find my way home.”

“Morning,” Yoongi repeats. “Seokjin… I don’t know where you’re from, but in this world, there’s no morning.”

Seokjin goes still. “In this world? What are you talking about?”

Yoongi has a suspicion. It’s crazy and impossible, but so is a stranger pulling light like that out of Yoongi with no warning. “Seokjin, can you describe the place where you’re from?”

“It’s… it’s Seoul. I mean, originally I’m from Gwacheon. But I moved to Seoul to train to be an idol. Seoul is a big city. The biggest in Korea. There’s so many people, so much to do. It’s nice, but I miss home sometimes. Gwacheon has some of the most beautiful parks—”

“And you have the sun,” Yoongi interrupts. 

Seokjin nods. “Of course we have the sun. I think the world would freeze into a ball of ice without it.”

Yoongi lets out a shaky breath. “Seokjin, we don’t have the sun here. Wherever you’re from, I can say for sure it’s not here. I don’t know how you got here, but you probably need to learn some things about this place if you don’t want to run into more Shadows and get yourself killed.”

[singinrevelry]

Tagged by @theamazingdearheart​ so here are some questions + answers under the cut!

1. What is the color of your hairbrush?

It’s a wood one, so. light wood colored.

2. A food you never eat?

I won’t eat tuna but that’s because it’s the most severe of the white fish allergy, but most stuff i can eat if i have to? 

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold?

If it is below 60F my hands and toes will be cold, bc bad circulation, but otherwise I’ll be good until it gets in the 30s. If it is above 80F I will be miserably hot XD

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

I was saying bye to a friend of my dad who was dropping off some food she’d baked! 

5. What is your favorite candy bar?

is it chocolate? I will eat it. gimme ALL OF THEM (okay most of them.)

6. Have you ever been to a professional sporting event?

Have I? I honestly may not have. lol

7. What was the last thing you said out loud?

I have already forgotten but it was... something to my mom? we were talking about some stuff about the protests and where I’m watching stuff about it

8. What is your favorite ice cream?

Few things surpass Moose Tracks, and I love a lil mint chop chip. Lots of kinds of ice cream are good, though.

9. What was the last thing you had to drink?

water (wow boring) (hydration is a Challenge)

10. Do you like your wallet?

Yeah actually! It’s technically a card holder but it’s green leather with a knotwork design! 

11. What was the last thing you ate?

pizza

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

I did order a couple shirts a few days ago but was it a weekend? i d e k

13. The last sporting event you watched?

It was almost definitely a figure skating event but idk

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

I was gonna say fancy chocolate but a good cheesy coated popcorn is pretty good

15. Who was the last person you sent a text message to?

my friend Brett who wanted me to join the videochat i was not informed of beforehand

16. Ever go camping?

Lots! Both just with my family and with Girl Scouts.

17. Do you take vitamins?

I DO take a daily multivitamin but that’s it.

18. Do you go to church every Sunday?

*laughs in casual pagan* I haven’t gone to church except for weddings/funerals (and sometimes we go to, like, Christmas, with my grandma) in probably 15 years

19. Do you have a tan?

lol i am v pasty

20. Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza?

why not both though, both are so, so good

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw?

If it’s in a restaurant and it comes with one, sure, otherwise nah

22. What color socks do you usually wear?

i have a lot of black socks bc they look better for work

23. Ever drive above the speed limit?

*does a does-not-drive dance*

24. What terrifies you?

well. a lot right now. I wish I could give a more lighthearted answer, or a more personally specific one, but I don’t have it in me atm

25. Look to your left what do you see?

my water glass, the little desk organizer with pens and pencils and sharpies and scissors and letter openers and stuff, a book i brought home from work, a mask, my wallet, some headphones... and then far to the left, a bookshelf :)

26. What chore do you hate?

LAUNDRY bc I am Incapable of putting clothes away after they are washed

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?

y’know that ‘G’day’ vine

28. What is your favorite soda?

look i love all kinds of ginger ale, but also gotta love that chicago classic, Green River

29. Do you go into a fast food place or just hit the drive through?

Depends, really, on if it’s a STOP to get food or just ‘swing by to get food’

30. Who was the last person you talked to?

My mom

31. Favorite cut of beef?

look i am not a food person i do not know the things

32. Last song you listened to?

My ‘washing the dishes’ music has been cycling through Hanggai, so it was this

33. Last book you read?

I haven’t read much lately but I happened to flip open Read Seas Under Red Skies, to a part I had forgotten, where Locke has to go to Salon Corbeau. It was... distressingly relevant.

The rich remember.

34. Favorite day of the week?

I dunno, Tuesdays are kind of chill for me usually?

35. Can you say the alphabet backwards?

I’m not sure I’ve ever attempted successfully XD

36. How do you like your coffee?

If I’m drinking coffee, it will be sweet and have lots of milk. I will take lots of variations within that. (look I work at what’s practically a starbucks, i’m not terribly picky)

37. Favorite pair of shoes?

oh god I think I’m in between good shoes at the moment, I don’t know, what IS my favorite pair of shoes

I do have a pretty neat pair of cool fun boots and a dope pair of work boots, go stompy, v good

38. At what time do you usually go to bed?

Usually around 1??? what is time I haven’t been able to sleep lately

39. At what time do you normally get up?

somewhere in the realm of 9:30-10

40. What do you prefer - sunrises or sunsets?

Sunsets!

41. How many blankets are on your bed?

uuhhh too many bc i use them both for weight and to prop my feet up, so like 5 but it’s summer so i’m barely using one lol

I like the Nest

42. Describe your kitchen plates?

ooo okay so we have a probably 50 year old set of corelle dishes with flowers on them, they’re great

43. Do you have a favorite alcoholic beverage?

I’m a boring drinker bc I rarely do, my go-to is some kind of cider (bonus it’s in fun berry flavors!) but I’ve discovered a fondness for moscow mules (it’s the ginger).

44. Do you play cards?

We play rummy a lot in my house, and we play for quarters. It’s very serious.

45. What color is your car?

bus colored

46. Can you change a tire?

I have never had to so I’d like to think I could figure it out if necessary buuut

48. Favorite job you ever had?

I haven’t actually had that many jobs, I do rather like what I was doing, in a lot of ways, though the few times I’ve gotten to house/petsit for people has been pretty dope. Chilling in someone else’s house and playing with animals? Heck yeah

49. How did you get your biggest scar?

I was at my cousin’s house in wisconsin, we had kind of finished a water gun fight and I was telling a story and walked right off their pier into the water. I split a bit under my arm on the way down. Gave my aunt a REAL big scare XD

50. What did you do today that made someone happy?

I dunno if making a kind of angry facebook post (about how the absolutely garbage response of CHI authorities is emblematic of the WHOLE PROBLEM PEOPLE ARE PROTESTING ABOUT) that people appreciated counts, but I did do that. I also pulled some weeds and made friends with a robin, which various people appreciated.

[halinski]

Feb 15. The Day After

My... Post-valentine's day fic! I'm super late and I'm super sorry but honestly I didn't think I would be finishing this at all so... Success!!! It's not my best work but this is for a few wonderful people who prompted me, aka

@vibranivmheart

@princecharmingwinks

@c0tt0nstar

@my-son-is-dating-a-werewolf

@sherwhoharryhungerfan

Thank you so much for this, it got me writing and made me feel good about writing!

And also this is for my darling @lokiofasgcrd bc it's her birthday today in her time zone!!!! ❤️ (And I have nothing else for her yet, I feel awfulllll but pssst go wish her a happy birthday!)

It's still the 15th here soooo still the day after so this totally works. Enjoy!

It was a tattoo. That was what Derek had always told everyone. A tattoo to remember his family with - and what he'd done to them. Truth be told, while it still served that purpose - weighing on his shoulder blades like the end of the world - the rest was a lie. The triskele just so happened to be his family's emblem but also, it was his soulmate mark. Appearing in his 18th year of life like an itch, Laura had been the first to notice it, touching his back with trembling fingers and a soft sob. They'd both had the same thought - or at least Derek was convinced - that it was a confirmation of his damnation. He wasn't meant to have a soulmate. His family was his love and he'd killed them.

He'd convinced himself of it. Derek Hale had no soulmate. When he said that people wouldn't believe him at first - everyone had a soulmate - but when they saw his bare chest, arms and back (beside the curved black lines) the disbelieving looks would turn into ones of pity. Birthmarks weren't usually so bold and dark and defined. Oh, poor Derek Hale, fated to be all alone in this world. Yeah, he was. So what? Derek made sure to come off as rough on the edges as he felt so they would think he deserved it and left him alone.

Of course, there was one person who never seemed to get the message. A certain someone who always loved crawling back under Derek's skin no matter how many times he pushed him away. He practically never left.

Derek fully expected Stiles to be behind the door when he opened it, but he'd been so focused on his sugary vanilla scent that he hadn't even noticed Lydia's. Hers was the first face he saw when he opened the door. Then behind her, Stiles.

Stiles and his gorgeous honeydew eyes that pulled him in for eternity and the trails of stardust on his skin.

Stiles.

Stiles, whose gaze dropped down to Derek's bare torso and quickly was averted but not before those cheeks bloomed up in pink oh so deliciously.

Stiles.

Derek had to tear his eyes away from the male at his doorstep and back to the redheaded banshee who was less gentle on Derek, looking him up and down with a smirk. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively. When she had asked when he would he back from his run, he hadn't expected her to come over right away.

"What are you doing here?" Derek pressed out, sounding more hostile than he had intended, even to his own ears. He saw Stiles flinch, and a bitter coating, like blood, settling on his tongue.

"Hot and sweaty. Just how we like our men, huh?" Lydia said, nudging Stiles with a chuckle and completely ignoring Derek as she slipped past him.

"I um... ," Stiles let out a cough and hesitated on following her, eyes flitting around, only meeting Derek's for a fraction of a second - almost as if he was scared. Derek could smell the anxiety wafting off him. The bitter taste weighed heavier.

Derek turned away.

"What do you want?" He asked, trying to focus on Lydia who was making herself at home in his kitchen, rooting the cupboards. But Stiles' heartbeat was the only thing that rang through his ears, every small jump in it alerting Derek to danger - even if the only dangerous thing in proximity was Derek. It drove him crazy sometimes. All the bouncing off the walls, the back and forth, the rise and fall of his emotions. Stiles was… a whirlwind. An endless source of energy, of life. Strong enough to reignite Derek's will to live. And that was saying something.

Anyway- Lydia.

“Oh, you know," the girl closed the cupboard and turned around again, her hair cascading over her shoulder. Not that she had actually done anything with the cupboards, or whatever was in them. Pacing forward dramatically, Lydia placed her palms on the granite counter of the island. And smiled. "I had an idea."

Stiles let out a heavy breath from behind Derek and Derek could only agree with his quiet murmur of, "oh boy."

"You know what day it is today, right?" Lydia asked.

“...Thursday."

“Lydia rolled her eyes. "Not the day of the week, idiot."

Derek frowned. Idiot was his word to use. Usually with Stiles, whose heart beat right now sped up. Derek refused to turn around to check on him.

"It's the 14th," Derek stated, crossing his arms.

“Exactly!" Lydia beamed successfully. "February 14th, aka, Cupid's day." Derek didn't need the reminder. The hearts and pink and red and chocolates had been all over the place for weeks. It's why Derek had been spending more time indoors.

“See, we're all busy today-”

"Lydia," came Stiles soft protest.

“But Stiles here was yapping my ear off about being lonely and all alone on this special day-"

"I never said that!" Stiles burst out somewhere in the background but Lydia carried on undeterred.

"So, of course, I'm calling the gang together to organize a little something. We're going to whip up something quick and sweet for the both of you," Lydia said matter-of-factly.

Derek raised an eyebrow. He was almost afraid to ask. "What does this have to do with me?"

“You deserve something special?, too. Plus, you're free today, so you can keep poor lonely Stiles' company."

“I have things to do," Derek protested, giving her a pointed look. "It's just another day. I don't believe in a commercialized holiday geared towards heteronormativity and capitalism."

“Yeah! What he said!" Stiles followed up. "Derek, I swear, I didn't-"

"See, this is why you two should spend the day together. You're perfect for each other," Lydia said. "You're going to have a lot to talk about." She folded her hands and smiled like she had already won.

Derek kept his face schooled and shook his head. "I don't know what you're up to and I don't care either," he told her. "I'm going to go shower."

Without sparing a glance at the bewildered Stiles, Derek turned and left the room, immediately heading into the bathroom. He went to the shower knob immediately and turned the water on. That didn't drown the voices from the kitchen out though.

“Lydia, what the fuck!"

"I'm just helping you out, what's the big deal?"

“The big deal? The big deal! You're putting both Derek and me in a really awkward position here. We both already know we're like the 7th and 8th wheel in the pack and that we're the only ones left. I don't need you pushing him into any uncomfortable situations. Who knows what Valentine's Day reminds him of..."

“Well, then, it's time to make new memories."

“Lyds, this is stupid. Me and him? That'll absolutely never happen."

“It absolutely could!"

“He doesn't like me like that. And if you can't see that maybe you don't deserve the fields medal in the near future because- because it's obvious. Derek... barely tolerates me."

And Derek doesn't. He can't like Stiles like that. He absolutely does not. Derek Hale isn't made for love, he reminds himself as he leans his forehead against the cold tile, wishing it could numb his brain.

*********

When Derek left the bathroom, Stiles was still there. Sitting on the kitchen counter on his own. He choked on the smoothie he was drinking when Derek walked by.

"I uh... H-hi," Stiles sputtered. Derek appreciated that Stiles averted his gaze from Derek's half-nude form. There was only a towel around his hips shielding him from complete humiliation. Not that Derek technically minded being naked, even in front of people. He just didn't appreciate the sexualization, the objectification.

Whatever Stiles thought he felt for Derek it was probably just that; hormones and physical attraction. It made Derek's facial expression hardened, pulling up the walls around him and challenging the situation.

Stiles' heartbeat clearly sped up as Derek walked over, grabbing a cup and filling it with tap water to drink. Stiles didn't turn to follow Derek's movements but the little droplets sliding from Derek's hair still struck his skin icily.

"Lydia... Made us these, I guess," Stiles said, passing his smoothies from one hand to the next, rolling it between his palms. Derek was ready to watch it slip and fall and shatter. Maybe he was ready to jump over and catch it. He didn't want to think about it. But he did look over to the second serving of the smoothie. Banana and strawberry. His favorite.

"She also, um, took my car keys, so... I'm kind of stuck... Here," Stiles added, clearing his voice. He finally looked up when Derek walked over to grab the second smoothie. But he also kept his gaze on Derek's face, as if calculating, trying to read the silent werewolf's thoughts.

"I didn't plan this," he continued.

It wasn't a lie.

"I mean, Valentine's Day is bullshit, like you said. Why should I feel any different than any other day?" Stiles looked away as he said this. looked down into the pink smoothie that had a strawberry cut out of a heart on top of it. it was... not totally a lie. Stiles was too good at words sometimes for Derek to be able to tell what it meant.

Obviously, the silence from Derek was awkward, because Stiles twitched and shifted on the counter, one leg rhythmically tapping against its side. But Derek didn't know what to say. Couldn't talk, tongue tied.

It was any other day.

“Did you know that Valentine's day-"

"Stiles, you can stay. I don't care," Derek told him as he turned to go to him room so he could get dressed. The words felt wrong in his mouth but it didn't hit Derek until he saw Stiles' shoulders slump just before he left his sight.

"Yeah... Okay," came the quiet reply from behind him. ****

Stiles was acting considerably more normal now that Derek had a shirt back on. Derek wished he could say the same about himself but he really couldn't tell anymore what his own normal was. His perception of himself was kind of skewed. It happened sometimes when your first girlfriend died in your arms, then you get abused by an older woman who kills almost your whole family as a teen, and then your uncle goes crazy and kills your sister so you have to kill your uncle, while taking care of a bunch of teenagers, some of who are freshly bitten. Sometimes Derek wasn't sure he knew left from right anymore.

But right now, Stiles was in his living room, sitting on the couch with Derek's laptop and telling by his soft chuckles listening to something funny and that was calming enough. Though- considering it was Stiles he could also be laughing at something that was not actually average person funny.

Unfortunately, this moment of normalcy, where Derek could revel in the soft content didn't last very long. Stiles looked up only a moment after Derek stopped in his tracks, crossing his arms and training his eyes on the door. He could hear a car pull up downstairs

“It’s the pizza,” Derek guessed uncomfortably, immediately reintroducing the tension into the room. Stiles quickly put up a hopeful grin.

“I mean, can you really say no to free pizza?” he asked, giving Derek a pointed look.

Derek sighed. There was no way he could argue about just how ridiculous this was without bringing up what he didn’t want to talk about, aka the pack’s painfully obvious attempts to try and get the two of them together. Shortly after Lydia had left, Erica and Boyd had appeared, bringing a bunch of chocolates and some rom-com with them, ordered pizza and then pretended a reservation they had been waiting for cleared up all of a sudden. Derek had been able to hear there was no one on the other end of that phone call. He wasn’t an idiot. The one thing he had missed was that one of them had stolen the keys to the camaro as well, so that Stiles actually was stuck here. With Derek. With free pizza and chocolates and a movie. It was turning out to be a date if they wanted it to be or not.

When Derek returned back upstairs with the giant pizza box, Stiles had put the laptop away and was standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room.

“You know, I can leave if you really want me to. I can walk home, it’s not that far. And the pizza, well, it’s not like I can’t order some for myself. You said you have things to do but now you’re just hanging out around here with me but we’re still both doing our own thing and I-” Stiles started but Derek wasn’t going to have him ranting his way out into the cool evening to walk all the way home. He walked past him to set the pizza down.

“I told you, I don’t mind,” Derek said.

“That doesn’t mean you actually want me here,” Stiles pointed out. “I’m totally invading your free time and private space-”

“You’re not walking home.” And before Stiles could open his mouth again, Derek shook his head. “I didn’t actually have anything to do today, I just…”

“You didn’t want anyone bothering you,” Stiles guessed, another wave of unhappiness, discomfort or something, running through him, strong enough for Derek to feel.

“It’s not-” Derek started to argue, but what was he going to say? Was he going to blurt out all his feelings about how he couldn’t have Stiles even if he wanted to? How he might actually yearn for some closeness and warmth and comfort from another person? How he wondered if Stiles had a mark - he had to have it. Everyone had a soulmark and Stiles was 19 by this point. Just, Derek hadn’t seen anything. No one had said anything. Stiles usually wore long sleeves. There was still no way. Stiles had a soulmark and a soulmate that wasn’t Derek. Because Derek didn’t have a soulmate.

And even without that, would it even make sense? He was the Alpha, Stiles was the emissary… that’s just not what their relationship was supposed to be. It was strictly business- well, pack too but. His mother didn’t date Deaton, did she? That would just be weird.

No soulmates.

“It’s not you,” Derek then said, trying to convince himself of it. Stiles wasn’t his soulmate.

“Derek, you really don’t have to-”

“I just… it’s the whole soulmates crap, you know?” he said, without looking over at Stiles, running off to the kitchen to get them plates, napkins and drinks. He continued when he came back, settling down on the couch. “It’s all everyone talks about ever, and then today… literally nothing else in the universe exists. It just gets kinda old when you don’t have a soulmate yourself.”

Derek busied himself with opening the pizza, stopping short when he was faced with a semi-heart shaped blob of grease. He glanced over at the other male, only to find Stiles staring off into the distance with a frown.

“Yeah, no, I get that,” Stiles muttered, a hand rubbing over his chest. A chest, within which a heartbeat made a few extra skips. “I mean, soulmates? Can the universe decide for you who you’re supposed to be with? Unconditional love with random people. That doesn’t happen. Only with family is that a thing. Like my dad. I could kill someone and he’d probably love me.”

Derek refrained from pointing out that new families would start out with couples. He tore his gaze away from Stiles’ red shirt.

“That’s because you wouldn’t kill without reason,” Derek said simply, handing over a plate with a piece of the pizza. Stiles stared at him curiously and Derek didn’t try to figure out what for.

“It’s meat lover’s,” he pointed out about the heart shaped atrocity before him. And Stiles snorted at the irony- because yeah, it was just fucking hilarious-  but he didn’t address what was supposed to be going on here.

The bitter taste in Derek’s mouth returned.

****

It happened when Stiles was changing for bed, Derek having given him some spare clothes to sleep in. No need to organize to get back home at this point, Derek had said. And he could just sleep on the couch, Stiles had added with a shrug. It had gotten late anyway. They had ended up watching the movie as they sat on opposite sides of the couch awkwardly, a ghostly cool vacancy occupying the third seat between them.

But now, Derek was the one with the wild beating heart, rooted to the ground like he had been struck by lightning, his breath catching in his throat.

By the time Stiles had lowered the shirt down over his head and could see Derek again, Derek was gone.

In his room, Derek stood unsure at the side of his bed, trying to stop his thoughts from racing.

It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. He’d seen wrong, he was dreaming. He… The press of claws into his palm pricked and stung and Derek exhaled.

He knew what he had seen, the soft brown moles, splattered over Stiles’ breastbone, grouped together closely to form a swirling mark. A clear mark. Three swirls. A triskele to match the charred coal one on Derek’s back.

**********

Naturally, Derek couldn’t sleep. Here Valentine’s Day had come and passed, he’d found out Stiles had a mark that looked just like his own and yet he had done nothing. He lay in bed, limbs heavy with panic and fear, but mind racing with the need to act.

Because Stiles.

Maybe Stiles could actually be his. And just that possibility made it feel impossible to be here without him. It wasn’t right. It was…

He had to do something.

Stiles himself had been tossing and turning on the couch. It wasn’t a comfortable couch, Derek had told him that right away.

Derek stood.

“Stiles,” he said, popping up at the doorway. “Take the bed.”

Stiles turned to him. “I’m not going to steal your bed from you.”

“We can both fit.”

“But- it’s your bed… and my scent-”

“You’re keeping me up.” Derek was glad that Stiles’ didn’t share the same powers of playing lie detector.

“Oh.”

After a minute or so, Stiles rose, and lifted the blanket with him at first, than stopped- before deciding to take it with him after all. He sheepishly walked past Derek into the bedroom. He halted before getting on the bed.

“Are you-”

“Get in the bed, Stiles.”

“You know I never thought I would be hearing that from you, concerning your bed,” Stiles said as he obeyed, shuffling under the covers.

Derek couldn’t tell what he was actually smelling and what was just wishful thinking.

“Shut up, Stiles. Or there won’t be any cuddling.”

Stiles coughed. There was definitely a flourish of emotion drifting over from Stiles as Derek settled between the sheets again. A scent that was exciting and comforting at the same time. Like an adventure leading home. Derek fought himself not to lie on his side and face Stiles. He turned the other way and closed his eyes. It was comforting to find that he was unbothered by the fact that Stiles could stab him in the back while Derek was unprotected, but he trusted him not to.

“Asshole,” Stiles said softly. His voice was fond.

Derek smiled.

*******

He felt the pull first, before he woke. Then the warmth, vibrating through him, from the middle of his back, along his shoulders, around his waist. And… Stiles. It was his scent, his body pressed against his, a grounding arm holding him close.

Derek let his eyes drift open into the early morning haze. He could feel Stiles' soft skin beneath his fingertips and he looked down at the arm that kept him safe. It had been half an eternity since he'd felt so whole, so unbroken.

It took him a while to understand the warm, fulfilling feeling but the revelation soon sank into his bones with a guest of happiness. He was anchored. Through Stiles' heartbeat, through his triskele-adorned chest, through to Derek's marked back and enstrengthened spine, all the way through to his heart.

And Derek knew this was where he meant to be, safe and protected by Stiles, his trusted and loyal emissary, his mate.

****

Derek was still in the kitchen when Stiles started to stir. His heartbeat tripped over itself as he tried to hurry to but the cinnamon toast together, nicely presented on Derek's finest plate (though in an amateur way).

"Come on, come on," he urged the coffee machine, as if he would succumb to his pleading, while he shifted on his feet and glanced toward the bedroom. Fresh cinnamon toast, two mugs of coffee, and the chocolates that Derek grabbed from the bag Erica had brought soon adorned a tray Derek had surprisingly found in his kitchen. And he reminded himself to walk slowly and calmly as to not spill anything. Despite what Stiles believed werewolves were not exempt from clumsiness. Derek had broken glasses and a vase or two, plus a window once, in his time.

To say he was nervous about confronting Stiles after their impromptu unconscious nightly cuddle session was an understatement. Probably because what he was getting at was that they might be mates- were mates.

Oh boy, this was going to be a ride. But life was always a rollercoaster of surprises with Stiles. Good thing Derek liked rollercoasters.

He took a breath and entered the room, drawing Stiles' attention from the phone he was checking on the bedside table. Stiles sat up in surprise.

"Is that… you made me… breakfast in bed?" He asked, mouth hanging open.

Derek shrugged as best as he could and smiled sheepishly. Stiles' mouth fell open wider.

"Happy Valentine's day?" He tried, miming the writing on the heart-shaped box of chocolates, setting down the try on Stiles' lap and anxiously clasping his hands together behind his back.

"It's not Valentine's day," Stiles pointed out, gaping at the display in front of him before turning his stare at Derek again.

Derek could feel not only his ears but also his cheeks starting to burn.

"Well, I fucked up that opportunity yesterday so I'm hoping to make up for it today… Happy day after Valentine's day?"

"Wha… why?" Derek could see Stiles' Adam's apple work, could see the hope in his eyes, sense his fear. He sat down on the bed at Stiles' side.

"Because I've been an idiot," Derek sighed. He grabbed the hem of his shirt to pull it off, showing Stiles the black spiraled design he knew so well. "It's not a tattoo."

Derek was too afraid to look at Stiles but could hear the soft exhale that came from the other male when he understood. A second later, there was a soft touch, triggering an exploding warmth from the center of Derek's back, a tingling shudder running through him.

"It's your soulmark," Stiles whispered and Derek looked up to meet his eyes in confirmation, feeling the connection spreading as Stiles' palm settled against his skin.

"I have… it's," he started, then pulled away as he struggled to dispose of his own shirt.

"I know," Derek said softly, gaze falling onto the soft dotted triskele on Stiles' chest. He followed the rising blush up to Stiles' face. "I saw it last night."

Stiles' lips quirked up.

"That's why the whole bed and breakfast in bed thing," he said cheekily. "You're wooing me."

Derek really should have expected for Stiles to find amusement in this. No matter that they were mates and Derek just wanted to treat him nice.

"It's working," he countered with his own smirk. "You took your shirt off for me." Stiles huffed and crossed his arms as if to shield himself from Derek's gaze.

"You took your shirt off first."

"Yeah, but you've never taken your shirt off in front of anyone else." Derek could only hope Stiles could hear the appreciation in his voice, because he knew his emissary despite all his cuteness - and tremendous power - was horribly self-conscious. No matter the mask he put up.

The food and coffee hadn't been touched yet, both of their interests elsewhere, so Derek moved the tray to the side and scooted closer. Stiles watched him, shifting forward  as he did so, hands falling into  his lap. Derek reached over to take one of them lightly, cradling it in both of his, and it was almost like he could feel Stiles' happiness flutter through to him.

Stiles' scent spiked with nervousness as Derek's gaze fell to the soft curve of his lips.

"I'm going to kiss you now," Derek declared, "but only if you want me to." Stiles was nodding before Derek had even finished his sentence. "Yes. Yes, I want you to."

It wasn't fireworks and lightning when their lips met but all pieces fell into place and life's puzzle was solved and solidified. Derek could have stayed there forever, gazing into Stiles' eyes, feeling his soft breath against his lips, that still tingled. Talk about post-kiss bliss.

But of course, the pack always had to find a way to get involved. A knock rang out a few seconds before the loft door rolled open with a squeak and Isaac's voice rang out.

"Hello? We uh- we haven't heard from either of you so the pack made me check in and see if… if, uh.."

"We're busy, Isaac," Derek said with an unhappy grunt.

"Don't kill me, I drew the short straw! And you know how scary Erica can be!"

"Isaac," Stiles interjected loudly. "I'm about to lay down that wood. And I don't care if you're here to hear it or not so…"

Derek covered his face and groaned, while Isaac squawked and tripped out the door again. Stiles just laughed. Derek waited till Isaac's quiet cursing was out of ear shot before he looked up again.

"I'll have you know that you're not getting in my pants on the first date," he told Stiles, who continued chuckling.

"Bummer," he replied offhandedly, but his eyes spoke only of happiness. "How about another kiss."

"Mh, that's still pretty demanding." Derek pulled a face and Stiles rolled his eyes.

"I don't know how wooed I am just yet, you know," Stiles warned Derek.

"Give me a day and then let's talk."

Stiles hummed appreciatively. "One day. Then there'll be evaluations. You've got one chance, Sourwolf. Pass or Fail. This is the test."

"You're so ridiculous," Derek complained, while a smile tugged at his lips.

"Hm. I'm not sure I like the sound of that. That'll be ten minus points on the record. You don't woo people by insulting them. Now that's just science."

"Shut up so I can woo you."

"Minus 20 points! This is not a good development. Not at all. You know you were doing good with offering the bed and then presenting br-"

Derek saw no other choice but to occupy Stiles' mouth with another kiss, this one longer, still gentle, but with more feeling. Stiles looked dazed when he pulled back.back.

"50 plus points," Stiles said quietly, cheeks blooming.

"Aaaand open up," Derek said, guiding a piece of cinnamon toast to Stiles' lips, who gladly took a bite of the bread.

He chewed and swallowed, beaming, like the sun to Derek's moon that he was.

"I should call you cheesewolf," Stiles teased. "You're so cheesy."

Derek let him take another bite before he retaliated. "Just looking for ways to shut you up," he said innocently.

Stiles nudged him with a playful glare. "Asshole," he muttered, mouth full.

"Idiot," Derek said fondly.

"You're a total romantic at heart. You're a secret cuddler. Cuddled with me all of last night even though you said you wouldn't."

Derek snorted. "That's just because you were being clingy." That was a total lie and he couldn't look Stiles in the eyes for it.

"Nah," Stiles said offhandedly, a thoughtful look forming on his face as he grabbed Derek's hand to intertwine their fingers. "It's because you belong in my arms."

And yeah, Derek had finally found home again.

[ryncorrect]

university!au: day6 jae

following my uni!au with young k (idk how to link my own post asbajdnskmd im Dumb) so here another one with jae lol i think im gonna make one for each one of them buttttttt no promise bc my brain works in a very mysterious way LOL

anyway leggo

warning: this is lame lmaooooo

name: park jaehyung / jae

major: politic science

other activities: guitarist (and sometimes vocalist) of university band, member of music club, founder and leader of LOL SQUAD

everyone knows that tall skinny guitarist of the band i mean he’s hard to ignore tbh

he always wears loose T-shirt, ripped jeans, a cap that he puts backward, and round big specs to campus

professors hate his ripped jeans but can’t really say anything because oh well style doesn’t define someone’s grades and boy, does this kid actually get some braincells in him

well i mean at least he never fails his classes

he has this giant LOLSQUAD badge on his backpack because he’s proud af of his title as the club founder and leader

he actually started that club so he could to brag about his gaming skill to everyone who wanted to listen but he ends up getting his ass handed to him every single time they play together smh

if he’s not in class or hanging out with his game buddies, he can be seen following that Popular Student™ kang younghyun or as jae prefers to call him, “brian” or “brIBRI” because they both joined music club and are in the band

yes yes he’s well known and easy to spot

but…

“jae? park jaehyung?? who???”

everyone refers to him as “that foreigner student”, “the American guy” or “the gamer guy”, or my favorite: “chicken little”

i will never let that joke die im sorry but seriously he looks like chicken when he plays his guitar on the stage don’t @ me

there are only like 5 students in the whole university who know his actual name

anyways in this scenario you’ve always been interested in playing guitar but haven’t gotten a chance to learn and your friend kim wonpil invites you to join music club so you’ll have friends to practice with

“you know our jaehyungie, right? he’s really chill, you’ll get along well with him!!”

deep inside you’re like

who the heck is jaehyung

but wonpil is so excited to have you there so the next week you come to the club meeting

you introduce yourself to everyone and finally you meet him

“ohmygod the chicken little!!”

“whO THE HECK ARE YOU CALLING THAT”

“sorry- i mean the chicken guitarist- wait no-”

he glares at you, you laugh instead

scaring the new member challenge: failed

but yeah you’d seen him performing before and honestly you almost decided to become his fan

a l m o s t

at first he (jokingly) refuses to teach you guitar because you called him chicken little

and since then you keep calling him that just to mess with him

“hi chicken little”

“what’s poppin chicken little”

“why do you look so flustered, chicken little? do i make you nervous??”

he turns red chicken little is now an angry bird “gO AWAY NEWBIE YOU’RE SO ANNOYING”

jae’s a foreigner but he speaks fluent korean

he tells you that even though he was born and grew up in america he always speaks the language with his parents

but of course since he lives abroad there are lots of words or slang he doesn’t know, so you gotta be an ass and slip some difficult words when you speak to him

he gets his revenge by replying to you in english

whenever you two are having an argument (usually over stupid things) everyone in the club suddenly gets headache

wtf they’re not even making any sense

besides music, jae is the most excited when talking about LOL or social topics because well his major

honestly idk much about politic science so cmiimw

one time someone asks for his opinion about social welfare and he ends up starting a sudden debate session with the said person about social welfare programs in south korea and america and the difference between both countries

you mention human rights and he sNAPS

i mean he gives a full 15 mins speech about it

“yknow what im sayin?”

“dude… i honestly don’t get it at all”

because he be speaking in full english like wat

he’s just so passionate about everything it’s almost adorable

a l m o s t

and it’s not only his passion but also his small eyes, his laugh, his voice, or the way he occasionally lifts his head to look at you while playing guitar and you smile and he smiles because you smile first shnshsbshs soft

even the corners of his lips are so cute wow

oh fuck im emo i love him

but you adore him just as a good friend

he’s always been bubbly and friendly with everyone, not just you, so yeah it’s really easy to fall for him but you assure yourself that you’re nOT

are we having “in denial” shit again omg im so uncreative

anyway fast forward it’s ur birthday!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYYY

you decide to throw a small party at your place and invite 5 or 6 of your closest friends but damn on the d-day it rains so hard

if ur bday falls on winter then change it to snowing hard, if it’s spring then maybe there’s strong wind or something, whatever suits you fam lol

so no one comes to your party lol you are Sad

BUT THEN!!!! JAE SHOWS UP!!!!!

PARK JAEHYUNG

OUT OF ALL PEOPLE

no you didn’t invite him because idk

are we really that close??? ehhhh he probably won’t come anyway haha why bother

BUT!!!! HE SHOWS UP!!! IN FRONT OF YOUR DOOR!!!

he’s carrying an umbrella but it didn’t really help apparently because he’s soaking wet

imagine that view i mean nvm

“i happened to be near here and i remember it’s your birthday today so i think i’m gonna drop by to say hi and suddenly it’s raining too hard on the way but anyway happy birthday can you let me in first i’m cold”

ofc you let jae in i mean we can’t let the chicken catch the flu amirite

but you warn him that he’ll have to leave before 11 or your RA will kick you both out the dorm lol

after a towel, two cups of hot tea, and one shared piece of chocolate cake, you told him you were supposed to have a small party tonight but no one could make it because of the rain and he’s like “hOW DARE YOU HAVING A PARTY BUT NOT INVITING ME I THOUGHT WHAT WE HAD WAS SPECIAL” and you’re just like “lol shut up chicken here eat more cake”

anyways you two spend time joking and talking about random stuff and it’s probably not the best birthday ever but at least you don’t have to spend it alone and to be honest you’re happy that he’s here

then jae pulls out his ultimate weapon

i mean his guitar

he was soaking wet but the guitar is clean and dry and all fine like hoW EVEN

“priorities” -park jaehyung

he said he gonna play a song of your choice because he came empty handed and he feels bad about it

you blush and pick whatever song comes to your mind because you can’t really think of any, and he starts strumming his guitar and sings

and while he keeps looking at you, you find yourself too can’t take your eyes off him

the song ends and you’re about to clap your hands when he suddenly starts another one

wait you’ve never heard this song before

it’s a slow song and the lyrics are all like, the sky turns dark on the birthday of the brightest star so that it’ll be the only light in his world, how he feels regretful that he has nothing to give but his small heart, and he hopes that this lovely person will hold his hand as they listen to this song together, that this lovely person will feel warm beside him

guys just imagine the song okay i can’t Romance

it’s dead silent until you whisper, “is that… a song for me?”

jae’s face turns red and he starts panicking™ like “i made up the lyrics just now okay i know it’s fricking sappy and cheesy as hell okay i just uhhh want to cheer you up!!!! because you seem kinda down!!!!! let’s not talk about this again uGh WhatEvER leT Me LIvE!!!!!”

but you chuckle and thank him, it was the best present you can get from anyone

you two stare at each other for a second that feels like years and he finally breaks the silence, “you know,,, maybe i came here on purpose,,, maybe actually i want to see you,,,”

“and why is it?”

“because i think,,, i miss you,,, kinda”

and you don’t say this out loud but maybe you do know that

even if you say you’ll never

in fact you’ve already fallen for him a bit

or perhaps a lot

like a lot

then he leans in to kiss your lips and you kiss back and it’s almost not awkward at all, it just feels right as if you’ve kissed him million times before

a l m o s t

you two still blush real hard after

but yeah that’s how you two start dating

none of you two tell anyone about it but it’s pretty obvious, i mean jae always picks you up at your dorm, he walks with you to your class or vice versa (if your classes don’t overlap tho), you two keep stealing glances at each others, also—

jae with you: “hey,,,, come here sit with me u3u,,,,, did you have lunch??? oh i wrote a song last night check this out,,,, what are you gonna do this saturday? oml you’re so cute”

jae with everyone else: “HAHAHAHA FUCKING FUCK SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING PRICK ALSO BRIAN FUCKING KANG IF YOU STEAL MY FUCKING FRIES AGAIN I WILL LITERALLY SNAP YOUR FUCKING NECK”

welp actually he’s not always sweet with you, sometimes you two still argue about silly things using mixed languages but now everyone in the club knows better to just run away once it begins

because it’ll end up with you two fighting or you two kissing

yes im nasty and a disappointment bye

btw wonpil is excited af it’s almost like he’s dating you both

“it’s really nice seeing you two finally together!!!!!!! especially because jaehyung really couldn’t shut up about you ever since the first day you joined our music club”

“wait wha-”

“YOU SNAKE THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET FUCK OFF”

I’m so in love with park jaehyung y'all hsnshsbsh aNYWAYS!!! 100 blocks limit has lifted from tumblr app AYEEEEE

[artificialqueens]

Run My Mouth (Monet x Monique)- Ortega

a/n: i actively refuse to type the word Momo into existence bc i refuse to associate that fucking horrendous face with these cute af idiots. this is my entry to the fic challenge bc someone wanted Monet x Monique and i wanted out of the Branjie emotion pit! this is filling the cliches 3 (enemies to lovers) and 7 (A has a sexy dream about B) and also is of course a lesbian au bc that seems to be the only currency i deal in. it’s also set within the Just The Game We’re In universe if anyone’s interested, and is also probably horrendously ooc. christ i’m good at selling my fics!! credit where credit’s due, the “holy trinity of why” was stolen from The Thick Of It, the song on Monique’s insta story is Own It by Ella Mai, and “panini head” is stolen from Gordon Ramsay. hope u all enjoy!

Summary: Guardian journalist Monet X Change arrives at the Ministry of Defence to run a piece on Shea Coulee. She didn’t expect to be distracted by a bad-tempered band 1 comms girl who seems intent on driving Monet to distraction entirely through sarcastic remarks, tattoos and acrylic nails.  

***

Journalism. What did it all actually mean? When it came down to it, all it was was writing about stuff that happened in the world. All it was was retelling a story. But then nobody ever really seemed to view it that way, Monet thought to herself, as she scuffed one high heel against the rough, sandpaper-like carpet of the lobby and continued to wait.

It was never as simple as just writing, though. Fuck, if that was all journalism was then how many horrific atrocities could have been avoided just through the lack of coverage and platforming alone? There was always an agenda to push despite Monet’s personal feelings on the situation, and she always just had to put up and shut up. For example, today. What Monet really should have been writing about was the Ministry of Defence’s catastrophic overspend, but someone high up in the party (probably Bianca Del Rio, Monet reasoned) had made some sort of deal with Bob to avoid excessive coverage of it. This surprised Monet as, before she’d started working at The Guardian, Bob had been part of Phi Phi O’Hara’s party as their press secretary. Still, even if Monet didn’t know the finer details of how politics worked she knew what a threat or a bribe looked like, so instead of writing about anything juicy or remotely interesting she was here, in the offices of the MOD, waiting on Shea Coulee. Bob had sent Monet out to do some private life piece, some sort of day-in-the-life of a department minister thing that was set to last for a fortnight. Shea would hate it as it meant Monet would be exposed to all sorts of potential party fuck-ups. Monet would hate it because it was a bunch of writing which was of absolutely no consequence. The Guardian’s readers would hate it because it was an article attempting to humanise a politician, and Monet knew people hated those, so there it was. The hat trick of fuck.

She waited dispassionately in the lobby, her heels swinging and scuffing the carpet with every passing second. She didn’t know how long she’d been doing it, or how many times, but there suddenly came a voice from one end of the corridor.

“‘Scuse me, ma'am.”

She didn’t turn around at first. In all honesty, Monet’s ego meant that she thought that anyone in the building would be addressing her by her last name, with a Ms. in front of it. So she kept swinging and scuffing.

The sound of heels came down the corridor. “Ma'am!”

Monet whipped her head around, slightly startled at the louder sound. She was met with a girl- early twenties, she would guess, in a smart black pencil skirt and suit jacket combination with a bright white shirt underneath. Her black hair was pinned up in a neat bun with a few strands helping her fringe frame her face, which was currently set into a scowl. Monet initially thought the girl was there to take her to Shea, however seeing the tray of coffees she was carrying made her second-guess. She frowned up at her from her position on the small sofa-lounger-thing she had been perched on. Monet’s back was already up and she hadn’t even said two words to her.

“Yes?”

The girl’s scowl deepened. “Are you aware that this is a ministerial department?”

Monet bit back a laugh. “Yes.”

“So you know that if you’re waiting here, you can’t sit and wear the carpet out like a pacing bear in a zoo, correct?” a smile finally came over the girl’s face, albeit a fake one. Monet briefly noted her eye makeup- bright and extravagant, a bit much for a day at work but still pretty and expertly applied. She decided to return the fake smile.

“Well thank you so much for that advice! I’m always really keen for pointers on office decorum by girls that look like their makeup was done by a blind toddler playing with dried up poster paints. Now,” Monet sighed lazily, pleased at the way the girl’s jaw had visibly dropped. “can you please make yourself useful and find me somebody that works for Shea Coulee? Because I’ve been waiting here a while.”

The other girl’s face was stony as she addressed her. “I work for Shea Coulee.”

Monet’s heart bunjee-jumped into the pit of her stomach. Shit. Okay, fuck, she didn’t need to panic. She was still holding the coffee tray, so that clearly didn’t indicate a senior position. The other girl’s face was set into a shit-eating smile, clearly happy to have scared her. This only served to rile Monet further. “Well, could you please check that she’s ready to see me? I’m Monet Change, I’m from The Guardian. I’m doing a piece with Ms. Coulee.”

The other girl narrowed her eyes in distaste. Monet noticed that they were deep brown, making them seem huge. “You got an ID?”

Monet rolled her eyes. Briefly, she cast an eye to the girl’s hand. “Are the office coffees not getting cold, tea girl?”

The girl looked briefly as if she’d been slapped in the face. Monet snorted. This was fun. She watched as the girl looked nervously down the corridor, then at the drinks in her hand. Monet almost felt sorry for her, until the girl frowned at her again.

“We’re living under a severe and constant terror threat, Ms. Change, and precautions are precautions,” she pouted, her face like vinegar. She held her hand out and Monet cast an eye over a set of neon green acrylic nails. With a small jump to her heart, she noticed that the nails on her index and middle finger were cut shorter than the others. She looked up at the girl and caught her eye. Another fake smile came her way. “ID.”

“Well how should I know you even work for Shea Coulee? Where’s your ID?” Monet answered back, taking far too much delight in the way the other girl pouted before taking her free hand and sticking her middle finger up in Monet’s face.

“There’s my ID, bitch! Do you want me to go get Ms. Coulee or not?”

“Monique, what the hell are you doing?” came a sudden voice from up the corridor, making the girl jump. A little splash of coffee jumped out from under the lid and landed on her wrist, and Monet didn’t miss the way she hissed a little through her teeth. She felt bad. Turning her eyes up the corridor, Monet saw who the voice was coming from- real and in-person Shea Coulee, with her neat dreads cascading down her shoulders and back and over her red shift dress. She radiated power, and Monet felt suddenly intimidated. The girl opened her mouth to speak, but Shea simply raised a hand and gave a light shake of her head. “I think you’d better get back to the office, don’t you? I don’t think any of us ordered an iced latte.”

The girl nodded sharply and walked briskly down the corridor, but not before she gave one final look to Monet that was mixed with anger, annoyance, and something else she couldn’t quite decipher.  

“Ms. Change, isn’t it?” Shea turned back to Monet and held out her hand, smiling as she took it to shake. “Pleased to meet you, I’m excited to be working with you. I have to apologise for Monique’s behaviour, she’s a complete hothead and she shouldn’t even have been interacting with you.”

Monique. It was a nice name.

Monet picked up her bag as Shea began walking down the corridor, quickening her pace to follow her which was tricky in her heels. “So uh, she’s not one of your advisors?”

Shea snorted a laugh. “Please. She’s a junior civil servant. You’ll meet my advisors, they’re just in the office.”

Monet thought for a moment. “So I don’t really need to interact with Monique at all during my time here then?”

“Oh, no. Don’t worry about that. You’re not going to be in with the little people,” Shea dismissed her with a wave of her hand as she walked into the bright and airy office space.

Good. It was good that she wasn’t going to be seeing Monique. Following Shea through to her office, Monet’s eyes scanned the room and somehow came to rest on Monique’s brown ones. Monique blinked once in surprise, then gave Monet a nasty look.

She was a total bitch, anyway.

***

Day five, and the end of week one. Monet would be lying if she said the whole thing was as boring as she’d thought it would be. Sure, the actual writing itself was boring. It turned out that a private life piece on Shea Coulee at work unsurprisingly consisted of Shea Coulee doing lots of work. Monet had met her advisors, Asia and Vixen, and they were nice enough girls but they were there to work too. So in lieu of anything interesting to do, Monet had had to invent her own fun.

Which consisted of annoying Monique.

It hadn’t started out like that, Monet always defended herself internally. She’d tried to make amends with her on the first day- stopped by her desk on the way out and asked her how her wrist was, but all she was met with was a wordless sneer. The next day, Monet had made a point of saying good morning to her, again met with no reply. She’d then complimented her hair when she came to Shea’s office to ask about a press release, but the only reply Monet got was a flip of it. So after that, the gloves were off. Monique had had three strikes, and now the bitch was out.

Monet could have just ignored Monique. That would have been the mature thing to do. But something about the girl had got under her skin and niggled away at her, like an annoying splinter. Plus Monet was competitive, and there was a need to get even.

On Tuesday, Monet got teas and coffees for the whole comms team apart from Monique. She didn’t miss the widening of Monique’s eyes then the disappointed pout that followed when she realised there was nothing for her. It made Monet’s skin prickle in satisfaction.

On Wednesday, Monet came into the department and walked up to Monique’s desk. She made sure Monique had locked eyes with her, made to smile at her, then fixed her eyes very pointedly on her cheek and frowned deeply, feigning concern as she walked away. She cast a glance at Monique over her shoulder as she walked away, who was furiously checking her reflection in her phone screen.

Yesterday, they had both been in the kitchen together. Monet had been grabbing a fork for her lunch when Monique had walked in, her eyes darkening upon seeing Monet. Monet felt a slight curl in her stomach when the other girl brushed past her and reached for a teabag, a rich, woody scent clinging to her like the black dress she was wearing.

“Morning, Monique,” Monet smiled, leaning against the countertop and smiling. “Hey, how are Cerberus and Hades this morning?”

Monique cast her a glare. She spoke after a beat of silence. “I don’t follow.”

“Guardians of the underworld?” Monet elaborated, receiving a tight smile in return.

“Oh, cute. Contemporary reference,” Monique bit back, reaching up to take a mug from a cupboard. “Should you not be, you know. Writing? Like an actual journalist? Are you an actual journalist or just a child pretending to be a journalist?”

“As opposed to you, who’s a child pretending to be…an adult?” Monet blinked, delighting in the way Monique visibly tensed up.

“Jesus, I can’t wait til you leave,” she muttered, Monet able to hear the eye roll in her voice. She gave a chuckle.

“Well get used to me, princess, because I’m here til next Friday,” Monet beamed at Monique as she turned around, her gaze frosty and making Monet shiver a little.

“I’m not your princess,” she said, her voice low and dark and giving Monet a small heart palpitation. With a sudden flashback to their Monday meeting, Monet remembered the nails on Monique’s right hand. A shiver ran down her spine.

“No, you’re right,” Monet said, dropping the pitch of her voice to match Monique’s. She took a step forward, closing the space between them. “You’re a little brat.”

Monique’s eyes bored into hers. There seemed to be something hanging in the air. After what could have been seconds or minutes, Monique scrunched up her face and spun around on her heel, leaving Monet on her own in the kitchen.

Monet had gone home and replayed their little confrontation in her head on repeat. It especially taunted her just before she was about to fall asleep, when she was lying in bed in the darkness with a dull throb between her legs that she tried her best to ignore. Monique was attractive, that was just a fact. She had a beautiful face and a little tiny waist and the most amazing legs, and when she wore short sleeved tops Monet could see the tattoos that went all the way up her arms, and she’d always been into tattoos. But Monique was also a total dick. So why was that so hot to her?

Monet found herself turning over in bed, switching the light on, grabbing her phone and typing xvideos into her search bar.

The next day everything seemed to be even more charged between the two girls, although that could have been Monet’s imagination. From the moment she walked into the department she had felt Monique’s eyes on her like a trained sniper, a blush hitting her cheeks that stayed there for most of the morning to the extent that Shea had asked her if she was feeling alright. Monet could hardly concentrate on the departmental she was sat in and was glad of the recorder she’d utilised to catch the meeting, because the only thought that seemed to run through her head was how do I get her alone again?

It turned out she didn’t have to wait very long. Monet was taking a phone call from Bob and she’d ducked into one of the small stationary cupboards to talk to her when Monique came in halfway through, her face curling up when she saw her. Monet’s heart gave a leap and, finding an excuse to finish the phone call earlier than needed, she pocketed her phone and turned to the other girl.

“Looking for some relevance?” Monet asked as she watched Monique bend down and open a cardboard box. The other girl narrowed her eyes at her as she stood up.

“Leave me alone, Monet. I’m serious,” she snapped, Monet crossing her legs together where she stood. Fuck, she could be bossed about like this all day.

“Oh, we on first name terms now? I’m a guest in your department, you should be addressing me properly,” Monet folded her arms and leaned back against the shelves behind her. Monique snorted and quirked a smile.

“Of course, Ma'am. I’m so sorry! Would you prefer Bitch, or Ms. Bitch?” she smiled sweetly. Monet couldn’t help but run her tongue over her bottom lip and then bite it softly, and she didn’t miss the way Monique’s eyes darted to it or the way her stare faltered.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be throwing around that word so casually, Monique, especially since I’m working with your boss.”

“Why are you doing this?!”

Monet exhaled. “Because I’m bored, it’s funny, and I hate you. There you go. The holy trinity of why.”

Then Monet got a shock as Monique suddenly took a step towards her, closing the gap between them in the already tiny cupboard, and if Monet leaned forward she would be able to feel Monique’s body against hers. Her eyes were dark as she scowled at her. “You think you can just walk into this department with your perfect hair and your perfect outfits and your perfect body and just talk shit to everyone after a week?”

Monet held back a gasp as Monique’s expression faltered, almost as if she’d given something away that she shouldn’t have. Her heart gave a jump. She’d really just said all that? Monet touched her caramel curls self-consciously. She looked at Monique from under her lashes. “I don’t talk shit to everyone, just you.”

Monique’s harsh stare was back. “Well you better stop.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll do something I regret,” Monique hissed. Monet blinked. It was so hard to read the situation. She couldn’t tell if Monique was genuinely threatening her, but she seemed to have got closer because Monet could feel the heat of her body just millimetres away from her own. She swallowed thickly. Just then she noticed Monique’s eyes dart quickly from her eyes to her lips and back up again. It made her decision for her.

“Dare you, princess.”

Quicker than Monet could blink, Monique had suddenly closed the minute gap between them, pressed her body up against Monet’s own, and was kissing her with more passion than she’d ever been kissed with before in her life. It was as if Monique’s lips were made of fire, and Monet moaned as she felt her hands tear roughly through her hair. Monet was so stunned that she was almost unable to kiss back, until she felt Monique suck gently on her tongue and lust flood through her whole body. Monet brought her hands, which had been resting on Monique’s waist, up to cup her jaw. Monique noticed the movement and Monet’s heart thudded quickly as she felt Monique take one of her hands in hers, lace their fingers together, and move it from her face down to-

“Monique! You still in there? I found a bunch of staples in the top drawer of- oh,” came a voice- one of the other comms girls, Monet recognised. With a speed that she didn’t think it was possible to move at, she leapt back from the other girl and thanked God that the comms girl on the other side of the door’s entry to the cupboard had been stopped by a huge box full of spiral-bound notebooks that Monique had moved to get better access to what she was looking for.

Monique ran her tongue over her lips and cast her eyes to the floor as she spoke. “Oh, thanks Vanessa! I’ll be out in two seconds, just need a couple more things.”

Monet hadn’t realised she was holding her breath until she released it when she heard the girl walking away down the corridor. Keeping her face neutral, she looked at Monique whose cheeks were dark pink and her eyes embarrassed.

“I should, uh,” Monet began, moving to the door in an effort to ease the awkward tension that had been created.

“Yeah, sure,” Monique nodded furiously, rubbing her forehead with one hand and averting her gaze. Without a second glance, Monet was out the cupboard and walking briskly up the corridor and back onto the meeting room she’d left when she originally took the phone call. Sitting back down in her seat, she was pleased that Shea was already talking so that nobody needed to acknowledge her arrival.

Just when she thought she was off the hook, Asia turned to her and murmured. “Girl, where the fuck did you take that phone call? A hedge?”

She declined to reply.

***

Monet walked into the department on Monday with a cocktail mixer of excitement, nerves, trepidation and readiness being shaken up in her stomach. Her mind had been a complete mess all throughout the rest of Friday, and Monique seemed to have been good at avoiding her because she hadn’t seen her at all for the rest of the day. So Monet had gone home at the end of the day with her head in a spin, her hair still a complete mess, and a burning need to be absolutely railed. She wasn’t able to stop herself from scrolling instagram when she was alone in her flat with a glass of wine, and her fingers were typing in Monique’s full name (which hung on the nametag around her neck each day) before she could stop herself. She found her instantly, and a guilty feeling built in Monet’s stomach as she found herself looking through the girl’s page, gorgeous selfie after gorgeous selfie making her stomach flip over and her palms grow hot. Suddenly, she saw the circle around Monique’s profile picture turn pink. Her thumb hovered over it, unsure if she wanted to graduate to full-blown instagram stalker creep status. Well, she’d come this far.

A mirror selfie of Monique filled the screen, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders and out of the ponytail it had been in earlier. She was smiling, and Monet found herself wishing she had that smile directed at her more often. With a pang she noticed that the wine in Monique’s glass was red, matching the crimson liquid in her own glass. As if she was afraid of being caught, Monet tapped off the story and buried her phone underneath one of her couch cushions.  

On Saturday, Monet met with her friend Bri for coffee, which was probably a good thing as it would serve to distract Monet from the dream she’d had last night of Monique, perched up on her desk in a black lace bodysuit and high heels talking in extremely explicit detail about what she wanted Monet to do to her. Meeting with Bri would stop her from lying in bed in her own filth masturbating herself into oblivion and obsessively checking Monique’s instagram like a complete loser. On the other hand, all Bri seemed to want to talk about was some French politician she’d slept with whilst she was over there as a correspondent for the BBC during the European Parliamentary elections, and it wasn’t really helping.

“…and like, I’d never really been one for strapons before- because, hello, big dicks usually aren’t really the selling point of lesbianism- but Jesus Christ, Monet, I swear I saw God. In fact, I fucked God. God was her. Hey, panini head, are you even listening to me?”

Monet blinked twice as she tuned back into the conversation. Her friend was staring at her intently, her blonde hair slightly all over the place with how animatedly she’d been telling the story. Not too far away from their table a family of four looked on, horrified.

“Oh my God, Cracker, it’s ten in the morning,” Monet rolled her eyes, utilising the nickname she sometimes hit out with for her friend (“Because I’m thin, white and salty?” “No, because it doesn’t take much for you to snap.“).

“So?! You can’t put a time limit on fucking a hot girl.”

“No, but you can put a volume limit,” Monet raised her eyebrows, as a Dad with a pram walked into the cafe. Bri rolled her eyes.

“Jesus, would you stop being such a prude? You need to get laid,” she sighed, then narrowed her eyes as she saw Monet shift in her seat and cross her legs, the memory of her stationary cupboard encounter flooding back into her head like a tsunami. “Unless you already have…? Monet?”

Monet took a sip of her coffee. She put it back on the saucer and tried to ignore Bri’s piercing eyes. “What?”

Bri jumped back in her seat and almost knocked a tray of tea out of the hands of a woman passing behind her. “Oh my God. You’re not telling me something. Tell me. Tell me now, or I go into more detail about my night with Aquaria Palandrani at double the volume I was using before.”

“How can it get more detailed?!” Monet cried in dismay, then frowned. “Whatever, I don’t want to know. Ugh, there’s nothing to tell, honestly.”

Bri leaned forward in her seat expectantly. Monet rolled her eyes and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Look, it’s honestly nothing! It’s just this girl-”

“A-HA! That’s not nothing! That’s a girl!” Bri gasped, excited. “More details, please.”

“You know I’m doing that piece on Shea Coulee for Bob? She works for her department, she’s a comms girl. We didn’t really see eye to eye at first…I mean, I guess we still don’t. But she’s fucking beautiful, and her attitude’s just really hot, you know? Even though it’s meant to make me not like her.”

“Ooh, hate fucking,” Bri gave her eyebrows a little wiggle, causing Monet to slap her on the arm.

“Shut up! I’m trying to get her to like me first.”

“Don’t. Hate fucking’s the best. Did I ever tell you about-”

Monet tuned out again, her mind now occupied by Monique now that she’d been talking about her. She wondered how she would play things on Monday, and how Monique would approach things with her. Even though she would be happy if Monique had had a personality transplant towards her, there was a small part of her that couldn’t help but long for one of her sarcastic clapbacks that drove her absolutely insane.

That night as she tried to write up things for her article, Monet couldn’t help but feel her phone in her jean pocket like an itch she had to scratch. Giving in, she opened up instagram and made her way to Monique’s page again, top in her search history. She saw a new post on her story and her heart gave a thud. Tapping, she was admittedly disappointed to see a song’s cover art pop up on the screen. She was about to tap off again when two emojis caught her eye, with a completely undeniable double entendre- tongue and squirt. The small clip of the song rang out in Monet’s living room before she could even adjust her volume.

“I put the na-na in naughty

Begging for it, got you on your knees

Didn’t make it to the bedroom, but we can do it there too

Whatever’s your fa-”  

“Oh my God, fuck off,” Monet yelped involuntarily, throwing her phone out of her hands so that it landed on the sofa cushion beside her. She didn’t know how the hell to interpret that, or if it was even about her, but all she knew was that she was more confused than ever.

***

Monet took a deep breath before she stepped into the offices on Monday morning, straightening her spine and walking in confidently, despite the fact she felt as if her legs were made of jelly. On her way into Shea’s office she passed by the desk that hadn’t been far from her mind all weekend (footage from her dream flashing through her head as she walked past) and out came the simple phrase that she’d rehearsed saying for hours.

“Good morning, Monique,” she said quickly, catching the other girl’s surprised eyes before sweeping past her desk and going straight into the Minister’s room, not giving the other girl a single chance to respond. Her heart beat rapidly all morning as she sat through meeting after meeting, a small triumphant smile on her face.

At quarter past twelve, Monet made her way to the elevators, ready to head out to grab some lunch. She cast her glance to Monique’s desk hopefully, only to find it empty. Her disappointment was short-lived, however, when she walked into the lift and heard the click-clack of high heels running to catch the it before it left. Monet pressed the button to hold it and her stomach flipped over when Monique, wearing a black, calf-length bodycon dress, ran into the lift beside her. She shot Monet a quick glance, then looked up to the ceiling and avoided her gaze. The lift doors closed and it began its journey down the many, many floors towards the lobby.

“Thanks,” Monique said, after a few beats of silence. Monet cleared her throat.

“No worries.”

There was another pause. Monet couldn’t tell where it was going, if anywhere, and the awkward atmosphere built. She tossed some of her honey curls out of the collar of her shirt and rubbed the back of her neck, embarrassed.

“So, uh,” Monique spoke up, inspecting her nails. “You have a nice weekend checking up on me?”

Monet felt as if someone had poured a freezing cold bucket of water over her head. She wished she could control the horror that was almost definitely slapped across her face. “What?!”

Monique gave a small smile. “It’s okay, Monet, I know I look good. The least you could’ve done is shoot me a follow, you know?”

Monet wanted the bottom of the elevator to drop off so she could fall directly down the lift shaft.

“I wasn’t…oh my God,” she trailed off, realising there was no way she could explain her way out of this one. She placed both her hands on her face, covering her eyes. “How did you-”

“You know it tells you who views your stories, right?” Monique’s voice came, a slight laugh to it that served to make Monet feel both more and less embarrassed. “Hey. Don’t worry about it. Happens to the best of us.”

Monet couldn’t muster a reply. She didn’t even think she could take her hands off her eyes.

“I mean, I gotta admit. I had a lil’ sneak on yours too,” the other girl said quietly, causing Monet to finally take her hands off her eyes and look at Monique who was leaning lazily against the bar on the lift. “You look like a snack when you’re not in those work clothes, girl.”

Ohhh, shit.

Monet tossed her hair over her shoulder and smirked at Monique. The conversation was finally going down the route she wanted, and she found herself squeezing her thighs together in anticipation. “I don’t know, baby, you seemed pretty keen on me when I was in them too.”

She watched as Monique laughed, looked up at the ceiling again, and shook her head. “That was a necessary step I had to take to stop you running your fuckin’ mouth, and it worked.”

Monet tilted her head as Monique finally made eye contact with her. She bit her lip and shrugged. “Can’t have worked that well, ‘cause I’m still talking.”

Monique smiled smugly, taking a single step towards her. “And what?”

Monet blinked, taken aback. “Well. Maybe you need to shut me up again.”

Monique twirled a strand of her hair around her finger. “Is this a big, powerful, high-up Guardian journalist begging a Band 1 Civil Servant to make out with her in an elevator?”

“Oh, Jesus,” Monet laughed, feeling the heat between her legs build up as Monique came to a stop beside her, deliberately standing a little too close. “You’re a bitch. Fuck, no, I’m not begging.”

“Mm, you wanna beg me so bad,” Monique smiled teasingly, and Monet had never wanted a lift to break down more in her life. Turning quickly so that she had one arm on either side of Monique and effectively trapping her, Monet saw a quick, wicked flash in the other girl’s eye as she leant in and dropped her voice.

“I bet I could make you beg me to do a lot of things.”

Monique flashed her a look from under her lashes. “Like what?”

The lift suddenly stopped and the doors slid open, making Monet flinch and Monique jump beside her. To her relief, nobody was waiting to walk in and she couldn’t help but laugh, the other girl rapidly joining in. After a few seconds, Monet realised they had to get out of the elevator and so she reluctantly walked out, Monique following behind her. Now that the moment had been shattered, it was back to being slightly awkward, but Monet really didn’t want to lose what they’d just created. She found herself stopping abruptly, turning around to face Monique who had stopped beside her and was gazing at her hopefully.

“Hey. Do you want to grab lunch just now?” she asked, her heart soaring as she saw Monique’s smile grow wider and more beautiful.

“Sure,” she beamed, Monet smiling back and feeling like a total lovesick idiot.

They started walking again. “Where do you wanna go?”  

Monique ran her tongue over her teeth and shrugged. “Well…my flat’s five minutes away and my flatmate isn’t home.”

Without missing a beat, Monet took Monique’s hand and led her out of the building, part of her hoping she would be able to shut Monique up and part of her really not wanting to.

[nightglider124]

Box

A Valentine’s oneshot considering I haven’t made a new one in 2 years. In true me style, it is dickkory. Obvs lmao.

It is also being written for the dickkory edition valentines fic challenge thing that @ships-bynoa came up with. (such an amazing thought bc who doesn’t love just binging dickkory oneshots??)

This is set in *arguably* my favourite universe with my two losers; the DCAU. 

Happy Valentine’s y’all <3 <3 <3

Trudging up the stairs, Dick cursed under his breath at the snow sliding off of his shoes and onto the carpet just outside their apartment. He shivered and sniffled, praying for the icy Winter to take its leave already.

As he approached the front door, he reached into his backpack for his keys, his fingers numb and trembling from the obscenely arctic temperature on the street.

Grasping the set of keys, he felt the warmth of the building begin to tickle his cheeks. As he fumbled for the correct key, he glanced out the windows of the hallway, shaking his head at the raging snow blizzard that showed no sign of slowing down.

He sighed; glad that he was home from work rather than still trying to fight his way through the blinding snowfall.

His long charcoal pea coat had endured well against the weather and his neck hadn’t been completely exposed either on account of the dark blue scarf he had wrapped around him, courtesy of Kory the previous Christmas. 

But, since the snowflakes had started melting, the dampness was beginning to seep through and redeliver the sharp cold bite.

Inserting the key into the lock, he turned it until he heard a click and opened the door to the apartment he shared with his girl.

He shut it closed behind him and turned to the coat rack, unraveling his scarf and hanging it up; shortly accompanied by his coat which he hurriedly shrugged himself out of. 

Dick shuddered and muttered, “God, I hate winter...” 

Lastly, he dropped his work backpack to the ground, beside the wooden shoe bench. He promptly dropped his set of keys in the basket atop of it and slid his frozen feet out of his shoes.

He glanced down at the unusual shaped plastic bag he’d also brought home, peering inside to check on the gift he’d brought home for his love. His hand snaked into his backpack to retrieve the second gift too.

Dick knew he didn’t need to check the third gift, having patted his back pocket almost a thousand times that day to make sure he didn’t lose it.

Rolling his shoulders back, he took a long, deep breath, steeling himself before making his presence known to his lovely girlfriend. Tonight was important and he tried hard to quell the nervous fluttering of his heart. 

He shook his head and turned the handle leading into the main area of their apartment.

The moment the door opened, he was hit by a rush of heat; the familiarity of the it, soothing his ruffled mood caused by the outdoors. Every muscle in his body relaxed as the atmosphere that simply was home washed over every inch of him. 

His fingers, cheeks, toes and nose all started tingling at the sudden change in temperature and he snuffled again as feeling started to return to his nerve endings. 

Dick grinned as his eyes caught sight of his girl, busying herself in the kitchen as she prepared what smelled like dinner. He reached into the plastic bag and slipped the bouquet of roses he’d bought for her out of it, tucking the heart shaped box of chocolates under his elbow.

Suddenly, he caught a whiff of the aroma lingering in the air. It was absolutely heavenly; there was a sweetness with a spiced kick and he could smell the delicious scent of chicken noodles.

He raised a brow as she turned around to face him,

“Babe, are you cooking?” He asked incredulously, being well aware of her lack of culinary skills by now,

Kory beamed at him, her hands clasped together and he felt himself melt a little at the utter beauty that she was. Her long red hair was down and draped over her shoulders. Her skin was glowing a little brighter than usual and she wore a loose, lemon off the shoulder sweater with some of his grey sweatpants; that silver bangle he’d bought her years ago still adorning her wrist like it did every single day. 

She giggled and flipped her hair so it cascaded down her back, “No, don’t worry.” She paused and moved aside to reveal Chinese takeout boxes and containers, “I ordered takeout.”

Dick grinned and wandered over to her, “You know the way to my heart.”

“So it would seem.” She smirked,

He juggled her gifts and leaned in, cupping her cheek and giving her a tender kiss on the lips. Kory hummed against him and pressed her palms against his broad chest before she sharply pulled back,

“X’hal! You are freezing, Dick!” She exclaimed, her concerned eyes checking him over,

“Good thing I have you to warm me up then, huh?” He cheeked,

Kory shook her head at him whilst he chuckled and held the roses and chocolates up to her,

“Happy Valentine’s day, Kory.” He smiled, thrilled with the way her face lit up,

“Oh, Dick...” She crooned, accepting his tokens of affections. She deeply inhaled the fresh fragrance of the roses before placing them on the counter alongside her box of chocolates.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and peppered kisses all over his still cold face, “And Happy Valentine’s day to you as well, my love.” Kory whispered,

“Hope you didn’t miss me too much today. Sorry again that I couldn’t get it off work-”

Kory kissed the tip of his nose and spun away from his grasp, “Do not worry. You are home now and that is all that matters. Besides, you are off tomorrow, yes?”

He gave her one of his signature lopsided grins, “I am.”

Her emerald orbs glimmered with mischief, “Then we shall make up for lost time.” She paused, “But for now, let’s eat before this food goes cold.”

Dick smirked as she started to dish up the rice, noodles, dumplings and other cuisine treasures onto both of their plates. 

“I’m just gonna change real quick, okay?” He mentioned as he ambled toward the hallway leading to their bedroom,

“Hurry or I shall eat your portion.” 

He offered up a fake gasp, “You wouldn’t dare!” 

“Mm we shall see...” She giggled as he jogged through the apartment,

Kory hummed a quiet tune to herself as she carted their plates over to the coffee table, briefly looking out the window at the snow storm continuing to billow through the streets.

She scurried back into the kitchen to grab their drinks as well as balancing the extra boxes of Chinese food for them to pick out of if they wanted to, without having to trek back and forth from the kitchen.

The Princess placed everything down on the coffee table and turned back to spread the fluffy grey blanket of theirs across the entirety of the couch, intent on making their evening a cozy one.

Happy with her work, she sat down on the couch and tucked her feet under her, curling up with her plate as she used a fork to shovel some noodles into her mouth.

Dick sighed as he came back out, wearing a simple black t-shirt and a pair of navy sweatpants, seeing as Kory had stolen his favourite grey ones. 

“That’s so much better.” He exhaled, running a hand through his slightly damp locks of ebony hair,

She flashed him a smiled and eyed her flowers on the counter, “Dick, could you please put my roses in some water?”

He nodded and drifted into the kitchen, reaching for the glass vase by the sink and filled it with fresh water from the faucet. Dick collected up the bouquet of roses and carefully placed them inside, tweaking them slightly so they were spread apart a little more.

Carrying the vase over, he propped it on the corner of the coffee table, happy with the loved up expression on Kory’s face.

He grinned as he sat beside her, pulling the blanket over him before reaching for his plate of food. Whilst he started scooping some chow mein from his dish, Dick picked up the TV remote and began skimming through their movie choices.

“What do you feel in the mood for?” 

“Something romantic.”

“Of course,” Dick smirked, “How about... Pretty Woman?”

Her eyes twinkled with excitement, nodding exuberantly around her mouthful of sweet and sour chicken.

Dick chuckled and pressed play, idly watching as the intro of the movie played through. He noticed Kory shuffle out of the corner of his eye and place her plate on the coffee table for a moment,

“Oh!” 

He turned his head to see her leaning over the side of the sofa, reaching for something,

“I almost forgot your gifts.” She murmured, pushing some of her auburn locks behind her ear.

Dick grinned and sat forward, placing his own plate on the table as well. He twisted to watch as she brought forth a large blue box which he took immediately when she passed it over to him.

Raising a dark brow, Dick opened it up and his mouth dropped in surprise,

“Kory... are these-”

“The lighting fixture upgrades you desired for your bike? Yes.” She told him, sounding quite pleased with her gift to him,

He shook his head, eyes scanning the inside for the pieces he needed to add more to his motorcycle. Dick gave her a bewildered laugh,

“How did you-”

“Victor mentioned that you were talking about them recently so I thought I would get them for you instead.” Kory informed him,

“This is amazing, babe. Thank you.” He mumbled, his tone laced with affection for the alien Princess sat beside him.

She nodded and her expression shifted to a sly one, a smirk springing to her lips. 

“There is... something else as well.” She murmured, presenting a small wrapped rectangle shape.

Dick quirked an eyebrow at her but took the gift nonetheless. Unwrapping it, he felt his eyes go wide and a heat spread to his cheeks that continued to drip down his neck at what he saw.

“Love Coupons?” He asked, chuckling,

She crawled closer to him so that her shoulder brushed against his and her eyes fell upon the small coupon booklet in his hands.

“I saw this mentioned on a television advertisement and proceeded to ask Raven about them. She told me it was a small book that is given to a loved one and contains the vouchers to claim hugs and kisses and breakfasts in bed...” She trailed off and watched as he opened it up, “However... I thought I would... make it more interesting...”

Kory nipped his earlobe and he felt his heart beat faster within his chest and he gulped as a thrill shot through the entirety of his body.

Dick kept flipping through the pages, the grin on his face only getting wider the more coupon options he stumbled across. She laid a hand on his back and rubbed in circles as they peered at Kory’s gift together.

“I hope these are valid from the minute you give me this.” He whispered,

She breathed a small giggle, “Oh? Do you have one in mind?”

He tilted his head from side to side before skipping back a few pages and pointed to the coupon.

“This one, definitely.” 

Kory blushed and grinned, “You always want that.”

“You’re extremely good at it; that’s why.”

“Any others?” She cooed, briefly playing with the locks of black hair at the base of his skull,

“There are a couple already I want to use tonight, actually.” He mumbled, inclining his head to kiss her jawline,

“And if I perhaps say... coupons cannot be used in conjunction with one another?” Kory purred,

“I’m sure you’ll make an exception for me.”

She gently smacked his shoulder and laughed, sliding back over to her edge of the sofa to continue watching their movie and eat their meal. Kory leaned forward, intending to pick up her plate but Dick stopped her with a soft hand to her upper arm.

“Wait, Kory?” 

Her emerald gems focused on him and she smiled, “Hm?”

Dick swallowed the lump in his throat as he stared back at this gorgeous woman who had agreed to be his lady so long ago. It was now or never and he knew it.

“I’ve... got something else for you.”

“Oh?” She giggled, “You just had to outdo me on gifts, didn’t you?”

He briefly chuckled before reaching into the pocket of his sweatpants, clasping it tightly in his hand before pulling it out. Dick held a wine colored box, coated in velvet which he gazed at for a long moment before he offered it to Kory,

She smirked and lifted a thin, manicured eyebrow, “I thought you already did the key thing, Dick?” 

Kory laughed to herself as she popped the lid open to look inside.

She froze as her eyes zeroed in on the object, carefully slotted within the soft cushioning inside. Her heart stopped for a long moment before thudding repeatedly beneath her breast.

There sat a beautiful silver ring with a small crystal lining within the band. In the center, a diamond was lodged, glittering in the dim light of their living room.

Kory swallowed, her throat suddenly having gone dry along with her breathing becoming somewhat shallow and labored.

She had been on earth long enough to know what this meant and what Dick was desiring from her.

Her eyes swiveled from the box to him, now down on one knee beside the couch, a small, shy smile gracing his lips. His deep blue eyes held a strong flicker of hope adjacent to the speck of anxiety that no doubt revolved around the uncertainty of what her answer would be.

“Kory... I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. I can’t imagine having anyone else next to me when I wake up in the morning and I don’t ever want that to stop...” He sucked in a deep breath, his eyes locking with hers, “Will you marry me?”

Kory felt tears prick her eyes, emotions welling and throbbing deep inside of her. Her lip trembled as she was overcome with love and devotion to this wonderful man kneeling on the floor before her.

“Yes.” She whispered, “Of course I’ll marry you, Dick.”

An elated smile broke forth onto his face and he retrieved the box from her to take the ring out, gently holding her left hand and sliding it onto her slender finger.

Kory matched his expression and slid onto her knees before him, cupping his face with both of her hands and pressed her lips to his igniting that spark between them that was always present beneath the surface. 

Dick’s hands came to rest on her waist and he pulled her closer to him, tilting his head to nip at her lower lip.

She pulled her head back, breaking the kiss and rested her forehead against his, 

“I love you... so much...” She panted, her eyes flitting between gazing at him and his lips,

Dick brushed his nose against hers, “And I love you, Kory.” 

He took a deep breath and smiled nervously, “And I can’t wait for you to be my wife.”

She giggled and stroked her fingers against his cheek, “A truly wonderful Valentine’s day, Dick...”

“I know... how will I top it next year?”

Kory burst out laughing, with him soon joining as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and cuddled him close, reveling in the utter warmth that was her love.