#wasn’t entirely sure how to draw that at first though so I had to pull up pictures of Alexandrite from Steven Universe for reference lmao

[sweetandglovelyart]

I’ve been seeing a lot of really cool Kirby gijinka designs so I thought I would try my hand at making some of my own. Here’s my take on gijinkas of Taranza and Susie.

[cringe--is--dead]

𝐵𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝒟𝒶𝓎

Various WBK boys x AFAB!reader (incl. Kiryuu, Kaji, Umemiya, Nirei, Sakura, Hiragi, Choji)

CW: cat-calling and objectification (none by the WBK boys), threats of violence (obvious)

𝑀𝓎 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝓈…

༺═────────────═༻

…𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒻𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉

𝒦𝒾𝓇𝓎𝓊𝓊 𝑀𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓊𝓀𝒾

Your suits were matching— the same shade of blue, your bikini top accompanied by a little, pink blow between your breasts. Your boyfriend had taken you out shopping before the group summer trip, pulling out his wallet to buy several matching outfits before you could protest. You’d learned rather quickly that protesting was useless.

You were accustomed to some stares— Sakura turned a shade of red only he could turn when you took off your bathing suit cover, and Suo had teased the poor kid relentlessly. Some other stares, Kiryuu was realizing, you were oblivious to. The Furin boys were respectful, teenage boys, sure, but respectful.

The random teenagers and men staring at your body, not so much. Kiryuu, however, wasn’t the least bit worried.

“Darling,” You looked up questioningly at your boyfriend, pausing where you were rubbing sunscreen onto your arms, “Let me get your back.”

You smiled at him, and despite how long you two had been together felt your own cheeks warm slightly. You finished your arms, turning to lay on your front on your towel. He was gentle, warming up the sunscreen before applying it to your back, all but massaging it into your skin.

“How did I get so lucky?” His voice was teasing, fingertips dancing under the bikini string.

“Mitsuki,” You scolded, and he laughed.

Relaxing in your towel, you didn’t see that Kiryuu’s gaze wasn’t on you. One of the groups near you were growing rowdy, one of them louder than the rest. He had heard their conversation, lewd remarks about your body. He was quick to move, staking his claim subtly as he massaged the sunscreen onto your back.

The one that had moved, most likely to ask for your number or give you a stupid pick up line, had made the mistake of making eye contact with Kiryuu. He wasn’t Suo, but he knew he was intimidating.

One palm was flat against your lower back, dancing dangerously close to being too low. You hummed quietly, unaware of the silent stare down happening behind you. Kiryuu raised an eyebrow, waiting for the stranger to make his decision.

He seemed to think, before breaking eye contact, face curling into a scowl, before he turned back to his group.

“Mitsuki?” He was quick to smile, the soft look he reserved just for you returned, “Can we go in the water now?”

“Whatever you want, darling.”

𝒦𝒶𝒿𝒾 𝑅𝑒𝓃

Kaji was starting to wish he had brought a whole pack of suckers, and based on the worried side eyes that were sent his way, he wasn’t alone on this. The only person who seemed oblivious to this, or just entirely too trusting, was you.

You, who was wearing one of the newest bikini sets you ordered from over states. You, who was hitting around an inflatable ball with some of his first years, laughing in the waves. You, who was drawing attention from way too many random guys around, loitering on their beach towels or wading in the water far too close.

He felt the familiar crunch of his current sucker, he was so zoned staring— glaring— that he didn’t realize until now it was a grape flavored one.

Gross.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, turning slightly to see Kusumi holding his screen towards him. It took a few seconds to see through the glare of the sun, but he finally saw the message.

you okay?

He could nod, could lie and say he’s fine— but this was Kusumi, bastard reads him almost as well as Hiragi. So instead he shrugged, rolling the candy stick in his mouth, already itching to grab another one.

His music was low, loud enough that the random chit chat didn’t make its way to him, but low enough that he could hear you or the others if he focused enough.

He was up on his feet in a flash, though, watching as a random volleyball splashed the water near you, far too close to have been a coincidence. Some random guy was waving, smile too big as he made his way over. He was all teeth, all but leering over you as you handed him his ball. You were being polite, but you were clearly trying to get him to leave.

Kusumi shot him a worried look, one that read somewhere between don’t make a scene and we’ll back you up if need be. In all honesty he was between those too.

But this was a trip, something fun for everyone, and if he swung first and started a beach brawl then the day would end early. So he instead made his way to the waters edge, the cool waves lapping at his feet as he watched.

You were trying to get back to whatever game you, Nirei and Kiryuu had been playing, and the man wasn’t taking the hint. Taking his headphones off, the loudness of the wind and waves crashed over him for a moment, before he regained his focus.

“Hey,” His voice was sharp, cutting through the one sided conversation easily.

You both turned, your face lighting up when you saw him, sweet voice calling out his name in excitement. You made your way out of the water towards him, and he briefly made eye contact with the two first years, sending a curt nod their way. They understood, backing off to their other friends.

“Can we go get ice cream?” You wrapped your arms around his bicep, pressing close to him.

In any other circumstance he’d have been rather flustered, you were pressed so close, he could feel the softness of your breasts, but he could also feel how fast your heart was hammering. He didn’t look down, eyes maintaining where they were staring down the unnamed man.

“Sure.”

The guy scoffed, arms crossing as if he were unimpressed by the display before him. Kaji cocked a brow, “Something the matter?”

He put his hands up, mock surrender, “No, nothing.” His tone was amused, as if goading Kaji to start something.

His fists were clenched at his side, jaw uncomfortably tense, and if the sucker had lasted any longer it definitely would have shattered.

The man seemed to grow uncomfortable, “Look dude, we were just chatting, alright? Nothing wrong with that.”

He just hummed in response, the noise low and unamused. You squeezed his arm gently, voice low, “Ren, it’s okay, I’m fine,” It took a second for him to look away, but when he glanced down at you, you smiled, small but genuine.

He stared for a moment, before sighing, “Yeah, whatever.”

You stepped away, gently tugging at his arm to follow you, and he moved, allowing you to maneuver him however you wanted. He didn’t spare another glance behind him, knowing full well that coward was going to go back to his group, spouting nonsense he could have easily knocked out of him.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, and as the rage died down in him, he felt the tips of his ears warm up, no doubt red now, “What?”

“Nothing,” You laughed quietly, “Just thankful I have my knight in shinning armor.”

He tisked, feigning annoyance at your statement. He’d never call himself a knight, that seemed too noble, too good.

“I’d kick his ass if he kept talking…”

You laughed louder this time, “I know. But I didn’t wanna let an asshole like that ruin our day.”

Not him, not Kaji ruin it by throwing a punch. He felt a bit of tension bleed out of him, your words simple but holding so much weight. The little ice cream parlor was near, and with you leaning against him, comfortable knowing that he’d protect you from unwanted advances, he felt more confident in his actions.

You trusted him to take care of not only himself, but you as well. To protect you should it come to that. And if you let him, gave him a sign, he’d beat anyone who even looked at you funny.

“Oh— should we get ice cream for the others?”

“Not unless they’re paying.”

𝒰𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓎𝒶 𝐻𝒶𝒿𝒾𝓂𝑒

The beach weekend getaway had been in the works for months at this rate, and Umemiya was rather proud of himself for how well it had gone so far. The beach wasn't too far from town, wasn't too crowded or boring, the weather was perfect.

Later in the evening, he, you, and a few others had ventured out, having found an arcade nearby, colorful neon lights pulling them all in. Everyone had grown rather excited, running around with coins and tickets, little prizes in hands.

He had won you a few trinkets, proudly handing you the stuffed animals, watching with delight as you held them delicately, naming them each, one by one.

Umemiya had offered to go get you a drink, watching from the counter as you moved over to skeeball, bringing Sakura with you as you attempted to teach him how to play. Though it looked more like you were working on preventing him from climbing the machine and just throwing the balls in at this rate.

“C’mon man, just wait for her to walk off.”

The conversation happening to his right caught his attention, they were loud, demanding of observation. He glanced them over, men near his age if not a bit older, laughing and talking. He brushed them off, gaze turning back to where you were laughing, Sakura’s face bright red as the ball rolled back down the slope.

“Wearing shorts like that, she’s asking for attention.”

His thoughts paused, processing what was said. One quick glance made him painfully aware that those men were staring in your direction.

“At this rate I say we just go over, that pipsqueak does look like he’d be able to do much.”

He set your drink down on the counter, not wanting to spill the liquid and make some poor worker clean up his mess. Walking over, he set a smile on his face, taught and forced. Leaning between the two of them, he wrapped his arms around their shoulders, “Yeah, she looks pretty great doesn’t she?”

The men jumped, clearly unaware that they had garnered an audience.

“What the hell man?”

He grinned, grip tightening slightly, “I got really lucky honestly, someone as beautiful as her being my girlfriend.”

One of the guys seemed to understand what was happening, face dropping, “Hey man— we were just joking.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, “So you don’t think my girlfriend’s beautiful?”

The guy laughed nervously, glancing towards his buddy, who seemed to be opting to stay silent, “Look man, no need to get worked up, okay?”

He smiled, eyes narrowing as he forced a laugh, “Oh don’t worry, I’m not worked up,” He pulled the two closer, “But I would advise you to leave, and keep your mouths shut as you go, yeah?”

Sakura was adding coin after coin, determined to get more points each time, and you wondered if you maybe created a monster, watching as he rolled the ball with too much force.

A loud slam from near the front of the arcade startled you, and you jumped, curiosity making you turn to look, but as you did you bumped into a chest, looking up to see Umemeiya, smiling down at you.

“Got you your drink!” You smiled back, thanking him for the soda, Sakura too caught up in his own competition to notice the new comer.

“What took you so long?” You looked towards the counter, “Oh! What happened?”

There was a wet floor sign, a small pile of damp paper towels on the counter and floor. Ume smiled at you, “Just some guys got startled by something and spilled their drinks. I was helping the worker clean up, and the two ran off.”

That must have been the loud noise, no doubt they were about to get into some type of trouble for their mishap and fled. You nodded, leaning back into his chest, happily sipping your drink.

༺═────────────═༻

…𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼’𝓂 𝓈𝒸���𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝑒𝓇

𝒩𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒾 𝒜𝓀𝒾𝒽𝒾𝓀𝑜

Nirei made sure to pack a bathing suit cover-up for you. He didn't entirely think you needed one, but in case it got breezy or you got sleepy he wanted to make sure he had one handy.

He didn’t have the heart to say he brought it, also, in case someone made you uncomfortable. He trusted his friends and his classmates, but he also knew how strangers could act.

Especially towards a pretty girl at the beach!

He doubts that if a random passer-byer started hitting on you his pill bug technique would come in handy, and he can’t justify allowing any of his classmates throw punches on behalf of his girlfriend.

Well, unless you asked or needed of course. He’d do anything in his realm of possibilities if you asked, and even a few out of it.

“Hiko?” He turned, almost jumping as you drew him from his own thoughts, a gentle smile on your face.

You held out a bottle of water to him, “Umemiya’s handing them out, says to stay hydrated.”

He took it happily, feeling content as you moved to sit next to him, sipping your own water, body relaxed.

“Oh! Kiryuu brought some kites,” He loved watching your eyes light up when you got excited, and he felt himself turn warm, both in his cheeks and his chest, “I thought we could snag one and go fly it later?”

He nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah! The wind seems perfect for that.”

You grinned, agreeing, turning the conversation to chat about other things. As the two of you talked, watching your friends run around and swim, and he took out of his notebooks, jotting down notes and doodles as he observed his classmates.

You glanced over occasionally, curious as to what he was deeming important enough to write in this moment, but kept talking.

“Hey!”

The two of you kept talking, unaware that the yelling being directed at you before, “Hey!”

You jumped, a light dust of sand hitting your legs, both of you looking up to see another random group, a guy and two girls standing near you all. You raised an eyebrow, and Nirei swallowed nervously.

“Can we help you?”

The guy grinned, though it looked more like a leer, while the girls seemed to roll their eyes, hanging behind him, “I was just wondering if you wanted to join us, cutie. Have a fun time instead of sitting here like a loser.”

You felt annoyance flare up in your chest, face dropping as you rolled your eyes, “No.”

The guy laughed, clearly caught off by your response, “C’mon, I promise you I can show you a better time.”

“And I said no, now please, go away.”

His grin faded, looking more annoyed than he had before, though he seemed like he wanted to play it off, “Look, I’m being nice here, there’s no need to be a bitch.”

Nirei glared at him, hot anger licking at his chest, ready to stand up and yell at him, defend you against this asshole.

“You haven’t seen me be a bitch yet,” You replied, sounding bored of the conversation, relaxing back, leaning on your palms, “Like I said. Leave.”

The girls looked torn between laughing at the man’s plight and sneering down at you, and the guy’s face was turning red.

He clicked his tongue, “You can stay here then, enjoying your time with your loser boyfriend. But remember—”

He was cut off, you standing up like a flash, fist flying towards the guys nose, a satisfying crack sounding as he reared back, shouting in pain.

Your punch wasn’t enough to break his nose, and Nirei hated that he was disappointed by that, but there was a steady, thin stream of blood trickling from one nostril.

“What the fuck?”

“I was being nice before,” You snapped, “Now I’m telling you to fuck off.”

The guy sneered at you, though it looked rather pathetic as he cupped his nose, swears and curses falling from his lips, tripping over the sand and his own feet as he walked back to where ever he wandered from, the two girls sending you a shocked look before going after him.

You sat back down, rubbing your knuckles and smiling at Nirei sweetly, as if you hadn’t just punched someone in the face.

“Do you wanna go see about the kite now?”

𝒮𝒶𝓀𝓊𝓇𝒶 𝐻𝒶𝓇𝓊𝓀𝒶

Your boyfriend had yet to look at you for more than two seconds. At this rate, it was rather adorable how his face burned red, eyes flittering everywhere but you. You knew your bathing suit would illicit this reaction, one reason you had told him you'd rather meet up at the beach than walk with him and his friends.

Suo had teased your blushing boyfriend a bit before bidding you both a gentle wave, and wandering off with Nirei, leaving the two of you under an umbrella on the sand.

You were applying sunscreen to your arms, debating whether or not you should forcefully apply some to your boyfriend, knowing full well that he didn’t apply nearly enough, or teasing him.

You studied his profile for a moment, the blush hadn’t died down yet. Though, that could be because of the sun, you mused. He seemed to notice your staring, however, and the red intensified.

Ah, still blushing. Cute.

“Haruka,” Your voice was light, singing his name softly, and he tensed, sending you a quick side eye, “You should apply more sunscreen.”

“Huh? I already applied some!” He grew defensive, turning to glare at the bottle in your hand.

You sighed, though a small smile grew on your face, “Not nearly enough.”

“You saying I’m weak?”

You blinked at him, trying to reel in a laugh, lest he think you’re laughing at him, “Love,” He stammered at the pet name, “No one’s tougher than the sun. Or UV rays. Put more on.”

You squeezed some more into your palm, before handing the bottle over to him. You moved, applying more to your arms, as he stared at the bottle, looking between it and you.

“Now.”

He swore quietly, but uncapped the bottle, applying it with the same ferocity as a grumpy toddler. The comparison made you giggle, and you moved to apply the leftover sunscreen on your legs.

He paused in his actions, unbeknownst to you, watching you with intense rapt. You were humming quietly to yourself, some kitschy pop song. He glanced over you, noticing one guy having turned, staring at your legs, unblinking.

He felt himself grow rather… angry? Frustrated, maybe. Why was that guy staring? His silence and stillness drew your attention, and you looked at him, trying to follow his gaze. You made eye contact with the stranger, and he winked, shamelessly.

Rolling your eyes, your lips curled into a disgusted sneer, “Pervert.”

“I’ll kick his ass.”

You hummed again, amused at your boyfriend’s automatic protective nature, “No, you won’t.”

“Wha,” He turned to look at you, incredulously, “He’s— he’s just staring at you! And he winked at you!”

“And I have absolutely no interest in him, or his stupid wink,” You mimicked the way came out of his mouth like it was a swear.

“It’s cause of your bathing suit!”

You blinked at him, voice dropping rather dangerously, “Pardon?”

He seemed to realize he said something wrong, though you doubt he knew exactly what it was he said that was wrong. You couldn’t blame him entirely, his knowledge of relationships was still very limited, and you knew this.

“I just—” He stammered, mouth fluttering open and shut, trying to find what to say, “You look— and he’s staring because— it’s,” He motioned to your body, and you raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to come to his own conclusion, “You look too good!”

You couldn’t cover the snort that escaped, trying not to laugh at your boyfriend’s worries. He glared at you, offended by the noise.

“They can stare all they want because I,” You took his hand into yours, enjoying how his frustration faded at the drop of a hat, face immediately reddening once more, “Am at the beach with my adorable boyfriend. Besides, if he tries anything I don’t need you to kick his ass for me, I can do that myself.”

Face still red, he turned away, facing the waves, voice a bit quieter as he spoke, “You’re not a fighter.”

“I don’t have to be a fighter to crack a bottle of ramune over his head,” To prove your point you reached over him, hiding your amusement as he yelped, grabbing a bottle and working it open, “Not many people can bounce back from that.”

You took a sip, maintaining eye contact with Sakura, his cheeks still red, but his eyes widened. It was silent between you two for a moment before—

“Jesus, okay. You can defend yourself.” You smiled, shifting to cuddle closer to him, allowing him a moment to gather his bearings as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders in response, muttering something that vaguely sounded like scary under his breath.

༺═────────────═༻

…𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝒶 𝒽𝑜𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒹𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔

𝐻𝒾𝓇𝒶𝑔𝒾 𝒯𝑜𝓂𝒶

There were times when Hiragi wondered if you were an angel sent to him, or another demon sent his way. This was one of the times where he thought that you may be a demon, though you were as pretty as an angel. He wishes he had packed more of his gaskun10.

"Hiragi," Your voice was light as you called out to him, a small pout on your lips as you held your hand out, "You promised me a board-walk trip."

Despite the previous feeling, he smiled, standing up and brushing sand off of his shorts, wandering your way, "I did, didn't I?"

You grinned up at him, squeezing his hand once he placed it in yours, all but leading him away from the group, prattling on about the different pop-up shops that had appeared this summer you wanted to check out.

Your excitement had you distracted, torn between talking to Hiragi and looking at your shirtless boyfriend, admiring him in the summer light. He understood, not teasing you on your staring for once, listening with half an ear as he, too, was distracted by your beach outfit. You had gone out shopping with Kotoha and Tsubaki, and elected on surprising you with your pick.

He wasn't, however, too distracted to note the looks being sent your way. You were a pretty girl; beautiful, perfect, in his eyes, and he knew he wasn't the only one who shared this sentiment. Several guys were staring as you two walked, eyes trailing up from top to bottom, before flickering over to him. He was glad none were stupid enough to step forward, he'd rather not cause a scene at the beach.

There were also, surprising to him, a few girls staring, well he should say glaring your way. He could see the judgment stemming off of them from miles away, looking between the both of you with disdain. It made him click his tongue, annoyed with the vastly different responses being sent your way.

You sensed the small shift in his mood, eyebrows furrowing as you paused your rambling to study him, "Everything okay?"

He looked down at you, "You just look stunning."

Giggling, you turned your attention forward once more, "I'm well aware of that."

His eye roll was nothing short of affectionate, no snark or annoyance in his expression as you two continued walking.

“You’re also ridiculous,” He added, and you threw your head back and laughed.

“That I am also well aware of,” You grinned, and he was once again reminded of the demon analogy, “But you love me.”

He sighed, “I do,” Probably too much to be healthy, but that was neither here nor there.

In all honesty, he was rather used to onlookers, well, looking. You were always loud in your own way, drawing attention and awe where ever you went. It was one reason you and Tsubakino got along as well as you did.

It didn’t help the level of stress he felt, wanting nothing more than to shield your body or fight those looking at you, but he knew you wouldn’t want that. Unless absolutely necessary, but more often than not his presence kept those situations away.

“Come on,” You stood on your tip toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “Let’s go get some snacks!”

𝒞𝒽𝑜𝒿𝒾 𝒯𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓎𝒶𝓂𝒶

"Hey! Hey! You put sunscreen on right? Kame-chan kept bugging me about it so I thought to make sure you put some on!"

You blinked your eyes open, peering up at your boyfriend, hair soaked and plastered against his head from where he had been all but running through the waves. Smiling, you sat up, moving your sunglasses on top of your head.

"Yes Choji, I've got sunscreen on," You saw Togame floating in the water a few yards away, relaxing in the waves, "I'm glad Togame made sure you re-applied yours."

He pouted at your words, "He got sand stuck on my face because of it."

His childlike annoyance had you laughing, and he brightened at the sound, moving to grab your hand, working to drag you up onto your feet.

"C'mon! Let's get in the water!"

You allowed yourself to be pulled up, his energy contagious, "You were just in the water," Your argument held no real bite, letting your overzealous boyfriend drag you to the waves.

"But not with you!"

Your feet hit the water, and you shrieked at the sudden coldness lapping against you. He laughed at your response, turning to run full speed towards Togame, splashing his relaxing friend with a face full of water.

You rolled your eyes, slowly going further into the water, getting used to the coolness against your skin. Choji swam around you and Togame, going back and forth between splashing you lightly and seeming like he was trying to drown his friend. Togame was fighting back, laughing while dunking your boyfriend under the water.

There were some fish swimming around, little things flitting between the people, and you watched, relaxing in the water as Choji swam after them. Togame wadded over, and the two of you started talking, light conversation as Choji swam a bit away, closer to another group that was hanging out nearby.

The fish had all gotten away, and he decided to float for a bit, facing the sun with a relaxed smile on his face. That was until he heard the conversation from the people near.

"Seriously, I'd never let my girl in public like that. She should be covered up."

"Doesn't she know all she's gonna do is draw attention to herself?"

There was some mumbling, a few choice words being passed around, and the once relaxing float was less so now. He moved, eyes narrowing at the group, ready to open his mouth or throw a fist, when he heard you calling his name, you and Kame waving him back over.

He debated for a moment, what would be more important, before deciding that these guys were just idiots. And you all were having such a good time, he could fight them later. So he swam back over, launching himself at you once he was close enough. You caught him, as you always did.

He began peppering your face with kisses, ignoring the joking eye-roll Kame sent their way.

"You look amazing, you know this right?"

You giggled at his antics, pushing his face away softly, "Yes, you've told me a hundred times in the past few hours."

He huffed, "You're the prettiest girl at this beach! In this whole town! You always look so amazing!"

His fluttering kisses tickled lightly, and you were giggling uncontrollably, trying to stop him like you would an over excited puppy. He finally moved back, still floating close to you, smiling wide.

“What was that about?”

His head tilted, looking like a confused puppy to you, when in reality he was debating whether or not to tell you what he overheard.

If you were upset or hurt or offended he’d turn around in a heart beat, fists at the ready. He’d finish them all off quickly, wash their blood from his fists in the water, the salt may sting, but it’d be worth it.

But he thought on it, something Ume-chan told him he should practice, and came to the conclusion that you’d more than likely roll your eyes and laugh. You often did whenever snide comments made their way to you, even way before you two were dating.

You dressed how you liked, and no one’s comments seemed to affect you. You were happy with your outfits, and often said, “That’s all that matters,” with that sweet smile of yours.

So he just smiled, eyes closing as he grinned, “I just love you!”

A/N: I am not a fan! Of how I wrote some of these! >.< So sorry! I have never written for some of these characters and I worry it shows! ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ALSO I CUT SOME CHARACTERS OUT! I RAN OUT OF IDEAS AND DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO WRITE SOME OF THEM! I’M SO SORRY!

[catslvrr]

you know all my dreams (you were one)

danielle marsh x fem!reader | one shot

Synopsis: Being a superhero involves a lot of saving, like saving people from burning buildings, saving cats stuck in trees, and even saving yourself from being evicted from your apartment. There’s one thing that you haven’t saved yet, and that’s your relationship with Danielle.

Contains: cursing, blood, violence, death, cliche hero stuff

You would like to believe that you are a good roommate.

But when you come tumbling through the window, landing with a raucous thud, all you have the strength to do is squeeze your eyes shut and pray to the heavens that your roommate graciously ignores you. Again.

This is the fourth time in a week that you have managed to enter your room in such a manner. You rely on the fact that your roommate is abnormally nocturnal and is most likely asleep by now.

You grimace as you remember that one time you accidentally crashed through her window, blacked out, and woke up to her grim face as she poked you with her foot. It wasn’t that far off from how she originally found out you were Spider-Woman two years ago.

It had been a rough day. You didn’t leave exactly scot-free after fending off the attempted escape of some maximum security prisoners at the Raft. 

This attempt may have been catalyzed by the recent blackout that you may have caused by fighting off another escape attempt, but who’s to say that’s the case?

Regardless, all escapees were given a scenic swing, free of charge, straight back to prison—a temporary one anyway. Now all you had to worry about was making it home in one piece.

By the time you reach home, the muscles in your arms giving in from the endless web-slinging, you don’t have enough energy in you to ease your landing (which really just meant trying to land on cool superhero poses). You swoop right onto the floor, face-down and limbs sprawled out like a measly bug helplessly trapped in a web.

You’re not entirely sure of the full extent of your injuries in the moment—mostly because of the way your whole body is burning, reminiscent of the building you were thrown into, but you’re pretty confident you have at least multiple bruised ribs, a black eye, and a mild concussion. 

“So, all things considered,” you say half-heartedly to no one in particular. “Not too bad.”

(Future note: You actually also had one fractured toe.)

You’re happily drifting off into unconsciousness, with nothing but the belated, slightly panicked thought of whether you locked your door or not, when three sudden strikes at your door jolt you awake.

Suppressing a groan, you roll over and pull yourself up as best as possible, ignoring the way your ribs scream at you. God, you were in so much pain. You let out a breathy exhale and even muster a crooked smile, even though you know your roommate can’t see you.

“Roomie! What’s up?”

A pause. 

You cringe. Seriously, ‘Roomie’? You should’ve gone with the name you saw on the leasing contract.

(When you first saw it, you thought that the lease was some sort of scam, because your roommate’s signature looked like someone trying to draw Australia from memory. Upon further questioning of the landlord, you were left with the information that your new roommate, Haerin, was indeed real.)

Before you can even apologize for your lame attempt at a greeting, Haerin’s response comes curtly.

“There was a crash.”

You pick up on a slight inflection of curiosity in Haerin’s tone—is glad that despite her nosiness, she didn’t decide to barge in and see you in your full Spider-suit glory. You force out a chuckle, hoping your roommate doesn’t notice the strain.

“Oh—right. I just fell. Tripped over my own feet. I mean, while dancing. Well. Trying to, you know?” 

Your embarrassment grows with every word that bumbles out of your mouth, and when the heat in your cheeks is too much to bear, you manage out a simple:

“Yep,” to eloquently finish it all off. You cross your fingers and hope your roommate doesn’t question the fact that there is no music playing at all.

You barely hear a non-committal hum over the pounding in your ears, and only release your breath when you hear the familiar obnoxious typing of keys, finding your heartbeat in tandem with its rhythm.

There are some things you can always depend on, and one of those things is Haerin’s perpetual typing as she attempts to finish her journalism assignments at the last minute. The incessant clicking of the keyboard gradually becomes soothing, almost therapeutic. You pass out before you can even register any sliver of drowsiness.

And then you wake up to a deafening bang and splinters of your doors ricocheting toward you. 

Reflexively, you flick your wrist, effectively webbing any stray pieces of your door to the ceiling. But you also web your roommate’s face. There are a few seconds of silence as you both just stare at each other.

“Funny how you find me in my Spider-Woman cosplay,” you chuckle awkwardly. “Because I’m not, you know, Spider-Woman.”

Haerin slowly peels the web off her face, face wholly impassive, still menacingly holding the ax. “I’m hungry. Buy me Wingstop.”

It takes you an hour to get the Wingstop back home. Ten minutes was dedicated to a mini meet-and-greet.

“What the fuck, Haerin,” you say with a mouth full of lemon pepper fries. “You broke my door down with an ax.”

“I was hungry,” she replies matter-of-factly, as if that’s a reasonable justification for the insane property damage she just inflicted. “But you were also not responding for sixteen hours.”

“I was out for sixteen hours?”

“A bit of an exaggeration. Maybe around 10.”

“Why do you even have an ax anyway?”

“Look at where we live,” Haerin clicks her tongue. “And you being Spider-Woman just slaps a big target on our backs.”

“Pause,” you raise your hand and stop chewing. “I’m not Spider-Woman. I’m just… a huge fan.”

Haerin’s exasperated eyes flicker to yours.

“I’m serious!”

“Yeah right,” she scoffs. “You make way too many spider puns.”

“Like what?”

“Like ‘I’ll swing by’, or ‘I’m kinda tangled up in something right now’,” she explains with air quotes.

You noisily take a sip of a lemonade you bought from a random stall. “Huh.”

“So,” you chew thoughtfully. “Hypothetically, if I was Spider-Woman, how would you react? Would you tell anyone?”

Haerin scans you, still wearing the Spider-suit, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, ungracefully shoving chicken tenders in your mouth with ranch dribbling down your chin. “I’ve known for, like, three months.”

You almost knock the ranch cup over in shock. “What?”

You swallow the chicken tender too quickly, and have to take a breather because you almost choke on it. “How—I mean, why would you think that?”

“You discarded one of your broken web-shooters in my room.”

“Oh. That’s where it went,” you scratch your cheek. “So… you won’t tell anyone, right?”

Haerin smiles. “Only if you pay for the door.”

You hear the screeching of a chair against the floor, hear the imposing footsteps headed toward your room. You feel something poke you. It’s probably the handle of that stupid ax she’s so attached to.

“You good?”

You respond with an unintelligible noise.

Another poke. “Rent’s due soon, you know.”

You roll over with a groan and pull off your mask. “Spare me some sympathy, I’m dying.”

“No you’re not. You’ve had worse.”

Haerin squats down to your level and dabs a cut on your forehead, leaving a burning sting. “Ow!”

You stay mum as Haerin wipes your face free of grime and blood. It’s rare, but when Haerin patches you up, there’s a tinge of gratefulness that twists your heart, and you know it’s better to leave it unspoken. That’s just how you two are.

You break the silence after a while. “I really need to find a job, don’t I?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Haerin replies. “I think you should start your own business: Spider-Eats.”

“Like… Uber Eats?”

“Exactly,” Haerin nods proudly. “But you don’t need to pay for gas, because you just swing over. And I’m sure people will tip you because you’re Spider-Woman.”

“Huh. That’s actually a really good idea.”

As you shuffle out of your Spider-suit and wince at the way your bloody clothes stick to yourself, you make a mental note to start designing and coding a Spider-Eats app. And to also do laundry again. You languidly stretch your limbs, trying to ignore the aches and pains.

“Thanks, doc,” you grin at Haerin. “I feel better already.”

Haerin nods and walks out to the living room. You hear some faint rustling, and the smell reaches you first: pepperoni pizza. You can practically hear an orchestra of trumpets and horns and trombones sing as Haerin re-enters your room, like an angel from heaven, holding three boxes of pizza. It’s even from the same parlor joint the two of you always loiter around.

“Wait,” you pull a can of grape Fanta out of her hand and toward you with a web. “I’ve always wanted to try something.”

Haerin watches as you dangle from the ceiling upside-down and crack open the can. You bring it to your mouth and attempt to drink it, only for you to choke and spill it on your floor.

“Oops.”

After that sad display, you both find yourselves in a familiar position: sitting cross-legged on the floor across from each other, absolutely devouring the food you’ve chosen to be a victim to your outrageous appetite. It comes with being a superhero.

“Seriously, Haerin,” you sigh in satisfaction. “I love you so much.”

You and Haerin mostly eat in silence and scroll on your phones until all three boxes are demolished. You pack up all the boxes and push them to the side, flopping into a starfish position and feeling bloated already.

“You know,” Haerin starts, her voice surprisingly sincere. “Tomorrow’s the day.”

You slowly exhale. “Yeah.”

She flops down beside you. The two of you stare at the LED strips (set to red and blue) that you both went to hell and back trying to tape on the edges of the ceiling.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

You offer a small smile. “Nah. You know how it is.”

The two of you lie there for a while until you both fall asleep.

Unfortunately, being a superhero is not all glitz and glamor. You find yourself to be quite the average Joe, living an ordinary life. At the end of the day, you’re just an engineering college student with no job. Well, besides the occasional side gig of being a masked vigilante.

You tend to relish the mundane moments these days, and maybe it’s the age. (Haerin would roll her eyes if she heard you say this.) Those fleeting moments where you can bask in the serenity of a night without any pings from the local police database you hacked into, although often only lasting several minutes, are valuable to you. Sitting on rooftops and indulging in the view that is the city skyline at night—you never get sick of it.

You used to hate this—being human, that is. After the bite all those years ago, being Spider-Woman was riveting. The novelty of your superpowers made you feel competent. Made you feel like someone. (Only after you persevered through the beginner's clumsiness.) Of course, there are the not so great parts of still being human. Like attending mandatory labs, dealing with group project partners who go M.I.A., and the exorbitant rental rates. Regardless, you believe the good still outweighs the bad.

But like most good things in your life, they never stay. How foolish of you, to think that your newfound powers could somehow transcend the inevitability of pain and loss. If anything, you face it more now. 

That youthful naivety led to more trouble than you can handle. That night when you swung past that robbery at the bodega, without a care in the world, unwittingly sealing the fate of your aunt. Any last connection you had to your family was violently torn from your grasp.

It was your fault. And nothing can change that. It haunts you every waking hour of the day, manifests itself as a wicked virus, and its suffocating tendrils latch onto you on the nights when you’ve delved too deep into your own thoughts.

You try to block it out now, but the best you can do is repeat to yourself that it’s a reminder. A reminder of who Spider-Woman has to be and what she means to the city. An unwavering hero who stands for justice and protects everyone. A hero who does the right thing.

You hum to yourself as you push the door open with your shoulder, exiting the shop with a bouquet of pale purple forget-me-nots. You shove your hands into the front pocket of your hoodie after adjusting your backpack, slightly shivering at the crisp chill of the early morning.

You greet the local store owners as you pass by, even giving a hand in moving crates or supplies to help set up shop. It would be so much easier to just swing to the cemetery, but there’s a sense of reverence you feel you need to uphold, and the only way to do that is just to visit as yourself. No mask, no secret identity. Just you.

You’ve just crossed the threshold to the cemetery with one step when there’s a prickling sensation on your skin. As you get closer to her grave, the discomfort only grows, and so you swing to the nearest tree and perch yourself there.

And then you see her. In the flesh.

“Danielle?” You whisper to yourself, dumbfounded. What was she doing back here, after all these years?

Danielle stills for a moment, and so do you. She turns around and eyes the surroundings as if she heard your voice. You duck and burrow yourself deeper within the leaves.

You observe her quietly, donning her own bouquet of roses, and you smile wryly at the sight of them. Of course, she remembers her favorite flowers. Danielle sits at the grave for a while, her lips moving as if talking, but the music blasting in your headphones blocks it out. You don’t try to eavesdrop.

She’s dyed her hair blonde now, and you didn’t think it possible, but she stands out even more. The color suits her—it matches her personality, akin to a warm and inviting sunflower. Seeing her treat the grave with such care and tenderness makes your heart pang. You grip the tree branches tighter to try to steel yourself, swallowing the guilt and heartache that arises. You don’t expect anything less from her. She’s still so kind and loving even after what you did.

She takes out a small pouch, eventually settling down and crocheting. You’re surprised for some reason, but you also make yourself comfortable in the tree. Even though you’re a hundred feet apart, being in the same vicinity of her fills your body with a sense of repose. You allow yourself to believe that you’re sitting next to each other, still friends, grieving together, and you think that helps you heal a bit.

Half an hour passes before you feel a droplet hit your face. And then another. You and Danielle look up at the same time, only to see the billowing clouds roll in.

Without a second thought, you slip your mask on and shimmy out of your clothes, fishing an umbrella out of your backpack before webbing it to the tree. You clear your throat as you land behind her, as gently as possible so as to not scare her.

“Need this, Miss?” You forcefully deepen your voice, holding out the umbrella above Danielle’s head.

She turns around, lips slightly parted in shock, and it takes all your willpower to not visibly tremble.

“Thank you,” she smiles sweetly. You wonder if she would greet you like this if she knew who you really were. “Let me give you something in return.”

Danielle hands you a crochet ribbed beanie, a bright red just like the roses she brought, with a white pom pom on top.

“This one took me a few days.”

It’s incredibly endearing, but you’re panicking at her presence so you can only express your gratitude with an awkward, “Thanks!”, voice crack included, before slinging to the nearest building. 

You make sure to wear it on the way home.

Haerin notices it as soon as you return.

“What’s with the new look?” She asks, not looking away from her laptop.

You set an iced Americano for her on the coffee table, and then proceed to drape yourself on the sofa, feet nudging Haerin’s side to annoy her. She chooses to ignore you rather than resort to violence only because you bought her coffee. She also chooses to ignore how your suit is still wet from the rain outside, droplets of water permeating the sofa. You take off the beanie, making sure to gently lay it on the table before slipping your mask off.

You rest your head against the arm of the sofa and close your eyes, but all you can think about is Danielle. The sincerity in her eyes as she gifted you the beanie and her saccharine voice rings out in your mind. You lay there and reminisce in silence for a while. You end up falling asleep for a few minutes.

Then Haerin wakes you up.

“Hey.” She slaps your foot. “Answer my question.”

“What—oh.” You mumble in confusion, trying to regain your senses. “I saw… someone at the cemetery.”

She finally turns to give you a deadpan expression. “Be more specific. A ghost? One of your many archnemeses?”

“Worse,” you rub your face tiredly. “Danielle.”

Her typing pauses. “Wait, the childhood best friend you told me about?”

“Yeah.”

“The one you ghosted?”

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“The one you pitifully pine over?”

“Well—yeah.”

Haerin lets out a low whistle. “She gave you that?”

“Yeah,” you murmur. “She didn’t know it was me.”

“You should keep it that way,” Haerin says. “It’d suck to open up old wounds after so long.”

“I know.” You puff your cheeks out. “And that’s not even the end of it. I spent forty bucks on flowers just to leave it to rot in a backpack in a tree.”

She glances at the wet puddle you created on the couch. “We can go back tomorrow and get it?”

“It’s okay,” you reply, opening your eyes to the pouring rain outside. You hope Danielle made it home okay. “I’m gonna wait for the rain to die out a bit and then head out again to investigate that weird case. I’ll put the flowers where they belong on the way there.”

“Is there a new lead?” You can practically hear Haerin’s ears perk up.

“Yeah, all the reports of the disappearances seem to pop up in the same area. I just checked for a location that shares an equal distance to all of them and came up with an abandoned warehouse.”

Haerin sits in thought for a second before asking, “Can I come with? You know how the college blog always relies on me for Spider-Woman content.”

“Fine.” You begrudgingly acquiesce. “Only if you get a cool shot of me.”

Haerin takes out her camera and snaps a quick photo of you.

“How about this?” She turns the camera around to show you the result.

You scoff in offense. “Seriously?”

“Is it not flattering enough?” Haerin teases, wrestling the camera away from you.

“I look like a wet dog!”

You web the camera to yourself and delete the photo.

“Stop abusing your powers.” Haerin clicks her tongue. “Go web a towel to clean this mess up.”

“What a coincidence,” you cheerfully ignore her. “The rain’s stopped.”

Like a miracle, the rain has cleared out, the darker clouds making way for the sun. You web a towel to dry your suit (but not the couch or floor) and slip your mask back on again.

“Alright,” you step out onto the balcony and turn to Haerin. “You want a ride there? Uber? Spuber…?”

“Let’s just stick to Spider-Eats.”

“Yeah.”

“And, no thanks,” she winces. “You almost swung into a pole last time.”

“Oops,” you say with no sign of regret. “Anyway, I texted you the coords. Meet you there.” 

You hop on the balcony railing and salute Haerin before proceeding to fall backwards with your hands behind your head. The rush as you swing through the city is unmatchable. You savor the wind rushing against you, the boisterous noise of cars honking and mindless chatter zooming in and out of your ears.

You’re back at the cemetery in no time, and after checking if anyone’s around, you stand before your aunt’s grave once again. Danielle’s roses are still lying there. You wipe some raindrops off the headstone before laying your bouquet down. Then, you’re off again. There’ll be time for that later.

The abandoned warehouse is not too far from the docks, a very typical location for people who are up to no good. You perch on the roof of a building opposite it, where Haerin is already squatting and taking photos. You can spot her motorcycle stationed in the parking lot behind the building. She barely flinches as you tap her shoulder.

“How did you get up here?”

“A good journalist never reveals her secrets.”

“Isn’t it ‘sources’?”

Haerin shrugs. “Same thing.”

You squat next to her. “So… did you notice anything before I came?”

“I did some research. Think this warehouse is registered under the name of just Jace.”

“Just Jace? That’s such a sick name.”

Haerin doesn’t bother to correct you.

“Name doesn’t ring a bell though.” You squint and scan the seemingly innocuous warehouse. “And I’m not picking up any heat signals… looks like nobody’s home.”

“How are we getting in?”

“This is a job for Spider-Woman!” 

You leap off the roof and swing around the warehouse, sweeping the perimeter to search for a way in. 

“There’s always an entrance when you can climb walls,” you muse to yourself.

You open up a voice channel as you crawl up the side of the warehouse, eventually reaching the roof where there is a conveniently open skylight. “Bingo!”

“Psst, Haerin,” you say. “There’s an open window on the roof.”

“Awesome,” she replies, although you note that her tone lacks excitement. “Can you get in and open the door for me?”

“The door?” You peer inside the open skylight. “You mean the gigantic sliding doors?”

“Don’t tell me you’re too weak to open those.”

“No,” you huff. “It’s just that… wouldn’t it be too loud?”

Haerin’s response is reluctant. “I guess.”

“You know what that means,” you sing-song. “It’s time for a Spuber ride!”

There’s some silence followed by a long sigh.

“I thought we agreed to not use that anymore,” she grumbles. “Hurry up and get back here.”

Haerin’s pick up and drop off is quick and easy, much to both of your satisfaction. You asked her to give you a five star rating, to which she replied, “That took literally less than thirty seconds.”

Inside the warehouse is dark, with only some dim flickering lights providing you with a shadowed view of the interior. The warehouse is stocked with looming cargo containers.

“Seems pretty filled for an abandoned warehouse,” Haerin muses, her voice echoing in the void. The silence feels foreboding, which makes you glad that Haerin asked to come, not that you would ever admit that.

“There’s gotta be something here,” you run your hand over the undulating surface of the steel containers. “A secret room, or some complicated contraption.”

“What about that?” Haerin points at a scrape mark on the floor in front of one of the containers, which coincidentally matches the circumference of a quarter circle.

“Oh. That was fast.”

You walk over and tug on the latch, before pulling the door open.

“No worries,” you strain out. It’s heavier than you thought. “Leave it all to me.”

“If you say so,” Haerin says with a smug smile on her face, standing there with no care in the world.

Once you finally get it open, inside the container is a set of stairs that lead downwards to an ominous tunnel.

“Totally not creepy,” you laugh nervously and gesture to Haerin. “Ladies first?”

She rolls her eyes before making her way down. The tunnel is fairly well-kept and it’s not long before you find yourselves in the secret room. It’s a lab, wires running hazardously on the ground, bits and pieces of machinery scattered on tables and filling up boxes, and computer screens displaying complex data and research.

“Okay,” you drawl. “Kinda getting evil mastermind vibes.”

You ruffle through some papers lying around. It seems to be sketches of some cylinder machine with cogs and complicated wiring in it. After inspecting the lab for a bit longer, you both come to the same conclusion.

“He’s trying to time travel,” Haerin notes as she snaps some shots of the lab.

You nod. “His experiments are probably what’s causing all those people to disappear into thin air.”

“What were the statements of the witnesses again?”

“Like the victims were just sucked into an invisible portal.”

Haerin pulls up some files on one of the computers. “It makes sense. It looks like he’s trying to time travel to the year his daughter died.”

You both are silent at this information. Until that silence is broken by a screeching sound outside, one that oddly sounds like the gigantic sliding doors opening.

The two of you immediately break out into a sprint and up the stairs. You don’t hesitate to scoop up Haerin once you’re out of the container and soar up to the roof with a web.

“He’ll know someone was here,” Haerin whispers.

“I know,” you sigh. “Hopefully it won’t lead to anything. We’ll have to come back later.”

Like the true neighborhood-friendly Spider-Woman you are, you give Haerin a Spuber ride back to her motorcycle. She revs the engine once to get your attention, then bids you farewell with a teasing “Race you home!” as she accelerates into the distance.

“So not fair!” You shout out at her retreating figure, swinging to catch up. You’re straining your arms to keep up with Haerin’s motorcycle, but a police car passes by with sirens on, and you know what you need to do. At the last second, you snap your left wrist to make a breakneck turn. Haerin will understand.

You can barely keep your eyes open as Minji nudges you with her elbow.

“Late nights playing 2K again?” The image of her stupid grin floats by in your mind.

“Something like that,” you whine, flicking your head up so your lab goggles fall on your nose. “I should’ve skipped today.”

Minji pulls up the DXF files you made for the project and resumes with the task of readjusting the ratio of some gears. “You don’t even need your lab goggles for today.”

“I look smarter with them on.”

“Yeah, right.” Minji peeks at your rough outlines of the gearbox transmission on paper. Some edges are ripped and it’s crinkled under your folded arms. “Damn. When are you gonna digitize that and render it?”

You slump back in your chair and close your eyes. “When I get a good night’s rest.”

“So, never.”

“Yeah.”

“The assignment’s due next week.”

“Yeah.”

“I hate you.” But she doesn’t. Because the two of you have been lab partners ever since you tripped on her lab coat in class a year ago and knocked over a bunch of her circuits and wires, which, to this day, she still blames you for, which is ridiculous, because who on earth owns a lab coat long enough to the point where it spills on the floor? But, you digress. Her lab coat is now properly tailored.

You’re half a second from drooling and snoring when there’s that prickling sensation on your skin again, and the hairs on the back of your neck shoot up, leaving you with that sinking feeling in your stomach. You sit up so abruptly that you almost slam your forehead onto the table.

Minji’s arm flies in front of your chest to steady you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you stammer. “I just… need to go to the bathroom.”

You grab your backpack and sprint out of the lab, navigating yourself to the nearest exit. You’re on the roof of the building in no time, in your suit, and you immediately see what’s wrong. There’s a man in the middle of campus, floating above the ground, and whatever objects are around seem to be gravitating toward him. The objects begin to orbit around him, creating a mini tornado.

You try to call Haerin, but she doesn’t pick up. You try to call Minji too, but no luck. Your stomach coils with anxiety. You don’t have long to dwell on it though.

As objects slam into one another, students begin to file out of class and understandably panic. Campus security is screaming and directing people to emergency exits, but the whirlwind only gets worse and things are smashing into windows and buildings.

“This isn’t good,” you mutter, immediately diving into action. You web benches, bicycles, poles, and trees in all sorts of directions to disrupt their trajectory toward anyone. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a blur of orange amidst green, and hear a very distinct meow.

“Tiko!”

You hurtle yourself toward the flying tree and narrowly shoot through the branches, successfully grabbing Tiko. You were going to plop him down somewhere safe, but it seems he had other plans, because he crawls into your backpack and nestles inside it, sticking his head out.

“Hang tight, Tiko,” you scream, swinging toward the mystery man. “I’m going to stop this!”

The man now stands on a rooftop, the debris around him thrashing against the building which is threatening to fall apart. You land not too far from him.

“Hi!” You yell over the deafening winds.

He whips his head around, raising his palm to hurl a rock at you. “Stay away!”

“Wait!” It narrowly misses you as you skillfully duck just in time. “You’re Just Jace, right?”

“How do you know my name?” He falters for a second, taking a step back. “…And it’s just Jace.”

“Isn’t that what I just said?” You mumble to yourself in confusion.

You shake your head to focus on the situation at hand. “Please stop this, Just Jace. You’re hurting others!”

“I… I know!” Jace’s hands tightly grip his hair in frustration. “I don’t know why it’s not working.”

As his ire flames up, so do the winds, dust and small rocks starting to obscure your vision.

“Please, calm down!” You desperately yell, slowly making your way toward him with arms raised as a sign of peace. “Let me help you!”

The sound of police sirens grows louder, and you can hear the whirring of helicopter blades behind you. The police helicopter sways in the midst of the tornado, and you fear for both Jace and the police.

“No, no, no!” You try to wave the police away, knowing their presence would only distress Jace more.

“Police! Hands in the air!”

Police officers begin to rappel down from the helicopter, guns aimed at Jace. He scrambles in fear, sending rubble hurling at them in defense. Bullets fly out immediately after.

The sound of gunshots rings through your ear as you expertly maneuver through the ricochets and try to keep everyone safe. You burst through the combat and tackle Jace whilst he’s busy with the officers, trying to Spuber him to somewhere safe.

He wrestles in your grasp, screaming at you to let him go. Tiko gives him a few smacks in response. As you swing through a window, you release your hold on him, both of you rolling over to catch your balance. 

You lean against the wall, taking a moment to catch your breath. You’re rubbing your head that’s throbbing in pain, not noticing Jace’s sudden silence.

“The police really have the worst timing, am I right?” You awkwardly laugh.

You look up to see Jace stalking toward you, like a predator to prey, a dark intensity in his eyes. Any trace of the Jace you encountered before is gone. You bounce on your feet immediately.

“Jace?” You say hesitantly, walking backward. “We can talk about this…”

“You broke it,” he snarls. That’s when you notice what he’s clasping onto so stiffly. It looks awfully similar to those sketches you and Haerin saw in that secret lab. He lets it go and it clatters on the floor.

“I didn’t mean to,” you try to ameliorate the situation. “I was trying to save you.”

Your pleas don’t seem to reach his ears. He just simply repeats, “You broke it.”

“No need to get so upset,” you laugh sheepishly, hands in the air, discreetly scanning for the nearest exit. “I know a really good tech support guy.”

Your skin tingles. Jace then lunges at you, and out of instinct, you web onto the broken device and you swing it around to slam it into the space between you and him. The device makes contact with the concrete and shatters into pieces, shards of glass flying everywhere. For a moment, you feel as if time has slowed down, and everything sounds muffled, like you’re sinking deeper and deeper into the ocean.

And then everything goes black.

You wake up with a gasp, cold sweat sticking to your body. Haerin steps back, surprised. She’s holding her beloved ax, its handle hovering dangerously close to your cheek.

“You’re awake.”

“What?” You look around frantically, hands squeezing the sofa. “How am I back here?”

“What do you mean?” Haerin frowns. “You fell asleep.”

You stand up and squish your face against the window. The college campus is untouched. “What happened to Just Jace? Is Tiko alright?”

Her eyebrow furrows. “Who’s Just Jace? And Tiko the campus cat?”

You don’t respond, still lost in your own thoughts.

“Did you get a concussion on the way to the cemetery?”

You stop pacing and look down, and sure enough, you’re still in your suit, wet from the rain just like two days ago, and the beanie Danielle crocheted is lying on the table.

Then it dawns on you.

“Oh my god, Haerin.” Your jaw is slack. “I just traveled back in time.”

“What.”

It takes you fifteen minutes to sum everything up.

“But the weird thing is that the device didn’t seem to be done when we were in the secret lab.” You bite your cheek in thought. “I don’t know how he would’ve been able to get it working in the next two days.”

“He probably knew someone was onto him when we left the door open,” Haerin says, searching up ‘If you travel back in time, will you break time and space if you get into contact with someone?’ on Google. Most of the results are fruitless.

“That makes sense,” you nod. “But I wonder why he would end up at our college campus out of all places.”

“Maybe it’s the college his daughter went to?”

“Right,” you nod again. You prop your laptop on your lap as you start scouring through the map of the area around the college. “I need to know where he first appears so I can stop him before he gets to campus.”

Haerin ponders for a second. “You mentioned that there was some research on nuclear fusion, right?”

“Yeah… hold on.” You zoom into a nuclear power plant just a few miles from the college. “The device must need a lot of energy to work. He probably got it from here.”

“So,” Haerin hums. “What’s the plan?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Haerin’s voice is unimpressed over the static. “This was your plan?”

“You know me,” you quip ironically while weaving in between the blasts of energy that Jace is throwing at you. “My plan was to come up with a plan now.”

“And have you thought of one?”

“Not really!” You coolly avoid his punches and slide in between his legs. “I’ll call you back!”

When you manage to catch Jace off guard with a roundhouse kick, he stumbles and you use the opportunity to swoop into a vent to hide. You did not expect this alternate version of Jace to be so hostile. You tried to talk to him, really.

(You lower your web bit by bit as you dangle upside-down behind Jace. His back is facing you, clearly focused on wiring his device to the generator.

You tap his back. “Hey.”

He swivels around so fast he almost loses his balance, but immediately regains it and squares up. “Stay away!”

“No, no.” You plop on the floor. “I’m not here to hurt you. I know you’re trying to time travel. I’m from the future, actually.”

There’s an air of hope in Jace’s voice. “The device worked?”

“About that,” you rub your nape and flash an embarrassed smile under the mask. “I kinda had to smash it onto the ground for it to work. You were kind of trying to kill me. But no biggie, I forgive easily!”

Jace narrows his eyes. You stiffen as you feel dread trickle into your stomach. His fist jerks out and you jump back just in time, feeling the wind from the blow brush against your face.

“What the hell, man?” You pout. “I literally just forgave you.”

He doesn’t waste time and continues with a flurry of punches. “I must’ve been attacking you for a reason.”

You shake your head as you roll to the side. “Don’t say I didn’t try to be nice.”)

“Come out and face me!” Jace yells, his voice reverberating throughout the power plant. “You’re nothing but a pest.”

You silently crawl out of the vent and onto a supporting beam. Once you’re positioned right above him, you web him up, landing a nasty uppercut. You don’t have time to celebrate though, because on the way down, he grabs your ankles and pulls you down back to Earth.

“Oof!”

“This ends now.” He hisses, blood dripping from his mouth. He charges toward you, bearing a metal rod in his hand.

“Really getting into the villain role now, huh?” You joke, voice strained as you leap off the ground and kick him square in the face. “Give me some time to think of a name for you.”

You side step another one of his tackle attempts. “Oh! How about Prime Time?”

The only response you get is Jace surging forward with more punches and kicks. “You could just say you don’t like it!”

Jace doesn’t deign you with an answer. He unexpectedly throws a crate toward you, and just as you duck to avoid it, he gets his revenge with a successful blow to your chest with the metal rod.

You slam against the wall, slumping as the wind is knocked out of you.

“Like I said,” Jace says with heavy breaths, towering over you and looking down with a sneer. “This ends now.”

You can only see his silhouette because of the light shining through from the entrance to the power plant behind him, and this gives you an idea. You muster up any remaining willpower and web onto two pillars, pulling yourself toward it and using the momentum to swing kick Jace.

You both fly through the air and outside the power plant, crashing on the roof of a passing car. You wince as you feel the dent in the car. Jace rolls down to the hood of the car. Logically, the driver starts steering off course because the windshield is blocked and they’re probably freaking out at the fact that there are two injured people on their car.

Your body moves before your mind processes what’s going on—you’re webbing people out of the way of the speeding car, even though you’re still lying on your side. But the car spins out of control too fast for you to react. It ends up ramming into the front of a cafe. The impact of the crash sends you flying into the glass wall and into the cafe. You’re getting deja vu: glass is shattered and people start screaming and running away. 

“Oh no,” you groan, trying to ignore the burning pain. “This will not look good in the press release.”

What’s also burning is the car that you’re pinned under—the heat from the crackling fire licking at you, so hot that you can feel it through the spandex. All you can see is the thick smoke that blankets the cafe. From the shadows emerges Jace.

“Please,” you wheeze, feeling like you’ve been hit by a train. Which actually happened once, an experience you wouldn’t recommend to anyone. “This isn’t what your daughter would’ve wanted.”

“Don’t mention her again.” He digs his boot into the car, forcing pressure on you, and you’re exerting all your muscles in your arms to hold the car up. “And some superhero you are. Look at what’s left of this place.”

You strain your neck to stare at the inside of the cafe, and the sight horrifies you. It’s a complete wreckage. Your eyes zero on blonde hair that peeks out under a table that’s been flipped over. Your blood runs cold and there’s a sharp pain in your gut, like a knife sickly twisting itself over and over again. 

Jace chuckles cruelly at your silence. “What, no more snarky remarks?”

She can’t be dead. It’s all your fault—you were too busy slinging people out of the way to notice where the car was headed. How did she not get out in time?

“No,” you choke out. Your lip trembles pathetically. “Turn back time. Please.”

He follows your gaze and smirks. “See someone you know? I guess now you know how it feels.”

Any empathy you felt for him is overridden by the sheer anger that engulfs you. Your body shakes with rage. What comes out next is guttural and raw.

“I’ll kill you,” you spit. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

Jace turns around and cackles, and you wonder how everything went to hell so fast. You wonder how he changed so fast. He’s walking out of the cafe, to the college campus probably, and as much as you want to grab him and beat him until he’s blue, there’s something more important. Or rather, someone.

The adrenaline from the rage earlier is still coursing through your veins and you use your remaining strength to push the car off you. (You wanted to hurl it at him too but your arms were failing). You know exactly what you need to do. You sling a web to the device he’s holding loosely, then repeat that same swinging motion that you did the other timeline, slamming it so hard on the ground you almost feel like your arm will rip off.

Time slows again, and you find yourself in a familiar position, deep in the abyss. The world goes black.

It takes you three times before you realize you’re stuck in a time loop. You don’t know why, but you only get sent back a few hours to the nuclear power plant. You try everything, anything to keep Danielle safe. You know it’s selfish, that you should be caring about everyone else too, but you can’t stand the thought of her dying. You’ve already lost her once, back then when you left her. You can’t be the reason for the world losing her.

In the first loop, you spray the wheels of the car with webs to prevent it from crashing in the first place, but the car stopping in the middle of the road only causes another car to veer off the streets and into the cafe. In the second loop, Jace hurls a boulder mid fight and despite you redirecting it to the building next to the cafe, that building ends up collapsing… on top of the cafe. Everytime, you saving other people leads to Danielle dying in some way.

It’s the third loop. You’re at the nuclear power plant again, head in your hands, and Jace hasn’t noticed your presence yet. You want to cry. Nothing is working. Maybe this is karma for ghosting Danielle all those years ago. Being a superhero is all about sacrifices—is this the sacrifice you have to make? You thought you would be better at letting go by now.

Haerin’s voice is soft in your ear. “Have we had this conversation before?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “This is the fourth time.”

“I’m sorry I can’t remember. And that our solutions didn’t work out.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re the only thing keeping me sane right now.” You bite your lip. “And it’s my fault anyway.”

There’s some faint rustling of paper and typing.

“Nuclear fusion,” Haerin says after a while. “Have you tried slamming the device into the generator? The sheer energy might just break the loop.”

“I might as well.” Your voice is thick with fatigue. “I have nothing else to lose.”

You don’t even bother to greet Jace this time, just immediately pulling the device toward you and slamming it onto the generator. The reaction is instantaneous—the device explodes and the generator rumbles, sparks flying. Waves of energy start pulsing out in irregular patterns. It’s so strong that you’re knocked off your feet and your back hits a railing.

You’re knocked out again. Maybe you’re setting a new world record.

Hidden under the knitted quilt, you stir, the thin web of strands barely stifling the bite of the morning cold. Someone is sweetly humming a melody that’s on the tip of your tongue. The constant hum finds its way into you, it softens your bones and eases your heart. The constant hum sings, enveloping you, lulling you back into the solace of the darkness. 

This tranquility is swiftly broken by you remembering. You launch out of bed, blinking your eyes to gain a hold of your surroundings. You’re in a campervan. Nostalgia washes over you as you realize that this is the campervan Danielle’s family used to take on road trips. You wearily eye the photo frame stuck to the rustic fridge. Gleeful smiles and sand-covered faces adorn the frame, reminding you of what you left behind. 

You were known as that quiet kid who had no parents. Any attention you received would consist of pitied stares and hushed whispers. You didn’t mind the loneliness—you were used to it. And your aunt took care of you and showed you love. That was enough. You didn’t think you needed any more love until Danielle moved in next door and changed your life.

She was the first to approach you, holding out a four-leaf clover with a bright smile, saying “Hi! I’m Danielle, you look like you need some good luck!”. It only took you a few months to warm up to her, not that it was hard, because she was so understanding and cheery. She never cared about what other people said at school. She cared about what you had to say, and that’s something you never thought you needed, let alone deserved, until her.

Danielle’s family is equally as sweet, and they welcomed you with open arms. Every few months, they would go on a road trip and you and Danielle would always say farewell with teary eyes and lingering hugs. Until Danielle insisted you tag along, and that’s how it became a tradition.

Lightly caressing miscellaneous decorations as you make your way outside, you take it all in. The gentle twinkle of fairy lights shyly shines through the tinted windows that are littered with stickers and magnets. This caravan was your second home. Inextricably imbued with memories with Danielle, the two of you left no inch of this van unexplored and untouched. Outside, the fresh smell of subdued smoke (bacon and eggs) wafts to you, beckoning you. Your stomach growls. You forget about the ravenous appetite of a superhero.

But you’re not a superhero right now. You’re twelve, not yet bitten, meant to be blissfully unaware of the terrors that await you as you grow up. You run outside to find Danielle. She’s preparing a plate of breakfast for you.

“Danielle!” You rush toward her and tackle her in a hug, tears subconsciously spilling onto your cheeks. She steadies herself so that the plate of food isn’t knocked over.

She gasps out your name, concern etched in her eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head and nuzzle her neck, sniffling like a baby. “I’m just glad you’re my best friend.”

Your voice is so high and prepubescent, which makes you burst into laughter out of nowhere. Danielle laughs with you. “I’m glad you’re mine, too.”

“Where’s your parents?”

You lean back as she tilts her head to the barbeque grill a few yards away. “Cooking up their breakfast.”

You eventually let go, quite reluctantly, and take a moment to admire her. You’re smitten. Her hair is brown, bangs slightly ruffled, and she’s sporting a toothy grin. You’re so overwhelmed with love you can’t even speak, but this is soon overshadowed by guilt. This is the girl whose heart you broke.

Nothing about you gets past Danielle, so she immediately notices your wavering.

“You okay?” She intertwines your fingers together “Let’s eat breakfast.”

‘I don’t know,” you mumble, feeling a wave of nausea hit you. “I feel a bit dizzy.”

She quickly sets down the plate of bacon and eggs, her hands instantly finding their place on your waist.

“Maybe you should get some more rest,” she pouts, gently squeezing your waist. You try to suppress the shiver that this causes.

“Yeah,” you agree without a sliver of resistance. “Come with me?”

Danielle sends you a knowing smile. “Okay.”

You both make your way back into the van, ditching breakfast. You climb into the comfort of the bed, lifting the same knitted quilt so that it hugs both of you. Your body relaxes, for the first time in a very long time, and you bask in the heat radiating off Danielle.

As your eyes involuntarily close, you can hear the faint sound of ticking. You’re unsure of what is to come, but the curl in your stomach unfolds and pardons you, allowing you to feel Danielle’s love. For just one more time.

–

There’s a brief moment where you regain a shred of consciousness at the nuclear power plant, but everything is too bright and you have to squeeze your eyes shut. You only feel another wave of energy vibrate against your skin before your vision’s black again. Definitely a world record.

Someone’s playing with your hair. Deft fingers weave through strands of your hair and twirl it, lightly pulling on it before letting go and repeating. You blink your eyes open and are met with Danielle already staring at you. She’s older than the last time-travel episode, but younger than the current her. You’re still smitten.

You’re laying in her bed, in her room, in her house. You surmise it’s probably a sleepover night. She’s wearing those glasses with a clear frame, so it must be midway through senior year. You smile to yourself as you remember that she breaks it just before graduation by sitting on it. (She forgot that she put it on her seat.)

“What are you smiling about?” Danielle pokes your nose. “Are you thinking about how that one kid fell off his chair while falling asleep in class?”

“No,” you giggle as you sit up, nostalgia pervading your chest. “But that was funny though. Thanks for reminding me.”

She’s playing with your fingers now, head tilted with that starry look in her eyes that always leaves you dumbfounded. Your smile slowly fades. You feel like a kid again, even though this was only the two of you from three years ago.

“Danielle,” you say shakily, eyes locked onto your entwined fingers. “Would you believe me if I said I’m from the future?”

She considers your question for a second. “What happens in the future?”

You swallow a lump. Where do you even start? ‘Well, I’m actually gonna ghost you in a few months and we’ll never speak again, but then we meet, well not really—it’s more like I see you, and then you die in a cafe because of me. Oh, and I’m Spider-Woman.’

“You dye your hair blonde,” you continue, voice barely above a whisper. You’re holding back tears. “And you go to college overseas to study.”

Danielle’s face shifts into something sadder, half sympathetic. “That doesn’t sound too far-fetched.”

“I’m… I’m sorry,” your voice cracks. “I do some really bad things in the future, and I’m really sorry.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Danielle tries to lift the mood. “Can’t be worse than the time when you spilled orange juice all over my biology assignment the morning it was due.”

Your rambling teeters on the line of coherence. “I push you away—and I’m such an asshole. But I had to, you have to believe me. I can’t tell you why because it hasn’t happened yet and it will probably break some rule of time-traveling, but I just want you to know that I’m so–”

“Hey,” she cradles your face like you're something delicate. Like you’re not the person who will leave her behind with no explanation. “It’s okay.”

“I miss you so much, Danielle.” It’s all you can say. “I miss you so much.”

Her thumb tenderly swipes away any tears that fall. “I’m right here.”

But she’s not.

You’re sobbing pathetically into her hand. You can’t remember the last time you cried. It must’ve been at your aunt’s funeral. Your head is pounding and even though you’re in the body of your younger self, you can still feel the phantom repercussions of fights with Jace. Danielle continues softly, “I could never hate you, no matter what. All you need to do is talk to me—the me in your world.”

“I love you,” you hiccup, lip quivering. “I never got to say it in my timeline. I hope you know that.”

“You know I do too,” Danielle smiles, bitter-sweet. “Promise me you’ll say it to the other me.”

You nod, looping your pinky finger with hers.

She seems satisfied. “You’ve been through a lot. Let’s get some rest.” She guides you back onto the pillow and onto your side, nestling behind you, arms wrapped around your waist and clasped on your stomach.

The ticking sounds again, and it slowly floods your mind as your vision fades to black.

“Please tell me it’s over,” you plead weakly as you wake up to the sight of peeling plaster on the ceiling. You force your body up, and you see an unconscious Jace collapsed against the wall. The broken device is just a fingertip away from you. This is the room you Spubered him into while distancing him from the police. You’re back. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Tiko hops out of your backpack and rubs his face against yours.

“Hey, buddy,” you coo, scratching his chin. “Thanks for the help. I’ll see you around campus.”

You pick yourself up, shaking stray shards of glass off you. You web Jace against the wall, and make sure to add extra to ensure he doesn’t escape. You briefly notice the wrinkles on his face and his calloused hands.

“Some things we have to let go,” you say softly to him, even though he can’t hear you. “I need to take this to find the missing victims.”

You leave a space in your heart to mourn for Jace’s daughter, and genuinely wish the best for him. Tiko’s already run off somewhere. You take the device and stretch your limbs, preparing for the long journey home. 

Actually, you have two stops before you go home. First stop is a safe place to change out of your suit and temporarily hide the device.

Second stop. You run to find Danielle. You think that this has been a long time coming, considering that you’ve been running away from her for the past three years.

You’re standing like an idiot outside the cafe, hands in your pockets, just staring at Danielle through the glass wall. She seems to feel the weight of your gaze though, because she eventually looks up and her eyes widen at the sight of you. You wave awkwardly, to which she starts packing up her things in a hurry.

You breath hitches as she says your name. It rolls off her tongue in a way that is so familiar.

“Care to join me on a walk?” You rock back and forth on your heels, avoiding eye contact with her.

Her face is passive. It scares you more than it should. But she complies without any questions. “Okay.”

It takes around twenty minutes to reach your aunt’s grave. You pat the space in front of you as a gesture for Danielle to sit down, and she does.

“Before I start,” you say. “I just wanted to say thank you for visiting my aunt. You didn’t have to.”

But she did. Because that’s what she always does—go above and beyond. You take a deep breath before releasing it. “I’m sorry.”

She nods, showing that she’s listening, but doesn’t respond.

“I… was an asshole,” you clench your jaw and close your eyes. “I said some hurtful things.”

(“Are you avoiding me?” Danielle asks, eyebrows furrowed.

It’s another morning of a school day.

“No,” you exhale deeply. You don’t spare her a glance. “I’ve just been really busy.”

“We’ve both been busy for a while,” she counters, frustration laced in her voice. “But the difference is that we still made time for each other.”

You slam your locker door shut. The spider bite thrums with pain. “Take the hint. I don’t have space for you in my life anymore.”)

“And even after I said those things, you still tried to reach out to me.”

(More unread texts from Danielle. Can we talk? I’m sorry about the other day. 

Hey, I’ve been trying to give you space, but I just wanted to check in.

Why are you ignoring me?)

“There’s a reason I ghosted you. Not that I’m trying to justify it, but I just wanted to let you know it wasn’t because of you or anything.”

The other Danielle’s words flash through your mind.

“I love you,” you finally say, and it feels as though there’s this weight lifted off your chest. “I have, for a long time. And I needed to leave you because I love you. Because I was scared.”

Her eyebrows crease in thought. “Because you were scared I didn’t love you back?”

“No—well, not no! Of course I care about that. But that wasn’t my main concern.”

“How do I say this,” you scratch your head. “Oh. You gifted me a beanie the other day. Crocheted by you, red with a white pom pom.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Oh.”

You fiddle with the grass that you’re sitting on. “I accepted a long time ago that anyone close to me will be in danger because of, well, who I am. And being Spider-Woman… it’s a responsibility that I have to commit to. I can’t just fall in love.”

A pause. “Who said you can’t?”

“Well,” you stutter. “It’ll put you in danger. And I have to put my Spider responsibilities first.”

She shifts closer to you. “And what if I’m okay with that?”

“You’d… you’d have to actually like me back anyway.”

Danielle punches you on the shoulder.

“Ow!” You frown. “What was that for?”

“For being an asshole.”

“Oh.”

“You should’ve just talked to me.”

“I know,” you admit. “But I just felt like I couldn’t.”

“I never stopped thinking about you all these years,” Danielle shakes her head. “I was a mess. I wanted to hate you so much, but I just couldn’t. And I hated that even more.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Danielle says, and the look in her eyes tells you that she really does mean it.

You hesitantly reach out toward her. She grabs your hand and moves it to her face. It’s your turn to cradle her, making sure that she’s really here and that this is real. Her smile is teary. 

“I love you,” you breathe out. And that’s the only thing you want to say for the rest of your life. To make up for all the times that you didn’t. 

“I love you, too.” Her smile is so enchanting and you want to lean in and kiss her.

But gunshots ring out nearby and there’s shouting. You turn to Danielle, distraught. She grabs your phone from your pocket and adds herself as a contact.

“Go,” she nods softly, handing you back your phone. “Call me when you’re done. I’ll tend to your wounds.”

Your eyes flit over to your aunt’s grave. You hope you’ve become a hero she can be proud of. And you thank her for everything. You slip on your mask and stuff your clothes in a backpack.

Being a superhero isn’t all that easy, but you’re glad you have people you love to lean on to relieve the burden. You leap off the ground with confidence, swinging toward the chaos.

Dedicated to user phamphamz... happy early birthday!

Title is from Autumn by Niki :]

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.5 K Warnings: homophob*c slurs, homoph*bia. Prompt: If things cannot be changed, can the attention be diverted? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 64: Put Out the Fire

Remus’ hand, the one that had been holding you down seemed to loosen up slightly. You looked up, he seemed just as tense but you saw Sirius plop back down into the water and you couldn’t stay down there any longer, your need for air was almost overwhelming at that point, and while you had frantically looked for a wand in the pocket of both boys’ shirts that were still on the floor to try and use some kind of charm for breathing underwater, Remus’ wand had been on his sweater and Sirius’ on his robes, so instead you’d had to hold you breath.

You gasped for air and looked towards the now shut doors. The first thing you saw was Remus’ shocked gaze, you turned to Sirius, he had his head hidden in between his palms. You looked in between the two of them, you felt your feet trembling and your lips wanting to say something. You hadn’t seen what happened, but by Sirius’ quick standing up and tense muscles under the water, you were sure someone had seen them. 

“Who?” You asked, voice raspy. The room was dеad silent, no sound other than the water still coming out of the taps and the soft echo of the small wave you’d created upon resurfacing. Both boys were almost frozen in place. Neither of them seemed ready to answer your question. “Who was it? At the door?” you pressed. 

It took a whole moment for either boy to muster up the words. “Snape,” said Sirius almost in a whisper. Remus was still quiet. 

“Severus Snape?” you asked, horrified. “How much did he–” 

“Everything,” he interrupted. You felt as if you'd gotten a punch in the gut and all the air had been drawn out of your lounges –you knew exactly how that felt. “Except for you, he didn’t see you. Remus made sure.” You blinked a couple of times and let out a short breath, trying to deal with all the new information. “He called us sissys,” Sirius continued. You saw Remus flinch out of the corner of your eye. 

“So he’s also homophobic,” you said in a scoff as if you weren’t surprised. “And he… just left?” 

“He left when I pointed my wand at his ugly face,” Sirius said, there was a tinge of that very characteristic boastfulness of his laced in his words. “Right Moony?” 

No response. 

“Moony?” Sirius asked again, now focusing his gaze on him. 

Remus was looking at Sirius but not entirely, it was as if his gaze was lost somewhere in the space he occupied. Sirius turned to you, questioning. Remus looked as if he had been petrified, though you could see the soft rise and fall of his chest. 

“Remus,” you said, much softer than Sirius, but his gaze was still completely lost.

Sirius was about to shake him but you were fast enough to hold his hand before he got to touch him. He gave you a confused look and you nodded softly. You used your hold on his wrist to draw it closer to Remus in a much softer manner and guided it until he touched his cheek. You then placed your hand on top of Sirius’ –much like you’d done to Remus earlier– and guided his index just under Remus’ chin. As you suspected, his heartbeat was almost as fast as it had been earlier, but this time it wasn’t because of pleasure, Remus was terrified. 

You threw another soft look at Sirius before pulling your other hand towards Remus’ unattended cheek. “Remus?” you called again. 

“Moony?” Sirius said shortly after, imitating the softness of your tone. He caught on almost as fast as you on what Remus was experiencing. He’d experienced it himself more times than he’d like to admit. 

“He knows,” Remus spoke finally. “He knows I’m a werewolf and he knows I’m queer.” You could tell how hard it had become for him to breathe. He was barely blinking as he said it. 

“He can’t talk about the first one,” Sirius said softly. 

You already knew about the incident. Severus had gotten charmed by Dumbuldore so he didn’t speak about Remus’ secret. You wondered if the spell had been ambiguous enough to also stop him from talking about this. It was highly unlikely, Dumbledore was a brilliant wizard, he wouldn’t leave space for loopholes.

Remus didn’t even have the energy to look at Sirius in the sarcastic way he’d want to. The one that made the obvious thing known: He could talk about the second one.

It was easy to guess what he was thinking. “It’s okay,” you said softly. “It’s okay,” you repeated reassuringly, much like he had done to you in the past. “We’ll figure something out.” 

“We always figure something out,” Sirius said with a smile, and leaned closer to press a soft kiss to Moony’s temple. That seemed to somehow ease the other boy. 

“That’s right,” you added softly and allowed your hand to glide down to his collarbone, squeezing the space between his shoulder and his neck reassuringly. “It may take us a while, but we’ll find a way. We already found our way to each other, whatever happens after won’t matter.” 

“The pressure, it’ll…” Remus took in a shaky breath. “It’ll crush us,”  he added apprehensively. “What if– If you can’t take that anymore,” he added as he looked at both you and Sirius. 

The root of his fear wasn’t on people finding out, but rather it was on the two of you leaving him because of it. You shook your head and sighed once you figured it out. “Rem, we’ve all gone pretty much through hell before getting together. Sirius’s never cared about other people’s opinions and as long as I have the two of you, I won’t either. Shout it out loud to the entire school if you want, I’m yours, we’re yours, and nothing will change that.” 

“She’s right Moons, if you think some Slytherin’s badmouthing us will make us step away from you then–” 

“It’s not just the Slytherins,” Remus interrupted, insisting, anxious. “Our very friends could turn on us. You don’t know the kind of prejudice they have against queer people, against people in a menage a trois or whatever it is you call it. They will look at us and they will judge us wherever we go and–” 

“Hey,” you said softly when you realised his words were taking over his thoughts. “Name one friend you think would leave us if they found out. I dare you.” 

Remus seemed to think about it for a second, he opened his mouth to speak but he couldn’t say a thing. “None of them would,” Sirius confirmed. “You know that, right?” 

“What about my father?” 

“You could always say you’re only half gay, you’re also dating a woman,” said Sirius nonchalantly and got a slap from your side. 

“I’m sure Hope would help him understand if it ever gets big enough for him to hear about it,” you said with a smile. “Don’t worry so much, Rem. We are together in this, we’re not planning to leave you any time soon.” 

“Yeah?” He said softly. Almost too quietly to be heard. As if he was scared you might go back on your words. 

You smiled and leaned in to hug him, Sirius was shortly behind, the two of you embracing Remus tightly. Both boys were still quite shirtless, and you could feel their soft skin against your hands and face, it was reassuring in a way. Your cheeks pressed to the crook of his neck and Sirius pressed almost right behind you. It took him a few seconds, but eventually, he also closed his arms around Sirius, pushing you even closer to him, as if to make sure you were real, as if to make sure you were really there, hugging him, and telling him you’d be with him no matter what. Just months ago something like that would seem unimaginable, and here you were. 

“I mean,” Sirius said. You could hear the teasing smile on his face even if you had your back turned on him. “Did you really think we’d ever want to stop after getting a taste of you?” He added before pressing a sonorous kiss on Remus’ cheek. The smack sound echoed through the entire place.

Remus was startled at first, growing almost red from the unexpected remark –and he was lucky Sirius didn’t lick his face as he initially intended– but then he chuckled light-heartedly. You smiled and pressed a kiss to his neck as well, much quieter than Sirius’ but loud enough for him to hear. “I mean, Sirius’ is right. How could we ever?” 

Remus’ chuckles grew a little louder. And he tightened his grip around the two of you.  A few minutes passed like that. After the heat of the moment and the cold bucket of water that Severus had thrown your way, it was a nice, simple, and incredibly reassuring embrace. “We should probably leave now,” he said while rubbing circles on Sirius’ back and pressing a short kiss to your hair. 

“I don’t want to,” you said petulantly. The idea of leaving the warmth and comfort of them presenting itself almost as a nightmare. 

“Severus might tell a teacher, and then we’ll really be in trouble.” 

“Remus!” Sirius complained this time around. He was clearly much calmer now, impossibly delighted at having both his boyfriend and his girlfriend cling to him so fervently.

“You both know we should go, don’t make me the bad guy.” 

You grumbled something as you pushed yourself off him, “Why did we say we wanted common sense in the relationship,” you sighed as you turned to Sirius.

“Because we’re both reckless and would probably end up in detention without Moony,” he reminded you. 

“Well detention doesn’t sound so ba–” 

“Bathroom cleaning.” Remus said without batting an eyelash. 

You stood straight almost in an instant. “Remus is right, we need to leave this place,” you said as you leaned down and allowed your hand to dive down into the water to pick up their shirts, handing them over shortly after. You’d gotten it wrong and mismatched them to their owner, the boys smiled when they noticed, exchanging the wet clumps of fabric between each other as they looked at you stepping out of the water with clothes completely soaked but clean in comparison to earlier. 

Neither boy said a thing, but the sight of your shirt and skirt clinging to your body due to the water tempted both of them to forgo common sense and just continue with what you’d started before Severus arrived. “What?” you asked as they stared. 

“Nothing,” Sirius said, almost too quickly before busying himself with the damp cloth in his hand. Trying to expand it and put it on, even as it was wet. “How is it so much harder to put on a wet shirt than to remove it,” he mumbled as he struggled to find one of the arms. 

“You’re not really meant to put on wet clothes, only to remove them,” Remus replied with a teasing smirk before also leaving the tub. He was dripping, the droplets of water disappearing into the charmed floor. It seemed like whatever water reached it would instantly dry, it’d been designed to avoid students tripping on wet surfaces; it was still fascinating to see the droplets almost disappear as if they had been swallowed by a sponge the moment they touched the ground.

 His trousers were half on –since you’d managed to remove one of the buttons– and pulled down as he stepped out of the bath. Sirius hollered something about him having a “Great arse” and you tried not to laugh as Moony frowned, and pulled up the trousers as a blush suffused his face. Not that Sirius had actually seen anything other than his underwear. 

You leaned back a little bit to look and nodded. “No, I mean he’s definitely right,” you said with a shrug. Which got an exasperated –and yet diverted– look from Moony. He shook his head as he pulled on his shirt, picked his jumper from the side of the tub and took his wand out from one of the sleeves, where it had previously gotten stuck.

“Little Witch, come over,” He said softly. You approached him without questions and he cast a simple spell over you, in a second your clothes were all dried up, they even looked ironed. 

“That’s a neat trick,” you said as you adjusted the button and realised the small hole in the side of your skirt had also disappeared. You looked at it puzzled as you turned to Remus with amazement. 

“It’s a repairing charm,” he responded with a shrug. “I begged Pomfrey to teach me how to do it. I’d lost a great deal of my clothes because of Moony.”

“You’re so brilliant!” you said as you took his hand in between your hands and pressed a fast kiss on his lips. He seemed rather content with your sudden show of love and appreciation. You’d called him brilliant before about a hundred times, but if from now on that praise also came with a kiss, then he’d have to be twice as brilliant as he’d been before.

By the time you left the bathroom, both boys had been dried with Remus’ spell, and you’d had to step out into the sea of toads on the outside hall. Upon little to no deliberation, the three of you decided that going to the courtyard and blending in with the rest of your friends would be your best alibi. Especially if you made a lot of noise and made it appear you’d been there a while. At least like that, you’d be able to diminish the credibility of whatever Severus decided to tell other people. 

If you made the rest doubt that you’d ever been anywhere but in the courtyard, then the probability of having been in the Prefect’s bathroom would go down drastically. Hence, you sneaked through one of Hogwarts’ interminable secret passages and arrived at the courtyard not from the main entrance but rather from an underground passage that dropped you just outside of it. 

You used the same technique you had used outside the great hall to climb up and the three of you blended with the crowd as if you’d been there all along.

“Hey,” you said as you approached your group of friends.

Mary was almost startled when she spotted you “Where were you?” 

“We got ourselves cleaned after the mud incident, took a while to find you in the crowds.” 

“If you had come with me instead of behind your boyfriends–” she stopped herself as if she realised she’d said something she shouldn’t have but added, “Your boyfriend’s beautiful hair then you wouldn’t have ruined your uniform.” 

You pushed her with your shoulder playfully, not reproaching but rather diverted at how fast her stance had changed when she thought she’d said more than she should.  It made you think of how and when you’d tell the rest of your friends about your relationship. 

Which had some conflicted thoughts, part of you wanted to keep it a secret, just because of how exciting it was to have them for the two of you, while the other part wanted to tell every single person in the world about it, because dating Remus Lupin was something worth boasting about. Yes, it had been you and Sirius the ones who finally got one of the dreamiest boys at the entire school. However would you want to keep that a secret? 

If only there were not such things as prejudices and so on, perhaps you might have made it obvious right there and then. But then again, you might have been the one in less trouble if word got out since you weren’t the one openly breaking the classic heterosexual relationships, the boys were. Not even Tom was openly gay, even if it wasn’t exactly a secret, it was more as if he belonged in a secret club, where only other members of the club and selected allies were admitted. 

It was the only way to maintain everyone safe since you were sure the racism already existing in some places of the school wouldn't take too long to turn into homophobia. Yet another excuse to belittle people. After all, you had met Arkalis, and the way he’d implied things about Evan had been enough to tell you the position of the Pure Blood Community in regard to sexual preferences. 

“What do you mean ‘her boyfriend’s beautiful hair?’” Asked James as he turned to Lily in an almost reproachful tone. 

“Nobody can deny it, Sirius has the best hair,” said Marlene. 

“Between who?” protested James. “The Marauders?” 

“Probably the entire school,” answered Mary with a shrug. 

James looked honestly offended by the entire ordeal, not because he didn’t think Sirius had amazing hair, but because Lily thought Sirius had amazing hair. Not that she didn’t have any right to think it, of course, she could think whatever she liked, but it didn’t stop the little discontent over it. “Well, I think Lily has the best hair.” 

“Of course you do,” Everyone retorted, almost in a choir. James just frowned in return and placed his hand around Lily who rolled her eyes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, instantly making the frown disappear. 

Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed Severus walking past the entrance and towards a bunch of Slytherins on the other side of the courtyard. His robes were still filled with mud, and he was covered by what you recognized to be the slime on the library entrance. There was a choir of laughter among the students once a small Hufflepuff girl noticed him and pointed his demeanour at her friends who seemed genuinely diverted at the sight.

“That is enough, Miss Bingley, please,” McGonagall said in a rather stern voice. 

“But Professor,” retorted another Hufflepuff that stood beside her. “He’s covered in troll snot!” 

This caused yet another chorus of laughs, this time even the Slytherins were poking fun at Severus who had already turned crimson from anger, his face contorting into that of an angry ostrich. When he noticed your staring he gave you a disdainful face with an air of superiority. As if he knew something you didn’t and he knew that something had the power to destroy you. Severus had assumed Sirius was cheating on you with Remus Lupin, and he was already devising a plan to bring the three of you down. He had this unwavering idea that it was your fault he was miserable and that Lily had started dating Potter because you had prompted her to it. He didn’t think it was a coincidence that Potter had been chasing after her for years; only when you appeared in the school had she actually decided to give him a chance. 

For all Severus cared, you and James had put a spell on Evans and that’s why she hung out with you so readily. After all, it had been after you arrived that she had started to throw those resentful looks his way. Almost as if she had started to hate him, which had never happened before. And it was in this madness that Severus was determined to destroy you. He didn’t give a damn if you recently lost your mother and friend, not even when he read on the papers that you’d run away from home; in fact, he’d even hoped you wouldn’t return at the beginning of the year. He was so upset and bitter over the way Lily was acting toward him that he blamed it all on you and couldn’t see past his pain.

It being your fault made sense, you were the perfect scapegoat, especially when he was not ready to admit it had been his attitude, and what he had called her that made Lily start being so wary of him. 

Unbeknownst to all his plans, you held his gaze and smirked, leaning closer to Sirius. “You should have told me he looked so ridiculous,” you said with a laugh, that caused Sirius to also pay attention to Severus. There was a fire in the Slytherin’s eyes as his gaze crossed with Sirius’ unbothered and clearly diverted one. 

“Severus Snape?” Sirius questioned. “Or should we say Severus Snail?” 

Some other kid caught wind of what he said and repeated it a little louder, soon enough there was a choir of voices chanting “Severus Snail, Severus Snail!” while the rest laughed at the ridiculously fitting nickname for the boy covered in slime. 

Severus puffed and blew, and looked more pissed than anything, his stupid proud smile erasing from his face as more and more voices joined the chanting. Neither you nor Sirius had joined, but both of you were laughing merrily. And as Sirius had placed his arm around you and had you lean closer to him, Severus thought he was the most disgusting man he had ever seen (after Potter). But he didn’t feel sorry for either of you, instead, he was ready to rip you to shreds. 

“Enough!” repeated McGonagall, in a much more commanding tone than the one he had used the first time. “Mr Snape, please go to Mr Slughorn to see if he can help you out of your… predicament,” she added. “Everyone else, the classes are suspended for today. Food will be served on the lawn next to the black lake and you shall remain there until further notice, is that clear?” 

There was a choir of excited “yes” coming from the crowds.

She sighed and then turned around, Professor Nightshade was by her side. She gave you a weary glance since she’d been trying to get a hold of you since you went back to school, but the situation at hand seemed a lot more relevant. The rest of the teachers, including Sprout, Flitwick and Spellman, leaned in to hear what McGonagall was telling them in a much softer tone. “I’ll talk to the house elves to devise a plan for the displacement of the Toads,” she said. “Unless anyone has any other ideas?” 

The teachers disappeared into the roofed section of the courtyard and you turned to look at Lily with a proud smile, leaning onto her before whispering: “Told you you didn’t have to worry about the homework.” 

Even with the thick snow outside, the students had all armed themselves with warming spells, there had been a few fires constructed near the lake and the elves were handing out hot chocolate with warming potions –courtesy of Slughorn– to everyone that required them. The prank had turned a boring first day of school into somewhat of a winter picnic or an exterior of a ski resort lounge party. The lake was frozen, the elves had gotten some skates and some students were skating about while others remained close to the fires while drinking their hot cocoas and roasting marshmallows.

Eventually, a Ravenclaw had the brilliant idea of also cooking food in the fire and with the help from the house elves got his hands on some raw meat in bruschetta sticks and with a spell had them float and spin around the fire as they cooked.

 He taught some other students how to do it, and suddenly almost all the fires were not only for warming people but also a buffet of all types of roasted food and vegetables. 

The day might have started with toads, but it ended in a winter festival! 

It’s been a few hours since you’d gotten there with everyone and by then you were all just lounging on the snow, close enough to the fire to be warm, but not so much that the snow would melt underneath you. You had a bruschetta of roasted vegetables in your hand and were munching on some green stuff that tasted like zucchini but with spices. 

“Well it turned out a lot better than I expected,” said James as he leaned back next to Sirius, you had been lying in between him and Remus, shoulders bumping into each other as you pulled food into your mouth. Remus would occasionally have some marshmallows float towards him and share them with you and Sirius. 

“Yeah, we’d never had a prank ended in a party,” said Peter from the other side. He was drinking some hot chocolate and had about 5 marshmallows floating beside him, and another 5 -much smaller ones– inside his beverage. “They almost always end up in detention.” 

“You think they’ll figure it was us?” asked Sirius thoughtfully. 

“I don’t think they even know how it was done,” you retorted. “I mean there is no spell that gets so many toads in so many places at once.” 

“I believe Flitwick and Spellman are trying to figure that out,” added Remus. “I saw them talking to some of the elves, and Nimbletwist said they had been tasked to revise the origin of the toads, but no one is sure where they came from.” 

“Luckily the Swampbombs don’t leave any magic traces…” 

“Don’t be so sure,” said Peter. “We thought stink pellets didn’t leave any traces after their dung was completely released and we got in detention anyway.” 

“How did they figure out they had been yours?” 

“The Slytherins threatened the Zonko shopkeeper to tell them who’d bought them,” he admitted. “Moral of the story– never buy pranks under your own name.” 

You laughed at that and took another bite of your bruschetta, whatever you’d eaten was sweet and slightly condimented, you weren’t sure you’d eaten it before, but you certainly enjoyed the texture of it in your mouth, not to mention the taste was exquisite. 

“Hey, wanna go skating?” Annie Doxon said as she approached Peter, you could tell he was trying to hide his smile and look cool about it when he got up as she extended her hand. You smiled as you saw the two of them towards the lake. 

“And you, Étoile? Wanna skate?” 

You hummed in return, you’d barely slept that night, and then you’d gotten a dеath scare at the bathrooms. It's not that you were sleepy, or that you wanted to sleep, but rather that you were much too tired to will yourself to stand anytime soon. Not to mention there was no place as comfortable as lying between the two of them. “Not right now,” you admitted. “But if you want to–” 

“No, I’m good here too,” he added with a smile, leaning his head a little closer to yours. “Can I have some, Moons?” he asked Remus as he gave a bite to a marshmallow. Moony smirked and floated it towards Sirius who promptly gave it a bite of his own. 

“This is really nice,” you said as you took another bite of your food. 

“Not having class?” asked Sirius.

“The marshmallows?” quipped Remus. 

“No, being with you,” you said, not realising how freaking sappy you’d sounded until it was too late. 

“Is it?” Sirius said with a smirk as he turned to you with a teasing eyebrow and you groaned in return. 

“Never mind, I take it back, I take it back,” you joked, it didn’t matter, Sirius had already thrown himself over your stomach, pushing you closer to Remus and looking up at you with a teasing smile.

“What about it is it that you like so much?” 

“Oh, please!” you complained with a smile as you tried not to make it evident how flustered you’d gotten over your own stupidity. 

“Come on, Étoile, dis-moi!”

“Non, non je t'en prie.”

“I’d certainly like to hear it too,” Remus said as he leaned on his elbows to be able to look at the two of you better. It was like the entire world around the three had faded, leaving only you and nothing else. “What is it, Little Witch?” 

“You just like torturing me, don’t you?” you said, playing offended. 

“Perhaps we do,” Sirius responded as he looked at Remus with a rather complicit smile. 

“It’s just that you look exceptionally cute when you’re flustered,” Remus said, much quieter, in case someone was listening to the three. You covered your face with your hands but both of them were quick and moved them out of the way, looking at you with infuriatingly teasing smiles. 

You frowned and pouted and the two boys blurted out laughing. Perhaps if Severus had seen the entire thing happen he would have realised he’d gotten it all wrong, and that his plans to torment you would dissolve in water like an effervescent tablet.

You were shaking your head as the boys continued to laugh their heads off when you heard a rather big explosion. The entire place went quiet, and people turned to look towards the castle. It couldn’t have been the prank, there was nothing in the swampbombs akin to an actual bomb.

“What–” 

“My god,” you heard a Hufflepuff girl –Alice Becket– say as she looked towards her window. You gave Remus a look since they had been a thing and he just shrugged in return. “I left my fireworm in the dorm room, if toads got in…” 

Suddenly there was another explosion, this time it was louder.

“Alice!” Michael, another Hufflepuff, screamed. “Did you also take Puxie out of her cage?” 

“She looked constrained,” Alice said with a miserable-looking expression. 

And then there was another boom. Imogen, who at some point had sat beside Remus winced. “And… that must have been Tony.” 

“Your fireworm?” you asked as you turned to her. She nodded in return. 

“Alice, may I have a word with you?” Said Professor Spellman with a rather stern look. “Care to explain the explosions in the common room?” 

“It’s the fireworms, Sir. I think they might have encountered the Toads…” she said and then she looked down, shaking her head. “Poor Drewie…” 

“And why, pray tell, did a bunch of Hufflepuffs keep fireworms in their dorm rooms?” He said, voice booming and turning to look at Nightshade. She shrugged in response, even if she was head of the house, she had no idea. 

“Homework,” said Imogen. 

“Hufflepuffs are not the only ones with fireworms either,” said a Ravenclaw as there was another loud boom and smoke started to come out of their tower. 

“By Rowena!” said Spellman as he heard another boom. 

“Where do you keep yours?” You asked, turning to Sirius. 

“Peter is taking care of them, I think he left them with Hagrid or something,” he said with a shrug, not preoccupied at all. So far there had been no explosions on the Gryffindor tower or near the dungeons (that you’d heard) and after a few other booms, the novelty of the incident died and some of the students on other years –everyone that did not own a fireworm– went back to the things they’d been doing before hand.

“I’m so going to fail,” said Michael as he pulled on his hair and shook his head in disbelief. “All we had to do was keep them alive.”  

“Loser!” Said Snape as he stared at the smoke. 

“Say that again, Severus Snail!” jeered Michael as he turned around, clearly pissed at his comment. 

“That’s enough,” Spellman commanded, but neither cared to listen. 

“Call me that again and see what else blows up.” 

“Your face will,” retorted Michael, as he pulled out his wand and pointed it towards Severus.

Nightshade had slowly walked right in front of the boy, and in a much calmer, and yet somehow equally threatening voice said, “Michael Stradlater!” 

He looked at Snape, clenching his jaw and wand still high up in the air. Severus stared at him angrily as he looked at her from the corner of his eyes and then focused back on him. He took a deep breath and slowly pulled his wand down. “He started, Miss!” 

“Not my fault he can’t keep his fireworms alive,” Severus insisted, he was in a terrible mood, and being called Severus Snail only made it worse. On the other hand, Michael was devastated over his worm, not because he was overly attached to it, but because he was failing Care of Magical Creatures and needed the extra points keeping him alive would have bought. He aimed his wand against Severus again. 

“Michael,” Seraphina said again, it was rather impassive. Voice soft, but a clear warning regardless. The boy didn’t relent this time. 

You looked at Remus and smiled, he knew you were up to something even before he brought your hand to your mouth and pulled on the fingers of your glove with a bite and removed it, digging your hand in the snow. 

“Professor, I’m really sorry but I cannot–” A snowball surged through the air and fell right on Severus’ face. Michael looked at the scene completely shocked before he allowed his wand to fall back down as he bent over with laughter. 

“Who the hell–” Severus started, but then another snowball flew through the air and fell on the side of Michael’s head, which got Severus to scoff. Remus was not wearing his gloves at this point either. “Is this funny to you?” Severus asked as he looked around annoyed. 

“Plenty,” said Evan as he threw a snowball straight at his face. 

Severus seemed even more offended that his housemate had thrown a snowball at his face than anything, but then a rouge snowball from Sirius fell on a random student and since he thought it had been someone else, he retaliated towards Imogen and Alice, who of course wouldn’t stay with their arms closed. 

Less than 10 snowballs later, a fight had ensued. There were snowballs falling on the fires and on the food, and even the students who had been trying to read a book, or work on homework (which of course there were some) had now joined. Remus and Sirius and you had started out as a team, until Sirius accidentally threw a snowball at Remus and he retaliated with one towards him that ended up falling on your arm. 

Eventually, Sirius was focusing solely on Remus and Remus on Sirius and you decided to pull back a little since you had already gotten like 10 balls clash onto you in the crossfire. It was as you stood close to the lake, using a spell to make about 20 snowballs at once, that someone with a disillusionment charm passed through and pulled you back behind some old stone walls that you assumed had been some ancient building that the school hadn’t cared much about maintaining.

“Hey Reg,” you said when you noticed it was him. 

He smiled, pulled his head up to make sure no one had spotted him dragging you there and turned back. “How’d you know it was me?”. 

“All my other friends with mad disillusionment skills are in the middle of a snowfight.” 

“Could have been an enemy,” he said in a rather serious tone –you did notice the irony of that thought.

“An enemy wouldn’t have pulled me anywhere nearly as gently as you did.” You shrugged.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, casting a spell around the two of you so you were both now invisible, but somehow he’d managed to make himself visible to you and vice versa.

“You have to teach me that trick.” 

“So you fill the school up with more toads?” 

You gasped in surprise. “What makes you assume it was me?” 

“You weren’t at the Great Hall when chaos ensued, as if you knew it was going to happen.”  

“You were looking for me?” you asked tilting your head to the side with a teasing smile. But Reggie’s face made you realise he was not in the same spirits as you were. “What?” 

“I wanted to talk to you.” 

“That does not sound like good news whatsoever,” you said, somehow still half-jokingly but with an almost strained tone, as you didn’t want to hear what would happen next. 

Regulus took a deep breath and then turned back to you. “After the Christmas party… they thought I’d helped you.” 

“But you tried to stop me!” 

“They didn’t believe you knocked me out just like that…  Evan and Crouch were also on the line.” 

“But the wand I gave Barty–”

“It didn’t matter,” he said. “Arkalis for some reason thought Evan would protect you… Of all people, can you believe that?”

You tilted your head to the side and let out a low “hmmm”. 

“Wait, you can?” 

“It’s a long story. But Arkalis believes I hooked up with him.” 

“With Evan?” asked Regulus. He might have not been in the class but he very well knew about the animosity you had towards each other, and he also knew about him and Barty.

“It’s a long story,” you repeated. 

Regulus shook his head and sighed before he spoke again. “Anyway, we had to convince them that we all hate your guts.” 

“Couldn’t have been hard for those two,” you joked, but Reggie didn’t seem to loosen up after that either, he was tense still. 

“How are you?” He changed the subject. You were about to say you were fine but he didn’t let you speak. “Really.” 

You swallowed. 

“I see you’ve been using her wand.” 

You stopped breathing for a moment, not knowing exactly how to respond to that. “Better than I was then,” you said honestly. “I’ve… so much has happened since. It’s been crazy but the boys have been there for me, through and through. You?” 

He smiled when he heard you. He could tell you weren’t lying. “We convinced them we never helped you.” 

There was an apprehensive way in the way he said it as if he’d had to do something awful to achieve it. “What did they–” Your words got caught in your throat as he rolled back his sleeve. 

His pale arm had been tainted, marred with a symbol that it took you no more than a second to recognise.  A snake with a skull on top, exactly like the one you had seen up in the sky when he persuaded you to stay outside. For a second you wondered if your mother would still be alive had you actually listened to him. It was a terribly destructive thought that you knew you shouldn’t allow to roam in your mind for too long unless you wanted to be back where you’d been before the mirror.

You took it in your hands and pulled it towards you. “Reggie,” you said, afflicted as you looked at his arm. “Did it– Did it hurt?” He stayed quiet, clenching his jaw, which was enough for you to know it had. 

“He can call us whenever he wants now. That hurts more.”

“Can’t we remove it?” 

“I don’t think it’s possible, dark magic is involved. Like a curse.”  

“All courses can be broken,” you said with determination. “Sirius is way better at that than me thought, perhaps we can talk to him and–” 

“No!” he let out in a rush.

“No?” 

“Sirius’ animosity towards me was one of the things that convinced them that I wasn’t on your side. Evan also used Sirius as his excuse to not helping you. And while we’re supposed to pretend to be friends with you at school, it’s only to keep an eye, and make sure you don’t interfere again, if not…” 

“I get it,” you interrupted, not wanting him to say the words that both of you knew would follow. “But, your brother he, you won’t be able to make up with him. I know he’d like to have his little brother back, Reggie. He misses you.” 

“Very peculiar way he’s got to show it,” he responded sarcastically, in a way that was incredibly reminiscent of Sirius himself.

“You’re no better than him.” 

“Well, he shows you he loves you.”  

“He’s still angry about the stuff that happened that summer,” you explained. “But he misses you still.” 

“He has James.” 

You sighed, you weren’t sure how to respond to that. “He needs to think you’re on their side?” 

“There’s nothing more convincing than his scorn,” he said coldly, you could see it hurt him either way. 

“And I? Must I pretend to hate you too?” 

“No,” he said as he shook his head. “We’re meant to keep an eye on you, remember?” 

“So I shouldn’t be surprised if I end up with Slytherin satellites?” 

“I doubt anyone will take it seriously. Except perhaps Mulociber and Severus since–” 

“They too?” you asked in shock. Both of them already hated your guts. Perhaps as much as Barty and Evan had before Christmas. 

“More than me, Evan and Crouch, even. Since they got in themselves, not through their family connections.” 

“Shit.” You said as you thought to the fact that Severus had seen Remus and Sirius in the bathroom.  Would he be scared enough just with Sirius’ threats to leave that fact alone? Would he go running to inform Orion? Did he even have a way to contact Orion? What would the Blacks do if they found out? 

“Yeah,” he agreed. He wanted to ask you how you were coping. Especially about your mother, she’d seen how much closer you were to her than to your father, and while he would have been almost pleased to have Walburga out of the way, the way in which you had defended Avis was enough for him to know it wasn’t like that for you at all. “I’m sorry about… everything that happened on Christmas.” 

“I’m sorry about this,” you said as you placed your hand over his arm again, rubbing your thumb over the mark, as if that would wipe it from his arm. “And everything they made you do after Christmas.” 

Perhaps it wasn’t the nicest thing to bond over your sorrows, but at least, Regulus had someone he could talk to. You had always had James and Lily and all your other friends to bond with, but Reggie could not talk about any of the things he thought with almost any of the Slytherins. He could trust no one, he didn’t want to risk it. 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said as he looked at the mark. “I’m on your side. I’ll always be on your side.” 

You knew he meant it. From day one, even if reluctantly, Regulus had been on your side. And something deep inside told you that he would be till the day he died. And while it was reassuring to know that you had friends who would stand by you no matter what, you had also seen first-hand what standing by you no matter what could do to them.

“Stay safe,” you retorted. “Don’t put yourself in harm’s way for my sake.” 

“Would you even listen if I asked that of you?” he said with a small, almost teasing-like smirk that reminded you just how much of Sirius’ little brother he was. Sometimes even the way he walked was so reminiscent of Sirius that you had –upon seeing him by the corner of your eye– thought it was him. 

“Do as I say, not as I do!” you retorted with a smile as well. Reggie was bringing down his shirt sleeve and buttoning it as neatly as if it had never been pulled up. 

“Hypocrite.” 

“I’m older, I get to be one,” you added teasingly, he actually smiled after that, it was a genuine smile. Almost a twin to Sirius’ except his was a little brighter. You wondered if someone would ever make Reggie smile like his brother, you hoped there would. 

“You really should have been a Slytherin.” 

“Don’t go around saying that, you might get beaten up by James,” you smiled. And pulled your wand out of your pocket before smiling and passing it over to him, he looked at you with narrowed eyes. And then you smiled. “Careful, you’ll get cold.” 

“What?” he asked, confused. 

You smiled and pushed him gently so that he wasn’t covered by the rocks anymore. “Hey!” you said in a voice that didn’t quite sound like you. “Regulus is hiding over there!” 

Regulus gasped and then turned to you with a shocked smile. Now that was the kind of smile you were looking for. “You traitor,” he mouthed as several snowballs crashed against him. Three on his arm, one on his face that made snow splatter and colour a good deal of his hair white, and then one on the side of his leg. 

You winked and picked up a ball yourself, throwing it towards him. “Go on seeker, let’s see if you’re as good at avoiding small balls as you are chasing them!” 

He smiled and shook his head, rolling down on the snow and picking a ball before throwing it straight at your face, even if you were still invisible. 

“You were saying?” he asked with a smile. 

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Since we're getting close to the end, I'm planning to do a reread (10-15 chaps left) + heavy revision once we're done (still a few months from there but it's probably going to be done sometime this year) because I want to make my own printed version of it (probably on Lulu), and perhaps a cute epub file? It will probably contain pictures, fan art, and other bonus material. Either way, if you want to collaborate, either in the revision or in bonus content, please don't hesitate to hit me up. Sidenote: please check out this ANNOUNCEMENT regarding some alterations to the posting schedule for the rest of the month.

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[actually-safer-to-kiss]

See How It Shines

Summary: Spencer gets home from work to find Reader in tears over the new Hozier album.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff and comfort

Content warnings: The masterpiece of Hozier’s Unreal Unearth, me stopping halfway to listen to the entire album, me crying to every song I reference

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: shoutout to anyone who picks up on every song reference I make. I am instantly in love with you.

Spencer had been etched with the weight of unsolved cases and the relentless march of time, and he was forced to call it a night around six. The team had already pulled an all-nighter earlier in the week, so Hotch decided they all deserved rest. Spencer, however, wasn’t tired (he was; it was the late cups of coffee). Nevertheless, he makes it to his apartment door, skipping every other step. As Spencer turned the key in the lock, a soft melody flowed from the other side, haunting him yet drawing him in.

When the door opens with a slight creak, the music only grows. The living room was a sanctuary, bathed in the golden hues of twilight and table lamps, together casting long, ethereal shadows across the aged wooden floor. Plants adorned the walls and shelves. Since you moved in, he has never shared a space with so many simple living things.  His record player, a testament to decades of shared music between him and his mother, spun its vinyl tale. This time it was for you, as it breathed life into the album as you sat on the couch in a nest of blankets.

Ah yes, it was Hozier day. The anticipated album release of Unreal Unearth. His girlfriend highly anticipated it. She had been vibrating as the week drew to a close with five days left, then three, then one. And it was well worth the wait, considering the tears continuing to streak her face as the Irish man begged for someone to not fall away from him.

Spencer set his bag down by the door and proceeded toward the couch with caution as if he were ready to pounce like a predator on prey. Except the end resulted in a tender hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him with a puffy face and snotty nose. It was Spencer’s next instinct to grab a tissue from the end table and offer it to you. Of course, you took it. And even though the answer was obvious, he still felt the need to ask, “Are you okay?”

It was a struggle for you to inhale, so you blew your nose again. "I didn’t expect this to be a breakup album.” The album sleeve was wrapped in your arms, proving to already be a prized possession. The tracklist was organized by the layers of Dante’s hell they fell under.

Spencer gave you a small smirk before placing a kiss on your head. “Well, I’ll go ahead and get started on dinner.” It was his turn to take the culinary reins for tonight. “Do you need anything?”

“I need to know who this woman is, Spencer.” You throw your head back as Hozier hits a high note that neither of you has heard from him before. You stay there as you ask, “Who made this man feel so much pain?”

“You want to fight Hozier’s ex-girlfriend?”

“Ew, no.” Your nose scrunched. “I just want to know how. The power to make a man feel this way.”

Spencer chuckled. He had answers. And he’s happy to not reply with any of them. “I’m making chicken parmesan. That okay?”

You nodded, soon returning to singing about holding a heart like a steering wheel. But you then grabbed his hand. Your eyes are red, and Spencer is sure you’ll need drops before the end of the night. “Did a part of you die the first time I called you ‘baby,’ Spencer?”

Spencer couldn’t help but smirk as he quirked a brow. “Do what?”

“They’re song lyrics.” You let go of him.

Spencer has never fully understood the uproar that comes with Hozier. Then again, no one really flocks to Beethoven and Chopin like they used to. Plus, Vivaldi wasn’t known for belting out in the middle of his pieces and Spencer can at least admit Hozier’s belts ( well, the ones he’s heard so far) tug at him by the chest. He came back to his senses quickly when his mismatched socks landed on the cold tile. He washed his hands and opened the fridge door with his good knee.

Songs of water and knives reminded him he had chicken to wash and cut. And the familiar feeling in his own kitchen gets the tasks in Spencer’s head in order. He could feel the weight of his week slowly lift, replaced by Spencer attempting to chop to the song. It was inefficient. Some songs play shockingly fast for a breakup album. He settled for a more percussion style of noise, making each slice more deliberate as a testament to his meticulousness.

The flour and breadcrumbs sizzled in the oil that mingled with the sight of you matching the pitch of the song and humming where Hozier shouted, caressing the album sleeve like it was alive and needed your warmth. The weight of the lyrics settling in your bones caused your head to fall in shock as a long, high note carried through the whole apartment.

The album played on, weaving tales of love and loss, each one successfully targeting your core and striking effectively. And when Spencer got into the groove of his own routine in the kitchen, he listened to the lyrics as they almost guided him to autopilot, reminding him of the joys that come with his leg around you in bed, ensuring you don’t move anywhere except closer to him. And how the idea of losing that is something he does not care to dwell on for long.

He could keep it together, he thought.

Until his voice soars about the glistening of an animal’s eyes. About the force of love for someone recklessly in the middle of the street. Spencer couldn’t help but feel a lump forming in his throat. It was a visceral reaction—Spencer's sniffle. But it wasn’t unheard.

You turned your gaze toward Spencer, your eyes soft with understanding. You could hear the emotion in his breath and the slight catch in his throat. “Spencer?” You asked.

“I’m fine.”

Your lower lip quivers with a puffy smile. “You’re crying.”

“No, I’m chopping. Chopping while completely fine.” His sniffles continued to give him away (sanitary stations over pride every time).

You couldn’t help but find the situation adorable. You lazily got up from the couch, letting one of the blankets slide off with you, dragging along behind you across the wood floor and then the tile. You carefully put your hands around his waist because safety comes first. You squeeze him, and he laughs a little. For a moment, he puts his left hand on your arm, keeping it there. You noticed how his fingertips were colder than expected as you looked at the cutting board from under his arm. “So basil makes you cry? Is that it?”

Spencer laughs again, diverting his gaze from the record player and clearing his eyes from unshed tears. “Today, it apparently does. There must be some emotional properties I didn’t consider.”

“Nothing to do with an Irish man singing his heart out?”

Spencer rubs his nose on his sleeve. Fuck sanitation right now; he’s about to go through it. The snot is evident. See how it shines, indeed. “Is he really singing about roadkill?”

“Yep.” You sniffle in return as you lay your head on his back.

“Fuck.”

“I know.”

“How does he do it?”

“That I don’t know.” You held Spencer as he let the music hit him. Taking moments to turn from the food to wipe his tears.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: so. this wasn’t a fic i planned on writing but kind of needed to, in order to just process some shit. i had the same thyroid surgery a couple of years ago, but only had half of it out at the time. i recently had a little bit of a scare that there was something going on with the remaining half (there wasn’t, i’m all good!!) but i sat down ready to write a different andrei fic and this one came out instead 😬 it’s kind of funny, because i wanted to post an andrei fic on the one year anniversary of posting that first andrei fic and it weirdly worked out that this fic is an opposite of that first one - andrei taking care of reader as opposed to her taking care of him after the acl injury. anyway, stupidly long note over and just one final thing: i have been so grateful and blessed by all the love for my hockey fics this past year and i’m looking forward to writing more fun fics for you guys 🤍

word count: 6.6k

tw: cancer mention, surgery mention, incisions and scarring mention

summary: when you have a medical scare, it’s andrei’s turn to take care of you

You manage to keep your emotions under control and locked away until you get home and Andrei’s head pops up over the back of the couch, television remote in hand, smile on his face as he asks, “how was your day?”

The words are barely out of his mouth before you’re bursting into hysterical tears, sobs wracking your entire body. Your bag slips off your shoulder and lands on the floor with a thump and you can’t see Andrei’s face fall in fear through your tears. But a second later, his arms are strong around your body, his chest solid under your cheek as he crushes you in a hug.

You’re grateful for it, for his solid presence, because the second he touches you, your knees buckle and he’s the only thing keeping you standing.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Andrei’s voice is thick with fear, one large hand stroking the back of your head. His voice shakes when he asks, “did someone die?”

You manage a shake of your head against his chest, breath hiccuping out of your chest. Your lungs feel tight and you’re pretty sure you’re not getting enough oxygen in on your shaky, shallow breaths. Andrei pulls back slightly and cradles your face in his hands, fingers gripping just slightly too tight. The pressure grounds you and even though you’re still sobbing, your breathing feels easier.

“Solnyshka, please, what’s happening?” Andrei studies you with worried eyes, his accent stronger than usual. His thumbs swipe over your cheeks, like windshield wipers getting rid of your tears. “You’re scaring me.”

“D-doctor called,” you manage to choke out and Andrei’s grip on your face gets tighter. Your stomach swirls with nausea and you’re afraid that you might vomit on him.

Andrei mutters a curse under his breath, your reaction isn’t for good news.

You raise a shaky hand to your mouth and press your fingertips against your lips, muffling your voice as you choke out a fragmented sentence, “b-biopsy was, um, it’s - they said. Oh fuck, um, c-cancer.”

The word hangs in the air between your bodies, dropped like a bomb.

Andrei’s eyes go wide and he stares at you, jaw going slack. “Fuck,” he grits out the curse and you press the heels of your palms into your eye sockets, hard, until you see little white starbursts.

One of his hands slides down the side of your jaw until his thumb is right over the lump just above your collarbone, the cause of your tears. He’d been the one to notice it months ago, pressing a kiss to your skin and mumbling that something felt off. You’d brushed him off, like an idiot, thinking it was nothing until he had mentioned it again a few weeks later, noting that it was bigger. Twice more he had to comment on it before you went to your doctor, starting down a path of blood draws, ultrasounds, CT scans, and most recently, a biopsy.

You feel like an idiot for waiting so long.

Andrei’s lips meet your forehead, a warm kiss stabilizing you. He mumbles something against your skin and wraps his arms around you again in a tight hug. You lean heavily against him, mind going a mile a minute, your doctor’s words ringing in your ears. Without realizing it, Andrei gently ushers you up to your room, helping you strip off your clothes and turning on the shower for you. You blink at him and he cups your cheek.

“Shower,” he says, voice hoarse. “Clean the day off, yes? Then we figure it out. Together.”

You nod, wiping at the tears still sliding down your cheeks. “Please don’t leave?” Your voice cracks. You don’t think you can be alone with your thoughts right now. “Just…just tell me about something. Anything.”

“Okay,” he nods and leans against the countertop, arms crossed over his stomach. He’s quiet for a few moments while you get situated in the shower, hot water running over your face. You splutter out the water when it fills your mouth and tears well up in your eyes again. Andrei’s eyes study you as he slowly begins to tell you about practice, clearly trying to remember each and every little detail that he can to try and distract you.

It sort of works, drawing a faint laugh when he tells you about Pyotr’s latest adventure in the crease, but also your brain can’t stop thinking about the c-word. It’s a constant loop in your brain - “I’m sorry, the biopsy was positive for malignant cells. Thyroid cancer. I’m scheduling you for an appointment in two days to discuss the plan going forward.”

Without you really participating, still in a daze, Andrei turns the shower off and bundles you in a towel, rubbing his hands up and down you arms to get some warmth in your body. He guides you into the bedroom and quickly helps you into sweats, bundling you up under the covers before climbing in next to you and pulling you close so your chest is flush against his.

“You’re shaking,” he comments, squeezing you tightly. Your head is tucked under his chin, nose pressed against his neck.

“She didn’t say,” you mumble, cutting yourself off. “What if it’s - what if it’s bad?”

Andrei shakes his head above you and his fingertips draw nonsense patterns on your back. “It won’t be,” he says firmly.

“But what if it is?” You press him in a shaky voice. “What if I’m like, just -“

“Stop,” he says shortly, interrupting your spiral. You shut your mouth with a little snap. “When do you see doctor again?”

“Two days,” you reply. “The first appointment, eight in the morning.”

Normally your doctor is booked up weeks in advance. The fact that she’s squeezing you in last minute only makes your heart beat faster, nausea churn in your stomach. It must be bad, for her to make sure you get in quickly. If it weren’t, wouldn’t she just let you schedule a normal appointment?

Andrei’s talking, but you don’t hear him over your spiralling thoughts. “Sorry,” you tap on his chest, drawing his attention. “I wasn’t- what were you saying?”

He kisses the crown of your head. “You can have breakfast before? I’ll take you for coffee before we go to the appointment. Is the office near that coffee shop you like?”

“You - wait,” you’re still not really processing what he’s saying, too hung up on cancercancercancer.

“Breakfast before your appointment,” Andrei repeats. His legs tangle with yours.

“You don’t have to -“ you start to say, shaking your head. He doesn’t need to be burdened with your medical stuff now.

Andrei interrupts you with a little pat to your ass. “I’m coming with you, final. No arguing, solnyshka,” his cheek rests against your head and you can feel his hands tremble a little against your back.

“Okay,” you murmur. “No arguing. But you might be late for practice…I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

The thought of going to your appointment alone is terrifying though and you’re grateful that Andrei offered, that you didn’t have to ask. Because you wouldn’t have asked, not when you know he’s busy and distracted with the season. Not when you’re an adult and should be able to handle this on your own.

“Leave to me,” he says. “I’ll handle, okay? Just try to relax now and then we’ll have dinner.”

“I can’t eat,” you reply immediately, your stomach lurches violently. The thought of food is enough to have you ready to rush for the toilet. Frankly, you’re surprised you haven’t already vomited from the sheer anxiety of the situation.

“Then you can watch me eat,” Andrei jokes, surprising a weak giggle from you. You can feel his cheek move against the top of your head with a smile and allow yourself to focus on the steady beat of his heart under your cheek until you fall into a fitful, unsatisfying sleep.

The next day drags and speeds by and before you know it, you’re waking up at 4:30 in the morning on the day of your appointment. You try to stay quiet on your side of the bed, so you don’t wake Andrei up - there was a game last night and he’d gotten home late - but he’s more attuned to you than you realized. His hand slides over your hip, squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into the dark. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

His eyes are still shut and his voice is low and hoarse with sleep, but Andrei’s lips curl up in a sleepy, lazy smile. “Didn’t wake me,” he mumbles into the pillow as his hand finds yours. You lace your fingers with his, feeling the ridges of his knuckles with the pads of your fingers. “Don’t want you nervous alone.”

“Thanks,” you manage to choke out the word around the lump of emotion lodged in your throat. Andrei tugs on your hand and you slide closer to him, letting him tuck you under his arm and bury his face in your neck.

“Sleep again. Alarm is set,” his breath is warm on your skin and his arm is a heavy, reassuring weight over your stomach. You close your eyes and let yourself mimic Andrei’s slow, steady breathing. It’s not easy and your brain continues whirling a mile a minute, thinking about the lump on your neck, the possible treatment, possible long term effects. You just wish you knew already how bad it is.

Andrei grunts next to you, blowing little pieces of hair from your face. “Stop thinking, solnyshka. You’re going to start a fire with all your thoughts,” he kisses your shoulder and pulls you closer, crushing you against his side so tightly it’s almost hard to breathe. You focus on the weight of his arm and the heat of his body until you can feel your heartbeat slow down.

The next time you wake up, it’s to an empty bed and the smell of eggs and bacon in the air. You yawn and stretch out, turning your head to see the time on your Hatch. 6:45, a much more reasonable time to be awake.

A pit sits heavy in your stomach and you scrub a hand over your face, swallowing harshly around the lump in your throat. Just over an hour until you really know what you’re dealing with.

You can hear Andrei moving around in the kitchen and with a heavy sigh, you push yourself out of bed and move on auto-pilot to get ready for the appointment. You take time with your hair and makeup, feeling a little bit better once you start looking like a human again.

“Hi,” you greet Andrei quietly once you head down to the kitchen. He looks up from where he’s scrolling on his phone while eating his first breakfast of eggs and bacon.

“Morning,” he opens one arm for you to come and lean against him. You rest your head on his shoulder and he kisses the top of your head. “Sleep well?”

You lift one shoulder in a shrug and Andrei chuckles a bit. “Snored and drooled all over me,” he teases, “so it was a rhetorical question.”

“I did not!” You protest, a spark of energy flaring while you defend yourself. You push back from Andrei’s side and squint at him, a little pout on your lips.

“Did too,” Andrei grins and when he grabs your chin in his hand to draw you in for a kiss, you know he provoked you on purpose and is happy with the result.

You exhale a scoff through your nose when he pulls back, shit-eating grin still on his face. “Terrible man,” you murmur affectionately.

His grin turns smirky and his hand slides down to rest against the curve of your ass. He pats lightly, a little frisson of heat traveling through your body at the contact. You sigh and lean into him again, not looking forward to leaving the little bubble of your home.

At the coffee shop, you pick at the cinnamon scone Andrei had forced into your hands, crumbs littering the tabletop as you shred it with your fingers. Andrei studies you, chewing on the black plastic straw in his iced white chocolate mocha. You’re startled when he abruptly asks, “where do you want to go this summer?”

Crumbs skitter across the table when your fingers jolt and you blink at him, hands frozen in midair. “What?” You ask, shaking your head and processing. It clicks a second later and you continue, “I…I can’t think about the summer, Drei. I just need to get through today.”

He keeps chewing on the straw and you can’t help but watch his lips as they move. “Solnyshka, when this is over and you’re not going anywhere on vacation, you’ll tell me that we should have planned something,” he smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “So, where do you want to go this summer?”

Tears prickle at your eyes, again, overwhelmed by Andrei’s thoughtfulness. Pausing for time and to make sure your voice isn’t shaky when you do speak, you look down at the massacred scone and brush your fingers together to get rid of the crumbs on your fingers. “Um,” you clear your throat, “I don’t know, really. Nykki and Martin love Mauritius. Maybe there?”

“Whatever you want,” Andrei agrees easily, slurping at his drink. He pushes the napkin with a larger chunk of scone on it towards you. “Eat,” he demands, tone firm.

You take a small bite, just to appease him, but the pastry tastes like sawdust in your mouth.

Andrei holds your hand throughout the entire appointment and you’re grateful for his presence, because you can’t focus on anything your doctor says after ‘stage I papillary thyroid cancer’ and ‘surgery’ and ‘radioactive iodine treatment, just to be sure.’ He squeezes your fingers tighter and tighter as your doctor talks, pointing out something on the black and white images of your ultrasound and CT scan. The blurry blobs could be anything and you honestly have no idea what she’s pointing at.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, blood rushing like you’re underwater, as she explains the surgery you’ll be undergoing. A thyroidectomy to remove your entire thyroid and the cancerous lymph nodes. In and out in the hospital, a straight line cut across your lower throat. A scar unless you’re good with applying Vitamin E oil or Mederma. Possible damage to your vocal cords, but that’s very rare.

“What does your schedule look like in the next month?” She asks, briskly but not unkindly.

You blink at her and shake your head slightly. Andrei looks at you, waiting for an answer. “I, um,” you pause, trying to mentally access your calendar, “I’m open. I just…have to put in the leave time at work.”

“Good,” she says, looking down at the paper calendar on her desktop and running her finger over the boxes, “we’ll schedule your thyroidectomy for a week and a half from today, that’s a lighter day for me. All the pre-op information will be in your portal and we’ll go from there on scheduling the rest of your treatment. Any questions?”

A million.

“No,” you murmur, “um, not right now.”

“Can I stay with her?” Andrei leans forward to ask. “When she has surgery?”

“You can wait in the waiting room while she’s under,” your doctor replies. “And once she’s out of the anaesthesia and discharged, you’ll have to drive her home. She won’t be able to drive for a day or so while the anaesthesia really works out of her system.”

You’re shaking your head. “No, you have work. You have practice and games, someone else will drive me. I’ll ask Nykki…”

“No,” Andrei turns to you with wide brown eyes. “I’ll drive you. I’ll be there, solnyshka.”

You shake your head again, but keep quiet because you don’t want to have a fight with Andrei in front of the doctor. The rest of the appointment is routine scheduling and you leave with your head swimming and a surgery date burned into your brain.

You’re quiet the rest of the day and Andrei doesn’t push you to talk, instead trying to go about your routine as normally as possible. He’s missed practice - “personal reasons” Rod’s quoted as saying on Twitter, but “nothing that will prevent him from playing tomorrow.”

The next week and a half feels like a blur - you’re distracted and anxious with Andrei playing three games in seven days, two of them on the road, taking him away from you. He’s back the day before your surgery and doesn’t say anything when you greet him at the door with a tight hug and cling to him for the rest of the night, your stomach growling since you can’t eat, both from the anxiety and the pre-surgical requirements.

“Are you sure about missing the game tomorrow?” You ask later, when it’s dark and you’re buried under the blankets. “I feel -“

“Don’t feel bad,” Andrei rubs small circles over your back. “I made decision. Rod understands. You are more important than the game and the boys promised to win for you.”

A soft giggle escapes into the air and some of your guilt along with it. You hate that Andrei’s missing the game, hate that he’s missing it for you. You hate that everyone seems to know your personal business too, but you know Andrei had needed to talk about what you’re going through too.

His other hand moves up to your scalp and scratches gently, tension seeping from your shoulders. “Get some sleep,” he kisses your cheek. “Early day tomorrow.”

“I love you,” you whisper. “So much.”

Andrei has to practically manhandle you into the car in the morning, making sure you’re dressed comfortably and warm. Your head rests against the window as he drives. “I’ll pick up some groceries while you’re napping,” he says, brushing his thumb over your knee. “Anything you want specific?”

“Butterscotch pudding,” you ask hopefully, smiling a little. You try not to eat a ton of processed foods, but you figure post-surgery you’ll indulge.

“On it,” Andrei grins at you, dimple popping. He looks calm, which reassures you. Once he parks and you enter the hospital, everything speeds up and slows down. Andrei helps you fill out paperwork while you change into the hospital gown and grippy socks.

You fold up your clothes neatly and put them in the little duffle bag you brought along. Andrei catches sight of the pile and raises an eyebrow, “are you not wearing underwear?”

Your cheeks heat up with a flush and you hold the gown shut behind you. “No,” you hiss, “I’m not allowed to. Don’t even start with me.”

“I wasn’t going to,” his smile is a little too sneaky and you try to climb onto the bed in a way that doesn’t leave your entire ass exposed. You fail miserably, if the little wolf-whistle Andrei lets out is any indication.

“I hate you,” you mutter, pulling the sheet up around your legs. You’re both quiet while the nurse comes around to make sure all your paperwork is filled out and signed. Andrei immediately reaches for your hand when the nurse puts the IV line in your other hand - “for the anesthesia, later,” she explains - knowing that you hate needles more than anything.

And then there’s nothing to do but wait.

Andrei’s sitting on the edge of the bed, texting and reading out the messages that the guys are directing to you. “Jarvy,” he says, wincing at the screen, “wants to know if you get to keep your thyroid once it’s removed.”

“Uh, no,” you reply flatly, face screwing up in disgust at the thought of it. “I hate this.”

His hand lands on your knee and rubs it through the sheet. “It will be over before you know it,” he soothes you. “In meantime, Skjeisy says you can join me and him in the cool scar club.”

Your hand subconsciously lifts to your throat, fingers wrapping around it loosely, and you blow out a breath, puffing up your cheeks. “Not a club I really wanted to join,” you say wryly.

You scroll through Twitter absently, a pit of guilt settling low in your stomach when you see the Tweet from the Canes’ account that Andrei’s missing tonight’s game for personal reasons. Your thumb hovers over the tweet, ready to tap on it and read the replies, when Andrei plucks the device from your hands. “Hey!” You protest, reaching for your phone. Andrei pulls it out of your reach.

“No more social media,” he says, tucking your phone in the back pocket of his jeans for safe keeping. With his other hand, he digs a little envelope out of his front pocket. “I forgot, yesterday, to give this to you. But mom sent this and I was supposed to give it to you before surgery,” he settles the little envelope in your hands and you look at it curiously.

Opening the flap, you tilt the contents out onto the palm of your hand - a little gold medallion on a chain. You hold it up to your face and see the tiny icon embossed into the gold. “Who is this?” You ask, rubbing your thumb over the image.

“Saint Anastasia,” Andrei replies, “she was a healer, I think. Mama wanted to make sure you were protected.”

Elena’s gesture of love and concern hits you like a punch to the stomach and you startle both yourself and Andrei by bursting out into ugly, loud sobs. Your face crumples and fingers tighten around the chain.

Andrei lets out a noise of distress that you can barely hear over your crying and rush of blood in your ears. His arms wrap around your upper body and you bury your face in his chest, getting tears and snot everywhere. “It’s okay,” he whispers in your ear, stroking a hand over your hair. “Hey, stop crying, nurses are going to think something is wrong. Shh.”

“I just really love your mom,” you wail into his chest, muffled by his shirt.

Andrei keeps shushing you, alternating with trying to comfort you. You sniffle and pull back, wiping at your face with the back of your wrist. “Better?” Andrei asks, cupping your chin. His lips are drawn down in a concerned frown.

“A little, yeah,” you nod, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping one arm around them. You hold your other hand up, the little pendant dangling from its chain in between your faces. “Can you keep this safe for me?”

He nods and lets you clasp the chain around his neck. The little pendant falls into place against his chest, dwarfed next to his giant cross. You smooth your fingertips over the icon and his cross, lingering for a few heartbeats over the warm metals. Andrei’s hand comes up to cover yours and he squeezes your fingers. “You are going to be perfect, solnyshka,” he mumbles, lifting your hand to his mouth to kiss your fingertips.

“Okay, kids,” your nurse, a cheerful older woman named Monica, appears at the foot of your bed, drawing yours and Andrei’s attention, “one more kiss and then I’m whisking you off to the best sleep of your life.”

Andrei squeezes your fingers again and presses a soft kiss against your lips, mumbling, “see you soon.”

You press your fingers into his chest, digging your nails into the fabric of his shirt, fingers curling like you’re going to hold on and not let go. With a shaky sigh, you release him and manage a brave little smile, “don’t forget my butterscotch pudding.”

He nods, laughing under his breath, and then Monica’s helping you get settled back on the bed and Andrei steps off to the side while a whole little team appears to transport you to the operating room. You twist your fingers together anxiously, stomach turning, and turn on the bed so you can keep looking at Andrei until you’re completely out of the pre-op ward. He catches your eye and winks, waving a little and tapping his other hand over his chest, where your icon hangs next to his cross.

“He’s a real cutie,” Monica comments idly, drawing your attention once the swinging doors are shut behind your little parade and Andrei’s out of sight.

“Oh,” you hum faintly, “he really is. I don’t deserve him, honestly.”

“Now, I’m sure that’s not true,” she keeps chatting as you get situated on the operating table, climbing awkwardly from your bed, trying to keep the gown closed over your ass. “You’re just as cute, even more, I’d say.”

“Thanks,” you laugh a little, the compliment warming the icy block of nerves lodged in your chest. Once you’re laid out on the table, you run a hand over your sternum, breathing deeply.

The surgeon comes in and offers you a warm smile, “I promise, I’m really good at this.”

You’re thrown off a little by the statement and he nods, clearly pleased with himself. “I find that patients always want me to be a little cocky,” he continues, sitting down on a wheeling stool next to the table you’re on. “We’ll be done before you know it and you’ll wake up feeling extremely well-rested.”

“As long as you’ve got the skill to back up your words,” you say, surprisingly reassured a bit by his no-nonsense manner.

Monica pats your hand and grins, “he does. Now, count back from ten and you’ll be back with that sweetheart of yours in no time.”

Your lips curl up briefly and you angle your head away when you feel the little tug on the IV in your hand indicating that the anesthesia is getting attached and started. In your head, you start the count at ten, nine, eight —

“Oh, looks like she’s coming around,” a voice breaks through the dark haziness surrounding you and you try to blink, but your body feels too heavy.

There’s a warm pressure on your hand and you twitch your fingers against it. A little shiver works its way through your body, you’re freezing.

The warmth on your hand moves up your arm - a hand stroking against your skin. “Whenever you’re ready,” the familiar accent washes over you, “I can’t wait to see those eyes, solnyshka.”

A hum forms in the back of your throat and that’s a mistake because it hurts and you let yourself fall back asleep to avoid the pain.

The next time you wake up, the bright lights of the hospital almost force you to close your eyes again. You grumble wordlessly and the noise draws Andrei’s attention from where he’s sitting in a chair next to your bed, scrolling on his phone. He looks over at you and his face immediately breaks out into a wide, dimpled smile.

“Hey,” he greets you, scooting the chair closer and reaching for your hands. His are still warm against your cold ones and it’s nice when his thumb brushes over the backs of your knuckles. “How do you feel?”

Before answering, you take stock of your body and you’re surprised to find that you feel pretty good beyond the pain in your throat. That feels like you’re swallowing knives. “‘M okay,” you manage to mumble quietly, wincing at the stretch of your skin. “C’n I have water?”

“Da,” Andrei pours water into a little plastic cup and hands it to you, plunking a straw in the water. You take a sip and it feels so good going down, the cold water soothing the burning. You sigh happily and sink back into the pillows.

“How’d it go?” You ask, rolling your head so your cheek is resting on your shoulder and you can see Andrei better. Your voice scratches out of your throat, raspy and hoarse like you’d just smoked a pack of cigarettes.

“Surgeon says perfect,” Andrei grins, the crinkles around his eyes deepening. “You did so good, solnyshka.”

His fingers never stop stroking yours and you melt at the contact, glad his the first face you saw when you woke up. “Wonder how bad the scar is,” you mutter, resisting the urge to touch your lower neck, where the skin feels tight and battered. “Can I see?”

Andrei’s hesitation and slight frown before he says, “maybe not best idea right now,” tells you all you need to know.

“Oh my god,” your eyes go wide, panic starting to claw at your chest. “He botched me! I’m botched, it’s a horrible scar, right?”

“No, no!” Andrei shakes his head frantically. “Not botched! It just, with the glue, there’s no stitches. But you can see all the blood. It looks worse than it is, the surgeon said.”

“But it looks really bad,” you confirm and before Andrei can say anything, Monica appears behind his shoulder.

“Look at you, awake and ready to go,” she smiles, effectively cutting off any discussion about your neck, and asking how you feel while filling out your chart. You answer as honestly as you can, voice growing more hoarse the longer you talk. “Well, everything looks really good. We’re going to keep you here for a few more hours and then, if everything keeps looking good, you’ll be back home before dinner time.”

You and Andrei chime a simultaneous ‘thank you’ as she leaves.

“Give me my phone,” you demand and Andrei shakes his head.

“No way,” he taps the back of your hand. “I’ll be your secretary. You’re just going to get upset if you look.”

“I won’t!” You counter petulantly, poking your lower lip out. “I just want to see.”

“When we get home,” he promises and you scowl at him. He effortlessly changes the subject, showing you a picture of Gigi that Martin had apparently sent earlier. You smile at your favorite puppy, swallowing often to try and ease the sharp pain. It doesn’t do much other than intensify the pain and you start to regret it, closing your eyes for another nap.

By the time you’re cleared for discharge, the pain meds have worn off completely and your neck hurts, a dark mood clouding your head. Andrei is patient with you, helping you change back into your sweats and zip-up. You protest the wheelchair an orderly brings around, but you’re told it’s hospital policy and you slump into the seat, crossing your arms over your chest. Andrei runs his hand over the crown of your head as he walks next to you, carrying your empty duffel bag.

Instead of driving his Lamborghini, your Toyota Rav is waiting at the curb and you smile. “Oh thank god,” you mutter and Andrei laughs.

“Didn’t think you’d want to get down low in my car,” he explains, holding out a hand to help you stand and then climb up into the passenger seat. He left a blanket in the car for you too and you take the opportunity to cover yourself up with it while he goes around the front of the car. You wave at the orderly through the window and Andrei starts the car.

“You thought right,” you yawn. It’s a fast drive home and you’re grateful for that, because all you want to do is rinse off and lay down. Considering you’d been under anesthesia for a couple of hours, you’re exhausted. You’re so tired, you forget to flip down the visor mirror to look at your incision.

Once you’re home, Andrei bundles you into the house, one hand solid against your lower back as he guides you up the front path. “I know you want to shower,” Andrei says, “but remember the doctor said not to get the glue wet for twenty four hours.”

You whine, cranky and desperate for a shower. “I want all the gross hospital feeling off of me, Drei,” you pout, toeing off your sneakers and crossing your arms.

He drops your tote next to your sneakers and raises an eyebrow. “I know, you can get in the bath and I’ll wash your hair. We’ll be careful with your neck, okay ?”

Your neck feels stiff and your throat is still sore, but you nod, just wanting to take your Tylenol and relax. When you shuffle further into the house, you spot bouquets of flowers on the kitchen island and gasp. “What are those?” You whisper hoarsely, tears prickling at your eyes.

“Oh, right,” Andrei laughs. “Special deliveries for my girl. The team sent and your office, Neci and Nykki. My parents, your parents, Geno.”

Tears slip down your cheeks and you feel overwhelmed with love. You wipe at your eyes with the heels of your palms and turn to Andrei for a hug. He embraces you easily and you shake your head. “I didn’t want everyone to know,” your throat hurts more when you cry.

“Only the important people,” he says. “Everyone loves you, solnyshka.”

The reminder of how many people are supporting you makes you think of Elena’s gift and you pull back from Andrei’s chest. “Can I have my necklace back now?” You ask in a shaky voice.

“Of course,” he unclasps the thin chain from his neck and hooks it around yours, pleased to see that the chain doesn’t touch your glued over incision. He taps the pendant with the tip of his finger and kisses your temple.

After an unsatisfying bath and a glance in the mirror that shows the dark rings under your eyes and the gruesome looking wound on your neck, you’re more or less clean and you build a nest of blankets and pillows on your bed, tucking yourself into the middle of it all. You have to sleep sitting up or partially reclined for the first night and it’s not your favorite way to sleep, so you prop a bunch of pillows around your head and hope that works. Andrei brings you a butterscotch pudding and climbs onto his side of the bed so you can watch the game.

“My neck looks awful,” you blurt, unable to stop thinking about it.

“It doesn’t,” Andrei replies. “Just for now with the blood and glue.”

“The scar is going to be so obvious in pictures,” you poke at the pudding with your spoon.

“You look badass,” Andrei rolls onto his side and grins at you. “Like a warrior.”

You scowl at him, feeling like he’s making fun of you even though you know he’s completely serious. You jab at the pudding again, suddenly nauseous. “I wish this was it,” you mutter, still raspy and hoarse and you’re really hoping it’s just temporary and that the surgeon didn’t actually fuck up your vocal cords. “But I still have the radiation and then who knows…”

“One day at a time,” Andrei knocks your foot with his. “That’s what you said to me, right? Every time I’ve been recovering, it’s one day at a time.”

He’s right, for each and every one of his injuries, you had been preaching taking recovery one day at a time. You suppose it’s time to practice what you preach now. Still, your anxiety ratchets up every time you think about the c-word, darkness and worst case scenarios dancing in your head. You twist your fingers around a piece of hair, fidgeting as you mind spins.

Andrei’s hand snakes over your thigh, rubbing gently at the soft fabric of your sweats. He rests his chin just above your knee and says, “hey, look at me.” It feels weird when he talks, chin bouncing on your leg, but you look down at him.

“Hm?” You chew at your lower lip.

“One day at a time,” he repeats firmly, refusing to break eye contact with you. When you nod and he’s satisfied, he presses a kiss to your knee and rolls back onto his back. “Who do you think scores first?” He gestures to the TV, trying to lighten the mood in the room.

You play along, wanting to avoid the pain and the scary future for now. Scooping out a bite of pudding and sticking the spoon in your mouth, you hum around the dessert before teasing, “oh, it’s definitely going to be Pyotr.”

Life goes pretty much back to normal over the next few days, you’re back at work and Andrei hits the road with the team. The glue over your incision flakes off and while the cut is a vivid, angry-looking red, it’s a clean, straight line only about three inches long. You’re obsessive about applying Mederma and Vitamin E oil to help the scar fade as quickly as possible. Your voice is still a little raspy, but it’s getting better slowly.

By the end of the week, you’re working up the courage to call your doctor to schedule your radiation therapy session. It’s a terrifying thought and your hands shake every time you think about it. But Andrei had sent a text this morning, reminding you to make the call. And you don’t want to let him down, not after how supportive he’s been. So, you stare down at the contact information for your doctor’s office, wishing you could, like, use the Force to make the call.

Startling you, the phone begins to vibrate on the table, the same contact information you had been looking at flashing on the screen.

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself, blinking stupidly at the phone and swiping at the last second to accept the call. “Hello?”

It’s your doctor, making a personal call, the smile evident in her voice. Within minutes, you’re sobbing with relief as she tells you they ran additional tests on the tissue taken from your neck and while the initial thought and course of action had been to have radiation therapy, the surgeon was confident he had gotten all the cancerous tissue out of your neck.

“You’re cancer-free,” she tells you cheerfully. “I love making these calls.”

“Really?” You manage to squeak out the word around your tears.

“Really. You’ll have to be on a synthetic thyroid pill for the rest of your life and see me every four to six months for blood tests and evaluations,” she explains, “but I am very confident that the malignancy is gone and you won’t need radiation therapy.”

The rest of the conversation passes in a blur and you’re pretty sure the only thing you manage to say is a repeated ‘thank you, thank you, thank you’ before the call ends.

You sit on the couch, shell-shocked, gripping the little icon hanging around your neck.

That’s where Andrei finds you when he gets back from morning skate, tears dripping down your cheeks. Before he can ask, you catch his eyes and beam, “cancer free.”

Andrei lets out an unintelligible, strangled noise of joy and rushes to the couch, swinging you up in his arms and holding you to his chest in a bruising hug. He murmurs in Russian in your ear and you can feel his shoulders shake a little. “I love you,” he murmurs, while you cling to him, “I love you so much, solnyshka. So much.”

His arms are tight around your back and you hook your legs around his waist, not wanting to let go any time soon. Your face is buried in his neck and you’re not sure if his skin is damp from his shower or your tears, but you can’t stop crying.

“Did you book Mauritius?” You laugh wetly into Andrei’s shoulder.

Andrei’s laugh startles out of his chest, echoing around the living room and vibrating through your whole body. It’s your favorite sound in the whole world and you can’t wait to keep hearing it for a long time.

[glowinggator]

Could we maybe get another post for the childhood friends to lovers post, but with Mordecai and the Savoys? Thank you, and I love your work! It's nice to see you back :)

Of course my love, and thank you so much for the kind words!! I had just as much fun with this one -- this trope appears to be my weakness.

HEAVY comic spoilers for Mordecai's bit in particular, and mild spoilers for both of the Savoys.

Enjoy! <3

Mordecai Heller

There’s something to be admired about your persistence. He can’t think of anyone sane, who would follow him through the fires that you have. Who would follow him anywhere, really. He’s not sure why you stuck with him past the first five minutes of meeting on the playground, nevermind the rest of his life. And yet, you did. And he couldn’t be more grateful, loathe as he is to admit it.

He still remembers your little face, wandering up to him on the playground to ask what he was reading, and what it was about. But just how are you meant to summarize the history of an entire empire in a single sentence? If it was possible, he wouldn’t have had to have read the book in the first place! On and on he rambled, and really by now most other kids would have wandered away, but you? He hardly even realized when you clambered up onto the bench to sit next to him, nodding along thoughtfully. He was stunned when he realized you were still there at the end of his 5-minute long synopsis, so when you had follow-up questions? Consider him gobsmacked.

No matter what he tried, he just couldn’t seem to shake you after that fateful meeting.

Not through any of his mannerisms that would normally be offputting to others — if anything, his own “quirks” as his mother called him only made him more endearing to you.

It seems as though you were content to simply share space with him — you didn’t expect anything more than just… him. Drawing while he reads, or maybe picking up a book of your own. Even if your own taste was a bit more… indulgent than his own — what the point of reading such fanciful stories of fantasy and adventure are, he would never quite understand — it was still nice to simply share space, with no further expectations.

And you only stole his glasses once in a blue moon.

He found himself looking forward to your arrival every day, staring out the window eagerly to make sure you got in okay, despite the teasing from his sisters.

He couldn’t shake you when he started bookkeeping, even as his free time grew shorter. Even as he became more secretive.

And when he boarded that train at age 17, terrified and scared of everything to come, he couldn’t keep you from getting a ticket of your own. Packing up your own life to follow him… well, who knows where. Anywhere but home. You sat in silence together, all too aware of the gravity of your situation. His pencil snapped under the weight of his guilt, and you simply passed him one of your own, wordlessly.

He doesn’t understand you, and he doesn’t understand the feelings that start to bloom in his chest as he gets older. Why he gets so especially protective over you on runs, why he wants you to stay at home more than anyone else. Why he’s suddenly aware of the bite in some of his remarks, and why he feels the need to dampen them when speaking to you. When Mitzi chuckles about how cute the two of you are together, why he flusters as much as he does. Why part of him doesn’t want to refute the subtext in her words.

He’s too exhausted to pull himself up off the ground one night — germs, germs, germs, he’ll have to fully clean his suit when he gets home, horrible — back pressed against the wall beside you. Unharmed on both of your accounts, but exhausted nonetheless. He closes his eyes, resting for just a moment, when he feels your tail brush against his own… only when he opens his eyes, he realizes that it wasn’t you crossing that invisible line.

It was him.

He closes his eyes again, sighing. But he doesn’t move.

The bond you share together is deeper than the average friendship — its an immutable fact, both to the two of you and everyone around you. You don’t have the words to describe the extent of it just yet, but that’s okay — you have each other. And that’s what matters. And as he basks in the heat that seeps from you into him, he finds himself thankful for your persistence in all things Mordecai.

Serafine Savoy

All things happen for a reason. Fate is woven into every action, every breath, guided by a certain higher power. Every step she takes, every path she dodges, and every person she meets — it’s all been part of the plan laid out before her. Some decisions are more important than others, but you? You are the pinnacle of it all.

She still remembers your little face, illuminated by fireflies in the hot summer night. She clung loosely to Nico’s hand as they trounced in the fields, away from that place and evidently, you had the same plan. You couldn’t stand to stay there, living under the guidance of adults who couldn’t be bothered to really care about you. She stepped forward, reaching her hand out towards you, and the three of you linked. Inseparable from that point onwards.

It was never a question of if she would have survived without your presence in her life — you were simply always meant to be part of it, and she was always meant to be part of yours.

Little hands interlinked, wading through the bayou together — animals with gaping maws and razor-sharp teeth parting for you with reverence. Your little hands gathering herbs; her own gathering the carnivorous offerings left for the three of you. You two were always destined to meet… but that doesn’t mean she can’t be grateful for it all. Learning the way of the world with you is a long and arching memory she’ll cherish forever.

Although childhood wasn’t always so serious. Because as fondly as she looks upon those early days of learning and practice, she looks upon the innocence of your little games just as tenderly. Little feet falling against the ancient wood floors of your home, hands reaching out to tag her before sprinting back down the hall.

Tiny hands braiding water hyacinths into her hair, soaking up the one spot in the bayou that light shined through to.

Your shared teenage years are thought of just as fondly.

Your shared con games in the city — the spoils of which would be spent that same night, giggling and dancing through the streets. Hands interlinked as you spun around and around, giddy at the adrenaline rush of a game gone right.

There was never any particular moment where she realized she loved you. Part of her just always did. And you can’t say you didn’t feel the same. If you didn’t, then you wouldn’t have braided her hair so lovingly every night, wouldn’t have held her hand whenever you were near, wouldn’t have kissed her every time the sunshine illuminated her beautiful brown eyes. There was no need for stammering “I think”s or “I like”s — you always knew. And so when she pulls you to her chest, carding her hand through your hair before placing yet another kiss on your lips in the pale moonlight, things are simply the same as they ever were. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Nicodeme “Nico” Savoy

Thrashing arms and too-sharp canines digging into tender flesh — that’s how he remembers you as you thrashed in the arms of one of the orphanages’ staff members at just six years old. You refused to enter the line, indignant at the thought of being held in such a place. It was then that he knew he wanted to know you, but it wasn’t until those same staff members tried to separate him and Serafine that he knew how he would. He could hardly get out their plan to Serafine, with her yowls to let her stay with him, she can be a boy, just please let her stay, but he managed. And so when night fell, and the two filed out of their respective housing structures to meet on the street, he was nothing short of ecstatic to see you there, too.

He always liked that fire in you — not just the drive to survive, but to fight. And so when they arrived at their first real home in the bayou, finally safe from the world, finally able to relax… Well, can you blame him for pushing it a little?

Learning the ways of the world alongside you was an experience he would never forget. Wading through the murky waters, learning which animals were sent as offerings for the night’s dinner — hands caked in mud as the two of you took down that night’s meal.

Little hands playfully shoving him into the water, after he slicked a bit of mud into your fur.

He can’t say he didn’t get a kick out of the strength advantage he would gain in his older years — he never quite put down your shared wrestling habits, even as he got into his teen years. If anything, they only got worse when he realized the newfound difference. You never seemed to mind, though — despite it all, you’d still match him, movement for movement, never backing down.

That’s not to say it was all roughhousing, though. No — plenty of nights spent sitting on the moonlit docks say otherwise. Leaning your head against his shoulder as you watched the fish swim around and around, murmuring your thoughts into the shared space. His own arm coming to wrap around your shoulders, despite the humid heat, eager for any and all contact.

That move would become a staple, even as you ventured into the city. Pulling you to him in the streets, murmuring little jokes into your ear to make you laugh… shaking you a bit playfully when you try to keep a straight face, just to break that facade. A well-practiced song and dance between the two of you.

He’s not sure if there was ever a time where he didn’t love you. It was always there, it just took different forms, in the mouths of kittens too young to describe it yet. And so when you lie back on the hotel bed together, pressed chest to chest with the taste of bourbon lingering on his lips, it’s no surprise to either of you when you meet in the middle. It’s just been a long time coming, is all.

[rebouks]

Robin’s first day at school after the winter holidays was just like any other; painful, overwhelming, and slightly boring.

There was a myriad of reasons he didn’t want to be here, but Oscar and Courtney were adamant it was somehow important-.. and mandatory, so Robin didn’t have a choice. They’d become immune to his avoidant shenanigans over time too, no longer were they so easily fooled, even when he’d made himself sick on purpose.

 He’d given up eventually, the worried glances they’d exchange each morning proving to be as tiresome as school itself. Pretending to be fine was better than being shipped off to some snooty shrink again; one who wouldn’t believe him anyway, who couldn’t even imagine the nonsense he was subject to on a daily basis, despite their fancy certificates hanging behind their fancy desks.

Robin was completely mute whilst at school, save for the odd whisper to Jude or sometimes Jacob, if necessary-.. but never Juniper. She was too condescending with her concern and far too obvious. He wanted to fade into obscurity, not be thrust into the limelight by an overzealous cousin trying to do the “right” thing by speaking on his behalf.

He’d resorted to telling her off in the end, her lip quivering as he explained how she was only making things worse. Robin wasn’t sure what had surprised her more, the fact that he was so vehemently opposed to being defended, or that he’d spoken to her at all. She’d acquiesced though, so that was something.

The only person he spoke to properly was nurse Wiles, or Silvia, as she insisted at this point. The cacophony of voices and Robin’s general disdain for being trapped in this hellish building for six hours a day usually resulted in a pounding headache and a disgusting, dissolvable aspirin; he was her most frequent visitor, discounting the child that was practically allergic to everything in sight.

He kept to himself as much as he could, scrawling out enough work to avoid being pulled up and listening to music wherever he could. He had a solid collection of tiny I-pod shuffles and headphones by now, enough to rotate between classes as they inevitably wound up being seized by exasperated adults.

His favourite deception were the decoy headphones, their obnoxious size drawing immediate attention and victorious confiscation. He’d huff and hand them over in defeat, only to thread a smaller more inconspicuous pair beneath his shirt and tuck them under his thick, curly mop as soon as their backs were turned; they were none the wiser, content with their perceived punishment. Robin thought teachers were supposed to be smart…

Though Robin’s long tangle of curls were useful in some ways, they also drew their fair share of unwanted attention. As if being provoked, shoved, tripped, and called “Mutey” wasn’t enough, he was often referred to as a girl, particularly by the other boys.

He wasn’t entirely sure why it was so hilarious, or why it never got old, especially since it was painfully obvious by now that he didn’t give a shit. He was used to being the proverbial punching bag. Being as different as he was obviously made him an easy target, almost as though he had a bullseye permanently woven into the fabric of his jumper.

He’d surmised that they had their reasons for picking on him though; some had parents who were just as cruel, some had none at all, some were desperate to fit in, and some were just too stupid to know any better.

Either way, Robin had decided a long time ago that he’d rather they mithered him with their so-called bullying than risk upsetting some poor schmuck who wasn’t privy to the concealed insecurities that diluted their venomous words and wicked laughter.

Most of Robin’s classes were raucous, yet dull. He could barely hear himself think over the combined clamour of diligent workers and class clowns, and since he could usually glean the answers to any questions from his classmates or the teachers themselves, he never saw much point in trying.

He knew it probably wasn’t great to miss out on the “working out” part of the work, but it was too hard to concentrate even if he’d wanted to. Oscar always helped him with his homework after dinner anyway, so a least he wasn’t going to end up completely lacking in the brain cell department-.. hopefully.

Swimming lessons and PE weren’t so bad, but art was his favourite class of all. Most people got too caught up in what they were doing to daydream noisily or obsess over potentially incorrect answers. There was no right or wrong when it came to creation, and Robin was actually good at drawing, painting, or whatever else his sticky fingers fancied throwing together.

His art teacher even let him wear his headphones during class too, so he’d get to sit at the back of the room in a blissful cocoon of loud music and pencil shavings, wishing every period were this laid back.

All in all, school was utter shite; and at the end of each terrible day when the bell finally rang, Robin was beyond glad that it was over.

Previous // Next

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Arc 2 Part 4

Here's everything I shared during the ask game event with some minor edits. Most of the edits are around the results of the scan, I more accurately described what I was trying to say.

Story Summary: Everything changed the evening Jason met Jazz's brother. Danny introduced him and his entire family to the ghost that is, apparently, haunting him. The ghost of the Robin he had been.

The ghost of the person everyone he's ever known wishes he still was.

All he wants is to make it go away.

Arc 1: First, Last

Arc 2: First, Previous

Word Count: 1.7k

-----

Frostbite looked between them and hummed. “I should like a blood sample from you”—he nodded to Jason—“and an ectoplasm sample from you”—he indicated the ghost—“please hold out one of your arms.”

Jason sighed and gave his left arm. The yeti took out a syringe, thankfully a normal sized one, though it looked tiny in his giant hands. He watched as Frostbite carefully pierced his vein and filled a vial with blood. It went as smoothly as any blood draw he’d ever received from Dr. Thompkins or Alfred.

“You’re good at that,” he commented.

The yeti gave him an amused look. “I should hope so. I have been a doctor for many times longer than you’ve been alive.”

Jason flushed. “Sorry, it’s just… I wasn’t sure how many living patients you’ve ever had.”

“Many ghosts come to us for healing. And of those who were once alive, their ghostly bodies often mimic the ones they had in life. It is not so different, drawing blood from a living body as it is drawing ectoplasm from a ghostly one.”

“Huh. I guess that makes sense. I didn’t realize.”

Frostbite ruffled his hair and it took every ounce of self control he had to not pull away. “That is quite all right. You will learn in time.”

Jason had to bite his tongue to keep from saying he didn’t want to learn.

But the doctor was already turning to the interloper and reaching for his arm. Jason couldn’t help but watch as they made more of those chirps and trills at each other. The ones from Frostbite were much deeper than the ones from Danny or the ghost, but they were unmistakably the same sort of noises.

When Frostbite took the ectoplasm sample, it really didn’t look any different than a normal blood draw. Except the resulting fluid was bright Lazarus-green. He shuddered and looked away.

Frostbite pulled out what looked like a transparent tablet and typed something on it. “A technician will be along shortly to collect the samples and run a few tests on them. Now, Prince Phantom said he scanned you and it showed the two of you are tied together. I should like to repeat the process but with our own scanners.”

“What do your scanners do?” asked Jason.

“I will show you. See this machine?” Frostbite indicated a machine that was positioned in the corner of the room. It looked like an old-fashioned x-ray machine you might find at a dentists’ office. It was about the size of a standing shower and was mostly open. “This part here”—he touched a piece of metal that reached from floor to ceiling—“will circle around the two of you and track your ectoplasm. It serves a similar purpose in ghost anatomy to an x-ray of a human. From the readings, I will be able to assess your core, young Robin, and your liminality, Sir Jason.”

“Just Jason, please.”

“Are you not a warrior of your people? And you are courting Princess Jasmine. No, to call you anything else would be improper.”

Jason flushed. “Then what should I call you? Aren’t you the leader here? Is it King Frostbite?”

“You may call me Doctor or Chief Frostbite should you wish.”

“You’ve got it, Dr. Frostbite. So will you have to scan us together? Doesn’t look like there’s a lot of room in there.”

Frostbite hummed. “I believe three full scans, one of each of you alone and one with both of you together. I apologize for the size; this is the first time we’ve had to scan two individuals together like this.”

Jason scowled, but didn’t comment. He would do anything to get rid of the interloper.

Before they could start, however, a knock sounded on the door. Frostbite opened it to reveal two more yetis.

“Ah, Silverclaw and Snowfur. Thank you for getting here so quickly.” He grabbed the vials of blood and ectoplasm. “These are the samples I want tested.”

“Of course, Chief. We’ll get to work on them right away.”

“I know you will. Thank you.” Frostbite nodded his farewell. Once the two yetis had left, he shut the door and turned back to Jason and the ghost. “Which of you would like to get scanned first?”

Before Jason could even think of volunteering, the ghost let out a trill and flew to the machine.

Frostbite chuckled. “Very well, young one. I shall begin the process shortly. Please remain still as the scan is in progress.”

Jason watched, curious, as Frostbite pressed a few buttons. The machine whirred to life, blue lines lighting up along the metal. Then the panel Frostbite had pointed out before slowly rotated around the ghost. Five times it completed the circuit before stopping in it’s original position by the wall.

A screen lit up on the wall, also transparent like the tablet, and on it images very much like a human x-ray appeared. Only instead of bones, it showed a ball of red-orange light. Tendrils spread out in the shape of a humanoid body. A thick cord of light extended off the screen. The cord was mostly gray and it’s tendrils wound around the red-orange ball and mixed in with the branches that made up the rest of the ghost’s body.

Frostbite hummed, but didn’t comment further, and Jason didn’t know him well enough to know if it was a good or bad hum. “Sir Jason, it is your turn.”

The ghost flew out of the scanner and Jason entered. “Will it feel like anything?”

The doctor shook his head. “Indeed not. You may hear a humming, but the scan itself will not affect you in any other way.”

“So I just need to stand here for a minute while it goes?”

“Indeed. Simply remain still. Are you ready?”

Jason took a deep breath and stood tall, arms by his side. “Go ahead.”

Frostbite hit a button and the device lit up with the same blue light he’d seen before. Then the scanner began rotating around him. As the yeti had promised, he didn’t feel anything but the hum of the machine.

And soon enough, it settled back into its rest position.

Jason didn’t wait for permission before stepping out and taking a look at the results of the scan. The same cord of light that had been coming off the ghost seemed to be stretching to him. Tendrils of it wrapped around the areas where his heart and brain would be if the scan showed human organs. Thinner tendrils stretched through the rest of his body, but the majority clustered around his heart and brain. His light was mostly gray with the red and orange bleeding in.

Chills ran down his spine. The ghost had integrated himself entirely into Jason’s body. Would it even be possible to get rid of him without killing himself? But could he go on living knowing that the interloper, no, the parasite was tied so closely to him? He’d finally started to move on from his death and the anger!

“Calm down, Sir Jason.” Frostbite’s steady voice cut through his thoughts. “We have one more scan and then I shall explain my theories as to what is going on and how we might address the situation.”

Jason gave a single nod and unclenched his fists. He closed his eyes and took a few seconds to go through a breathing exercise Jazz had taught him. “Fine,” he said when he was sure he wouldn’t start throwing out cursed.

Didn’t stop him from stomping over to the scanner.

Frostbite rested one giant paw on his head for a moment. “I understand this is a lot for you. But I will assist you to the best of my abilities.” He glanced away from Jason towards the interloper. “Both of you.”

Jason frowned but didn’t bother mentioning that that was what he was worried about.

“Now, young Robin. If you could come here as well.”

Frostbite took a moment arranging Jason and the ghost within the scanner. This was the closest Jason had been to the interloper since he learned about his existence and the proximity raised goosebumps on his arm. Why did things like this always have to happen to him? He hated it. He just wanted to go back to arguing with Bruce and trading insults with Tim and pranking Dick. But he couldn’t do that if the ghost of who he’d used to be was following him everywhere.

Jason closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the creature’s stupid uniform or too-young face.

Then the humming started again and Jason could only assume he the scanner was running. He held entirely still, both because the scanner needed it and because he and the ghost were so close that if he moved, they might brush arms or touch.

He held back a shudder and didn’t open his eyes until the humming had stopped.

He couldn’t have said who evacuated the scanner first, they both rushed out quickly and set themselves up on either side of Frostbite while the image loaded.

As predicted, it was as if the two previous scans had been put together. The cord connecting Jason and the ghost was thick and strong. It originated from what Jason could only assume was the ghost’s core and spread out until it latched onto Jason’s brain and heart.

Frostbite hummed again. “I will need to ask both of you some questions that you may not want to answer. I apologize in advance for any discomfort my questions may cause. But let us get comfortable first. Afterwards, I shall explain my suspicions.”

Jason nodded and took a seat on the examination bed that Frostbite gestured to. Robin crossed his legs and appeared to sit in midair. The doctor pulled up a chair for himself and settled in.

Even sitting and with Jason on a high bed, they were roughly eye-to-eye due to the yeti’s large size.

“Young Robin, what do you remember of the time between your death and Sir Jason’s resurrection?”

The ghost, of course, only replied in the trilling language, leaving Jason out of the conversation. Asshole could’ve signed if he wanted to. Jason bit his tongue to keep from saying anything, though.

After a time, Frostbite nodded and turned to Jason. “And now, Sir Jason, I must know how you were brought back to life.”

-----

Ah, Jason really isn't going to like this conversation. None of it is fun, but this conversation will be his least favorite.

And look at Robin being just as petty back! Refusing to bring Jason in on the conversation.

How will they move forward from this?

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[oneirataxiahiraeth]

Can you do a Kai Parker x Stefan Salvatore x y/n? lool

Hierarchy || pt.1

Pairings : fem!reader x siphon!KaiParker

Warnings : Vulgar Language, Mentions of threesomes, Mentions of infidelity, Voyeurism, mutual masterbation, Violent, mentions of blood, mention of death, slight exhibitionism, fingering, oral (both receiving), choking, hair pulling, p in v, unprotected sex, jealous!stefan x jealous!kai, FWB, definitely NOT proofread

Word Count: little over 4k

A/N:

I ALREADY HAD THIS IN MY DRAFTS FROM LIKE MONTHS AGO!!! im so glad someone requested it cus it wasn’t sure if you guys would want to see this😭 im making this 2/maybe 3 parts because I have them ready… partially???

   The interest began the first time you met. He smelled you before he was even able to see you. He remembered the day like it was yesterday. You smelled soft and warm, something about the subtle hibiscus in your perfume almost made him comfortable.

     His eyes remained closed, just listening to your soft hums of whatever pop junk they played on the radio these days. He heard the ruffling of the packaging of your first aid kit, right before felt the searing sting of an alcohol pad being pressed into his skin.

   His head was ringing, blood drying on his shirt from the giant gash in his hairline. You were sure if it was from the scuffle with Alaric earlier or the way Ric hit his unconscious head against the tree afterwards. Kai slowly opened his eyes, flinching away from the sting only to let met with soft apologies that sounds surprisingly genuine. You had a soft sultry tone that made his skin crawl. Once his vision stabilized he was met with one of the most angelic faces he had ever personally witnessed. He swore he had finally died and good somehow found it in his heart to forgive him for his sins. Your lips slightly parted with the pink tip of your tongue poking out as you focused on cleaning the wounds before infection even had the chance to form. You offered reassuring smiles  as he made the most snarky comments he and his concussion could think of before your friend came to whisk you away.

   You were torture to be around. Your scent, face, the way you spoke, how you cried, laughed, everything about you stuck with him. You were torture to be around, the very thought of you intoxicating. Maybe it was simply because of the kindness you had shown him from the very beginning that he never experienced from anyone else. Or the innocent nature of your entire being. the way you tensed when a situation turned violent, or how there was this switch in you that flipped so quickly when someone you care about was in danger. He noted how everyone avoided conflicted with you around, as if they all had a hand to play in preserving your innocence.

"Stop staring at me like that" You spoke blandly, feeling your cheeks heating as you glanced at the siphon who simply shrugged in acknowledgement.

   "Can't help it." A smirked crossed his lips, as his fingers traced invisible shapes along the counter tops. "You are just so mesmerizing."

   "Malachi" You huffed, rolling your eyes as you fought a smile.

   You knew about the tiny crush Kai seemed to have. Though he never confirmed it, and you never had the balls to ask, it was something that you felt. Almost everyone noticed it. The way he spoke to you, about you, how he never got your name wrong or even threatened to hurt a hair on your head. Even if you had received a tiny cut on your hand, he would draw from whatever magic he had simply to heal you. Part of him felt obligated after everything you've done for him, and the other parts just felt like it.

    His attraction started off as solely lustful desperation. He took every opportunity to steal the sight of you. He watched while you were sprawled out across the living room floor, feet dangling in the air as you read from a book he didn't care to pay attention to. He was too focused on the way your tongue rested between your teeth when you concentrated hard enough. He could make out every curve in your body, even recognizing you simple by the way you walked. Over time he realized the way he needed you was more than simply physical.

   Even the way you said his name was so special. He didn't like any one else using his full name. When you said it, it was just different... better. Less implications of someone evil, and it almost made him feel human.

   "What's the smell?"

"Strawberry shortcakes." You perked up.

    "Really?" He sat up straight, looking at the mess you made on the counter. "From scratch I see..." and you nodded gleefully, as his eyebrows narrowed in concern.

   You were something of a nuisance in the kitchen. You love baking, and cooking, but apparently the skill did not love you back. You've burned more things than humanly possible, and it was getting to the point where you were barely trusted to pour your own coffee in the mornings. So you stuck to the earlier mornings when everyone would be dead asleep, unable to talk you out of practicing your skills.

   You could blacken as many cookies or cakes as you wanted and they wouldn't even notice unless something was on fire.

  "Hey, i'm doing really good so far!" You defended you actions, turning around to pick up the cooled tray of tiny cakes you made before the sun even rose. "Nothing was set on fire, and I double checked to made sure I used sugar instead of salt this time." Kai chuckled, standing from his seat walking around the counter just to be closer to you.

   "Hmm." He inspected the tiny vanilla cakes, picking some up to see the perfectly baked cake. "They look really good." you smiled brightly, watching as kai nodded in approval. "but do the taste good?" He questioned, setting the cakes back down on the tray.

   "Now that..." You sighed, turning to set the trays down on the counter. "is the scary part."

   "Every chef has to taste their own dish."

"I am way far from a chef, Malachi." You stated.

   "But you're practicing. Definitely getting better too. You'll get there." He smiled, looking down at the warm pot sitting in the counter with what looked to be a black syrup burned into the sides of the pan. "However, it is slightly concerning that your shoe to make... tar on a regular kitchen stove." He gave you a judging glance.

    "I got distracted." You defend.

"You know..." Kai spoke, taking his eyes away from the oddly offensive sight. "if this whole chef thing doesn't work out for you, you could certainly go into modeling. You really know how to work an apron."

  "You just said I was getting better!"

"I was trying the whole optimism thing. Clearly I am a creature of habit."

  "You mean an asshole?"

"I was going to say realistic." Kai shrugged, finding one of the untouched strawberries containers and stealing the most appetizing one he could see.

  You noticed how incredibly close the two of you were standing. You had to look up just to meet the eyes of the siphon, not even caring how he was leaning over you with a devilish smirk on his face. Something about the closeness felt wrong, but watching as juice from the strawberries wet him lips had you feeling a bit faint.

   You didn't have a crush on Kai... at least that not what it felt like. You and Kai were friends. You had been the first, and practically the only person to actually accept Kai into your lives. He was actually very sweet and funny, and not as bad as he tried to make people think. Sure sometimes he made your cheeks go hot, and he said things that made you wondering if he was just being a flirty friend or if he actually meant what he said.

  "Well." You cleared your throat, watching his jawline as he slowly chewed his fruit. "Since you are the world renowned chef with what 3 Michelin star-"

   "5 actually."

"Wow! 5 whole michelin stars! I assume you have some tips about how to make a decent strawberry compote that isn't going to take forever?"

   "Ah" Kai nodded slowly, setting down his strawberry stem. "Yes, actually. The key is an incredibly handsome sous chef who knows his way around the kitchen."

    "Show me."

"You're gonna have to do better than that." Kai snorted, crossing his arms in front of him.

   "What do you mean do better?" You scoffed.

"You want my help you're gonna have to ask veryyy nicely."

  "Fine." you huffed. "Malachi, can you please show me how to make strawberry compote."

  "Eh"

"Pretty please?"

   "Mehhh"

"With a cherry on top?"

   "uhhh"

"I give up" You took a step back, turning to walk away from the siphon but his hand grabbed your wrist before you could move too far.

“aht aht” He shook his head. “I was only messing with you, y/n” His eyes rolled playfully. “you made a commitment and now you’ve got to see it through”

“Funny.” Your eyes rolled at siphon who seemed to be enjoying how flustered he could make you.

“i like messing with you, you’re cute when you’re flustered” Kai smirked, once again making it hard to breathe as you caught his eyes.

From his dilated pupils to the soft mahogany fragrance that always fills the air when he near. It made it hard to think properly.

“What’s going on in here?” A familiar voice interrupted the soft eye contact you managed to keep with the siphon.

Your head turned towards Stefan, standing in the kitchen doorway. His arms crossed, pajama pants hanging low on his hips showing his deep v line and toned abdomen. The lack of clothing on his torso made it very clear how tightly he was flexing his biceps as he glared at the siphon standing too close for comfort.

“Stefan.” You smiled, sucking in a harsh breath.

Stefan was… complicated.

He was noble, reliable, incredibly sexy, and apparently so insanely jealous. You loved Stefan, there was not a doubt in your mind. You’ve had a crush on him for years, but your dynamic in the group together made things too complicated to pursue something serious. Though you never really knew where you two officially began, you had an understanding. It was understood in various late night session where you sometimes woke the whole house with your antics. It was understood when both of you would disappear in the middle of the day only for you to come back covered in marks and bruises, blaming it on being clumsy.

You never really questioned the relationship you two had. You never felt the need…

“Steven!” Kai smirked, tasing his eyebrows at the way the vampire was flexing on his way to stand behind you. “We were just about to start a crash course on making strawberry compote.” Kai winked.

You felt Stefan pressing up against your back, his body heat radiating into you, sandwiching you in between both him and the siphon.

"Looked like a lot more than just talking to me." Stefan crossed his arms.

"Just two culinary geniuses hard at work." He hummed, popping a cube of strawberry into his mouth with a taunting smile that made your stomach turn.

"I'm sure she cut her damn strawberries just fine without your help, Malachi."

"Well a little company never hurt anyone." Kai straightened up at the name. His eyes turning cold, just like they did before he did something merciless. He kept that smug expression on his face. "Besides, sharing a little advice with your friends is common practice now and days correct?" He asked, earning a nod from Stefan.

"Right..." Stefan, stepped around you, directly facing Kai. Your body tensed, as you watch carefully both of their hands. Stefan's hands clenched under his arms, as if he was just ready to swing. Kai was completely relaxed, taking a step towards Stefan as if his life was on the line. "Well let me give you a little advice." Stefan leaned in, his face completely straight. "Walk. Away." His voice dropping an octave lower, nearly wiping the smugness completely off of Kai's face.

The two were basically breathing the same CO2 from how close they were standing. You opened your mouth to find something to say but you came up short. You placed your hand on Stefan Shoulder, which didn't seem to cause him to back down but did relax the tense muscles.

"Green is not a good look on you, Stefan." Kai hummed after a few seconds of deafening silence.

"Maybe not." Stefan shrugged “But to insinuate that i’m jealous of you, Malachi… it would you have something that I want.” Stefan’s eyes narrowed tightly. “And from the way i see it, i think it’s quite the opposite.”

Kai nodded slowly. He didn't speak but something about the way his eyes softened just felt as if he knew he was out matched. He could take Stefan. You seen him do it before, there no reason he wouldn't be able to manage it now. All it took was one touch and he was down for the count. For some reason he just smile, nodding silently as he took a step back, putting space between the two.

Kai sucked in a deep breath, nodding slowly. He didn’t speak but something about the way his eyes softened just felt as if he knew he was out matched. He could take Stefan. You knew he could, you had seen him do it before, and there no reason he wouldn’t be able to manage it now. All it took was one touch and he down for the count. For some reason now, he just stood there as if he was defeated, backing away to put space in between the two of you.

"I'll catch you later, Y/N." Kai hummed, and you nodded without saying a word. The tension in the room still too thick to properly breathe in.

Walking away from a fight he had even a sliver of a chance at was never Kai's MO. He sent a wink to you before turning away, and taking his leave out of the kitchen. Your eyes stayed glued to his figure until he disappeared past the doorframe, the only thing left of his presence is his mahogany and citrus scented cologne.

Stefan turned slowly to you, listening as Kai's footsteps faded further and further away. His face was dark, and almost scary, but something was telling you it wasn't all directed at you.

"I don't want you alone with him."

"He's our friend." You spoke softly.

"No he's not." Stefan shook his head, unable to comprehend what about him was so friendly to you. "He is a predator, looking for his next prey."

"You know how i feel about the whole outcasting thing."

"Not everyone is worth saving, y/n." You felt it as an instinct to nod but you rejected the urge.

"I..." you sucked in a breath, "I know."

"I'm sorry for that, I just... i don't know, I guess I just didn't like the way he was so close to you." His hand came up to your cheek, caressing you lightly. He gave you a soft reassuring smile which you accepted.

"It's alright, Stef."

He turned his head back to the mess on the cutting board and then the tray in the counter behind you before giving you a raised eyebrow.

"Nothing smells burnt... is it safe to assume that those are just store bought?" Your eyes rolled as he smiled widely.

"You are so not funny."

"I think i'm a little humorous." His placed his grabbed your wrist, placing them over his shoulders, before pulling you closer into him by your waist.

"I think you're a dick." You spoke, emphasizing the 'k' which made his smile grow. "When i'm a Rachel Ray famous, on the tv with my own network show i'm going to remember this." You spoke as he laughed.

"If you don't burn the studio down then yeah." He laughed as your mouth open to speak but nothing came out.

Your lips curved into a small smile, using one of your hands to giving him a playfully tap on his shoulder. His hands traveled down to the backs of your thighs, lifting you up immediately with no hesitation. He set you on the counter right next to your mangled strawberries, his lips connecting right in your neck.

You hummed as his tongue glided against your skin, following the curves of your neck, and leaving a wet hot trail behind. You knew what this meant, it was your biggest weakness. Feeling his teeth scrap against your skin sent electricity down your spine. His hands slowly gliding up your shirt, fingers digging into the soft warm flesh, keeping your back arched into him as he nipped at your skin until he pressed his lips against yours.

Something about kissing Stefan was so... light. You loved the feeling of being close to him, it made you feel secure. The way he kissed you was so deep you couldn't help but lose yourself in him. Your moans were soft, barely audible to those who might've been awake even in these early hours. Stefan loved the way were lips chased after his, always searching for his connection.His hands slid down slowly, running down your thighs and coming back up until the reached the waistband of your pajamas shorts, tugging at the string keeping them fit to your body.

"Stef" You eyes widened, pulling away from his kiss watching a smug grin cross his face.

"If you stay quiet, nobody will know." He tutted, planting a soft kiss on the hot skin of your neck. He slowly slid his hand into the waistband of your shorts, his fingers slipping past the band of your panties finding exactly where you needed him to be.

Your eyes closed softly, focusing on the hand placement, feeling a soft bliss as his fingers covered themselves in your slickness. He watched as your face relaxed, feeling his fingers slowly press into your entrance as his thumb pressed down firmly on your clit. Your lips parting as you let out breathy moans as he built a rhythm to get you off on.

"Speak to me, pretty girl."

"Feels so good, Stef." You whined, hips grinding into his fingers allowing him to reach that spongy trigger in the deep of your cunt. Your nails lightly pressing into the skin on his biceps as his fingers sped up in pace.

"so beautiful." He hummed, pressing his lips into the crook of your neck.

Your eyelids fluttering as you relished in the butterflies running rampant in the out of your stomach. High pitched moans escaping your lips as he sucked harsh spots on your skin, dragging his teeth over them to ensure he left a mark so dark not even your most expensive make up could cover up what he did to you. Part of him ran wild at the idea of you walking around with some part of him stuck onto you.

He couldn't let that mangy siphon get away with trying to make moves on his girl without consequences. Since he couldn't necessarily hurt Kai in the way he wanted he knew that this was his best option. There wasn't a single person in this world that could take you away from him and he would've done whatever to make that clear to anyone who needed it.

"Fuck Stef, you feel s'good" you moaned, his thumb pressing harder as you leaned further into his touch.

"God i love when you say my name" He hummed against your skin. His own cock beginning to hardening at the sounds of your pleasure. Stefan removed his finger quickly, smiling at the protest, seeing as you were so close to finishing. "Patience, y/n." He tutted, tapping your jaw with his free hand, smiling at your obedience as your mouth opened, tongue poking out just slightly on command.

He placed his two fingers coated in your juices directly in your tongue. You moaned at the taste, closing your lips around as you began to lap up your own juices. He watched with a grin, slowly gliding the digits in and out of your mouth, watching you clean them off so perfectly. Once he felt like you did a good enough job he took his fingers back, placing a soft kiss on your lips as a job well done.

"Take these off for me baby." He pulled at the waist band of your shorts, watching your eye widen at the suggestion.

"Stef we can't- not right here!" He smiled, pulling you off the counter and back onto your feet. He pulled your shorts down with your panties, and sunk to his knees. You felt light in the head at the sight. "Fuck" You cried as he lifted your leg into his shoulder, immediately diving in.

You tried keeping quiet but it was hard, feeling the way his hands caressed your thighs and ass as his tongue lapped up all the slickness you created. Your bottom lip was caught in between your teeth as you felt your orgasm approaching. His tongue running circles around your clit, sucking it into his mouth every few seconds causing you to cried out.

With all the pleasure on your mind, it was hard to focus, even harder to notice Kai standing in the doorframe. His head peaking over to see what the commotion was, only to see the few locks of Stefan’s hairs caught in your grip as you held him in place. With the addition of his name leaving your mouth in breathy moans, it wasn’t hard to tell what was going on. It had only been a few seconds, glaring at you as if it was a betrayal to your relationship with him.

Even if you weren’t together… you could at least do better than Stefan.

It became harder for Kai to look away. Your chest heaving, a thin layer of sweat glistening on the surface of your skin. Your head lolling back as you got closer and closer into your ecstasy making it to where you don’t really care how loud you were being. Your moans were so soft and delicate, exactly how Kai had imagined them to be. He doubted anyone upstairs could hear, so it was just You, Stefan, and Kai.

He listened to your pleas for release, memorizing every single note in your tone. The sounds of Stefan’s tongue slurping up your slick folds sent shivers straight to his crotch. He felt dirty for watching you so vulnerable but you made it so hard to feel bad. The way you hung your head back so sensually, he burned the images of you into the forefront of his mind so he’d have the sight of you on the cusps of euphoria in his dreams tonight.

“Stef m’gonna cum” You chest huffed, tightening your grip on his hair.

Kai finally tore his eyes away from your fucked out body. His eyes traced to the sweet smelling cakes you pour in the oven to bake. They were ready. but you didn’t seem to be too concerned with the state of your cakes. He watched the way Stefan’s hands caressed your thighs, pulling you closer into him as your whines grew louder.

So he did what any sensible person would in the situation.

"Oh fuc- Stefan!" You yelped as your eyes caught the flames behind the oven glass. Stefan pulled away quickly, turning his head towards the smokey smell, and got up to action.

You rushed, pulling up your shorts as quickly as you could as Stefan ran to the fire extinguisher. You frowned as he dosed the oven and the cakes you worked so hard on. Both of your breathing was labored for a plethora of reasons. You both listened to the rumbling of footsteps hurrying down the steps only to appear seconds later in concerned faces and disappointed glares.

"Listen I actually like living in the house!" Damon began. "I can't live in this house if it's up in flames, okay?" You shook your head, hiding your face in your hands as Stefan walked over to you, wrapping his arms around you.

"I didn't know they were going to catch on fire!" You defended, but no one seemed to be buying it.

"You are banned from this kitchen! Do you hear me? B A N N E D!"

You dropped your hands from your face, looking around the kitchen to see the tired face staring back at you.

"Oh give her a break, she's trying." Stefan tried his best, but secretly agreed with his brother. You in the kitchen was almost asking for a accident to happen. "Look she made those with no incident."

"Stefan. Look at my OVEN!" Damon raised his voice dramatically, as the two began to bicker.

Then you took notice to the siphon in the doorway. Watching everything from afar. His eyes were trained on you, not even budging when you spotted him. He waved his fingers at you with a soft smirk, watching the scene unfold. Something about his relaxed nature and smug attitude just told you he was behind the fire.

You had no evidence. No way to justify your claim, but you knew.

He did too.

[sugurusdiscordmoderator]

your writing is so goooood wahhh the nanami fic had me on my knees, could you write a pizza delivery boy gojo x reader? maybe he's always picking up reader's orders so he can see her or something hehe (can be fluff or smut) ❤

WOOOO ANOTHER GOJO FIC

another college AU - slightly inspired by a story that actually happened in my life (it was less romantic irl and more creepy lmao)

reader is 20ish gojo is 22ish

cw: masturbation, sex?

-

Your sophomore year of college you absolutely scored when you found your apartment. It was on one of the main streets of the city so you could walk anywhere you want to go, hosted parties, and just had fun! The first floor of your building was a pizza shop which you occasionally stopped in; the owner of the shop owned the whole building so he was also your landlord and was a sweet older Italian man.

There was a tall employee that always caught your eye, but he was always working in the back. Most of the time you were picking up pizza your landlords sweet daughter was working the register so you never talked to the white haired beautiful man. However it seems like l you had caught his eye too? No you were just being delusional, he wasn’t staring at you… but how could you be mistaken with those bright blue eyes that you seem to look away as soon as you make eye contact with?

It’s not that you’re shy. It’s just that this man is so attractive your cheeks immediately blush and you can’t even try to talk to him. (hey Siri queue Gorgeous by Taylor Swift)

That is until one day, when you texted your landlord and asked if the delivery guy or someone could bring your order upstairs because you were “sick” (you were just hungover but you looked the part of being sick so whatever). He responds with a no problem and about 15 minutes later you hear an imposing knock on your door, almost entirely too loud for your tiny apartment building. It makes your head pound and even though it’s 4 pm and your hangover is still lingering around.

You mosey on over to the door, sweatpants, Ugg slippers, an ex boyfriends hoodie you kept, with your hair in a braid that definitely needed washed. You open the door, squinting at the fluorescent overhead lights before realizing just who was at your door.

The white haired man with the beautiful cerulean eyes was looking down at his phone waiting for the door to be answered and when he looks up the two of you lock eyes. Suddenly you become aware of just how bad you look and your eyes grow wide at your downstairs crush at your door.

“Are you…y/n? The boss asked me to bring this up to you.” The mystery delivery man asks with a shy smirk and hands you to box.

“Oh thank you yes I’m y/n,” you say fumbling in your pocket for the $20 bill you put in there earlier. “Um here…keep the change,” you awkwardly stick your hand out with the money in it, realizing how hot the pizza box is in your other hand.

“What if I asked for your number as a tip instead?” He smugly asks, now leaning his lanky frame up against your door frame. You bring your eyes up to meet his, trying to find if he was joking by the features of his face. He stuffs the $20 in his pocket and pulls out his phone and wiggles it in his hand, as if to say ‘see?’. Your lips draw into a slight smile seeing his goofiness, “sure,” you giggle making his smile grow wider.

He hands you his phone for you to type your number and name in with your free hand, your other hand still holding up your pizza you’ve been looking forward to.

“Thank you m’lady,” he winks at you when you hand his phone back and pushes off your doorframe and walks away down the stairs. “Text ya later,” he yells up at you from the bottom and you just smile and close your apartments front door, leaning against it and smiling as you open up the box and take a bite.

-

You anxiously await a text from the pizza boy only after realizing you still don’t know his name or his number but he has both of those pieces of information about you. The half eaten pizza box lays on your coffee table while Netflix drones on with a reality tv show in the background. You scroll through Instagram liking everyone’s pictures from the previous night out and daytime party shenanigans. You’re drawn out of your trance like state when you feel your phone vibrate, a message from an unsaved number popping up.

‘hi pretty lady 😘 - your favorite pizza boy’

He still hasn’t given you his damn name so you can’t look him up anywhere. Suddenly all flirting skills have gone out the window and you have no idea how to text back.

‘You’re such a flirt, do you treat all your customers with such kindness?’ you ultimately respond with.

‘only if their name is y/n and they live in apartment 2b :)’ he responds too fast and you’re immediately apprehensive. Why is this beautiful man flirting with you so brazenly out of no where? This smells like a fuck boy situation, but hey, what’s wrong with a hook up or friend with benefits? Maybe it’s time to up the ante and play with some fire.

‘Funny, I haven’t even gotten your name yet and you’re already laying it on thick. Seems to me you’re quite the flirt.’

*one image attached*

‘Am I still a flirt if I made this while thinking about you?’

‘yes actually, more so than before.’

‘fine :( but i need someone to share this with?’

‘I’m literally still working on the pizza you brought up here earlier, take it to the other girls I’m sure you’re also flirting with rn’

‘ouch shots fired’

You stare at your phone screen smiling like a teenager, kind of wanting to get to know this guy a little better. You smirk to yourself before typing out:

‘fine. I don’t want more pizza but I do want to hang out.’

The pizza boys only response for now is ‘😱😱😱’ so you decide to get off the couch and shower for the evening. Washing your hair, shaving your legs and other areas, exfoliating, and making sure you smell extra nice. At least if you don’t see a guy tonight you can consider this self care? After a relaxing 15 minute shower you wrap your hair in one towel and your body in another. You head into your bedroom and proceed to brush out your hair and put on some sweatpants and a sports bra while you get ready. Sitting down at your vanity, you put on a light amount of makeup before blow drying your hair to look “natural” as if you didn’t just spend an hour getting ready.

You start to get dressed as well, taking off your sweats first, when you hear a knock at your front door. Confused, you walk over and look out your peep hole. Oh god, of course the beautiful white haired man knew how to get into your building and just showed up at your door. You crack the door just a bit to stick your head out, embarrassingly saying, “Hey I’m sorry can you give me two seconds I don’t have pants on.”

Without waiting for his answer you close the door again and run back into your bedroom and put on the sweatpants you just took off as well as a light weight tank top that was laying on the bed next to it.

‘Did he really just show up to my door unannounced?’ You think to yourself reaching for your phone. It turns out he did respond earlier while you were in the shower, you just hadn’t looked until you picked up your phone right this second.

‘sounds good, what do you want to do this fine evening?’

You stared at the text, mouth opened, slightly resembling a fish out of water. At least you had gotten your hair and makeup done but it took you an hour of not texting him back. Rushing back to your front door you reopen it to him leaning against the wall on his phone playing a game.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, cheeks flushed, swinging the door open for him to come in before stopping him in the doorway, “You’re not like a serial killer right?”

He throws his head back with a boyish laugh, meanwhile you just want an honest answer, you didn’t think your question was all that funny.

“No, I’m not,” he finally answers after noticing the apprehension in your face.

When you move to let the stranger inside your apartment, you throw caution to the wind and think, ‘well if I am going to die, at least it’ll be by this beautiful stranger?’ (damn reader, I think you would have LOVED Ted Bundy back in his day)

The man stands looking around your joint living room kitchen area, one hand in his pocket, one hand lifting his round black sunglasses from the bridge of his nose to on top of his head, resting among the snowy tufts of hair. He must have just got off an afternoon shift, smelling of Italian food wearing old jeans, a tshirt and converse.

Given it’s about 6 o’clock at this point, the sun has begun to set, setting golden hour aflame through your west facing windows of your apartment. The white walls glow orangish-yellow with tiny refractions from your little plants and decorations lining the windowsill, creating rainbows in random areas across the room. Your tv still hums in the background with a garbage show, before this potential murderer finally speaks up, as if he’s fully comprehended and assessed the room.

“The names Gojo, Satoru Gojo.” He smiles, only needing to take one of his large strides before he’s in front of you ready to shake your hand.

“Thank you for finally telling me your name,” you smirk, having to nearly crane your neck to make eye contact with him.

He wiggles his eyebrows and licks his lips before asking, “so no pizza but you wanted to hang out. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I missed your text when I was in the shower so I haven’t put a lot of thought into it. We can go somewhere to grab a drink or do something or we can chill out here?” You try not to seem too bossy but not too submissive either, and by the looks of it Satoru is as confident as ever.

“Well the boss man gave me some free bottles of wine that I have in my car I can grab and we can watch some of whatever you have on, and maybe re-evaluate in a little if we want to do anything else?” He accentuates ‘anything’ with a wink and you swear your knees could give out.

“That sounds great.”

-

You make some popcorn and grab glasses of wine while Satoru goes to his car and grabs his duffle bag with wine and clean clothes and comes back inside.

“Sorry to ask, but can I take a quick shower? I kinda feel gross after an 8 hour shift.” A slight blush creeps across his cheeks while he pulls out four bottles of wine. He notices the shocked look on your face, “Oh sorry I didn’t know how much you drink so I just brought all 4 bottles he gave me, I figured we could have two each.”

“Two each?!” You laugh as he makes his way towards your bathroom. He smiles back at you before closing the door behind him. You stand up to head to the kitchen counter to uncork one of the wine bottles when you realize that the extra towels aren’t in your bathroom, they’re in the dryer right now! The last thing you need is a naked wet man in your apartment right? You grab and fold one of the towels quickly and hurry over the the bathroom door before knocking politely.

“Satoru?”, you question. “Sorry…I forgot to give you a towel earlier-”

You’re cut off by the door swinging open. The pale man’s almost completely naked save for his boxer briefs which he has no shame showing. You notice a scar across his chest, his perky man nipples, the defined pectoral and ab muscles atop his beautiful v-line, accentuated with a white happy trail running down the middle leading straight to… a bulge.

But like he wasn’t hard no, his soft penis must have been so large but even then he had a pretty big bulge. You wonder what it would look like when it’s -

“Well you answered the door with no pants earlier so I didn’t think it would be a problem here,” he cuts you off, smirking as he watches your embarrassed features. He totally just saw you checking him out, you feel no better than a man!! You hand him the towel before reaching over to close the bathroom door for him, walking wide eyed back over to the couch with a glass of white wine.

You can’t get the shape of his body out of your mind, god you can’t believe he was in there, using your shampoo and soaps and being naked while you’re right here on the couch, not able to witness it. You let the perverted thoughts take over your mind some, thinking about the way his pale skin would look covered in your nail scratches and bite marks. Or how about how perfect his cock must be? Everything else about him was absolutely gorgeous, so his cock has to be the perfect mixture of girth and length with a nice vein or two, and a cute pink tip leaking his precious pre cum right? You think back about his long deft fingers, and much better they’d feel inside you than your own. Being under the spell of your own horniness, you slip your left hand under the waist band of your sweat pants and lace panties thinking about this Satoru guy…slipping your tiny fingers around your swollen clit, giving it a pinch before sliding up and down your folds, collecting your wetness before slipping your middle finger in your tight hole. You close your eyes, slipping the throw blanket from the back of the couch over your lap as another layer of protection in case Satoru is quiet coming out of the bathroom, but he’s not a very quiet person so you’re not toooo concerned.

Although you’ve had intercourse fairly recently, you feel like you’re in the midst of a drought, a withdrawal from being touched. Your skin feels almost itchy, so aroused by this man even though today is the first time you’ve actually talked to him. You alternate playing with your folds and rubbing your clit thinking about how good he must look with the water running down his abs and through his glistening white hair. You think just maybe, you might have time to make yourself cum before he gets out of the shower. After all with how excited you are, it should just take a few minutes. You scurry from the couch to your bedroom gently shutting the door behind you, before throwing your pants off and reaching into your bedside drawer to grab your hot pink little vibrator to help hurry yourself along.

You think you can hear Satoru singing in the showering, making you sigh in relief a little knowing he still probably has another few minutes. Sticking your hand down your lace panties, you press up against your soaking hole area with your middle and ring fingers, while using your other hand to press the vibrator on and turning it up to the medium setting. You rock in and out of yourself at a steady rhythm, thinking about this man being on top of you. God, he just looks like one of those guys that is good at everything he does so you know he must be a great partner.

Letting go of yourself perhaps comes a bit too easy, laying your head back against your decorative pillows, letting out just a tiny whimper. Muffled whistling comes from the bathroom followed by what sounds like something squeaking. You think it’s the water shutting off, and proceed to panicking and switch the vibrator to high to finish while he’s drying off. You feel yourself getting close, reaching extra deep to find your own g-spot. Pushing against it your eyes immediately roll back and you feel yourself getting close to the edge. You do your best to bite down on your lip to keep noises from escaping, with both hands being other wise occupied.

Your thoughts return to the man in your bathroom, drying off, wondering if he’s gotten off to you in the shower right there, before getting a little sad because you wish he would let you take care of him! A particularly loud whimper escapes as your back arches off the bed, your legs threatening to shake violently.

“Y/n…?” Your bedroom door swings open, Satoru Gojo walking in right as you reach your peak. Your jaw drops half out of ecstasy and half embarrassment, closing your eyes and riding out the last few seconds of your orgasm. There’s no point trying to hide or make excuses, you got caught. Not only that, but Gojo’s jaw is also on the floor, the blood rushing to his lower region as he is still slightly moist from the shower but only wearing a new clean pair of boxer briefs.

“I’m - so - sorry -” you pant to him with your eyes still closed, slowly removing your fingers from inside you and turning the vibrating off.

“Fuckkkk, that was so hot!! ,” Satoru wines striding over to join you on your bed. He takes the fingers you were about to your juices off of and pops them in his mouth, staring you in the eyes as he swirls his tongue around your petite digits and groaning in pleasure. “I can’t believe you couldn’t wait for me! Naughty girl, I just - wow- you’re so wet??” Satoru stammers to you, leaning his large frame over your body, blush creeping across his cheeks, but you know your face is even more red.

You sit up and lean back from Gojo, “sorry that was an..accident. You weren’t supposed to see that uh, um, I have a medical condition!! And I have to - you see…,” your embarrassment just digging you deeper into a hole as you reach for your panties and sweatpants on the other side of the bed. It’s not that Satoru seems to mind though, he actually seems kind of impressed.

As you slip your panties on, he sits on the bed giving you space but wraps his arm around your waist, “Hey..y/n… you don’t have to make up a really shitty excuse or anything, I kinda thought it was hot. Like if you want to fuck me you could just say it?” He says almost cockily trying to lighten your mood.

“I’m sorry I just like it’s not lady like? And I didn’t even like go on a date with you or anything yet…not that we have to go on a date first! I just like met you today and I feel like really bad!” You ramble on, both of your heads leaning closer and closer as he strokes your hair to calm you down. He gently guides your head to rest on his shoulder, “don’t be embarrassed babe, it’s not like I haven’t heard you have sex before.”

Your head shoots up, a new wave of embarrassment coursing through you. “Huh - what do you mean?” You stutter out.

“You realize right under your cute little room is the office in the back of the restaurant…right? And the nights when I’m in charge after the old man goes home…let’s just say some of the men you’ve brought home don’t seem to have good rhythm.”

Your jaw drops at this revelation, immediately growing defensive. “And who’s to say your rhythm is better? Besides - I -”

You’re cut off by Satoru taking the lead, his finger up to your bottom lip as to get you to quit nervous mumbling. “Hush hunny, just let me prove it to you.” He gently pushes you back against your bed, his lips finding yours before you can protest. You give in to making out with his cute pink lips, he guides a hand to the back of your neck, taking power over the kiss. You nip at his bottom lip at which he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss further, pushing his tongue into your mouth. His other hand comes to grab at your chest through your sports bra as you grab the sides of his face with passion. He breaks the kiss just by an inch, enough to breathlessly ask, “you’re okay with this right?”

Satoru smirks, knowing he has you in the palm of his hand. Instead of answering, you kiss back, this time taking initiative to swirl your tongue with his. The heated make out section reaches a tipping point as Satoru leans more of his body weight against yours, now your pelvic regions touching. His harder member through his boxers rubbing against your soaked lace panties. The fabric on fabric contact in the sensitive region has you whimpering into his mouth.

“Oh sweetheart,” he says with fake sympathy, “I already have you whimpering and I’ve barely touched you.” You roll your eyes as he uses his long fingers to brush the hair away from your neck ghosting his lips leaving a fraction of a kiss from your jawline down to collarbone. His breathing against your skin makes goosebumps form, before licking a specific spot halfway down your neck, right next to your jugular. He sucks down, ripping another whimper from you, rolling your hips up to cause more friction against his erection.

He smirks against your skin, “I think I found your sensitive spot-” and you cut him off pushing him back up to attach his lips to your neck again. You moan a little more freely this time.

“Uhnnnn, Satoruuuu…please, I need more!”

You whine removing your hands from his hair and creeping down his muscular back, feeling every single defined muscle. You decide to have a little fun, scratching a little harder as you run your hands down before grabbing the waistband of his boxers. “Off,” you whisper and this time he moans, seeming just as affected by you as you are by him.

He sits up to take off his boxers and you take the opportunity to remove your panties again, and your bra this time. You swear Satoru’s pupils turn into hearts when he sees your chest.

“Oh my god I think I’m in love,” he whispers, before leaning in fast and attaching his mouth to the right nipple. He used a lot of tongue and a little teeth, making your buds feel so much better than you ever thought possible. As he switches to your other nipple your eyes roll back.

You reach down through your legs to start stroking Satoru’s hard member. Although you can’t see it with the way his body is situated you can tell it’s massive. Like barely can wrap your hand around it massive and when you go up and down there’s sooo much!

“Can I fuck you please?” Satoru looks up at you with lust filled eyes, a sheen covering his lips and your nipples. He looks like what you could only imagine as a milk drunk baby looking up at its mother.

“Please, Satoru, fuck me,” you respond, running your thumb over his tip and spreading the precum. He leans back to line himself up, and now you can see the full image. The muscular upper body, now littered with a few scratches from you. The snowy fully hair, his eyes blown out with lust looking like he could devour you whole. Plus that beautiful cock you got yourself off to not even 15 minutes prior. It’s just as amazing as the one you made up in your head thinking about him.

You bite your lip and smile as his tip touches your entrance, him squeezing your hip with one hand as the other grips his base. He pushes in slowly and gently, letting you adjust with gentle shallow thrusts until you’re able to manage. “Oh-ohhh my god,” his breathing hitches in his throat? “Oh my GOD you feel so fucking good!” He is acting like he has just won the lottery, taking his time with his thrusts.

You smile up at him as he holds your leg, calf up against your shoulder. He places a tiny kiss along your leg before grabbing your other leg and placing it on his his other shoulder.

“Baby, can I please show you my rhythm now?” Satoru practically begs.

“Mhmmm, please,” you moan, already feeling full to the brim with his cock but needing more pleasure. He excelerates slowly, snapping his hips with high intensity. You feel his skinny hip bones make contact with the back of your legs every time, along with the feeling of his heavy balls slapping against your lower region. You’re in love with his little babbles, you’ve never met a more vocal man in bed. Every few seconds he’s saying “fuck yeah baby,” or a grunt/moan, throwing his head back, or “shit y/n”

Your toes start to curl and he notices, along with the slight tremble growing in your legs.

“You close baby?” He stammers out lowering one hand to stroke your cheek lovingly.

“Yes -toru,” you stammer out, only able to get half of his name out with how out of breath and white hot you feel. His eyes roll back in pleasure at the nickname, moving the hand that was on your cheek down to your clit, rubbing tiny circles on the puffy mound to help bring you over the edge.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” You half moan half chant, barely having possession over your own body at this point.

“C’mon, let go for me y/n, please pretty girl go on and cum,” the combination of Satoru’s words and how he says your name sends you over the edge, pulsing around him, eyes rolled back gripping white knuckled on the sheets.

Seeing how pretty you looked cumming on his cock, Satoru is so close to follow, not even caring that his cum his going inside you (I mean hey you didn’t tell him not to?) he grips your sides as he lets go, a grip that you know will leave 10 little perfect oval bruises tomorrow. All he manages is grunts that border whimpers “so so good, fuck,” he says out of breath, laying down comfortably with you with his cock still in side and giving you both a moment to process what just happened.

“You proved me wrong,” you whisper and he looks at you confused. “That was the best fucking sex I’ve ever had, I don’t fucking care about rhythm or any other man at this point,” you continue, covering your face with your hands and giggling.

He chuckles along with you, “I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever gotten, I maybe should get an award for ‘sex dick given to y/n’”

You giggle more, both of you in your post orgasm mood, just being silly and romantically pillow talking.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” satoru says after a few more minutes of banter, and before you and even go to sit up, he is too fast and picks you up bridal style to carry to the bathroom. He sits you on the toilet and lets you clean yourself as he gets a washcloth with cold water and washes his face, before washing off his now flaccid penis (which still looked good which is really fucking hard to do). Upon returning to your bedroom, putting on clothes again and regaining your composure, you watch Gojo going through your closet.

You tilt your head at him and he answers before you can say a word. “Listen I know this is like the opposite of gender norms but can I borrow a tshirt?” You giggle and show him where you keep them and let him pick.

You settle out in the living room with your glass of wine, bowl of popcorn, and a blanket, resuming your prior plans. He joins you a few seconds later, wearing an old tshirt from high school that has one of the United States presidents on it in a rocking chair that says “JFK ROCKS”

You bust out laughing, not only at that fact it was almost a little too short on him, but also you had no idea where that shirt was or how he found it. He laughs along with you, opening one of the other bottles of wine.

He sits on the other end of the couch so both of your legs are all tangled and cozy , covered by your blanket. “So,” he then takes a bite of popcorn, creating an awkward pause.

You decide to interject first, “I’m sorry that like you saw me getting myself off and that I had sex with you like right after meeting you… you probably think I’m a slut but I’d actually like to get to know you.” You blush and take a sip of wine as he looks like a crazy person, before repeating himself.

“So,” he starts, “what I was going to say is that we need to get some real food and stop at the store and get a plan b, then come back for round 2,” he sips his wine, “also you’re not a slut and even if you are I’m a slut so oh well,” another tiny sip of wine and popcorn, “so this is me doing things a little backwards. Would you be my date for this evening?”

“You’re asking me on a date?” You gawk at him on accident, just surprised with how this whole day turned out.

“Yes I am sweets, now go get a jacket.”

—

very sorry anon February was a rough month (and so is March) for me this has been in my drafts 4ever

[mandos-mind-trick]

Inspiration

Summary: You're a famous romance novel author. Your boyfriend is more than willing to help you get over your writers block.

Pairing: Hunter x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, established relationship, unprotected sex, fingering, teasing, lots of teasing, hair pulling, romance novels.

A/N: You can blame thank @moonlightwarriorqueen for this one. Been thinking about it all day since that ask and I had to write it.

MASTERLIST

You let out a heavy sigh once more, rubbing your eyes. 

“Everything alright?” Hunter asks, stepping into your shared bedroom. 

You let out another sigh, before nodding. “Yeah. Just...can’t quite get this scene right.” 

He hums thoughtfully, crawling onto the end of the bed. “What’s happening in the scene?” 

“Well, the love interest currently has his hand up the protagonists’ skirt in the middle of the kitchen.” You turn to look at him as he stretches out on the bed next to you. “I just don’t know what direction to go from here.” 

“Well, I think they’d both like to cum.” He says, deadpan. 

You slap his chest playfully, rolling your eyes. “Well of course that’s the goal. It’s just how they’re going to reach that goal that I’m unsure about.”

You had been embarrassed at first, when he’d asked what you did for a living. 

You usually were when people asked, either lying or skirting around the truth. It wasn’t shame that brought these feelings forward when you were asked by any means. No, you love what you do. It was more...loathing for the inevitable awkward conversation that followed. 

You had been honest with Hunter, mostly because you knew just by looking at him he wasn’t really going to know what you were talking about. 

Hunter didn’t exactly strike you as being a romance novel reader. 

That’s what you do. You’re one of the galaxy’s most famous romance novel authors. You write under a penname, of course, so no one knows who you actually are. You rarely reveal who you are anyway, only to people you know very well. People you trust. 

You had been right in your assumption about Hunter. Even if he hadn’t spent his entire life training and fighting a war, you doubted he’d be spending his free time reading romance novels. 

You had never expected him to read one of them, after the two of you began seeing each other. 

You wanted to simultaneously melt into the floor and explode when you entered your living room to find him holding up a datapad with one of your most popular book covers on the screen. You’re sure your body temperature went up a few degrees as he’d simply sat there holding the datapad with a raised brow. 

“My Clone Lover?” He’d asked, giving you an exasperated look. 

“They were very popular during the war.” You’d shrugged, shuffling your feet bashfully. “There’s a whole series.” 

“A series?” He’d asked in disbelief. 

You didn’t expect him to have read it already. He’d mostly had critiques of smaller details like the GAR and clones' day to day lives and how much freedom they actually had. You of course being a civilian had little knowledge of the military and war and had only had a few resources to go off of. Though, most of your readers probably weren’t reading for military accuracy. 

He only brought up those parts of the stories after you began to get physical in your relationship. 

Hunter’s a good lover. Despite his inexperience at first, he’s attentive and a quick learner. He learns exactly where to touch, where to squeeze, what spots he can simply run his fingers over that leave you squirming.

It doesn’t take much to work him up, either. 

“I think I can help draw up some inspiration.” He says, his voice pitched low and gravely as he tugs the datapad from your hands. 

He hovers over you, letting the datapad drop to the floor with a gentle thud. He presses his lips to yours, his hand sliding down your side to grip your hip. You hum against his lips, wrapping one arm around his broad shoulders. He presses closer to you as his hand slides down your hip to your bare thigh, squeezing gently. 

“You’ve been getting into the candy stash again.” He murmurs against your lips. 

“It helps me focus.” You giggle. 

“Sure.” He laughs, dragging his hand up your thigh.

“I know you like it when I taste sweet.” You tease. 

He hums again, biting down on your lower lip gently. “I do love the way you taste.” 

His hand pushes your baggy shirt, one of his actually, up around your waist. His fingers are rough on your skin as he slips them under your panties, his middle finger dragging through your folds. 

“Already so wet for me.” He groans, gathering your juices on his finger. 

“Can’t help it.” You moan, gasping quietly as his finger drags over your clit. “You just have that effect on me.” 

“Me, or the thoughts in your head?” He asks, circling your clit slowly. 

“I think about you when I’m writing.” You gasp, fingers gripping his bicep. “That’s what makes it so realistic.” 

He pulls away from your lips, leaning his head on his hand as he stares down at you. His finger continues to circle your clit, slowly working you up. “You base your protagonists’ love interests after me?” 

“To an extent.” You say, fingers digging into his arms as your toes begin to curl with pleasure. “The human ones, at least.” You gasp, hips jerking as he adds just slightly more pressure. “Even some of the other species.” 

He pauses, looking down at you. “Even the Wookiee?” 

“I did say ‘some.’” You roll your eyes. “But I still mostly picture you. The way your hands feel on my body. The way you touch me. The way your cock feels inside me.” 

“You should dedicate your next book to me. ‘To my boyfriend and his magical cock. Thank you for the inspiration.’” He says. 

You slap his arm, letting out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.” 

He chuckles, leaning down to kiss you again. “I’m joking.” He presses his finger into your pussy, making you gasp. “I’m more than happy to secretly offer inspiration for your characters.” 

“Good.” You gasp against his lips, his tongue tangling with yours. “Cause no book will ever compare to the real thing.” 

He groans against his lips as he eases a second finger into you, curling them upwards. You let out a strangled moan against his lips as he finds that spot inside you, your legs squeezing around his hand. 

He releases your lips to press his face into your neck. “The kids are gone for the night.” He says, lips brushing your skin. “Be as loud as you want.” 

Your head falls back as another moan is torn from your lips by his fingers pressing hard against that spot inside you. Your legs shake, walls squeezing around his fingers. “Kriff, Hunter!” You whine, your clit dragging against his hand as he fucks you with his fingers. 

“That’s it, baby.” He groans, licking at your neck as you writhe under him. “Cum for me.” 

You cum with a cry of his name, soaking his fingers. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm until you’re starting to shake from the overstimulation. He pulls his hand from your underwear, pushing himself up to sit as he takes them into his mouth, licking them clean. 

You breathe heavily as you watch him, the damp spot on your panties only getting bigger. He groans as he licks every last drop of your release from his fingers before he’s tugging his shirt over his head, revealing his tattooed chest. You bite your lip, lifting your hips so he can tug your panties off, slipping your own shirt over your head. He kicks his pants to the floor, revealing his hard cock. The tip is leaking already. As you said, he’s easy to work up. 

He moves between your legs, lifting one over his shoulder. You bite your lip as he stares down at you with dark, lust filled eyes. “You look so good under me.” He says, pressing a kiss to your knee. “Look even prettier once you’re fucked out.” 

“Kriff.” You groan as he slips his cock into you. 

He presses all the way into you, folding your body as far as it can. You reach up and tug his bandana off, carding your fingers through his hair. He leans into your touch, and you drag your nails along his scalp. He lets out a groan, a shiver wracking his body. You smirk, tugging lightly on the strands. He lets out a louder groan, his hips jerking, causing his cock to move inside you. 

“Fuck me, Hunter.” You groan, wrapping your other leg around his waist. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, pulling his hips back just slightly before thrusting back into you. 

Your body moves with his thrusts as he sets a steady pace, the headboard knocking against the wall. Neither of you care to be quiet, not with the house to yourselves. You moan loudly as he shifts his hips inside you, back arching off the bed. 

“Just like that!” You gasp as his hips snap into yours. “Don’t stop!” 

You move your hips with his, your hands pressing against the headboard for leverage as you push yourself back against his thrusts. Your eyes roll back as he continues to hit that spot inside you, unintelligible sounds coming from your lips. 

“Feel so good.” He groans, hands gripping your hips almost tight enough to bruise. “Squeezing me so tight. Kriff, gonna make me cum!” 

You drop one hand to your clit, circling it desperately. You squeeze tight around him, one hard thrust from him sending you over the edge. You scream his name, writhing under him as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

“So beautiful. So kriffing beautiful cumming like that on my cock!” He moans, his hips stuttering before he’s cumming inside you with a deep groan. 

“Kriff,” You breathe, shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Hunter groans, letting your legs fall around him as he drops on top of you, just managing to catch himself before he squishes you. You wrap your arms around him, pressing your hands against his back. He always gets sensitive and overwhelmed thanks to his senses, but you’ve figured out ways to help him ground himself. 

You work on steadying your breathing as he buries his face in your neck, pressing gentle kisses to the sweat-soaked skin. You keep yourself wrapped around him, ignoring the feeling of his seed slipping out of your pussy. 

“Feeling inspired?” He murmurs against your neck, rolling you both onto your sides. 

“Hmm,” You hum, carding your fingers through his hair. “I’m not sure. We might need to try a couple more angles.” 

He smirks against your skin, his cock getting hard against your thigh once more. “I think we can manage that.” He nips playfully at your throat. “Always happy to help you with your inspiration.” 

Ye ole Ragu list:

@rosechi @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @wolffegirlsunite @jedi-hawkins @sinfulsalutations @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @clio3kantarella @eris-k @thorsterstrudle @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @sleepingsun501 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @blueink-bluesoul @starrylothcat @523rdrebel @thrawnspetgoose @originalcollectionartistry @gwalchmai2970 @maddiedrmr @sunshinesdaydream @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @mssbridgerton @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @mooncommlink @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @hellhound5925 @commanderblood @crosshairlovebot

[starlazergazer]

Spare Key (Part 2)

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Summary: Part 2 to Spare Key! Could theoretically be read on it’s own though. The reader has full cut Anakin out of her life until a break in at her home leads to her in desperation reaching out to Anakin once again.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 3k

A/N: I really wasn’t planning a part 2 then this idea came to me and when I thought about how much I would love to read it I knew I had to write it. Its mostly a giant piece of fluff of Anakin being there for you in a time of need and comforting you to no end so I hope you enjoy it!

Part 1 Here

This was a very bad idea.

You’d told yourself that you were done with him, that you weren’t going to do the constant cycling between hoping that somehow your situation would change and the crushing realization that circumstances mandated that it couldn’t, that you were stuck keeping Anakin at arms length, somehow too close and not close enough at the same time.

But right now you needed help and a friend, and for better or worse Anakin Skywalker somehow fell in the middle of that venn diagram.

However standing before that jedi temple, not entirely sure how you had even gotten there, you could feel the doubt start to creep in, the embarrassment. You owned a bar for mercenaries, you broke up fights between them for a living, you could handle a break in, some minor stalking, you felt ridiculous for getting so worked up.

But you were tired of dealing with this on your own, tired of being afraid, tired of looking over your shoulder, tired of putting on the brave face and pretending that coming back to find your apartment in complete disarray without anything of importance missing didn’t bother you. And if there was one thing you knew would always be true about Anakin, it’s that he will always be there for you to lean on. And any other day that mere thought alone would break you, send you spiraling into self-pity, but today it was a damn good thing.

With a deep breath you pushed your way inside, immediately noting everyone around you was donned in their jedi robes, shiny sabers bouncing off their hips as they walked, eyes immediately snapping to you as the one obvious outsider, the one who didn’t belong.

Nervously you wiped your palms on your pants only then realizing just how shaky your hands were, how dead of a giveaway they made your mental state.

Balling them up into fists in an attempt to hide them you desperately scanned the area looking for Anakin, not bothering to pay much attention to anything else as you blindly pushed yourself further into the temple until you found him, rounding a corner deep in conversation with a bearded man slightly shorter than him.

The back of your mind knew his name, eager to finally put a face to the famous Obi-wan Kenobi, the rest of you was clumsily pulling yourself towards the pair, never even stopping to consider that maybe you should wait until he was alone.

The jedi master saw you first, his eyebrows immediately drawing in confusion as you approached, his padawans gaze slowly following his until it met yours.

You hadn’t seen Anakin in at least a month, by far the longest you had gone not speaking since you had met, but as soon as you saw the immediate concern on his face nothing else really mattered.

His lips parted ever so slightly as he took you in, his hands coming up reflexively to you though you cautiously stepped back, sending a nervous glance Obi-wan’s way as you forced a more formal tone into your voice, trying to hide every sign of panic you were sure was written clearly on your face “Jedi Skywalker?”

Anakin’s brain took a second to catch up, you could practically feel his eyes scanning you for injuries, barely sparing a glance to his master as his gaze locked to yours, the two of you staying silent for moments longer than was customary. “Uh- yes that’s me”

“I need to speak with you” you hadn’t meant for the words to come out in such a desperate rush, another panicked glance sent to Obi-wan who looked utterly lost as his gaze bounced between you and his padawan “alone if that’s alright”

“Of course right this way” finally the formality flowed into his tone to match yours as his answer came out much quicker this time, again not sparing his master a glance as he turned to lead you away, his eyes staying firmly locked on you as he opened a random door and ushered you inside an empty room, a classroom from the looks of it.

As soon as the door shut he was by your side, grabbing your hands in his, rubbing what he hoped was a comforting thumb over the skin, trying his best to push down his own panic as he felt the shake in your hands “Y/N what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine” you tried to push off the question, tried to ignore the way the lump grew in the base of your throat with each word, tried to ignore just how high pitched your voice was at those words.

“Y/N” Anakin sighed softly, his expression melting as he watched your shoulders shake with tears you refused to let out.

“I-“ but you chocked on your next words, the first sob finally escaping your throat, your hand coming up to clamp over your mouth as if that would bring it back. Instead Anakin’s arms were around you in an instant, pulling you tightly into his chest, and without a second thought you melted into his touch, sobs more freely racking your body as you cried over not just the overwhelming panic but at how easy it had been to go to him, how easy it was to melt into his touch, how easy everything could have been if he just hadn’t been a jedi.

Anakin didn’t say anything as he held you, just rocked you softly back and forth, a lazy hand running up and down your back as you cried, never once pushing you to calm down or explain why you were like this, just letting you be as you were and being there for you. You wished you could hate him for it.

“I’m sorry” you hiccupped softly against his robes once your crying subsided, pushing softly off of him to get a hand up to wipe away the remnants of your tears.

Though he never let you get far, his hands staying on your arms as he let you pull back slightly, his head dipping down to your level “you have nothing to be sorry for Y/N”

You just shook your head at that, forcing out a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood after everything, trying to show him you were alright.

“what’s going on?” he asked softly and though it came out calmly you could feel the desperation behind it, the pleading, to let him be there for you, to let him in.

“Its stupid” you tried to dismiss it again, casting your eyes off of him and to the door, “I shouldn’t have come”

“Y/N-“ Anakin started to sigh but it was then that the full weight of your actions finally hit you, your eyes widening as you untangled yourself from his grasp, putting as much distance as he would allow between the two of you.

“I just walked through the jedi temple looking for you” you said it in almost disbelief “anyone could have seen my eyes, Obi-wan was right there he had to have noticed” you started to spiral, scolding yourself for being so stupid, so selfish, so shell shocked “I should’ve just gone to the police, I shouldn’t have-“

“Woah woah woah” Anakin’s soft voice broke through your train of thoughts, his hands coming up to either side of your face to cup your cheeks, holding your gaze on his “let’s get one thing straight sweetheart I always want you to come to me. No matter where I am even if it's just a papercut if something is bothering you I want you to come to me okay?”

And god how you missed the sincerity with which he spoke, the way he effortlessly calmed every fear with it, the way his skin felt so soft against your own.

“Now what’s going on?”

You could feel the panic spike again but instead tried to push it down, letting your hands come up and grab his, giving them a soft squeeze before pulling them off your face, not yet letting go of them, eyes staying glued to them as his fingers lazily intertwined themselves with your own.

“Someone broke into my apartment”

His fingers froze, his grip on your hand tensing at your words, before he let go, his hands moving quickly to skim over your arms, poking and prodding, looking for any injury he couldn’t see. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did something happen?”

Questions were flying out of him faster than you could answer, not that he really listened to those answers anyways, focusing instead on inspecting every inch of you, careful not to miss a thing.

This time it was your turn to reach up and grab his face, forcing his gaze onto yours, and for a second you just held him there, nose inches from your own, imagining how easy it would be to pull his lips to your own. “Ani I’m fine”

His eyes bounced back and forth of your own, taking a moment and a deep breath before speaking “you promise?”

Nodding your head you reluctantly let go of him, taking a step back, trying not to wish you didn’t have to. “I promise I’m okay”

“What did they take?” he asked softly “do you need anything? I can-“

You cut him off before he could offer anything with a shake of your head “no they didn’t take anything”

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion “didn’t take anything? Just broke into your apartment and made a mess?”

And you debated if you should tell him, debated how he would react, debated if you were ready to entangle his life into yours this much because you knew as soon as you told him he wasn’t going to let it go. You honestly couldn’t remember if that last part was a pro or a con.

“There’s this guy at the bar…” You let your sentence trail off slightly, watching the way Anakin’s gaze hardened on the spot, his jaw visibly clenching as he balled up his fists before him, waiting for you to continue “…I think he’s been following me”

Watching Anakin go through so many emotions at once was like watching an active volcano moments before bursting, a quick steady accumulation of anger, fear, protectiveness. Then there was an explosion “what?!?”

The question came out in a yell, loud enough that you jumped, hands immediately coming up to try and shush him, not needing any more curious glances from the Jedi in the building, Anakin simply swatted the hands away, his jaw set and his tone hard as he pressed on “you’re being stalked?”

“I mean I don’t know-“ you stuttered out trying desperately to diffuse the situation but Anakin cut you off, not having any of that.

“For how long?”

You all but whispered your answer “a few months”.

You could see him get ready to explode again, an angry hand running through his hair as he started to pace back and forth, you couldn’t tell if it was calming him down or working him more into a frenzy. “This had been happening when I met you?”

You tried to shrug it off, act like it wasn’t a big deal “he stopped when you started walking me home from the bar?”

He went silent again, you couldn’t decide if you preferred that or when he was yelling. “Y/N why wouldn’t you tell me”

“He’d stopped” you shrugged again “I hoped that meant he was done, had moved on or something”

“And after I’d stopped,” he pressed on, crossing his arms over his chest “when he started doing it again”

You hated how small your voice was when you answered him. “You would’ve insisted on walking me home for protection.”

His voice was small to match yours, gaze bearing down on you even as you tried to avoid it “would that have been so bad?”

And you could feel the floodgates start to open again because it wouldn’t have been, that was the problem. “It was killing me” you admitted softly “to have you be so close, and be so nice and funny and charming and good looking” you couldn’t help but laugh dejectedly, casting your gaze to the floor “so you…and to still end up alone at the end of the day”

You could see the same old arguments spring to his tongue, the same excuses the same empty promises, but to your surprise he held his tongue, giving his head a small shake as he looked at you “You still look shaken up, do you want to go home or-“ he let the sentence hang in the air, letting you fill in the blank with whatever you wanted.

“Yeah” you sighed softly, hugging your arms around yourself “I’m okay”

“Good” he smiled softly, nodding towards the door “lets get you home”

“Oh that’s okay you don’t have to-“

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to let you walk home alone after this” Anakin cut you off immediately, already prepared for what you were going to say. You couldn’t help but smile softly at that knowing the refusal was empty the moment it came out of your lips.

-

It jarred you all over again to be back home in a way you hadn’t expected it to. Anakin insisted on going in first to clear the place before you came in and he was even going to the trouble of double checking all of your locks.

But to see all your stuff strewn about like that, all your personal belongings, your whole life just lying there on the floor, you were frozen in place.

You heard the sound of a cabinet door closing and looked over into the kitchen to see Anakin pulling out your tea kettle, wordlessly filling it and setting it onto the stovetop before going to grab a mug and some tea, already knowing precisely where everything was in your kitchen.

Without asking he poured the tea and pressed the warm mug into your hand, another hand on the small of your back leading you to your couch. “I’ve got it sweetheart don’t worry” he whispered softly before pressing a quick kiss to your temple and turning to start picking stuff off the ground.

And it wasn’t fair that he knew exactly what you needed without you having to tell him, it wasn’t fair that he knew exactly where you kept everything in your apartment, it wasn’t fair that he called you pet names and kissed your forehead and quelled every anxiety, it wasn’t fair that you felt so damn selfish for letting it all happen.

Your tea was gone before you realized it, the floor clean and everything back in its place much too quickly, Anakin hovering awkwardly above you knowing it was time to leave but not yet wanting to “I think I got everything back where it was but no promises” he chuckled softly, anxiously rubbing a hand on the back of his head “your locks are good just don’t forget to use the chain and deadbolt after I leave yeah?”

You nodded back it him in what you hoped was an encouraging fashion though the doubt on his features told you that it wasn’t.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay here tonight?”

“Yeah” you tried to assure him “I want to sleep in my own bed tonight”

You could see him ready to argue back, see the way he so desperately wanted to, but again he surprised you and held his tongue, giving you a small nod, his eyes looking back around the apartment one more time before sighing “alright, get some rest Y/N”

You nodded back to him again and watched him reach for the door, not wanting him to leave, not just because you didn’t want to be alone but because you wanted him to be here with you. “Ani wait”

He spun around quickly, his eyes finding yours desperately asking you to say something to keep him there, if only for a few minutes longer.

“I-“ you felt the words die in your throat, felt the weight of the world start to crush you as you stared into the exact copies of the eyes you saw every morning in the mirror “thank you”

The corners of his lips tipped up at your words, a smile that never reached his eyes but was nonetheless genuine “anytime Y/N”

And he stayed there for a moment longer, nearly one foot out the door, waiting, wishing you would say more, before relenting, slowly turning back to the hallway.

Your eyes caught a reflection off the coffee table as the door opened fully, flitting straight to a small key left there nearly a month ago, a small key he left there that you hadn’t the heart to touch since then.

“Ani?”

And even though your call had been soft and hesitant he sprang to attention at the sound of your voice, poking his head back through the door, a hesitant foot returning to rest just inside your apartment.

“will you stay with me?”

His face broke out into a wide grin, a slight pink hue even dusting his cheeks at the question which had you smiling in response

“Of course I will”

And you tried to contain your excitement as he came back inside, shutting the door behind him, offering you his hand as he came up by the couch to help you stand.

And for some reason looking at that hand is what caused the doubts to start to creep in again, your mind racing off without your consent, words spilling out of your mouth before you could stop them “I mean but I don’t actually have clothes for you, or a toothbrush, and what if you’re needed by the order or what if they notice you’re not there. Maybe this is a bad idea, maybe we shouldn’t-“

You’re cut off by soft hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you softly forward, and soft lips pressing up against your own. This kiss, this beautiful, unexpected kiss wasn’t quick, wasn’t desperate, it was slow and deliberate, passionate even, dragging out the seconds into minutes for a moment of pure bliss before he’s pulling back all too soon, a soft smile on his face as he hovers mere inches from you searching your eyes for any regret, any resentment.

“Please” he breaths out, his eyes without shame flicking down to your lips before reconnecting with your own “let me stay”

You swallowed nervously, chest rising and falling heavily as you caught your breath, a soft chuckle leaving your lips as a smile curled them “I’d like that”

[c4tgvtz]

How do you think the dorm heads [sorry, idk your character limit is] would react when it came time to send you to your own world? They can be dating or secretly pinning after you, whichever you pick. And thank you for reading =3

🕸 [I shall be web anon, love your writing]

➦Oh oh oh!! This'll be a fun one!! And thank you web anon!! I shall remember you >:))

I planned to write this one properly but it ended up too much for me, so you get a sorta hc list because fucking. Like 7 one shots in the one post is too much//

➳How the housewardens would react to MC going back to their world after pining for months

┍━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━┑

CW: None!

Characters: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus

Genre: Mild angst???

Note: Mmm this one’s a little sad

┕━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━┙

➳ 𝙍𝙄𝘿𝘿𝙇𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙎𝙀𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙎

You were… going home?

Riddle would look at you, confused when you first told him. As far as he was concerned, Night Raven College was your home now… but it seemed you didn’t feel the same.

When you tell him, you would be able to see his whole body grow tense, and his eyebrows furrow slightly. He’d look away, trying to process what was just said to him. After taking a breath, he’d look back and put on a smile. “That’s wonderful (MC), I’m glad you’ve finally found a way to return home.”

You could tell that something was off though. Riddle had been… watching you for some time, and though you probably wouldn’t notice, he had found himself falling for you, and those feelings were starting to get more and more intense… he planned to finally ask you out at the weekend but… now?…

You were going to a whole different world, quite literally a universe where riddle didn’t exist, and that terrified the housewarden! But it pushed his courage back down. He couldn’t ask you out now.

The entire time he’s with you he’d be trying to draw out conversation, in a pitiful attempt to spend more time by your side. He’d make you tea, he’d offer to go out for the day to hang out for one last time but… well you were leaving tomorrow. And there was no time for frolicking about in the rose maze or just having a last wander around the campus.

You would be gone.

The emptiness that the thought gave riddle would be one that he was saddled with for likely the rest of his life… at least he’d never forget you…

He’d make sure to personally accompany you to the mirror that led you home, and right before you go through, he’d pull you close in his arms in a desperate, tight hug. All he can muster up to say is: “I’ll miss you (MC)… please… never forget us… never forget me….”

And like that… you were gone.

➳ 𝙇𝙀𝙊𝙉𝘼 𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙍

Tch… good riddance.

When you tell Leona, he’d just spend a moment looking at you. He looks judgemental, as if finding you weird for leaving or something, but that’s just kinda his resting face.

Instead, he’s actually just trying to process what the fuck you just said to him. What, you were going back to ramshackle? Nah, you wouldn’t be this excited. So did you mean, back to where you came from… before NRC? The more he thought about it, the more he remembered. Oh yeah. That’s right…. You’re from a different world. Is that where you were going?

At first Leona didn’t really have much of a reaction, other than a shrug, but the more you started to talk about it, and the more excited you seemed… his tail started to flick behind him, a hint of a snarl pulled at his upper lip ever so slightly, and his little ears bent back.

It was a feeling he had felt before, yet when he felt it with you it made his blood boil. Jealousy. Jealousy for anyone who would try and take you from him in this other world.

…okay yeah. He had sort of developed a bit of a thing for you, it was no big deal. Or at least, it wasn’t until now. His heart genuinely ached in a way that he had never felt before, and for the first time, Leona Kingschollar felt… vulnerable but of course he couldn’t show that, so he simply shrugged it off.

“It’ll be good to see the back of ya.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes, though it… felt wrong to say. But he couldn’t muster up the confidence for any sort of apology or retraction of his statement. And seeing the way your face fell a little made him want to tear you apart for taking what he said seriously. But there was no telling with Leona.

He made no attempt to force you to stay, but… in his mind, it was all he could think about. He hated sappy romance and all that bullshit, but there was a part of him that didn’t want you to be his partner, but his mate. And that’s how he knew that he liked you. It wasn’t superficial, it was instinctual and raw…

…he actually wanted you.

There would be a ceremony held for you leaving, and the entire time you’d be able to see and feel those harsh green eyes staring at you from the back of the crowd. It would make you uneasy the whole time, but you’d get on with it anyway.

When you get through, you’d realise that your bag felt heavier than it did when you left, and in it, when you open it, you’d find a glass bottle of sand with a letter attached.

It was from Leona…

The letter would talk about how he couldn’t bring himself to actually say goodbye and that he’ll miss you….. Ruggie wrote it for him after listening to him rant…

At least he does actually care…

➳ 𝘼𝙕𝙐𝙇 𝘼𝙎𝙃𝙀𝙉𝙂𝙍𝙊𝙏𝙏𝙊

You… you can’t leave!

Upon hearing the news, Azul would visibly panic, and immediately start trying to convince you out of it before… realising that his own emotions were slipping through. He’d correct himself, fixing his jacket and clearing his throat. “…Apologies.” Hed hum solemnly. “I wish you the best.” His voice was weirdly empty.

It would be easy to tell that he’s upset. When Azul’s in love, he has very little control over what his mind does, and that’s why he gets so distressed by it, it throws a massive wrench in the gears of his mind and messes with everything, but… he couldn’t just stop it.

Standing with you, alone in the Octavinelle lounge, you’d see him look away as he tries to discern his feelings, figuring out what he should show and what he shouldn’t, but it was too late. You had already seen how he freaked out at just the notion of you leaving, so you put your hand on his shoulder as an attempt to comfort him, and at first he flinches, not expecting the contact, but quickly relaxes and just looks at you.

There’s no way he could tell you. Not now. Not ever… it was his secret and it’ll remain that way. Or at least, he thought so. He seemed to have absolutely no idea that it was incredibly obvious he was head over heels for you. Everyone could see it. You could see it. But no one had the heart to tell Azul that his massive crush on the prefect was painfully clear.

Feeling bad for him, you’d take up his offer to spend the day with him, in which he tries his best to “subtly” convince you to stay. Usually, Azul was a master of persuasion, and just being suave in general. But now that desperation was starting to seep into the housewarden’s actions, he didn’t seem as good at it as he should be. Even he was noticing…

In spending the day with him, he’d give you a proper tour of Octavinelle (as if you don’t already know it inside out), play a few games of chess, and have a meal together at the lounge before the night began to roll in. He was running out of time to convince you, but was also… slowly coming to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t see you again. It stung, yeah… but things change, and after his overblot, he was starting to accept that more.

His goodbye would be where he breaks, hugging you to see you off, but you’d find that he wouldn’t let go, and after just a moment… he began to cry. “Please… I need to… I…” his words would barely be choked out behind his sobs, before he peels himself back and with his whole body trembling, he’d confess. “I need to tell you… that.. t-that… I… I love you, (MC)…”

Putting a hand up to cup his cheek, you smile, and he looks back at you, terrified, so scared that you’ll make fun of him or berate him for feeling such a way, but rather, you lean in and gently kiss him on the forehead. He stops crying and just. Stares at you as you tell him you love him too, and then leave… for the last time…

His love was returned, yet his lover would never return themselves… so that was it huh?…

➳ 𝙆𝘼𝙇𝙄𝙈 𝘼𝙇-𝘼𝙎𝙄𝙈

T-take me with you!!

Out of everyone, Kalim would be the most emotionally distraught of them all. When you first tell him, he’d gasp and take your hands in his own, practically jumping off the ground. “You’re going home!?” He would sound more excited than you actually were to return. “That’s great (MC)!! You’ve been trying for so long I’m so glad you can finally see all your family and friends again!” For most people, talk like that would appear insincere or sarcastic, but Kalim was just very vocal with his thoughts.

He’d spend the day with you, asking about what your home was like and learning about you with a bright smile the whole time. Though the whole time, something would feel… off, as if he was missing something, but you had explained that you were returning to your own world, so… maybe he was just happy for you?

“I can’t wait to come with you some time!! You need to come back and visit!” He’d chirp while eating lunch with you. And that’s when it hit you. He didn’t realise it was a one-way, one-off trip… it would take a lot to tell him, but after a moment of silence, you’d pipe up and manage to say.

You’d watch as his face slowly falls as you speak, to confusion. “What?” It sounded so genuine, like he didn’t understand why you couldn’t return. “But… is… is it not like a mirror?… like all the other portals?…” his loud, piercing voice began to grow quiet as his expression melted from confusion to sadness. You shake your head.

He seriously takes a moment after that, and it seems like this is the most he’d ever thought about anything between the whole duration of your stay here. And the entire time he was just silent. It even attracted a few gazes from others in the cafeteria.

“So I… won’t see you again?” His voice was empty and shaky, and it seemed like a light had left his eyes as he looked back up to you, his food now completely forgotten. You shake your head again, and as if that were a cue, Kalim’s eyes began to tear up and his bottom lip quivered.

“You… can’t go…” Usually, when Kalim cried, it was loud and snotty and a nightmare to deal with… but this? This was different, his voice was quiet, a wavering whisper, and his body seemed to shake with fear. He put a hand out on the table, palm facing up. Understanding, you’d put your hand in his and try to give a reassuring smile, but he’d just grab your hand a shakily lower his head.

Every movement looked like it was laboured, as he slowly sat up and raised your hand to his face gingerly, and kissed the back of your hand. He’d look into your eyes, desperation in his own. “Please… I want to go with you… but I can’t leave my own family and friends…” and you’d nod, understanding the predicament. You didn’t particularly want to go either, with how close you had gotten with everyone here.

When the next day rolled around and you had to finally say goodbye, kalim would run up to you, crying far harder than he had been before, and you’d just hold him and rest your head on his shoulder as he cries and cries. When he eventually does calm down, you let go and turn to leave, but he says one more thing before you do:

“Hey! (MC)! Tell people in your world about us! A-and I love you!”

➳ 𝙑𝙄𝙇 𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙀𝙉𝙃𝙀𝙄𝙏

Oh… I had forgotten about that…

Vil would seem… thoughtful, about the whole situation when you tell him. At first it would seem like he doesn’t believe you at all, but then you’d explain exactly how Crowley managed to find you a way home and he’d feel his heart sink.

So he was loosing you?… he’d just stare off into the distance for a minute before sighing and smiling. “That’s wonderful… though it’s a shame that twisted wonderland will be loosing such a beauty…” he’d raise his hand to brush across your cheek, and though that smile would remain on his face, the pain behind his lilac eyes would be easy to spot.

He’d leave you for the day to get your things ready, though while you’re gone, things would be starting to go to shit in Pomefiore.

Vil would end up stressed and upset, causing him to make rash decisions and lash out at his dorm members, leading Rook to take over in running the dorm while a few of the other juniors helped to calm the housewarden down. After about an hour of that chaos, Vil decided that— if he’s never going to see you again, you’d absolutely need something to remember him by.

Immediately, he’d start to try to put together a gift, a way of showing his love at the last minute and hoping that it would last. In the back of his mind, he wondered if it would make you regret leaving, and make everything harder for you, but it was a thought that he shook off. He couldn’t bring himself to dwell on that too much.

Going through his stuff, he’d manage to find a few things he wanted to give you: a beautiful ornate necklace, one with golden charms going down it and a small fake vial of purple liquid as the main charm, a full bottle of his favourite perfume, and a book. It was a book he had memorised inside an out, though it was very dear to him. It was a book of poison recipes.

His only hope was that all of this was enough of a goodbye for you… he put it all in a box, wrapping it neatly and sticking a red bow on the top corner. It looked beautiful, as was customary for a gift from Vil Shoenheit.

He’d spend a while wondering to himself if he should just give it to you and wish you well, or also tell you his feelings. After deliberating that for a while, he decided on a compromise. A love letter would do nicely… So with that in mind, he spent the rest of the night writing out his feelings to you the best he could.

Truth be told, he had always been intrigued by you, but it was only now that you were leaving did he realise just how much he… liked you. Like didn’t quite cut it… no he loved you… and that scared him honestly, which was why he had never even really processed that he did until now, when you were slipping from his reach. He knew there was no way to convince you to stay or to go with you… so this would be his last grand gesture to you.

The day had came. It was pretty late now, and you had spent the whole day saying goodbye to everyone, but Vil was last, and instead of finding him, it was him that came to you, with a beautifully wrapped box in his hands, and a small envelope on top. “Don’t open it all until you’re home safe.” He’d sigh, an odd, unfamiliar affection in his voice. “This is the last time I’ll get to see you…” he sounded regretful as he spoke, leaning in to plant a kiss against your cheek. “But I promise you, it won’t be the last I think of you.”

“I just know you’ll make your world far more beautiful when you’re back…”

➳ 𝙄𝘿𝙄𝘼 𝙎𝙃𝙍𝙊𝙐𝘿

If you’re looking for a reaction, you’re not getting one…

“Y-you really think I’m gonna fall for that?”

The first words Idia said after you told him you were leaving were… jarring. You look at him, confused and a little hurt, but he seems more defensive than anything else. “Look I know you’re j-just trying to embarrass me! Or get me to act all sappy towards you! It’s not happening.” He’d cross his arms and turn away.

Hurt, that one of your good friends wouldn’t believe you on some of the biggest news of your life, you’d leave. But Idia wasn’t trying to be mean, or defensive… he just didn’t want to believe it.

After being with you for so long he had quickly grown to love you. You were the only person other than other that was able to put up with him. You were sweet and kind and pretty and the perfect partner for him… but he didn’t deserve you, you were far too good for him in his mind.

Looking in the mirror, he’d sigh. But that’s when news would get to him… other people were talking about you going home… what? Idia couldn’t believe it. It was real?… you weren’t lying?… now he felt even worse. His stomach turned and his heart dropped straight down into it, and all he could do was just sit on his bed and stare at the wall.

Is this what everything had came to? He had tried to make the right choices! He was sure that he was on the path to the good ending! All the signs were there, and it even seemed like you were starting to show interest in him!…

…no you weren’t. He was being delusional. At least that’s what he told himself. Why would someone like you ever fall for him? He was a complete shut in, an asshole, ignorant, and now? Now he had personally hurt you. What was he worth anyway.

Lying on his bed, he pulled his legs up to his chest, tears pricking his eyes and the ends of his hair flicking red. Of course this wasn’t the good ending, he was a total screw up. This was the worst ending possible, it was so bad that… he had forgotten it was one he could get… you were leaving forever… game over I guess…

The rest of his day would be spent alone, crying in his bed. He’d sent Ortho away to go… do whatever… as long as he wasn’t near him to see his spiral, because things only got worse from there. He couldn’t even bring himself to eat anything for dinner.

Ortho, though he was concerned, wanted to respect Idia’s wishes, so he stayed out of their room until it was late at night and Idia was asleep. It was a good thing he had no idea that he had cried so hard he had sort of just… passed out…

You were standing at the portal. The next day had came, but Idia hadn’t. You wanted to go and say goodbye to him, but time was running out and the portal would close if you weren’t through fast enough. So… no goodbye…

Idia still hadn’t left his room. He didn’t plan to. What’s the point in forming bonds if they always break…

➳ 𝙈𝘼𝙇𝙇𝙀𝙐𝙎 𝘿𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙄𝘼

Leaving?… so soon?

To Malleus, your departure from the school would come as quite the surprise. Though he himself helped Headmage Crowley to find you a way home, he never expected it to be so soon. It had only been about a year, and in the grand scheme of Malleus’s lifetime? That was nothing. To him, it felt like you had only been here a few days.

You were an odd little child of man. He had never really known where you had came from, nor had anyone else, but what he did know was that he didn’t want you to return. He wanted to study you more, and keep you close. He had grown possessive, though you were just friends.

He had strong feelings towards you, which was why he looked so hurt when you told him you were leaving. He wasn’t the only one upset, but it felt like it to him. He tried to brush it off, after all, you were just some human that would barely live a fraction of his lifespan… yet… it was hard to think of you that way.

He’d put his hand on your shoulder and look at you with a rather harsh expression across his sharp features. “I don’t want you to go.” He’d state plainly, making you shift under his gaze and step back. You’d tell him that you’d like to stay, but you have a life away from here that you’d like to get back to. His expression would stay the same.

Being a dragon in love was complicated. Especially if the person you were in love with wasn’t also a dragon or fae of any kind. If that was the case, they saw you as part of a hoard, something beautiful and precious that only belonged to them, and that they must protect with their life.

You were that person to Malleus.

After a decently confusing and… annoying conversation about how you had to return home, Malleus let up and retuned go Diasomnia to let you do your weird human things. He didn’t really know what you were up to.

As he often did whenever Malleus had any grievances, Lilia seemed to show up out of the blue to talk to the housewarden. He asked him what had happened and he relayed the conversation you had had with him. He seemed to understand what he was going through, and gave him the best advice he could:

“Malleus, many people who you care about are going to walk through your life, it’s your job to make the most of their presence while you can, spend as much time as you can with them before they go. I can promise you, it’ll be worth it.”

So he took that to heart, and at the crack of morning the next day, Malleus was at the door of ramshackle, looking for you.

When you answer he insisted that you spend the day with him before you had to leave, and that you did. He helped to pack up the last of your things and mostly followed you around for the rest of the day until it came to your departure.

“Farewell, (MC). May we meet again in another walk of life… my love…”

[kittycatlukey]

“I Love You.” — L.K.

Tagging @alespov ✨

Leon Kennedy x Fem Reader

Part 1/1

Warning: mild language, violence, usage of weapons, death, angst, and some RE4 spoilers!

You and Leon were good friends. Replace good with best. You two confided in each other, protected one another, and were in love but it was left unspoken. But it was obviously felt. There was a pull between you that couldn’t be denied. And anyone with a pair of eyes could see you and Leon cared for each other. You would die if it meant keeping the other alive. That’s what love is supposed to be, right?

“I’ve been waiting for you, rookie.” Krauser flipped his knife in the air and caught it. “Oh, worried about the girl, is that it? Hmm, that’s just like you. You always had poor judgment. You’d better be worried about the one beside you too.” He chuckled, taunting Leon. “But if you think I’m going to let both of you out of here alive… you’re even more naive than I thought. You can’t save them. You can’t save anyone!”

Your heart was pounding against your chest as you stood beside Leon.

“Give it up, Krauser!” Leon yelled at him. “Being a lackey for these maniacs… won’t bring your men back. And what the hell for? Revenge on the government? You think they would want that?”

“Revenge? You think I’m doing all this… for revenge?” Krauser asked Leon, looking down at him.

“Isn’t that what this is all about?” Leon questioned.

“You see, in that jungle, I had a revelation. The most important thing in this world is pure, unadulterated power! Los Iluminados have given me that.” Krauser stated.

Leon responded in retaliation, “You know, you were always an asshole. But at least you had some kind of code, some honor! And look at you now.”

“Enough reminiscing. Move out and draw fire, soldier.” Krauser did a backflip and drew on Leon with his assault rifle.

And for some reason, time didn’t slow, it felt as if time quickened. As soon as I seen Krauser had his gun aimed at Leon, I moved in front of him. I had moved just at the right time.

And I had been shot, taking not one but three bullets for Leon. One hit my left shin, another hit my left thigh, and the last one hit the right side of my stomach.

In that moment, I felt my entire body go numb. I couldn’t feel anything as Leon dragged me behind cover. He then ripped parts of his t-shirt off in an attempt to stop my bleeding, but we both knew it would be futile.

“Y/N, why would you do that?! Taking bullets for me?! Are you crazy?!” Leon had shouted, tears evident in his now reddened eyes.

“I would never let you die, Leon.” I murmured, feeling light headed already. “Get up and kill that sick son of a bitch. I’ll be fine for now.”

Leon nodded, the color had already left his face.

“And hey.” I grabbed his hand, staring into his ocean blue eyes. “I love you, Leon.”

“Y/N… I love you.” Leon spoke, his voice wavering. “I’m sorry.”

And with that, he had went to fight Krauser. The last thing I heard before I passed out was Krauser’s voice.

“Better run, rookie!”

~~~~

My body was shaken until my eyes opened. My eyes fluttered openly slowly; they felt so heavy. At first, my vision was blurry. My eyes took a long time to focus but once they did, I noticed Leon was the one above me.

“You have to stay alive. Please. Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me.” He pleaded before his bloody, calloused hands released my shoulders and cradled my face.

I wasn’t sure if the blood on his hands were mine, his, or Krauser’s. Maybe even a combination of the three.

“Goddamnit, stay awake!” His loud voice forced my eyes open again that I didn’t realize I had closed again.

“L-Leon. I don’t know how much longer I can stay… Just know… that I’ve loved y-you for a long, long time.” I told him weakly. “I’d do anything for you.”

Leon had tears rolling down his face. “I know. And I’d do anything for you… I’ve loved you for a long, long time too.”

I smiled when he said that. Even though I was dying from blood loss, I was the happiest I’d ever been knowing he felt the same way about me, and that he was getting to live. I didn’t care if it costed my life. I had nothing left to lose.

“You killed Krauser?”

He nodded.

“Good. I knew you could.” I replied before closing my eyes again. At this point the numbness had worn off and I could feel each bullet where they were lodged inside me. It felt like my whole body was on fire. “G-Go save Ashley. P-Please.” I spoke but it was barely a whisper. I don’t even know if it was even audible.

“No, no. Please stay with me, Y/N.” Leon pleaded once again, caressing my face. “I love you.”

It hurt me that he sounded so helpless and sad.

“Don’t die on me!” Leon shouted trying to wake me up again.

And this time, I had no choice but to let go…

~~~~

This was a sad one… Sorry about my writing being rusty. I haven’t written anything in about six months. Hope you all liked it though! Love you all! 🫶

If anyone is wondering, college is going great! It’s hard and stressful, but so fun. Just turned 20, and I start clinicals in May. I made the President’s List (4.0 GPA with at least 12 credit hours) each semester I’ve been going. I have some good friends, and have been staying very busy with homework and studying. I have a very important exam that I’ll have to start studying for so send me some positive vibes! They’re very much appreciated. Then my boards will be coming up. But it’ll all be worth it in the end! I graduate this year: December 2024! So excited about that! 🤍🩺🫀

[spooky-pomegranate]

Price, What's Wrong?

Captain Price x Gn Reader Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Price struggles to deal with his emotions after your first mission with the 141 goes terribly wrong.

You stood outside the operating room in a brightly lit hallway and stared down at a small crack in the floor. You had been pacing over the same five-foot square of tiles for over two hours now. If someone had given you a blindfold, a pen, and a piece of paper you were confident that by now you’d be able to draw each tile from memory.

The doctors and nurses had tried to convince you and Price to wait in the visitors' lounge. They had told you that Soap’s surgeries would take a few hours and that you’d both be more comfortable waiting there. But Price didn’t care about comfort. He had demanded, and pretty adamantly so, that you both be allowed to stay as close to Johnny as possible. At least until he was awake again. But Price’s demands hadn’t gone over well and things had gotten heated rather quickly. Security had been called to forcibly remove you both from the hall, but a phone call from Laswell had righted the situation before it went too far south. Or at least that was your best guess. You had seen Price wave his cell phone in the air and yell something about “national security” and “highest clearance.” But you weren’t entirely sure what had been said beyond that because ever since getting to the hospital Price hadn’t spoken a word to you.

For two hours he had kept his distance, circling on one end of the hall while you circled the other. Occasionally you would pull your eyes up from the floor and catch a glimpse of him. Even from a distance, he looked more tense than you had ever seen him. His shoulders were ridged, pulled back in a taught line, and his fists were clenched by his side. You caught him rubbing his temples more than once and you wondered if he had a headache. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

Physically Price looked like he’d crawled out of the pits of hell. He was caked in dirt, grime, and blood. There were small cuts on both of his cheeks and one long gash above his left eyebrow. He was limping ever so slightly on his right leg and a fresh bandage wrapped his right shoulder in a thick layer of white gauze. After the incident with security, a nurse had bandaged Price’s injured shoulder. Although he’d been more than a little reluctant to let her. It wasn’t until the nurse had pointed out how unsanitary it was that he had been dripping blood all over the hallway that Price had eventually agreed to let her bandage him.

The entire time the nurse's hands had been on Price you had stared at him, watching his face. He had been completely stoic. There hadn’t been a single glint of pain or discomfort. Just a hardline expression that looked like it had been chiseled into his features. But then for a moment, when the nurse dug a little deeper into his open wound Price’s eyes had met yours and something in them flickered. You had thought that maybe he was going to break the silence and say something to you. That maybe he was going to call you to him. But then just as quickly as your eyes had met he had looked away and you were left alone again to wander your end of the hall with only your thoughts to keep you company.

But then two hours later your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. You turned and saw Price walking towards you. His eyes met yours before he turned and leaned against the wall, his head tilting backward and resting against the wall while his eyes closed. You took a step towards him, concerned, but before you could get close he held up a hand to stop you.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just…give me a minute.”

You nodded, though you weren't sure if Price could see you.

"Are you okay?" you asked quietly.

"I'll be fine," he replied, his eyes still closed. “I… I’m sorry,” he began again, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m so sorry, love.”

“You don’t have anything to apolo-”

“No,” Price snapped and his eyes shot open.

“Price, it’s not your-”

“Don’t!” he interrupted, turning to face you completely. “Don’t do that. Don’t fucking do that. You don’t know what you're talking about. You have no idea and I…I can’t…”

Price’s words hit you like a brick, punching straight through your chest with an unexpected force. He’d never spoken to you like this before. With so much anger. So much rage. Then, before you could do or say anything, Price raised his hand in your direction. You reacted quickly, taking an uneasy step backward and nearly tripping over your own feet. Without thinking you raised your hands to your head and braced yourself for a blow.

But it never came.

“I… Love, I would never… that’s not…” Price’s voice was so quiet you barely heard him. He immediately dropped his hand. His anger deflated in an instant, replaced by a profound sorrow that etched deep lines on his dirt-streaked face. He took a shaky step toward you and timidly raised his hand again. You closed your eyes, this time without an ounce of fear.

You expected to feel Price’s calloused palm against your cheek or his fingers tangle into your hair massaging your scalp. You expected him to comfort you like he had done so many times… but again Price’s touch never came. Instead, you heard a soft thud and you opened your eyes. Price slumped against the wall.

"Please," he whispered, his voice laced with remorse. "Please listen to me. I didn't mean… I didn't mean to scare you. I could never hurt you."

———————————————————————

“I could never hurt you."

Price lied.

He knew that wasn’t true.

How could that possibly be true when the strongest men Price knew, the men that were under his care and his protection, were all in this very hospital broken and battered worse than he’d ever seen them.

Gaz had taken a bullet to the leg and was lucky that he hadn’t bled out on the drive to the hospital. Ghost wasn’t any better. He had suffered several broken ribs and a punctured lung. Although Price was surprised his injuries hadn't been any worse. He’d look like death when Price had found him in the hangar. Ghost had been pinned underneath heavy rubble after the last remaining enemy soldier had detonated a block of C4 in a suicidal attempt to take him out. The blast had been so large that it had blown up half the hangar in a fireball. And Soap… fucking Soap. So much of Johnny’s blood had seeped into Price’s gloves that he’d ditched them in the crumbled hangar while trying to free Ghost from the rubble.

Things had never gone this bad before. Never with the 141. Never with his own. His team. His brothers.

Suddenly Price felt hot and the lights became so bright that he could barely keep his eyes open. Price stumbled forward as his legs became weak beneath him. He reached back to steady himself against the wall, but it offered no support. Everything around him was spinning, the world tilting on its axis. He blinked, trying to clear the haze from his vision, but it only intensified the throbbing pain in his head.

Then a hand grabbed his arm and pulled Price away from the wall and onto a nearby chair. He looked up and saw you, concern and worry etched across your pretty face. You looked so scared. It only made the pain worse.

"Price, what's wrong?" you asked.

What’s wrong?

Everything.

Everything’s wrong.

Price was supposed to be a leader, the one who made the tough decisions and protected his team. He was supposed to be your love, your rock, your defender. All he had wanted to do was punch a hole in that stupid plaster wall, but he’d scared you half to death. He’d been so angry with himself at his failures that you’d expected his wrath to spill onto you. And now he couldn't help but feel like he had let everyone down. The weight of his failures bore down on him, each one a heavy burden that threatened to crush him. How had it come to this? How had he let things spiral out of control?

But the worst question of all was the one that hurt him the most. How was he going to keep you safe when he couldn't even keep his men safe?

The room seemed to close in around Price as he struggled to catch his breath. He pressed a hand against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath his palm. His breathing grew shallow and erratic. Each inhale felt like tiny shards of glass scraping against his lungs. Sweat trickled down his forehead, mixing with the grime and blood that stained his face. His vision turned fuzzy.

Price knew he was having a panic attack. He’d been taught the signs…he’d read the pamphlets on mental health and sat attentively in all the required lectures. But he’d never actually had one and now he couldn’t remember what to do. He couldn’t remember how to breathe. How to live.

He watched through the haze as you knelt in front of him. Your hands gripped his shoulders with a firmness that sent cool shivers down his spine.

"Price, listen to me," you said, your eyes locking with his. "Breathe. Take deep breaths with me, okay? In through your nose...and out through your mouth. In...and out..."

Price followed your lead, inhaling the crisp hospital air and exhaling all the tension and fear that held him hostage. Gradually, his racing heart started to slow and the suffocating weight on his chest eased bit by bit. Inch by inch.

"That's it," you murmured. “There you go, baby. Just like that.”

Price focused on the sound of your voice and on the sweet things you called him.

Baby.

Sweetheart.

Love.

Each endearment was a lifeline, pulling him back from the edge and he followed you to the light. Price closed his eyes as your hands slipped down his shoulders and ran over his biceps and forearms until your fingers slid in between his own. They fit so perfectly there, nestled against his skin, warm and soft.

“You’re here for Sergeant MacTavish?”

Price opened his eyes. A male doctor stood just outside the metal doors that separated the hall from the operating room. Price nodded at the tall man, afraid that if he spoke his voice would give out.

The doctor explained the details of Soap’s condition. By some miracle, they had stabilized Johnny. He’d require another round of surgeries in the coming weeks and he’d need months of rehab after that, but if things continued to go well they expected him to make a full recovery. It was a miracle. Truly Price couldn’t think of any other explanation.

“Sergeant MacTacish is asleep at the moment. But the sedation will wear off in a few hours.” the doctor added. “He’ll be groggy but you should be able to speak with him when he wakes. I’ve also arranged for an orderly to move him into an adjoining room beside Sergeant Garrick and Lieutenant Riley.”

Price nodded again, as the doctor turned back toward the operating room.

“Oh… one last thing,” the doctor added turning to look at you and Price over his shoulder. “Tell Laswell that she doesn’t need to threaten my entire nursing staff to get me scheduled for a surgery. I would have come in for this if she had just called my cell.”

Price laughed for the first time in nearly 24 hours. “I’ll let her know. Thanks, doc.”

The doctor disappeared behind the metal doors and Price let out a long and low exhale.

“Come on,” you said, standing up. “Let’s get out of here. I think you need some fresh air.”

Price followed you, hand in hand through the corridors of the hospital until you made your way to a quiet and empty snow-covered courtyard. You led him to a wooden bench under a weeping Higan cherry tree. The cascading and barren branches swayed in the evening breeze and Price stared up at the moon.

“I wish I could know what you’re thinking,” you said, giving his hand that hadn’t left yours a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t think you do.”

You smiled at Price and it broke his resolve. It always did.

“Try me.”

Price looked deep into your eyes and searched for the right words. The truth was heavy, tangled in a web of guilt and despair. He didn’t want to say it.

“I love you. More than I’ve loved anyone in my entire life. I love you more than I thought was possible. Please… please believe me when I say that.” Price paused. He let go of your hand. This was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. “But I can’t do this anymore.”

———————————————————————

You stared at Price, your heart pounding in your chest. The world around came to a standstill. "What do you mean, you can't do this anymore?" you whispered, voice barely audible as tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over.

You didn’t understand. He couldn’t be talking about you and him together could he? It had to be something else. This didn’t make sense. You loved him and he loved you. He had just said so.

"Price, I don’t understand. What do you mean?"

He stood, leaving you alone on the bench.

“We can’t do this anymore. You and me,” he said pointing to the space in between you. “It’s over. This thing has to be over.”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I’m going to call Laswell and she’s going to get you somewhere safe. Somewhere far from here… from me. She’ll put you in a witness protection program and I’ll make sure you go somewhere warm like you wanted. No one will be able to touch you. You’ll be safe. You can start over again and leave all this behind.”

“But I don’t want that. I don’t want to go anywhere. Please. I love you. I want to be here with you,” you sobbed as tears streamed down your face.

“This isn’t a choice.”

“It is a choice,” you insisted, standing up from the bench and stepping closer to him. “You can choose to be with me. We can figure this out together. There’s always hope, right? Isn’t that what you said to me? That there’s always hope, even when things feel impossible. We can do this together,” you pleaded, reaching out to grab his hand but he pulled away. “Price, please look at me.”

Price began walking toward the hospital, “You should say goodbye to Gaz and Ghost. You won’t have a lot of time.”

You sprinted toward him and blocked his path. Price looked down at you. Normally the height difference between you was something you enjoyed. You liked having to stand on your tiptoes to kiss him or wrap your hands around his neck. But now you felt intimidated by his size. He loomed over you and it made you uneasy. His eyes were cold and unrecognizable. The man before you had changed. You wanted your Price back. You wanted the man you loved back.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you pushing me away? Is this because you don’t think I can do this? It was my first mission and I know I didn’t shoot when Ghost was with me on the water tower. I was just scared. But I fired when he left me. I did Price. I tried. I promise I really tried.” The words came tumbling out of your mouth at a dizzying speed. “And I’m sorry you had to save me again. I’m sorry that I got caught and forced you to save me. But I knew you would. I won’t let that happen ever again though. I promise you. I can do better next time. I will. Please I will do better. Just please don’t send me away. Please don’t do this. I need you.”

———————————————————————

Shit.

Price wished you hadn’t said all that. He wished you hadn’t spewed all your insecurities at him like that. You had opened the door for him and now he was going to push you out.

“You’re never going to be good enough.”

As soon as the words left Price’s mouth he wished he could have taken them back and swallowed them whole.

You began sobbing so hard Price thought you might get sick.

And just like that he’d hurt you again even after promising he wouldn’t. Price didn’t want to, but he had to keep you alive and this was the only way he knew how. He’d failed at everything else. Sending you away was the only thing he could think of. It was his final resort. If he could just put you on the other side of the world and let you start over, without him you’d finally be safe.

And then you could move on. You could start over. You’d done it once already. He knew you could do it again. You’d hurt for a while but it would only be a matter of time before someone else would fall in love with you. You were too beautiful, too smart, and too perfect to be alone for long. And then you could have a normal life. One free from terrorist, blood-shed, and torturous nightmares. You deserved that. A normal life, a better life. He could already see you with a house, a white picket fence, and a family. A real life. A happy life.

And you deserved that. You deserved normal and pretty things. All the things that he couldn’t give to you. He’d been selfish to ever think otherwise. Neither of you had ever talked about the after. About what you’d be to each other after the enemy was finally dealt with… and maybe this was why. As Captain of the 141 Price would always be facing some kind of danger and so would anyone he loved. He never wanted that for you. Maybe you both had avoided talking about your future because this was always how things were going to end.

Maybe this was never going to work.

Maybe this had been doomed from the start.

Tears stained your cheeks and you were shaking. “You don’t mean that,” you whimpered. “I know you don’t mean that.”

Price couldn’t look at you anymore. If he did he would fall apart. Quickly he turned and walked away, opening the doors to the hospital and sprinting through its labyrinth of hallways until he found himself in the parking lot. His chest ached and he felt bile rise through his stomach.

He fell to his knees.

He was going to be sick.

———————————————————————

(Read more from this story on AO3)