#u are trying to be serious studying over in the corner but i got u sjhbjkhbsd

[immortalsins]

self-isolation during times of stress is pretty bad actually shame it took me 2 years of uni to realise this

[archangeldyke-all]

Omg fucking stupid thing I thought of but like Sevika with a reader who is literally her number one apologist

Oh she got into deep shit? “I saw nothing actually” <— (quite literally was there)

Oh she murdered a man? “I mean.. did we ever take time to consider why she killed them? I mean, they could have looked at her wrong! I mean, I would if I were her too—“

Oh Sevika was being an asshole? “So? And I was backing her up 😇🫶🏼”

this is so me, she'd chop finn's head clean off in front of me and i'd be like 'babe ur so silly! omg u have blood on ur arm!! lemme clean it for u...'

men and minors dni

sevika knows you're loyal to her.

in the five years you've been together, sevika's never once worried about your eyes wandering or you sneaking around on her.

but it's more than that.

you ride or die for sevika.

she realizes this the first time she's home to watch you talk to an enforcer.

sevika and silco's deal with marcus means they get away with most their dealings in the undercity-- but from time to time, to avoid questions, marcus will have to send a rookie down to the undercity to 'investigate.'

usually, the kid will snoop around for half a day, before high-tailing it right back up to piltover.

sometimes-- they actually try to investigate some of the evidence.

and, once or twice a year, one of the rookies will even have big enough balls to try to question sevika herself.

she's on the couch reading when someone knocks on your door. she's on high alert as she watches you open the door, her hackles rising when she sees the uniform standing on your front stoop.

"sorry to bother you so late at night, miss, is this the residence of a 'sevika'?" the enforcer asks.

sevika huffs, rolling her eyes and biting back her annoyed groan. she's in no fucking mood to deal with this. she's about to haul herself off the couch and take over for you, when you speak again.

"who?" you ask.

sevika blinks-- unsure if she heard you correctly.

"s-sevika?" the man tries again.

"sevika? i've never heard of a 'sevika' living in this neighborhood..." you say. sevika realizes what you're up to, and a smile breaks across her face. "do you mean savannah? there's a savannah a few blocks south, she owns a barbershop off third..." you suggest.

the rookie studies you for a second, and you just blink up at him innocently.

sevika has to smack a hand over her mouth when the idiot buys your act, sighing and slumping before turning around to leave your front stoop. "thank you for your time ma'am. sorry again for bothering you so late."

"put your gas mask on, young man, you'll hurt your lungs down here!" you call after him, waving sweetly as you watch him wander down the street.

you grunt and roll your eyes, your sweet smile dropping the moment he turns the corner, before you turn around and walk back inside your home, slamming and locking the door behind you.

sevika tackles you to the ground, kissing you fiercely. you burst into giggles. "what's this for?" you ask.

sevika can't stop laughing against your lips. "you're so amazing." she giggles. you just huff and roll your eyes.

"thought i'd turn you in?" you ask. sevika shakes her head.

"no-- didn't think you'd lie to a cop for me though."

you blink up at her, suddenly serious, and sevika's heart swells. "sevika. i'd do anything for you."

sevika has to hide her flustered face against your shoulder at this.

over the years, she realizes how much you meant the words.

you come home one night and find her panicking, a dead body in your living room blood soaked into her skin and clothes. you just blink, take a deep breath, and snap into action.

sevika watches in a daze as you gently guide her to sit on the couch, kissing her and calming her down as you strip her of her bloody clothes and toss them ontop of the dead man in the middle of your home.

you don't even ask her questions. you just gently guide her to the bathroom, and treat her like she's just got a cold, or something.

"you're so pretty." you whisper as you wash her clean.

you dress her in her jammies and put her to bed.

sevika stays awake, listening to you call ran and silco over, and then listening to the three of you clean up the mess for the rest of the night.

when you crawl into bed beside her at the end of the night, smelling vaguely of fire and gasoline and bleach-- sevika turns onto her side and grabs your hand.

"you okay, my love?" you whisper.

"will you marry me?" sevika asks.

you burst into giggles and agree, kissing sevika sweetly before dragging her onto your chest and scratching her scalp as she falls asleep.

it's not even the serious shit that you back her up on either. it's the dumb, petty shit too.

you can be sitting on her lap during a game of cards; muffling your giggles against her shoulder when sevika cheats by hiding a few of her cards one second, and the next you're swearing on your grandmother's life that sevika's never cheated during a game when one of her opponent's accuses her of hiding cards.

you hear her voice rise a bit when she gets in an argument with a goon, and you're by her side at lightspeed, glaring at whoever dared to question her authority, cracking your knuckles to back up her threats. when the goon stumbles away, nearly crying in fear, sevika turns to you with a guilty look.

"what?" you ask.

"i realized halfway through that i was yelling at the wrong kid... they all wear the same grungy eyeliner-- i can't tell these fuckers apart." she admits.

you burst into giggles and pull her in for a hug, and sevika finds out years later that you ended up tracking down the kid you'd both threatened and buying him dinner to apologize.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

@raphaellearp @iamastar @sevikitty @claude999

[jamesbuchananxsteviegrant]

I Pick the TV Show, Rogers Shuts His Cake-Hole | Bucky x Steve x Reader (Angst, Fluff)

Category: Angst, Fluff (Suggested) Age: 14+ Trigger Warnings: none, other than the standard explicit language Ship: Bucky x Steve x Reader Summary: Steve Snaps At Reader When He’s Stressed, Resulting In Her Being Very Upset Request: "can u write where steve/bucky is overwhelmed with something and when reader asks to help or is telling them to relax they snap at reader and reader is hurt which makes them feel really bad afterwards. thank you sm. i love ur writings. and this is anon right? is it alright if u dont post my response if its not anon? im sorry. thank you so much. ur blog always pictures great stucky imagines. 💗💗💗" Contains Spoilers for: N/A Word Count: 2,488

---

A given, the super-soldier had been on nonstop missions for the last month or so, but she thought she was helping him feel better, not making him feel worse.

“Would you like anything to eat, Stevie? You’ve barely moved all day.” (Y/N)’s voice is small. Quiet.

She’s leaning through the door of his study where he’s sat putting together his mission reports from the last three or four missions he’s been out on.

He shakes his head but doesn’t even turn to look at her.

Sighing, the woman walks further into the room where her boyfriend is slouched over the desk.

“You gotta take a break, Stevie.” She whispers, resting her hands on his shoulders.

She notices the way they tense up, but he still remains silent.

His fingers continue to write up his report on the laptop.

“I’m worried about you, Stevie; talk to me.”

“I’m busy, (Y/N).”

“I know you are, baby, but you’ve gotta look after yourself too.” She attempts, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. He pulls away.

The woman furrows her brows.

“Steve, please, you’ve got to-”

“(Y/N), just stop!”

The shout is sudden and it makes her flinch back away from the man as he turns to face her.

“I’m fine, alright?! I don’t need you babying me all the time!”

She doesn’t respond for a second, surprised at her lover’s outburst.

He says nothing more, simply turns back to the laptop and continues typing away.

“Steve, look how stressed you are. Can you please just-”

“STOP! Okay?! Just stop! Leave me the fuck alone while I finish these neverending mission reports. For once in your life can you just understand that not everything is about you?!”

(Y/N) swears that being shot in the heart wouldn’t hurt half as much as the words that just came out of the man’s mouth.

Her mouth opens and closes as if searching for the right words to say, but that hurt.

Is she really that bad? Is that the truth behind all of this? That she’s clingy? Thinks everything is about her? That was never her intention. (Y/N) is well aware of how important being an Avenger is. Hell, she is an Avenger, for Christ’s sakes.

She says nothing more and leaves the room.

She can’t even decide if she feels sad. No. She’s not sad, she’s not angry, she’s not… anything.

Numb.

Naturally, her feet lead her to their room. Steve’s room. They all basically share the super soldier’s abode since they all got together, but right now she doesn’t dare open the door.

Doing a full one-eighty spin, (Y/N) takes herself back to a place she barely touches anymore. Her room.

It’s pretty empty. Most of her clothes are in Steve’s room, in her own walk-in wardrobe. Her bed is perfectly made from the last time she slept in here - maybe a year ago?

The woman walks around her bed and straight onto her bedroom balcony, overlooking the lake at the back of the compound, and stays there. For three-hours. Until Bucky comes looking for her.

He came home from his mission about thirty-minutes ago only to find their shared room of Steve’s empty. He searched just about everywhere, completely clueless.

“FRIDAY, where’s (Y/N) and Steve?” He finally gives in.

“Captain Rogers is in study five, and Agent (L/N) is in her private quarters.”

Now that makes the brunet furrow his brows.

Why would (Y/N) be in her room and not his or Steve’s?

He prioritises finding (Y/N) first, knowing Steve will be writing up mission reports, no doubt.

Despite them being together for over six-years now, he hesitates when reaching for the handle of her bedroom door. Instead, the man opts to knock.

No answer.

“(Y/N)?” Nothing. “Doll, it’s me; can I come in?” Nothing.

Bucky tries the door handle and finds it unlocked, yet still hesitates.

“Baby?” He calls out. Again, nothing.

He’s cautious now. Scared.

Her room looks as untouched as the last time he saw it, which was a few months back when she was after one of her plushies.

“(Y/N)?”

It’s when he feels the chill of the midnight winds ruffle his hair that he realises her balcony doors aren’t fully closed.

Striding straight over, his eyes widen at the sight of his girlfriend curled up in the corner of the outdoor area, crying.

“(Y/N), baby, hey, what’s wrong?!”

Bucky immediately drops to his knees in front of the woman, reaching for her hands and gently tugging them away from her tear-stained face.

“(Y/N), doll, look at me.” His voice is gentle. Soothing.

She does almost instantly but her sadness stays.

“What happened, baby? Are you hurt?”

The fear and sincerity in his voice is enough to prompt the woman to shake her head. Yes, she’s hurting emotionally, but he needs confirmation that she’s not dying.

The woman immediately sees the relief take over his features, but he’s still concerned.

“What’s wrong, doll?”

Her eyes stray away from his, not wanting to tell him what’s got her so upset.

“Hey, no, look at me, baby,” He whispers, hand lightly grasping at her chin to raise her face back up to his. “What’s got you so worked up, (Y/N)?”

Another shake of her head as she tries to escape her lover’s hold.

“Baby, please, you’re scaring me.”

Her face contorts into something close to heartbreak as she wants nothing more than to reassure the man in front of her.

“It’s okay, Buck.”

“It’s not okay! Doll, I haven’t seen you cry since Stevie nearly died on that mission in Ohio like two-years-ago! Talk to me.”

She takes a deep breath and wipes her face of the shedding tears.

“Do you want me to get Stevie?”

The question is innocent and makes sense, but her eyes widen and she shakes her head desperately.

“No! No, please, no.”

That truly makes the super soldier concerned.

“Doll, please can you tell me what’s happened?”

Never in the last eight-years that Bucky and (Y/N) have known each other has she been so reluctant to see Steve.

Another sob escapes her and it’s breaking his heart.

“Baby, please.”

“Steve got mad at me, alright?!” She manages an attempted shout. “I just wanted him to look after himself.”

“What happened? What did Steve do?”

He’s concerned. Massively.

“I was trying to get him to eat; he hasn’t eaten properly in so long. He’s so overworked and he’s hung up on all these mission reports. He told me that not everything was about me - shouted at me; told me to stop.” She’s whimpering and sniffling again now. “Please get him to eat something, James.”

That last sentence is the one that crushes him. She’s upset, yeah, but above all that, she’s still worried about the blond super soldier.

“Come on, baby, let’s go to our room and get into bed, yeah? I’ll go and speak to Stevie.”

Her eyes meet his and she looks scared, but the ocean blue gaze that he returns makes her bound to his every command.

The woman nods.

“Okay.”

“That’s my girl.”

With the help of the Winter Soldier, (Y/N) manages to stand up, letting him lead her out of her private room and into their shared one of Steve’s.

“Here, let’s get you into your PJs, yeah?”

He doesn’t leave room for negotiation as he helps his girlfriend strip out of her casual dress and into one of his oversized t-shirts.

“You get snuggled up in bed, doll. I’m going to go and get Stevie, okay?”

He hates how she looks nervous at the mention of their other lover’s name.

“He loves you more than words can describe, baby girl, I promise you. He shouldn’t have lashed out at you, I’m gonna talk to him, okay?”

A hesitant nod and forced smile is enough for now.

“I’ll be back shortly, I promise.” He leans over and gives the woman a kiss on the lips, leaving her with one of her favourite shows playing on the TV.

“Bucky,” Her choked up voice calls out just before he leaves.

The man turns from his place in the doorway.

“I love you.”

The smile that takes over his expression is contagious.

“I love you too, baby girl. More than anything.”

Despite his reassurance to the woman, he’s pretty damn pissed for a number of reasons about Steve losing his cool with their girl. Reason number one being, how dare he? Reason number two being, he knows better than to overwork, yet here we are.

Bucky doesn’t even knock once he approaches the glass doors of the study where Steve is sat typing away on the laptop.

The blond doesn’t even glance up to see who entered. He barely heard the door open which enrages Bucky further.

The brunet slams the lid of the laptop shut without saying a word, prompting Steve’s head to shoot up, glaring daggers at whoever has interrupted him.

“What the fuck, James?!”

That makes Bucky really get annoyed.

“Are you serious right now, Rogers?”

“I’m in the middle of about seven different mission reports, Buck, I’ve gotta finish them.” The man sighs, going to open the lid of the PC once more, only for Bucky to hold it down. “James, seriously,”

“No. What you need to do is explain to me why our girlfriend has been crying for the last God-knows how many hours?”

That makes Steve snap back to reality.

“What? (Y/N) has been crying? Is she okay?”

Bucky literally rolls his eyes at that.

“Are you fucking serious, Steve?” He repeats, Steve looking confused, expression contorting as he realises that his boyfriend is seriously angry at him.

“Bucky, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”

The Winter Soldier’s head lolls back as he groans in frustration.

“You seriously have no idea?” He asks, rhetorically, watching Steve look almost scared. “Do you often shout at your girlfriend and forget it happened?”

Cap’s eyes widen at that, and he visibly gulps.

“What?”

“She came in here to make sure you were looking after yourself, which you weren’t, by the way, and you tell her that not everything is about her?! Are you fucking stupid, Steve?!”

He remembers it all too well in that moment, turning his head down to avoid the frustrated glare of his male lover.

“No. No, you don’t get to look away from me. Look at me.” Bucky demands, watching the blond super soldier reluctantly do so. “I come home from my own exhausting mission, search for (Y/N) for thirty-minutes, and find her crying her God-damn heart out on the balcony of HER room; not our room, Steve, no. Her room.”

Steve’s heart shatters and his eyes widen once more.

(Y/N) hates staying in her room. She’d always be in his or Bucky’s without a doubt.

“I- Buck-”

Bucky shakes his head and stands back upright as Steve is lost for words.

“I’m not mad at you, Steve. I get it, you know? You’ve been overworking for the last month, I know you’re stressed, but fuck, baby, you can’t hurt her like that. Do you know how much my heart fucking shattered when I saw her curled up in the corner of her own God-damn balcony?! It tore me apart. She hasn’t cried since you nearly fuckin-” Bucky chokes on his own word as he walks away from his lover.

“I’m sorry! Buck, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have let Fury send me on that many missions, I- I should’ve said no. I’m sorry.” Steve attempts, standing up and following the brunet, turning him around to face him once more.

“It’s not me you need to be apologising to, Stevie.”

Captain America nods and leans up to press a kiss to the man’s lips.

“I’m sorry, James.”

Bucky takes a deep breath and forces a smile.

“I forgive you. Of course I forgive you, I know you didn’t mean it, but I swear to God, if you hurt her again…”

Steve is already shaking his head.

“I wouldn’t dream of either of you getting hurt. Where is she?”

“Our room.”

He nods and begins heading toward the woman to which he owes more than he can give.

The door is half ajar when Steve gets there, he slowly opens it to reveal his girlfriend in all her glory, curled up under their Captain America themed duvet - which Sam bought the trio as a joke last Christmas. Her face is clear-as-day red from her earlier upset, and it breaks his heart.

The man knocks gently on the day as if not to startle the poor girl.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He offers a solemn smile when she turns to see who’s there.

He hates the way he can see her hesitation to speak to him as opposed to her usual squeal of his name, arms opening wide to welcome him into her cuddle-fest.

“Hi.” She manages, forcing her own smile.

There’s silence floating between them, the only sound being Jensen Ackles, in his role of Dean Winchester, talking a load of nonsense about pie on the TV that’s streaming Supernatural.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Steve manages, taking a step toward the bed. “Nothing can excuse the way I yelled at you, and I’m so sorry for that, but, sweetheart, trust me when I say I didn’t mean it. I was so stupidly stressed, and I should never have let it get to that point.”

She nods, truly believing his words, but it still hurt.

The blond sits down on the edge of the bed, not daring to cuddle his girlfriend until she’s comfortable.

“I love you so much, (Y/N) (L/N).”

A bigger smile taints her lips at that.

“I love you too, Steven.” Her voice is barely a whisper but he hears it clear as day.

“Can I hold you?”

(Y/N) smiles and shakes her head as if he was being silly.

“You never need to ask permission for that, Stevie. No matter what.”

With another sad smile, he pulls the woman into his arms and holds her tighter than ever before.

“I’m so sorry, my love.”

“I forgive you, but no more missions for a while.” She whispers.

“Yes, boss.”

Bucky’s leaning against the doorframe, watching the interaction. He took a detour to Tony’s office and made sure to give the billionaire a piece of his mind about making sure Fury didn’t have Steve on any missions for a long time.

“Is this the last episode?” The brunet speaks up, stripping himself of his clothes as he enters their room properly.

“Yeah.” (Y/N) nods.

“I still think we should watch Vampire Diaries instead.” Steve chuckles, mirroring Bucky’s actions.

“I pick the TV show, Rogers shuts his cake-hole.” (Y/N) teases, mocking a line from Supernatural and snuggling herself in the middle of the bed, sandwiched between the two super soldiers - where she belongs. “I love you both.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

“Love you always, doll.”

TAGS

Everything Tag List: @nosoulnoproblems | @rileyloves5  | @girl-who-loves-mythology | @avngrsinitiative | @lookinsidemyhead |@xbabykookiix | @myspectacularfantasies | @fanfic-anyone | @rororo06 | @queenofbuskers | @vapingisntmything | @tony-stank3 | @hermione-grangers-wife | @lili-ann-love | @the-omni-princess | @tayahs-blog | @regulus-black | @saturnsteverogers| @fyfiexo | @amazingiam00 | @deviltownn | @buckybarneses | @fafulous | roryshitposts | trynnabemultifandom | @moodboreddd | @hopingforbarnes | @an-adventureland | justassaneasiam-ll | @profoundllamanickeleggs | @xbongox | @minetticatinwonderland | @thinkaboutmara | @xxaestheticboyxx | @sparklycollectionofoldmemes | @wandaneedstherapy | @georgiadixon | @nerdy-thespian-10 | @nsb-supertrio | @thinkaboutmara | @captainamerica-is-bae | @spookyparadisesheep | @supernaturallover2002 | @notsochillnerd | @peggycarter-steverogers | @reann-shitposting | @buckybarnesplumwhore | @mrsstevenbuchananstark | @ynscrazylife | @jessromanoff | @holsj2411 |

Stucky x Reader Only Tag List: polarbearnamedpanda | @marvelous-glims

SFW Only Tag List: @piper-koko-barnes-rogers

[slothgiirl]

the spy part 1(keith x reader)

8k. explicit content. while on medical leave reader meets the red paladin of voltron during the war against Zarkon.

The corridors are well lit. It’s like being in a brand new hospital, this ship in the rebel fleet. 

People hustle around, landing, taking off in smaller ships to distant planets. Your hand goes to your arm. The medic had given you a movement’s leave, so you were resting for now on this ever moving ship. 

Outside the widows, you spy an assortment of ships, each one’s origins clear from the design. So many planets, so many peoples banding together against Zarkon. You’d win the war. 

It was what you kept telling yourself. 

You would. 

It was just a matter of time.

You round the corner, stretching your arm across your chest, a simple form of physical therapy in deep space. You hadn’t seen earth since being deployed. The galaxy garrison seemed like a dream from another life. You had been on track for the chemistry department, long term missions to mars to analyze soil and dust, not this, not a war. You take a breath. 

And spot the Red Paladin. 

He’s one of the most recognizable people in the universe, and his grungy hair and distinctive outfit does him no favors. You’d never seen him before, not in the flesh. Sure. Voltron had saved your ass a handful of times. You wouldn’t have survived the assault on Arrakis if Voltron hadn’t rammed the shield. Trapped. Piloting a fighter craft that was closer to a mosquito irritating the Galra then pushing them back.

But you hardly knew him.

He’s gripping the railing tightly, trying to camouflage into the wall as an alien with crystalline blue skin and hair like saturated indigo leans into him. 

The line of his shoulders is taut, brittle. 

You don’t even think. 

“There you are,” you force yourself to be synthetically cheerful as you smile easily at the paladin, who you realize quickly you don’t know his name but you know what he is and that must be an awful feeling, being so recognizable without being known. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you lied, elbowing the blue alien out of the way. You could never tell much from a single glance at themis species despite their largely humanoid appearance. 

You put your hand on his arm loosely, “come on, we’re late enough and you know how annoyed the others get.” Good, that seemed convincing enough. 

The red paladin’s eyes go wide, his mouth a grimace and it’s then that you notice the feverish flush to his skin. 

But he doesn’t pull away or argue. 

You ignore the alien and decide small talk was the way to go until you put some distance, “I’m kind of hurt you didn’t come visit me while I was healing,” you stick close to the truth, “but since it only took an hour? a varga? for me to heal I won’t hold it against you.” He’s too warm.

Maybe the space flu?

Was that even a thing?

You weren't sure. 

Mostly, you snuck into work camps and blew up strategic targets using whatever you could get your hands on to make a bomb. The chemistry came in handy. 

He sways as he walks, looking like your roommate at the garrison after a few too many hits after an exam. “Do I know you?”

You flush, embarrassed. “Sorry, I just,” you look back, but the alien’s been left a couple turns back, “you looked uncomfortable.” You take a step back, letting go of him. “Are you okay?” 

His expression furrows, mouth a pinched line as he goes from suspicious to annoyed, takes a u-turn back to suspicious as he studies you, before relaxing. “Yeah. yeah. . .who are you?”

You introduce yourself, taking on the meaningless garrison designation at the end, “technically second year member, though I’ve been with the runners mostly.” No designation more than a number. 

“You do look human,” he replies simply, moving to get a look at your ears, “not many of those out here.”

“And yet somehow the sentries always look the other way,” you muse, “not very bright. I’m almost convinced the Empire’s in it’s failing bureaucracy days.” 

He winces, before deadpanning, “eh, I don’t know how useful a lion is against the DMV.” 

You laugh. 

He takes slow deliberate breaths, steadying himself, “I’m Keith.”

“Seriously though, do you need to see a medic?” He looked in serious need of a tylenol. The ships were usually crisp, you wore a jacket most of the time to stave off the permanent chill. 

Keith shakes his head, chewing his lip before meeting your gaze with an intense concentration in his violet eyes, as if he was gauging how much titrant he could add before hitting the endpoint and if half a drop was worth the risk. “I’m just. . .going through something.”

“Anyone I can call for you?” You weren't about to abandon him here. Sure, he was a paladin and could probably look after himself. But you couldn’t in good conscience walk away. 

He swallows, looking down for a moment and you are startled to find how much you miss his attention boring into you with the loveliest eyes you’d ever seen. 

“No,” Keith replies mulishly as he jerks away from you. “I’m fine.”

Which was a total lie. It was obvious he wasn’t feeling well but you weren’t about to get on his case. You were sure he had people for that. He wasn’t some random soldier in arms with you that you watched out for and hoped not to have to watch die. 

You swallow the bitter thought away, crossing your arms over your chest.

Leaning back against the hall, you watch evenly as Keith stumbles, catching himself on the wall. His mouth is a drawn line of determination. 

You didn’t understand why. 

There was aid here. It wasn’t the same as crawling through cramped mining tunnels and swallowing back pain forcing yourself to work through it until the mission was accomplished. 

“Do you need help,” you ask.

“No.” He leans a hand against the wall.

You raise a brow, wondering if he would pass out for whatever weird space flu he had clearly caught and you could only hope it was nothing like the infections that ran rampant in the work camps, or if he would give in and accept your offer of help. The former seemed more likely. 

You don’t ditch him though, focusing your attention on the porthole to the stars. 

There was no rush: no reason to help him by force. People didn’t learn if you babied them you’d caught on quick back on earth during your tutoring hours. You had to let them fall and smash their face in sometimes. 

So you stay, watching the stars.

Keith makes no move to take another step. 

It still got you, looking out into the vastness of space and realizing this really was your life now, you were out here, further than you’d ever dreamed. Everywhere you looked, novel stars, distant planets teaming with life. You could have done without the war, but it was what it was. 

“And here I thought Mars would be the furthest I’d go,” you comment more to yourself than Keith. 

The red paladin makes a small sound of acknowledgement. 

“Earth’s, or was, at the beginning of our space age. People had barely begun to live on the research bases on Mars,” you watch him out of the corner of your eye in case he really does pass out, “so no Star Trek for me but now I’m here.” 

“There’s a war going on.”

You turn over to look at him, sort of annoyed because yeah you got that, spent enough time in the trenches without a fancy lion spaceship, but the bubbling annoyance dissipates when you see the upturned corners of his mouth. Keith was teasing you. 

Shifting your weight, you add, “yeah well, instead of being a footnote in a Mars base’s history I’ll be a footnote in this war instead.” Gallows humor. You needed a lot of that when regularly infiltrating camps and posing as a slave, as a prisoner, the bottom of the barrel that wouldn’t get a second glance from the Galra soldiers. 

He frowns. “I don't think anyone’s just a footnote.”

“I was joking.”

“Oh.” Keith looks away.

You feel bad. “It’s probably better not to be so cynical,” you muse, “but it’s like the vice president thing, no one remembers them unless the president gets assassinated.” God you couldn’t help how dark your humor could veer even when trying to be positive. 

He looks over at you, head tilted, considering. Despite being standoffish, Keith was easy to read unlike the slick space pirates you’d encountered. 

You meet his gaze head on. 

“I might need some help,” he allows. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. “If you’re sure,” you utter, regarding him carefully and unable to keep the teasing from your voice. You shouldn’t. You barely knew him and what little you’d learned made it clear he wouldn’t take well to your teasing. 

War made quick brothers out of everyone. 

But Keith held himself afar.

A questioning glance danced in his uniquely violet eyes as he tried to get a read on you. “I am.” 

You nod, stepping besides him and wrapping an arm around his waist. You were always caught by surprise by how heavy a grown adult could be. And depending on the alien. . .

He takes a step, still holding himself afar from you, barely resting any weight on you. His muscles were stiff under your touch, back rigid that matched the uncomfortable look on his chiselled features. 

You follow his lead. 

At Keith’s sedate pace, it would take quite a while before you dropped him off where you needed to go. Being personable was part of being a leader or it’d lead to mutiny. Not that you had ever gotten that far. The Galaxy Garrison had slapped the graduation badge on your uniform and sent you into space. 

You scrabble for familiar territory, earth and the garrison. The Black Paladin was a Garrison member returned from the grave. Rumor had it all the paladins were garrison deserters. 

Veronica McCain did share a familiar resemblance with the blue paladin. It was probably true. 

“I attended the Garrison campus at Guiana,” you offer. “I was hoping for Texas or Florida to be closer to home, but I didn’t test into pilot or engineer.” 

Keith makes a sound in the back of his throat. 

Even through the fabric of his uniform, he felt warm. How anybody could be warm in such cold halls was anybody’s guess. A permanent chill had sunk its way into your bones. You missed the humid heat of Guiana. 

“It was nice though. The jungle was pretty close and it was always hot,” you tell him. “I thought I wouldn’t miss the humidity, step outside and it was like having just showered but I do. These ships have to be at 15 C.” 

“Texas is hot too.” Keith utters quietly. 

“Isn’t the desert cold at night though,” you ask, already knowing the answer. It had been basic earth science. 

“Yeah. It is.” There’s longing in his voice. You wish he’d say more just to hear him speak. 

Warmth spreads, an embarrassing tell, through your cheeks. 

“I did miss the snow while there,” you continue, “it didn’t snow much up in Vancouver but it was never as hot as Guiana, and the rain was warm!” You had never gotten over that. The rain would spot and start throughout the day but the sun would keep on shining. 

“What were you,” Keith asks bluntly.

“Chemisist, more the physical and inorganic type,” you admit, “it was fun doing wet labs.” That had gotten you hooked back in regular school. “Then got shunted to command track after a few too many volunteering opportunities. Guess the lesson there’s to not try too hard.”

That gets a laugh out of him. 

“You,” you ask him as he shifts more of his weight onto you, finally accepting the help he asked for. Stubborn guy. 

“Pilot.”

You look over at him, his wild hair brushing against your cheek and the simple action shouldn’t excite you but it does. He was hot with sharp features offset by a certain enthralling earnestness but he could run a comb through his hair.

Keith didn’t seem the pilot type: arrogant, loud, generally strong personalities. 

“You any good,” you ask though you’ve heard about Voltron so he has to be pretty fucking good to be part of them. How did Voltron choose its pilots?

He smirks easily, close to a smile at the mere mention of piloting and you knew that moment he loved it: didn’t matter if he was good at it or not. You swallow hard as anticipation buzzes under your skin for no good reason. 

Get your head out of the gutter, you tell yourself. 

“I’m a pretty good pilot,” Keith answers, somehow managing to sound like he’s stating a fact instead of bragging. 

“Just pretty good?” You smile at him, letting him know you were only joking around as you both round another corner, finally making it to the transient quarters. People were always dropping in and out of mobile spaceports like these. 

He snorts. “Better than most.” Keith shrugs, smiling over at you. 

“Don’t be modest on my account,” you utter, looking away, not sure what to do about the growing heat in your body that had nothing to do with temperature controls. 

“It’s true,” he says simply. 

Honesty was a hard thing to come by. You were finding more and more reasons to like the red paladin as you reach his current room. No special treatment here. 

Or maybe it was politics and optics, making sure everyone knew Voltron was of the people and not aiming to replace Zarkon as rulers of the universe. 

Keith places a hand against the door, putting space between you both.

You swallow, glancing away, feeling some of the tension ease. 

“You sure you don’t want me to send a medic,” you ask him, looking over at his striking eyes. The heat under your skin is a live wire: you curl your toes in your shoes. People usually didn’t affect you this much. Even the smell of him was so distinct, drawing you in. 

It was an unprecedented reaction. 

He must feel it too. 

Keith studies you with an enraptured fascination shining in his wide eyes, mouth parted on the verge of answering. Both your bodies sway towards each other like branches in the wind: sunflowers orienting towards the sun. 

You shift your weight from one foot to another. 

It relieves enough tension for you to shift away. 

“No. No medic,” Keith finally answers. 

“Right then.” But you don’t make a move to leave. 

He says nothing. 

The silence is broken by the hum of the ship's engines under your feet. People move about and you can hear their footsteps echoing on the metal floors. 

Supposedly quintessence powered ships smelled like ozone. 

This one was powered by crystals and some Olkari engine. You wouldn't know the specifics, they were beyond you. And not your job. 

You look back at him, ready to leave. The space between you could so easily tilt to awkward and you weren’t sure what you were doing or why you found yourself so entranced by Keith. You barely knew him. You didn’t want to be one of the soldiers with a photograph in your pocket and a farflung hope that you’d-

He’s looking at you, cautious, movements slow and deliberate as if he’s caught between thinking and simply doing. 

Then Keith’s demeanour becomes determined: deciding to take the leap without looking down. He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you.

For a second you’re baffled, trying to figure out how you got to point B when this wasn’t a bar and you had no agenda, before you shrug and kiss him back. Keith was undeniably attractive. He was even a bit taller than you which was compelling, you were on the tall side for a girl. 

It’s not some unsolvable thought experiment, you kiss him back.

And a current of static electricity runs through your core. Heat pools after only just a kiss that steals your breath away. 

You can’t get enough, his hands warm against your skin, igniting a delicious sensation in your very core. You want more. You kiss him harder, your mouth against his, sucking on his bottom lip. 

Your hands clutch at the fabric of his shift.

Keith kisses you back, matching your frenzied energy, his mouth parting against yours and pulling you flush against his chest. 

It does nothing to dissolve the tension, the charged energy between you spikes. Like a fire fed by wood it grew. 

It was a heady feeling, his hands caressing your cheeks as Keith kissed you with a vigor you thought only existed in soapy dramas. Heat pools in your belly like a sinking stone: you liked his intensity. 

Keith pulls away, catching his breath, resting his forehead against yours. 

Some of the muddled list clears from your head, now completely in the gutter as you press Keith against the door to his room. 

Oh. . .were you really doing this?

Keith looks a fuckable mess, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. Still, he hesitates. 

You can feel the question linger in the air, can feel it in the featherlight touch of his hands ghosting over your cheeks as he makes to pull away, to let you go if you want to turn back now. But you don’t.

You want to run your hands through his hair. You’re practically burning up wondering how Keith would look splayed on the bed between your thighs. . .how he would feel. 

Would he be just as intense in bed as he fucked you? 

“You feel it too,” he asks quietly.

You furrow your brows, thrown. There were a lot of intense emotions coursing through you all narrowed down to feeling horny as a teenager back on earth. Masturbation only went so far. 

You swallow, trying to rack your brain cells together and say something. Yeah. It was a bit. . .much. Space much. But that didn’t make any sense. You hadn’t taken any drinks from strangers. 

The connection was too strong to discount the possibility of space weirdness affecting both of you. 

“Yeah,” you reply, sounding more whiny than you’d like to. The apex of your thighs throbbed with want. Anticipation had built up and he was right there; Keith

s breath fanned over you, his forehead against yours like a touchpoint. 

Your fingers were still curled into the fabric of his shirt. 

In the hall. 

Where anyone could see. 

“So what now,” you ask, “medic?”

Keith snorts, “No. I just-do you want to come inside?”

You smirk. Everyone knew what that meant. There were so many variations with the same outcome. 

“Yeah. Okay.” You put a pin in any alien space nonsense and slip inside Keith’s assigned quarters for however long Voltron was here for.

The lights are off. You don’t bother to study the room when Keith crushes his mouth against yours. You stumble around in the dark, feeling emboldened now that he’d voiced an invitation, he wanted this as much as you did, and run your hands up his chest. He was lean and lithe. Keith leans into your touch, a shiver running down his spine when you run your fingers through his hair and run your tongue over his bottom lip. 

Keith moans, the sound scratchy from the back of his throat excites you. 

It was thrilling to know you could elicit such a response from someone. You liked feeling hot and sexy. And from a guy like Keith who you were vibing with. . .

He finds the jagged hem of your cut tank top, which had doubled as a bandage, and slides his hands under your shirt. His fingers are calloused, skin hot against yours and there was always something so carnal about skin on skin touch. Keith clutches at your sides and leads you backwards. 

You trust that he knows the layout.

Your mind has boiled down to simple desires. 

“Keith,” you mumble against his mouth as he guides your hips against his and you feel his cock beneath the fabric. It goes straight to your ego: straight to your pussy. 

More heat. It’s unbearable how much your body throbs and you moan against him, against his lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling.

“Mhm,” he asks, just as overcome with lust as you were. Keith tilts his head up, and you kiss his jaw, kiss the side of his throat, nipping at the flesh and enjoying the breathy moans he makes as your knees hit the bed. 

You want more. 

You move your hands to his shoulders, “let's get this off,” you utter softly, pushing at his jacket. 

“Okay,” he replies, crowding you against his bed until you have no choice but to sit down. Keith discards his jacket, and pulls his shirt over his head. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. It’s dark. You can’t see him well. You still react like a charged electron. 

“Now you,” Keith states simply, not exactly a command. It was nice, the lack of mind games and subterfuge. 

You scoot up further on the bed, shrugging your bomber jacket off. 

He’s watching. 

Awkwardness creeps up on you. There was no sexy way to take off a sports bra. 

You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. Then you peel off your sports bra. The elastic worked too well. 

Keith’s sitting up on his knees.

“You’re beautiful,” he states.

“Come here,” you utter, inviting him closer. 

He complies readily, cupping your cheek and kissing your mouth eagerly, closer to a lover than a random encounter. 

You grab his other hand, guiding him up to your chest, to your breast. Keith runs his thumb over your nipple, gooseflesh rises on your skin. He trails bruising kisses down your throat. 

Your breath catches in your throat. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you, savoring the feel of his chest against yours. 

“Fuck,” you groan as Keith bites down hard at the crook of your neck, harder than you’d expected. 

He stills. “I’m-I,” making to pull away.

“No,” you reach for him, tilting his head up as you move to straddle his waist, “it’s okay. I just didn’t expect it.”

“I won’t do it again,” he stammers out. 

“I didn't say I didn't like it.” You push him down against the bed, topping him. “Just warn a girl.”

Keith wraps his hands around your hips, tugging at the waistband of your trousers. “These are kind of in the way.”

Laughing, you reply, “could say the same to you.” Your hands pop the button of his jeans. 

It’s a fumble to pull your trousers down. Neither of you care, eager to get on with it. He shoves his jeans down his legs along with his boxers. 

You straddle Keith, completely naked and lean down to capture his lips against yours. His cock twitches against your thigh and your toes curl up. His tongue runs over your top lip, you part your mouth, letting him in. 

You cup his cheeks between your hands, your hips rolling against his. 

He thrusts feverishly against you. His fingers dig into your bare hips, skin against skin. 

“Come here,” Keith utters hoarsely, “I wanna fuck you.” 

“Think I’d rather ride you,” you reply back breathlessly.

“You can do that after,” he whines, a rumble emanating from his chest but your head is too fucked up to make sense of it. 

You sit up, hands on his chest. “That’s presumptuous of you.” 

Keith grins, wrapping his hands around your wrists, and rolls you over so he’s on top. “Is it,” he asks rhetorically as his hand reaches between your thighs, ghosting over the wetness of your pussy, “when you’re this wet?”

You moan, canting your hips, cashing the feel of his hand, wanting relief. It was a mounting pressure in your belly, a forest fire under your skin and you needed Keith. “Okay. yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes when Keith bent his head and licked a stripe from your nipple to your collarbone. You whimper, lost in the sensation. 

“Tell me what you want,” Keith asks. 

“Fuck me. Please fuck me,” you utter, you hands clutchinf at his shoulders, bringing him flush agaisnt you. 

Keith aquieses. 

You bend your knees, spreading your legs as he positions his cock. 

“Oh fuck,” Keith mutters as he pushes into you. 

Fuck indeed. You moan his name without thought, closing your eyes and laying your head back against the bed. His cock fills you up, sliding into your pussy with ease given how turned on you were. 

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he stretches you out. 

“God, yes,” you utter dazed. 

Keith moves his hips. You roll your hips up to meet him. He nips at your collarbone as he thrusts into you with favour. 

As promised he fucks you.

Keith captures your mouth in a kiss that catches the moans you make as he reaches between you and runs his thumb over your clit. His pace, the way he was kissing you madly. . .the heat that had been building since you’d met him comes crashing down. 

You come. 

Leaving you boneless. 

“Keith,” you whimper.

“Sh,” he tells you, kissing the shell of your ear, “let me make you feel good.”

“You..sort of already did,” you utter completely fucked out. 

“Turn over.” Keith says even as he’s already helping you move, his arms supporting your weight. He presses his lips on the back of your neck, as he grabs a pillow and sets it under you. 

You bring up your knees, laying on your legs, “thought I was going to go next,” you tease, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair. 

He stills, “if you. . .”

“No. No,” you shrug, “I did ask you to fuck me.”

Keith runs his hands over your shoulders, sliding down your sides. He squeezes your ass with his hands. 

“Best two out of three,” you offer, half joking half serious because while you were still blissed out from having just orgasmed, you could already feel your pussy clench with anticipation. Seriously, the effect he had on you-

You can feel his smile against your skin, “If you think you can handle it.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you reply, arching your back into him, titling your head back, and pulling his hair so you could kiss him. It was sloppy, and the angle was awkward, but none of it mattered when Keith stroked your pussy with his fingers, dipping into your wet folds. 

Already stimulated, you shudder with pleasure. 

Your tongue strokes his in an open mouthed kiss. He tastes as good as he smells, Keith filling up your senses like an incense stick wafting through a room. 

He wraps an arm around your chest, his hand caressing your breast, pulling you against his chest, both of you melding together. Keith thrusts his cock into you again. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, hand fisting the sheets of his bed, moaning into his mouth. 

It was a combination of his cock in you, his thumb rolling your nipple in his hand, that set you aflame. 

You couldn’t get enough, your hips jerking back, up to meet his. Keith fucks you against the bed. 

He palms your breast in his hand, pulling you up to him, keeping you close as he plants a kiss at the juncture of your ear and jaw, on the side of your neck whilst nipping the skin and you moan, his cock hitting just the right spot as he slams into you. 

First he grows comfortable, pulling almost entirely out before thrusting hard as he finds a pace that leaves you both a mess. 

“Right there, right there,” you utter. 

“Tell me how good I make you feel.”

He punctuates his words with a roll of his hips, his fingers draw a circle around your clit without giving you the satisfaction you desperately seek, already building up to another climax. 

You nod jerkily. “So fucking good Keith. Your cock feels so fucking good,” you manage to reply.

He speeds up, faster, deeper, at your words. The bedframe, bolted down into the floor, creaks. 

“Just like that.” You moan wantonly. “Right there.”

He responds to your words, pulling out to the head of his cock, teasing your entrance just so before slamming back in.

You shut your eyes and whimper, over sensitive to your very marrow. It was too much. Keith was trailing kisses down your spine, his breath warm, his cock twitching inside your filling every inch of your pussy up. 

With a shudder, you come, stars behind your eyelids and short circuiting. You never knew sex could be this amazing. Not in real life. 

You got what people meant about the right partner. 

The right sexual energy to match. 

You collapse, a puppet with its strings cut. Keith’s hand across your chest is the only thing keeping you from melding into the mattress like a blob. His hips thrust against your ass mindlessly, chasing his own climax.

With another couple of thrusts, his hips snapping against you, Keith moans your name and comes undone behind you. 

He comes inside you, hot and sticky.

His hand grasps the back of your neck, holding you in place as he comes inside you. It’s unexpectedly hot. You didn’t know you could like this in bed. 

You didn’t know how much you liked an obstinate expression with wide eyes until you met Keith. He had the type of soulful eyes you could drown in. 

He had drawn out something in you that you hadn’t even been aware of. 

Your thoughts center on him as he finishes inside you. 

“You take my dick so good,” he says with a surprising amount of softness for what amounts to a one night stand and a pang strikes your chest, wishing you had met him under better circumstances where there might be-

Keith gets off you, slumping next to you on the bed. 

There’s a thrum of satisfaction running through you as you look at his face in profile. The insane idea that you might just stay and cuddle plants itself. 

That was impossible.

It was time to cut and run.

Sure, he’d fucked you. But he was also still half a stranger. No matter how jumbled your thoughts were, you refused to give into the pull he had on you. 

You wanted to lay there with him. 

Keith blinks slowly, looking as blissed out as you feel, reaching out a hand towards you, but stopping himself halfway. 

You feel a little disappointed, but say nothing. It was just a one off thing you remind yourself, no matter how you felt. 

Now that you can think a little more clearly, though the sensation remains like a lump in your throat that starts there no matter how much you swallow, you glance around the dark room. Only the barest red lights on the floor illuminate enough to cast shadows. 

Keith’s own eyes reflect the light like a cat. Just a glimmer of traffic sign yellow. 

But you’re too tired to think, so you file it away in your head under the nebulous details you’ve learned about the red paladin.  

You blink, grimancing as Keith’s come runs down your thigh onto the sheets. At least they weren’t yours. 

He closes his eyes. 

“I’d say sorry about the mess,” you break the easy silence lulling you into staying there, “but it's your fault,” you tease way too familiarly. 

Keith sounds embarrassed when he utters, “sorry about that. I can get carried away.”

You smile softly, tracing over his shadowed form with your eyes but resisting the urge to reach out. That part was over. “It was good.”

“You did mention.” 

So he could joke. 

You giggle in the darkness that envelopes the room. You were good at being friendly and taking charge but you understood the hesitancy to open up to people you just met. 

Keith’s chest makes a rumbling sound akin to a cheetah purring. 

You try and hold onto the thought, sure it means something, but the sound draws you in and you lose the battle against yourself, curling up into his side. 

He takes this as the permission it is, and tangles his limbs with yours. 

A thrum of warmth surges where Keith’s skin touches you and you’re not sure if its his running warm or if it's all in your head or-

your eyes drift closed. 

He’s purring.

You know Keith would be embarrassed if you pointed it out. 

So you say nothing. 

Everything seemed so intangible anyhow. The world had been turned down a notch. The post orgasm glow remained unrivalled. 

Even a hit from a bong didn’t measure up. 

Your first time had been a real embarrassment (you hadn’t managed to get the boy’s cock in you), this was just a weird quirk of his, and it was soothing. 

You close your eyes. 

Keith’s breathing is deep and steady, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but don’t feel pressured to check. 

It was nice, not scurrying off, not being more than a little drunk. War was exhausting. Earth had only been in it for less than three years. No wonder some aliens were in such shit moods. 

You exhale. 

There’s no way to mark the passage of time. 

The bed shifts under you. Keith runs the back of his hand gently over your shoulder.

Your eyes flutter open.

“So would this be round two or three,” you ask lightly.

Keith smiles lightly, “you did say…”

“I did,” you laugh easily, blushing, the flush creeping from your cheeks to the tips of your ears. 

You swing a leg over his waist, straddling him, but not without feeling the start of a soreness in your legs. It doesn’t deter you. 

Keith lays back, watching you through his lashes as you sit up. He looks lovely. 

You lean down and kiss his mouth, reaching for his cock with your hands. He was already half hard when you wrap your hand around his shaft. 

His breath hitches in his throat as you move your hand. It’s been a moment since you’d jerk anyone, but it’s not rocket science. You press kisses down his throat, moving your hand firmly up and down his length until he’s completely hard. You nip at his collarbone, marking him the way he’d left bruising kiss all over you. 

His cock twitches in your hand, Keith’s hips thrusting up into you. 

Anticipation builds in your belly, but you want to set the pace, stay in charge. So you still your movements.

Keith whines under you, his hands holding your waist.

“Be a good boy for me,” you tell him. “Can you do that?”

“Mm.”

“Use your words.”

“Yeah,” he manages hoarsely, “I can be good.”

You smile, lining him up against your entrance. You shift your hips, teasing his cock against your wet folds, closing your eyes as you moan at the feeling. 

Keith thrusts up, trying to get more friction.

You still wanting to drag it out. Though your thighs ached and your pussy throbbed and you wondering if you should just-

You rub his cockhead against your pussy, “oooOH,” you moan. Your nails scratch his chest lightly, trying to steady yourself. Your heart raced, back arching down to him.

“Come here,” Keith groans, his fingers trailing up, asking for more, his hand on the small of your back. 

You give in, sinking down onto his cock. 

He moans your name, shutting his eyes. 

It’s pornographic, the way Keith rises up to meet you, hips bucking against yours, the expanse of his pale throat. 

You roll your hips slowly, fucking yourself on his cock. At this angle, the way he filled you- 

“Fuck,” Keith moans, “you feel so good.”

“I could say the same,” you reply, sliding against his hips, picking up speed. You hold yourself up, hand on his chest.

You suck in a breath as his cock thrusts into you. Static filled your head as you chased your pleasure, grinding against him. You tilt your head back, moaning his name, everything but Keith becoming background noise. 

He palms your breast.

Your breath hitches when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and finger.

“Ah,” you sigh. 

Your stomach was taunt. 

He doesn’t go further. You sort of wish he would. You trusted Keith not to hurt you. . .too badly. 

The idea excites you, as he wraps his hand around your throat. 

You match him, curling your fingers in his hair and pulling hard, “look at me,” you try and order but your voice is a whine. You’re too hot and heavy to think. 

His cock twitches inside you, filling you up and fuck it felt good to be streched out. 

Keith’s thumb strokes the side of your throat, his grip firm. “Do you like this,” he asks, his gaze heavy on you. He was entirely concentrated on you. It was like being worshipped. 

It sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“I wouldn’t mind if you got rougher,” you admit, finding it easy to trust him.

He looks away. 

You falter. Had you read things wrong? 

Keith bucks his hips up against you and you let the thought go, sinking onto his cock and groaning, “Keith…” 

It was easy to let go when it felt this good. His hand around your throat, fingers digging into your hips, you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow. Not that anyone would be able to tell from over your uniform. 

A shudder runs down your spine, you squirm on his cock mindlessly, thinking about bruises in the shape of his hands, about the marks on your neck you could already feel blooming on your skin. Heat surges in your chest, something primal as your thoughts linger there. 

You nails run down his chest, leaving shallow scratches as you try and get a better hold, desperately grinding against Keith, down on the bed, his cock ramming into you. “Fuck,” you think, “fuck. . .Keith. . .”

You can’t stand it. 

The pressure in your stomach, the heat scorching your pussy, the sound of Keith’s whines and moans, your name tumbling out of his mouth like a hymn that raised your heart beat, blood pounding in your ears. 

Keith squeezes your neck, your throat bobs under his fingers and fuck-

You come. 

Your legs tremble, unable to support you any longer as you collapse, a quivering mess on Keith. His hands move down to grip your thighs, pulling you down flush against him, down to the hilt of his cock as he comes, moaning erotically. 

The thread of heat doesn’t dissipate entirely as you rest on his chest, boneless and sticky with sweat, but it relaxes and you breath the scent of him in instead of pulling away entirely. 

Keith strokes a hand down your spine, an afterthought, “that was. . .” 

“Yeah.” You’re exhausted. 

You close your eyes, listening to the inhuman rumble of Keith’s chest as it rises and falls with every breath you take. 

You end up slipping out. The halls are in the light cycle, but no one bothers you as you walk. 

Getting up the next morning is hell. 

Your legs are sore, and that’s not even mentioning how much your pussy hurts when you take a step. You take a dose of painkillers still remaining from your injury and check your messages. 

Nothing from earth. 

That was expected. 

The meager universal communications were taken up by the war effort. You still sent your family messages, even if it was just one way. It was a way to keep in touch. It felt like watching starlight and knowing it was millions of years old, a form of time travel. 

You shower. 

Keith’s come was a mess on the inside of your thighs and the thought is not as gross as it should be, your skin warming up, zapped by static. You run your fingers over your clit and fuck yourself in the shower thinking of the red paladin and his come.

You get out, brushing your hair out, not looking in the mirror at the purple hickies spread out like a constellation on your chest, and realize how weird you were being. 

Come was gross. 

You hated swallowing so you never did. The tentative relationships at the garrison had been short, you had all been teenagers, and now anything that happened was a one off thing sometimes involving aliens. 

You swallow, gripping the counter of your sink. You were horny again. 

No. 

Not going there. 

No space weirdness this morning. 

Because you’re on leave for the space equivalent of 6 or 5 days, you don’t have much to do. You get food. It had taken getting used to, and figuring out which brightly colored pastel goo thing was good, but there was a variety. You still had no clue what was plants or animals up in space. 

The more liberated planets, the more supplies trickled in. Pirates loved to take a cut. 

You eat as soldiers stop by to refuel, fill up on supplies. Despite the stress, you missed being out on the front. Being out of the action sucked. 

Sitting around on a spaceship was boring. 

It wasn’t like they had shops or movie theaters. Walking around too much ended up with you being in the way. 

You clench your jaw, feeling feverish. 

And you had just been getting better. . .

You shove the thought away. 

You end up watching space TV: reality TV shows like Galra Ninja Warrior and nature docu series on plants, some you’ve been on, before finally sliding your hand under the waistband of your trousers and rubbing your clit. 

It takes the edge off, but the heat’s still there, pressed up in the pit of your stomach, cheeks flushes and you sigh, unsatisfied as you click to something other than the marine biomes of Kmeolsuahr. For aliens larger than a schoolbus, they were peaceful creatures. Since they were filter feeders, agriculture had never developed a hold on their planet, but water generators were plentiful. 

Yet another show starring Galra. It was the most common type of show in the Empire. Hijacking communications had given this traveling spaceship TV. You were glad for it now. 

You curl up, the communicator snug around your wrist translating everything instantaneously. It was the part in the soap where there has to be a duel for honor. What a load of crap. 

The two Galra circle each other, close ups of their face like a mexican stand-off. Through TV you got to know the Glara in the empire as more than just soldiers. Spending time in the camps taught you that even Galra citizens could be arrested for treasonous statements against Zarkon. 

They make growling alien sounds, something between a jaguar and a sound not found on earth, an underlying clicking that raises the hairs on the back of your neck. 

You connect the dots. 

The glowing eyes, the purrs and rumbles, and whatever weird alien thing was going on: the red paladin was part Galra. 

Only that made no sense. 

He was from Earth. 

First contact had been what, when the paladins had disappeared? When the Kerberos mission had been abducted, and boy had that made fringe conspiracy theorists happy. . .how could he be part Galra? 

Was it even your problem?

Surely this would go away. . .

You were leaving in a little over five days. 

You curl up and watch TV until you fall asleep, determined to enjoy the rest while it lasted and your weren’t trudging through waist deep mud. 

“Read through the debrief,” a commander with a nebulous rank above you asks. In your line of work, so much was redacted. Information gathering was a fancy way of saying spy. It was why you worked so closely with the rebels. 

You don’t even blink at the slight pale easter egg yellow alien, ears that resembled hair, long and droopy like a rabbit: there were four of them. You’d met stranger. “Yeah. Long mission.”

You were not looking forward to being on a planet with an inhospitable surface. A sun close enough that set the surface on fire with it’s rays, no thanks. 

Still, it was your assignment. 

“It is vital.”

They always said that. 

It seemed to be extracting some key players. Who they were remained unknown until you had to know. It was a lot of flying blind to keep information from leaking to the wrong ears. Loose lips sink ships and all that jazz. 

“I’ll treat it that way,” you nod, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth. It would be fun flying a hijacked Galra fighter ship. The planet was pretty deep in Empire controlled space. 

“And,” the alien looks you up and down like a Garrison RA finding a stain on your uniform during morning inspection, “get rid of that scent.”

“What,” you ask plainly, “scent.”

The alien raises a hairless muscle over its eye. The gesture is human enough. “Voltron has docked here.” 

It was subterfuge. Both of you were in the same line of work, you could do this dance in your sleep. “As far as I know, yes.” You are careful to keep your expression neutral, feeling stupid for not having used negating get. It wasn’t even rationed, but used pretty widely. There were many aliens who relied primarily on scent, and those whose sense of smell was far sharper than yours. 

“Mm.”

You hold their gaze. 

You weren’t one to waver.

“Any further questions?”

“None.”

“Good.”

You walk blithely back to your room, intending to shower, again, and probably take care of the warmth in your gut. The heat was like an uncomfortable itch under your skin that stubbornly remained no matter how much you ignored it. 

How was it even possible that Keith was any part alien let alone Galra? You were pretty sure the entire planet would have known if the Galra arrived on the planet. 

It was intriguing. 

Your mind drew up the details you knew, trying to make them fit. It was half mental exercise, half the urge to actually get to the bottom of this. Keith didn’t look half Glara like Prince Lotor and his gang of misfits. . .quarter, one sixteenth. . .

Occam's Razor. 

The mystery occupied your mind as you made it back to your quarters. 

Keith is pacing outside your door. 

How did he even know where your quarters were?

“Did you sniff your way here,” you ask, genuinely curious. Maybe the traits might not be apparent. . .just how Galra was the red paladin. You were reminded again how little you actually knew him. 

Understanding fills his eyes; he knew you knew. Keith looks over at you for a second before ducking his head dejectedly, a straw dog expecting to be run off. 

Your heart ached. 

How a paladin of Voltron could be so self conscious despite going toe to toe with the Empire on a daily basis. . .you didn’t know. They were only flesh and blood after all. 

You take pity on him, “so is this going to be a thing,” the corners of your mouth lift into a small smile. You were still a little sore. You wouldn’t mind going another few rounds. . .

But you needed to clear some things up first. 

Just how much of this between you was space Galra funkiness? 

Keith snorts, looking up, meeting your searching gaze. His shoulders were still tense, unsure that you weren’t about to tell him to shove off. Not the loner type entirely by choice then, his innate awkwardness must have made it hard to connect. 

It wasn’t a problem you’d ever had, rushing into everything headfirst, taking charge. 

“Not like there’s a lot of humans to choose from up here,” he says self-deprecatingly. 

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I’m down for some alien funkiness,” you answer evenly, taking a step towards him. He inhales sharply, looking away again, this time in thought. 

The lines of his face increase, clearly uncomfortable, frowning. 

“I can’t usually,” Keith admits in a tense voice, “smell this well. . .though I can smell better than Shiro.”

“Shiro?”

“The black paladin,” he explains, surprised he has to explain at all. 

You answer his unvoiced question, “everyone tends to focus on the color of the lion rather than the pilot inside.”

“Oh. That’s dumb.” He looks a little relieved at the anonymity that grants. 

“Is it just me then,” you ask, getting to the bottom of things. 

He nods, meeting your gaze. “I don’t know why but I can’t stop thinking of fucking you,” he says without ceremony. 

You find yourself blushing. The connection went both ways, the very alien connection. “Don’t hate me but I think we should go to the medic.” 

Keith frowns. “Or we could just fuck.”

“That horny,” you tease, raising a brow, “or was I just that good?”

Keith cusps a hand against your cheek, his thumb running over your lips. 

Your mouth parts, the tip of your tongue grazing his thumb. 

“So you don’t want to fuck,” Keith asks, a playful smirk on his lips. 

You swallow, the urge to say yes right there as his touch on you entranced you, sending desire cascading through your body down to your toes. “This isn’t just alien weirdness is it?” You wanted it to be more. 

“No,” he shakes his head, his breath mingling with yours. “That’s-I’m not that impulsive.”

“Good,” you mutter, pressing your body against his, and opening the door to your room.

[spacedikut]

Derek would ask Spencer to explain how he feels about u to try and get him to understand that he’s in love with you but Spencer would just be like... is that not friendship?

god this idea is so fucking good but. i didn’t do it justice cause i went down a way more serious route :p 1.4k words, gn!reader

the team have been trying tirelessly to get spencer to just... see. what the rest of them see. the longing, lingering looks and requests to work together, the subtle touches that are so sweet in themselves but, with the added knowledge that spencer is Spencer, its...well, the team knows what they see. spencer is just lagging behind a little.

they try a whole plethora of methods. everyone talks to him and spencer either doesn’t connect the dots or simply says “we’re just friends!” and emily gets so frustrated she flicks spencer on the forehead and leaves a mark (i ask you picture pure, innocent spencer sat at his desk, watching emily’s retreating form with nothing but a puppy-dog confused expression and a red dent in the middle of his forehead).

penelope is at her wits end, so derek decides to step up and retry a very basic method: talking spencer through how he feels for you. surely he’s self-aware enough that he’ll hear himself and hear how un-friendlike it all sounds and... tada! love.

but it’s never quite as easy as you’ll think it’ll be, is it?

spencer should’ve known something was amiss when derek asked him if he wanted to hang out and let him choose where they would go - spencer? being allowed to choose where to hang out after work? have you ever heard of something called a red flag?

so spencer chooses a cafe which - immediately, the second they step through the doorway - spencer has a joy to him, telling derek about the last time you and him came here and what you ordered and what you thought of it and all these details that even the most attentive best friend wouldn’t think were anything more than trivial matters. he remembers the shape you tore your napkin into, for goodness sake. in what realm is that friendly behaviour?

then, to make matters worse, spencer, mid-walk to a table in the corner by a large window, abruptly changes directions, making derek almost spill his coffee. spencer apologies, then says they can’t sit in that booth cause that’s where you and spencer sit and - well. that’s your and spencer’s place, you can’t disrupt that! friends! friendly things and friends doing friendly stuff. friendship.

derek gives this scoff that spencer is so used to he barely reacts. when they sit, spencer is acutely aware that derek is staring - furrowed brows and this intense, firm gaze that only appears when he’s thinking. spencer’s only slightly intimidated. 

he’s never been able to lie to derek. he’s never been a good liar, period. he’s good at omissions and burying himself and his emotions but, god, if someone asks just the right question, he’ll fold like the cheap deckchair he truly is.

and derek... derek knows spencer better than he knows himself sometimes.

(is there anyone else that has similar qualities? no. of course not. only his best pal derek and not a colleague/very pretty person known as You)

a question. a question is all it takes.

“so, you and y/n come here a lot?”

derek’s starting light and spencer is so enthralled at the mention of you every worry he had about why he’s here with derek and why derek is looking at him like that flies out the window. 

“we do! actually, it’s the perfect meeting spot; the most convenient distance between our apartments and we both have favourite drinks here. we’ve become regulars, actually, so we make a habit of coming at least once a week at a minimum-“

and he keeps going, sweetly reminiscing about the first time you visited to the silly games you’ve created - because you’ll spend that long here, sitting opposite each other and just each other - and derek wonders how spencer doesn’t see it. doesn’t see the way he lights up at the mention of you, rambles like you’re a statistic spencer’s known for years and can’t help but bestow on everyone at every opportunity, not to mention the physical reaction he has to you. you’re not even present and spencer is wide-eyed, rosy cheeked, permanent curl to either side of his lips that looks involuntary.

he’s in love with you. his entire self, from head to toe, from mind to soul. everyone can see it, except you and him, apparently.

“they make you happy, huh?”

“well, obviously,” spencer hehs, “they’re my best friend.”

there’s an opportunity here, shyly gleaming from the corner of the conversation and derek digs it out. “you got a definition for best friend, reid?”

spencer’s taking a sip of his drink, but is happy to share his knowledge. he’s not quite as bright when he’s saying it. “a best friend has many definitions. friendship itself is usually defined as a relationship of mutual affection between people - it is a stronger form of interpersonal bond than an association, and has been studied in multiple academic fields-“

derek hums, encouraging him to keep going. he’ll get there.

and he does, after delving a little too far into the nature versus nurture debate.

“id consider you a best friend. jj, too. and garcia, of course. except... except with y/n it’s- it’s different.”

derek pretends to be shocked. “how’s that?”

“well... they have all the qualities id want in a friend - honesty, generosity, empathy...humour-“ spencer smiles to himself, small and intimate, remembering an inside joke between the two of you. “but they’re more than that, too. they’re there for me - not-not that you guys aren’t there for me too-“ derek just raises an eyebrow. “but...it’s different, with them. it always is.”

the shift of topic from friendship to you has spencer unfocused on his surroundings, eyes glazed over as he stares to the side of derek, who feels like he’s intruding - he rarely understands what goes on in that big head of spencer’s, vast in it’s knowledge and memories and self-perception, but right now he’s confident he does. 

it’s you. he’s thinking of you, the moments you have together - perhaps in this very cafe - that are reserved for spencer and spencer alone, a side of you derek will never know because it’s not his to know; it’s spencer’s, just as spencer is yours.

his voice is level but distant, the warning signs of that magnificent mind finding the pieces and putting them together. “i think-i think about them often. how they are, what they’re doing, if they’re thinking of me too. i know they’re only a text message away or-or, on cases, a few feet away... i guess i don’t want to seem clingy. or desperate.”

“they’d never think that. you know that, right?”

“i know. i-i know that. but-i don’t... i can’t.. i don’t want to risk losing them, i guess. one wrong move and they’ll realise what a-what a complete mess i am. ill unravel and they’ll see all the dark inside and they... they don’t deserve that.”

derek goes to interrupt, because god is spencer wrong, but he doesn’t have the chance.

“they deserve love and laughter and everything i can’t give them if they... if they get too close.” now, spencer brings himself to look derek in the eye. there’s a seriousness there, a solemn stand that spencer doesn’t often take. “i can’t lose them, morgan. i can’t.” his hands tighten around his coffee cup. “i want them here, with me, for as long as i can convince them to stay. i don’t want to be selfish, i don’t- i don’t mean to be, but. i want this. i want them. every day for the rest of my life, i want them. i choose them. im just terrified they’ll see me and... they won’t choose me.”

there’s an expected silence that befalls the two of them, the busting background noise of the cafe the only moving piece. does he get it now? does he understand what has motivated every thought and feeling? every worry and action?

“reid,” derek says, softly, in a tone that has spencer straightening his back. “that’s not... that’s not just friendship. you know that, right? you can see that?”

spencer blinks. 

no. you’re friends - close friends, yes, but friends nonetheless.

but he thinks back to what he’s just said - 

he’d say the same for jj, right? for penelope, and for derek. even gideon, perhaps.

except... no. he wouldn’t. it’s for you, he’s for you, all of it and all of him.

and then the picture is as clear as day. no fog, no obscurity, no hesitance - and spencer’s relieved. relieved that finally, finally, he can put all of his feelings into one simple sentence.

“im in love with them.”

“yeah,” derek says, leaning back against the booth. “yeah, reid, you are.”

[spiderling-space]

This idea is inspired by @zozobegone ‘s this post 

Setting: Grim goes platonic yandere mode when he realizes MC is going to go back to their world

It is written from Grimm's perspective

Italics indicate thoughts

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

The Great Grimm

Warning: Unhealthy dependency and friendship

"Henchperson, give me those candies!" Grimm ordered (Y/N) after trying so many times to reach the top shelf.

"Aw, you couldn't reach yourself?" (Y/N) had seen Grimm jumping and trying to climb to take the candies. They didn't do anything but watch him fail for the last 10 minutes, they couldn't help themselves as he was being so cute. "What's the magic word?"

After grumbling a little, Grimm spoke coercively, "Please..."

"That's a good boy!" They patted him on the head before grabbing the candies and giving them to him. 

He started devouring them the moment he got his hand on the candies. He thanked them quickly before focusing entirely on his food. They were just so delicious, he couldn't resist it!

"Honestly Grimm, what will you do once I'm gone?" They sighed as they took a seat in the kitchen.

The words didn't register for Grimm at first. "Eh?" He stopped eating for a moment and looked at them. "What nonsense are you babbling about?"

"Hmm? Oh! Well, you know, it's been months and lots of progress have been done. Crowley finding a way for me to return home is right around the corner." They spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That birdman doesn't do anything but whine and pin all the tasks on us."

"I convinced him to do the actual work and he made a progress on finding a way for me to go home." (Y/N) stood up, walking toward him and kneeling to his height. "I'll give you a secret, I haven't told anyone this." They gulped before smiling, "Crowley found the way for me to go back. We just need ingredients and get some tests done then I'll be able to go back. I haven't told others about it yet because I wanted to have something concrete but since you are like my second family, I wanted you to know first."

Huh, he thought.

Grimm continued eating, ignoring what (Y/N) had said who got up and left the kitchen after sharing their secret. At that moment, it didn't bug him at all since he thought they were joking.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

It didn't even pass a week that (Y/N) started to tell the others that they would be leaving soon and ask their help to get the ingredients and spend their last days together. Meanwhile, Grimm became more and more irritable as the days passed by.

Grimm didn't have a family nor a friend. When he opened his eyes to the world, he was in a back alley by just himself. He fended for himself and decided to become the greatest magician when he heard people talking about Night Raven Collage. He didn't have anyone who supported his dream nor he needed one. He would accomplish it on his own and show everyone how great he was. Of course, things didn't go as planned and he got thrown off the moment he revealed his true self at the entrance ceremony and was even threatened to get eaten. What's worse was that when he returned to NRC, showing the persistence of an NRC student, he was about to be thrown again. That would be the case if it weren't for (Y/N) sticking up for him. He wasn't a sentimental monster and he hated to be called cat by (Y/N) despite his catly activities as they called it. However, deep down he knew it was because of (Y/N) that he became a student in the NRC, getting one step closer to achieving his dream. Heck, he and (Y/N) were considered one student together.

It wasn't just (Y/N) creating him an opportunity that made him care about them, it was everything. They studied together; they slept on the same bed, shared meals and snacks, played games, did homework, complained about the school and students together. Not to mention, how much he enjoyed getting petted, belly rubbed and washed by them. They had each other when no one was around and always stood against overblot student together. In Grimm's eyes, they were an inseparable and astonishing duo; even a family he never had, not that he would say it out loud.

Maybe that was why he was miffed by everything that was going on... What would happen to me if (Y/N) were to go back? Become alone again? Get kicked out of NRC? Have no friends and family? No, that's not going to happen!

As the days passed, the attention he got from (Y/N) diminished gradually, came to a point that he only saw them in classes and when they got back. They were out with another person every day, not sparing enough time for the Great Grimm. 

How dare they, he thought while heatedly huffing and puffing on the couch.

Grimm dearly missed the old times when (Y/N) wasn't obsessed with going back. He didn't even receive enough petting last few days nor they studied together. His mind wandered to their time spent together when he noticed something. (Y/N) would leave everything behind regardless of how important it was when he got into serious trouble or got hurt. They would sweep in to save his neck. It just clicked at that moment. 

He would get into trouble or injured to get their attention on him. However, then the other minions would gather around them too and their attention would be divided. It was not something he wanted. An idea struck in his head after a few minutes of thinking. As expected out of the Great Grimm, it was a brilliant plan.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

"Oh my goodness, Grimm! What happened to your paw-paw?!" (Y/N) rushed to his side, kneeling and examining his paw.

Grimm grumbled acting as if he didn't want to tell them. "Nothing, Great Grimm is fine!"

"Don't be ridiculous! It looks broken!" The worry on (Y/N)'s face was gratifying since he got their attention back.

"Ask your best friends," He answered with faux melancholy, withdrawing his paw near his chest and turning back as if he would leave.

"What does that supposed to mean?" They asked, confussion evident on their face just like Grimm wanted.

"Azul tricked them into doing his work and asked them to collect all the feathers on the roof. Ace and Deuce took me with them then we got into a fight and I fell off the roof." He lowered his head for extra effect.

"And they didn't even take you to the infirmary?!" He managed to get them riled up.

"It was my fault th-"

"That's not an excuse! For fuck's sake! C'mon, we are going to the infirmary." (Y/N) wrapped their arms around Grimm and lifted him en route to the hospital wing.

"Hey (Y/N)! Do you -"

"I can't believe what you two did!"

"What we did?" Deuce mumbled, fearing their wrath.

"Don't talk to me for some time and at least take responsibility and apologize!" (Y/N) stormed off before Ace could finish his sentence. Both Ace and Deuce look perplexed as (Y/N) marched away. Grimm was looking at them over (Y/N)'s shoulder, taking in their puzzled looks and flashing a grin as (Y/N) walked away.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

For the next two weeks, Grimm continues with his plan.

"I swallowed a lot of soapy water." Grimm said as he was rubbing his belly, it genuinely hurt. Swallowing soapy water was more awful than hurting his paw.

"Azul! You promised to not do this and shame on you Jade, Floyd!"

3 more down, plenty to go...

"Leona, have you seen Grimm? He is way smaller than you! How couldn't you realize what your claws would do on Grimm?"

"Ruggie, Grimm got food poisoning because of you! You could have just stolen his food instead of replacing them with expired ones."

"Jack, I've never expected this from you. I'm very disappointed."

"What? What are you talking about?" Jack asked hastily but it fell on deaf ears as (Y/N) didn't even listen to him, grabbing Grimm and leaving them standing.

Woo hoo! My plan is working fantastically! 

"He could have died Kalim if it were higher!"

"Jamil, I thought you would stop making people poison taste. Grimm has been puking all day long because of you!"

Grimm grinned wickedly as he was once again carried by (Y/N).

Wait until I'm done with all of you! HAHA, You cannot defeat me!

Grimm was thinking of new original ways to distance (Y/N) from the rest of Heartslabyul, Pomefiore, Ignihyde and Diasomnia. The last one would be the hardest as he had a powerful competitor who also sought (Y/N)'s attention but it didn't matter, Grim would be the only one!

That was what he thought until Birdman came bearing the news...

"(Y/N)! Good news! All the tests we did on the mirror worked! You can go back now!"

Everything stopped right there and then. 

Grimm was so focused on getting (Y/N)'s affection and attention that he forgot about the tests they were doing on the mirror.

Now I am too late...

"My goodness! Thank you! I missed my home so much! I'll start saying my goodbyes!" (Y/N) spoke rapidly, they truly were happy to hear the news.

Happy to leave me all alone!

"No worries, they all gather around the magic mirror, waiting for you." Birdman informed, "Are you coming now?"

"Yes!" (Y/N) said before turning to him, taking him in arms and carrying him outside.

That is not how it was supposed to go...

As they were walking outside before leaving the Ramshackle perimeter, Grimm jumped on the ground.

"What's wrong?" (Y/N) stopped to ask.

"What's wrong?!" Grimm couldn't contain it anymore. everything was too much.

"(Y/N), do you need a moment to say goodbye to the dorm?" Birdman questioned, getting closer to where they were standing.

"Uhm... yes... I mean I spent months here so I should say goodbye to it. You can go, we will catch up in a moment."

With that Birdman walked away, leaving (Y/N) and Grimm alone.

"Is there something you wanted to talk about?" They asked idiotically. 

Are they too dumb to understand?

As Grimm was about to tell them what was on his mind, unfiltered, he felt a power within himself. A power that wanted to surge out of him and he let it since he had nothing to lose anymore.

"You will leave me all alone!"

"But you already knew that, Grimm. This place isn't my home and if I took you with me, you would be discovered and people would do experiments on you." Their voice was so soft as they tried to reason with him but none of them mattered.

"We are one student together, you can't leave until I graduate!" The power inside of him grew even more.

"Well, Crowley said he-"

"We fought the monsters together. We are a team, you called me your son!" He could feel that power getting closer

"I-" He wasn't going to let them speak anymore!

"So you see me as a family but you abandon me!" He felt the power leak outside and he didn't even care about it.

"GRIMM!" (Y/N) yelled, taking a few steps back. "I, I, I changed my mind, we will be together!"

"You want me to have no one again!" Grim screamed, not even noticing how his voice changed. "AAAAAHHH!"

Everything went black for a moment and the second he reopened his eyes, everything was different. He was no longer looking up to (Y/N); he now was looking down on them. They were so tiny.

"YOU CANNOT LEAVE!" Grimm screeched when he saw (Y/N) backing and running away. He jumped, landing right in front of them who fell on the ground from the shock and still trying to crawl away.

"G-Gr-Gr-Grim, i-i-it's me! We are friends, remember? I know you wouldn't hurt me because we are family, innit?"

"It is too late for everything but you are right. We are family..." Grimm said, his voice echoing, giving it more menacing feelings. 

Grimm was no longer waiting for (Y/N) to understand that they couldn't leave him. He had no intention of waiting anymore. He leaned towards them slowly, biting their clothing and lifting them.

It was always (Y/N) who carried Grimm around relentlessly now it was Grimm's turn. Once he was sure that they wouldn't fall, he took off, running away from the Ramshackle, leaving NRC behind.

[lonslibrary]

3 moments between the crow couples during their time at hogwarts

1. an unknown part of wylan and jesper’s somewhat disastrous amortentia story comes moments after jesper pulled wylan in for a kiss by his tie, causing the rest of their classmates to erupt in cheers and applause so loud that professor snape’s “boys! in the hall, now!” went unheard. minutes later, when they had actually been led out of the classroom to wait for their punishment, wylan finally worked up the courage to meet jesper’s eyes, his face almost as red as his hair. jesper’s grin was radiant. “so. butterbeer and my cologne, huh?”

it took all of wylan’s nerve to not sink into the ground where he stood. “i didn’t know today’s lesson was on amortentia,” he muttered, feeling himself flush again.

it took all of jesper’s will not to kiss the younger again right there where he stood with the way the redhead was looking up at him from beneath his long lashes.

“well, what about you?” wylan demanded, rolling his eyes. “let me guess. cards, pumpkin juice, and galleons?”

“no, actually.” jesper replied, spinning his wand in his hand. “i smell grass. gunpowder. and...”

he took a step closer to wylan who stood still, holding his breath. “...and?” the third year asked quietly.

“exploding elixir.”

wylan’s mind shut down.

“the entire room was filled with the same smell from that day we singed snape’s hair,” jesper snorted. “of all things, we had to mess up the potion that smelled like burnt-”

it was wylan who pulled jesper down this time, reaching up on his tippy toes to meet jesper’s soft lips, the ones that had captivated him from the moment he had walked into the potions classroom and saw his new lab partner for the first time.

“fahey, van eck!” snape burst into the hallway. “does it seem possible to keep your hands off of each other?”

“sorry, prof.” jesper winked, eyes still trained on wylan’s mouth. “guess you can say we’ve got...chemistry.”

wylan couldn’t even bring himself to care about detention.

2. nina stifled a laugh, trying to keep a straight face as she watched matthias scan the inside of zonko’s joke shop. she had just gotten matthias to admit that he enjoyed a drink as sweet as butterbeer, hours earlier at the three broomsticks. “you look like you’re inside the shrieking shack, not a joke shop.” nina snickered at the way matthias perked up.

“whatever the shrieking shack is, i think that there’d be more dignity in such a place than...this.” matthias dropped a dungbomb he had picked up like it had personally offended his grandmother.  

“why?” nina giggled. she shook the box in her hand. “not a fan of ton-tongue toffees?”

matthias made a face that looked like he was more than just not a fan. “if it’s anything like those jelly beans you fed me on the train, then no.”

that only made nina laugh harder. “i swear you picked the worst ones! you should’ve seen your face when you tried the rotten egg flavor.”

matthias cracked a smile, relaxing a little amongst the colorful store and his girlfriend’s laughter. he picked up another product, a pink bottle corked at the top. “what does this one do?”

nina lowered her voice, gesturing for matthias to come closer, as if letting him in on a secret. “that one’s a love potion. one drop of it in someone’s drink and they’re yours,” she whispered. “they’ll think about you all day.”

matthias jerked away, putting the bottle back on the shelf. “you can’t be serious. love can’t be made like that!” he sputtered.

“i don’t know, durmstrang,” nina teased. “what if i bought one and slipped some in your pumpkin juice tomorrow at breakfast?”

matthias only crossed his arms, continuing to grimace. “well, that wouldn’t work at all.”

“why not? zonko’s is pretty reliable when it comes to their products.” she said pointedly, looking at the extendable ears on sale.

“because i’m already in love with you.” matthias stated simply.

nina froze, turning to her boyfriend. during her time dating matthias, the hufflepuff had proven to be narrow minded and straightforward as a broom doing any and every thing. it was moments like these she was reminded that this included during his expressions of affection, and nina couldn’t love him more for it.

“i’m in love with you, too.” she declared, slipping her hand into her boyfriend’s. she had always liked...brooms. “now, come on. i want to see if we can get kaz to fall for a trick wand.”

3. all inej had wanted was a quiet place to study that wasn’t the library. she liked to practice with her wand for transfiguration, and magic wasn’t allowed in the library. she had been wandering the school for an empty classroom or quiet corner when the room of requirement had appeared at the end of a hallway, exactly moments before she was about to give up and return to the gryffindor common room. she was only half surprised when she opened the door and saw kaz, but like always, kaz hadn’t seemed surprised at all when she entered. he sat on top of a desk with his cane leaned against it, wand out, in the middle of a silent spell. inej let her eyes trail over his robe perched on a chair, his gloves off and set aside in a rare moment, and his uniform sleeves pulled up to his elbows.

“first time here?” kaz asked, not looking up from the book in his lap. his rough voice echoed slightly in the large room as inej scanned her surroundings. the room was empty besides a couple of desks and chairs in one corner, a cluttered pile of objects in another, and a big wardrobe that looked ages old. a fireplace on the wall kept the room warm, and a small chandelier hung above inej’s head.

“guess i didn’t require much until now.” inej shrugged, pulling a desk and chair of her own towards the center of the room. “you?”

kaz closed his book, finally looking up at inej. “i come and go when i want.”

inej wanted to know more about what had revealed the room to kaz in the first place, but she redirected the question away from kaz himself, knowing it was unlikely he would answer. “get anything out of it?” with kaz, it was all about gain.

kaz drummed his fingers on his desk. inej tried not to stare. “some crying first years with who miss their mums. i think i’ve witnessed a bit of every couple in the school’s snogging.” he pulled out a handful of extendable ears from his robe pocket. “snape’s planning something. don’t know the details yet, but something big.”

inej nodded. part of her expected kaz to leave, speak with his silence as he tended to do, but he continued to sit and look at inej, book in lap. inej knew him well enough to recognize that while it wasn’t exactly an invitation, kaz wasn’t saying no to a conversation. she could’ve started with a less risky question about snape’s plans, or asked for the names of the couples in their year, just to know, but inej was curious about other things.

“and how did you find this place, kaz?”

“the de kappel painting.” he said casually. “i needed a place to hide it.”

inej froze, taken aback by kaz’s answer. or more accurately, his willingness to answer. “so it’s true?” she questioned, hoping her voice didn’t give away her surprise. “the gringotts vault rumor.” she had half believed them to begin with, knowing kaz’s abilities but never his motives. still, kaz had never confirmed it with anyone as far as she had known.

“true enough.” kaz reopened his book, attention back on the page. inej inwardly sighed. the satisfaction of knowing kaz trusted her enough to confirm the gringotts rumor didn’t last long. figures kaz wouldn’t want to talk much about himself.

“but that’s a story for next time.” kaz flipped a page, the slightest start of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

next time, inej turned over in her head. she tried not to smile as she opened her own book. she could work with next time.

author’s note (pls read!) this is my first time on tumblr so idk how to use it too well but i’m overwhelmed by all the nice responses so thank you all so, so much. i see everything!! idk if there’s like poll mechanisms and stuff on tumblr (argh help) but i wanted to gauge what everyone would like next—im deciding between six of crows x pjo or shadow and bone x harry potter, so comment below what you’d like to see first (: i’d also love to hear abt any personal requests so my dms (is that what they’re called here?) are open for suggestions. no promises, but lmk if there’s something you want to read. feel free to get as niche as you want, respectfully! ok ik this is super long god bless your soul if u actually read the entire thing but finally, i just wanted to introduce myself—i’m lynn, this is my library and i dabble in most fandoms! my goal is to get at least one piece of writing out every month, so if you’d like to read what i write, follow along! OK im finally done, i swear. thank you again for the tremendous support. unbelievable. happy reading!

[itsmadamehydra]

My Savior || Wayne McCullough

A/N: Just some teenage girl trying to write the story inside her head, hope u like it.

Pairing: Wayne McCullough x oc

Warnings: rape, intention of rape, harassment, blood mention, bullying, language (a little strong)

.................

.................

I've always like to watch him by far, he just seems different from the rest (and oh boy, he is).

The first time I saw him I was in 7th grade. I was just one more girl of the many others that her tities just had started to show and my period started to visit me. I remember that day clearly, I was sitting at the hallway with my bestfriend at the time, eating infront of our lockers when I saw him.

"Am telling ya girl, the answer of number 5 was c." I said trying to reason with her about the science test answers "I told you that if u needed help to study, I could help ya." I smile at her and move my arm upward to touch her shoulder

"Yeah, yeah, I know...are you sure it was not D?" she said frowning her eyebrows once more. We stayed in silence for a sec before bursting into laughter and tears

Little by little our laughs started to fade, allowing ears to hear the background and aswell some loud voices, it sounded like an argument but by the hears of it a fight was going to start soon. "What you think is happening over there?" Cassie murmured, I stared at the end of the hallway where apparently was were the voices were coming from.

"I don't know..." my lips formed a thin line while I was thinking about what could have been happening in there, "You wanna, you know, go and see?" I looked back at my friend

"Freak yeah" she laughed grabbing my hand and running down the hallway to see the soon to be fight.

Once we got there, there was a mass of students surrounding what appeared to be the ones who where arguing. "Ugh, I can't see, I hate been so small." I said, "Hey, that smallness is beautiful and you know you can use that in your own benefit" Cassia said and winked at me.

"I mean, yeah but I can't-" my word stopped at the moment I heard a want sounded and I believe to be a punch in the face. "You saw that!?" Cassie said, "That was freaking awesome, please tell me you saw it!" "Um, nah Cassie, I cant see a crap" i said while trying to find a whole where to see through.

It was only a matter of seconds until more punches were heard. I started pushing people more frantically, I wanted to see what was happening. When I get pass a few amount of studens I almost slipped, looked sown to see what was it and it was stains of blood, only a few but still.

"Oh gosh, disgusting." When I look up only a few students are still in the cafeteria and a guy wearing a grey hoddie was just there, staring at the bloodie face of another guy. I stared back at the hoddie guy and noticed a little hammer in his hand, and the words just came out of my mouth without even noticing, "Why the hammer? Want to be a constructed or something?" He just stared at me and pass by me without saying a word and keeping a neutral face.

"Who the hell was that crazy ass weirdo?" I hear Cassie's voice behind me. "I don't know" I responded, "But I will know...one day."

"Ok,ok, am not going to get in between your little search thingi but am sure he is not good news." Cassie said, "You saw what he did, and he has a FREAKING hammer, y/n! Covered in blood y/n!" She grabbed my shoulders from behind, "I think we all understood the message, stay the fuck away from him, honey."

And I just smiled.

Months later I learned his name. Wayne, Wayne McCullough. Fits the ring if you ask me. Everyone was speaking about how violent, crazy and wierdo he was, about how he was going to show up at your house to beat the hell put of you.

I just observed him by far, well, I like to think that I noticed him. I noticed how he usually beats up those who are some assholes jerks that have only one brain cell as much. Noticed that he is not much of a talker and a shy boy. Noticed how he makes his lips thin when he gets lost in thoughts. How he closes his fist when he is about to do something. His strangely high pain tolerance. His pale skin and dark hair appeared to me to be very llamative and aswell his strength. He was and is skinny but somehow has a great strength, maybe do to the unincredible amounts of fights he gets in. Experience makes the master is what the say...right?

Years went by, we entered to highschool and the nervousness along with the fast beating, sweating and butterflies were still there every time i either tought about him or saw him walking around.

Cassie stayed with me for a while until she decided to join the group of nasty ass bitches with no brain cells who believed no one was better than them. While I...well, I stayed small for a big part I guess, always with good grades, teachers love me and try to be nice with every one I guess.

Everything was going great until Cassie along with some guys recorded me somehow while being drunk and them trying to overpass the boundaries, and let me tell ya.. that was just the start.

The had videos of me at the school bathroom, pictures of my underwear under my skirts and dresses, them trying to touch me. I had to learn to defend myself, stopped using skirts, dresses, shorts even do I loved wearing the. Replace my shoes with tennis and always had hair ties.

"Y/n, wake up! You're going to be late for school, don't think ama wait for you!" I mom yelled.

"Yes, mom! Dont worry, am up!" I run down the stairs with my backpack, went to the kitchen, grabbed an apple and went straight to the car.

"Oh for God sake, y/n" she said went she looked at me and noticed my new hair style.

"What? You don't like it? I just cut it a little." I satered at her innocently

"Your father is not gonna like it and you know it." She said and the stress lines appeared in her forehead, "You know this is his weekend and-"

She couldn't finish her sentence because I started taking, "Am not going to that dickheads house, mother." I said strainly, "Don't want to see his and face of that bitch he cheated you with..." i lowly said but loud enough to hear.

"I know, honey but you have to and besides you get to see your brother!" She patted my thigh, "Haven't seen him in a while right?" She said with a sad tone

"You should be the one seeing him...not me." I stared outside the window, there were just some trees and houses and garbage.

Mom and dad divorced a while back, he cheated on her. The house was a mess that day, screams and broken glass everywhere. Sammy was lucky, he was at grandma's but I was home...listening to every single word. That was also the first time a sneaked out and the first time I sort-of spoke to Wayne.

"What are you doing here?" I heard someone said behind me, I looked and it was fucking Wayne

"Just trying to have some quietness i guess..." I stared at my fingers and started playing with them because of my nervousness, "...What are you doing here?" I asked softly

And he stayed silent...the whole time after that. Either way, his company was nice and the side profile, ufff, amazing.

"Ok, we are here." I stared at the building for a sec before giving my mother a kiss in her cheek and entered to the building.

"Hey y/n! Nice ass!" That was the jerk of all jerks, Jonathan.

I turned around and stared at him, "Oh yeah?" He nodded, "Want to see me shop of your dick?" Changed my tone while saying that into a lower and more serious tone. He just stared at me with sealed lips and left.

I continued walking to my locker and I come to see tgat my freaking lock is broken, I search in all the spaces but nothing is missing.

"Come on! They had just changed me of locker!" I silently yelled. Started grabbing my books for the next few classes when I felt a hand in my shoulder, by instinct I grabbed the wrist, pushed the person against the locker and added pressure in the throat with my other arm.

"Hey y/n" Orlando smiled, "New move?" I chuckled and removed my arm, now, standing face to face I respond

"You know you shouldn't do that Orlando bunny." I laugh st the nickname I gave him a few time ago. Orlando was one of the few FEW people who talked to me, well, he talked to everyone but still.

"I know... I just forgot I guess man." He looked down, "Y/n...have your tities grown bigger?" His face looked confused.

I slapped his head and punched his shoulder, "Could you please stop looking and thinking 'bout tities when am around you?"

"I mean, yeah sure...and sorry about your lock." He points the locker, "Wayne thought it was still his but since-" I cut him off before he could continue

"Wayne?" I asked confused

"Yeah, Is tha-" i cut him off again

"Why did he tho?" I murmured staring at my lock in hand.

"It used to be his locker but oh well...he missed school for 3 weeks and yeah." He grabs his backpacks laces after explaining.

"Oh...ok, is he still here tho?" I looked at Orlando

"I guess..." he was about to say pther thing when the bell ring and we started to go toour classes, "See you later gorgeous!" He yells from the corner of the hallway.

I stayed there...just staring at my lock for a while, then order my things fast and left to class. What I didn't know was that someone was watching at me.

Three days later, i was walking back home and i heard s car going at full speed and nasty comments were started to be listend. I kept walking trying tk pretend they didn't exist when the car is suddenly over the sideway and infront of me.

"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME ASSHOLES!!" I yelled.

"But...you are bot dead right, bitch?" Jonathan said getting out of the car. There were five, 2 guys and 3 girls. "Don't prefer to suck my dick and be my slut, promise I'll pay a good amount." He said infront of me,

"She is already a slut baby." Veronica said

"I bet she has sleeped with half school, wouldn't surprise me if you haven been org*e or something." You know, comments are comments, you are the one who decide what hurt you and whats does not, but being Cassie the one who said that...broke my freaking heart.

I couldn't stand it anymore, wanted to leave the place so i came up with a plan very fast. I walked closer to Jonathan trying to be the most seductive I could, touched his chest, abs and got closer to his ear and said, "You are going to regret everything" Punched him with all my strenght in this genitiles, stomp on his feet, punched his nose and ran the faster I could out of there.

"You bitch!" I heard from far but i continued running, I couldn't stop, i was scared, didn't know what could happen if the get me. I could hear the car engines behind me, but i didn't stop.

I was close a bridge, ran underneath it, passed some houses but i could still hear the voices and car. My legs hurt, i needed to catch my breath, i could hear my heart beat, my body felt on fire. When I less expected am suddenly trapped, there were some abandoned buildings and warehouses but no way to get put of there. This was it, my end.

"Couldn't escape from me you nasty little bitch!?" I heard his voice, i was never one to pray but believe when i say i begged to God to save me. "You ain't going anywhere...bitch" he was behind me, I could sense it.

My hair was pulled, he pulls me by my hair to his car and i notice that it's just him and another guy. Am not getting out of here.

"We are going to have so much fun!" He licks my cheek and i try to kick him wherever.

"HELP!" I yelled, "SOMEBODY PLEASE, HELP!" my voice sounded horrific, like if i hadn't drank a single drop of water in ages, "please" y murmure my last pledge before he finally puts me over the capo of his car.

"No one's gonna help you, you slut." He says, the other guy was just watching and standing still, doing nothing.

I gave up, didn't even notice I was crying until I tasted the salt in my lips. I felt him over me, unbucking my pants and then...i didnt felt his weight anymore, instead, i heard a cry of pain, and then another cry, and another and another.

I lifted my head and there he was, grey hoddie and little hammer in hand...my savior. I smiled.

My smile just grew bigger and bigger every second I saw that boy swing that motherfucker hammer, every second that Jonathan's blood was spilled. I lool around in search pf the pther guy scared that he might try to grab but I get calm when i see him unconscious on the floor.

A few minuts later th cries stop and i look up, Jonathan was missing 3 teeths and face covered with blood, i think he could even have a brocken rib or something.

Am sitting on top of the car's capo when a feel a slight, fragile touch.

"You ok?" Wayne askes pulling a string of my hair behind my ear.

"...now I am." I smile to him and he returns a little small tiny one with a grin. I was about to say something else when he suddenly speaks

"Want to be my girlfriend or whatever?" He says looking exhausted, I chuckle

"Try a little harder and I might be." I say soflty with a small thin smile and he avoids my eyes but I still get to notice a small blush.

...................

Hey! So, yeah. This is my first ever published thing. Hope you enjoyed it and if you want a part two or to keep writing, am open to any suggestion! Am not very good with the warnings section so if you could help me with it, i would totally apreciate that!

Thank you for reading,

[pigeonp0st]

could u do nat taking care of r when r gets sick (pretty please i beg of u)? preferably lots of cuddles 🥺🥺

idk i just love soft!nat 🥺

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #5

Words: 1,689

Warnings: none?

Notes:

I didn’t really like how this one turned out but i’ve finally decided that staring at it in my drafts with disappointed isn’t gonna make it any better...so here it is. Thank you for requesting, and sorry for spelling mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

———

It started with a cold. Just a couple of sneezes, a runny nose, and a sore throat...the usual.

It started out with you trying your best to hide it. Hide the sickness. That plan went under the moment Natasha heard you sneeze during training... she had you confessing to your sins much too quickly.

Suffice to say she immediately kicked you out of the training area with demands to take some medicine.

So she was the first to realize that you were sick, and she was the first to realize you were getting worse instead of better. She’d pester you endlessly when you wouldn’t want to talk about it, and watch over you like a hawk.

It was sweet, but you also didn’t think it was necessary. You were sure you’d be fine in three or so days.

How wrong you were.

When you wake up with a 103° fever for the third day in a row it has you layed in bed for the whole day groaning about the inequalities of the world, and begging Natasha not to get a doctor for the 100th time.

You were fine. Totally fine.

Natasha watches you with a mix of amusement and concern from the corner of the room and suggests, gently, that maybe you’re not.

You peak over your covers to glare at her in something like betrayal. “I’d be fine if you’d stop pacing and come cuddle with me.”

She seems to think about her options for a long moment and right when you think she’s going to reject you she relents with a heavy sigh and gets into the bed.

She’s so blissfully cold it has you snuggling into her side immediately, both to warm her up and use her as your own personal ice pack.

“You’re burning up,” Natasha whispers, but she pulls you closer to her—like somehow if she’s close enough she can absorb some of your pain and make you feel just that little bit better. “If your fever rises even a little bit we’re going to the doctors, okay?”

She’s concerned and worried, and even though a stranger fussing over you is the last thing you want you know you have to give her this.

As soon as you nod your head in agreement some of the tension seeps out of her body, much to your relief. As ridiculous as it is, you’re worried about her worried about you—if that makes sense.

“Around 100,000 people died from the flu in 2019,” Natasha mumbles against your forehead. She adds quietly after a moment, “just in case you were wondering.”

You were not wondering. What the fuck.

“Nat...that statistic is mostly old people.”

“Yeah,” Nat agrees, “you’ll be fine.”

And despite your body's protest, and how much of a pain it is to pull away, you do, just so you can give Natasha an incredulous look so she knows just what you think about what she’s doing right now.

Her face is unexpectedly vulnerable when you see it. She isn’t trying to bother you...she’s just…she’s worrying herself crazy.

“Nat,” you sigh, ready to embark on the most comforting and articulate speech you can think of, but a sudden fit of coughs has you turning away hurriedly to muffle your face in a pillow.

When your lungs finally decide to stay in your body for now, and Natasha stops rubbing your back, you’re too tired to try and comfort her, so instead you mumble, on the verge of sleep, “if I die; just know I love you.”

Which, in hindsight, probably doesn’t help much.

But she doesn’t sound worried when she replies, just exasperated and fond. “I love you, too.”

———-

When you wake up again it’s to a bunch of kisses and beautiful red hair.

“Stop attacking me,” you grumble, trying to push her away, but you're not able to hide your smile. God, you love your badass (soft) girlfriend.

“Look who's not dead!”

Remembering your last words to her before you went to sleep has you finally opening your eyes and giving Nat a sheepish smile. Oops. “Look who really wants to get sick…”

“My immune system is stronger than yours,” Natasha scoffs, shoving both your medicine at you and a bottle of water.

“Asshole,” you mumble, moving to open the medicine bottle only to get stopped by a hand on your wrist. “What?”

“You need to eat first.”

Thus, starts the trip towards death.

————

“Oh my god, how much farther is it…”

Your fever is finally down and back to safer levels so naturally Natasha has insisted that you’re able to go to the kitchens yourself and sit outside to eat.

You need fresh air, she said.

The room is getting stuffy, she said.

It’ll be good for you, she said.

What a fucking devil.

“You’re literally the most dramatic person to ever grace this earth,” Natasha tells you for only the millionth time since the journey began. “Maybe if you stopped sliding against the wall and crawling on the floor like you got shot three times we’d get there faster.”

“Maybe if you’d help me—”

“I tried! But apparently i’m ruining your image.” She rolls her eyes when she says that, then turns away to grin like she thinks you won’t notice.

You’re a whipped idiot who's decided to make a complete full of yourself and waste what little energy you have just to get your girlfriend to laugh, and to prove to her that you’re doing better.

You’re definitely going to regret this later, but now, in the moment; This is totally worth it. No doubt.

————

Wanda is in the kitchen.

As soon as you see her you straighten up and stop leaning on the wall (and limping). Natasha laughs next to you when she notices.

“You’re doing better, Y/N?” Wanda asks, glancing over you before returning back to the soup she’s making. For you. She’s making soup for you.

You adore her. She’s your favorite person, she’s—

“Not your girlfriend,” Wanda interjects, amused, “and doing this as a concerned teammate, and because your girlfriend asked.”

“Yes, well I love you anyways. Your cooking has gotten very good,” you say, shooting her a grin while you practically bounce to the dining chair, in stark contrast to the way you were dragging yourself down the halls.

Natasha does a good job at trying to not look confused, but she clearly is. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Wanda informs her before you get the chance to.

“Favorite person for making you soup?” Natasha asks once Wanda’s done relaying your thoughts. She narrows her eyes at you then. “Not the person who has been taking care of you since you became an avenger, not the person who—”

“It’s very good soup, Nat.”

“Very,” Steve agrees from the living room.

Natasha sighs, takes a sniff of the soup, and resigns herself to the facts she’s faced with. “Yeah...it is.”

——-

“Close your mouth,” Natasha orders, tapping your chin. You listen, waiting patiently for the beep of the thermometer to signal it’s done.

When it does, Natasha pulls it back to study it. There’s a small lapse of anxious silence before Natasha reveals the results. Then...“Ninety-Nine. You’re officially a healthy woman.”

And with that, you’re finally free of the bed rest and able to walk the halls as a newly restored human being.

“I’m free,” you shout, tackling Natasha onto the bed and kissing her all over her face, completely overjoyed. “Natasha, I survived!”

You survived. It only took an exhausting week. When your fever went down a couple of days ago it spiked to 105° a bit after and you were sure you were going to suffocate in Natasha’s worry because of it. You had to go to the medical room...it was awful.

But now Nat laughs, and laughs, and then pulls you into a tight hug to stop all of the kissing. She seems to be unburdened and lighter now that she finally has the numbers she’s wanted.

“Loving you as much as I do is really just living in this constant state of worry and fear,” Natasha says when you’ve both settled down. “I do not like things being out of my control,” she admits, kissing the crown of your head. “Especially when it involves my heart.”

“Your heart,” you repeat, curious. “Is that what I am?”

“Ignoring the worry and fear part?” Natasha teases, quirking an eyebrow.

“We both know those feelings are accompanied with a multitude of good and beautiful emotions. I feel them too.”

Natasha smiles then, soft and gentle, and full of admiration. “Yes.”

You tilt your head. “Yes...what?”

“Yes, you are my heart. Or at least you feel like you are.”

At that, with a determination and seriousness that visibly shocks Natasha you say, “i’ll protect it. I’ll protect myself, and because you're mine also, I'll help protect you. Always.”

“Always,” Natasha agrees, her fingertips trailing across your cheek. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, embarrassed suddenly, “of course.”

————

“Are...are you serious?”

Natasha scowls into her tea and says nothing in response. This is fucking hilarious.

Your lovely girlfriend doesn’t seem to think so because the second she sees your face struggling not to laugh she begins glaring at you. “Don’t,” Nat warns. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

“I seem to recall you saying, and I quote, ‘my immune system is stronger than yours.’” You grin. “Oh how ironic this is.”

“I’m not sick—”

“Aw, but baby, the amount of tissues on the floor seem to be saying otherwise,” you gesture towards the growing pile, feeling absolutely no sympathy until Natasha glances at the pile with a sigh of defeat. She looks so small and sad covered in her pile of blankets...it simply won’t do. “Don’t fret, my love. I will take care of you, just as you took care of me,” you assure her, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“First things first,” you tilt her chin up, “i’ll get Wanda to make you some soup so you can take some medicine.”

“I hate the world,” Natasha grumbles, mumbling some curses in russian.

“I love you, too.”

[thcweasley]

Yours

PAIRING : George Weasley X Y/N

SUMMARY : George getting jealous of his twin brother for being closer to you .

WARNINGS : none? Make out? implying things? hehe

WORDS : 1.7k

A/N: lol this hits too close to home, growing up i was shadowed by heather sister :(  I was going to turn this into smut but im not sure.. cos i never wrote a smut before lol.

“Focus on your work Weasley” Snape smacked George Weasley’s head with the book he was holding, causing the whole class to look at his direction.

George was already an easily distracted person to begin with. but today especially, he got his mind somewhere else.

He was looking at you and his twin brother Fred, giggling while trying to figure out snape’s task. All of his life he never thought that he would feel this much jealously towards the older twin. Sure, sometimes it bothers him a bit that people pay more attention to him, or the fact that people always refers them as “Fred & George”, not “George & Fred”. But he knew it’s a silly thing to be bothered about so he always managed to brush it off.

But not today, Fred had been assigned with you. The girl George met on his last solo trip to honeydukes. It shocked him how he never saw you around before, despite being in the same house and grade. But hes glad that he met you. George didn’t like to be cheesy, but he was so sure that you were made for him. Whenever youre around, he just felt so happy. You’re funny, kind, and on top of all you’re prettiest thing he ever seen. Sadly, for him, other people seems to think that way about you.

He introduced you 2 weeks ago to his brother and friends. You seem to get along great with everyone. He liked that, his brother and friends is everything for him. But he cant help it but feeling a little bit jealous. He didn’t wanna admit it but this jealously is most probably because he was insecure about his feeling for you. Before everything he was sure that you fancy him the same way he fancies you. But now, hes not sure. And he hated it, youre supposed to be his girl.

The class that felt so long was finally over. George quickly stood up, walking towards the common room. he just want to burry his face onto his bed now. He felt an arm linking his. “Hey you” it was you. He let out a big sigh, not knowing how to feel right now.

“Hey, did you have a good time today?” He hated how catty he sounded. Knowing you, he knew you wouldn’t able to tell.

“Yeah it was fun. Your brother is hilarious you know that?” He rolled his eyes, feeling his face getting hot.

“Well yeah hes a clown” George answered shortly. Wanting you both could just drop this conversation. He didn’t like this, being jealous of his twin brother.

“ahah yeah true, youre also funny too you know” You leaned your head onto Georges arm. At this point it was hard for him to not just pulls you into a big hug. “Whats your plan for the rest of the day?” You asked looking up on him.

“Im not sure, probably just sleep” George answered looking down to you. You looked so cute leaning on to him.

“Wanna have a study date? Snape’s test tomorrow right?” George’s ears perked up at the word date.

A smile creeps on his face. “Yeah sure”

“Brilliant! I’ll see you in 2 hours then!” You gave his arm a squeeze before you go. Leaving George all smiley by himself.

2 hours later, George found himself getting ready for his study date. He finally going to make a move on you. Its obvious that you fancy him now right? At least you were the one who refers their study session as a study date.

He tried to look around for Fred but he was nowhere to be found. He feels weird do anything without asking for the older brother’s advice. But it was time to go to meet you at the Library and he didn’t want to make you wait, so he just decided to cross his fingers and hope for the best.

“Hey” George greeted you, big smile on his face. You look up at him from the book you were reading, smiling back at him. “You got a lot of stuff here” He sat down beside you, looking at paper and pens in front of him.

“Oh its not mine” You answered. “So, do you have anything you’re particularly struggling with?”

Whilst you tried your best to explain the things that he was struggling with. George was doing his best to stay focus on what youre saying instead of you. He cant help but admire your face, your cheeks, your lips. He wonders how would it feel like you press his lips against yours.

“Are you listening to me George?” You asked, knowing the answer pretty well.

“Uh yeah, im sorry I got distracted” he blinked.

You brought your hand on to his head, messing with his red hair. “you’ve been a bit distracted these days. didn’t you got smacked on your head earlier today by Snape?” you chuckled a bit running your fingers on the back of his head. “Did it hurt?” You tilted her head closer to him, rubbing the back of his head.

He couldn’t seem to think straight at this point. The fact that youre so close to him right now, he could smell your scent. He took a deep breath trying to be brave and make a move. He put his hand on top of yours, pulling it away from his head. “Y/N..” He started, linking his fingers with yours. “I think I like you”

“Yeah?” You chuckled feeling. your cheeks starting to get warm. “Whats going on George? Why are you suddenly so serious?”

“Well, Im not sure how you feel about me. But I got nothing to lose so here I am. I like you” Surprised by his words, you didn’t say anything. So he thought he could just make a move then. He leaned in closer to you getting you lips closer to each other. Not knowing what to do you just close your eyes. He smiled, taking this as a greenlight to proceed his act. Until all of the sudden-

“Your tea is here!!” Fred walked in, causing them to pull away from each other. “Hey that’s my seat George, do you not see the stuffs on the table?” He said as he sat down filling the gap between You and George.

“Fred what are you doing here?” George asked, clearly  frustrated with the situation.

“That’s not how you greet people, my dear brother” He said handing you the tea he was talking about. “Besides, youre not the only one who got invited to this study group. Right Y/N?” You just nod at him feeling flustered, thinking about what could’ve happened if Fred didn’t just walk in.

The next day, George has been avoiding you since last night. He thought you guys shared the same feeling. But yesterday proved him wrong. He was just another friend to you

Snape’s exam was a group work, being Fred’s partner obviously made you work with him for the exam. You looked so happy, George wishes it was him working with you instead of his twin brother. He hated this so much, it’s ridiculous how jealous he felt towards his twin brother right now.

The exam’s finally over, George saw you coming up to him from the corner of his eyes. “Hey” you greeted him. “Wanna go to Three Broomstick later? I haven’t really seen you all week”

“Who’s coming?” He asked, hoping this time its just the two of you. And everything that he thought about last night wasn’t true.

“Uh everyone. Fred, Lee, Angelina and others im not sure” George snickered. How stupid of him to think that you wanna be alone with him. How stupid of him to think he got a chance with you.

“I think im gonna pass on that” he took a deep breath. “Im tired. Ill see you around” He left you dumb folded, walking away towards his room.

The night comes around. The common room feels empty, his friends had left him for Three Broomstick. George just chilling alone on his bed when he heard someone opened the door.

“George?” You walked towards him, sitting at the end of his bed “Hey, im just.. I just wanna make sure everything is okay”

“Why you here” George answered bitterly. “Arent you suppose to be out with your friends, with my brother?”

“Well yeah but I wanna check up on you. And talk about last night..”

“What do you wanna talk about Y/N?” He took a deep breath. “I already get it, you see me as a friend. If anything, you like Fred more than me. I get it don’t worry. Everyone always picks him over me, im used to it”

“George…” you scotched in closer too him, trying to stop him from rambling all these nonsenses.

“Im not even sure why I thought you like me, he is the better twin. Im just me. I just thought I have a chance with you. Throughout my life, ive always get hands down from my siblings, share with my siblings.” He realised how ridiculous he sounded but it didn’t stop him. “I love how you get along with my friends. But, i just thought, I thought youre my person. Finally someone I can proudly say mine. I thought you feel the same way as I do…” Georges voice was getting quitter when he felt your hand grabbing his. “I like you a lot and I get that you don’t feel the same way. So if youre coming here to explain that i-“

His words were cut off by your lips crashing to his. “You never let me speak Georgie”  You murmured against his lips “I don’t know how you got it all wrong” you kissed his cheek lightly. “I didn’t know you felt that way. George. I like you, im your person. Ive always been“

With a big smile he pulled in for another kiss. He held on to your waist pulling you closer to him, positioning you onto his lap. You threw your and around his neck, deepening the kiss whilst his hands lazily griped your waist.

You can feel something poking between the inner part of your legs. With a slight smile you press your legs more on to him, grinding it against him. Earning a low groan from him.

He held your hips down on him, so both of you can feel more of the friction. His lips travelled to your jaw and to the back of your neck. You could feel his hot breath, sending shivers down your spine as he moved his lips closer to your ears. “Prove it” OKAY SO Let me know if you want a part 2 smut off of this HAHAH.

hehe part 2

this was quite hard to write cos i feel bad for him ahaha. this is loosely based on a true story. but i never got my Y/N :’)

MY OTHER WORKS follow me / send request / talk to me! im lonely (if u send me anonymously maybe click here) my collaborative ford anglia playlist Christmas with the Weasley playlist

[binniesthighs]

hi!! i rly liked your first writing it was so cute and you described jisung so well too! can i request a friends to lovers with han? kinda slow burn like they're really good friends but jisung gets jealous of her close friend and reader secretly likes him too but she doesnt wanna ruin the things between them so... one day they get into a fight and they end up making out😳 bc shes like "wtf we're friends" smut is ok but just a make out would be fine too the details r up to u💗

why yes you can! Thank you for requesting hehe you are my first ask ever  ♡ I hope that you like it, here’s some best friend ‘sungie for ya :)   

all yours | reader x jisung |

Paring: self-insert, female reader x han jisung

Genre: fluff ‘n a lil bit of smut & angst  

Tags: student!reader, bestfriend!jisung, lab partner!felix (haha), friends to lovers, mutual pining, best friend au, college au, jealousy, slow-ish burn, mentions of exams, some yelling, reader is secretly whipped for jisung (and jisung for the reader), explicit language, marking, that good good makin’ out

Word count: 2.4k

“Hey!”

The little ball of paper that you had crinkled up bounced off Jisung’s arm with a soft pat.

“What happened to studying together? You said that you were gonna quiz me.”

Jisung’s eyes popped up from his phone screen looking a little bewildered. “Sorry, I just...got a little distracted.

“Distracted? Looking at what?”

“Oh, nothing.” He placed his phone down, clicking it off.

“Is “nothing” code for some girl’s Instagram?” You dished him out a teasing smirk. “I think you forget that I know you better than you know yourself sometimes.”

Jisung shuffled the papers in front of him pretending like he had something to do. “Psh. I was not.”

“--Does she go to school here?”

“I told you, I said no.” He furrowed his brow trying to look as serious as possible, but that was nearly impossible for someone as naturally adorable as him. “Why are you drilling me? Aren’t you supposed to be doing some work right now?”

“~So are you~” You teasingly sang back to him, giving him a kick under the table just for good measure.

Jisung threw your balled up paper ball back to you. “Let’s just get back to what we were doing so we can leave. I don’t wanna end up like him.”

He nodded over to the end of your table where a student had fallen asleep mid-chapter. His nose twitched and he snorted a little bit. You knew exactly what Jisung meant, you didn’t want to be at the library at 11pm on a Tuesday either; it was your better judgement that told you.

“Can we get food after this?” Jisung asked after approximately five minutes of “working.”

“Sounds good to me.” You quipped, barely allowing your eyes to leave your computer screen. You found that you always had to try you best to let him not distract you. He was really good at that.

You slid a stack of index cards in front of him. “Ask me these? I’m having a hard time getting the Latin names down...if you’re not busy?”

“Nope!” He piped, and shoved his notebook away.

“Okay!” He said with determination and a little bounce. He fixed his oversized hoodie before starting, looking adorably lost in the fabric.

He asked you the first question, but it barely met your ears. There you were, getting distracted by him again.

screw you Han Jisung, you thought to yourself.

☆。*。☆。

“I just don’t understand how you make sense of all that crap, I could never be a science major like you are.”

“--And I could never understand production like you do.”

“And this is why we work.” Jisung grinned with smiling eyes while he opened the library door for you. “I’m starving, I can’t stop thinking about--”

“--Y/n??” A voice called from behind the two of you.

The two of you whipped your heads back to see a loveable looking blonde and freckled boy bounding to catch up with you. It was Felix, your lab partner from zoology. The two of you were nothing more than classroom friends, but his friendly kindness was always something that brightened up your terrible 9 am lab.

“Felix!” You beamed, holding the door so it wouldn’t close on him. “Are you here studying for the exam as well?”

“Oh yeah, I just...my brain couldn’t take it any more,” He sarcastically mimed his head pains, “I just need to get some sleep now.”

“I just don’t get how they expect us to know all of those phyla like its nothing.”

“I know right?’ He chuckled.

Next to you, Jisung silently poked at the elevator button to go down.

“Is it alright if I head down with you guys?”

“Of course!” You motioned him in.

Once the doors had closed, the three of you found a different corner of the small box to plant yourselves in.

“shit-sorry, Felix, I didn’t introduce you, this is Jisung.”

“Hi!” Felix shone, and Jisung gave him a curt nod back.

Felix waved to two of you goodbye, leaving you in the nighttime snow. You noticed that as Felix walked away he had a little bounce to his step; and you couldn’t help but crack a little smile.

“Our usual?” Jisung asked you with a little edge to his voice.

You linked your arm around his, letting out a little shrill sound when the fabric of your two coat sleeves met. “Sounds good to me!” You nuzzled up into him while both of your bodies’ heat intermingled.

The two of you walked on under the streetlights which illuminated the falling flakes in streams of light. You never loosened your grip, as had become your habit lately when the two of you walked around. Jisung never seemed to mind; the two of you had been mistaken for a couple more than enough times thanks to it. When it did happen, it didn’t phase you at all. Being close to Jisung was like second nature to you.

The whole walk over Jisung never uttered a word, which was uncharacteristic of his usual boisterous self.

“Is everything okay?”

He sniffled, “Yeah, I think I just got kinda tired out of nowhere.”

“Ah.” You mouthed, and squeezed his arm a little harder.

After a moment’s silence, he somberly announced, “If you’re in the same class as him, maybe you should study with him.”

“Huh.” You tsked. “Yeah, I mean I never thought about that before...I guess that could do me some good.”

You looked slightly up to him: a product of him being slightly taller than you. His brown eyes remained stoic, and you couldn’t figure out why. You hated it when he wouldn’t tell you what was wrong, but he was also stubborn at letting up.

“But thank you for helping me tonight! You know that I reeealy appreciate it.” You turned your tone as cutesy as you could--Jisung hated it, but you knew that it could bring a smile to his face.

His gaze softened a bit. “Anytime. You’d do the same for me.”

☆。*。☆。

Jisung rested his head on your shoulder on the bus ride home with his phone weakly held in his hand. One more bump in the road and you knew that it would go flying so you carefully took it into your own lap where it would be safe. You wouldn’t dare moving an inch because you had a feeling that he had closed his eyes. Time had slipped past 1am, and you had to keep fighting yawns yourself. The bus driver had been blasting the heat, so it wasn’t hard at all for you to feel cozy.

You glanced down at his open hand in his lap. It looked exactly like he was beckoning for you to scoop it up in your own. You wondered what what happen if you did. What would he think of it? Would he think anything of it? You had held hands before, but every time you had it had been under purely platonic pretenses. If you just grabbed it now, what would the pretenses be then? The two of you cozied up on a bus: that was something that couples did.

You shut your eyes closed tightly and tried your best to banish all the thoughts clouding your head.

Jisung’s hand twitched, looking even more inviting.

screw you Han Jisung.

☆。*。☆。

[7:14pm]

jisung: you want to come over? Changbin is cooking and i don’t wanna eat whatever he’s making alone

[7:31pm]

me: sorry, I’m studying with Felix at the library, I think that we are gonna be here late. It’s all the Latin, I’m drowning in the Latin, Sung.

I’m sorry.

see you Friday once I’m out of this hell?

[7:34pm]

jisung: see you friday.

☆。*。☆。

You pounded on the door to Jisung’s apartment with your phone in hand, the white screen showing you the number that you had worked so hard for.

“Open the door!” You called giddily. “Jisung! I know that you’re in here, we need to celebrate! ~I can treat youuu~”

Just as you were about to knock again, the door swung open, revealing a wet haired Jisung in his grey sweats and tee. His brown strands of hair were scattered around his head while he rubbed at them with a towel.

“Shit! Can’t I shower?” He jested.

It took all your will power not to ogle him more. He looked devastatingly handsome, but you swallowed down how utterly flustered he had made you.

You cleared your throat, “Uh...sorry...” then remembered your phone in your hand. “I got a 96! Can you believe it! I’m even surprised too, when I was taking the test I just got so nervous...”

“All that studying paid off huh?” He cockily rose an eyebrow. “You can go ahead and thank me now, without my help...” He shrugged with a grin.

You invited yourself in and threw your bag down at the door like you usually did.

“Thank youuu” You sung. “Oh! And studying with Felix really paid off too.” You took off your shoes, thinking of how nice it had been to finally study with someone who knew your class topics. Not that Jisung wasn’t helpful, but you and Felix were on the same page. “He knew it all way more than I did, so he was super helpful. I forgot to text him--”

Jisung closed the door behind you with a slam that made you jump. He moved away from you, not meeting your eyes. The air around the two of you suddenly became thick with something that did not feel as excited as you just were.

“...do you wanna maybe watch a movie?” You moved closer. “Or we could get some deliv--”

“--Why even bother coming over here?” Jisung suddenly huffed.

“What?”

Jisung’s words flew out of his mouth sharply, “If he was so helpful? What are you doing here, huh?”

“Jisung, I don’t understand...” Your heartbeat quickened in your chest and you felt anxiety swell there as well. Jisung never spoke to you like this. He never sounded like this.

He growled out a little sound in frustration. “I-I just...can’t believe you--”

“--Me? Jisung, what did I do?” You threw your arms up, genuinely confused.

He ran his fingertips over his temples and let out a deep exhale. “Y/n, don’t pretend like you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Your temper started to become seething and you felt your ears get hot. “Tell me Jisung. Tell me what I did. And while you’re at it, what has been up with you these past few days? Being short with me, and distant, yeah-I’ve noticed...what are you doing??”

Jisung heaved breaths in and out of his chest, then ran a hand through his hair. He still couldn’t meet your eyes.

For a moment, a flash of panic surged in your head, making your heart ache with an unexpected pain. You truly didn’t know what he had meant, and if you had made a mistake, you knew it could mean loosing him. God, that was the last thing in the world you wanted. It always was.

“If I did something wrong tell me because clearly I don’t know!!” You yelled back at him, straining your throat.

He walked up to you, then grabbed your shoulders with a firm grip. Finally, you saw his eyes, brown and soft, holding a type of pain that you hadn’t seen in him before.

screw you, Han Jisung.

“Jisung, I--”

You were shoved by the shoulders in milliseconds to the door behind you, the impact nearly knocking the wind out of you. You gasped in your surprise, but your mouth was immediately shut by Jisung ramming his lips into yours. His hands needily took your face into his palms with his mouth blazing with hunger for you.

It took you a moment to realize what had just happened and steady yourself after being so startled. His lips were so soft and warm, your brain had a hard time recognizing that he was really doing this. His haste made no indication of stopping so you let yourself do what you had wanted to do for years: you kissed him back with everything that you had.

As soon as you did so, he let out little desperate moans between your lips in response. You let your arms wrap around his back and he fell into them just right. Naturally you took one of your hands to the back of his head and tangled up your fingers in his hair. God, it all felt so good. Jisung snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you into him with force, crashing your hips together.

The two of you clumsily made your way to the couch where he threw you down and crawled over top of you just as fast. He moved to your neck then traversed around your skin, sending shivers all through your body. Your hands eagerly found his back where you dug into him, wanting to be impossibly close. To your side, he carefully took your hand in his, weaving all of your fingers together.

Jisung pressed down into you and began to suck at your neck without holding himself back. It was such an intense feeling that couldn’t help but moan out something you didn’t know you could. You felt his mouth turn into a grin on your skin while he continued. It stung a little when he removed his lips, but he gently kissed each mark as if he was soothing it once he was done. He stopped to admire the little array of purple bruises he had made.  

“I want you all to myself.”  Jisung’s voice was hoarse, but still honey-covered in desire.

“What are we doing?” You asked him in breathless disbelief.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He whispered, and appeared to calm his breaths. “I don’t care.”

"You don’t?”

“Why should I?” He cocked his head and used his free hand to caress your face.

“--That this could change things between us?”

“You don’t want it too?” He looked a little confused.

You felt a warmth rush to your cheeks.  “--No! I do, I do...trust me.”

“Then can I kiss you some more?” Jisung grinned down at you as loving as he always had, but this time it meant something slightly different.

“...please.”

He lowered back onto you, connecting your lips once more. Jisung’s tongue languidly smoothed onto yours and you already felt intoxicated by the feeling. You tightened your fingers around his.

I’ve always been yours.

[bunny-hoodlum]

Asynchronous With You: Chapter 3

ship: naruhina

rating: teen (this chapter is a little ecchi, but I think it's still T)

tags: Modern Day AU, Foster Siblings, Family, Angst, Unrequited Love, Poor Communication

summary: An awkward journey full of self-denial and missed moments between two foster siblings. Perhaps their love will find the right timing someday.

She didn't know what she was expecting when Kurenai announced that another child would be joining them soon.

He showed up a little smaller than her, with wary blue eyes and uncombed blond hair. He didn't carry anything with him.

The idea of having a forever playmate intrigued her, but after a few weeks it became clear he had no interest in playing, only fighting.

During those times when she managed to get away, she laid down on her bedroom floor curled around a picture book, and thought deeply about magical forests and open meadows. Away from stupid boys and their stupid ways.

And then suddenly he wanted to get rid of Neji. He thought she wanted to be rid of Neji, too. He was going to tattle on Neji really bad and that would be that.

Who taught him that the only way to fix things was to destroy them?

She told him she didn't mind Neji bossing her around. Maybe it's like what she's heard the adults say, that all she needs is structure. Plus, he was the only blood she had. Neji was part of her old normal and she wasn't going to give that up.

She didn't think he would listen. He seemed pretty sure about what he was talking about. But then he didn't tattle after all, and yet the fights seemed even more vigorous.

She found a volume inside herself that she didn't know she had, and it had scared her into her room. Her own ears had boomed. It reminded her of all the yellings she used to receive before Kurenai, and her instincts to hide kicked in.

It wasn't Neji who came after her, but Naruto.

He felt bad about his behavior. But he wanted something in exchange. He couldn't just have nothing after this.

She wasn't sure what 'bugging her' was going to be like, but she's been wanting to get along with him since day one. All because he didn't like Neji, she thought that would never happen.

'Sure,' she told him, and the following afternoon he pinched her arm.

_______________________________

Hinata laid down curled on her bedroom floor just like she used to when she was little.

She shouldn't be here, listening to the sounds coming through the half-inch diameter hole in the wall, his guttural teenage lust spilling over into her sanctum, the exaggerated moans of the other girl stabbing her heart.

He thinks she isn't home right now.

She wants to keep it that way.

Because no matter what he means to her, no matter how much she wants him, it can never happen.

She closes her eyes and pictures herself in the other girl's place. Girl no. 49 she calls her.

She doesn't have the courage to watch, but some twisted part of her wants the torture.

She wants to see a part of Naruto that she'll never have.

_______________________________

After the first girl, some drama had started up at school for Naruto.

She had seen Hinata's shoes in the genkan when she left, but had no idea who they belonged to.

She accused Naruto of sneaking away to invite a different girl to come over.

Now half of the female student body hated him, while the other half wanted to get some for themselves.

Hinata was disappointed to find that he relished in his new reputation as a player, that he would take whatever infamy he got if it gave him what he wanted in this world.

Some timid part of her that remained said, Good for him. After all, he deserved to be happy and enjoy his life.

And yet some shadowy part of her felt she was as good a stranger to him than a sister, seeing as how there could be no room for her as either a sister, a friend or love interest.

She thought to both test him and sabotage him after the fourth girl. Two terribly petty things she thought she would never do.

He knows when she leaves something of hers in his room, it means she wants him to come over.

So she left a pair of panties atop his bed in hopes Girl no. 5 would realize his promiscuity and go home.

It didn't work. Instead it excited Girl no. 5. Her expectations of his skill has risen with the proof that he had a revolving door of hot girls coming in and out of here and they went at it louder and rougher than the first four.

Hinata made sure to disappear before they found out she'd been home. When the coast seemed clear and Hinata feigned nonchalance as she came home, with a weak 'Tadaima' to the only other person home, she did not get the usual greeting.

She crept towards her bedroom, somehow not expecting Naruto to answer her invitation.

He sat at her low table in the middle of her room, the pair she had left behind now sitting atop her comforter.

He couldn't look her in the eyes.

He didn't seem mad, rather dumbfounded.

What a thing to give him when wanting to chat, is probably what was going through his head. Like, maybe she had an ulterior motive she was trying to express to him.

Well, she did, perhaps. This wasn't her ideal way to flirt with him, nor was it how she'd choose to shoot her shot.

She doubted her panties excited him, in the first place.

With a soft sigh, Hinata nodded to herself. She crossed her room without a word, hanging her school bag on the back of her desk chair. Then she approached her bed and picked up her underwear, telling him "Thank you for finding them," before placing them back inside her underwear drawer.

She was rooted to that spot, her hands gripping the trim of her double dresser.

From the corner of her eye, she could see him scratch at his cheek, the way he does when a reply feels too weird to say.

He stood up, and just before reaching the door he mumbled, "Just don't lose them again, okay?"

The door closed behind him, and Hinata's shoulders lowered along the length of her exhale, her stress leaving her like dropping water levels.

Then on a Sunday, when Hinata was invited to a dessert buffet with Sakura and Ino, she found out her favorite linen top with the frilly button trim had shrunk in the dryer.

While uncomfortably snug, she could still button every one but the two across her chest.

Ino loved keyhole cuts, but this would not pass social decency.

She tugged and tugged but still the buttons wouldn't reach their homes. Her eyes burned as a flurry of despair hit her in quick succession.

She was getting older. She was growing up. She was getting bigger. Like, inelegantly bigger. She loved this top. She didn't want to say goodbye to it. She didn't want to say goodbye to a lot of things.

Like choosing where to go for High School.

Something possessed her to walk out of her room and find him. She would play up her little sister role in utter defiance.

"Hinata?" Naruto shot up from the sofa and ran to her side.

"Did you dry my clothes?" More accusation than question, her voice was keened wetly with every consonant. "I can't wear this anymore."

Naruto stood there, sputtering, hands uselessly gesticulating at her ample cleavage.

She's never seen his face so red.

Did he look like this when he was thrusting into his rotation of harem girls?

"U-Uh, maybe it's still okay?" He reached out and gripped the fabric of her shirt, his rough fingers ghosting across her skin. A tingle ran up her spine. His eyes became wild for a second. As if to cover up his embarrassment, he became even more determined to prove he didn't ruin her clothes, but doing so made it worse for the both of them.

The forceful tugging made her breasts bounce in a way he was all too familiar with, but none had ever been as big as hers.

As if catching his dirty thoughts, Naruto released her and ran out of the living room, shouting spastically "I'msorryI'llreplaceit!"

Hinata had placed a hand over her exposed skin, right where he had touched her, and she couldn't fight down a smile, however pained and wistful.

This was probably all she was ever going to get.

She decided to play up the risks today, and forwent a bra, using a velvet cropped jacket to hide her nipples.

She received a lot of compliments that Sunday.

Things like this had happened between her and the object of her adoration and frustration, but nothing ever really changed.

He still brought girls over when he thought she wasn't home.

And she still snuck in to try and be a part of it, to learn more about him, to indulge is some form of masochism she didn't know she had.

It wasn't good for her heart.

And when she and Naruto decided individually that they'd stay with everyone else and go to Konoha Normal High, Hinata decided it was time to get serious about her life.

Her renewed late night phone calls with Neji gave her back her structure.

She started her own club. Called it the Volunteers Association. Basically all they did every Sunday was clean up trash in a pre-chosen location from the crack of dawn until lunch time. Beautifying their hometown was a lesson in gratitude and pride.

She also joined the Public Morals Committee, because it would look good on her resume, not because she’d developed an interest in policing others. It also helped her overcome her fear response to raised voices.

But when she did police others, she learned more and more about other people in a way she never thought she would.

For example, the majority of the porn magazines they confiscated were of G-cup models, with M-cup and C-cup ranking in second and A-cup ranking in last. This told her the preferences of the male student body. How important that information was to her? Well, it kind of helped know which boys to be leery of. She had grown to be a little more realistic about herself: She had curves.

Another example was how many students came to school in a hurry and for what reasons. Most of it was due to oversleeping, which were the result of late-night gaming (like someone else she knows), or excessive studying, or part-time jobs. Few others showed up looking like they had taken a detour to the baseball supply closet to fool around (also like the same someone else she knows).

Running in the halls ensued due to prankish behavior.

Failure to advertise for upcoming club events due to limp commitment or a loss of interest.

When the time came for bag checks, where a teacher would confiscate candy and make-up, that’s where Hinata drew the line. She knew her classmates needed sugar to make it through the day. She advised the pretty girls, the gyaru, even the ones she knew had been in Naruto’s bed, that they could still cheat the system if they were clear lip gloss and neutral colors. That really turned their impression of her around on its head.

To sum it up, everyone was going with the flow, chasing one promise of excitement after another, the future too intangible for them to grasp. Their Springtime of Youth was not over.

The amount of blank career sheets cemented her point.

_______________________________

Hinata collapsed onto a bench as the physical and mental exertion caught up to her.

The school was bustling with a multitude of craft projects as they prepared for their annual School Festival.

As a committee member and Volunteer Associate, she was running herself ragged from classroom to classroom, club to club, helping to ensure that everyone's efforts were going smoothly.

A smooth chill touched her cheek. She opened her eyes. Ino held out a cold water bottle against her heated skin, and Hinata smiled.

"Thank you," Hinata accepted the bottle and held it to her neck. Ino sat down next to her. A series of violent thumps met their ears as an irritated Kiba chased down a gloating Naruto, with Kiba's club materials in his hands. Hinata's voice cracked once she opened her mouth, but Ino's voice rang out in her stead.

"NO RUNNING IN THE HALLS!"

Hinata thanked her again as she sank against the wall and relished in the soothing sensation of her water bottle. She didn't realize she had overworked her voice already, too.

"That one's going nowhere," Ino tsked quietly.

"Who?"

"Naruto-baka. He thinks he can live this way forever. Life'll stop being so funny when he's working behind a convenience store register."

"Cashiers serve an important purpose."

"So you agree he's going to end up a cashier," Ino smirked with a wink.

Hinata opened her mouth to complain, but her will instantly deflated inside of her. Ino laughed at the sequence of emotions that played out across Hinata's face, and the latter simply resumed being exhausted human jello that needed more time to restore her shape.

"A cashier baby daddy with five children, each from a different mom," Ino added.

Hinata tried to blink away the haze steadily overtaking her. "No."

Her chest twisted at the thought.

If that really came to pass, he would take responsibility. He would never leave his own children behind, even if he had to go it alone.

Hinata pressed her free palm against her eyes, her lips trembled even as they tightly pressed into a thin line.

"Hinata?" Came Ino's panicked voice.

"It's just a headache," she lied.

"When was the last time you ate?" Ino barely waited for a response. "I'll go grab some food from the cafeteria and be right back with pain relievers. Just stay right there. And no more shouting. You're done for the day!"

Ino ran off to complete her mission and Hinata couldn't be sure if she was grateful for her absence or even more afraid of it.

Just thinking about Naruto...

She doesn't understand how she still feels about him.

His entire existence hurts her, and she can't name all the ways that he does.

She wants to go back to work.

_______________________________

Hinata never thought her world could turn upside a third time. She never thought her structures could be kicked out from under her.

But then on the opening day of the School Festival, when the school gates are only open for family members, an elementary-aged girl with long, dark brown hair and sharp, lavender eyes came along by herself. A single strand dangled between those discerning eyes as they swept around her surroundings.

Hinata was managing the line outside the maid café, greeting customers in a lilac outfit, when the girl showed up.

Their eyes met.

Hers widened. With surprise. With recognition. With curiosity.

Hinata's eyes were only horrified.

The little girl bounced up to meet her.

Hinata's heart hammered in her ears, it swell to the point of choking. Her vision doubled and smeared. She tried to catch her breath, but nothing, nothing was going in. She tried to breathe faster. They call this air hunger. Her body was cold, prickly.

No. She didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to know.

The little girl eyed her from head to toe, then smirked.

"You really do like mom. But you're a little chubbier than I expected."

AN: Apologies if the third scene's timeline is written in an unclear way. It's supposed to be stuff that happened in sequence prior to the second scene.

Hm! I totally forgot how good it feels to write fanfiction. I literally had a head high the whole time. 😂

I hope you like this chapter! And let me know if I'm doing better at hooks and/or cliffhangers! I haven't looked at any of my activity since the last chapter, so I'm going to respond now if there is anything to respond to, that is.

[seekingseven]

All I would like to request is Legend and Sky hanging out, maybe being friends. Also, love you lots Seeking! Hope you're taking care of yourself and having a good day. It's what you deserve ^u^

Linked Universe Prompt Requests #3!

First of all, I appreciate you so much, Silver! And second, here you go!

(You can also read the fic here on Ao3)

~~~~~~

Legend leaned against his kitchen counter, chin in his palm and nose scrunched against the breeze leaking through the window.

"Foul ball, that was a foul ball!"

"Wha- no it wasn't! You can't call a foul ball whenever we score!"

Warriors and Twilight glowered at each other. On the far side of the backyard, Wind dribbled a spotted ball between his ankles and made small talk with Wild, who was trying to wipe away the sweat pooling under his arms with the end of his ponytail.  Legend scrunched his nose in disgust. Apparently the champion's bright idea to host a ball game in the hottest hour of the afternoon had come back to bite him.

His focus drifted over to the other side of his backyard, where Hyrule stood forlornly between two wooden posts. His team's poor excuse for a goal, most likely.

"You tried to trip me!"

"I did not! Stop whining, would you? If you wanted to win you should have learned the rules of the game beforehand."

"Cut me some slack, Twi. It's my first time playing!"

"Not an excuse. If you wanted to learn you could have just stayed inside with Sky and Legend or gone to the market with Four!"

Warriors took a few quick steps forward. Twilight stood his ground and puffed up his chest.

"That's enough, you two." Time said, voice snapping from his spot on a nearby bench. Legend grunted. What kind of referee watched from a bench? This was why there was an argument happening in the first place.

Behind him, the kettle began to whistle. Legend pushed himself off his elbows and turned to shut off the stove top, only partially ignoring the sounds of athletic revelry from the backyard. Porcelain clinked as Legend pulled a cup off the drying rack, then, glancing across the room, pulled off another.

If Sky was bothered by any of the commotion outside or the domestic ambience inside, he didn't show it. Instead, he sat at a table by the porch window, filing idly through the mounds of miscellaneous letters and trinkets piled around him. An overhead cuckoo clock wheedled out a dinky tune as Sky scrutinized an oddly-shaped mask.

"Coffee?" Legend asked.

Sky looked up from the table, then smiled.

"Yes, please!"

"Wrong, it's tea. What kind do you want?"

Sky's eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he caught on.

"Oh, haha! You got me. Uh, I don't really know. Surprise me."

Legend nodded to himself as he poured the kettle into the two cups. "You like sweet stuff?"

"Yeah, big fan. Can't drink anything too hot, though. Hurts my face. You got any iced tea or something?"

Steam plumed from the cups. Legend let out a small snort.

"Would have been nice to know that earlier."

Sky scratched the back of his neck and had the decency to offer up an apologetic smile. With a roll of his eyes, Legend set the kettle down and hoisted himself onto the kitchen counter.

He knew he stored the ice cubes in one of the overhead cabinets, but which one? Cabinets opened and closed as Legend balanced precariously on the countertop. Where was it? Had he really been gone so long that he didn't know where his own things were?

"Hey Legend, what's this?"

Paper rustled. The legs of Sky's chair squeaked as he leaned back, and in the corner of his eye Legend saw his companion hold something up to his face.

"Little busy here," Legend mumbled, closing yet another cabinet full of pots and pans. Maybe he should give some to Ravio; the guy needed some things for his new place, anyway. "Can you describe it to me?"

A snicker, then a stifled sound of agreement. Legend would have turned around to glare at Sky if he wasn't busy gloating over his find; the ice, at last! The countertop groaned as Legend plopped the bag of ice atop it and hopped onto the floor.

"It's a letter," Sky began, his voice uncharacteristically suave. Legend's eyes narrowed. "It's in this little pink envelope, and there's a little heart sticker on it. Says on the back....'from Elise.' Oh ho ho! Who's Elise? And there's another one here! This one's white, and it has a flower sticker on the lip. Very, very cute. Is this from Elise, too? Let me see...oh goddesses! 'From Carmen!' Carmen! Now tell me, does Elise know about this Carmen?"

Sky looked up at him with an impossibly smug grin. Legend pressed the corners of his lips down as he pulled out the rest of the ingredients for the tea.

"They're just girls," Legend began. "Just-"

"Just girls? What kind of philosophy is that? And to think you criticize Warriors for his womanizing tendencies..."

"You didn't let me finish! They're just girls who work at the bakery in Castle Town. I don't know how they got my address, but one day they all started sending me letters like that."

Sky's eyebrows piqued upwards. It might have looked innocent if not for the devious smile on his face.

"Oh, I see. So why did you keep them? Elise and Carmen must have been very sorry to have not received any response," Sky said, rifling through the stack of pink and red and crème colored letters and flipping them over to read the names on the back. Legend pretended he didn't see Sky's grin widen. "And I'm guessing the same is true for poor Lisa...and Donatella...and Trish..."

It was a good thing that Legend was preoccupied with measuring out sugar and honey, because if he had been any closer to the ice cubes, they might have melted from the heat radiating off Legend's face.

"I'm serious, Sky! I don't know any of them. I don't know why they kept sending the letters -- I never even gave them my address! I mean, I'm sure they're all really nice girls, but I'm just not, you know, in the position to be in a relationship right now...with the traveling and heroics and all that..."

Silverware clattered as Legend pulled open a drawer and retrieved a fruit knife. The sound of shouting and running echoed from outside. Light streamed through the kitchen window, and the breeze pushed along dust bunnies on the floor. Sky studied Legend, watching with unusual intensity as the latter skinned and diced a peach, then folded his hands behind his head.

"Fine, fine. But one more question, then."

Legend made a vague sound that could have been read as either grateful or irritated; most likely, it was a combination of both. Sky pushed forward anyway.

"Why'd you keep them?"

"What?"

"The cards. Why did you keep them? Did you just not have a chance to throw them away or something?"

"Throw them away? Of course not! Did you see the paper they're made of? That sort of high quality cardstock doesn't come from just anywhere! If I can find a way to bleach the paper without damaging it, I can use it for all sorts of things!"

Sky snorted, smiled, and tossed a handful of pink cards back onto the table. Hoarder, indeed.

"I think that Ravio friend of yours is starting to rub off on you."

"He is not," Legend insisted, placing a spoon and straw in both cups before walking over to the table. Only after Sky brushed away the cards in front of him did Legend hand him his tea. "He would have tried to sell them off as antiques or something. Guy wouldn't know what a real antique was even if it was staring him in the face."

Sky hummed. The sound bubbled into his tea and set little capsules of air drifting across the frothy surface. "Hey, did you put peaches in this?"

"Yeah, you like it?"

Outside, Warriors cried foul and Hyrule said something about headshots. Sky sipped his drink again, then grinned. "Mmmm, delicious. Yeah, I love it! Give me the recipe sometime, huh?"

"Heh, will do. Glad you like it."

"And speaking of Ravio, where is he? Didn't you say he used to squat here?"

Legend nodded, hands cupped around his drink and goosebumps flaring from its soothing coolness. "He did, but he just moved out. Got his own shop by the castle, with a big nice sign out in front. Professionally made. It looks pretty good, honestly. I haven't seen him in a while, but I might drop by sometime to say hi."

"Ah, I see," Sky said, absently threading one of the love letters through his fingers. Legend shot him a dirty glare, but he paid it no mind. "Hey, you said that these girls somehow figured your address, right? Do you think Ravio might have given it out? Maybe while you were gone or something?"

"Ravio? That's ridiculous. He's not the sort of guy to do that. For the longest time he's been telling me to...to..."

Legend's eyes widened. The goosebumps along his arms grew more pronounced, and this time it wasn't from his chilly drink.

"He what?" Sky prompted.

"He's been telling me to get a girlfriend for the longest time and...he...he set me up. He set me up! He gave out my address to those girls. I know it! He...this is his fault!"

Sky burst into laughter. Tea sprayed across the table, splattering across rose-colored envelopes and sparkling cardstock. Legend punched him in the shoulder, hard, but Sky didn't stop.

"Ravio! Ravio as your wingman, I would have never thought! Doing the goddesses' work, he is!"

"Oh, shut up, would you? I'm not going to make you tea again!"

Their punching and tousling cooled when the front door swung open. A moment later, Four stepped inside, arms laden with groceries and a peculiar grin on his face.

"You're back!" Sky said. Legend mumbled something about Sky stating the obvious before placing his cup to his cheek, trying to smother his burning blush.

"Sorry to interrupt whatever was going on here," Four said. That odd smile was still on his face. "I’m just about to put all these groceries away, but there's something I need to give to Legend first."

"Me?" Legend asked. Four's grin widened; it looked unnervingly similar to the one Sky had worn just minutes ago.

"Yes, special delivery. From a certain 'Amelia'. It's the red box, yeah, that one."

Legend picked up the box gently, sandwiching it between his forearm and bicep, and shuddered. Sky and Four traded a sidelong look before the latter darted off into the kitchen.

"Well? What do you think it is?" Sky asked.

"I don't want to know," Legend whispered. He took a seat by the table before tossing the box by his cup. Something rustled inside.

"Open it..."

"Open it!" Four chimed from the kitchen. His voice was unusually high.

With a world weary sigh, Legend edged his fingers under the box cover and slowly lifted it upwards.

"Well? What is it?"

"Wait, would you? I can't tell..."

Legend leaned forward, squinting.

His eyes widened.

With an undignified BANG, he slammed the box shut and launched it across the room. His face was stained a dangerous color of scarlet.

"...well?" Sky repeated, "what was it?"

Legend let out a short breath, then leaned over to cradle his head in his hands.

"...remind me to kill Ravio the next time I see him," he growled.

Sky and Four burst into laughter, and even Legend couldn't fully stifle a smile.

~~ Fine ~~ I hope you enjoyed! Thank you so much for reading! [Previous Request] - [Next Request]

[jujutsubabe]

Library

Synopsis: (This is set when Gojo and Getou were in highschool) You are all in the library trying to practice presentations but Gojo can’t stop being distracting.

(I mean,,, no ship tbh? Kinda platonic reader insert but u can take it as Gojo flirting)

Word count: 1.7k

—————

A library is supposed to be silent, filled with studying and well focused people. It’s a place meant for peace and quiet, so everyone there can get a good grasp on their subjects without any distractions.

The library is known for being the best place to work in, you are surrounded by peers and books and computers of all kind. The amount of resources is unlimited, mixing alone and social time all into one setting, a beautiful design.

However, if you mix a quiet respectable place with three idiots, you tend to get the opposite of what a library is supposed to be.

The library was filled with your quiet snorts and giggles as you sat in the back of the room, you putting your hand over your mouth did nothing to silence you as you shook.

Gojo bit down on his lip as he tried to contain his laugh as well, waiting for the right timing to say another dumb joke.

You felt the stares of a few of your peers, but couldn’t help from giggling in your corner. It was one of those rare moments where you felt air escape your lungs in a good way, the crunching of your sides was a ticklish feeling. It was so carefree and fun, a simple memory you would keep every time you entered a library.

You turned to Gojo at the same time as him, trying to put on a serious face but when you saw his struggling one you couldn’t help but crack a huge smile and fall back into your lap cackling. He turned away snickering to his side as well.

You had been here for what felt like hours, you trying to go over your presentation but barely getting through the first slide with how Gojo suddenly wanted to be a comedian. Not letting you catch a break each slide.

It didn’t help that you were already behind in your presentation, he just fed into your procrastination. Making this workload ease into other hours of your day, it seemed like the only thing you could do for the day was work on this presentation.

Getou rested his chin on his hand, “You egg him on when you do that.”

“I know!” You wheezed, “But its so—so hard, I can’t focus.”

Gojo leaned in to whisper something else but Getou tilted his head, “Satoru, you’re a distraction.”

He pulled back, fixing his sunglasses with a wide grin. The class clown couldn’t help but make light of such a boring atmosphere, what was he even supposed to do in here? (Study Gojo… study…)

Picking on you two was way more fun than doing his fifty-billion already missing assignments.

“What?” He looked over his glasses, “It’s not my fault I’m this funny.”

“No, he’s right!” You took deep breaths, pulling into your center, “He’s right, let me try again and don’t distract me!” You pointed with a warning intent.

He grinned at you, playing on his innocent expression, which didn’t come across as very genuine.

It was like he called for attention to himself just by entering a room. No one could ignore him. So imagine how much harder it would be to ignore him if this giant ray of sunshine was sitting right next to you, pestering you every second.

“So,” you skimmed over your notes, “for this presentation, I wanted to research how the possible extinction of polar bears is such a condenen— conquential—conquista-- conse-”

“Are you trying to say consequential?” Geto asked.

There was a slight moment of silence, maybe half a second before, like a burst of a bubble, Gojo snorted and turned his head to the side giggling away. It didn’t help that his laugh was so contagious. It was like a yawn, when one person did it everyone else did.

Geto looked away, covering the slight curl of his mouth. He tried his best to be the mature one in the group but sometimes Gojo broke down that expectation with something as simple as giggling like a child.

Him trying to not smile mixed with Gojo’s actual laugh made it so much harder to not give in yourself. These two really couldn’t stop goofing around, no matter the situation.

You forced a frown, “Guys, It’s not funny!”

Gojo made a look at Getou, and Getou let out the lightest huff of air before shaking his head. “You’re right. Continue.”

“Thank you,” you cleared your throat, getting your notes in order, “I think it’s important to note that a big factor that could lead to their extinction are greenhouse gas em… emm...emnio—”

You squinted at the page, pulling it closer, you ignored Gojo’s pestering smile beside you. If you even looked at him you knew this would be all bad, he had a way of pulling you from work and not letting you get back to it.

Getou tapped the paper, “What’s wrong?”

You slid the paper to him, “I don’t know how to say that.”

He pulled the paper to his face with a slight frown. He blinked a few times, trying to not let confusion seep onto his face. With a little bit of inspecting, he eventually slipped the paper across for Gojo to help.

Gojo blinked back at the paper, a smile curling onto his face, “Is this your handwriting…?”

Getou hid his face while Gojo’s smile widened into a grin, then a chuckle, then a full on laugh, the both of them snickering onto themselves. You rolled your eyes, as Gojo banged his hand on the table like he saw the funniest thing on the damn planet.

These two were rolling over themselves over your sleep filled handwriting! It wasn’t even that funny!

You scoffed as the two went into hysterics over your handwriting, trying to fight off the smile crawling it’s way onto your face. It took so much to not give in.

It was all fun and games until a few students started to share a few looks from across the room. A few glared your direction, some actually leaving the place for a quieter place to study. No one seemed to enjoy your table's joy the same way you all were.

The three of you were being a nuisance to the quiet work environment, contradicting the point of a library with your presence. But why was laughing in the library more fun than laughing in your room with each other?

Was it the concept of breaking the rules that tickled you? Or maybe it was the hysteria of working on something for too long without breaks, forcing you all into taking a different kind of break.

None of you noticed when a select few students got up to talk to the teachers about you three. Whispering to the side and pointing a teacher your direction.

Your head popped up when you heard the light tapping of heels and keychains coming your direction. A more than pissed off adult looking straight towards your table.

You shook Gojo and grabbed his arm, “Dude shut up! Shut up the teachers coming!”

Before you could grab yourselves together, the teacher already arrived by your table, tapping on the desk until she got your attention. “I’m going to need you all to quiet down or leave. You’re being a distraction.”

Gojo quirked a brow, opening his mouth, but you spoke up before he said something disrespectful.

“Sorry.” You nudged the guy next to you, “We’ll be more quiet.”

She pursed her lips as she did a once over of you all, definitely memorizing your faces. You lot were making this poor lady do more than needed on her shift. She probably couldn’t wait until you guys messed up again so she could kick you out for good.

“Thank you.” She did a last sharp look before she eventually turned, walking away to the front desk again. Full hawk eyes on your table.

You turned around to the group, trying to regain composure. It was so awkward having her stare and know that you had to be on your best behavior. Everyone sat silently, no one even moving.

Until Gojo leaned back in his seat, twisting his head to look at you. You tried your best to not look at him…you could literally feel his stare through your head. He was insufferable.

…However, you couldn’t help the curiosity and slowly turned your head to meet his eyes. Just one look and his face flooded into a winced grin, already trying to hold back laughter with a squeaking sound from him.

With that, your composure broke and you released a set of giggles while Getou covered his mouth. Just like that Gojo won, he ate this attention up, releasing his own dumb fit of laughter.

You guys really couldn’t go a minute in silence could you?

Getou smiled and stood from the table, “Were not getting anything done. Let’s get food.”

You nodded, you were surprised it took this long for someone to realize that. This was a highly anticipated break you put off for too long, not realizing just how much time was wasted goofing off until now.

“I want ice cream!” Gojo slung your bag over his shoulder.

You blinked between the two as they gathered their belongings, starting to disperse from the table. You were still getting yourself together, scrambling with your things as the tall pair strided to the exit. “Guys wait up!”

They very much did not wait up, if anything it seemed as though their pace got quicker. (Gojo even looked back before grinning that sinister smile of his and walking faster.)

When you darted out of the seat, you just so happened to glance back at the table.

It had a few balled up sheets of paper under it, (that Gojo made and threw at the both of you) the chair’s weren’t pushed in, and if you looked closely you could see a few doodles sprawled along it.

For some reason, the table setting that would definitely piss off that teacher, made you smile. It showed proof that you and your friends had been there, that a few teens were messing around and having fun before they left.

Which you did, you made a good memory today. Those small moments of laughing at dust with friends, warmth from being so happy, comfort from having a tight bond.

It was all you needed, and all you wanted to remember anyways.

[plant-flwrs]

I love your writing! Can you do a reader x fred where the reader’s whole family (like siblings) is slytherin except her and she’s in gryffindor and you can do whatever with it thank you!

rivalries as old as time // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: omg i’ve never written mean!george this was kind of scary hehe. n e way, hope u like it! thanks for ur request!

summary: Fred and George are usually united on everything, but Fred’s crush on Draco Malfoy’s sister is definitely something they disagree on.

(5k)

---------

You had never liked red, and as you fidgeted with your red tie for the fifth time, you felt an elbow to your side.

“Stop,” Fred Weasley whispered from beside you, sending a scowl your way, “It’s distracting.”

“Distracting from what? You have no intention of taking notes,” you said, looking at both his and your blank parchments in front of you.

“Distracting from my daydreams,” he said easily, leaning forward on his desk to rest his forearms against the wood, “I need to focus on them, they’re just getting good.”

“What’re they about?” you asked, hoping to sound rude. Fred looked at you in the corner of his eye, and he was regrettably forced to admit that your signature Malfoy smirk was insanely attractive.

“Oh you know,” Fred said, copying your actions to lean back in his chair, “ the usual. Trolls and Gremlins.”

The both of you slouched in your chairs, arms crossed, ignoring the awfully boring lecture Professor Binns was giving.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed by Fred. Your gaze drifted across the room, trying to find something entertaining for your crystal gray eyes to focus on.

Fred, meanwhile, was internally slapping himself. Trolls and Gremlins? That was so stupid!

He watched your blonde hair fall from where it was loosely tucked into a headband, and you brought a mindless finger to put the hair back. He watched your simple movements, entranced by you.

You and Fred didn’t get along. You are a Malfoy, and he’s a Weasley. But still, somehow, you both always found yourselves thinking of the other.

History of Magic was his favorite class, because of you.

You and Draco had crossed paths on the way to lunch, and he walked briskly over to you, dismissing some of his Slytherin friends. You paid no mind to their scowls and figured they felt so angry because Gryffindor was playing Slytherin next week on the pitch.

“Has mum sent an owl to you this week?” Draco asked, craning his neck a little to look at you. His growth spurt hadn’t struck him yet.

“Oh!” you said, beginning to dig through your bag, “Sorry, forgot about it.”

You pulled a small parcel from your bag, handing it to your brother. The two of you were nearing the Great Hall, where you would have to split and go your separate ways.

“What is it?” you asked, feeling an obligation to be nosy in your little brother’s business.

“Some ink,” Draco said lazily, tucking the package into his own bag, “it’s my lucky ink.”

“Why? Is it enchanted?” you asked, and then lowered your voice, “Is that how you get such high marks?”

Draco smiled at your compliment and shook his head no.

“No, I get those because I study,” he said flatly, a dig at the fact that you excelled more on the Quidditch pitch than the academics.

You jokingly narrowed your eyes at him, and just before he walked to the Slytherin table, you reached out and ruffled his gelled hair. His joking stature quickly turned serious, and you broke into a jog to get to the Gryffindor table and away from Draco. You watched him attempt to smooth back his hair, chuckling as you slid down on the bench, a few seats away from Fred and George.

Fred was hunched over a poorly drawn drawing that George pointed to continuously while he talked.

“If we took that one corridor, there's that curtain that leads here,” George said, moving his finger to the right, “and then we can easily get back in time!”

You didn’t bother to ask, knowing George wouldn’t tell you. As much as you and Fred would get into little arguments, George had it out for you. Despite being his housemate, it was a known fact that you were the target of his pranks. Last year, he had snuck into the girl's Quidditch changing rooms and stole your clothes. You had to beg Fred from where he stood on the outside of the tent to make his brother give his clothes back, and when that didn’t work, you waved your wand and said “Accio clothes”. George had never run so fast up a hill, and he still couldn’t escape your wrath.

You pulled a sandwich from the tray in front of you.

“Malfoy,” Oliver Wood said, catching your attention.

“Yeah?” you said, taking a large bite of your sandwich.

“Did you look over that play I sent you?” Oliver asked, referring to the crumpled note he had tossed at the back of your head during Charms.

“Yeah,” you said, chewing and fishing in your bag for the note.

You pulled it out and saw Fred looking towards you. You looked at him before returning to Oliver. You unfolded the paper and Oliver hunched over it as George had done down the table.

Oliver’s hands were all over the simple drawing, his words getting lost in your boredom. You loved Quidditch, but god, could Oliver be boring.

“What are you two talking about?” both of your heads snapped up to see Fred forcing himself between the two first years that sat across you.

Oliver handed him the paper, pointing at all the meanings of the symbols.

“This,” he finally said, catching his breath, “is how we’re gonna beat Slytherin next week.”

Your weeknights were spent with Oliver, both of you ranting on about strategies while also trying to get done some homework. You occupied a wooden table that was usually used for chess, but the board was moved over to the coffee table where Ron and Harry played.

Fred watched, nearly pouting, from his spot on the couch. He watched the way your light eyes would brighten at the words Oliver said to you, and how you would blush every time he offered you a compliment on your playing.

“Ready for practice tonight?” Fred said, sliding up next to you as you waited outside of Binns’ classroom.

“Yeah,” you said absentmindedly, picking at your nails.

“George and I won’t take it easy on you,” Fred said, his veiled attempt at sounding threatening failing.

“Oh, Fred,” you said, faking a shake in your voice, “you don’t mean that.”

Fred rolled his eyes at your teasing, following after you as you walked to your shared desk.

Both of you came down the Gryffindor stairs at the same time, dressed in your practice jerseys and equipment in hand.

You glanced at him and caught his eyes looking you up and down. You chuckled to yourself, and his face flushed red.

You walked through the portrait hole with Oliver, and Fred watched you as he waited for George.

The two of them twisted and tossed their beater bats from hand to hand as they were perched on their brooms. You and Alicia faced off near the ground, hovering stoically. It was no competition, you were a better flyer than Alicia. She nearly had you matched in the power of her arm, but you still had the upper hand.

Fred bit his lip as you extended yourself to reach for the Quaffle. Your legs were the only thing keeping you on the broom, but you didn’t pay any mind to the unsteadiness. The only thing you thought of was the play Oliver had ingrained in your mind the past week. You repeated his critiques in your head and made sure to fix your grip on the Quaffle.

Alicia trailed after you, and you dove under Angelina to avoid her grasp. They were both trailing after you now. Alicia was nearly taken off her broom by a Bludger, and risking a glance upwards, you saw Fred’s triumphant smile. It was lucky that Fred was on your team for this practice because George had a nasty habit of failing to block Bludgers from hitting you.

Nearing near the goal post, you easily wound your arm back and sent the Quaffle right past Oliver. He slapped his gloved hands on his broom and sent you a proud smile.

The practice continued, and you weren’t hit with a Bludger the whole time, no matter how many George sent at you. Fred was always there to send them off, and send you a wink after he did it. You won the practice scrimmage, but Alicia put up a good fight.

“We have this,” Alicia said, beaming at you as she shed her heavy robes in the changing room.

“If we don’t I think Oliver’ll have an aneurism,” you joked, pulling on a loose t-shirt.

Angelina chuckled, and Alicia continued to beam.

“Really lucky Fred saved you from all those Bludgers,” Katie Bell teased from behind you.

“George has got it out for me,” you said nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders.

“Yeah, but, Fred sure kept you safe,” she continued to hint, but it went over your head.

“Well yeah, we can’t have an injury two days before the match,” you said, closing your locker and shuffling the combination.

Alicia rolled her eyes, and Angelina laughed.

“Yeah, that’s why,” Katie said, giving up.

You walked up the path to the castle and saw a clan of black robes walking down the path. You saw blond hair that matched yours peaking from one of them.

“Draco!” you called to your brother, breaking into a jog to reach him.

“Hey,” he said, breaking off from his Slytherin teammates.

“Are you guys ready for the match?” you asked excitedly.

Draco huffed out a defeated sigh, crossing his arms.

“No,” he admitted, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his housemates couldn’t hear him, “we bloody suck.”

You fought the cheeky smile that crept onto your face.

“Oh, that’s rotten, Draco,” you said, beginning to walk back down the hill with him, “I’m sure you’ll play your best.”

“I’ll try,” he said, beginning to shoo you off, “go do your homework.”

You rolled your eyes at your brother and waved him off, setting back up the castle.

The day of matches was always nerving, but it was even worse when it was against Slytherin. It felt like everyone in the school wanted you, needed you, to beat them.

You and Oliver sat shoulder to shoulder, both trying to get the other to eat something for breakfast. You both claimed to be too nervous, and then the other would say “that’s ridiculous, you have to eat!”.

Walking to the pitch, Harry Potter trailed behind all of you. You watched the twins stop to reach him, each wrapping a comforting and brotherly arm around his shoulders. You smiled to yourself, slipping into the changing room with the rest of the girls.

The crowd was roaring. It had never been this loud. Various chants sounded off, and you soon realized that someone in the Slytherin crowd learned a charm to louden their voice. Hateful words about Harry spouted from the green stands, and boos countered the Slytherin statements from the blue, yellow, and red bannered stands.

Taking the field, you hovered in front of Adrian Pucey as you had hovered in front of Alicia. Alicia was much nicer to look at, you thought, and she was a better player.

Pucey was barely moving before you soared off with the Quaffle tucked under your arm. You avoided the Slytherin chasers easily, twisting and ducking on your broom with the Quaffle on you like it was a third arm attached to your body. Cheers sounded off as you faked out Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey, making them dive into each other and nearly sending them off their brooms.

You looked back, seeing Alicia wide open behind you. You glanced forward, the Slytherin keeper braced for your shot. You slowed, allowing Alicia to come to your side. You made a seamless pass to her that the keeper hadn’t noticed, and while he looked at you, Alicia came from the left and scored. You met her to high five, your arms outstretched.

Fred dove to you, following a very determined Bludger. His bat was nearly touching it, nearly about to send it off its path towards you. He was just about to reach it when you dove. Fred and the Bludger soared past you, and the Bludger redirected itself. Doing a loop, and seeing that you were no longer there, it went for the next best thing. Alicia barely had time to brace herself before the Bludger knocked her shoulder out of its socket. The painful injury only caused a short interruption, but she had some choice words for Fred and George for failing to hit the Bludger sooner.

After that one incident, the game continued in the same fashion. You and Alicia flew circles around the lacking Slytherin Chasers, and Oliver blocked nearly everything they sent at him.

The cheers from the crowd stayed consistent for the entire match. There was never a silent moment from any house. A renowned gasp fell across the crowd, though, as Draco changed direction quickly. He turned the end of his broom straight up, and with an outstretched hand, Harry was breathing down Draco’s neck. You watched your brother, his blond hair flying off his face, his long arms reaching out into the sky. You didn’t feel bad for rooting for Draco, because even if he caught it, you were so ahead it wouldn’t have mattered.

Draco’s pale fingers eventually did wrap around the snitch, and without thinking, he let go of his broom in the haste of catching the little thing. He began to fall from the sky, and you watched as his legs and arms flailed around him. His broom fell faster than he did, and you flew to him. You were pulling your wand from your boot when someone had beat you to it. Draco hung suspended in mid-air, his body limp. He raised his head, and you saw his ghostly cheeks flushed pink. He looked around, patting his body to check if he was still alive. When he realized he was, he raised his hand into the sky, showing the golden snitch. The green section roared with laughter, but Lee Jordan’s voice halted them.

“Just a reminder! The Gryffindor team still wins!”

Cheers from every other section sounded off, and you felt a pang of guilt in your heart. You could be a Slytherin, you should be a Slytherin, and here you were apart of one of the houses that cheered for your brother's losses.

You flew to Draco, watching as he tucked the snitch into his robe pocket. You hovered, and he climbed onto the back of your broom. You looked around to see who had saved him, only to see Fred’s smug smile above you. George hovered next to his brother, scowling at Fred. You watched Fred tuck his wand back into his robes, giving you a shy wave. You smiled back at him, a silent thanks for the help.

You flew Draco to the ground, where he collected his broom.

“You were great, Dray,” you said, clapping him on the back, “really.”

“We lost,” he spat at you, cringing from your touch.

“Yeah but that’s not your fault.” you consoled him, watching his face soften, “You did your job, you caught the snitch.”

Draco nodded at you, offering you an appreciative smile. You wrapped an arm around his shoulder and squeezed briefly, then sending him off to his sulking Slytherin team captain.

Oliver was already running towards you, arms outstretched.

“Y/n!” he called, and you smiled widely at him.

“You were amazing, Wood,” you called to him, letting him envelop you in a hug.

He pulled you over to the huddle of your teammates, and they were all beaming.

“Wasn’t Potter this time, was it?” Lee Jordan called from his place in the spectator box, “Y/n Malfoy, the best Chaser Gryffindor’s got!”

You blushed wildly at Lee’s exaggerated praise, ducking your head as your teammates all cheered for you.

Fred and George came tumbling from the sky, landing ungracefully on the ground.

“Think this calls for a party?” Fred asked, and everyone’s cheers increased.

The common room was transformed into an even more red and gold haven. Maybe red was growing on you.

You were standing at the center of a huddle, everyone’s glasses raised. Oliver had just made a quite longwinded speech, to which you cut off with:

“Let’s drink to that!”

Cheers came from everyone around you, and you brought your firewhisky to your lips.

“I still don’t get why you did that,” George shouted at his brother, his words slightly slurred. George never could handle his liquor.

“It was her brother, mate!” Fred shouted back.

“He’s a Malfoy! And so is she! Freaks, the lot of them!” George yelled, and the statement trailed over the crowd and to your ears.

You turned to look at the twins, meeting George’s disgusted face.

You pushed through the crowd and put yourself between the brothers, bringing your face to George’s.

“What’s your problem?” you shouted, and he cringed away from the loud noise.

“You!” he shouted back, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“You’re a prick,” you said to him, sounding poisonous, “a drunk prick.”

George scoffed and brought a hand to your shoulder. He shoved you away, and you tumbled into Fred. Fred’s arms were around you before you could lunge at George as if he read your mind.

“Let me go!” you shouted to Fred, thrashing against him. George stood in front of you, taunting you. He waved his drink around, his drunken expression full of arrogance.

“I can’t!” Fred called out to you, then to George, “George, stop!”

George rolled his eyes and tossed back the rest of his drink. He stumbled off to somewhere else, leaving you in Fred’s grasp.

He felt your heavy breathing against his chest, your warm arms in his hands.

“You alright?” Fred spoke into your ear, his mouth moving against your hair.

“Yeah, I’m fine, you can let me go,” you said, wiggling from his grasp.

Fred hadn’t wanted to let you go, but he figured it would be odd if he kept you pulled against him.

“He didn’t mean that,” Fred started, but you waved him off.

“Yes he did,” you said. starting to walk away.

Fred reached out for you, pulling you back.

“I’m sorry,” Fred said, his eyes searching yours.

“Stop, Fred,” you said, pulling your arm from his hand again, “None of you Weasley’s have liked me since the day I was sorted into Gryffindor. It didn’t even matter who I was.”

Fred’s eyebrows furrowed at your statement, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything but sympathy as he looked at your hurt expression.

“That’s not true, Y/n,” he started, but you turned again. He didn’t stop you that time.

Your mood was ruined. You filled your cup with more firewhisky, but at the bottom of each glass, all you could see was George’s disgusted face.

You had never done anything to the Weasleys, but that never stopped the redheads, or their friends, from sending you glares any time they saw you. You felt torn, torn by the unnaturalness of you being in Gryffindor, being away from your brother. You were torn by the fact that you felt weren’t even wanted by Gryffindor. No matter what you did, it was never right.

You remembered watching Draco get sorted, his baby-faced wonder as he sat on the stool with his legs crossed at the ankles. You had hoped, you had even prayed, that Draco would be sorted into Gryffindor. When that house was called out, though, the table of green erupted, and you watched your brother be swept off by your rivaling house.

George would never understand this, he would never see you as anything but a Malfoy, a pure-blood supremacist. You weren’t what your family was, you didn’t care about blood status, but no one cared.

Your anger seethed, watching George having fun, dancing with Angelina. Your grip on your cup tightened, and you wanted more than anything to go up to him and throw what was left of your drink into his face. You started over to him.

Fred intercepted you, having been watching you intently the whole night.

“You don’t want to do this,” Fred said, trying to calm you down as he blocked your path to his brother, “wait ‘till morning, then you can scream at him all you want.”

You could only shake your head, trying to move pasted Fred. You didn’t want to do this in the morning, you wanted to do this now, while the warm anger moved through your blood as fast as the whiskey did.

Fred’s hands gripped your upper arms, holding you in place.

“Let me go, Fred,” you mumbled, teeth gritted.

“I can’t, Y/n,” he said, searching for your eyes like he was begging you to look at him.

“He can’t always get away with it,” you whispered, feeling your anger turn into sadness. You had refused to cry about George or anything he said in your first year, but it seemed that now was your breaking point.

“He won’t, I promise,” Fred whispered back, trying to sound reassuring. He found it hard, his heart hurting at the sight of you so upset.

“He always does!” you exclaimed, your voice breaking. Your eyes were still dry, but the pounding in your chest felt like a heart attack.

“Well, he won’t this time,” Fred replied, bringing his face to yours so you had no choice but to look at him, “I’ll make sure of it.”

You met his eyes, and he saw the hopeful glint in them. He offered you a kind smile, his lips stretched across his face. You nodded at him, relaxing in his grasp. You didn’t try to move from it, and you didn’t want to. You felt safe in Fred’s arms.

“Oi!” George called from behind Fred.

Fred turned, putting you behind his back and himself between you and George. You pushed and pulled, trying to get in front of him and to George, but he was too strong.

“Fred, when are you going to get over this?” George asked his brother, downing the last of his dark drink.

“Shut up, George,” Fred warned, trying to push you and him away from George.

“I’ve told you a million times, mate,” George started, “Malfoys and Weasleys don’t belong together.”

Fred was on top of George in seconds. He was wrestling him to the ground and putting him in a headlock.

You put a hand over your mouth, watching as they fought. You replayed George’s words, “Malfoys and Weasleys don’t belong together”. Was this simple brotherly teasing, or did Fred have feelings for you?

Katie and Alicia found you in the crowd, and you hadn’t even realized what you were doing as they pulled you off of Fred and George. You had grabbed Fred’s shoulders, trying to pull him off his brother, but they thrashed against your grip.

Alicia and Katie were guiding you up the girl's dormitory stairs, pushing you towards the bathroom as your face became green with nausea. Katie held your hair, rubbing your back as you emptied your breakfast and what looked to be an entire bottle of firewhisky.

You groaned, moving to rest your back on the wall in front of the toilet. Katie flushed the vomit, closed the lid, and sat in front of you.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her kind voice inviting you to tell her all about your insecurities and worries.

Alicia came in right at the part of you feeling guilty for not being Slytherin, and Angelina stumbled into the dorms at your conclusion of what George said about Weasleys and Malfoys.

The girls consoled you, assuring you that you had every right to be in Gryffindor and that George was just a prick.

“What’d you think he meant by that?” Katie said, testing your reaction, in reference to what George said.

“I dunno,” you grumbled, moving yourself to lay down on the ground. Alicia moved, grabbing your shoulder and making you stay upright.

“Could it mean Fred,” Alicia spoke like a kindergarten teacher, and your drunken self giggled as she spoke, “likes you?”

You gasped, your head falling back to hit the wall.

“No way,” you mumbled, and when Katie started giggling next to you, you did too.

When Fred finally made his way up the girl's stairs, bypassing the detouring charms, he heard loud and manic giggles coming from your dorm. He opened the door but found the beds empty. The door to the bathroom was open, and the sound came from there.

“Hello?” he said, rasping his knuckles on the door frame.

The four girls on the ground, all looked up at him with bright smiles, all saying at the same time: “Fred!”

Fred’s eyes went to yours immediately. He smiled as his name fell from your drunken lips, admiring the twinkle in your silver eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked, moving to crouch in front of you.

The other girls got the hint, and filed out of the bathroom, all mumbling something of good luck to you.

“Yeah,” you replied, still smiling.

Your eyes focused on his face, and you saw a nasty cut on his lip. It bled a little to the corner of his mouth and down his jaw, stopping just above his shirt collar.

Your smile dropped, and you brought a hand to his jaw, “Are you alright? You’re bleeding, Fred.”

He brought a hand to his lip, and when he pulled it away he saw blood. You pushed yourself to your feet, wobbling a little as you stood. You got a wad of toilet paper and wet it a little in the sink. You put your hands on Fred’s shoulders, telling him to be still.

He closed his eyes as you dragged the paper over his jaw and dabbed at his lip. Once you got the blood off, you got a dry piece of toilet paper and ran it back over his jaw again. He suppressed the groans he wanted to release, forcing his hands not to reach out and grab your waist. Once the trail of blood was gone, you used a finger to tilt his face up. You ran your fingers over where the blood had been, making sure you got it all. Fred’s mouth opened a little at the touch, and he sighed heavily. You let his face drop back to yours, and looked at him. His mouth still had some blood in the corner. You wet the pad of your thumb with your tongue and cupped Fred’s face. You brought your thumb to the corner of his mouth and swiped your finger across his lip. This time Fred wasn’t able to suppress the moan that came from his chest. Your hand still rested on his shoulder, and your hand still held his jaw.

“Did George do this?” you asked, fearful of his response.

“Must have,” Fred whispered back to you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, dropping your hands from Fred and turning your back to him, “I shouldn’t have gone over to him.”

“Hey,” Fred said, wrapping a hand on your waist and pulling you into him, “George deserved that. You should see the shiner I gave him.”

“I can’t let you fight your brother like that,” you whispered, putting a hand on his chest and feeling his beating heart, “you two don’t fight like that.”

“I don’t care. I’ll fight him every day until he gives you a chance,” Fred replied, bringing a hand from your waist to the back of your neck.

When he began to pull your face closer to his, you pulled back a little, still in his embrace.

“I can’t kiss you,” you said, a teasing smile on your face.

“Why not?” he pouted.

“I just threw up, it’s gross.”

Fred dug in his pocket for a second and pulled out a tin. It was one in the packaging of one of his products, but he assured you they had yet to be charmed to make people’s tongues swell.

“I don’t know,” you dragged, twisting the small mint in your fingers.

“Why would I prank you right now? You have no idea how much I want to kiss you,” he took the mint form your hand and put it in your mouth for you.

He was right, it was just a regular mint. The taste of vomit was gone, and after you chewed it, Fred barely wasted a second before he pulled you into him.

He kissed you hard, despite having a busted lip. When you ran your tongue over it, he winced, and you pulled back.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, bringing your hand up to it and touching his lip. His hand grabbed yours, and he placed gentle kisses to each of your fingertips. His hand moved to your palm, to your wrist, and up your arm. His mouth ran over your shoulder, which he pulled your shirt back from, and up your neck. His lips finally connected with yours again, and you let out a pleased moan.

Fred pushed you against the counter of the sink, and you wrapped your hands in his hair. The feeling of nausea hit you very quickly, and you pulled away from Fred. You doubled over, trying to will yourself from throwing up.

“Oh god,” you started, and Fred rushed to your side, “I’m gonna throw up again.”

“What? Was it the mint? Are you alright?” Fred protested as you pushed him on his back out of the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind him.

You threw open the toilet seat and emptied what was left in your stomach. Flushing, you closed the lid and sat on it. You pulled your wand from your waistband and unlocked the door. Fred came in hesitantly, and when he saw you were fine, he lifted you off the toilet by the hand.

“Come on,” he said, guiding you out of the dorm.

“I don’t wanna go back to the party,” you mumbled, pulling his arm closer to you as you held onto it.

“You’ve been up there for ages, the party’s long over,” Fred assured, pulling you down the stairs.

Cups littered the ground, and abandoned streamers hung from the ceiling. A banner Dean Thomas had made hung lopsided on one side of the room.

Fred pulled you to the couch, bringing a blanket over you.

“Do you want anything?” he asked, and you laughed at his nurturing actions.

You were about to say no, but the rumbling of your stomach convinced you otherwise. You had emptied everything you had eaten, and you were hungry.

Fred snuck to the kitchens easily, making the same trek he made nearly every other night. He brought you back some sandwiches, but when he slipped through the portrait hole, he found you asleep on the couch.

Your breathing was even, and your mouth hung open a little. You curled into the couch, tucking your legs up to your chest.

He put the sandwiches on the table next to you and moved your body to the left. He curled up next to you, pulling the blanket over the both of you. He spooned you, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and your hand found his under the blanket.

For the first time, you felt at home in the Gryffindor common room.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

ABC the mandalorian?

A/N: I ended up doing the whole Alphabet, so, here we go!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He can’t keep his hands off you.  He just wants to keep you beside him, just feeling your skin against his.  He’ll only part with you if you ask.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For you, he loves your eyes.  He loves watching the tiny nueances of your expression, the way the corners crinkle when your happy or the way they roll back in pleasure as he makes love to you.  He can cum just by watching you.

For himself, he likes his hands.  He knows their big and can’t help but watch them as he runs them across your skin.  You seem to appreciate them to, which only add to his own pride.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Din is a mess when he comes.  He has basically no experience, so controlling where he cums can be a bit of a trick.  That all being said, his basic instinct is to cum inside you. Once your bodies are connected, he doesn’t want to leave, not for anything.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He jerked himself all to the thought of you, a lot when you first joined his crew.  He didn’t know what it was. Just having your around, brushing by him in such close quarters drove him crazy.  He eventually got a hold of himself, but that didn’t stop him from feeling incredibly guilt and embarrassed afterwards.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I’m saying it right now: DIN DJARIN IS A VIRGIN!

I am tired of seeing all these “spank me Daddy” Din headcanons all over the place.  The man has repeatedly said, he hasn’t taken off his helmet in front of anyone since he was a child, and considering how devout he is, my guess is that means the rest of his armor stays on too.  He hasn’t so much as received a peck on the cheek.  The first time you hold his bare hand, he nearly faints.

The man has no experience before doing it with you, and you bet your ass it’s only after he’s decided to take off his helmet around you.  No blindfolds or doing it in the dark.  All or nothing baby!

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary. He want to be able to look at you when he fucks you.  He wants to watch your face, and feel his body over yours, keeping you close and safe against him.  The only close second is to have you ride him.  He watches you in awe, taking your lead on how best to touch you as you rock against him. He just wants to see the pleasure take over your face when you cum.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It takes a while for him to lighten up in bed. At first he takes it very seriously, studying your body like he would a new weapon; finding the best ways to use it and himself to bring you both pleasure.  You’re the one who gets him out of his head, and shows him that sex could be for fun as well as intimacy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it pretty trim, more of his own comfort than anything, but not much in terms of man-scaping.  So long as it doesn’t bother you, it’s not really something he thinks about.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Din is the epitome of romance and intimacy during sex.  Every time you’re together, it’s like he’s trying to absorb you into his skin.  All the things he can’t put into words, he shows you in how he touches you.  It can be really intense, but he holds onto you, keeping your grounded as raw emotion floods your veins as surly as the pleasure.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Just because he’s a virgin, does not met he’s completely clueless.  He doesn’t do it often.  He frankly he has better ways of relieving stress, but there are times it’s the only cure.  Weirdly after you together, he does it more often.  Not to a ridiculous extent, but more like he has a solid image of someone to think about, and the specific stress of being away from that person can get to him sometimes.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He doesn’t have many.  I do think he leans more towards service top.  He’s not interested in controlling you.  But, he does want to know he’s the one giving you pleasure.  Honestly, just saying his name can be enough to get him to cum.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Razor Crest, hands down, preferably in his own bed.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

In a fun way? Honestly any time he watches you be really sweet with Grogu. Just seeing you hold him and try to make him laugh hit something deep inside him. After you put the kid to bed, he just wants to feel all of you at once and thinks what it would be like to give you a baby of your own.

In a not so fun way? Any close call you have.  The moment your out of danger, Din wants to just strip you down and fuck you senseless, just a reminder that you’re both still alive and that he can still take care of you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that would hurt you, or him for that matter.  Din Djarin is not your BDSM, “your daughter calls me Daddy too”, whatever Tumblr seems to be obsessed with. The idea of hurting you, even for pleasure just does not compute for him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

If you go down on him, the man will not last. He’s actually embarrassed the first few times.  All it takes is a few minutes of you swirling your tongue around his tip before he’s cumming down your throat. You’re a goddess with your mouth as far as he’s concerned.

He also loves going down on you.  It does take him time to get a proper technique, but eventually he gets it.  There has been more than one occasion he’s ripped of his helmet and dove between your legs, not bothering with the rest of his armor. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It varies.  Sometimes he wants to take his time and others it’s just about getting you off as fast as he can just so he can do it all over again.  But, no matter how fast you go, the emotion and intensity remain the same.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not really his thing.  It’s actually really hard to fuck you with his armor on and so would rather wait until he can take it all off.  That being said, it’s hard for him to say no to you going down on him for a quick one in the cock-pit.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s really cautious when it comes to sex.  He hasn’t had a lot of experience, and frankly nobody really talked to him about it.  He’s still exploring his sexuality with you, so the key is to be patient.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

So good.  He cums quickly the first few times you have sex, but his recovery time is amazing and once he gets better control of his body, he can keep you occupied for hours, making you cum until you just can’t take it anymore.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not really.  For him sex really is about being with you.  You might introduce some stuff later, but it’s a lot further down the line.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s really really bad at it.  Like he cannot tease to save his life.  He might nip at the inside of your thigh before finally touching your clit, but that’s the extent. He just wants to make you cum.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not very.  He’s not much of a talker, and that’s no different in bed.  Lots of soft grunt and curses mixed with moans and the occasional pet name.  Otherwise, he’s main just listening to you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Demisexual Din? Demisexual Din.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Slightly larger than average, but he doesn’t know it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not especially high before he meets you.  But once you’re together it does go up.  It’s nothing he can’t handle, but he doesn’t get noticeably more grumpy if he hasn’t been around you in a while and once he does see you again, you guys can go for hours.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He takes him a bit to come down after you’re done.  Honestly, he won’t let himself fall asleep until he knows you’re comfortable already dozing off in his arms.