#the beats are too spacey and it’s too quiet

[lovebugism]

for fictober, can I request steve and shy!reader with the prompt “I’ll stay until you fall asleep”? maybe a hurt/comfort, steve comforting reader after a bullying incident at school?

thanks for requesting angel! this can be read as a part two to this fic!! — steve comforts you after a no good, really bad day (tw for mentions of bullying, established relationship, hurt/comfort, 1.6k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve waits for you in your childhood bed while you cry in the shower.

The day had been hard to you. Like a fist. It hit you hard in the gut and left a dark, splotchy bruise in its wake.

You’d been too tender to turn Steve down when he asked to come over. Still aching, you thought he might make it better. He did, in a sense, but one person can only do so much. The dark spots of you were too gloomy for your own personal sunshine to brighten.

Steve knows all this — not because you’ve told him, but because he heard you trying to hide it.

He got lonely and almost went into the bathroom with you. He thought he could sit on the counter while you showered, keep each other company and whatnot, but then he thought he heard you sniffling.

His heart ached at the thought that you might’ve been crying, alone and away from him. 

It breaks entirely when he sees you.

“Hi, pretty,” he greets in a quiet lilt when you exit the bathroom, drowning in one of his baggy t-shirts. 

A puff of floral-scented steam follows behind you as you dry your dripping hair with a towel between your palms. Your eyes are glassy and your skin is tinted a redder shade — from the heat or from the hidden tears, he can’t quite tell.

“Hi,” you answer, as quiet as usual. Your voice is meek. Tired. It wavers on the edges, still stained with lingering emotion. Steve doesn’t know why you’re keeping it from him.

“Took you awhile,” the boy singsongs with a crooked grin. It’s not a question, just an observation. He doesn’t want to pry so hard you shut down.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just got… distracted, I think.”

Steve huffs a faint laugh. The mattress squeaks when you sit on the edge of it. He rises from the pillows to take you in his arms. He doesn’t pull you any closer, though, only holds you. He smooths a warm palm up and down your back with one hand and rubs circles on your thigh with the thumb of the other.

“It’s okay, babe. I do that all the time. I just missed you, you know?”

You nod, slowly and mostly to yourself. 

He thinks you might say something, then watches you lose focus a second later. Your wet eyes glaze over with a faraway look. You get lost in your own head, rubbing the towel in your hair with absentminded hands.

“Hey…” Steve hums softly to you, ducking his gaze to find yours. His scruffy face swirls with concern. “You feel okay?”

A beat passes. Your eyes widen when you realize he’s talking — talking to you. It sounded like he was shouting at you from underwater. Like he was calling you from Earth while you sat on the rings of Jupiter. 

His hands are on you, but you’re lightyears away.

“Hmm?” you hum finally.

His smile widens, though it’s lined with worry. “You look a little spacey there, babe,” he tells you with a halfway-forced chuckle.

Your cheeks are aflame with embarrassment now. There’s nothing you can keep from him.

“Sorry…” you murmur.

“Stop apologizing,” Steve laughs, soft but still firm. “We talked about that, remember? You don’t have to be sorry for everything.”

You don’t know what to say, so you shift awkwardly and repeat, “Sorry…”

He decides not to scold you for it this time. Mostly because he knows there’s no point, but also because you do look sort of sick. You’re sunken in and paler than usual, like you’ve died and come back to life since he last saw you.

“You sure you’re okay?”

You nod, even though your chin quivers. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you assure him, voice cracking like delicate glass —  fragile with the burning tears gathering at your waterline.

Steve deflates just like you do. “Babe…”

You weren’t going to cry. Really, you weren’t. You’ve mastered the art of biting your tongue and blinking at the ceiling until the need to weep has passed entirely. But something about the way he says it makes your heart break. It’s been hanging on a thread all day, in your defense.

He says it like you’re made of glass — like there’s no use in hiding because he can see right through you.

You break accordingly.

Your face pinches together. You take a wavering breath in. You’re still trying to keep it together in front of the boy who’s eons out of your league already, but the tears spill over before you mean them to. You put your head in your palms in a feeble attempt to hide there. A sob tumbles from your mouth.

Steve’s heart wrenches. Like your pain is his own. You stab him in the chest when you cry, then twist the knife when you jerk away from him when he tries to comfort you.

“No, don’t,” you snap, then sniffle as you wipe your teary cheeks with the backs of your hands. “‘M just being a baby—”

“No, you’re not,” Steve interjects before you can be cruel to yourself any longer. “Just— Just let me hold you, yeah?”

When you don’t refuse, he tries again. He wraps his arms more intently around you, pulling you to his chest and pressing his nose into your still-drying hair. He can tell you’re trying hard not to cry — between broken breaths, sharp sniffling, and muffled sobs into your palms. 

His eyes squeeze when they start to burn. 

He doesn’t know why you’re still hiding.

“It’s okay to cry, you know? I do it all the time.”

“Over nothing?” you bite with a venom spat mostly at yourself.

“Yeah!” Steve answers with a boyish chuckle. “I worked the graveyard shift the other night and realized I didn’t finish the laundry when I came back home. Had to pout about it like a twelve-year-old for an hour until I finally got up and did it”

You don’t mean to laugh, still a bit miserable in your way, but the visual is too funny not to scoff at.

Steve feigns offense, though he’s chuckling right along with you. “What? Crying’s a good stress reliever! One good sob fest, and you’re good to go.”

You sniffle and wring your hands in your lap. “It just… It makes me feel sorta weak, you know?”

“Crying?”

You nod. Your cheek rubs the soft cotton of his sweatshirt. Your throat wells with tears once more. “And everything already thinks I’m weak, and… I don’t know— I don’t want everyone to be right about me, I guess.”

“You’re not weak, baby,” Steve murmurs, then presses a kiss to your hair as he sways you back and forth. “You’re soft. That’s totally different.”

“Doesn’t feel different.”

“I know,” he hums sympathetically. “But it is.”

You don’t say anything. You just nod. 

“Do you wanna talk about it? The Nothing?”

You decide to be honest. There’s no use in hiding when you’re made of glass, you figure.

“The basketball team just kept staring at me all day — and laughing,” you confess, face crumpling up again. You feel as little as you did back then. “They were making a real big show of it, too, you know? Like that wanted me to see it.”

Steve burns for you. Grief ebbs into rage and turns his chest to ash. His gentle hold on you never wavers, even though his hands tremble with withheld fury. “Jason?” he wonders softly, jaw tense.

You shift, unsure of how to answer. “I mean… yeah, but he wasn’t— he wasn’t actually doing anything. ‘Cause he knows he doesn’t have to do anything.”

“Fucking douchebag,” Steve mumbles through gritted teeth.

“He hasn’t been bothering me or anything. He’s just…”

“A fucking douchebag?”

“Yeah,” you answer, laughing quietly to yourself.

“I’ll talk to him,” Steve assures you, though it’s mainly for himself. “Shoulda know he was too much of an idiot to listen the first time—”

You shake your head against his chest. “No, Steve—”

“—I bet he’s at practice right now. The basketball team usually drills in the gym during football season, so—”

“Steve, don’t,” you interject, sitting further up but staying wrapped in his arms. He looks like Heaven and smells like woodsy cologne and fresh autumn air. It heals you accordingly. “Just leave it, okay? I don’t— I don’t want it to be a big deal like it was last time.”

“You can’t just let him treat you like shit, babe,” Steve argues, chiseled features sharpened into hardened points. “I’m not gonna let him treat you like shit—”

“I can handle it on my own,” you assure him, still gentle in your way but so suddenly stern. Your doe eyes swim with it as you blink up at him.

Not weak, just soft.

Steve concedes with a small sigh. He relaxes into you again, pulls you back to him, and presses his lips to your hair. He doesn’t kiss you. His mouth just lingers. “What can I do then, huh? How can I make you feel better?”

“Can you just stay with me?” you wonder in a mousy whisper.

“Of course,” he scoffs like the answer’s obvious.

Your cheek rubs against his chest when you tilt your chin to peer up at him. “’Til I fall asleep?”

Steve’s rosy lips tug into a crooked grin. “A sleepover, huh? That’s even better— can Steve Bearington come, too?”

He nods over to your dresser where your childhood stuffy sits. He’s beige and fuzzy, older than you are and obviously well-used. You stopped sleeping with him around the time you found Steve. Being held is much different than the holding, you found.

“His name is Theodore, and no, he’s not invited!”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

[illubean]

Ok this is a bit hyper specific but I saw someone else request another writer to do this and I wanna see your take!

Do you this you could write a GN Reader who’s friends with one of the zoldyck kids (most likely Killua or Illumi) and while at the manner they pass by Silva/Zeno and Reader makes a remark like “damn… your dad/grandpa kinda fine…” and they hear?

Sorry if this is too specific….. ignore this if you don’t wanna write it!! <3

D.I.L.F.

Characters: Illumi Zoldyck, Silva Zoldyck Type: Crack, Short Oneshot, Gn!reader

Illumi is sick of your shit

Warnings: none

Being friends with Illumi was...interesting to say the least. No one actually understands how you guys came to be acquainted, aside from the fact you both work in the same business. But somehow, you had gained the cold assassin's trust enough to go on joint missions with him and be invited over to his home.

And boy, were you glad that was the case.

Currently, you were sitting at the Zoldycks' grand dining table, discussing a potential ally-ship. Well; more like listening to Illumi and his father discuss it.

To be honest, you could care less about the technical side of things. For now all you could pay attention to was Illumi's absolute beefcake of a dad.

You were leaning against your arm that was propped up on the table with a smitten look on your face. Oh the things you would do if he wasn't married.

Glancing over at you, Illumi noticed the spacey look on your face, your eyes glued to his dad who was seated across the table.

"So Y/n, what do you say?"

Your brain didn't really comprehend the words spoken to you by the albino man, but you just nodded.

"Huh, yeah, whatever, that sounds good."

All that mattered right now was that he was looking at you.

You were snapped out of your daze at the feeling of Illumi kicking you from under the table. You jumped out of your slouched position and snapped your head to look at your companion, who was giving you the most dubious side eye you have ever seen.

After dinner, you and Illumi made your way down the corridor, about to leave the estate.

"Damn Illumi...you never told me your dad was so fine," you sigh, thinking back to the man you had just met moments ago. Your friend narrowed his eyes at you as the pair of you kept walking.

"Don't say that."

"Aw, come on, he's a total DILF! Do you need another dog? I can bark. Seriously, if he's interested in another spouse tell him to call me."

Illumi stopped walking, one of his eyes twitching slightly in annoyance. You took a few more steps before noticing he had stopped. You turned around to look at him as a beat of silenced passed.

"...What?"

The black haired man swiftly and wordlessly turned you around by your shoulders and began to push you down the hall.

"Hey! Let go of me- I can walk on my own y'know!"

After a while of being shoved towards the front door of the main estate, Illumi swings it open and throws you out before you hear a loud 'SLAM' behind you. You land with a quiet 'oof!' before getting off and dusting your pants. You huff before turning around and raising your fist to the door.

"You're just mad you got your looks from your mom!"

#hxh 2011 #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh illumi #illumi zoldyck #illumi hxh #illumi x reader #illumi #silva zoldyck #silva x reader #hxh fanfic #illumi hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter fanfic

[just-a-space-rabbit]

Supervillain caught Hero and Sidekick, for a sinister plot. /J

TW: Implied drugging, Kidnapping

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The plan had worked perfectly so far, which was good! Supervillain thought to themselves, holding Sidekick steady in one arm, while Hero was slumped over their other shoulder. The two Crime stoppers were going to remain unconscious for a good while.

Still Supervillain dreaded someone seeing them like this, their usually well kempt hair was loose, and they only had the main part of their suit and mask on. There was no gadget, cape, or weapons, instead sporting a leather jacket, and a backpack.

It was past midnight, too far past midnight and the hole city seems to finally have fallen asleep, leaving the small dark alley eerily quiet. Even Supervillain’s footstep felt muffled as they carefully moved.

Hero themselves was barely an adult and not old enough to be in sole responsibility of sidekick while patrolling, and Sidekick is so young, they should simply be in bed by now! But Supervillain did not blame them, nope this was Superheroes doing, sending kids out in the middle of night, and working during their summer vacation! When I get my hands on that multi-coloured idiot!

Supervillain gave a small grunt, on the thought of giving superhero a nice beating. Nope, they could not just stand by as the two worked all night, all the time.

Hero and Sidekick had been out on night patrol, again, the seventh night in a row... Although they were trained and prepared for a fight, they were not prepared for the biggest criminal in town to be waiting for them.

Supervillain had made Right hand prepare a special trap for them. Hero and Sidekick had simply been walking down the alley, and the next thing they knew they were both out, and on the ground. Supervillain had checked them to make sure everything was fine, before lifting them both up.

Now they were walking as quietly as they could, the alley opening up ahead to show Right hand waiting, leaning into a motor home. “Yikes! Went you said Sidekick was a kid, I didn’t think you meant a kid, kid” Second hand looked at the little knocked out crime stopper.

“What you thought I made a big fuss over a fully grown adult? Also can you take them; my arm is killing me” Supervillain asked as the carefully gave Sidekick over to Right hand, “Now, is everything ready” Supervillain looked at the brand-new motor home.

“Yes, everything is ready, food, clothing, and all essentials have been put in place. So, I guess there is no stopping you now?” Right hand looked in between Hero and Sidekick; they were no longer able to not smile at the ridiculousness of the situation

“Yes! If superhero is not going to give them a summer vacation, then I will!” Supervillain opened the side door and moved in. the inside was clean and fairly spacey, not too small not too big. On one of the walls hang a map of the country with a red line going on a long wavy path, there were several pins along the way.

After laying Hero down on one of the prepped beds they turned to Right hand who was still holding Sidekick. “So, are you coming along or not?”

“Yes fine, I need a vacation myself anyway” Right hand said placing down Sidekick in the bunk bed above Hero. “I already got your favorite coffee ready in the front. We better drive for a few hours tonight, so I’ll drive first” Right hand said, looking at the clock clearly a bit tired.

They decided to make it was good few miles out of into the wilderness, concluding that it would help with dealing with Hero and sidekick waking up. The road was mostly empty, and the horizon slowly starting to light up.

“I am worried you know” Right hand eyes did not leave the road “you do know you have to give them back at the end of the summer?”

“Of course, I am going to give them back!” Supervillain chuckled unconvincingly. Right hand was internally already regretting this “Just… just don’t get attached to them, ok?”

Supervillain did get attached to them… and they did not give them back at the end of the summer.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

#villain x henchman #Supervillain x Henchman #Hero x Villain #Forced “FaMiLy” time #Supervillain is pro workers union #Supervillain #second hand #henchman #hero #superhero #sidekick #Dysfunctional family road trip on a new level! #My Writing #tw drugging #tw kidnapping

[alltoowell-taylorsversion]

Cruel Summer fucking SUCKS in Dolby atmos

#Apple Music #the beats are too spacey and it’s too quiet #it just doesn’t slap you know?

[paper--moons]

Regressor!Bruce Wayne Headcanons

(with cg!Jim Gordon)

Now, Bats and the commissioner go way back. But Jim knows that the man under the cowl is just that: a man. Not the invincible protector of the innocent nor the evildoer's worst nightmare that he sells himself as, but a person. One that is hurting and has been for some time now. And that there are very few people that he lets in. So when he asks to be let in further, for Bruce to truly let down some of those impenetrable mental walls of his, he knows he's taking a big risk—but as is often the case with big risks, there are big rewards, and Jim knows he has to risk losing Bruce in order to help him. Jim has seen the way Bruce can sometimes get a little spacey if he's been working a case too long, showing a vulnerability during their late night chats that he's sure not many others (or any other) has seen.

It's that uncharacteristic softness that he can get that sparks the idea. Because for as much as Jim has tried to identify what it is exactly, the closest thing he can get to is innocence—an innocence that Bruce lost long ago in the alley where he had lost his parents. Jim had been a young beat cop then, and hadn't thought too much about the little boy he had wrapped in his coat at the scene of the crime. But now? He wants to make up for that negligence from what feels like a lifetime ago, and take care of that little boy. So he takes a chance after a particularly rough case, when they're standing there in his office, the aftermath of the case washing over them. He knows Bruce doesn't like being vulnerable, but what he's about to offer makes him vulnerable as well, albeit in a different way.

The proposal—that Bruce let down his walls, that Jim will be there to keep him safe—is messy and awkward. But it's genuine, so much so that Bruce pauses to consider it. Jim might not have the proper words for what it is that he's suggesting, but Bruce knows because he's looked into regression before. And his pause is telling in and of itself. Maybe it's because he's so worn down, run-ragged from protecting Gotham for the umpteenth time, a never ending, often thankless job that takes more than it gives—that he surprises both the commissioner and himself by allowing that softness to take over. Agreeing with a slight nod and a quiet, mumbled okay. Bruce has no more fight left in him, and in the privacy of the office he gives in. If he were more aware, if he weren't already sinking down, then he might have noticed the nervous tremor in Jim's hands as the older man removed his cowl for him.

It alarms Bruce later, but in the moment as soon as the cowl came off he dropped like a stone. That is to say, he goes from being Batman to Bruce—to a child—in an instant. All the effort he exerts keeping his guard up is suddenly cut loose and he's left feeling small and oh so lost. He finds himself clinging to Jim, holding his coat in that death grip that only scared little kids can achieve. Shuddering breaths and shaking shoulders are the only indications of his otherwise silent tears and he buries his face into Jim's shoulder. It's really been years since he let himself cry like this, but Bruce doesn't focus on that. Instead he focuses on Jim's cologne and the hand cradling his head, the other rubbing soothing circles on his back with the soft promise of I've got you, nothing will hurt you now. And with the blind trust of a child, Bruce believes him.

And while things go smoother than expected the first time, it's not all sunshine and rainbows (if the first time could even be described that way). Sometimes Bruce is difficult; he wants to handle things how he used to, by suppressing them. But that isn't healthy, and now that he does have a healthy outlet he cannot hold things in like he used to. Jim has learned on the really hard nights he needs to be gentle yet firm, because Bruce desperately needs a guiding hand. So he waits out any angry stomping, doesn't rise to the bait of any yelling, ignores any scowling (that's much more akin to a pout now that he knows what to look for)—and instead patiently waits for Bruce to tire himself out. When he does, Jim helps him down into his smallspace, lets him set the pace while offering encouragement and suggestions. Reminding him that he's doing so well, and wouldn't he like to come sit down with him? (The answer is always yes, though not so much in words as it is expressed in Bruce wedging himself into the plush armchair with him.)

Most often they do things in a routine once they figure out that structure is something little Bruce needs. Structure, and simple choices that is. Being left to his own devices is too much when he's small; he desperately needs somebody else to be in charge, given that he takes on way to much responsibility in his daily life. So his regression often follows the same basic routine. Always post mission, either at Jim's residence or his office. Bruce is helped into something softer and lighter, that doesn't bear the physical and metaphorical weight of the batsuit. This is followed by getting him a snack and his sippy for him to have while Jim reads a chapter from the latest children's book Bruce has picked. And without fail, Bruce will fall asleep curled up to his side and gripping his coat.

Even though both of their lives continue to remain unpredictable, if there's one thing Bruce can rely on after a tough case, it's Jim. There's always, always time made for him to be small without making him feel like a burden, while also making him feel like he's worth it and deserves it. At the end of the day Bruce knows there's someone there to make him feel safe again, to hold him when it feels like the rest of the world is falling apart. The sense of security that Jim provides enables him to be a better version of himself; one that attends to his own needs as well as saving those around him.

#sfw agere #dc comics #dc comics agere #bruce wayne #agere bruce wayne #jim gordon #agere jim gordon #moons hcs

[officialtrashbusiness]

Hidden Gem - Katsuki Bakugou

info : fluff, cursing, gn! reader, ( kinda? )self indulgent , mostly bakugou’s pov

word count: 1889

synopsis: You’re the quiet and forgettable student in class 1-A that is until you tell Katsuki Bakugou to ‘shut the fuck up’.

Amongst the eccentric students of class 1-A, you were a part of the quiet and reserved minority-- including but not limited to: Shoji, Tokoyami and Koda. Compared to your quieter (and shyer) classmates, you were physically plain. You could say the same about your quirk as well. It was not eye catching compared to the heroic and whimsical wonders that were your classmates. If the people outside of class 1-A were to have a sudden fascination with you, they would conclude that you were part of general education-- the much blander courses of UA. These variables formulated a simple conclusion: You were forgettable, and you were fine with that.

So it wasn’t much of a discovery when the infamous firecracker of a blonde had zero fucking clue as to who you were. So much so that when you had uncharacteristically told him to ‘Shut the fuck up’, after some built up tension of one bad examen score and his constant yowling that you had to deal with as you sat in behind him, he was stunned alongside the class of 1-A. His bubbling brain tried to place the crude nickname that he so humbly gave you just like he did with every bumbling idiot in the classroom.

But his brain turned out blank.

His scrutinizing, carmine eyes traced your complexion as he tried to spit up some basic yet negative nicknames for you that are usually attributed to your physical features. He couldn’t find a defining detail that he could dub you with. It fucking irked him.

What the fuck? He thought. Who..

“Who the fuck were you, hah?” Bakugou snarled. His back was slightly hunched as he leaned forward towards you. His fingers slightly curled at his side as if he was threatening to trigger his quirk in the classroom. His pose and threatening scowl were used as tools to intimidate you. The quirk of his lip exposed the canine of his teeth while his hair seemed to bristle with vexing rage.

Kinda like a cat, you inwardly chuckle as you try to ease the trepidation riddling your brain. The unusual amount of eyes on you were unorthodox and felt like a sunburn. The murmurs and giggles amongst the students of class 1-A had turned your brain into mush. You did not mean to say that out loud.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You shot back without thinking.

A howl of laughter makes you jolt as well as the sudden realization that hits you once you have processed what you had said. Bakugou’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before transitioning into a jaw clenching growl. You could see his whole being vibrate with rage.

The class president marches up from the other side of the room. His instincts pull him from his seat as he predicts that Bakugou’s going to have hissy fit with one of the (supposedly) quietest students in class. His sense of responsibility did not want a scorch mark on the walls.. Or on your face.

“Enough, you two!” Iida scolds as he towers over the both of your sitting figures. “We do not tolerate inappropriate language!” His hand slices through the air, ashamed as he has to scold the two students for fowl language. He turns over to the spiky haired blonde, “I expected this kind of behavior from you, Bakugou but (L/--”

“Shut the fuck up, glasses!” Bakugou spat out as his glare was now pointed at the dutiful class president. Iida’s eyes widen behind his glasses with offense. His mouth parts, ready to fire another scolding towards the mouthy blonde. “Quit your fucking nagging! I’m tired of your uptight ass!”

“(L/N),” Sero calls out. His laugh cuts through the argument and grabs your attention. “I never knew you had it in you to tell Bakugou off!” He tilts his head back with laughter.

Kaminari pats a hand on Sero’s shoulder. His body doubled over with snorts and howling. “Yeah!” He snorts before wiping a fake tear away causing Sero to giggle. “We all thought you were shy and stuff! You’re always so quiet!” He points an accusing finger towards Bakugou. “You even got him to shut up for a second! You’re a miracle worker!”

You chuckle before giving the two jokesters a smug smile and shrug, feeling your heart lighten at the sudden praise.

“Shut the fuck up! This nobody didn’t do jack shit, you fucking dumbasses!”He fumed before hearing the chimes of your giggles enter his ear. His ego deflates as his body bristles. He whips his head towards your direction. “What’s so fucking funny, extra?!” He screamed.

“I just didn’t expect you to listen to me.” You smirked.

An unexpected acquaintanceship between you and the two knuckleheads from Bakugou’s group began to slowly form after that-- much to Bakugou’s chagrin and your surprise. They’re stuck to you like a pair of parasites feeding off of you for nutrients, Bakugou mentally grumbled. He instantly knew the relationship between the three was reminiscent of him and the other parasites in his group. You had grown to warm up to the two boys after they relentlessly poked and prodded you, just like Bakugou did-- although, he would be caught dead admitting any positive comments relating to his group.

By the time you had opened up, the rest of the group had followed suit and made friends with you. It was only natural seeing that you have been recruited by one of the two dumbasses of the group. Having two friends from the group, you naturally melded in.

The quiet demeanor you held in front of class seemed to unravel once you had made your home in the sociable group. You had separated yourself from the distant and shy minority and began to feel more secure conversing amongst your fellow classmates. Although you weren’t friends with everyone in the classroom, you had the ability to smile and approach them with ease.

Amongst all of this, Bakugou was the outlier of the classroom. In contrast to everyone, he talked to you even less than before. His pride and embarrassment impelled him to ignore you, in which you did back-- you didn’t have the gall to bother him. Although the communication between the two of you was dead, he would watch you from afar.

Bakugou identified people by physical appearance but never by name. His mind was too busy bustling about becoming the number one hero for him to care about names. He always remembered faces and the different (most of the time negative) facets of people’s appearance, but he didn’t remember yours. He had never seen your face and he couldn’t deem a nickname based off of the quirks of your appearance, and it pissed him right the fuck off.

So, he watched the way you move, the tone of your voice and the way you talked. He watched your hands move as you talk confidently with his little group of stalkers from the corner of his eyes. His ears picked up the loud chime of your laughter and noted your thoughts and opinions as you broadcasted them to the group.

He had noticed that you were honest and straightforward when the time really appreciated it to be. You were a bit opinionated, but held an air of understanding. He wants to laugh at the fact that you’re a little mean hearted despite seeming to always lend a hand when there was any sign of needing one.

You were different from what he perceived. You weren’t some plain wuss of an extra, and he didn’t know what to think of it.

You were a diamond in the ruff, an intruding thought whispers.

Bakugou stomped away after an excruciating match with Todoroki. His usual hunched back was heavier and the trample of his feet was louder than usual. His heavy set growl seemed more menacing as he grumbled out curses. His red eyes glowered at the floor.

He found himself under the shade where the bleachers were. He snatched his plastic bottle from where it resided underestimating the weight as he realized it was empty. He rips out a growl of annoyance before tossing the bottle into the large blue recycling bin near him.

“You want one of mine?” An all too familiar voice called out.

He whipped his upward to see you sitting two benches up. The upper half of your body was slightly hunched as one of your elbows rested on your knee. Your face leans against the heel of your palm that is being supported by your knee. The arm closest to him is extended towards him as it tries to offer him a cool bottle of pocari sweat.

For the second time, he pauses. His eyes blink as he observes your sitting form, trying to slew some sort of nasty nickname at you, but it comes out blank. Your eyes are a bit sleepy from the sun’s beating and the harsh one-on-one between you and one of your classmates. Your expression is relaxed and seems a bit spacey (or maybe a tad bit soft) as you look down at him. Your cheeks look pillowy as the hand against it pushes out a subtle pout from your lips. You let out a soft ‘here’ before tossing the bottle at him, which he snatches from the air effortlessly.

This was his second time directly talking to you, he thinks to himself as he stares down at the bottle. You had only made comments about him, but never talked to him. He starts to wonder if you also observe him from the corner of your eye or listen to his snappy remarks.

“It hasn’t been tinkered with, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He can tell by the tone of your voice that you were joking, so he looks up to see if there’s a sleepy smile on your face. There was one. “I bought an extra one because I noticed that your bottles are always almost empty as soon as the hero's class is over.” You stated honestly.

Bakugou realizes he’s been too quiet, so he tuts and looks away. Your hotheaded classmate reluctantly twists the white cap as the air around his face begins to warm up.

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t need you to be my fucking mom.” He hisses before taking a swig as he tries to avoid the pressuring gaze of your eyes before turning to glare at you as he tightens the lid.

“No need to be embarrassed, Bakugou.” A smug smirk appears on your lips as you chuckle at him. Your sleepy eyes look unintentionally sultry as it accompanies your smirk. It doesn’t help that your relaxed pose enhances the way you. His stomach tightens. “I’m just trying to be nice.”

The flushed blonde reddens even more, realizing that his reaction had been caught red handed. “L-Like hell, I’m fucking embarrased!” He exclaims.

You mirror the wide eyed expression on his face at the realization of his stutter. Your smiles widened as you let out a laugh. It dawns on him as he watches you laugh as to why he couldn’t find a kink in your appearance. The blissed out look on your face as well as the melody of your laughter makes his heart stutter.

You’re fucking beautiful and he hates it.

Please Reblog if you enjoyed it! I might make a part two, but only if y’all tell me to!

#✨👁.writes #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #mha #mha x reader #mha imagine #imagine mha #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero x reader #katsuki bakugou #fluff

[dhwty-writes]

A Touchy One

Is this incredibly self-indulgent? Yes. Am I posting this anyways? Also yes! I dug this up somewhere in my WIP folder and decided this deserves to be finished.

This is the first thing I've posted in forever, and I know (and am sorry) that it's no OWBABH update (that will come, too, I promise), but take this in the meantime. I am finally feeling like writing again, so here's to hoping I won't take as long next time. Have fun reading!

Summary:  The bard is a touchy one, which is an odd travel companion to have, especially for a witcher. It isn't that Geralt minds so much as that he startled terribly the first time it happened.

Or: how two people, who do not like being touched learn to enjoy each other's closeness, featuring a sex-repulsed Jaskier and our resident grumpy witcher.

Warnings: none, as far as I’m aware

Read on AO3

The bard is a touchy one, which is an odd travel companion to have, especially for a witcher. It isn't that Geralt minds so much as that he startled terribly the first time it happened.

It has been scarcely more than a brush of his fingertips across his forearm, but still Geralt did jump and scoot away as if burned. He even faintly remembers growling quietly, although he's not quite sure if that was a later addition of his mind. He distinctly remembers the surprised, and slightly hurt expression on Jaskier's face, though.

After that, there has been no touching for quite some time. Until one night, when Geralt returned from a contract too tired to rid himself of his armour and simply flopped face down onto the bed in the inn they were staying at. Jaskier drew close, hesitantly hovering at his side, one hand extended. "May I?" he asked quietly.

The bard patiently waited for his grunt of approval, before hauling him upright, deftly unbuckling his armour and putting it away. Geralt was half asleep during the whole process, leaning his forehead against Jaskier's shoulder, while fighting the urge to pull him close.

The bard is a touchy one, and although that seemed odd and startled Geralt in the beginning, it now is the most natural thing in the world. Because the thing is, the bard isn't necessarily a touchy one. He is a spacey one. Comes with the profession, he guesses.

Wherever Jaskier goes, he brings a stage with him, announcing his presence with loud songs and colours as well as grand gestures, uncaring for other people's opinions. It is only natural, that with every other spread of his arms he brushes against someone. And it's also mostly natural that, as his travelling companion, those touches mostly reach Geralt.

Just as natural as touching him in return. In fact, it is the most natural thing in the world. There is seldom a moment when the bard isn't touching him, be it a hand on his forearm, an elbow nudging his side, or his dirty feet in his lap. And it isn't as if the bard is the only one to initiate that kind of intimacy. Geralt delights in throwing an arm around his friend's shoulder, steadying him with a reassuring hand on his back after he had too much to drink, or wrestling him into a river. He especially delights in waking up cuddled close to his bard, their limbs and scents intertwining, both of them too lazy to start the day.

He can't remember when that had started, if he's quite honest. He thinks it was maybe five years after they first met, that they arrived at an inn tired and battered, as well as soaking wet from the thunderstorm outside only to discover that there was only one bed left.

After tucking the witcher into bed, the bard threatened to slip from his grasp. "Jaskier," Geralt slurred after a failed attempt to grab his wrist.

"Yes, dear witcher?"

"C'me 'ere." Geralt doesn't quite remember the motion accompanied by his words, too much asleep for that already, but according to Jaskier he made 'grabby hands'. Despite that embarrassing escapade, the bard beamed and indulged him, slipping into the single bed next to him and cradling him tight to his chest. Geralt never slept so soundly in his entire life.

 He thought that he would mind, if he is honest. He never liked anyone invading his space before, and Jaskier is nothing if not invading. It took them a bit to establish some boundaries, to find out what made the other snarl and pull back or vanish come morning. Geralt doesn't like his potions to be messed with and Jaskier is very protective of his notebook. Geralt prefers to be cuddled instead of doing the cuddling part and Jaskier allows no hands from his hips to his knees, although he doesn't mind waking up with Geralt draped over him from chest to toe.

Other taboos soon soften until they are abandoned completely. Like the bag-sharing ban, for example, or clothes. In the first few months of cuddles and touches, Jaskier enacted his strict shirts-and-pants-required-policy with vigour, only to be the one to ultimately forego it. Geralt still smiles at the memory.

It was an especially hot summer, maybe a decade into their acquaintance and Geralt just wrestled the bard into a clear creek. They were sodding wet, Jaskier huffing indignantly, in nothing but their smallclothes, too lazy to dry off if the sun was about to do the work anyways. Seeing him standing there, shaking his wet hair, his hands on his hips, did something funny to Geralt's stomach. As if it dropped and lifted at the same time.

Before knew what he was doing, he tossed Jaskier his clothes. "Get dressed," he ordered gruffly and spread his arms, "and come here."

Jaskier looked at the garments in his hands and sneered. "Oh, fuck no," he spat out. "You want a hug, Geralt of Rivia?" He threw the dirty clothes back at him and spread his arms. "Come and get it."

Geralt let them hit him. Although that also might have been the shock of Jaskier so readily abolishing his most adamant requirement. "You sure?"

"Yes, I'm bloody sure, you daft witcher. Now come here before I dry and start melting again."

Geralt has never been so quick to comply to a request. He lunged to tackle Jaskier to the ground, happily sprawling across him until they were both sweaty again. He was shoved off unceremoniously and then coerced into another bath in the river.

That night they didn't bother to get dressed either. Not when setting up their camp next to the creek, not when Jaskier got out his lute, not when Geralt started cooking their dinner. Certainly not when going to sleep.

Maybe it ought to feel weird. It's a weird thing to embrace your friend like a lover, is it not? It didn't, though. It doesn't. In fact, it feels like most natural thing in the world.

The bard is a touchy one. But that is not the reason why he is odd. The reason why he is odd, is his reaction to being touched in turn. He often startles and pulls away, just like Geralt has.

They are lying in bed one evening, entangled like they always are, Jaskier on Geralt's chest (the bard insisted they swap for once), Geralt carding his fingers through his bard's hair. There was a performance, earlier that day, and Jaskier made the acquaintance of a nice-looking gentleman. Geralt resigned himself already to the fact that he would go to bed alone that night.

But then, the man reached out to place a hand on Jaskier's knee. The bard froze up and a moment later he was plastered against his witcher's side, insisting they go to bed. It is a strange behaviour, although not the first time he has seen Jaskier react that way. The question burns on his tongue and, of course, Jaskier notices.

"What is it?"

Geralt tenses beneath him. Fifteen years and still not brave enough to ask. "Hm."

"Don't be daft," the bard chides, "we both know something's on your mind. Out with it."

There's no evading a determined bard, Geralt discovered that a long time ago. "You... don't like to be touched," he notices. Which is an odd thing to say to the half-naked man sprawled across his chest, with his ankles hooked around his calves. But they are odd people and an odd pair, so that's neither here nor there.

He is quiet for a long time. Such a long time, in fact, that Geralt feels the need to check with a quiet "Jaskier?" if he hasn't fallen asleep.

"Hm," the bard replies quietly. "That's not strictly true."

"Not strictly untrue either."

Jaskier sighs with a resignation of a man who knows he cannot hide, but doesn't particularly want too either. Still, it takes him a long time to reply: "I don't mind the touching. I... am not a great fan of what comes after."

Geralt freezes, his fingers tangled in Jaskier's hair, trying and failing to decipher that statement. "What comes after?"

"Oh, you know..." Jaskier makes a very illustrative gesture.

"Ah." Yes, he knows what comes after. He is, in fact, a great fan of what comes after. "You mean you don't like men?"

"Oh no, don't get me wrong. I like men and women well enough, just... not in my bed."

He frowns and looks down again at the man sprawled across his chest who must surely notice his heart beating rapidly. "Jaskier..."

"Hm?"

"I'm in your bed."

"Yes, I know, but that's different. I don't like them naked in my bed."

"Jaskier," he says again, glancing down at their almost naked bodies pressed together.

"Oh, shut up, you great oaf," he hisses and grins. "You know what I mean. And you're... different."

"Hm. Why?"

"I don't know." Jaskier sighs and pushes his hair out of his face. "You just are. Never tried to shove your dick into me, for starters. Or tried to coax me to shove my dick into you."

He shrugs. "Never thought you'd be interested."

"I'm not. Are you?"

He shrugs again. "Does it matter, if you aren't?"

"I guess it doesn't. Still, are you?"

"Jaskier," he chides softly and does his best not to squirm under his inquisitive gaze. But the bard is unrelenting. Geralt sighs and raises his eyebrows as he answers. "You... are a very attractive man. I would gladly suck your cock, or let you suck mine, if you were so inclined. Seeing as you aren't... I would rather refrain from it, if it's all the same to you." He smiled and splayed his fingers over Jaskier's shoulder. "I assure you, not the most proficient cocksucking in the world could grant me greater bliss than I am in right now. There is nothing in the world that could persuade me to give up what we have, especially not something as insignificant as a roll in the hay."

"Oh." Jaskier's shoulders sag and for a moment Geralt fears he's said something wrong. But then a bright smile spreads on his bard's face that is mirrored by his own a moment later. "That's a relief. And thank you. I guess."

Geralt snorts, amused. "You're welcome." After a moment of silence, he adds: "Jaskier? You're different for me, too."

"I am?" The bard beams at him. "How so?"

He has to be exhausted. Or drunk. Or both. There is no other explanation for the next words that leave his mouth. "Because I love you," he hears himself say, to his own mortification.

But Jaskier just smiles and closes his eyes. "Oh," he breathes and languidly squirms closer, like a cat basking in the sun. Then, after a mortifying moment that feels like an eternity, with Geralt's heart thundering in his chest, he replies: "I love you, too, Geralt of Rivia."

He breathes out, relieved, and opts for holding his bard tighter. That's always a good option. It just feels right to share their space and share their silence. Natural. 

He's not sure how long the quiet lasts before, for once, he's the one to break it: "Are we lovers?" Geralt asks suddenly, the question that has been occupying his mind for the past few minutes.

Jaskier sleepily blinks up at him. "Do you want us to be? I'm sure you could find a person better—"

"No, I don't think so," he interrupts him without hesitating.

Jaskier smiles again and it's a sweet expression, one that makes his heart speed up and his face go soft. "If we were lovers, Geralt...," he says after a while, "what would that mean for us?"

"You mean, what would change?"

"Yes."

"Hm." He gives him a long glance. "You said you are averse to naked people in your bed."

"I am," Jaskier confirms. 

"Are you also averse to clothed people kissing you?"

Geralt feels stupid while asking it. Apparently, it is very stupid, for Jaskier immediately starts laughing. "No, my dear," he replies after having calmed down, "I am not averse to clothed people kissing me."

"In that case, I would like to kiss you from time to time."

"Like when?" Jaskier props himself up on an elbow and his lips curl into a different smile, one that's more teasing, more flirtatious than the soft expression before.

"Like now," he says before he can change his mind. 

Jaskier hums and reaches out slowly, so that he cups Geralt's face with his hand, tracing his cheekbone with his thumb. Then, he leans in, just as slowly, and presses his lips to the witcher's in a sweet kiss. 

"Good?" Geralt asks when he pulls away.

"Good," Jaskier confirms. 

"Good." He allows himself to smile as well, bright and unguarded like his bard taught him, and pulls him against his chest again. Once they're settled, he says, feeling a little silly: "I suppose I would also like a love poem or two, master poet."

"Oh, Geralt." Jaskier smooths a hand down his side and feels around until he finds Geralt's hand and can interlace their fingers. "Are you so daft as not to realise that each and every one of my poems for you's a love poem?" he mumbles and presses a kiss to his knuckles.

Warmth spreads in his chest again and he smiles. "I had hoped," he replies and returns the gesture, "but I did not dare to presume." After a moment he adds: "Thank you."

"Always, love," Jaskier replies. "Now go to sleep. I'm knackered."

Feeling relieved and relaxed, holding his bard—his lover!— close, Geralt does.

The bard is a touchy one. And an odd one, although not for his relationship to touches. He's an odd one for loving a witcher. But said witcher is an odd and touchy one as well, so it's alright. In fact, it is the most natural thing in the world.

#my writing #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Hansol: Fire and Ice (Part Two)

Characters: Hansol x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst, a little bit of fluff in there tho, a hint of crack, lots of talking about death, mention of stabbing

Word count: 1,964

Summary: You’ve always been one to let your emotions get the best of you – your power reflects that – and you’ve never been good at expressing them. That’s why you always thought you’d be awful with a mate, but you never thought things would be this awful.

Previous | Next | Fire and Ice Masterlist

It wasn’t until the mates at Jiung’s house watched the werewolves perk up and strain their ears that their heart started racing, the too-quiet and tense atmosphere being broken. Chanseong stood up to follow Rin – who had come home alone before everyone else after chasing after you – as she went straight for the door. But she still didn’t smile. Nobody in their pack had smiled once since you ran out with Chan chasing after you.

Rin turned to look at Rika, saying something quickly in English. The smaller girl understood, ushering the mates that had made it back on their own back into the living room.

“What is it?” Yeji asked worriedly as Mingyu rushed right out the door behind Rin.

Rika sighed, trying her best to get a look out the window, “I know you’ve all guessed something was wrong, but… Somebody didn’t make it back.”

“What?!” Jooyeon cried, already assuming the worst.

“Someone’s missing?” Jia asked urgently. “Who?”

Rika just shook her head before sitting on another couch between two of her pack’s mates. 

Then the front door opened, and everybody in the living room stood, waiting to see who would enter. But every face was somber, and some had silent tears in their eyes or sliding down their cheeks. 

The group in the living room watched as Hansol entered, carrying you, who was passed out in his arms with your face tear-stained and set in almost a scowl. Rika just stared at him for a beat of silence before wordlessly leading him out of the room. None of them were sure what happened to you, but they hoped you were okay.

They watched as Chanseong stood after seeing you, and walked out of the room with a loud sob escaping passed his lips. Jimin got up to follow him.

Eyes scanned each person one-by-one as they entered, everyone wanting to know who made it back okay. Were their mates okay? Was it the person they loved most who didn’t make it back? The group in the living room watched as members of Jiung’s pack entered, all silently crying as they filed in. Jaesang, Hanbin, Jinyoung, Baekhan, Hyojun – all of them had tears in their eyes and sliding down their cheeks. But even Seungcheol’s pack looked upset. The alpha himself entered, head bowed and tears brimming his eyes as he tried to not cry in front of his pack. It wasn’t until Jooyeon cried out his name and ran into his arms that he sobbed into her hair.

They realized once everyone was inside that it was the alpha of the pack that had helped them that didn’t make it back. Jiung had died.

The reunions were sweet, and almost made everyone in Seungcheol’s pack forget about whatever had happened. Jia clung to Minghao’s arm, frantically whispering things to him in Mandarin as she sniffled and kissed his cheek -- even giving Junhui a quick peck on the cheek and telling him she was happy he was safe. Wonwoo enveloped his sister and his mate in a tight hug, kissing both of their heads before taking his niece in his arms and cooing to her while she slept.

And of course, brothers and sisters hugged each other and said their forms of love and caring. Joshua gave a stern look to Soomin before he hugged her and complained for scaring him half to death. Jihoon gave Suvi a genuine smile as he patted her hand and told her he was happy she was finally safe. Seungkwan threw his arms dramatically around Chan and cried that their “baby is okay”. Even Soonyoung strolled up to Jooyeon casually, giving her a side-hug as he grinned down at her.

“Saw some of those assholes with knives in their chests,” he commented like it was nothing. “I’m proud of you, Yeon. You defended your pack.”

“I’d do it again if I had to,” she told him with a proud smile before Soonyoung squeezed her shoulder again.

“Let’s hope we don’t have to,” Seokmin spoke up.

-

“So, what happened in town?” Wonwoo had asked as the pack finally settled into the living room to discuss the aftermath.

Things were calmer now. Mates were relaxed together, Wonwoo and Danbi were sitting beside each other on the couch and softly talking to each other, and Eunjin looked peaceful as she looked curiously around the room. For once, things felt normal, which was a rare occurrence for the pack.

“I can assure you that the son-of-a-bitch Donghae is dead,” Soonyoung nodded. “Our little Suvi is safe – oh, and happy birthday, by the way.”

Chan held Suvi a little closer to his side – he had returned from disposing of the tracker, and Suvi’s arm was healed thanks to Joshua – pressing a kiss to her temple and making the girl blush. It made both packs happy knowing that he didn’t have to worry about her anymore. He could just be with her.

“Does anybody care to explain the _____ situation?” Danbi wondered slowly. “She freaked out before she left, and came back out cold.”

Obviously the pack had noticed Hansol hadn’t come back yet even though they’d seen Rika wandering around, so nobody was sure what happened to him or you. Those who weren’t there to see what happened did, however, notice Wonwoo’s gold eyes suddenly look down at the floor. Danbi just knew he did to you what he had done to Jooyeon her first night at the wolves’ house.

“Well…” Soomin began, since she was one of two mates to come with the pack.

Jeonghan clamped a hand over her mouth.

Danbi, however, knew that this was a dead giveaway that you being passed out was her brother’s doing, “Wonwoo!”

“It’s not his fault,” Hanbin suddenly appeared from the kitchen, carrying two mugs in his hand, which he started handing to mates. “_____ was becoming hysterical.”

“Somebody didn’t come back. Who died?” Jia wondered bluntly, though her voice was soft.

She was the only one who didn’t know because nobody wanted to be the one to tell her. Jiung’s pack was grieving and they could hear everything. Nobody wanted to talk about it and make it worse.

Hanbin sighed, a crease forming between his brows, “Our alpha, Jiung.”

“He sacrificed himself for Hansol,” Eunjin spoke up, her voice quiet and airy like her head was somewhere else – and judging from the spacey look, it was. “That’s why I thought Hansol was the death… He indirectly caused it…”

“But Hansol’s also _____’s mate,” Seungcheol continued, making the mates and Chan look up at him in surprise.

Before anyone could say anything, though, Danbi spoke up, “That doesn’t explain why Wonwoo had a vile of that sedative with him!”

Her brother just shrugged, “After Jooyeon, I just kept it on me.”

Hanbin continued to go back and forth from the kitchen – eventually assisted by his mate, Jimin – until each of the pack had a hot cup of tea in their hands. It had started pouring after the pack came inside, but the rain eased up as the tension in the room became less and less. Still, water continued to fall from the sky, and Seokmin refused to look at anybody as he sipped his tea.

“You can all stay here for a little while before going to the other house,” Hanbin said, mustering up a soft smile. “I’m sure Hansol wants to be with _____ anyway.”

“What happens to her?” Joshua suddenly asked. “From what I know, if the werewolf had a werewolf sibling by blood, the sibling becomes alpha.”

“An alpha can also denounce their alpha status if they leave their pack,” Soomin spoke up, being an expert on this thanks to Beom. “If Kyung chooses, she doesn’t have to be their alpha. However, if she wants to be alpha but chooses to come with us to be with Hansol–”

“Doubtful,” Jeonghan commented.

“–then she cannot be her pack’s alpha,” Soomin concluded, ignoring Jeonghan.

“Look, that’s _____’s choice,” Seungcheol spoke up, “and she’s not around, so let’s not discuss it.”

“Let’s discuss how Wonwoo drugged yet another girl,” Danbi spoke up, making the pack erupt with laughter, happy her comment could ease more of the somberness. “You’re really on a roll, Woo.”

“Yeah, he’s really a peach,” Soomin nodded, making Wonwoo’s face turn red as he smiled and rolled his eyes.

-

The pack started to fall asleep in various places of the living room, but Eunjin had noticed Seungcheol excused himself and never returned. She recalled him going outside, so since she was one of the only people still awake -- the voices wouldn’t let her sleep -- she decided to go see what was up. She figured he just couldn’t sleep, and she didn’t blame him considering the events that had occurred.

Eunjin opened the front door and poked her head out. Standing by the railing of the porch was Seungcheol, looking up at the stars. She stepped outside and softly closed the door, walking over to stand beside him. The wood of the deck was cold on her bare feet but it felt nice.

Even though Eunjin sometimes unintentionally snuck up on even the wolves, the alpha knew she was there and began talking to her, still staring up at the stars, “Do you believe in Heaven?” 

Her brows furrowed, “What?”

“I wonder if that’s where Jiung ended up,” he continued, his voice soft. “Or maybe ghosts exist and he’s still around. I don’t know if those voices are ghosts or just...something else.”

Eunjin frowned, looking up at Seungcheol, “You don’t feel guilty, do you?”

He shrugged, “I just feel…sad. He shouldn’t have died. He wasn’t just a leader and a pack brother, he was somebody’s twin brother. He was such a caring person, it just– The whole situation just sucks.”

They both knew the pack was worried for Hansol because of what happened. You blamed him, and Hansol even blamed himself. Not only that, but Joshua pointed out that you weren’t doing well emotionally, and clearly lashed out without thinking things through. If you did anything to yourself, nobody was sure what would happen to Hansol. Sure, he would be patient with you, but if you just flat out denied him, you’d both die. If you ran off and did something to yourself… The question that people wondered was if Hansol would be able to carry on like Joshua had, or if the heartache would be too much for him.

Seungcheol was probably more worried about that right now. Hansol was the second youngest in the pack and Seungcheol wanted to make sure he’d be okay. The alpha wanted to somehow help, but he didn’t know how to. What could he say to help the situation? What could anybody say?

“Where’s Hansol?” the banshee wondered quietly.

“He’s just waiting outside _____’s door,” he replied with a sigh, finally looking away from the stars to look down at his hand on the railing. “He wants to give her space, but he wants to be there for her, too. Jaesang told him that _____’s feeling just as conflicted.”

“Sounds familiar,” she murmured, raising your eyebrows as she recalled not only her own confliction with Seungkwan, but the stories she heard of the alpha and Jooyeon.

Seungcheol chuckled, his golden eyes looking down at his sister, “Kinda does, huh? I guess our pack has an issue with conflicting feelings.”

Eunjin let out a soft sigh and simply nodded. She thought it would be weird to tell Seungcheol that she had a feeling everything would eventually be okay because of what the voices were telling her, so she opted to just leave the conversation on a somewhat lighthearted note.

#seventeen #hansol #vernon #seventeen au #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen oneshot #seventeen fanfic #werewolf!seventeen #hansol au #hansol imagine #hansol scenario #hansol oneshot #hansol fanfic #werewolf!hansol #vernon au #vernon imagine #vernon scenario #vernon oneshot #vernon fanfic #werewolf!vernon

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet (2)

Warnings: this series will be a shorter one and will include blood/blood kink, cutting, noncon, and other triggers to be warned in future parts. (This chapter includes cutting, blood, knives, and noncon)

This features Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes and is explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Notes:

Here’s part two. I dunno when the next update will be but it’ll be on the long list of to dos.

Leave a comment if you like but it's never a demand. I hope you are all safe and healthy. <3 Love you.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

One leg over the other, thumb in your mouth, your phone in your other hand. You once more sat impatiently in Stark Tower. You checked again. No texts. Steve hadn’t answered you since lunchtime but he said he’d see you after work.

“He’s got you waiting again, doll?” Bucky’s voice made you flinch. You pushed your shoulders back and dropped your hand from your mouth.

“Oh, hey,” you said and swallowed the lump in your throat. “You again.”

He smiled as he neared and you leaned back as you expected him to pass you by. He didn’t. Instead, he sat in the chair across from you and sighed. He pushed his legs apart as his fingers curled atop his thighs and he squared his shoulders. He settled in as if he had been on his feet all day and watched you squirm.

“I just saw Steve. He was with Tony. Said he’s gonna be a while.” Bucky said, “But I can let him know you’re here.” The corner of his mouth twitched, “If it was me, I’d sure be hurrying to get out of here.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I can wait.” You crossed your arm across your stomach and clutched your phone with your other hand. How could he act so normal when you felt as if you would vomit on the floor? His words loomed in your mind; “you taste delicious.”

“He’s a lucky guy to have you always waiting around for him.” Bucky’s fingers slipped to the seam along his inner thigh and he rubbed the denim.

“Mhmm,” you nodded and looked down the hall.

“Your hand,” his eyes flitted to the hand around your phone.

“All better.” You said curtly. “Just a scar now.”

“Mmmmm,” he gave a drawn out hum, “That’s good.”

He stood and you slumped as he came to sit beside you. A shiver crawled up your spine as his weight caused the chair to knock against yours.

“What are you--” Your voice lodged in your voice as he reached over and drew your hand over to him.

He wiggled your phone from your grasp and placed it between his legs. He turned your hand over and his thumb traced the line across your palm.

“It’s not so bad.” He remarked. “Scars show character… suffering.”

“Bucky,” you tried to tug your hand back, “I don’t think--”

“Here,” He pulled your hand and placed it on his chest. You felt the firm muscle and the beating of his heart. “I caught a piece of shrapnel in the Netherlands. You can barely see it anymore but it’s there. And here,” He moved your palm to his neck, “Look close and you’ll see where Hydra put the needle. A long mean thing. The sedative didn’t always work.”

“Please, let go of me,” you said quietly.

“And here,” he pressed your hand to his stomach, “Some mission in Austria in the 70s. They wiped my mind but not the scars. The scars help me remember what they took from me.”

“Please…” you gasped weakly.

“Here,” he pushed your hand down to his thigh, “Barely missed the artery…”

“Stop.” You snatched your hand back and your phone clattered to the floor.

Bucky bent to grab it as you watched fearfully. He held it out to you calmly and as you took it, you heard footsteps just around the corner.

“Don’t tell me you’re over here playing with knives again.” Sam chuckled as he strode towards you. “Steve told me to keep an eye out. I always told him not to trust the dude with the fairgrounds claw for an arm with sharp objects but what do I know?”

“Sam,” Bucky sniffed and stood slowly. “Took you long enough.”

“Only when you’re waiting on me,” Sam winked.

You smiled at Sam and avoided looking at Bucky. You grasped your phone between your hands unsure of what to say or do. You wanted to say something; to blow the whistle but somehow you didn’t feel like anyone would believe you. So you forced a laugh and reached for your purse.

“I’m just gonna go.” You hooked the strap over your shoulder, “Steve just texted. He’s gonna be late.”

You brushed past them and tried not to seem too eager to be away. You waited by the elevator and didn’t let out your breath until the metal doors closed behind you. You braced yourself against the wall and slowly raised your cell. You opened up your conversation with Steve.

‘Sorry, babe, headed home to get some extra work done. Wait for you there. Love you.’

The lie was more believable as you reread it. You tucked your phone away and resigned yourself to a train ride home. Yet, even as you left Stark Tower, you could not escape Bucky’s shadow. What he’d said, what he’d done, what you’d fought so hard to deny, could not be ignored any longer. But how would you tell Steve? How could you?

🩸

As you got home, sure to lock the door behind you, you hung up your purse and your phone vibed in your back pocket. You slid it out as you wiggled free of your shoes and leaned against the table as you read the message. It was Steve; ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Meant to text you first. Tony’s keeping me late.’

You sent a frowny face and your phone buzzed again with his quick response. ‘Don’t think that means I won’t be home in time to turn that frown upside down’. You giggled at his cheesy response but the emojis sent in succession assured you of the real meaning of his words.

You took your phone with you and flopped onto the couch. You turned on the television and yawned as your cell rested on the cushion beside you. It didn’t take long for you to forget the day and lose yourself in the episodic comedy.

It was close to an hour before your phone shook again. You didn’t look at it at first as you lazed across the couch. You dug the cell out from under you and swiped the lock screen away. Another message from Steve.

‘Put something nice on, sweetheart ;P’

You shook your head at the text and sent a coy emoji in response.

‘That’s an order from your captain.’ He rebuked in the next message.

Your lips parted. ‘Well, how long are you gonna be?’ You typed quickly.

‘A while. :/ But you can give me a taste while you wait for me.’

‘A taste?’

‘You know what I want.’

You ran your fingertips over your lip and felt the warmth nestle in your pelvis. You hated when he did this; it made your hours apart even more difficult. Yet it was always worth it. You rolled onto your stomach and steadied your phone. You undid the top of your blouse and lifted yourself on one arm. You took a photo of your cleavage and hit send.

‘Something like this?’ You teased.

‘You haven’t changed yet. Bad girl.’

You blinked at the last two words. Steve was flirty but he was rarely so demanding, more needy. You sat up and chewed your lip.

‘Well, it might take me some time to choose.’ You smirked as you sent it.

‘You have two minutes.’

‘Two minutes? or what?’

‘Do you really want to find out?’

You were unsure what to reply with. You stared at your phone and another message popped up. ‘90 seconds’.

You hopped up from the couch and nearly tripped. You typed as you walked blindly to the bedroom. ‘Yes, sir.’

You tossed your phone on the bed and tore open your dresser. You shuffled through your intimates and pulled out the first thing you got a grasp on. You had yet to wear the white number as you favoured the red and black pieces more. You stripped as you phone vibrated on the mattress and struggled to get into the sheer babydoll and untangle the matching thong.

You grabbed your phone and flipped it over. Steve’s countdown filled the chat and you quickly poked at the screen. ‘All done!’

‘Well?’ was his only reply.

You laughed at yourself and opened the camera. You stretched your arm out and looked for and angle. You took a photo from above as you pushed out your chest and pouted. You sent and waited anxiously for a response. You paced until your phone went off again.

‘I want to see all of you.’

You looked around and placed the phone on a pillow against the headboard. You balanced it carefully and set the timer. You hit the button and posed. It took several tries before you were happy and you sent it off.

The emoji response was all you needed. There was a brief lull and your phone went off again. ‘Fuck it. I’m on my way.’

You smiled at the phone and replied, ‘Better be quick or I might finish on my own.’

You set aside your phone and fidgeted restlessly. You weren’t sure what to do until he got there. You sat on the bed and scrolled through your social media but couldn’t think of much else than the pulsing between your legs. It had been a long week and Steve had been distracted and you had been spacey.

As you struggled to keep yourself busy with a mobile game with too many ads, you heard the door. The lock clicked back into place and you listened for the footsteps. But they were quiet and almost indiscernible. Convinced that you might have imagined the noise, you stood as a figure appeared in the door. It wasn’t Steve.

You stopped short as a grin slowly spread across Bucky’s face. He tilted his head as he watched you cross your arms over your lingerie and shy away.

“What are you doing here?” You asked breathlessly as you reached for your robe hung over the chest against the wall.

“Don’t,” he said, “Come on, let me get a look at you.” He leaned on the doorframe. “Pictures don’t do you any justice.”

“What are you--” you hissed as you grabbed the silk robe and glanced over at him. He waved Steve’s phone and dropped it on the dresser just inside the door.

“Looks like someone lost their phone.” He said, “Now…” He reached to his belt and unsnapped the strap of the sheath that held his large kabar, “Put the robe down, doll.”

“What--” You gave a nervous laugh, “Okay, Bucky, it’s not funny anymore. You need to go.”

“Do I?” He slowly drew out his knife.

“You’re not going to…” You watched the blade as he spun the knife easily. “You wouldn’t.”

“Only if you make me… but I wouldn’t mind another taste,” he admired the metal then his blue eyes found you again. “Come on. Sit.” He pointed to the end of the bed as he broke the threshold. “Here.”

“Steve. If he finds out, he’ll--”

“You think he’ll believe you.” His face turned stony. “Hmm? And if he does, do you think I won’t cut your tongue out?”

You gulped. The robe fluttered to the floor as you gaped at him. He wiggled the blade at the foot of the mattress and cleared his throat impatiently. You trembled as you crossed the room. You sat gingerly and watched him stalk closer.

The blade touched your cheek and ran down under your chin. He dragged it along your neck and rested it between your tits that threatened to spill out. You cowered before him as he sliced through the sheer fabric of the baby doll and exposed your stomach.

“I like this. You like to dress up, huh?” He asked.

You clenched your jaw and he slid the kabar under the left strap of the lingerie.

“Answer me, doll.” He warned as he snapped the fabric.

“Yes,” you uttered. “Bucky, please… why?”

“Because… I want to.” He smiled and cut the other strap. The fabric hung below your chest as it fell loose, the cups flipping down against your stomach. “Now, if I have to cut you, you’re going to have to be real convincing so let’s not do that… yet.”

You shuddered. Your mouth was dry and your throat tight. You chest squeezed as you stared up at him.

“It’s up to you, doll,” he poked your shoulder lightly with the kabar, “Can I put this away?”

You glanced down and watched the light shine off the blade. You could see it now, with a little pressure it would sink into your flesh. Your lip quivered and you nodded as you looked up at him.

“Yes, put it away,” you murmured, “Please.”

Content, he licked his lips and rescinded the knife. He slipped it back into the sheath and slid it back on his belt. He looked over you and you bent your arms to hide your chest. He shook his head and flicked your wrist.

“No need to be shy, doll,” he coaxed and unbuckled his belt. “I’m sure as hell not.”

He bit his lip as he undid his fly and rubbed the bulge along the front of his jeans. He groaned and stepped closer to you.

“Go on,” he nodded at himself.

You blinked at him. Your mouth opened and closed dumbly. You looked at his crotch and your arms fell from your chest. He tickled your cheek with his metal fingertips and inhaled deeply.

You touched the elastic of his briefs. You were shaking. You hooked your fingers under and pulled the fabric out. Your vision blurred as you uncovered him from beneath cotton and his thick cock bobbed before you. You rolled his underwear down with his jeans, just to his thighs. You stilled, unable to go on.

“Don’t tease me, doll,” he growled and grabbed the back of your head. “You are painfully good at that.”

You winced and touched his dick. It twitched and you wrapped your fingers around him entirely. You stroked him carefully and he groaned as his fingers caressed your scalp. He purred as your hand slid along his length and he drew you closer and closer.

“I want your mouth,” his hand snaked down to your chin and he rubbed your lip with his thumb.

He pushed his thumb in your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. He retracted his hand and pulled yours away from his dick. He gripped himself and grabbed your shoulder as he prodded your lips with his tip. You clamped your lips shut and looked up at him pleadingly. His eyes were smokey and unrelenting.

“Don’t make me tell you twice.” He rasped.

You closed your eyes and opened your mouth. Your lips stretched around his thick cock as he pushed inside and shuddered at the sensation. His hand went to your head again and he forced himself to your throat. You gagged but he barely seemed to notice as he plunged to his limit.

You could hardly breathe around him. Your throat contracted as you struggled for air and he held himself deep in your throat. His hands came up on either side of your head and his fingers swirled against your scalp. He groaned, long and low.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, “Shit.”

He bucked his hips and you slapped at his forearm. He chuckled and did it again. Spit began to gather around his dick and coated your lips. Your head pounded as he thrust into you sharply. He dropped a hand down to your chest and groped your tit as his other kept your head against him.

You grasped at the front of his shirt as he fucked your face. Your toes curled and your eyes rolled back. You were dizzy from the lack of air and the steady rhythm of his dick sliding in and out of your throat.

“Doll, you’re so good,” he uttered and pinched your nipple, “So fucking good.”

He slammed into you and sent ripples down your spine. He spasmed and let out a brutish grunt as he gripped your jaw and the back of your head. You flailed helplessly as his voice rose around you and a sudden salty wave exploded down your throat and flooded your mouth.

“Fuck,” he slowed and twitched as slipped out of your mouth. He let you go and fell back on the bed as a ribbon of spit and sweat hung down your chin and you coughed up more.

He was adamant as he shoved your legs apart over the edge of the bed. You moaned as wiped your lips as you swallowed the last drops of cum. You nearly wretched and rubbed your throat shakily. You tried to close your legs but he quickly moved between them.

His thumb dragged along the thin crotch of your thong. He circled your clit and flicked so that you winced. You squeaked as he pressed more firmly and felt the satin slicken with your arousal.

You were humiliated and terrified. You reached up and looked at your phone on the night table. If you could get to it, what would you even say?

“Look at you,” he pulled the pants aside and slid his metal fingers along your fold, “You look so sweet.”

“Bucky,” your thighs tensed against him and he pinched you. “Please, no more…”

“You’re begging me to stop,” he played with your cunt with two fingers, “But I just don’t believe it.”

He pushed his thick vibranium digits inside of you without warning. He turned his hand as he slid deeper and rested his thumb against your clit. You cried out and your legs bent against the bed as you clutched at the duvet beneath you.

“You want it,” he moved his fingers in and out as he pressed down on your bud, “Just listen to you.”

You covered your face at the wet sounds of your cunt. He pushed deeper and curled his fingers and the heel of his hand replaced his thumb against your clit. He rocked his hand as his other traced the line of your pelvis. You clenched your teeth as a knot tied inside of you, pulling tighter and tighter and your skin buzzed.

“Come on, doll, almost there,” he moved his hand faster and you exclaimed. “Good girl, so close… so easy.”

He shook your entire body as he fingered you and the string inside you snapped. Your head lolled as you whined and you pushed your feet against his thighs. You felt a gush around his hand and he quickly released your clit and turned his hand as he covered it with his tongue instead. His fingers didn’t relent as he lapped you up and you rode out your orgasm against his face.

He didn’t stop. He kept his mouth on your clit and suckled as your thighs tingled. He shoved a third finger inside of you and you gasped. You were so full and overwrought, you could not help another orgasm as your walls clench around his fingers. He tried another and you whimpered. He removed his pinky again and groaned.

“Hmmm,” he purred as he replaced his thumb against your clit, “We have to loosen you up, doll.”

“Bu--” Your voice crackled and died in your throat as you came again. Again, he licked up your arousal and nuzzled your cunt as he slowly withdrew his hand.

“I’m trying to decide,” he lifted his head and stood clumsily. The stubble along his jaw glistened, his lips too. “You got such a pretty face but your ass…” He thought aloud as he pulled his shirt over his head.

You watched him undress as the haze kept your vision cloudy and reality seemed distant. You turned onto your side and clapped your thighs around your hand as echoes of pleasure flowed through you. Bucky’s thick muscle made you bite your lip as he stepped out of his jeans.

Your eyes found the scars across his flesh; those he had mentioned and others he hadn’t. Naked he bent and fished around beneath his jeans. You flinched at the whisper of metal. You murmured fearfully and sat up. You were dizzy and unable to get further than the foot of the bed.

“It’s okay, doll,” he cooed as he lifted the metal to his chest, “Just a little blood.”

He cut between his pecks, a red line left in the stead of his blade. He shivered and lowered the knife. He placed it behind him on the dresser as blood slowly seeped from the slice. He neared the bed and you pushed yourself away from him. He caught your ankle and dragged you to him as he climbed up.

“Come here,” he pulled you up as he sat on his heels and forced your legs around him. He took your hand and placed it against the gash. He dragged it across chest and smeared the blood in a sickly streak to his shoulder. “Can you feel me?”

You trembled as he kept you against him, his cock prodded you from below as turned your hand away from him. He bent all but two of your fingers and pushed them against your lips.

“Taste me,” he growled.

You shook your head dully and he pushed your fingers harder against your mouth. You parted your lips and the metallic flavour made your stomach flip. He shoved his fingers in over your and held them against your tongue.

His other hand slid along your ass and he lifted you slightly as he poked around blindly with his cock. His tip met your entrance and he eased you down. He impaled you and spread his fingers across your ass. As you settled atop him, he smacked you, hard, and curled his fingers over your own.

“How do I taste, doll?” He dropped his hand at last and your own fell with it. You stared at him aghast and he hugged you against him as he tilted his hips. “Tell me I taste good.”

He rocked below you and you moaned at the fullness. His hot blood spread along your chest as it leaked between your bodies. You resisted a tide of revulsion and swallowed the iron on your tongue.

“You…” you croaked, “...taste… good.”

He lifted you and pulled you back down sharply so your flesh clapped against his. You let out a cry of surprise and he did it again. He bounced you atop him and brought your arm around his neck, squeezing your upper arm as he nuzzled your neck.

“That’s it doll. I feel it.” He snarled, “You fit me so well.”

You mewled as you felt as if you would split in two. He was as big as Steve, maybe thicker, but you suspected it was more than that. He was rough where Steve was gentle, demanding where Steve was coaxing.

He fell onto you and pinned you to the mattress below him. He lifted your right leg and then your left, curling your body as he gripped your ankles against his shoulders. The lines of his stomach were limned in his blood and your own was painted red. He raised himself on his knees and carefully planted his feet. He kept your ass in the air as he hammered into you, your shoulders sinking into the mattress as your weight settled on your neck.

He dipped into you and his metal hand stretched over your pelvis and his thumb flicked your clit. He sped up as you reached out with your arms to ease the pressure in your neck and shoulders, the noise of your flesh was sickening and the smell of blood more so. He gripped your thigh with his other hand and sank his nail into your flesh.

You bit your lip and muffled the pathetic cry of pleasure that rose from your core. Your climaxed violently and convulsed against him, your body contorted to his use. He curled you further and placed his hands on either side of your head. He jolted into you as his hot breath filled the space between you. He growled as he came and filled you with his release.

He stilled only as you felt his cum seeping out around his cock. He dropped back to his knees and your body went limp. He slid in and out of you a few times before he pulled out completely. He stirred his cum with his tip and breathed heavily through his nose.

He poked his finger inside of you suddenly and felt around. He buried himself to his knuckles and slowly drew back. Another gush of his cum dripped down your cunt and played with it as he smeared it along your folds and down your thighs.

He raised his hand to his lips and sucked his finger clean. He sighed as he moved to the edge of the bed and checked the time on your phone. He smirked as he stood and stretched. You rolled onto your side and watched him collect his clothes from the floor.

“What a mess you made,” he taunted as he dressed, “Better clean this up before your old man returns.” He buckled his belt and replaced his kabar in its sheath. He took Steve’s phone and tucked it in his back pocket. “I’ll give this back to him tomorrow. I got some cleaning up of my own to do.”

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #bloody and raw but I swear it is sweet #series #mcu #marvel captain americ

[sionnachoir]

Good Enough (Mikaela Hyakuya x Reader)

(Angstish)

You let out ragged breath’s. “So... I’m not good enough?” You questioned, anger filling your body. Mika frowned at you, rolling his eyes. It felt as though he had stabbed you at that moment, his eyes were as cold an uncaring as the day you met him.

You had thought he was different, your heart felt crushed knowing you were wrong. He could never love you, you were beginning to doubt whether he even had. You wanted someone to show you off, not to be ashamed of you because you were different, prey. That's all you had ever been.

“You know, had you asked I’d have stolen you every star in the sky. But it’ll never be enough. You’ll never love me will you?” You questioned, sadness welling up deep inside of you. You took Mika’s silence as acceptance, not bothering to look up from the ground you had started staring at.

Feeling embarrassment and shame flood you, you turned on your heel and ran. He was as cold as ice as always. You thought he had warmed up to you recently but that had clearly not been the case. You wanted to disappear, completely vanish into thin air. Your heart beat echoed in your ears along with the sound of your feet thudding against the pavement, sobs wracked your body as thick tears streamed down your face.

You must have looked disgusting to the vampires and even other humans you passed as you ran. You felt yourself calm down, seeing your small house comes into view. You shared it with a couple of other humans, getting on with them well. Despite that seeing any of them was at the very bottom of your list, you wanted to run and hide in your bed. As soon as you had gotten close enough to open the door you did, with enough force to almost take it off its hinges. You could hear a few noises of confusion but you ignored the sounds and headed straight for your bed upstairs, quickly collapsing onto it.

Sniffles wracked your body as you tried to use your hands to quiet yourself down, your breathing stuttered as you struggled to taking breath's along with your sobbing. "(Name)?" A worried voice questioned from the door. "G-go away! Leave me al-alone." You're sobbing picked up, your words sounding choked as you had to force them out. You didn't think you could hurt this much without a psychical wound.

Mikaela may as well have ripped out your heart himself with his bare hands, you wondered for a second if you would have preferred it. He was a complete stranger, how had you fallen for a boy you knew almost nothing about? Sure he was incredibly handsome, his bright blue eyes caught the light in such a way that took your breath away. The sun glinting off his blond locks were enough to drive you insane. It shouldn't hurt this much, you told yourself.

The door opened and a taller boy walked in, you ignored his presence to continue your crying session. "(Name) please, I hate seeing you like this." His voice was so soft and calming, you could feel your body relaxing with his words. You heard him move closer before feeling him lie down behind you, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. Your sobbing stopped, you felt exhausted.

Your eyes drooped closed, as your breathing started to still. You wanted to fight off the sleep but you didn't have the energy for it, your friends embrace was too comfy. ______________________________ You sat in between two of your housemates as your blood was being taken. Your hands currently had a death grip on theirs, your fear of needles not quite disappearing while it was still embedded into your arm. 

Yuki let out a squeal, ripping her hand from yours and shaking it around. "I get your afraid of needles! Doesn't mean you need to break my hand!" The older girl whined, getting a chuckle out of your other housemate Shuu. Yuki had long brown hair that fell bellow her waist, her warm brown eyes held a kind gaze despite her words.

"Guess you’re just not as strong as I am." Shuu bragged, he had been the one with his arms around you last night. He was a blond with green eyes, he was rather cute but he had nothing on Mika. You watched your friends biker, not feeling the glaring eyes set upon you. More specifically your hands.

Finally came time for the needles to come out, the vampires quickly took them out and handed you juice to help with your blood. Your head felt spacey as you took slurps from the carton, Noah helped you to your feet, letting you lean on him for support.

Just as you were about to exit a hand wrapped around your bicep, yanking you back with unnatural force into someones chest. You looked up to see Mika with his mouth set into a thin line. "You're coming with me." You gulped as he dragged you out through a corridor to somewhere more private. He found an empty room soon enough and opened the door, neither of you spoke as you made your way here and into the room. Mika closed the door and turned to you, leaning against it. You hadn't seen this look on his face before. Never had you seen someone look so mad, he almost looked jealous.

"Mika I-" He cut you off with a growl and your words instantly died on your tongue. "Who was that?" His voice was deeper then usual, you could feel fear start to settle in. "Noah, my housemate." You couldn't keep the tremble out of your voice, he pushed himself off the door and started walking towards you. You started backing up, worrying what he would do. Eventually your back hit the wall, your knees started shaking. His hands came up beside your head, attaching themselves to the wall.

He moved his head close to your ear, voice dropping into a whisper. "Is that all?" You quickly nodded, squealing out a 'yes'. Mika chuckled, his breath hitting your ear and blowing your hair. You shivered in response to his ice cold breath. 

"Good."

#mikaela hyakuya #hyakuya mikaela #mikaela hyakuya x reader #mikaela hyakuya imagine #owari no seraph #owari no seraph imagine #owari no seraph x reader #seraph of the end imagine #seraph of the end x reader #seraph of the end #ons #ons x reader #ons imagine

[set-phasers-to-whump]

you’re safe now

prompt: hallucination

whumpee: eddie diaz

fandom: 911

hi! here is some eddie and hen content bc i love these 2 so much... i hope you like it! (also sorry about the title i hate it so much but i cannot think lmao)

Eddie is acting off. Sort of spacey and out of it and generally just very much not himself. It’s weirding Hen out, and she can tell by the looks she and the rest of the 118 are sharing that it’s weirding them out too. 

Nobody has said anything to him yet. Bobby had told them that, “he’ll tell us what’s wrong if he feels ready,” and “as long as it’s not affecting his job, I’m not going to pry.” Which Hen gets. She knows how Eddie is. It’s just that she also really wants to know, wants to help, if she can. But she isn’t sure that she should ask in the first place. And Buck (who would absolutely ask, and in fact, probably would have already) is off today, so he’s not talking to Eddie about it either. 

“Do you think we should talk to him?” she asks Chim, in a quiet moment when the both of them are sitting together on the couch. She glances pointedly at Eddie, who is sitting at the counter, staring off into space with a blank look on his face. 

“Do I want to? Hell yes. Do I think we should? Probably not. You know Eddie.”

That she does. But still. She has a feeling this is more than an off day, more than just being a little out of it. 

Her concern for her friend outweighing her respect of his privacy, Hen gets up from the couch, determined to sit down next to Eddie and gently pry until he tells her what’s wrong. 

She doesn’t get the chance. She’s halfway to the stool next to Eddie when he shoves himself up and stumbles backwards from the counter. Hen hurries to steady him, but he’s already moving away, backing up until his back hits the wall. 

“Eddie?”

He sinks down, scooching himself sideways and into the corner. He looks like he’s shaking. The color has drained from his face and his eyes are wide and he looks afraid. It’s a look Hen has rarely seen on him, and now she knows something is really, seriously wrong. 

She approaches him slowly, carefully, narrating what she’s doing until she’s crouched in front of him. Eddie shows no signs of even being aware of her presence. 

This close, she can hear his erratic breathing, and she can feel heat radiating off of his skin. He has a fever, and a bad one at that. Hen’s about to call for help when Eddie sort of eliminates the need by screaming. It’s raw and terrified and loud and so completely unlike him that it makes her jump. 

“Eddie!” Hen says, trying desperately to get his attention. He stops screaming but then just sits there, panting and shaking and making these soft and scared noises that tear at her heart. 

“What’s going on?” Bobby is running up the stairs to the loft, Chim and Probie close behind him. 

“I’m not sure yet,” Hen says. “He’s got a fever and he’s panicking but -”

Wait a minute. It’s much more common in children and the elderly, but…

“He could be hallucinating, if his fever’s high enough.”

“Eddie? Can you see me?” Bobby asks, stepping in closer.

No answer. Eddie pushes himself further into the corner, like he’s trying to get away from Bobby, who takes a few steps back.

“Can you hear me?” Hen tries.

Nothing. 

But Eddie doesn’t back away from her, so Hen reaches out a careful hand and touches the inside of his wrist. He doesn’t pull away. 

As she’d expected, his pulse is racing. She counts the beats. “His BPM is at least 180, but it’s increasing. Cap, we might need to get him to the hospital. Especially if he is hallucinating.”

Bobby nods. “Chim, go prep the ambulance. Hen, try and calm him down so we can actually get him into it.”

Chim nods and hurries down the stairs, with Ravi following behind him. Bobby stays, but positions himself further away from Eddie and Hen. 

“Eddie?” Hen tries, again. “Eddie, can you look at me?”

She carefully places a hand on his cheek. His skin is blistering to the touch and he unconsciously leans into her cool hand. Hen wonders how exactly they missed this all morning. Then again, Eddie’s always been good at hiding things. 

“Eddie? Please look at me. I promise you, whatever you’re seeing, whatever’s scaring you, it’s not going to hurt you. You’re safe. You’re safe, Eddie. You’re at the 118. You’re with me, and you know I’m not gonna lie to you. You’re safe.”

Finally, Eddie looks at her. The eye contact is unnerving and frankly heartbreaking. There’s a mixture of fear and grief and pain in Eddie’s eyes, and Hen doesn’t think she has ever seen him this vulnerable. 

“Hen?” Eddie’s voice is low and unsure and fragile, but it’s there. Hen sighs in relief. 

“That’s right,” she says. “It’s me.”

“I saw...there was…” She can hear the panic in his voice, which has just confirmed her suspicions - hallucinations. He doesn’t need to talk about them right now, though. That is certainly not going to help him relax.

“Shh, it’s okay. It wasn’t real, it was just a hallucination. Whatever you saw, you’re safe now.”

A look of confusion briefly crosses Eddie’s face, but it’s quickly replaced with one of exhaustion. 

“I don’t feel good,” he says, and some of the fear is now bleeding out of his voice and his face. Hen relaxes slightly - he seems to have stopped hallucinating, at least for the time being. And he’s now able to focus on how bad this fever must feel.

“I bet you don’t,” she says, sympathetically. “You’ve got a pretty high fever.”

Eddie hums in response, leaning his head back against the wall and letting his eyes flutter closed. Hen taps his cheek lightly. 

“None of that,” she says sternly. “You’re going to the hospital.”

That catches his attention. “Why?”

“Because you have a fever high enough to cause hallucinations. You need medical attention, and before you say it, I don’t count yet. You need a doctor, and that’s what you’re getting.”

“Okay,” Eddie agrees. Hen takes that as an indication of how bad he must feel - normally, she imagines he’d be fighting tooth and nail to avoid going. 

“Okay?” Hen asks, and he gives a small nod. She stands, then, and reaches her hands down to pull Eddie to his feet. 

He leans heavily into her when they stand up together, his body heat soaking right through her uniform. His fever is probably at least 104, and the fact that he is standing at all is a miracle. 

“Let’s get you taken care of, okay?” Hen asks, beginning their slow, awkward walk down to the ambulance. 

“Okay,” Eddie agrees, doing his best to walk along but mostly just hanging onto Hen as she walks for the both of them. He stumbles a bit as they hit the stairs, and Hen pulls him closer, not letting him fall. 

“I’ve got you,” she promises, as his hands cling even more tightly onto her shirt. “I’ve got you.”

thanks for reading this! i hope it wasn’t too bad :)

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump25 #hallucination #hallucinating #911 #eddie diaz #fever #my writing #i say things #god it has been such a long week #so this may not be so good #but i am exhausted so this is alll lmao #gn!

[ponds-puddle]

Day Out ~{Shinso}~ (4/??)

word count: 1790 

part one / part two / part three

SERIES MASTERLIST

- 

“So about the homeless man,” your friend Jirou said as she plopped on your bed. You huffed stubbornly at her comment.

“I told you that he’s not homeless.” 

“He never gets off on his stop,” she said dully, “Maybe because he doesn’t really have any specific stop so he just wanders around your neighborhood at night. Good job, Y/N. You have a homeless man for a stalker.” 

“Jirou, he isn’t stalking me. If he was, wouldn’t I have run into him a second time a lot sooner?”

“He’s good at what he does,” she drones before looking at you, “You’re not his first.” 

“Jirou, you’re so uncalled for.” 

“You’re uncalled for,” she scoffed lamely before dropping her head back onto the bed dramatically.

“Did you ever truly grow up past five? I don’t think I’ve seen you change a single bit from then on.” 

Jirou laughed at you, not phased by your comment. The two of you have such a strange but beautiful relationship. Rather than being sweet to one another, the two of you just constantly roast one another. It’s a lot more entertaining that way. 

Truth is that you’ve known Jirou all your life. The two of you grew up next to each other. The two of you had that perfect friendship thing. The windows in both of your rooms faced one another. The two of you were destined to be friends and no one could tell you two otherwise. 

“Seriously though, Y/N…” Jirou said stiffly. You turned curiously at the girl, “Are you sure you’re not putting yourself in any danger meeting him at night? My patrol isn’t too far away. I can always walk you home at nights.” 

“Jir,” you said sweetly, “I promise that I’ll be okay. If anything happens, the way to my house has lots of plants. So I’ll be fine.” 

“Do you think that he’d do anything?” 

The air seemed so thick, “No.” 

Jirou didn’t look at you, but your eyes never once left her. You were somehow very certain, almost one hundred percent certain, that Shinso wouldn’t hurt you. There was no reasoning behind your thoughts. But there weren’t any to think otherwise either. 

“I believe you.”

“Good, now can you, like, insult me or something now? That was way too serious for us.”

Jirou laughed, She definitely agreed. 

-

“Why are you here? It’s not the middle of the night,” you joked with the purple haired boy sitting in his usual seat on the train. You were glad you weren’t the only one who automatically went to those seats if they’re open. Something about them seemed comforting. They were familiar. 

“I do have a life, you know.” 

“Actually I did not know that,” you commented pointedly as you sat beside him, “I don’t know much of anything about you.” 

“Same here,” he said while turning to look at you, “I think that’s part of the fun, don’t you?” 

You wanted to agree with him on instinct, but you didn’t, “Actually I would like to know more about you. I feel like knowing you would be more fun, you know?” 

The way you said it was so innocent, but Shinso could tell that you were throwing a tiny dagger along with your words. You were serious about it. You were determined to be friends with him, and for a moment Shinso felt afraid of this smiling creature in front of him. So stubborn. But at the same time so irritatingly interesting. 

“Yeah,” he said in a puzzled tone, wondering what it was about you that was making his heart beat so fast right now. 

“You good?” 

“Yeah just… thinking,” he shook it off, finally looking you in the eyes, “It’s nothing.” 

God his eyes are beautiful. 

All your life you have surrounded yourself in varieties of colors. Everyday of your life was filled to the brim with vibrant and intense colors. But not as intense as the color of his eyes. They could almost compare to lavender, but you have never seen a shade of lavender sparkle the way his eyes do. Maybe it was the reflection of the stars and lights in his irises, but whatever it was made you rethink whatever you once believed to be your favorite color. When you were with him, his purple outshines every other color you’ve seen. 

“What are you thinking about?” Shinso asked you sweetly, leaning his cheek into his palm. He looked so cute with the way his face squished against his hand. You suppressed a giggle, instead just giving him the softest of smiles. 

“I really like the color of your eyes.” 

Shinso froze slightly, his eyes widening slightly at your confession. He allowed his expression to stray from the norm for just a second more before replacing it with his usual smirk. 

“I like yours too.” 

A bright blush invaded your cheeks, humoring Shinso. He didn’t comment on it however, not wanting you to cover it from him. 

“What are you doing today?” 

“Grocery shopping, you?” 

“I actually just got off work. I wasn’t sure what I was gonna do today.” 

“You could join me if you want?” 

“I wouldn’t be intruding?” 

Shinso picked up your work bag before standing up and holding his hand out to you. Your hand reached out and met his as if on instinct, allowing him to pull you up from your seat. 

“You wanted to get to know me right?” he asked smoothly, suavely moving a piece of hair behind your ear, “Now’s your chance.”

- 

“How old are you?” 

“24, you?” he replied, spinning the produce bag before placing it in his cart.

“23, and your questions can’t all be asking the same thing to me. That’s cheating.” 

He rolled his eyes, pointing at the apples behind you, “Three please. And it’s not cheating. Maybe I just like your questions?” 

“Make up your own,” you laughed, handing him the bag of apples you had packed. He gave you a quiet “thank you” before placing it in the cart.

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, drawing a laugh out of you, “What’s your favorite animal?” 

“Elephants!” you said excitedly. Shinso’s eyebrows raised at your enthusiasm, “Sorry, I just really like them.” 

“It’s your turn,” he laughed as he walked away with the cart, his hand coming out to hold onto your elbow. In the little time that he has known you, he’s realized how spacey you could get. He was sure if he didn’t keep his eye on you, you’d end up lost. He thought you were the cutest thing in the world. 

“Right,” you said with a little hum, unphased by him pulling you along, “What do you do for a living?” 

Shinso frowned. He couldn’t really tell you he was a hero. Not after he lied and said that he didn’t have a quirk. He stayed silent for a moment, pretending to be interested in a box of mac n cheese in his hand. 

“Shinso?” 

“Hm?” 

“What do you do for a living?” 

“Oh I-” 

“Shinso!” a loud voice broke through. He sighed in relief, not really sure what he was going to reply to that anyways. The relief didn’t last long, however. Not when he saw who had called him. 

“Kaminari,” he sighed, causing you to frown. Why did he seem so upset to see the boy? 

“I haven’t seen you in so long!” he dramatically hung himself on the boy, forcing him into a hug. 

“Think maybe it was on purpose?” 

Kaminari gasped, pulling away from the boy and holding his “broken” heart, “Shinso, after all we have been through? You wound me.” 

“Oh go short-circuit,” Shinso laughed, causing Kaminari to join in with him. You watched the two boys with a small smile on your face. You had never seen Shinso talk to anyone else before. He seemed so different with his friends than he does when he’s with just you. He’s meaner, but you can tell that it’s all jokes. You wonder what he would sound like when angry.

“Who is this?” 

“Leave her alone, Kaminari,” Shinso said with a straightened spine, knowing exactly how perverted his friend could act. You looked up at the stranger with a smile, not sure why Shinso had suddenly gotten so serious.

“Don’t listen to him,” you said as you stepped up to be stood beside Shinso, “I’m Y/N.” 

Denki looked between you and Shinso for a moment, “No way,” he gasped.

“Kaminari,” Shinso said warningly.

“Dude, she’s way cute,” he gushes, stepping closer to you. It didn’t feel threatening, but you could tell that Shinso wasn’t too happy with him advancing on you, “When’d you get yourself a girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Shinso said stubbornly, beginning to look for a way out of this conversation. He was hoping Kaminari wouldn’t mention the whole hero thing. He wasn’t sure how he could talk himself out of that right now. 

“Then you’re single?” Kaminari’s eyes were now attached to you. You looked up at Shinso, seeing his uncomfortable features. A frown fell onto your lips, you didn’t like seeing him look like that. 

“No,” you lied, “Shinso is actually helping me pick out something to make for my girlfriend tonight. It’s our anniversary today. I’m a hopeless cook, but Shinso,” you placed your hands onto Shinso’s arm, causing him to look down at you, “is an absolute saint and my own personal hero and offered to help out. We’re actually in a little bit of a time crunch, so is it alright if we cut this short? I wanna get everything put out before she gets off work.” 

The farewells didn’t last long. However when Kaminari went in for a hug, Shinso gently pulled you to the side. You watched with a stifled laugh as the boy fell straight to the floor. You wanted to help the boy stand, but you were at a loss when Shinso took your hand and pulled you away from the loud blonde boy. 

“Sorry about that,” Shinso said gruffly, letting go of your hand. A small pout threatened your lips at the loss of contact.

“It’s fine, but you owe me dinner now.” 

Shinso looked down at you in surprise, only to see you staring straight ahead with a proud smile on your face. He smiled softly, “You sure your girlfriend won’t mind?” 

“The only girls I have in my life are my best friend Jirou and cat, Nakoma.” 

Shinso’s face broke out in a smile, “You have a cat?” 

Seeing the excitement on his face warmed your heart, “How about we have dinner at my place tonight? You can meet her?” 

He seemed to think about it for a moment before nodding, “Yeah I’d like that.” 

#shinsou #shinsou x reader #shinsou fanfiction #shinsou fic #shinso fic #shinso #shinso x yn #shinso x you #shinso x reader #shinso x y/n #shinso hitoshi #shinso hitoshi fluff #shinso fluff #shinso fanfic #hitoshi shinso #mha shinso #mha x reader #fanfic fluff #mha fluff #kaminari #denki #denki kaminari

[multiplefandomsblog]

Demi Bourbon x fem!Reader (smut)

Warnings: nsfw, lesbian sex, drunk consent, drunk sex, sex in confined space, alcohol, collar/leash play, reader is thicc, unedited

You’ve been in the manor for quite a while, and you’re feeling kind of lonely. You’re not one to make friends or socialize, but everyone seems so nice and you maybe want to give it a shot. Especially this one girl, Demi Bourbon.

You always envied her for her friendliness, you’ve always wanted to be friends with her, maybe even more, but you never built up the confidence to actually talk to her. One day, you were wracking up the confidence to start a conversation with her again, but it seems she beat you to it.

She walks up to you and stops at a comfortable distance away from you, sensing your anxiety. “Hi! I’m Demi. Demi Bourbon.” She didn’t speak too loudly, not wanting to scare you away or make you uncomfortable. You assume she knew you were trying to talk to her, noticing your small stares and uncomfortable shifting towards her. 

“Me and a few friends are going to head over to the bar to grab a few drinks and hang out, you’re welcome to join us but don’t feel too pressured to. If you do decide to though, we’re going to be near the front doors of the manor, okay?” She tried her best not to make you feel pressured, and you noticed it. Feeling your heart flutter from her consideration of your feelings, you nodded.

Replying with a small determined, “I-I’ll be there.” She smiled widely at you, clearly ecstatic that you accepted. “Awesome! G-great wow um, so I’ll see you in an hour!” She waved goodbye, happily skipped away.

An hour later I made my way to the agreed location. Demi sees me and gives me her hand to hold. Once I take it she leads me outside of the manor doors with a group of her friends waiting outside. You see a few familiar faces; Vera, Martha, Fiona, Eli and surprisingly, Emily is here too. I never thought of her as the drinking type. We call enough cabs to fit the 7 of us and head over to the town pub. Its dark out, even though it’s only 6pm. “Have you ever went out drinking before?” Demi asked me. I respond with a truthful “No.” she hums understandingly, and the rest of the ride is filled with a comfortable silence.

We arrive at the pub, and surprisingly, it’s not as crowded as I thought it would be. We walk in and grab a few seats. It’s all comfortable, normal conversation before all the ruckus starts when Demi starts chugging several whiskey bottles. I’ve never had strong alcohol before, only small sips of my moms wine or my dad’s beer.

I ordered a beer, considering it doesn’t have too much alcohol, but enough to make me at least enjoy this experience. I thought I’d only be drinking one bottle and call it a night, but everyone started to cheered me on to down some shots, and damn, the burn in my throat felt good. I’d finish shot after shot, and eventually, I was drunk as balls. Everyone else was too, but it was weird considering I’ve never been drunk before. 

I felt really hot, and started taking off my sweater, revealing my graphic t-shirt to everyone else. It was of a show I really liked as a kid, and wearing it on my shirt made me feel nostalgic. “Heyyyyy I *hic* know that shooowwww!” Demi said, slurring her words together, pointing at the print on my chest.

“Hehhee,, it was my favourite when I was a *hic* kid...” I managed to spit out some words. I felt good, but it also feels so, so strange. “hehe, me too...” Demi got quieter, she looked at me with a dazed look on her face and grabbed my collar to pull me closer to her. Then all of a sudden, she started kissing me-no, not just kissing- Full. On. Making. Out. 

I couldn’t tell if my face was red from blushing or from being the alcohol, but I was into it, and so was she. She let go of my collar and started to wrap her arms around my neck, and I placed my hands on her sides while pushing my face harder and harder into hers. She started to pull away and said “Let’s take this somewhere else, yeah?”

She breathed out, out of breath from earlier. I agreed and we started walking around the bar, looking for somewhere private to do the dirty. We found the janitors closet unlocked, and decided to do it there. We rejected the idea of doing it in a pub washroom cause there’s probably going to be people walking in to hurl or take a fat dump, and that would totally ruin the mood. 

We open the door and turn the lights on, then close it and lock it once we’re inside. It’s pretty spacey, and it smells pretty okay from all the lemon and lime scented cleaning supplies. Demi takes my shirt collar again and we continue making out for a few minutes, then she starts unbuttoning her shirt and unbuckling her belt, and I’m feeling hotter, if that’s even possible.

She takes them off and lays it on the empty section of the shelf with the belt behind her. She’s wearing this black lace bra, and her boobs are huge. I’m getting insecure about mine, and when she walks over to me to help get my clothes off, her breasts bounce with every step. She’s probably a DDD cup.

I’m just a (c/s) cup. “Are you sure you want to do this?” She whispered this in my ear, and I almost closed my legs from how horny I’m getting from this. “Yes. I want to do it so hard with you.” I feel so dirty saying this, but I’m drunk, so who cares. Let’s have sex!

I take off my pants and shoes on my own while she takes off her apron thing and leggings. I’m feeling really embarrassed and insecure of my body. I have hip dips, and a little muffin top starting to spread. My arms are a little flabby, and my thighs are definitely on the thick side.

Demi has a gorgeous body, tall, but not too tall, slim, wide hips, big boobs, skinny waist, perfectly balanced. Perfect. At least in my eyes she is. She eyes me up and down while smirking. Not even being drunk can make me confident. My self esteem is non existent.

Her smile grows wider when our eyes meet. “Oh, Y/N, you look gorgeous. I never thought you’d have such a hot body, hiding under all those baggy clothes.” She starts walking towards me and grabs my arms to pull them away from me trying to hide my tummy. She starts taking her panties off, and I do the same.

She starts sucking on her fingers to get them nice and wet, the starts rubbing my already wet cunt with her middle and ring finger, I jump at the feeling, I’ve never been touched there by anyone else before. We start kissing again, more gently this time though.

She backs me up onto wall and continue, then she shoves her fingers up my hole, slowly, and I can’t help but yelp a little “nnhgg hhh” I start breathing a little heavier, even though we’ve barely started. “Relax, you’re doing great.”

She reassures me, and I believe her. She starts groping my boobs with her other hand, and picks up the pace with fingering. We keep making and she keeps fingering me until I cum. I’m so drenched down there, I want to do something that’ll please her.

“Can I uh- lick you down there?” I sound so sheepish, so embarrassed. She just said sure, and we started. Her back was against the door while I was on my knees bellow her, face right in front of her cunt.

I start etching closer, and start licking her parts. She lets out a quiet groan, and I go a little deeper. Her thighs are squished against my ears and my mouth and chin are drenched with her wet pussy, and I’m eating her out like there’s no tomorrow.

Her breathing gets heavier, and she lets out a few moans here and there. “Oh, Y/N, you’re amazing!” She gasps out. I’ve never done this before, so I’m glad she’s enjoying it. I start sucking on her clit a little harder than before, and it seems she’s about to cum.

She lets out a loud moan and grabs my hair with her hands, while squishing her thighs tighter around my head. After she calms down, I wipe my mouth and stand back up. As I rise, I kiss her legs, then her hips, then her stomach.

Once I get to her breasts, I start sucking on her hard nipples and her hand is on my neck, while she moans my name. I start gently rubbing her clit with my hand and start to finger her too. It’s hot and sweaty, I never thought I’d be able to touch Demi like this.

She stops me after a bit, and says “I want to try something different, would you be okay with that?” I replied with an “okay.” and she starts walking back to her pile of clothes. She grabs her belt and walks back over to me, wrapping the belt around my neck like a collar and a leash. “Is this okay?” She asks. “It’s fine.” I reply.

I never thought I’d be into kinky stuff like this, but why not try. We sat on top of a table in the middle on the side of the room, and knocked off all the old rags and cleaning supplies laying on it. She leads me with the belt collar over to the table and we sit on top if it.

She asks me to spread my legs, and I do as she says. She does the same, and gets closer, close enough to rub our cunts together. She keeps her hand tight on the belt, tugging on it sometimes. She uses her other hand to rub our clits a bit more, and I feel like I’m about to cum again.

We keep doing this, getting all wet on each other, her keeping a tight grip on the belt leash. After that, we put our clothes back on and head back to our group to not keep them waiting.

The ride back to the manor was silent, but when I was twisting my doorknob to go back to my room, she walked past me and whispered in my ear “we should do that again, sometime. Maybe in a bed.” and continued her way down the hall while chuckling to herself a little.

#mod toby #identity v one shots #identity v fanfic #identity v smut #identity v #identity v barmaid #notsfw #identity v demi bourbon

[serenlyss]

Parallel

Fandom: The Owl House Rating: G Relationships: lumity, luz & her mom, amity & her family Summary: Luz and Amity have more in common than just their favorite book series. Crossposted to AO3: Parallel

This one-shot is set between Enchanting Grom Fright and Wing it like Witches. I just can't stop thinking about how Amity and Luz are kind of foils for each other and how their families are so different but similar in certain ways. I feel like they'd bond over their respective parental drama. Anyway this show has stolen my heart and Lumity slays me so have some gay bonding.

---

Something’s off with Luz.

It isn’t difficult for Amity to notice. She’s a perceptive young witch; it’s a quality she’s always considered to be a strength of hers, and she knows more than she lets on, but Luz is also notoriously easy to read. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and she doesn’t mince her words--not when she really means it. It’s a trait of hers that makes Amity feel simultaneously warm and envious, but it also means that Amity is acutely aware of every shift in her friend’s moods and mannerisms. Today, it would seem, her balance is especially skewed.

The two of them had retreated to Amity’s library hideout after classes for their now-frequent reading sessions, a tradition Luz had dubbed the “Azura Book Club” despite the fact that Amity’s personal collection is far larger than just a handful of fantasy novels. Over the past few sessions, Amity had begun to introduce to Luz a few of her favorite novels that originated from the Boiling Isles itself, and for the last few sessions, the human girl had been practically glued to her side while she eagerly read over Amity’s shoulder. Amity would swear up and down that the close proximity definitely does not make her so nervous that she can hardly focus on the page in front of her, but if Luz notices her slower reading pace and persistently flushed face, she has yet to comment on it.

This afternoon, however, Luz is keeping her distance. She still sits close enough to Amity that their knees touch where they’re sharing the same giant beanbag chair, and it’s still intimate enough to set off the alarm bells in Amity’s definitely-not-distracted mind, but she’s been uncharacteristically quiet all afternoon. There are no excited comments, no involuntary noises in response to the surprising events happening in the narrative, not even a quiet chuckle at the book’s various jokes and hijinks. In fact, now that Amity reflects on the prior school day and even into that morning, Luz has been kind of spacey and distracted all day. Well, more than usual, and in a different way than Amity has learned is typical of her. She keeps pulling out her phone and fiddling with it, unlocking it with some kind of purpose only to hesitate and return it to her pocket every time. Even now, when Amity turns her head to see if Luz has finished the page they’re on, she sees that her friend isn’t even looking at the book at all, and she’s holding her phone in both hands. Her gaze has wandered over to a shelf to her right, but when Amity tilts her head to get a better look, she sees that Luz isn’t looking at anything in particular at all. She seems lost in her own head, unfocused. From this angle she even looks a little sad, her mouth turned down into a persistent frown that Amity doesn’t see very often.

Amity swallows, contemplating what she should do. Should she play dumb and act like nothing’s wrong, try to smooth things over? She’s never been a very… emotionally intimate person, at least not on the outside, and she doesn’t want to pry into anything personal Luz might be experiencing for fear that it might drive her away. Stop overthinking things so much, she mentally berates herself, recognizing her bad habit and attempting to squash it. Luz isn’t the kind of person to get angry over something like this. It’s Amity who dislikes the prying.

“Um,” she finally speaks up, attempting to grab Luz’s attention. It works, and she watches Luz blink and straighten up in her seat, as though awakening from a trance. Immediately, the sad fog that had been enveloping her gaze subsides, and she musters a meaningful--if unusually small--smile, quietly prompting Amity to continue. Once again, Amity considers playing it off, turning the subject to a new book or a happier, more lighthearted conversation, and again she corrects herself. “Are you okay?” she asks instead, nervously thumbing the corner of the book’s page to release some of her apprehension. “You’ve been spacing out, and you keep pulling out your phone. Are you expecting a call or something?”

Amity’s never seen a person stuff their phone into their pocket faster than Luz. Her smile turns sheepish, and Amity almost misses the flash of guilt that passes through her expression for just a moment. “Oh! Nah, I’m not expecting anything. Just antsy, I guess,” she deflects. It only serves to make Amity more worried.

“Are you sure? You just seem… out of it, I guess.” She turns her gaze down to the book still open in her lap, frown deepening. “I mean, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, especially if it’s something personal, but, um…” She trails off, feeling the telltale rise of a blush on her face. What a time to start feeling bashful! “W-we’re friends, right? You can tell me if something is bothering you. Because we’re friends.” She stumbles over her words a bit, wincing internally at her own lack of tact. Could she be any more awkward?

Still, Luz does look a bit relieved to hear this, and she nods her head. “Yeah, of course,” she says immediately, with full confidence in the statement. It eases Amity’s nerves every so slightly, but it also brings with it a tinge of disappointment. Somehow the word “friend” doesn’t feel quite right. But now isn’t the time for that, Amity reminds herself, pushing that thought out of her mind for the time being.

Luz lets out a loud sigh and flops back on the beanbag, jostling Amity in the process. “I really am okay,” she continues, her voice more self-assured this time. “I just… I’m worried about my mom.”

Amity blinks, a little surprised by the admission. Luz doesn’t talk about her parents very often; it seems to be a sore subject for her, and Amity doesn’t dare bring it up with her, not after Grom. Apparently it’s been eating at her more than she’s let on, for it to lead to this. “What about her?” she prompts, swallowing back her own worry. She slips a bookmark between the pages of the novel they’d been reading to mark their place, then sets it aside to focus all her attention on Luz. “Is she not responding to you?”

Luz musters up a wry smile. “Kind of the opposite, actually. She sends me texts almost every day,” she replies, an obvious fondness creeping into her voice.

Amity is… confused. It’s obvious that Luz loves her mother, and from what little Luz has said, her mother loves her just as much. “I don’t understand,” she says with a shake of her head. “Do you not like getting messages from her?”

“I do!” Amity says quickly, almost in a panic, like she’s afraid of anyone thinking otherwise. “That's not what I meant.” She lets out a groan of frustration, giving her legs a kick and scrubbing her hands over her face. She’s silent for a moment, hands hiding her expression, before she finally peeks out from under them to glance in Amity’s direction. “Hey, if I tell you something, can you, um, keep it between us?”

Her voice is quieter now, layered with an air of secrecy, and it just makes Amity more curious. Still, she suppresses her inner gossip for the sake of respecting Luz’s feelings. “Of course,” she responds honestly. “What happens in the club, stays in the club.” She recites a line Luz is fond of repeating whenever their club discussions turn more personal, but this feels like an extra weighty secret for Luz to be sharing.

Still, her attempt at humor pays off, winning a genuine smile from Luz, who immediately blurts out, “My mom doesn’t know I’m here.”

Amity blinks, shocked, and is quiet for a few seconds as she processes this information. “Wait, what? How does she-I mean, she knows you’re not home, right?” she presses, frantically trying to wrap her head around this situation.

“She thinks I’m at summer camp,” Luz clarifies, clear disdain for the camp tinging her words. “She’d freak out if she knew I was here!” Guilt starts to take over her expression again, tugging her lips into a deep frown. “You saw her at Grom, right? That’s what I’m afraid will happen when she finds out I ditched her camp. I’m supposed to be learning boring adult stuff, like how to be polite and not say weird things and, I dunno, file taxes? Adults do that, right?” She throws her hands up in the air, huffing.

Amity shakes her head, a little overwhelmed. Sure, she’d suspected something was up at Grom, but she hadn’t known just how deep her rabbit hole goes. “Taxes?” she mumbles to herself in confusion, then gives her head a shake. That isn’t the important part. Staring down at Luz’s expression, Amity feels bad. Luz is obviously agonizing over this on the inside, and has been since the day she’d arrived at the Boiling Isles. Something in Amity really hates seeing the way Luz avoids her gaze, like she’s ashamed to be admitting this. She’s twitchy, too, looking for any way to let out her nervous energy. At the moment, she fiddles with her fingers, crossing and uncrossing them, and picking imaginary dirt from underneath her fingernails.

Amity lets out a long breath, steeling her nerve, and flops back onto the beanbag at Luz’s side. The force of it jostles them both, and despite herself, Luz can’t help but let out a little laugh when she’s nearly thrown onto the ground. She wiggles around to reposition herself, and Amity nearly chokes on a breath when Luz’s arm presses against hers and comes to rest there. She’s suddenly very aware of how hard her heart is beating, sitting so close to Luz like this, but she doesn’t dare move, for fear of disrupting the moment. Her voice cracks just a bit when she says, softly, “Why are you so intent on hiding it from her? I don’t know much about humans, but is it really so bad for you to be spending time here, with us?”

Luz sighs dejectedly. “That’s the thing. Everything about this place, everything that I love, is the reason she wanted to send me away in the first place!” she says. “You may not get it, but I’m not just a weirdo here, Amity. I’m a weirdo on Earth, too.”

“Of course you’re a weirdo, I already know that,” Amity says before she can stop herself. She can’t hide the snickers that bubble up in her throat when Luz hits her on the shoulder good-naturedly.

    “Not funny,” Luz complains, but Amity can see the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

    Amity swallows down her laughter. “Sorry, sorry. It’s not an insult, promise. I like your weirdness,” she admits, hastily turning away before Luz can see the easy blush that comes to her face so often these days.

    She hears Luz laugh softly beside her, and takes it as a victory. “Thanks,” she murmurs. “I wish everyone could accept it like you and Willow and Gus do. My mom sent me away to camp because she wanted to fix my weirdness. No fanfiction, no cat ear sweaters, no fantasy novels. I know she’s just worried about me, but it’s not like I’m hurting anyone! Is it really so bad that I like nerdy things and want to geek out about them?” Turning to look at Amity, she forces a grin. “Don’t answer that. I promise it’s no big deal, it’s just something I worry about sometimes-”

    Luz keeps talking, but Amity is frozen. She hesitates to admit it out loud, but Luz’s words hit a little too close to home for her liking. Flashbacks of her younger self being scolded by her parents crop up in her mind, punishments for silly things; associating with the wrong people, participating in activities they didn’t approve of, ditching her studying in favor of something fun. Instances where her parents had pushed her away from what she wanted and towards their own ideal. It all made so much sense now. “I totally get it,” she blurts out, surprised and astounded that she and Luz, from two completely different worlds, maybe even different dimensions, could have something so intimate and personal in common.

    Luz looks surprised, too. “You do?” she says.

“Yeah, I really do,” Amity echoes, and a smile breaks out on her face despite the heaviness of the topic. Of everyone she’s ever met on the Boiling Isle, only her own siblings have really related to her family’s… complicated dynamic, and Edric and Emira aren’t exactly people Amity is keen on confiding in. “My parents do it too. You saw them, in Willow’s mind. They do stuff like that all the time. I’m a Blight, after all, I have a reputation to uphold on their behalf. If you don’t do things their way, you get scolded, right? Can’t go giving off “the wrong impression” or it reflects badly on them. Your mom wants you to do what she wants, not what you want. That’s exactly how my parents are with me and my siblings.”

Luz is staring at Amity in stunned silence, sympathy clouding her gaze. “Yeah, that’s exactly what it’s like,” she sighs. “It’s hard, trying to live up to her expectations without feeling like I’m giving up everything I love. Is it hard for you, too?”

Amity shrugs. “I guess. My parents are easier on me than on my siblings, though,” she admits, clasping her hands over her stomach. Her elbow rubs against Luz’s in the process, but her friend doesn’t seem to notice. “Ed and Em were under super strict control when they were younger. I guess they coped with it by rebelling wherever they could. They still do.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Mom and Dad still try to keep them under control, but, well, you’ve seen them. They don’t take orders easily.”

Luz giggles softly at this, nodding her head. “I’m an only child. I think Mom feels like if I keep going down the path I’m on, that I’ll somehow ruin my life and make her out to be a bad mother, but it’s not true. I don’t know how to explain to her that I’m just fine the way I am, and that I’m not going to end up a failure just because I still like to read fantasy books.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Amity reassures her. “In the meantime, you can be as weird as you want around me.”

To her surprise, Luz actually blushes at this, her tan face going ever so slightly darker. It’s so unlike Amity’s own pale skin, which could and would turn bright red at the slightest provocation, that she can't help but stare. “Thanks, Amity. I'm really glad that you're my friend,” Luz confesses.

Humbled and more than a little embarrassed, Amity opens her mouth to deflect, but her words get tangled up in her mouth when Luz suddenly reaches into the space between them and takes her hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. All coherent thought immediately leaves Amity's mind, and she's certain that she's red to the tips of her ears from the way her face burns. “N-No problem,” she manages to stutter out breathlessly, and she thanks whatever gods are watching that she’s able to string together a reply at all.

Amity has held Luz’s hand before, but it’s never been like this. She sees now how big of a difference there is between grabbing someone’s hand to help them stand up, or to steady them, or to keep from being separated in a crowd, and holding hands just because you want to. Luz’s palm is warm and firm against her smaller, daintier one, and she’s fitted their fingers together in a way that is decidedly, unnecessarily intimate. There is no practical reason for Luz to make this kind of gesture, she just does it because she wants to, and because it feels right to her. Amity can’t help but admire how brave she must be to make such a gesture so casually, when Amity herself can barely share the same space with Luz without combusting into a stuttering, rambling, disorganized mess. “Did you, uh, want to keep reading?” she asks, her voice soft in the hidden room, but the close proximity means her voice doesn’t have to carry far.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay like this for a little while,” Luz replies. It’s not often that Amity hears the rambunctious human speak so quietly. Luz shifts to get more comfortable, slipping her cell phone into her pocket and out of sight. Her shoulder presses against Amity’s and stays there as the two of them stare up at the glow-in-the-dark stars Amity had once climbed the shelves to stick on the ceiling.

“Okay,” Amity says, turning to give Luz a small smile. She wonders if Luz notices how red in the face she is. She wonders if Luz recognizes what it means, if she’s known all along, or if she writes it off as some magical quirk or another, oblivious to the way her actions make Amity feel.

Right here, in the moment, Amity can’t bring herself to care whether or not she notices. She holds Luz’s hand, looks up at the ceiling, and feels that everything is going to be okay.

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #lumity #serendipitousfics #love these gals

[deadlygronkle]

Ancestor’s Legacy Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Mask

Words : 1673

Two days earlier

The Links, after one day of searching with little to no rest have found the Boss room. Legend takes the Boss key and unlocks the door watching the chains fall to the ground.

“Alright we will rest here for the night” Time ordered, causing all of the links to sigh in relief and collapse on the ground.

“So who is on first watch, seeing as we are in a dungeon” Warriors asked in a matter of fact tone. 

“All I know is it won’t be me.” Legend stated, without his usual snark, watching as Wild pulled out some firewood from his slate in preparation to build a fire.

Legend takes a look at the other Links seeing how they are faring. Sky layed propped up against the wall already falling asleep while Hyrule pulled out a blanket from Sky’s pack and laid it on him. Wild finished making the fire and was looking through his slate mumbling to himself on what to make for dinner. Warriors were now entertaining Wind, with tales from his world, as they waited for the food to be done. Time had taken off his helmet and was currently leaning on the wall opposite of the wall sky with his eyes closed. Twilight was sitting about 3 feet from the fire staring at the flames unblinkingly, face deep in thought.

Legend, wanting to know what they are going to be eating for dinner, approaches Wild and says “Hey, What are you making?”

Wild doing a small jump obviously not paying attention before then stated “I was thinking of something easy like just roasting some deer meat with some hearty radishes and mushrooms!” as he pulled out all the necessary ingredients and cooking utensils from the slate.

Legend nodded and walked away towards the thinking Twilight loudly plopping one the ground making Twilight jump. “Hey Legend, you need something?” Twilight asks clearly not knowing what to do.

“I want to know why you are so spacey recently” Legend said bluntly, annoyed at how quiet and reclusive Twilight has been ever since Time got that helmet, “Wild is getting annoying, seeing as how you are out of it he keeps on bugging the rest of us instead!” 

The Links that are awake started to listen in on Legend’s and Twilight’s conversation. Wind moved from standing right infront of Warriors to standing to left of him,  and Warriors started talking quieter and giving off ‘discrete’ glances in their direction. Wild moved to the other side of the fire ears twitching every so often. Four, being the least discrete of the other Links, was staring right above Legend’s head as if daydreaming. Hyrule started organizing his bag and taking account of the potions and bandages he had in stock, and Time just tilted his head down looking at his helmet, or what Legends assume he is seeing as how his scarred eye was facing them.

Twilight rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, aware that all ears were on them now, said “I’ve just been thinking of my journey a lot, I will be more on top of it tomorrow”. Twilight turned back to the flames thinking that it was over, instead Four said “Why don’t you tell us about it? Your journey I mean.” now instead of focusing above Legends head Four was staring at Twilight eyes looking red against the flame.

Before Twilight can politely decline Wind interjected with a “Please we barely know anything about your adventure” pulling out the puppy dog eyes.

Wild hummed in agreement before saying “food will be done in like 10 so there's plenty of time” as he watched the food cook.

Twilight became increasingly awkward under Wind’s puppy dog gaze “Well…. I guess as long as everyone else wants to hear it” looking pleadingly at Time.

Time being unhelpful said “Actually Pup, I am quite curious and I’m sure that no one here would mind a story” with a subtle smirk that Twilight could clearly make out.

“Yeah farm boy I want to know how you use that strength in your adventure” Warriors added.

Twilight sighed then pondered for a second before saying “well one time I wrestled my way up death mountain going against nearly every single Goron”. Cries of surprise and disbelief were heard throughout the camp.

“No way!”

“Really?!”

“There’s no way”

“You got to tell us the story now!”

“Can’t leave it at that pup”

Legend scoffed and said “Even that story is true I am not convinced that you don’t take potions.”. Twilight smirked and replied “It’s true and the tale is even more unbelievable”

Wild staring at Twilight with unbelief in his eyes said “Now you got to tell us the story!” Twilight glanced at the food and said “might want to bring you attention back to your food cub” as the radishes were burning on one side causing him to start fussing over it.

“Well I suppose I should tell the story, back at the beginning of my adventure I had to find a piece of a very powerful magical item there. All the gorons wouldn’t allow any Hylians up the mountain and pushed them off before they could even make it 10 feet up! After getting successfully beaten I went back to Ordon on the mayor’s orders, and got taught properly to beat the Gorons at their own game with a few tricks to make sure I don’t get pushed out instantly. Long story short I got to the top sumo wrestled  one of the elders, beat him, and then went down and successfully got the part of the artifact and saved their chief” Twilight said with a smile remembering one of his better memories of his Journey.

Before anyone could ask any questions Wild cuts in plates full of food and said “Save your questions for later the foods done!” before handing out the plates full of food, and waking Sky from his slumber, also giving him some food.

Twilight finished his food quickly and said “I’ll take first watch” earning him a frown from Time but Time said nothing.

“I guess I’ll take the 2nd watch” Four stated.

“And I’ll take 3rd” Time supplied.

---------TimeSkip----------

In the morning as they all were getting ready to fight the boss the world shifted out of focus for the Links. “We’re switching” cried Warriors, while Legend gave him a look of ‘No shit’ before they blacked out.

When Wild awoke they were in a desert like town with cucco’s running around and a pond like lake was to the right of him.

When everyone recovered, Time asked “Ok, anyone know where we are?” rubbing his head, Twilight smiled “This is my Kakariko town, home of the death mountain!”

Before anyone could ask Twilight ran forward like an excited puppy and said “Come on, I’ll show y’all around!”

As they walked around town, still a bit too early for the villagers to be up and about, Twilight pointed to different areas around town “That's Malo’s shop, I got my Hylian shield from there, That big building over there is the inn, oh! And over here is the Barnes’ bomb shop. It has been a bit pricey ever since his separate building caught on fire and exploded”. He said that last bit with a pained smile Wild noted curious what part his mentor had to play in that. 

“Wait, hold on there Twi, what about that lake back there?” Warriors asked, a bit amused by his comrade’s excitement. 

“Oh that is the Spring, it's kinda like a fairy fountain in your world, and speaking of bodies of water there are hot springs everywhere, but the easiest one to get to is up there” Twi pointed up on a ledge “You have to jump a bit but it's well worth it!”

“Well what are we waiting for let’s go!” Sky proclaimed, already tired.

So the Links went up there reading to get a nice relaxing soak in. After They all sit down in the hot springs Time said “Y’know your story last night reminded me of a few thing I have in my possession”

Twilight tilted his head to the left curiously “how so?”

 “Well…” Time pulled out his goron mask “It reminds me of this mask that allows me to transform into a goron as long as it is on my face”

“What other masks do you have in your arsenal old man?” Warriors asked from across the spring.

“Well I have one that turns me into a Zora, Korok, and Stalfos just to name a few” Time said.

Twilight zoned out ‘A stalfos does that mean he was alive when he trained me? No, His armour was different with vines growing on him AND he was missing his middle half!” Twilight thought.

“…..Twi you there?” Wild asked, shaking Twilight’s shoulder gently. Twilight jumped and said “Yeah I am fine, I was just uh.. Thinking about id there was a raid since I was last here!”

“Raid?” Wild asked, confused. 

“Yeah raid it when Bokoblins on boar mounts trash this village there are two bokoblin per giant boar one is steering while the other shoots flaming arrows at you. And no Wild you can’t ride them, they buck you off at the worst possible times” Twilight stated sending Wild a glare at the unasked question that died in his throat.

Before anyone can ask more questions Twilight got up and said “Would you look at that! The shaman is up, I'll be right back with him!” Twilight then grabbed a cucco and jumped off the ledge and left to go say ‘hi’.

“He is acting weird right?” Hyrule asked worry clear in his tone

“Yeah has been since we found that helmet” Four replied

“What should we do?” asked hyrule

"We don't do anything, he'll be back to normal soon, probably." Said Time also worried.

"Ok..." Hyrule said uncertainly.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu twilight #lu hyrule #lu sky #lu legend #lu time #lu wild #lu wind #lu warriors #ancestor's legacy

[another-snape-story]

Firewhiskey

Chapter XVII

“Alcohol is not a solution,” Snape reminded you as you both entered his office.

“I know,” you sighed, placing a large bottle on his desk. “I’m just so tired, Severus…” You took your regular place in the armchair, where a wool plaid blanket was folded a little sloppily – the way you left it here the last time. So he didn’t even bother putting it away anymore? Although Snape just lit the fireplace and its heat didn’t yet reach you, you felt so warm like never before.

“Yes. You are,” he agreed, focused on uncorking the bottle. “Why would you have firewhiskey in your possession?”

“I don’t know,” you smiled apologetically. “Bought it the day you refused to go to Hogsmeade with us.”

“Is it a vivid example why I should’ve agreed?” he smirked now pouring the spirit into two glasses and you laughed.

There hardly was a place in the whole world which offered you this kind of comfort and consolation, but this cold room with the dark figure of a man smoothly pacing around. Wrapped yourself into the blanket, you relaxed in the softness of the cushions.

“Quidditch Through the Ages,” you leisurely read the title as you noticed the book on a side table. “So now everything comes together!”

“What exactly?” Snape handed you the glass and sat across from you.

“You were to be heard in the Entrance Hall,” you giggled. “Why did you take it from Potter?”

“Well, I wasn’t in a mood,” he said apathetically, wobbling his glass and watching the liquid rotating inside. You couldn’t discern if he was joking or not – it was so likely of him to consider it a fair reason to do so – anyway, his answer amused you, same as his serious look.

“Have you ever been?” you teased, and he answered with a displeased curve of his lips.

“So?” Snape leaned a little forward.

“I’m drinking for you,” you declared, not a trace of your former gaiety remained. “I’m so happy I met you, Severus. You can’t even imagine…”

“Slow down,” he smiled softly. “Too early for confessions.”

“You know I mean it!” you insisted. “I’m telling it before I take the first sip, and I will tell it after taking the last!”

“I know,” his voice so quiet yet so deep. “And you do know I feel the same, don’t you?” The words being extremely alien to Snape’s enclosed character, the words he never dared to say aloud, struggled their way out. He’d prefer to keep them to himself, but he couldn’t leave your sudden ingenuous impulse without an answer.

Your heart skipped a beat each time he acknowledged his reciprocity towards you, although he never said it directly. You nodded, blissful to be ascertained of his fellow feeling again, and reached out for the man.

Mild sonorous clinking broke the silence once your glasses struck against each other.

“How did you get here?” you asked randomly, intending to divert depressive thoughts by some neutral topic, but Snape – unlike what you’ve expected – now looked gloomier than before.

“Dumbledore offered me a job,” he answered with a sigh after emptying his glass.

“Is that what you wanted to be at the age of…”

“Twenty-one,” he finished, filling his glass anew. You tossed yours closer to him to be refreshed with a drink. “All I wanted at the age of twenty-one was being dead.”

“Not much has changed since then, huh?” you smiled sympathetically, and he snickered. Yet again you managed to liven him up.

Another shot followed. Having no crumb in your stomach since lunch, you felt alcohol quickly take over your body, spreading fatigue through your limbs, while your mind still strained to preserve the clarity of thought.

“Did you know each other before?”

“I was studying here. So, apparently, we did.”

“You should’ve really loved it here to return inside the walls of your alma mater?” Recalling your time at school you dreaded the thought of stepping on its threshold ever again.

Snape lowered his head, peering at the brownish fluid in his hand. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah. I’ve guessed there’s a mystery behind all this.” You felt so terribly sorry for him all at once. There clearly was something he couldn’t tell you, but he did his best to be as honest with you as the circumstances allowed, or his obligations, or whatever else it might be. What the hell it might be?! The thing gave him no peace, torturing his heart, it was evident – judging by his rare bitter remarks; and you felt so helpless not knowing how to ease his mental torments. “Don’t worry, mysterious Professor Snape,” you reassured him in barely a whisper. “I won’t ask questions.”

“I wish I could tell you...” he hopelessly shook his head, afraid you might turn away from him sooner or later – no one would tolerate reticence for long.

“We don’t have that much firewhiskey, do we?” you smiled kindly slowly draining your glass.

“You should be prepared better for the next time,” thankful for your patience and understanding, he gave a short, half-suppressed snigger, and you laughed loving the idea.

“Oh, I will! You know me!”

“I don’t even doubt that!”

“Wanna know what I wanted to be after school?” guilt-driven for involuntary making him feel uncomfortable, you changed the subject, hoping to put some spirit into the man, yet your glance gained a spacey glint. “Hats designer!”

“Hats designer?” Snape chuckled, a slight haze enveloping his head.

“Yep. But somehow ended up being a scientist.”

“What a loss for the fashion world,” he said deliberately unimpressed, but a sly narrow of his eyes betrayed he was ribbing you.  

“Heey, don’t you dare question my artistic talents!”

“Or what?” he provoked you further.

“Or I’ll tell Minerva you assumed no one would notice if she replaced the hat she usually wears with an old Hagrid’s shoe!”

“You can’t blackmail me with a commonly known fact,” he replied in a bored tone, which made you burst into laughter.

“Aw, Snape, you’re such a bastard!”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” with a smug grin, he raised his glass and polished it off.

Snape rested beside you. All of his troubles seemed to step aside when you came around. He wasn’t expecting any kind of cunning, deceitful tricks from your side and could fully relax in the solace your presence comprised. Alcohol helped him loosen up even more, but he still had things under control. You, on the other hand, let frivolity take the lead.

“I was young and naive,” you tilted your head on the backrest, reflecting on a girl you used to be. “Ah, where are those days?”

“You’re still very young,” Snape smiled softly, admiring your features, which he found so alluringly attractive. But it wasn’t appearance that captivated him – something much deeper than physical perception forcefully drew him to you.

“It’s not the point,” you sighed. “Our bodies are aging, but we never actually grow old.” You gulped the rest of firewhiskey left in your glass and looked closely on its empty bottom. “Somewhere deep inside there sticks a child inside each of us. A child with a flaming hope, still believing all of the most fantastic dreams will jolly well come true... Add me some?” you stretched out your hand to receive a new portion of drink.

Snape unhurriedly provided you with another shot.

“Do you regret becoming what you are?” he let the question slip off his tongue.

“And you?” you gave him a pitiful glance, already knowing what he would say.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“But it’s not too late for changes, is it?” you asked uncertainly, mainly, not to cheer him up – which, nevertheless, was also your intention – but hoping he would agree, so that you too could regain confidence there still was a chance, but Snape silently finished his glass instead.

“The Dark Lord might return any time soon. This is currently my main concern.”

“You’re right. Forgive me, I’m just saying whatever comes to my mind,” you smiled weakly. “My tongue works faster than my brain.” The setting of the room started slowly swaying around, causing a sick feeling in your stomach. You seemed to run out of the last bits of energy – another few minutes, and you’d find yourself balancing on the edge of oblivion.

“Do not apologize,” Snape leaned forward, took the glass out of your hand and put it aside. “What is it you were dreaming of? Will you be willing to tell me?” he asked quietly, his voice so pleasant to your ears.

“I’m dreaming of a small house on the mountain side,” you closed your eyes, “surrounded by a forest…”

“And a lake somewhere nearby,” Snape continued pensively, “its waters clear as crystal…”

“Yes. There will be flowers everywhere…”

“Grown all by yourself?” he smiled, taking in your every breath.

“I have seeds of some rare species,” you agreed serenely.

Each word you said found response in Snape’s heart. For a moment he seemed to be carried away – far from his cruel reality – right in the middle of your little paradise.

“We’ll set off for lengthy strolls along nature paths early in the morning with a basket of sandwiches,” you mumbled sleepily, “to gather herbs and berries…”

“…and return home right before the sun falls…” he whispered, “…tired, but so happy…” Snape’s words faded into silence, as he watched you drift off in a peaceful slumber, leaving him with a feeling of a vague regretful longing.

<<< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >>>

Tag: @diaryofafan17 @yul-is-sparkling @fullmoonshadowwrites @forthehonourof @amywright @redrehab @space-helen @fluffymadamina nadiigh @theworldisugly-22 @lukaerith-morningstar @sighsinkhuzdul @67-chevy-baby @rustypotatospork @aquila-leo @dandyrua @majusketch @sevyythebeanqueen @writingmi @s00nhi @pinkininja @shizuethedragon @chocolattefrog awkwardaxelotl @bionic-otp @samnblack @sailorstupidsblog @purpledragonturtles @xwaterproofx @lokistann @psycho-howell @planetmystery @lovelyravenkite @taschaschwarz @grimrapper11 @xpissbabyx @lullabylike

#snape #severus snape #snape x reader #severus snape x reader #snape fanfiction #severus snape fanfiction